Mastr Miscellaneous

The final bell rings and Justin is jolted back to life, gathering his things and rushing out the door and through the halls so he can get to the elementary school exit before Lucille gets out. he dodges classmates and teachers trying not to bring too much attention, all he wants to do is get home, set up his range, and shoot until his mom comes home. It takes just five minutes of running to reach the elementary school, where he finds Lucille sitting on a bench, shoulders slumped and head down. That slows Justin’s heart down.

“Hey Lucy,” Justin crouches down and picks up her bag. She looks up with big sad eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Lucille sniffs and frowns, “I don’t like it here…”

“What happened? People being mean still?”

Lucille nods, and Justin struggles to come up with helpful words. He can’t imagine what it’s like being her. This small town is, well, small. Everyone knows everyone, so when you’re different you really stand out, and there is no one more different than the Peters trio. Diana is the only single parent in town, not only that but it’s with two separate fathers. However, she has a preexisting social standing, being a very sociable and bright woman in society. Justin tries his best to fit in, he plays basketball, is a pretty average student, and has his close friends. But Lucille, she struggles. She struggles with people, is too smart for her own good, and is the only non-white person in town, and that makes her stick out. She doesn’t have many good days.

One of the elementary teachers walks up to the pair and warns them to head off straight home, the crowds are dispersing and it is too dangerous at the moment to be without a crowd. Justin nods and ruffles Lucille’s hair, gesturing to go home and promising to slip her a treat before their mom gets home. That gives her a little boost, and they go on their way, and Justin makes a note to tell their mom about this. She would know what to do.

As they walk home, Justin gets her talking, as he brings up camp. They talk about what they miss, what they wish they could be doing, what they are excited for. The general consensus between the two of them is they want activity, something exciting, something mythic. Justin talks about how Clara would be guiding them through training, Lucille talks about her half-brother Beckendorf and how he would teach her how to make something new. The further they walk, the deeper and more detailed their wishes get, and as they’re closing in on their street, something deep inside them swells.

The forest surrounding their town is deep, filled with mystery, wildlife, and danger. It is filled with shadowed places, thick foliage, and rocky hills filled with caves that hide danger. But today it seems to draw the two siblings in. The deep swelling pressure in their stomachs draws them to the trees, and their conversation dies. Their senses prick up, energy surging through their veins as they hear that rhythmic banging from deep within the foliage.

Wait, banging?

“What’s that sound?” Lucille’s voice is quiet and full of intrigue, her usually busy eyes transfixed on the trees.

“Sounds familiar, huh?” Justin smirks, “Wanna find out?”

“We’re not allowed in the woods.”

“We’re demigods! A bear can’t hurt us.”

“Mom doesn’t like us going in the woods.”

“We’ll be quick. Come on, it’ll be fun! Maybe mythical.”

The light shines in both of their eyes, and the fear of repercussion from their mother gets washed away by the pure excitement of adventure.

They walk a hundred yards the past the tree line, past tall, thick pine trees and wide reaching maple trees, over the floor covered in thick layers of foliage, through animal made paths lined with full bushes sprinkled with bright autumnal flowers. Each rustled branch and snapped twig on the floor makes Lucille jump and squeeze her brother’s hand a little tighter. Exciting a particularly full line of bushes, the two enter a small clearing that lines the base of a rocky hill, where they see a thin, tall gap between rocks, with a dim amber light protruding from within. The pounding sound of hammer on metal echoes within the walls of the thin cave, and the siblings look at each other, Lucille with fearful intrigue, Justin with bold curiosity.

“Ready?”

“Okay.”

The two peak into the mouth of the cave and see a distant orange light, the strong sound of hammer on metal louder than ever. Lucille looks up at her brother, who smirks and sneaks in, staying close to the ground and being as quiet as possible. Who could this be? A rouge demigod? A cyclops? A group of cyclopes? The possibilities are endless! Adventure nears, and the excitement rises as they creep towards the sound. The deeper they go down the cave, the stranger it gets. The natural stone and dirt transitions into brick and soot, the heat rises and the sounds echo, ringing in Justin’s ears, and making Lucille’s heart swell with excitement, the call to the forge being a loud one. Large wooden boxes start lining the walls, and display cases and half finished automatons and tools scatter the ground. Justin grabs for Lucille’s hand to pull her along, while she wants to stick around and look at the projects and inspect the tools. As she tries to examine a small mechanical centaur and Justin tries to wander drag her on her feet slip and she knocks over the creation.

Suddenly the beat of the hammer on metal stops, and it clatters down. Heavy footsteps plod unevenly towards the two, and they dash to the side and hide behind a box at the wall. Justin hugs Lucille close to his chest, surrounding her body with his, and placing a hand over her mouth to try and stop her making a noise. He feels her trembling in his arms, and deeply regrets pulling her in. He glances up, seeing the shadows moving on the wall above him, the shadow of a large, tough man shuffles towards them slowly, and a deep, gruff, familiar voice sounds out.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!”

Lucille jumps and Justin holds on tighter, keeping his head down and eyes up, desperately trying to hold on to his bravery. The shadowed figure stops on the other side of their box. A heavy hand slams down and the box shifts making Lucille squeak.

“Come out, demigods.”

A hand touches Justin’s shoulder and pulls him back with an intense strength. Justin holds onto Lucille and rolls to cover her as they are flung backwards. Trembling, he covers her and holds her tight, muttering in panic for her to keep her eyes closed, to stay quiet, he will protect her. But the figure speaks again, this time much quieter, softer.

“Justin Peters?” There is a hesitation, and then he speaks again. “Lucille? What are you two doing here?”

Justin fought his fear and looked up, and he meets the eyes of a tall, wide shouldered, dark skinned man with a thick beard and soot covering the exposed skin on his face and arms. He wears a thin raggedy shirt, and a thick leather apron. That explains the familiarity.

“Lord Hephaestus?” Justin unfurls from his position, releasing Lucille from his grip. She rolls over and looks at her father in awe, all her fear washing away. “What are you doing here?”

“This is one of my forges- What are you two doing here? You should be home, or at camp.”

“We heard you in here, we got curious…”

Justin stares at the god waiting for something to happen. Something bad, something good, a quest or a punishment for invading his space. But he is just met with soft, concerned eyes. The same ones that looked his mother in the eyes nine years ago and told her he couldn’t stay with no explanation.

“Dad?” Lucille’s voice snapped Justin out of his stare.

“Hello, my daughter. What are you two doing here?”

“Justin just said, we heard you. What are you working on?” she spoke quickly and excitedly, starting to rock happily. Hephaestus smiles and beckons her to follow him, easing himself up as his leg brace creaks and he shuffles away towards where he was working. Lucille jumps up and runs after her father in excitement. Justin grumbles to himself and follows, though he can only admit he is curious what a god does in his free time.

He rounds the corner and jumped, not expecting to be confronted by a headless giant. In the centre of the room stood a near seven foot bronze statue of a large, square built man with a delicately shaped ripped tunic and knee-high sandals. A man-sized club in the right hand, and a round dented shield strapped to the left, the statue was posed to be mid swing, stood on a long marble platform with gold lining and lettering in ancient Greek; 1. Slaying the Nemean Lion. In the empty space on the platform there were three twisted metal rods, presumably mounts awaiting the erection of the Nemean Lion. Which means the headless statue was Hercules. Herakles! Clara would kill him if he said the Roman name!

Justin searched for his sister and spotted her perched on a rickety stool, peering over Hephaestus’ thick arm as he showed her the head of this statue to his daughter. Justin moved to take a look. The head was as large as Justin’s chest, thick and square with a thick beard and thick curly hair. Where the eyes should be were two sockets. Justin walked closer and stood behind Lucille, finally seeing what was in the god’s broad, calloused hands. One on the counter, and one in his hands, two dainty white spheres of quartz with large sockets drilled through the middle. The one in his hand had a mushroom shaped piece of tigers eye crystal. Justin and Lucille watched as Hephaestus takes an even smaller mushroom shaped crystal, what looks like obsidian, and slots the stalk into the socket in the tigers eye. Now the sphere looks like an eyeball, and Hephaestus slots it into one of the sockets in the bronze head. The stare makes Justin shudder, but Lucille bounces in her seat happily.

“It is nearly Herakles’ birthday.” Hephaestus grumbles, taking the other crystals and assembling the eye. “The king has requested I make statues in his honour. I have completed eleven of the twelve labours.”

Hephaestus turns and gestures to the statue, “It is modular, I make each piece individually and slotted them together, that way the animation works a little more smoothly. This one will show him hitting the lion’s head to stun it.”

“What about the lion?” Lucille asked excitedly.

“He will be swiping up at Herakles. Once I figure it out. I will admit, I never actually did see the Nemean Lion. I have no reference for it.” He slots the last eye into the statue’s head. He picks up the head and examines it. “That is why I came here. I wanted to catch a glimpse of it.”

“That’s what the reports are.” Justin thinks back to what he knows of the Nemean lion. A huge, golden lion, the size of a bear, maybe bigger. Huge claws and bigger teeth, and a taste for human meat. “It’s not a bear attacking town, it’s the Nemean Lion! That means we can help!”

Hephaestus whips around, a quick look of fear flashes on his face but just as quickly disappears. He shakes his head, “No, no on. Demigod, this is not your problem to deal with.”

“But it’s terrorizing the town! They’re organising hunting parties that will never win because mortals can’t kill it! People will die! At least there’s a chance for us!”

Hephaestus held up a hand to silence Justin. He wanted to argue, but a wave of weight washed into his lungs and throat. Hephaestus stood and took the head over to the statue, slotting it into place and tinkering with the fastenings. “That lion is no business of yours. It is too strong. Herakles himself took several attempts to kill it, and he was a grown, seasoned warrior. You have known who you are for a few months. Plus, I fear your mother would kill me if I allowed it.”

The weight lifted from Justin’s chest. He stood and pouted. He looked to Lucille for help, but she was busy fiddling with some left over wire on her father’s table, though he caught her glancing up. She wants adventure just as much as him.

“Fine. What if we don’t go to kill it,” Justin thought for a moment. He glanced over at the statue as Hephaestus continued working, occasionally looking up at the two siblings. “What if we just go record it for you. Get a picture. Then you can complete this statue.”

Hephaestus stops for a moment, his copper eyes flash with excitement but he continues to fiddle with his creation.

“What about it, my lord? Fancy giving us a quest?”

The god steps down from his statue and walks to his daughter, now alert and eager. He puts down his tools and looks at the two. He scans the room, then the two, then the room again, and slumps down onto a stool. “Just recording, ey?”

“In exchange for some help. You figure out how to get the lion away from our home, and we get some references for you.” Justin smiles the same way that usually gets adults to keep a closer eye on him. “Win win, I’d say. We get safety, a little glory, you get good references so you can finish your statue and not embarrass yourself in front of the other gods.”

Click.

Hephaestus growls, but a smile is hidden behind his beard. He stands and wonders to a box in the corner, rummages through it and pulls out a few items, and returns to the table. He places down the items in front of the two as Justin rushes over and hoists himself to sit on the table. He sees four items; a pistol sized crossbow with a bundle of bolts tipped with celestial bronze, a small celestial bronze shield, a simple digital camera with a bronze lens, and a bronze hexagonal slab.

“You have your father’s aim, correct?” Hephaestus slides the crossbow and bolts to Justin, and he resists the urge to roll his eyes or grumble. Apollo has no leverage in his talents. Hephaestus slides the shield to Lucille and continues on. “Now that and the shield are just in case. Preferably you will return with an undented shield and all ten bolts. Now, the camera is self explanatory, I have modified it so that the mist does not affect its images.”

Justin picks up the camera and pockets it, and Hephaestus picks up the hexagon. “Now this is the important bit. This is mapping device; it senses magical creatures. This will guide you to the lion.”

“How will we know it’s definitely the lion and not some other creature that wants to kill us?”

“I do not sense anything else right now. Just the Lion.” Hephaestus knocked the hexagon on table and a strip on the sides lit up, and three dots bounce around the surface of the metal until it they stop still. One red, along the edge of the surface, and in the middle a green and a blue dot. “The red dot is the lion. The blue, you Justin. The green, you, Lucille. Do not get separated. Now go, before I change my mind.”

The two drop from their seats and rush out of the forge, and as they get to the entrance, Lucille turns to Justin. “So, which dots are which?”

Everyone always forgets about her colour-blindness.

---------------------------------------

All confusions cleared up, Justin and Lucille march deeper into the woods, Lucille holding the small metal shield up to her shoulder, Justin keeping the loaded crossbow readied and eyes focussed on the tracker. They trudge through the foliage for what feels like hours, though in reality is more like one half. The red dot occasionally shifts location at the edge as they wander too north, but back tracking and eventually making the right finally makes the red dot move inwards, just further away from the edge. Justin bounces on his toes as this happens, and the two force themselves to quieten down as their excitement bubbles in their throats. They surge on, a little quieter this time, carefully placing their feet as to not make as much noise. Thankfully, Clara’s extremely specific training for capture the flag included traversing forest terrain as a mouse would; quickly and quietly. Justin’s eyes stay fixed on the red dot at their blue and green ones get closer and closer. They get close enough to a point that they can see the red dot pacing back and forth, circling a small area of territory. The dots grow bigger as they get closer, and soon their dots are a centimetre wide, on opposite sides of the hexagon, and Justin looks to Lucille with a wide excited smile. But she does not meet his eyes, she is transfixed on what is ahead of them, horror washing over her like a tsunami, and the shield shakes on her arm with her fear.

Following her gaze, Justin looks back to the tracker and up through a small gap in the bushes, looking out into an opening of dark reddish dirt, dark, stained rocks, and a littering of newly fleshed bones. Justin slowly and quietly crouches down, closer to Lucille’s eyeline and has to stifle a jump, or a squeak, or a vomit as his eyes settle on what her have been locked onto.

In a cluster of rocks lay scraps of material, crumpled guns, and three chewed up shoes, broken bones that look very human, scraps of meat surrounding the splinters with flies buzzing around the meat. But most sickening of all, the bloodied face of a man, staring at them with one eye and one cheek ripped clean off the bone, under a sheet of blood. The man’s neck ripped open, muscle and veins protruding from the wound. His chest was ripped open, ribs poking out and organs spilling onto the floor. A pool of blood seeps into the pale brown dirt beneath him.

Lucille shuffles back, as quiet as she could, her shield dropping past her shoulders and chest, just covering between her waist and thighs, copper eyes still locked on the body. Justin puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks, which snaps her out of her trance. Her eyes snap up to his, and he softens, lifting a finger to his lips and crouching further. He keeps his eyes locked on hers, and hand heavy on her shoulder. He mouths “It’s ok” and gestures for her to crouch down and keep the shield up. Justin pulls the camera out of his pocket and points it towards the rock cluster. He feels a tapping on his arm, and he looks down to Lucille who makes a gesture asking “where is it?”

That is a good question indeed. Justin struggles with the many things he has to hold and puts down the crossbow so he can take out the tracker again. It shows the same thing from earlier, it is directly ahead, about thirty yards in front of them. Lucille desperately taps Justin’s arm, and he looks up to see the monster. One giant red stained arm completely blocking their view of the man, the wet, bloody paw wrapped around his broken skull, bloody claws protruding and digging into flesh. Further down they see the giant, golden mane of the monstrous lion, gold glittering in the autumn sunset, old blood staining the outer layer, new blood splattering from of his mane.

Crunch!

The sound grits through their ears like sandpaper scraping against metal. They flinch but cannot look away. The lion lifts its mighty head and turns as it chews, and they see its profile. All wet with the man’s blood, its golden fur lies thick and sleek against its face. It’s eyes as black and shining as the obsidian crystals Hephaestus was using earlier. Its fangs dripped with blood and saliva, shining silver in the light, its large pink tongue moving up and down as its breathes between bites of meat. It must be the size of a truck, it’s mane seemingly the size of Hephaestus himself. Overall, Justin can only wonder how those three people survived being hunted by this thing.

Justin drops the tracker and lifts the camera to his eyes. Through the view finder he sees the lion’s ear twitch. He snaps a picture.

Click!

The ear twitches again, but the lion dips back down for another bite.

Chrunch!

It lifts it’s head a chews, and once done stands up and stretches.

Click!

It is six feet tall to the shoulders, chest as thick as the trunks of the trees, arms as thick as Justin’s shoulders are wide. It yawns, showing all it’s teeth. They look around eight inches long and razor sharp. It moves out from behind the rocks and reveals it’s whole body. It is definitely bigger than a truck. It’s muscles flex and ripple with every movement. It is a marvel of biological engineering.

Click!

It turns, shining black eyes locked onto Justin, and it charges.

-----------------------------------

Justin pushes Lucille to the side and dodges the lion’s pounce just in time. It crashes through the leaves and into mid-sized tree, a loud crack sounding out as the trunk breaks and starts to fall. As it crashes to the ground, Lucille and Justin are jostled on their feet as they split off and run, Lucille through the tree line and towards the rock cluster, Justin through the edge of the trees and towards the bodies. The lion scrambles back to its feet and stares at Justin. He drops the camera and pats his pockets, finding nothing but a broken pencil from class earlier in the day. The bronze tips of the crossbow bolts glint in the dim light under the lion’s paw. He never picked it back up. He is unarmed.

The great Nemean Lion charges. It takes a grand total of two strides before he is on top of Justin. Justin desperately attempts to get free, but every roll leads to a bat from a giant bloody paw, and a snap of giant jaws. It isn’t trying to kill him, it’s playing with him. Justin gets swiped to the right, but braces mid-way and rolls as the lion’s giant fangs snap down, narrowly missing his nose by a mere inch. He pushes his way under the giant arm, flinching from a searing pain in his shoulder, and weaves past the flick of the thick snake-like tail, and he runs, aiming for the pistol crossbow.

The lion roars, the sound making Justin’s ears ring, but he takes the last few steps and falls onto of the tiny weapon. The crossbow had released tension and shot the original bolt to some unknown location, so he grabs the instruments and dashes to the side, narrowly avoiding another pounce from the lion. It skids and regains balance, as Justin loads the crossbow and pulls back the string, swiftly turning and taking aim. Bolt point aligned to the back of the lion’s gaping mouth, the trigger is pulled and the bolt whips off, spiralling through the air, and into the lion’s mouth as it gets just ten feet away from Justin. He rolls as it falls and slides, and Justin dashes to the other side of the clearing as it crashes into a boulder. Justin loads another bolt as he runs and the lion stands to roars once more, but this time weaker, higher pitched. He gangs and grumbles, roaring once more and the glittering bronze tip of the bolt, now dripping with golden blood and saliva, drops to the ground. The lion turns to Justin and lowers his head, ears pinned back, and snout crumpled into a sneer.

Justin stands, hands shaking as he finishes loading the bolt, and his shoulder aches as he pulls back the string. The lion stalks forward, a low growl escaping his throat as small drips of gold leak from the back of his mouth. Large silver claws kneed into the ground and chiselled muscular shoulders flex as he readies to pounce. He raises the crossbow, aiming right between the eyes. With the shake in his hands he expects the bolt to land somewhere soft enough to penetrate the armoured fur. He pulls the trigger, and it glances off the lion’s nose, knocking his head to the side. Justin takes the chance to turn and dash towards the pile of boulders, and he starts climbing. He gets to a few feet up and his foot slips on a loose rock, and he feels a strong, silver claw glance his foot. The lion is right below him. He scrambles higher, ignoring the white hot pain flush up his leg from his foot, and he reaches the top, turning around the reload his weapon and sees the lion scrambling. He has a moment to collect himself. He sees his foot red with his own blood, it doesn’t seem complete. Then he sees it lower down, the bloody remains of his blue shoe, but inside is a thick mass of red with some white protruding. His foot, half up with him, half down there.

His breath quickens and his hands shake harder, he feels the contents of his stomach bubble up to his throat, and he remembers Lucille. Where did she go? He hopes she ran, hopes she hasn’t seen this, that she doesn’t know. He lifts the crossbow and the Lion reaches his feet. He kicks out with his good foot, and tries to steady his hands, aiming for they eyes, but it swipes up. The Nemean Lion has a longer reach than he thought. His shoulder cracks on impact, and he hears a scream as he falls. He hopes it is his own.

-----------------------------

Lucille watches as her brother falls from the top of the boulder pile, a high-pitched scream escaping her as he hits the ground like a discarded ragdoll. The crack is a sound she will never forget. The lion leaps from his position and lands at Justin’s lifeless form. He flexes his mighty paws, unsheathing his daggers for claws, and swipes down, Justin’s blood splattering across the ground and his leg shifting into an uncomfortable angle. She screams again, but the lion ignores her and goes to take a bite, and she feels a hot, golden rage fill her stomach and flow through her heart and muscles. Her vision blurs, the surrounding shades of yellow and brown blur into one, and the shining bright golden lion highlight in her eyes. He looks as clear as if he were inches in front of her. He appears to move in slow motion. As does she. Something inside her tells her to unstrap the shield and throw it like a discus. Before the thought was over, the shield was out of her hands and flying towards the lion’s face. It hits the lion in the nose and he is forces backwards.

A quick, panicked groan echoes from his throat as he is thrown backwards. Lucille runs forward, sliding past the body of her brother and grabbing a bolt, bouncing back up, and running around the staggering lion. The lion growls and shakes his head, fresh blood splattering across the opening, and he steadies. Lucille is behind him, bolt in one hand and bent shield in the other. Lucille scans the lion, looking for anything to use, and she realises it needs stunning. A strong enough hit to the head. She turns and starts climbing the boulder pile, the lion looks around rapidly until he spots her, and he turns and pounces to the bottom of the pile. But Lucille is quicker, the golden rush of power flowing through her muscles and forcing her upwards, until she is at the top, beside a boulder half her side. She lines up the climbing lion and starts to push, the boulder giving way with ease and rolling down. Before she knows it, there is a loud crack and a moaning roar from the lion as it crashes down to the ground, and she jumps. The bent Shield ends up under her feet as she lands on top of the lion’s stomach and she hears cracks, and a louder whine from his throat. It swipes at her, and a sharp pain shoots down her back, but she takes her chance, taking two long steps across the lion’s giant torso and takes the bolt in her hand, pinning the monster’s jaw down and she plunges the bolt into it’s eye. It takes one more deafening roar, and dust explodes below her.

Lucille falls to the ground, landing on the soft, wet fur of the lion. Her vision returns to normal, her heart slowing down, then immediately hastening again, as she looks up, eyes focusing on the body of her brother. The sharp pain in her shoulder grows, and her vision dims. She falls down and as she slips into darkness, a large figure limps into view.

-----------------------------------

That hot, golden energy swells around her as she wakes in a pitch-black space. A solid black floor beneath her feet, an endless horizon of black in all directions. She can hear waves in the distance, roars of various monstrosities, and the clattering sounds of sword striking sword. There is no source in any direction, no matter how far she runs in any direction, the sounds always feel just as far away. Lucille is alone, lost in a realm of shadows, haunted by the trials of a demigod.

Her heart beats faster the further she runs, each monstrous roar flashing her mind back to her brother, and the question of is he alive rings in her mind. The roars of beasts overwhelm her ears as the battle replays in her head, and she falls to her knees and cries.

Each whimper and chocking sob shortens her breath until her head gets heavy from lack of oxygen. She wails for her brother, screams deep into the void calling out his name, and she hears a voice.

“You will get used to it, little hero.”

She looks up, chest heaving and hiccupping as she breathes, too tired to react to the fear in her heart. Ahead of her is a pedestal with two thick pillars producing a warm, golden light, reaching high in the sky so the tops cannot be seen. Between the two pillars is a square built man, shrouded in shadows. Lucille tries to focus on him, but through the tears and the striking bright light, she just cannot focus. She whimpers.

“Don’t worry, kid. I won’t hurt you.” His voice is low, not quite comforting but definitely understanding, and dripping with bitterness. “I’m the one who helped you kill the lion. Thought you could use a hand, and well. You did it.”

Lucille doesn’t speak, still too breathless to make a noise.

“You will be ok, little one. I think I am going to keep an eye on you. You have spirit for the fight. When you need me, I’ll help you.” His head cocks and sighs. “It seems it is time for you to wake up, so I will leave you here. Excellent job today, Lion Slayer. Keep it up.”

--------------------------

Darkness blankets Lucille’s vision, but it’s different this time. Not so much a void, this time there are spots of dancing colours, circling and hopping between each other. Then the sounds appear, a nearby beeping, and voices. One high, one deep. The deep voice is hushed, low and mournful, only speaking incoherent words every so often between gaps in the high voice’s panicked, wailing yells. As she rouses, the voices become clearer and the colours turn to lights. the high voice becomes clearer, it’s her mother. She is yelling at someone large and square. Hephaestus.

“What were you thinking?” Diana screams through a cry, pushing the god back and making him stumble. “They are children! Lucille is nine! How did you even think sending them to the Nemean Lion was a good idea?!”

“I only sent them for pictures, and they asked-”

“They are children! They ask for a lot of things they think they want, but you are an adult, a god, her father! You should know how to say no! how many children have you killed because they asked for a quest, Hephaestus? Tell me!”

Hephaestus can only stand there, staring into the tear-filled eyes of his former lover, as he tries to reason with her over the fact that demigods often live truly short lives. An unfair truth, one he wishes was not so, but the fates are cruel. “I have lost many children before their time. The fates are cruel. But I have never wilfully sent them to their deaths. And there is hope still, Lucille is ok, and Justin… he is being cared for.”

“That does not guarantee his life. There are two ends of the day for my son; death, or permanent mutilation. Because of you.” Diana takes a shaky breath and turns away from Hephaestus, hugging herself as her shoulders shake. “Leave, Hephaestus. Never show your face here again.”

Hephaestus struggles to leave. He wants to comfort his former love, make sure his daughter is ok. But there has always been a pull around Diana, a force, ancient and strong, but unidentifiable and inviolable. So, he turns to the door.

“I am sorry, Diana. I am in your dept.” the light of the corridor outlines his large, square frame. He produces a sack from nowhere. “This is for Lucille. Her spoils… please, make sure she gets it.”

And with that, he leaves.

Lucille groans and Diana snaps into action. She rushes to her daughter’s side and perches on the bed, taking Lucille’s small hand in hers, brushing her hair away from her face. Lucille’s eyes focus on the warm golden glow of her mother, seeing the tears in her warm blue eyes, their tracks running down her flushed cheeks, and the attempt of a comforting smiles breaking through her quivering lips. “Hello, baby. I’ve got you now, you’re safe.”

Lucille fights back tears, which seems to be quite the trial through the fog in her head and the pain in her back, which she now knows to be four long scratch marks down her back from the razor claws of the Nemean Lion. “Where’s Justin?”

“He’s in surgery. He will be for a long time. But he was alive when Hephaestus found you both, and he was stable when he went into surgery. But for now, focus on you. How are you feeling?”

Lucille opens her mouth to answer, but a sob interrupts her thoughts. She curls into herself and feels the soft, comfortable arms of her mother wrap around her. Diana shifts so she is lying next to Lucille, and they spend the next few hours curled together. The night is gruelling, Diana barely getting any rest as she comforts her daughter and waits for new of her son. It takes hours, but she eventually gets new- Justin is alive, the doctors saved him. The worst part, he is now one leg lighter.

--------------------------

Lucille was given just a couple of weeks to heal, but the doctors lamented that the long claw marks would leave permanent canyon-like scars on her back. On the other hand, Justin was given a very long road to travel. Ten weeks of recovery, minimum. He stayed in hospital for two weeks straight, his residual limb kept in a rigid wrapping to keep the reconstruction and stitching in place to heal. When he finally got home, they realised how ill-equipped for this their house was, especially since he had to use a wheelchair for a while, until his stump was ready to stay hanging as he walked with crutches. The bathroom was too small for him to manoeuvre, the stairs were a struggle to shuffle up and then he would get stuck without his chair, and the corridors were too cramped for wheel himself. Helplessness filled his stomach with every day he had to be assisted.

The pain is unbearable. Even ignoring the ache from the incision, the flaming muscular pain and lightning strikes of severed nerves shoot up his knee, deep in the sawed off and shaved down bone, folded into his reconstructed calf. To distract himself from the excruciating pain, He experiments with his new reality, attempting to flex his toes, but flinching from the misaligned muscle. He bends his knee to keep up strength, and the scaring stretches and pulls. He feels unbalanced, a great weight suddenly missing from his left side. His whole life has changed.

How is he supposed to fight effectively? Surely this will get him killed. He cannot for the life of him see a way to include himself in sports, his mobility has changed so much. He can’t even shower on his own, needing help moving from the wheelchair to a folding plastic seat his mother got for him. But now he gets to try and regain some independence, for today he and his family are going back to the hospital to try on a prosthetic leg.

-------------------------

It feels strange. The weight is wrong, disconnected from the rest of his leg. The rubber sock attaching it to his stump is hot and sticky. Learning to walk is a terrible mission. The prosthetic rubs and pushes into strange places, the weight separating from his stump every time he lifts his leg. Its rigid structure makes it hard to properly roll through steps, and every limp hurts him even more. And what’s worse, he cant even support his own weight. Every trial step, a doctor is inches behind him, hands under his armpits ready to catch him when he falls, and his injured shoulder is struggling to hold his weight as he holds the walking bars. But turning around to see the eager and excited faces of his mother and sister fill him with enough drive to continue. Every time he falls, screams in anger, and wants to give up, his mother smiles, looks him in the eyes, and tells him to breathe and try again. So he breathes, stands again, and takes another step. The doctor asks what feels wrong, and he looks to Lucille. Her interest in the structure of his new leg, her hope to play with him again, she keeps him calm enough to think of where hurts and feels wrong. After a few hours, the doctor makes enough adjustments and changes to the prosthetic it feels comfortable and usable. Not natural, not his, but enough.

He removes it to go home, getting back in the wheelchair and his mother pushes him with his new leg out. When attempting to see their bill, Diana is told there is no charge for them. It has been covered.

“By who?”

“A company, Lemnos Incorporated.”

-------------------------

“Lemnos?” Clara repeats through the Iris Message. They have spoken every day since he was released from hospital. She has been a great saviour for him these past few weeks.

“Yep. Lemnos Incorporated. Mom thinks it might be a charity or something, but she can’t find anything about it.”

“I think there’s a reason for that.” Clara thinks for a moment. “Hephaestus gave you the quest, right?”

Justin nods, tightening his lips and clenching his jaw, making a claw motion over his heart, and pulling away. They have barely spoken about the god, and the quest. The thought fills him with a white-hot rage strong enough to mask the electric pain in his lack of a leg.

“Well, there’s the link. Lemnos was Hephaestus’ patron city. Lucille said he was in your mother’s debt. Maybe getting your prosthetic was him repaying it.”

Justin grunts and rolls his eyes. He wants nothing to do with the gods and their debts. As Clara opens her mouth to speak, they hear a light knock on Justin’s bedroom door. He recognises the light triple knock as Lucille, and beckons her in. She enters with a large hessian sack.

“Mom just found this. my dad gave it to me.” She plays with the simple rope tying it closes. “He said it was my spoils.”