Pherenike - Chapter 5

As she grasped the sword herself and pushed it forcefully, this time there was a long cut on her palm. However, Pherenike felt no sensation whatsoever. She couldn’t feel the sensation of flesh expanding and blood draining.

She stumbled after only a few steps. Still, she got up again. After walking a few more steps, she collapsed. Finally, Pherenike crawled on all fours towards Deucalion.

Her trembling hand picked up Deucalion’s severed wrist. The ring she had put on his finger with her own hand was hanging on his fingertips.

When they were engaged, according to the Evdokian tradition, they wore the engagement ring on the left ring finger, and after marriage, they moved it to the right ring finger. Both Deucalion and Pherenike had gold rings on their right hands.

There, Deucalion engraved their names as proof that they belonged to each other even in death.

With faltering steps, she reached Deucalion’s corpse. She placed his severed wrist on his amputated arm.

Pherenike could normally attach severed limbs. Her ‘Althea’ was different from the Althea of any other priestesses. The Althea bestowed upon her by the goddess went beyond healing; it was regeneration. Yet, Deucalion’s wrist didn’t attach.

Strange. Why? Why doesn’t it attach? Why is his hand so detached like this? She could fix it. She could surely make his hand move again…

Pherenike poured light as if she had gone mad. Unaware that the Althea was recoiling and bouncing off Deucalion’s severed wrist.

“Kybellaune, he’s already dead.”

A subordinate who remained in Actor’s place spoke quietly.

Ah.

Because Deucalion is dead.

Something lifeless cannot be regenerated. She couldn’t heal any pain. The pain had already vanished with the soul.

It’s because her Deucalion is dead.

The light that continued to emanate from her fingertips couldn’t reach and disappeared with Deucalion.

“Why would you save Deucalion Paetusa?”

Another man asked mockingly.

“Cutting the traitor’s wrist is originally done while they are alive, able to feel all the pain. Do you dare to resent the grace bestowed by Lord Nikandros, thinking even this kind of person is a brother?”

“…”

“Even if you manage to pull out Lord Paetusa from the waters of the Styx with that eerie power of yours, once he revives, we will cut off his neck. If you stick his head back on, we will take out the heart.”

“…”

“Returning as a dirty body that betrayed Lord Nikandros, shameless.”

“Be careful with your words. Besides, the engagement was broken off by His Highness’ will from the beginning.”

“Why keep a woman stained by Lord Paetusa’s body by His Highness’ side? She’s just a fallen general’s daughter without the temple. Why are you all so afraid?”

“Yorgos.”

“Those claims about the woman emitting light are all lies. A woman who supposedly radiates light even when she’s still is nothing but a fanciful story. I won’t believe anything my eyes don’t see.”

“Enough.”

“Althea, that damn Althea. Those young priests in the temple often display such tricks, briefly conjuring light with their hands. They perform these spectacles in front of the sanctuary and collect money. How different can it be?”

“Didn’t you hear His Highness’ request to treat Kybellaune with respect?”

“Well, he did say to keep the woman alive. Like we can harm that monster.”

Pherenike simply stared at Deucalion as if she had lost her mind amidst mockery and opposition.

She knows the only way. It was what she had been thinking all along since she came to Lykke.

Yes. She has to return to the starting point.

If she could only have some time, even a moment, together with Deucalion’s corpse…

She slowly lifted her head. Actor was coming back towards them.

As if sensing her gaze, Actor’s eyes also fell on the collapsed Pherenike on the ground. The eyes of the two met in mid-air.

Actor Nikandros Pelagon.

She gazed at him and slowly pronounced his name.

While the feeble heartbeat of Deucalion was like a fading flame, his own, pounding heart echoed painfully in Pherenike’s head.

Actor’s life was cursed. It was hateful that she couldn’t tear out and trample on that heart.

[“Only the son of Pelagon can kill the son of Pelagon.”]

The prophecy was not false. All the murders of Pelagon’s many brothers and father were all connected by the hands of that bloodline.

The reason young Deucalion survived in the hands of the king was also because the king never directly raised a sword against his son, even if it was essentially a mere formality. The king had the intention to keep his second son alive until his beloved firstborn personally executed the half-brother.

He wished for the young son to fall ill, to grow terrified of his weak body. All this was to ensure that Actor could easily crush his brother. So that, in the distant future, he could become a line in the epic tales of a great hero.

How disappointing it must have been for the king that Deucalion grew up to be robust and strong.