#zartemis

Artemis broke the news to her hunters the next morning, after each of them awoke for breakfast. In an instant, the sense of calm that normally accompanied dawn was broken, replaced by an almost nervous tension. One of silence and confused glances across the circle. Each girl convinced that they had somehow misheard, or that this was some kind of joke. But their goddess’s demeanor was clear, this was all too real. As that realization hit, Artemis was bombarded with questions, all of them focused on one central concern.

Why can’t we go with you?

In the chaos, Zoë couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, as Artemis argued back and forth with a dozen upset hunters, thankful that all the focus was on Artemis’s decision to leave, and not on her chosen replacement. The only acknowledgement Zoë received at all was a congratulatory pat on the back from Mira, as her roommate beamed with pride.

After what felt like hours, the protests died down as a certain acceptance was reached, and the hunters at last dispersed to ready themselves for the battle that lay ahead. But Zoë would not join them. Instead, her goddess took her aside and led her through the winding streets and busy marketplaces of the city, stopping only when they reached the royal palace. Artemis entered confidently and requested an audience, one that was soon granted. Zoë needed to meet their allies, after all, and Artemis needed to make it clear to King Priam that the hunters were not his to command, even in her absence. Two birds killed with one stone.

Priam took it all in in silence, only looking Zoë’s way when the goddess finished speaking. He regarded her strangely as if he didn’t know what to make of her. And Zoë could imagine why. She had fought alongside her goddess for a century now and even trained with the general of the Titans himself, but she carried none of that experience on her face. To all the world she was nothing more than a young woman. And while Artemis herself looked even younger, she had all the power of an Olympian held within that youthful appearance. Power that could not be ignored. Zoë was supposed to take her place? It must have seemed absurd.  

But then the man at his right spoke up, a soldier dressed in immaculate bronze armor, with the demeanor of one that knew exactly what war entailed. Hector, the eldest son of Troy. “Well met.” He began, voice cordial but commanding. “We are truly blessed to have your continued patronage, Lady Artemis. Please, let us know if your hunters will need any additional support while you are away.” He turned to his father, with a smile that left no room for argument. With the commander of Troy’s forces on board, the king relented, halfheartedly repeating his son’s sentiment as they made their leave. 

With that settled, they spent the next few days getting their affairs in order; final preparations before the goddess was needed on Olympus. Zoë met with her nightly, asking as many questions as she could think of, to cover any potential issue that may arise in her absence. And each time, Artemis would smile and gently remind her that every scenario is unique, there is no right answer to all of them, but she trusts Zoë to do what is right. As if her trust was all she needed.

When the time finally came, the hunters were ready. They gathered outside the temple, each dressed in armor to say their goodbyes. Artemis spared a moment for each one, with many hugs shared and tears cried amongst them all. She approached Zoë last and pulled her into a tight hug.  

“Keep them safe” She whispered, soft enough for only Zoë to hear.

“With my life.” Zoë replied, conviction clear in every word.

At that Artemis pulled back enough for their eyes to meet. “And keep yourself safe”

Zoë almost smiled at the correction, wanting to respond with a sarcastic “If I must” and an eye roll. But she could tell that her goddess was genuinely concerned; she needed to be put at ease.

“Of course, my lady”

Artemis held her gaze for a moment longer, to ensure she got her point across, before stepping away. Without further delay, she took her place at the front of her chariot. One hand clasped around the reigns, as she looked over her followers. A final glance shared between them. With a flick of the wrists and a flash of light, she was gone, and the hunters were truly alone.

Zoë let out an exhale, as she felt a dozen sets of eyes settle upon her. “We best be off.” She said, looking over the group. “The fighting should resume in an hour’s time; we need to be ready by then.”

She placed her helmet on her head, and secured her quiver, as she made her way to the wall. Projecting a confidence she didn’t feel. For now, the others followed.

Year 1

Zoë surveilled the battlefield below, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Close to the wall, the greatest of the Achaean and Trojan forces faced off in one-on-one duels. Each one a hard-fought struggle of strength, endurance, and skill between each army’s finest. A spectacle worthy of Ares himself. But Zoë paid them no mind. Hector had insisted that each duel be decided with honor; no outside interference was allowed. And Zoë saw no reason to disagree. The hunter’s talents would be better served elsewhere, namely on the lines of solders gathered 20 yards behind them, locked in an endless stalemate.  

The Achaeans had formed their lines well, as they approached the city in tight phalanx formations, each about 8 men wide and 8 men deep. Between the shields and armor, Troy’s archers were all but nullified. There were still openings here and there, lethal shots to be taken, if one was patient enough, but they were so infrequent that it almost wasn’t worth the effort. The natural advantage of the high ground was all but lost.

But not all shots needed to be lethal. Zoë lifted her hand, a signal for the hunters to hold their fire, before drawing back her bow. Her form slow and steady, as she readied her aim. There wasn’t much there, but she fired anyway. A nick on the shoulder, a silver arrow lodged in a thigh, another arrow connecting with only a hand. She continued her barrage of arrows, hitting skin wherever she could find it. In total only 10 men had been hit, though all had been unphased by her efforts. Then she waited.

Before long her first target, a large man that held up the center of the front line, began to slow. His spear arm suddenly sluggish, his shield nearly falling, as his body weakened. An easy kill for their Trojan allies. The two men behind him were next, one suddenly struck with confusion while the other dropped on the spot. From there, the others she hit began to suffer, some worse off than others, but combined it was enough for the phalanx to fall.

The nightshade poisoning had taken its toll.

Poison was not a tool used by the hunters. Artemis wanted her hunts to be a fair contest, a test of skill between hunter and beast. One that wasn’t truly completed until the spoils were taken and enjoyed around the campfire, in respect of the animal’s sacrifice. As such, poisons were highly discouraged, unless absolutely necessary. But Zoë had been a Hesperid, one with a thousand years of experience with all sorts of plants and their cultivation. If any of that knowledge could help turn the tide of this war, she had an obligation as the leader of the hunt to use it. Or at least, that’s what her father would have said, a statement Zoë couldn’t bring herself to disagree with. Only hope that Artemis would understand.

Over months, she tried out different toxins, before finally settling on nightshade, a plant she found herself taking a liking too. Easy to grow, but incredibly toxic. So much that she tended to the task herself, far away from the others. Long nights spent carefully brewing berries, roots, and flowers together, until she was left with potent poison. It was tiring work, and another burden for her to carry alone. But as she looked below, at the fear and panic her poison coated arrows had wrought, it was difficult to argue with the results. Zoë smiled with pride, at last signaling for her sisters to fire. Without their formation, the men were picked off easily, their number reduced by half before their commander could call for a retreat. Zoë watched them flee; the men who had arrived so confident, so desperate for glory, finding only misery and death. And as long as the hunters were here, that was all they would find.

She motioned again, and the hunters paused, taking stock of their arrows. Once more, Zoë scanned the battlefield, until her sight landed on another group of soldiers. There was still work to be done.

When the sun set, and the fighting finally ended for the night, the hunters enjoyed some well-deserved rest at Artemis’s temple. In those moments of joking and laughter over dinner, they could almost forget that they were still at war. But Zoë’s day was not yet finished. She stowed away her armor for the night, taking a few luxurious stretches once she was freed from the weight, and got back to work. She needed to prepare for tomorrow.

With that in mind, she joined her sisters by the fire, grabbing a bowl of food and taking notes on the day’s proceedings. They still had plenty of arrows prepared at the temple but were running low on the supplies needed to make more. They would need to send someone to the market soon and acquire more. She looked at her schedule to see who would be on temple duty in the next few days, one name standing out amongst the rest. A conversation she could no longer ignore.

“Callisto” Zoë said, raising her voice to speak over the normal evening chatter. “You are on temple duty with Iphigenia tomorrow. We are running low on supplies.”

“Why?” Her sister replied, voice tinged with annoyance. Offended that she had even asked.

It took all of Zoë’s willpower not to sigh. Leading the hunters on the battlefield was one thing, her sisters knew the flow of battle well, her orders weren’t much more than a formality at times. But getting them to follow her orders elsewhere was proving to be a challenge. She had expected issues taking over for Artemis, the hunters had never taken orders from anyone else, after all. It was natural for there to be an adjustment period. And they were all under so much stress, brought on both by the war and by Artemis’s decision to leave; they all deserved some patience and grace.

But for reasons Zoë did not understand, Callisto seemed determined to be difficult, as if she was the only one upset that Artemis had left them behind. And it was starting to get on Zoë’s nerves.

“Everyone else has already had their turn. And you have certainly earned the break.” Zoë had tried to soften the blow, but Callisto was having none of it. If anything, her mood only soured further.

“Everyone except for you, of course.”

“I am needed up on the wall, to lead the others, you know that.”

“But you have deserved the break.” She said, her tone matching Zoë’s from earlier. Mocking her.

Zoë let herself roll her eyes at that. “You may not agree with me sister, but I am not wrong. I am trying my best to place everyone where they are most needed. For the good of all of us.”

“Well, where we’re needed most is at Artemis’s side, so I guess you’ve already failed then.”

“And that’s my fault?”

“How is it not? Do you honestly think she would have left us here if she didn’t have someone so eager to replace her?”

Zoë opened her mouth, blood boiling at the accusation, but didn’t get the chance to reply, as Mira interrupted them both.

“Callisto,” she said, laying a calming hand on their sister’s shoulder, completely unphased by the argument between them. “If this is such a big deal for you, I’ll cover for you this time, if you cover for me the next time I’m up.”

The suggestion must have been acceptable, as Callisto’s rage appeared to subside a bit. But she still didn’t seem to want to let this go. “Whatever,” She stood, pulling away from the touch. “I’m going out for a walk; could use some air.” With that, she stormed out, leaving the hunters in an awkward silence. Zoë watched her go, unsure if she should go after her or not, but decided to stay at the temple. She was the last one Callisto would want to see, and Zoë was still enraged at her sister’s accusation. Whether that was the correct decision would remain to be seen, but for now, the hunters could return to their dinner. Even if the air was still uncomfortable.

“If anyone else disagrees with any decision I make…” Zoë started, unsure exactly what she wanted to say, but felt she had to say something. “feel free to speak up. I promise you all, I want Lady Artemis to return as much as you do. And I will do everything in my power to ensure we will all see her again, once this war is over.”

She did not receive much of a response from the girls, only a few nodding heads and soft words of agreement. But she spoke her peace, if only to herself. Another oath made in service of her lady, one she would do anything to keep.

Year 3

A scream pulled Zoë from slumber. Next she knew, she was on her feet, still half asleep, and heading for the door of the temple. Without the cover of a blanket, her thin sleepwear was cold, made colder still by her bare feet on the marble floor. But there was no time to dress, not when one of her sisters needed her.

Or at least that’s what she thought. When she arrived outside, she found Phoebe startled, but not otherwise worse for wear. The same could not be said of the young man on the ground before her, with her arrow aimed directly at his head. His thick linens were that of a Trojan soldier, but judging by her sister’s demeanor, he was no ally. Even in the dark, Zoë could see a thin line of blood dripping down his cheek and that the right hand he held close to his chest was broken. No, not just broken, crushed.

It seemed the situation was not as dire as she had feared.

“What happened?”

“He tried to get me to leave my post.” Phoebe answered, never taking her eyes off the man. “Then tried to grab me when I refused.”

“It’s not what you think…” He started, as if there were a way to defend his actions. Zoë cut him off with a swift kick to the side.

“No, it is exactly what I think, do not pretend otherwise. That you still draw breath is a testament to my sister’s restraint.”

“I’m sorry” He groaned, clutching his side. A pitiful attempt at an apology. But Zoë did not dwell on it. Instead, she turned her attention to someone who deserved it. “Are you alight?”

Phoebe nodded, appearing confident “I’ll be fine.” She said, but Zoë couldn’t help but notice the tension in her posture. Phoebe could hold her bow for hours, if needed, but tonight her arms trembled ever so slightly. Her sister was thoroughly shaken.

“So, what now” Spoke a voice from behind her. One of the small group of hunters who had congregated outside the temple, all stirred by the sudden commotion.

The question should have been simple. The man’s life was forfeit. If Artemis were here, he would have already been transformed into some small helpless creature. One they would hunt down with great satisfaction; see how he enjoys being someone else’s prey. But Artemis was not here, and Zoë could not claim the same divine authority she had. If this was not handled properly, there would be no telling how the Trojans would react, and Zoë did not want to invoke their ire. Not while they were surrounded.

But still…

“We must make an example of him, let the Trojans know that this behavior will not be tolerated. Tie him up. I will take him to King Priam tomorrow morning, and ensure justice is done.”

“Right, and what if the king doesn’t want to deal with him?”

“Then I will deal with him myself. I promise. Does that sound aggregable to you, Phoebe?”

Again, her sister nodded. “Good, I will watch him until then, you should all get some sleep.”

The others had enough sense to not argue and helped her restrain the man before returning to their own peaceful dreaming.

When dawn broke, Zoë all but dragged him to the palace, the man not willing to face the consequences of his actions with any dignity. But that was fine. There was no way he could get away from her, and it gave her ample opportunity to remind him of that fact. When she finally arrived in front of the king, she threw him to his knees.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“This man attempted an assault on one of my hunters last night. He needs to be dealt with.”

Before she could explain further, her prisoner interrupted.

“She’s lying, my king.” He began, voice soft and meek. “I was simply out for a walk, enjoying the cool night air after many hours fighting for our city, when I heard a voice calling to me from Lady Artemis’s temple. As I approached, one of them attacked me, and shoved me to the ground. I did nothing wrong, I swear it.”

A pitiful defense, Zoë thought, rolling her eyes. But the king paused, considering it carefully.

“Do you have proof to back up your claim?” He looked to Zoë, as if she were the accused.

She scoffed. “His injuries are proof enough. We do not bother with men unless we must, my sister would not have attacked him unless he deserved it.”

“So, it is your word against his.” Zoë felt disgusted that he was even deliberating this. Whether he truly did not understand, or simply did not want to understand, she didn’t know. But it didn’t matter. She would make him understand whether he wanted to or not. Zoë spoke her next words slowly, intent on clearing up any confusion on the severity of the situation.  

“If you let this go, Lady Artemis will pull her support, I assure you. Were it not for the women and children of Troy, I imagine she would have pulled it already.”

“All for the actions of one man?”

“No” Zoë’s eyes flashed, indicating her annoyance. “For the actions of two.”

Judging by the anxiety that appeared on the king’s face, the point had been made. He sighed and leaned back on his throne. “Very well, I leave him to you.”

The prisoner erupted in anger, struggling against his bindings, in a last-ditch effort for survival. He drew a breath, likely intending to use his final moments to lay every curse he knew upon her name. But he was denied that chance. In a single motion, Zoë drew her hunting dagger and slit his throat. An end fit for a beast. As he collapsed on the floor, she didn’t spare him or the king another glance. Her message was sent.

When she arrived back at the temple, she sought out Phoebe, telling her that the deed was done. If her words were not clear enough, then the scent of blood that clung to her blade was all the confirmation she needed. Phoebe thanked her quickly and went back to putting her armor on for the day, seemingly unphased by the news. But Zoë saw her sister let out a small exhale, saw the relief in her eyes. Phoebe would be ok, and that was all that really mattered.

Year 5

Zoë rested on the roof of Artemis’s temple, admiring the view. There were no trees to block her sight, no buildings in the way. Nothing but an uninterrupted view of the stars; one she’d take advantage of for as long as she was able. On a night like tonight, cool but not cold, clear skies, and complete silence, it was perfect. A time of much needed relaxation. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, basking in the serenity for as long as she could justify. But as she opened them again, she reminded herself that she did not come here just to look at the stars.

“I do not have much to report tonight, my lady.” She whispered. Her prayer barely spoken to ensure she didn’t wake her sisters as they slept below. A difficult balance to reach, but something she had become used to over the years.

“The war rages on, with no end in sight. Even with reports that the Achaeans are growing weary and that infighting has become commonplace at their camp, you would never know it on the battlefield. They fight with as much resolve as ever, as if they intend to fight to the very last man. I am still certain we will outlast them, your blessing makes it so, but still things have been…. difficult on everyone.”

Zoë sighed. “But, we suffered no injuries today, so I suppose things are still going well”

She paused before proceeding, clearing her mind of some of the lingering frustration with their progress, before proceeding to happier topics. “Iphigenia’s training has progressed nicely, given the circumstances. The girl has picked up archery faster than I did.” Zoë smiled and shook her head. “Though I suppose everyone does. I am still keeping her from the front lines, as we discussed, but I am certain that she will make a fine huntress, once we have put this city behind us.” Iphigenia still had much to learn from the wilds; how to track prey, how to find water, how to move through the forest in effortless silence. But Zoë was confident her newest sister would succeed, and in turn get to experience all the freedom and joy that came with being a huntress. Something they all yearned to return to, after years spent in captivity.

“As for the others, they have begun to respect my leadership. So much so that I have been given a title.” Nightshade. To the Trojans, the epithet was nothing more to a reference to the poison that coated her arrows, weapons used in defense of their city. But she knew that’s not what the hunters meant by it. For them, it was a promise; she who would ensure those who harmed the hunt faced deadly consequences. It wasn’t as grand as the numerous titles her lady claimed, and Zoë still was not sure if she truly deserved the recognition, but she could not help but smile, anytime she was referred to as such. A welcome sign of her sister’s approval.

“I admit, it is strange to receive such honors. I never thought I would be able to call myself more than your hunter, or more than…” more than a Hesperid, Zoë finished in her mind. But that need not be discussed now, that was a conversation that they both deserved to have in person. “Well, I suppose we can discuss this further, when next we meet.” Deep down, she knew there was no guarantee she would ever see her lady again, but that was a thought she refused to entertain. She would see this war through to the end, they all would. They had to.

The moon shined higher overhead, a sign that her time was up. She needed to get some rest, if she was to be of any use tomorrow. Any lingering thoughts or longing for her goddess would need to wait. She sat up and carefully moved to her feet, sparing one final glance at the sky. “I must go for now, my lady. I will speak to you again tomorrow, if I am able. Until then, rest well and goodnight.”

Year 7

“Callisto!”

Zoë turned just in time to see her sister fall. An errant spear had come over the wall, hitting Callisto square in the chest and knocking her off balance. Time seemed to slow as she tumbled over the edge, and into the city below. Gone from their view.

“Mira” Zoë called, as she began her descent, with Phoebe close behind her.

“Already on it.” Mira responded, moving to direct the hunter’s fire, while Zoë attended to more pressing matters.

They found Callisto crumpled on the ground, holding her left leg in pain, but still breathing. It was clearly broken, as was her ankle, both contorted to unnatural angles. But her greave seemed to lessen the damage and kept the bones from breaking the skin.

“We’re lucky this wasn’t worse.” Phoebe said, as she carefully removed her sister’s armor. Zoë could not agree more.  She sent a silent prayer to the fates, thanking them for their mercy, before kneeling by Callisto’s uninjured side to give Phoebe room to work. “You will be ok”

“I know…” Callisto tried to say more but was silenced by the pain as Phoebe shoved her bones back in place. The healer grabbed a few arrows from her quiver, breaking their points and securing them on Callisto’s injured leg with layers of bandages, finishing the split with a quick prayer to Apollo, for good measure.

“That’s all I can do here; we’ll need to get her back to the temple.”

Zoë nodded. “I will take her right; you take her left.” Together, they carefully helped her on to her feet, until both her arms were rested across their shoulders. It took some coordination, but eventually, they found their footing and began to limp back home.

“You don’t need to do this, Zoë.” Callisto groaned. “You should head back up, I’m sure Phoebe and I can manage.” But Zoë shook her head.

“I am needed more here. I do not think Lady Artemis would forgive me if I let anything happen to you.”

For once, Callisto did not disagree.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. One grueling step at a time, until they at their destination. Together, they laid her down on her cot as carefully as possible.

“She’ll be fine.” Phoebe said, as she started arranging blankets and pillows around the injured hunter, until Callisto was comfortable. “Probably won’t be back on her feet for a few weeks though.”

“Understood, I should be going then. Let me know if her condition worsens” Zoë turned to head back out, when she was stopped.

“Wait. Phoebe can you give us a moment.”

The healer obliged, leaving to gather a few supplies from her bag on the other side of the temple.

“Thanks again, for the help today. Don’t know if I would have done the same if our positions were reversed.”

Zoë held up a hand. “It was nothing. It will take more than a few harsh words to keep me away. And I have certainly heard worse.” The youngest of the Hesperides, Aigle, once called her a filthy thief for over a hundred years after her favorite hair pin went missing, deciding her eldest sister was to blame. A grudge that was immediately dropped when the pin in question was finally found between some of Ladon’s teeth, never to be brought up again or apologized for. One of the few downsides of immortality, everything lasted longer, including the petty fights between siblings. And while it had been infuriating to deal with at the time, the memory now only brought feelings of nostalgia. Things were so simple then.

“Still,” Callisto grimaced, and Zoë wasn’t sure if it was from the words she struggled to find or the pain. “I was wrong about you. I thought you were doing all this for yourself; for the glory or to get Lady Artemis’s attention. I see now that’s not the case. You’re all right, Nightshade.”

Zoë smiled, despite the circumstances. “I am honored to have your support.”

“Don’t push it.”

She closed her eyes and snickered, before Phoebe returned with the bandages. Her time here was up. She slung her quiver over her shoulder and summoned her bow. “Heal well, sister”

Year 10

The streets of Troy were deserted, its citizens resting after a long day of feasting and celebration. The Achaeans had finally retreated; the war was over. There was no final decisive victory, no last stand, their foes merely left in the middle of the night without warning. As if all of their bravery and bravado that had carried them for a decade finally ran out. It had not been the glorious and bombastic ending that Zoë had expected, but it was an ending that suited her fine.

She walked the streets almost solemnly, with only the moon to light her way. Troy had been home for the longest decade of her life, it almost felt strange to leave it so suddenly. As she meandered through familiar streets, she wondered if she’d ever return. It would not be for centuries, at least, and the city would surely change much in her absence. Become unknown to her again. It was strange to think about, but in a way, it's what she fought to for, the continuation of Troy and its people. But she didn't do it for them.

When she turned the final corner, she found that not all revelry had ceased. The temple of Artemis was fully alive and in the midst of partying, the news of the Achaean’s retreat reaching them before Zoë had. And as always, she was all too happy to join them.

“Zoë!” They called, as she picked a spot around the fire. Crossing her legs comfortably as she settled on one of the pillows and helped herself to some wine.

Mira got her attention with a snap. “Here, catch”

Zoë caught it with one hand, the other still holding her filled cup. She set it on the floor, careful not to spill, and inspected the item she was thrown. It was a helmet, one she instantly recognized was hers, but was confused on why her sister had given it to her. Until she turned it in her hands and saw the plume decorating the top. The silver hair that identified her as one of the Hunters of Artemis was changed, a single purple stripe added down the middle. The color of nightshade flowers.

“Paris came by earlier asking what tribute our goddess would want, as thanks for defending the city. It wasn’t too hard to get some purple dye for our lovely Lady of Nightshades. Along with some food and drink, of course.”

Zoë rolled her eyes at her sister’s Paris impression. Even after a decade of war, the man could be so dramatic. It really was no wonder that he had chosen Aphrodite’s favor over Athena’s and Hera’s. But her expression softened with a smile that grew across her face. “You should not use some of our lady’s tribute for me.”

Mira shrugged and sent a glance over to the statue of Artemis that kept watch over the altar. “I’m sure she approves, she would have let us know if she didn’t, right?” She paused, and stared at the statue, as if expecting some kind of sign. But nothing happened. There was no change in the air, no sudden appearance of one of her sacred animals, or anything really, to show the hunters that their goddess was still listening.

She sighed. “Has she reached out to you at all?”

Zoë shook her head. “No.” It was difficult to be ignored, to be treated as if they were no different than any other mortal. But all that was about to change. “We’ll see her at dawn, will we not? We can ask her then”

Her statement brough out a few cheers from the hunters who had been listening in, excited to see their lady again. One of them lifted a cup, for a toast. “To Lady Artemis, may her journey here be as swift as ever.”

“To Artemis.” They repeated, cups smacking together, a bit of wine spilling on the floor. Zoë grabbed her own cup and took a few more sips. Ready for a night of feasting and fun, now that Troy was finally behind them.

As soon as the wine touched her lips, their night was interrupted by the sound of a large bang from outside. “Zoë?” One of her sisters called. “You’re going to want to see this.”

They joined her at the entrance of the temple and saw the unthinkable. The bright blaze of a thousand torches, all gathered near the front gate of the city, accompanied by the rumble of soldiers charging. The Achaeans had breached the walls, Zoë wasn’t sure how, but that didn’t matter now. Troy had fallen and the pillaging had begun.

She put her hunting horn to her lips, as if by reflex, and blew as loud as she could. The note was clear, even over the sounds of fighting in the distance. But still, nothing happened. There was no flash of light, no arrival of a silver chariot to carry them far away from here. Nothing.

“She left us here to die!!!” Iphigenia screamed, voice panicked.

“No.” Zoë replied, wondering what had gone wrong. Artemis would never abandon them; she was sure of it. And yet, here they were trapped in a doomed city without her. “Something must be keeping her.” That was the only explanation she could think of, the only thing that made sense.

“So, what’s the plan?” Mira asked, as they all looked to her for guidance, waiting for her to find some way to save them.

Zoë looked toward the gate again, the multitude of torches, growing ever closer. She donned her helm. “We need to buy her time. Iphigenia, I want you and the healers to pack everything and ready the wounded for transport. I want us ready to leave as soon as Lady Artemis. Mira, you are here with me, the rest of you, follow Callisto to the roof and summon your bows. I want you to fire on anyone who approaches the temple.

“What about you?”

Zoë drew her sword, for the first time in a century. The weapon Artemis had acquired upon her request didn’t feel as comfortable in her hands as anaklusmos once had, but tonight, it would serve her well. She pointed to the entrance of the temple. “We will stay here to finish off anyone who makes it through your fire. Ensure no one gets through."

With the plan set, everyone went to their respective positions and prepared for the worst. Zoë had grabbed a shield, for extra protection, while Mira had chosen to fight with her pair of hunting knives. Together, they stood watch.

It took some time for any of the invaders to arrive. Artemis’s temple was closer to the outskirts of the city than the entrance, and there were certainly more enticing places to pillage along the way. The first few men to approach them were disorganized and undisciplined, running around as if they expected no resistance. They were picked off easily by their arrow fire. For a while, that was all they faced, careless fools.

Eventually, the men grew wise, noticing their fallen comrades that lay before them and assembled themselves into a quick phalanx; 3 men wide and 3 men deep. They walked slowly forward, shields raised, tight enough to keep the arrows at bay. If they got too close to the temple, they would no longer be in the line of fire from the archers on the roof.  The hunt would be overrun. They had to be taken care of.

Zoë ran straight towards them; shield held in front of her. She heard Mira calling for her but didn’t have time to explain, she needed to break the formation before it was too late. The men extended their spears on her approach, intending to run her through. But it didn’t matter. They were mortal men; she was a huntress; they were outmatched.  Once in range, she dodged the thrust of the spears and used all her strength to kick the shield of the man in the center, knocking him over along with the two men behind him.

No longer safe behind cover, the men dispersed, some running straight for the temple, while three men surrounded her. She focused her attention on those facing her, trusting her sisters to handle the rest. The first man charged her with his spear, and for a moment she was not fighting these men, but her father. Years spent training, his javelin vs her sword, clashing against each other from dawn to dusk. A battle she could never win. But the spear that came for her now was different, its wielder’s form was sloppy, the charge slow and weak. She sidestepped it easily and countered with a precise slash to the space between his helmet and breastplate. One man down.

His comrades changed their strategy, taking defensive positions behind their shields and trusting the reach advantage of their spears, trying to catch her between them. She dodged them patiently, until she found an opening. With a well-timed shield bash, she shattered one of the spears on impact. Before the now unarmed man could recover and draw his own sword, she rushed in, stabbing straight through his linen breastplate. Two men down.

The final man grew desperate, attacking as soon as she dispatched his companion. But he was still too slow. Using her shield hand, she grabbed his spear and pulled it from of his hands. She broke it over her knee for good measure, before throwing it on the ground before her. Finally taking the hint, he turned to run but did not get far before a silver arrow lodged itself in his neck.

Finally free of combat, Zoë looked around her. Her sisters had done well, killing the soldiers she had been unable to handle herself, even as more of them had approached during the fight.  She motioned to Mira to return to their post at the front of the temple, when she heard the rumbling of feet behind her. Another battalion had arrived, over a hundred men strong. Too many, even for the hunters to handle. She looked at Mira, her eyes reflecting the same sentiment Zoë was feeling. This was hopeless, but if they were to fall, better to go out fighting than be taken as some sort of prize by these wicked men. Zoë gritted her teeth and charged, hoping to take as many of them with her to Hades.

Then everything changed. A warm breeze blew through her hair, accompanied by the smell of drying pelts and meat cooked over the fire. Home. The men dropped before her, writhing in agony. They screamed and pulled at their armor, as hair grew over their skin, hands turned to hooves, and helms were pushed off by antlers. Faster than she could blink, the army in front of her had been transformed into a herd of deer.

“Hunters, load up.” A voice called from behind her; one she missed most dearly.

Artemis was there, as if she had never left, her chariot parked in front of the temple as she caught girls evacuating from the roof; carefully placing them on the ground by the chariot, before holding out her hands for another. She looked to Zoë, as if she could feel the nymph’s gaze and their eyes met. Zoë held them there for a single beat and not a moment more, before she nodded and ran to the temple to assist the others. When she finished her final trip, she jumped into the chariot and sat down on an open space on the floor, completing a quick headcount.

“Everyone present and accounted for, my lady”

As soon as the words left her mouth, they took off into the sky. The chariot rose higher and higher until the city below was nothing more than a faint flicker in the darkness. Lit by a thousand torches. Zoë took a long breath; one she hadn’t realized she needed.

“I’m sorry I was late.” Artemis said to them all. “Father wanted to make it very clear that I was only to recue my hunters, no other mortals in Troy.”

“You made it in time.” Zoë assured her, thankful to see her again. “That is all that matters”

Artemis hummed, looking over Zoë as if in thought. She wasn’t sure why until the goddess ran a hand through the plumage of her helmet. “I don’t remember dying this purple.” Approval clear in her voice.

Zoë flushed as Mira nudged her in the side, an unspoken I told you so. “It was the other’s idea, my lady.”

“It suits you well, my nightshade”

If she could have somehow blushed further, she’s sure she would have. Instead, she simply smiled and felt thankful to be under the cover of darkness.

“You should rest, all of you, we have a long flight ahead of us. And I’m sure you’re all tired after fighting for so long.”