Mortal Will

I have glimpsed another threshold where the body's limits end, and will alone carries me forward.

The Titan's blade descended upon me, yet I felt no fear. Only the calm certainty that my shield would endure. The moment the edge met its surface, I sensed the force behind it cleaving through metal but not piercing through. The remainder of the impact slammed into my body, sending tremors through the earth, raising clouds of dust, and carving a crater beneath my feet.

My body shook but I stood my ground. Then, in a flash, I surged sideways, slipping from beneath the massive sword as it buried itself in the earth. The Titan lurched forward, losing its balance.

I reached its body, my spear glowing faintly with the power of my will. I thrust it upward, piercing clean through and emerging from the lower back, leaving a gaping wound that began to close almost instantly. I knew this foe could not be bested by brute strength alone it would take one, precise, decisive blow. But now, I was testing my skill, waiting for the right moment.

The Titan raised its sword again and struck with a horizontal sweep. I dodged, leaping high into the air as the blade sheared off the hilltop in a single clean line.

As the weapon passed beneath me, I closed in and unleashed a storm of spear strikes. Blow after blow landed in the same spot until, with a final burst, I tore off one of its legs, forcing it to drop to a knee. It reached for me with a massive hand, but I slipped away. Focusing all my strength, I delivered the final strike driving my spear upward and cleaving the Titan in two.

And still, it did not fall.

The creature struggled to rise, attempting to reconnect with its other half. But I was already there my spear plunged into the core that governed its body. With a shattering crack, it exploded into shards, and the giant finally stilled.

My shield slipped from my left hand. I looked at it what little remained of it.

"So long as I can still take blows like that" I muttered. With a surge of will, I forced my bones to knit together again. My body began to heal.

I retrieved the shield and inspected the damage. The gash it bore wouldn't compromise its strength. Let it remain it was the first battle scar. Let it stay as it is. Turning, I gazed past the horizon toward the sea. I had grown stronger than ever before. But I had lingered here too long, and my enemies still breathed. Aside from Charon, I still didn't know who was truly behind Damippus's death. And where else but Athens the heart of knowledge and wisdom could I uncover the truth?

"You defeated Talos, sir. That was incredible," came the voice of a boy Nikandros. He was around ten, and had never left my side since witnessing my first battle with the Titan. He wanted to be like me. But I didn't want him walking my path. I didn't want that burden. Yet he followed, day after day, his endless pleas chipping away at my resolve. In the end, I taught him a few sword techniques just enough to defend himself and his mother.

"Nikandros, what are you doing here? I told you to stay away."

"I did stay back, but when I saw the battle begin, I just couldn't stand by," he said quietly, stepping closer.

"You disobeyed a command. That means you're not a warrior yet," I told him.

My arm had started to heal. I picked up my shield and gripped it tightly. Ahead lay a small town founded by the first settlers to reach Crete.

"I'm sorry. I'll accept any punishment," Nikandros said, hurrying after me. "Will you take me with you on your journeys?"

"No," I answered flatly.

"Why not?"

Ah, child. He doesn't understand who he's following or the doom he invites.

"Listen closely. I have enemies who could end your life with a flick of their fingers. I won't be able to protect you from them," I said, brushing his hair with my hand.

"I'll protect myself!" he declared, clutching his short sword tightly.

I didn't argue. He was still a child naive and stubborn. I turned and continued on.

Several ships waited near the city, hidden from the Titan's gaze. That was where I was heading. Talos had destroyed everything along the coast. He hadn't spared even the fishing boats when he spotted them. The fishermen now dragged their vessels inland, hiding them in thickets and caves, only venturing to sea when it was safe. After catching their haul, they rushed back before it was too late.

Despite the isolation, life on the island went on. The people lived as if cut off from the chaos of the outside world. They had a guardian a protector who watched over the island's borders. But I had destroyed him.

Many longed to return home and rejoiced at the news. Yet others met it with resentment. They had lived here for generations. To them, this was already home, and they weren't eager to leave.

"He was our protector. Our god, who defended us from all threats," declared the head of the local town, Lykritos, angrily as he approached me.

"Think twice before you speak," I replied coldly. "I killed Talos. What do you think I could do to you?"

"You" He tried to argue, but fell silent under my gaze.

"He's just a fool," came a voice from the rooftop. "Fears the world like a frog trapped in a barrel," Diogenes chuckled, sitting on a wooden lid and chewing on dates.

"Shut up, you senile old man," Lykritos growled through his teeth.

"Enough," I said without turning to him.

"Exactly! Or you'll get it," muttered Diogenes, jumping down from the roof. Despite his age, he moved with unnatural ease, his body still strong.

"Well then, my wayward student who only knows how to swing a stick, time to leave this godforsaken place."

Reaching a hidden spot where boats were stored under a canopy, I pulled back the cover, revealing a small vessel with a single mast and rows of oars on each side. It could hold no more than ten people. Placing my shield and spear inside, I lifted the boat with ease and carried it.

"Forward!" shouted Diogenes, already aboard.

"When the old order dies, life blooms again like a flower bright and radiant."

Sometimes he spoke like a true sage; other times, he was a grumpy old man displeased with everything.

"Hey you," he grumbled, banging on the hull. "Carry it gently, not like you're hauling firewood."

I gave the boat a little toss, and he dropped to the bottom with a thud.

"Ouch! Fine, fine, I'll shut up," he muttered.

Reaching the shore, I set the boat down on the sandy beach and began checking it for "accidental" holes or missing supplies. The provisions we'd prepared earlier were still intact. Sitting on the bow, I waited for the blacksmith and perhaps someone else.

Diogenes, settling in beside me, suddenly asked:

"Tell me, student what do you value most in your life? And who are you, truly?"

"My fate. I was born a Spartan, but I no longer consider myself one," I replied.

"Is that so?" The old man's eyes narrowed with sharp insight.

"Perhaps that's just an illusion. As long as you're driven by self-deception, you'll never reach your goal."

"Speak plainly," I asked.

"No. Where's the wisdom in that if you don't come to it yourself?" he answered, giving me a sidelong glance.

I looked down at my hands. Rough, scarred they had known the taste of countless battles. I had lived as a Spartan all my life. Before that… I couldn't even remember who I'd been. And now who was I? A question too philosophical to answer.

"All I know is this: I am a warrior, and battle is my path," I said firmly.

"Hm. And here I thought your skull was full of dust," Diogenes snorted, pulling more dates from nowhere.

"Thought it all went into your muscles, but maybe there's still something left in that head of yours."

I was about to reply when I noticed people approaching us.

It was the blacksmith, and with him came Nikandros and his mother, Callista.

"So, you've decided to come along?" I asked the woman whose house I'd been living in recently. I ate her food, though it always made me feel uneasy. In return, I helped around the house and trained Nikandros. For the first time in a long time, I had lived as if I had a family but I tried not to get attached. It was just a fleeting moment before I would take to the road again.

"Yes. I've been here since I was eighteen, and I raised Nikandros here. But I want to go home. I want my son to see the land where I was born," she replied.

She was thirty-one, though you'd never guess her age she looked like a young maiden. She was beautiful, and her beauty struck me; I could only compare her to Diana.

"Then let's go," I said and pushed the boat into the sea.