Pherenike - Chapter 1

Chapter 1. The Sword in the Water

It seemed like a long moment, or perhaps a very short eternity.

Arrows that had covered the entire sky, whether for a brief instant or an almost imperceptible eternity, finally poured down to the ground like rain. Amidst the pale mist, the cries of soldiers echoed like the beasts in a slaughterhouse.

It was the time when the sun of the god Apollo rose again as it did yesterday through the mist the goddess of dawn, Eos, had left behind in the Palliuron Mountains to the west.

The morning sun, heralding the dawn, cast a faint light on the Paetusa army, which had been caught off guard.

Everything became tragic in an instant. The sound of flesh bursting, horrific screams, the rushing footsteps in all directions, the clashing of weapons, fallen barracks, and the smell of blood carried by the damp breeze.

The sound of people searching for gods.

In the midst of it all, there was a woman standing still, as if a single arrow would never touch her. She stood quietly, gazing at the sky while removing a red veil from her head. She wore a black chiton1 and had platinum blonde hair as pale as the sunlight beyond the mist.

She briefly looked down at a soldier who had just been killed a few steps in front of her, then slowly bowed her body. The graceful hand of the woman effortlessly pulled out the arrow that had pierced the dead soldier’s forehead. She casually touched the feathered end of the arrow.

“Kybellaune! Kybellaune!”

“Kybellaune, you must go to the sanctuary right away! Hurry! Lord Paetusa is…”

The blue feather of the arrow. The mark of the Nikandros Army.

Belonging to the Prince Regent, the First Prince Actor Nikandros Pelagon.

Those who should not be here. They had pierced through the Paetusa army, which had blocked the royal capital, and crossed the rugged Palliuron Mountains.

Just beyond this forest.

It meant the defeat of the Second Prince Deucalion, who had surrounded his half-brother and father. The forces he stubbornly left to the west of the mountains couldn’t reverse the initially crumbling situation. It was merely a last-ditch effort to safely send his wife away in the irrevocable final moments.

And when it became impossible to leave the kingdom, seek the sanctuary of your goddess.

In the very end.

The woman slowly withdrew the light that flickered at her fingertips. Healing Deucalion’s soldiers now meant nothing. It would only inflict the same pain twice.

The archers of the 1st Prince had already annihilated them beyond the forest, even in the mist.

A single arrow requires the archer’s aim, but to launch thousands of arrows, no one’s eyes are actually needed, as long as there is a reliable direction to draw the bowstring.

And as the sun rises a bit higher, the mist in the forest will gradually disappear.

Their eyes will brighten, and their hiding places will vanish.

“Run. Don’t mind me.”

“Kybellaune, The Consort instructed that you wait for him at the sanctuary of Calyce in case of a contingency. You know this. The tide has momentarily turned. You must not be captured by them.”

“It’s too noisy. Go away.”

She started walking in the direction from which the arrows had come.

A man clad in a green chlamys2 hastily chased after the woman.

“Kybellaune, Kybellaune! By the gods, Lady Pherenike!”

“You can escape now, Dexikos.”

“So can you.”

“My pace is slower than yours. I’ll just die a bit slower. But you will die soon here.”

“I’ll count to five. Come here.”

Blasphemous.

“Get out of here before I finish counting to five. Before I borrow the words of the goddess Kybellar to curse your parents.”

In response to Pherenike’s defiant retort, Dexikos twisted his face in frustration.

“By the gods, you shouldn’t really curse. Even if my father doesn’t know, our mother must live long. Go to the sanctuary.”

“…”

“Lord Paetusa, your lover Deucalion is begging you through the mouth of this servant. Please.”

“Right. You’re spouting lies about how I’ll come to see him if he quietly waits at the sanctuary.”

“…”

“No lies.”

“As long as you’re unharmed. Otherwise, there’s no next time.”

“We already have no next time. Dexikos.”

Unfortunately, the shadow of Deucalion, who had silently watched her, finally clenched his spear and rushed forward.

She knew that dying might be a better choice than fleeing. Even if she had said she would go to the sanctuary, she probably stayed here to buy time. Dexikos had always been a loyal servant of Deucalion since childhood. And that’s why he would soon die.

Like her Deucalion.

“Deucalion.”

Pherenike quickly traversed the forest, repeating her husband’s name silently in her mouth over and over.

Deucalion. Deucalion. Deucalion…

There was no ‘response’ to his name.

She gritted her teeth and called his name again, this time aloud.

“Deucalion Paetusa Pelagon.”

Only then did the faint and sparse sound of his heartbeat respond to her, as if echoing. However, it was a sound devoid of any vitality.

The ambiguous sound peculiar to one standing on the boundary between life and death.

Having heard the ‘sound of a name’ countless times, Pherenike understood its meaning. Deucalion had drifted far from life.

Whether dead, alive and dying, or something in between.

• • • • • •

1 Chiton: Basic clothing of ancient Greece.

2 Chlamys: Short cloak of ancient Greece.