You sighed deeply. It has been many, many years since your husband, the King of Castrum Kremnos, Mydeimos, had went to war - leaving you alone with a son, a rebellious nation and a throne to attend to. His whereabouts were unknown; the only thing that kept you going all these years was your faith in the man you married and fell in love with. At first, the people were fine with your temporary rule - until more and more time started passing. At first it was only a small group of advisors and assistants asking you to remarry or give up the throne, since Mydeimos ‘evidently wouldn’t return’.
Soon though, many more fractions, ranging from small groups to big organisations started demanding that you choose a new king to rule alongside you. You’d managed to buy him some more time as you claimed to choose a new king once you’d finished weaving your shroud. The people first seemed fine with it, since they never found out that you unthreaded the work you did daily once the sun dipped below the horizon and was replaced by the moon.
In the past few years, you’d dealt with a variety of riots and demonstrations, but this time they had crossed the line by beating up your son. When the poor thing came home, he was limping terribly and had a black eye, amongst many broken bones and other injuries. ‘This can’t go on’, you thought to yourself. “It seems the time for the challenge has come.”
Now, standing before you were all the suitors, 108 men in total. A silent prayer rushed through your mind before you stepped in front of them. Clearing your throat, you welcomed them before you explained what they had to do. “Whoever can raise my husband’s own spear and slice through twelve targets cleanly, evenly and with a single strike, will be the new king, sit down at the throne, and rule Castrum Kremnos with me as his queen.”
Cheers erupted, and the first man already approached the intricate weapon. It was a gorgeous golden spear, adorned by sapphires and rubies, reminiscent of its owner. However, aside from being bejewelled, it was also blessed by Strife — the very Strife that only your husband was worthy of being. The first challenger gripped the spear, his confident grin soon disappearing as he could not lift the weapon, no matter how hard he tried. Laughter roared through the stadium. Enraged, the suitor gave up, claiming that the challenge is rigged.
The next suitor was less cocky, and methodically approached the weapon. A firm grip, a proper posture - someone who clearly trained the usage of the spear. Yet, all he could do was struggle to move the golden artefact, unable to lift it, let alone strike targets with it.
Similarly to the first two, the contesters following them did not succeed either; no one was able to wield the weapon.
“The weapon is enchanted!”
Screams echoed through the stadium, a multitude of voices blending into a chaotic and loud mess, drowning out all sense of reason. Some of the suitors joined the audience, some others even started throwing things, yet again some others got up and started approaching you. Threats were being thrown at you left and right. The crowd turned into a kaleidoscope of anger, chaos and pure outrage, when amongst the commotion a steady, metallic march made itself evident; an army of soldiers led by a tall, armoured blonde with a less than unpleased expression on his handsome face, heading to the arena at a relentless pace.
But the crowd kept screaming and yelling, not noticing the 43 men who’d returned from a battle that lasted 20 whole years. It was only when their leader entered the arena, lifted the weapon and sliced all targets in half in one clean strike that silence found its way into the stadium, an icy shiver creeping up on all the spectators as the man turned around, surrounded by hundreds, if not a thousand people. His golden eyes that resembled the sun, though, were only focused on a single person.
After 20 years, your husband returned home to you. It felt like a distant dream came true, a hope that dimmed in your heart finally becoming reality. He was back. Was this really him? Or was this a mere dream? It felt like time ceased to exist for a moment, like everything froze in place except for you two.
“Mydei? Is it really you?”
Instead of answering, Mydei walked up the stairs of the arena where your seat was located.
He stopped in front of you. “See for yourself if I am an illusion, or if I am the true Mydei.”
Overjoyed, you didn’t know what to say - you had envisioned this moment all the time, and yet, you still couldn’t think of anything to say. Your eyes met his as he turned to his people.
“Kremnoans, you have disappointed me. Instead of choosing to trust in your king and trust in my leadership and might, you decided to make an enemy of my wife, your queen, and thus betray me. Now that I, Mydeimos the Strife, have returned, be prepared to pay for your crimes with blood. Let it be known that your king has returned!”
Cheers erupted yet again, but for you, it didn’t matter. ‘What if it’s an imposter?’, your thoughts went rampant with doubts, ‘What if that is not my husband that has returned? There is only one way to find out…’
When he turned toward you again, he immediately picked up on the mistrust in your eyes. “You really don’t think I am the real deal?”, his frustration was evident, his eyes were tired after venturing for 20 years. “Mhm, I do, but… Can you throw our wedding bed out, first?”, you anticipated his reaction. “Our what? I come back after 20 years and that is what you think of? Besides, I made that thing from the olive tree where we first met. I’m afraid you have to fight me if you wish to get rid of it”, Mydei seemed perplexed.
You definitely knew it was him now. He was home.
Inspired by the Ithaca Saga of Epic: the Musical, mainly ‘the challenge’ and ‘hold them down’, since I’m listening to those right now… by the way, I didn’t even play the Amphoreus quests yet, so if this is extremely ooc I sincerely apologise! I literally googled his voice lines for this.. and I didn’t want to give him too much trauma so Scylla and Zeus just.. didn’t. It’s 2am, I should go to sleep
