Kratos' Heir- Part 2

This is just a short little piece that I will continue. The idea sprung from my head from playing video games, and then I started to explore and broaden my canvas. Did the main character's daughter really die? I splattered colour all over my mind, scribbled, erased and perfected. Now, it's time to step back and admire the work. Enjoy!

It's still incomplete; but I would like to share it as a draft. Also, all the text has been taken from MY BLOG- Enjoy!

PS. I think the popcorn's burning. Go check on it.It's fine? Well, then, um, add more salt.


What shall I say? How shall I begin this secretive story? I.. hail from the Netherlands. Not truthfully. I have habituated the area, but the blood running through my arteries is Greek.
I have named myself rightly Calliope. My mother is of the name Lysandra. She made the worst mistake of naming my father husband. For he is the fury of the gods, Kratos.

Everyone believes me to be dead. So does my own blood. But why? Persephone, the great agricultural goddess, plunged me into darkness and pulled me to her abode. On the Fields of Elsyium I sighted my father again. But, in vain. I tried to warn him that I was still flesh and blood. As I said, in vain.

I wasn't to speak, for I had sworn not to. We would both turn to ashes and they would haunt the Underworld eternally. We rejoiced, and embraced tightly. I hoped that would be an indicator of my status. I wasn't deceased! Well, not yet! I pondered over the thought that if he would ever come to his senses again.

My mother? Oh, she was declared dead. Her body was spat upon, kicked about, burnt and what else under Kronos they did to my mother. I pretended to be dead, blood staining my teeth. My ears only heard sounds of horror and agony, dogs wailing and fire torching down the trees of land. My Sparta.

These warriors. Imbeciles, all of them! Wounded on his chest, my father clashed sword to skin. Blood? It was everywhere. Gushing out, wetting all dry ground. The swords flashed an evil chuckle. They hungered for more. They were cursed, as I later learnt. Stinging, biting, slicing, they stopped at nothing. That night was the worst of my life.

Kratos. He charged towards us. A fire that cannot just be described as insane glinted and gleamed in him, making him shudder and scream the ancient Spartan battle cry. I saw him slaughter. Kill. Murder. Hundreds, in an hour. The injured laid moaning, screaming. Then it happened.

Father sliced a body and glanced at us. His main objective was to demolish any living life he saw. Sword drawn, black, transparent droplets on his white, rough back glittered. I shielded myself with my hands when the sound of flesh being ripped apart reached my ears. My mother had leapt defensively in front of me. I saw the blade being impaled in her now limp body and touch mine. Immediately my glowing white robes grew spots of red. It spread, and I looked into my father's eyes in dismay. I despaired silently. "What have you done?!," I screamed. I saw the fire being put out. The smallest flame in his eyes being stepped out.

But it was too late. He drew the sword and my mother fell to the ground. Fluids shot out of her nose. The pain I felt was inexpressible. I dropped my weight and let my hands flail. I closed my eyes in regret and exhaled my last breath.

I awoke to find myself lying on a lavish bed with silky covers and feathery pillows. An inviting breakfast awaited me on the side of my bed, alluring me with its savoury fragrance. I gazed around the room. This was a chamber fit for a king, if not owned by one already. I could sink into this luxuries and give rest to my throbbing arms and feet but I dared not. My mouth dangled wide open, but I fear not from awe.

For it was woven from ghosts.

Either this was an elaborate pun, the fabric etched with very convincing and accurate designs, the walls black and dreary, the atmosphere and the meal so.. so.. gloomy, faded and dead.
Or I had tresspassed into the land of the Underworld.

I sat up, wanting to thank the person who had saved me from my fatal misery last night. But, who else? Those faded eyes. Colours drifting through them. She smelt of marigolds and corn fields. She smelt of lavenders and roses and buttercups and daisies and lilies and carnations. Her clothes changed from amber to scarlet to mauve. Such.. gleeful colours in the arms of doom. Flowers adorned her brown hair, healthy, bouncy, shiny and thick. A thick curl hid a butterfly on her neck that promptly flew away. Her lips, roses, as red as apples. As red as blood. As red as a ripe tomato. As red as the pomegrante that she so gently caressed in her angelic hands. She was in, each and every form, a goddess. Birds twittered around her and there was a happy gleam on her face, but her eyes told a different tale. She was Persephone, bride to Hades, queen of nature, queen of the dead.

"Hello, child. You were unconscious when I saw you." Her voice glittered, not like the sharp edge of a snaky voice, but full of natural happiness. Like she was forced to be happy.
"'Saw me'? How?"
I was quite ashamed at my cheek and my uncouth behaviour I was displaying. In front of a goddess!
Tinkling of bells filled the chamber. It laughed heartily yet gently. Ladylike.

"Oh, Calliope, the minds of children are so innocent. That is what is better in all youngsters than in all mortal and immortal adults in this universe. To answer your inquiry, your father's rebelling acts have caused quite a stir. News had reached that he was on a blood-frenzy rampage. And he was impossible to halt. Naturally, Hades had a lookout for the departed souls that would soon enter his.. 'territory', as he prefers to label it," said she distastefully. " I was present there in the form of an olive tree sprouting on the boundary of the wall. Thank the gods he did not kill me! With my natural magic, I summoned the naiads and the sprites and the nymphs who played their flutes and charmed masses of those mortals. Your father, in the end, languished with exhaustion."

" Is he safe and sound? Can I see him again? Please, Maiden of the Fields, be of assistance to me! I love my father too dearly to spend a life without him. For he is all I have left."\

" But you must understand, girl. Your corpse is still on Earth, decomposing. Your father assumes you to be dead. We have to keep it that way. We do not want to invoke my groom's fury by altering his List of Afterlife, do we? I shall surreptitiously arrange a meeting, but not for a long period of time. A minute or two, probably."

" But that is not enough! I do not wish to stay in the Underworld for the rest of my life? Isn't it possible for you debate with your consort about my straight release to Earth again? I did not request you to save my life."

" It cannot be arranged, girl! And be grateful to me for rescuing your unworthy corpse off the ground! If not for me, you would not be speaking the words you just uttered. Lastly, I am a goddess. I am allowing you to speak in a tone like that with me because I am amused by you. Even the spirits of Elsyium bow their heads and dare not look into my eyes, unlike you rowdy weakling."

Her voice was metallic and furious now. I had crossed lines and I dare not request for more. She was risking her royalty for me, a mere mortal. I had performed no good deeds. She was right, I should have been eternally grateful to her.

" I am extremely regretful for my uncouth behaviour, my lady," I whispered.

" Just the thought of consulting him again is so... The last one to make this request was Orpheus, the fine lad that charmed me with his music. My lord was absolutely furious when he heard my plea. I do not know if he will permit that again." She was genuinely perplexed. Her camouflaging robes billowed lightly in the wind. She clasped my stony hands. " I am free in half a year's time. The end of my 7 month long curse finally ends, annually." Now she gripped my shoulders softly. " I am allowed to make a single wish and it be granted. I could wish for anything but my curse to be lifted." She displayed her brilliant smile. " I shall wish for your release! Oh, what a magnificent scheme!" She twirled me around in joy and beamed.

I was agitated by her rapid, insensible decision. Persephone had only one wish, per 7 months! She could easily wish for anything she desired. What great feat had I performed? What colossal epic had I penned? Why me?

I realised I had spoken aloud. I glanced at the great goddess hovering in front of me. She blinked, inhaled shortly and replied, " Dear mortal, I am accrediting your escape only due to your father. He is a man of his word and carries the most adamant heart I have seen. His battle skills impress me highly, even though he is the scion of Zeus, Hades' most hated foe. I believe that you have the same rebellious attitude, the same stubbornness, the same destiny: to become august throughout Greece.

I have observed his remarkable personality. He grieves immensely over your and your mother's demise. His future has been woven by the Sisters. He shall continue to crusade. In absolute melancholy he shall take his life by his own sword, but he shall rise. He shall annihilate anyone, mortal or immortal, that steps in his path. You MUST take precautions. For he shall grow rabid, foaming at the mouth, lurking in shadows, asphyxiating warriors, Minotaur, pegasi, Gorgons, gods, demons and other unspeakable creatures of Tartarus.

It is deemed fatal if.." She inspected the chamber covertly. " It will be deemed fatal if he will be revoked in any manner. I know this for a fact because Hades has a connection with the Sisters of Fate, as they apprise him of the deaths that occurred per month. They put their heads together and decide whether he shall be sorted into the Fields of Elsyium or Tartarus. Therefore, girl," she warned, " stay alert. I shall try my best to exculpate you back to earth as a living being. I shall try my best to reason with my Lord."

"I am gratified and I shall forever acknowledge your grace, my Queen," I exclaimed. " Now I shall concoct a way to get You out of this mayhem."
" Oh, I forgot to notify you! What a big mistake! My Lord doesn't have the knowledge of you residing in these chambers. You must be on guard constantly. Here, accept this ring," she gestured, gifting me a sapphire ring with a gold band. " Whenever you need me, just say these words to the ring:
Ω, μεγάλη κόρη της Δήμητρας
έρθει στην ενίσχυσή μου
φέρετε μαζί σας τη μαγεία που μεγαλώνει
καθαρίζει και θρέφει
να δώσει την ευλογία σας κατά την ανάξια εαυτό μου
έτσι ώστε να μπορεί να διορθωθεί και πρέπει να
εξορίστηκε από την γη και ουρανό για πάντα.

That shall be a signal delivered to me. Live forever more, O brave mortal," she acclaimed. She smiled knowingly once again and departed.
I perched on the bed, slightly petrified because some ghosts grumbled as my bottom squashed their transparent bodies. I thought and thought about the long discussion I had with Persephone. She was so loving, kind and gentle. It was no big a wonder that Lord Hades captured Persephone, his niece.

I noticed a long string instrument against the charcoal wall. I took the harp lying by the side of my bed into my calloused hands. It was a simple harp, but made of ebony and encased in a glass-like covering. The strings were tight and a pleasure to strum. It had such a glossy surface I could stroke it all day. It had smooth knobs of white, most probably the tusk of a great mammoth. Then, on the side, I noticed a tiny carving with something in Greek.

Suddenly an impending mount of doom fell upon me. This was the famed Orpheus' harp! Had he, like me, fallen into the stunning trap Persephone had laid out for me? I felt so deceived that I could not even manage a gasp. But more importantly, I had to conclude a way to escape deftly and furtively. Who knows what I would confront, with the cunning mind of Lord Hades and persuasion of Lady Persephone? Cerberus, the triple-headed bloodhound? Charon, the cheating Ferryman of souls? The merciless triplex of the Furies? The trinity of the Sisters Of Fates themselves?

I plucked the twines of the harp one last time. The bed shook with such velocity that if my weight did not burden them, they would have trembled out of the door! I sprang up and inspected the bed. There was nothing underneath in the tiny space, apart from dust, cobwebs, and the passer-by arachnid. Then I noticed it.

The ghosts on my mattress were frozen. They stared upward blankly at me, as if waiting for commands.
Didn't Orpheus' multiple myths mention his enchanted harp that wooed even the most vain creatures? Of course they did!
As if waiting for MY commands.

I ran my fingers over the harp's strings again. They made a purring sound, like the sound of ambrosia trickling from the heavens. But however, they made a solemn, condescending acclamation. I glanced at the ghosts. They snapped out of the trance and looked around spasmodically. I grinned. I had understood the trick for this harp. Orpheus used a spell every time he played a tune on his harp. Or he bewitched it. He cheated his brothers and neighbours. He cheated his soul mate, Eurydice.

I promptly uncurled my fingers to let the harp descend to the ground. I sighed. I had no other alternative. I grasped the cool skin of the harp, picked it up and was about to touch it when a storm of red and black threw open the door. Lord Hades infuriated face followed by the wide-eyed Lady's face.

"Hello, child," snarled Hades. " I hope you had a good night's sleep."


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