The Dark-Hunters, page 442
“Welcome home, palatimos.” Precious one.
The doors opened and as Acheron passed through them, his clothing changed. His hair grew long and black and a flowing robe fanned out behind him as he walked over the white marble floor. He paused at the sign of the sun that was pierced by three bolts of lightning.
His mother slowed as she noted him studying it. “The golden sun is my symbol and it represents the day. The silver of the lightning bolts is for the night. The bolt to the left is for me and the past, and the one on the right is your father and the future. Yours is the bolt in the middle that unites and binds the three of us together and stands for the present. That is the sign of the Talimosin and represents your dominion of the past, the present and the future.”
He frowned at the Atlantean word. “The Harbinger?”
She nodded. “You, Apostolos. You are the Talimosin. The final fate of all. Your words are law and your wrath absolute. Be careful as you speak, for whatever you will, even in carelessness, will determine the fate of the person you’re speaking to. It’s a burden I would never have wished upon you. And it’s one I hate those bitches for. But I can’t undo what they’ve given you. No one can.”
“What exactly are my powers?”
“I don’t know. I took them from you and never looked at them for fear of exposing you to the others. I only know what Archon’s daughters cursed you to. But you will learn your powers in time. I only wish you’d come to me so that I could help you until you grow stronger.”
“Matera—”
“I know.” She held her hand up. “I respect you for being the man you are and I’m proud of you. However, should you change your mind, you know where I am.”
He smiled at her.
“In the meantime, this is all yours.”
Acheron looked around at the statues and somehow he knew who each and every one of them were. As he approached the set of gold doors, he saw the image of his mother to the left and Archon to the right.
The doors opened, and there he saw the remains of the gods where his mother had attacked them. They were frozen in the horror of their last moments.
His mother didn’t show the tiniest bit of remorse for what she’d done to them. “If the sight of them bothers you, there is a room below the throne room where you can store them. While I’m locked in Kalosis, my powers won’t let me put them there, but you shouldn’t have that problem.”
Closing his eyes, he wished the statues gone. In an instant, they were. He had no desire to see the images of people who’d wanted him dead.
His mother smiled approvingly. “You should have the ability to come and go from the human realm to this one at will. You’ll find that Katoteros is a large place with areas unexplored. The mountaintops are windy … and it’s on the northernmost point that you can hear the sound of your grandmother, the North Wind. Zenobi will whisper to you and succor you in my absence. Any time you need to be comforted, go there and let her hold you.”
“Thank you, Matera.”
“I will go now and give you time to adjust. If you need me, call and I will appear.”
He inclined his head to her as she faded away and left him alone in this unfamiliar place.
It was so strange to be here and it would take some getting used to. Closing his eyes, he could see the gods as they’d been. Hear their voices echoing in the faintest of whispers. And when he opened them, they were all gone and he heard nothing.
As he moved around the room, he realized he wore some kind of leather leggings.
Pants.
How very odd to know the names of everything and everyone without even trying. Whatever information he needed was there instantly.
Crossing the room, he approached the single black and gold throne … Archon’s. An image of Acheron’s dead body in it appeared in his mind. And in the next, Acheron was sitting in it, looking out on the gleaming, empty room. Though ornate and gilded, it was sterile.
There was no life to the palace. No comfort here.
He stood, and as he did so a large staff appeared by his side. Over seven feet in length, it held his emblem in gold and silver on the top. Atlantean words were inscribed down the smooth wood.
By this, the Talimosin will be known. He will fight for himself and for others. Be strong.
Be strong. He clenched his teeth as Xiamara’s words whispered through his mind. Gripping the staff tightly, he teleported himself to the top of the northernmost mountain. The sun was just beginning to set as the winds whipped his formesta out behind him. He gripped his staff tight, looking back over his shoulder to see where the palace stood below.
Then he heard it.
Apostolos … feel my strength. It will be yours when you need it.
He smiled sinisterly as he felt his grandmother’s caress against his skin. Closing his eyes, he took comfort and strength.
When he opened his eyes, he could tell they glowed red now. His vision saw so much more than it had as a human. He felt the pulse of the universe in his veins. Felt the power of the primal source and for the first time realized his place in the cosmos.
I am the god, Apostolos. I am death, destruction and suffering. And I will be the one who brings forth Telikos—the end of the world.
That was if he could ever figure out how to use his powers. Acheron laughed at the truth of it.
Turning, he headed down the mountain and back to the throne room in Archon’s palace. No, it was his now. Sadness hung deep inside him as he realized that though he had his grandmother and mother with him in spirit, he was still alone in the world.
Completely alone.
He froze as he heard something moving behind his throne. It was a soft scurrying sound … like a large rodent. Frowning, he teleported toward it, prepared to kill whatever dared defile his new home.
What he found there stunned him completely.
It was a small demon with marbled red and white skin and long black hair. Small red horns poked through the tangles of her curls as she looked up at him with red eyes that were rimmed in orange.
“Are you my akri?” she asked in a childish lilt.
“I’m no one’s akri.”
“Oh…” She looked about. “But akra sent me here. She said my akri would be waiting. The Simi is confused. I lost my mama and now the Simi needs her akri.” She sat down and started crying.
Acheron laid down the staff to pick the toddler up. “Don’t cry. It’ll be all right. We’ll find your mother.”
She shook her head. “Akra said the Simi’s mama is dead. Them evil Greek people killed the Simi’s mama. Now the Simi needs her akri to love her.”
Acheron rocked her gently in his arms as his mother’s shade appeared before him.
Simi stopped crying. “Akra, he says the Simi’s akri isn’t here.”
His mother smiled at them. “He is your akri, Simi.”
Acheron scowled at her declaration. “What?”
“Her mother was your protector, Xiamara. Like you, Simi is all alone in the world with no one to care for her. She needs you, Apostolos.”
He looked down at those large eyes that swallowed the demon’s small round face. Blinking, she stared up at him with the same trust and innocence as Apollodorus. And he was lost to that loving gaze that didn’t judge or condemn him.
“Bond with him, Simi; protect my son as your mother protected me.”
The thought of tying someone to him terrified Acheron. He didn’t want anyone enslaved to him. “I don’t want a demon.”
“Would you cast her out alone in the world?”
“No.”
“Then she’s yours.”
Before he could protest again, his mother faded away.
Simi snuggled against him and laid her head against his shoulder. “I miss my mama, akri.”
Guilt slammed into him at her whispered words as he held her close to him. But for him, her mother would still be alive to love her. “Where’s your father, Simi?”
“He died before the Simi was born.”
“Then I will be your father.”
“Really?” she asked hopefully.
He nodded, smiling at her. “I swear to you that you’ll never want for anything.”
Her innocent smile warmed his heart. “Then the Simi has the best akri-papa in the world.” She hugged him tightly. “Simi loves her akri.” As soon as the words were spoken, she faded as his mother had done. But as she faded, his skin just above his heart burned.
Hissing, Acheron jerked up his tunic to find a small colorful dragon emblazoned on his skin. He touched it gingerly, and heard Simi’s laughter in his head. The tattoo inched its way up, toward his neck. Her motion on his skin tickled until she settled over his collarbone.
“Simi is a part of you now, Apostolos. While on your body, she won’t be able to hear you unless you call for her. But she will be able to monitor your vital signs. Should she sense you’re in danger, she will appear to you in demon form to protect you.”
“But she’s only a baby.”
“Even as a baby, she’s deadly. Never mistake that. The Charonte are by their very nature killers. She will be hungry and you’ll have to feed her often. If you fail to, she’ll eat whatever is near her … even you. Make sure she doesn’t get overly hungry. And the last thing you should know is that her kind age very slowly. Roughly one year of a human’s development equals a thousand years of theirs.”
That did not sound good. “What are you saying?”
“The Simi you have is over three thousand years old.”
Acheron gaped at the information. “Shouldn’t she be with another demon who can train her?”
“You are all she has in this world, m’gios. Take care of her. As you have said, you are her father now. You’ll be the one to teach her everything she knows.”
Acheron placed his hand over the tattoo on his shoulder. He was a father …
But how could he train and protect a demon daughter when he didn’t even know how to use his own powers?
JUNE 30, 9527 BC
ATHENS, GREECE
Acheron was desperate to find food for Simi. He’d awakened to her this morning after she’d bitten into his hand. Luckily, he’d stopped her before she did anything other than break his skin.
“You’re not supposed to bite your father, Simi,” he’d told her kindly, but firmly.
“But the Simi’s hungry and akri was lying there all still and yummy looking.”
And he’d thought the worst that could happen was to look yummy to horny humans …
But now as they wandered through the streets of a once great city, he realized just how much damage his mother had done in the brief time she’d been released. The world he knew was gone. Roads and buildings had been leveled. People lay dead all over Greece …
Apollymia Katastrafia Megola.
Apollymi the Great Destroyer. While a small part of him was flattered by her love, the other part was horrified by what she’d done. So many lives gone. The entire world scattered into debris. All of Atlantis was now lost. Mankind had been thrown back into the Stone Age. All their technology and tools had been lost.
The survivors wailed in the streets that the gods had abandoned them when the truth was, they’d have been better off if they had. All of them were unfortunate victims of a war they didn’t even know had been fought.
He gripped Simi’s hand as they walked around, searching for a marketplace. In human form, she’d taken on an appearance very similar to his. They both had long black hair and while his eyes were the same swirling silver, hers were a light blue. She looked like any small girl out with her father.
“Hey, Simi. I have something for you to eat.”
Acheron jerked around at the deep masculine voice that called out to them. There was a tall, dark-haired man whose beard was thick. His skin was dark like a Sumerian and yet he spoke flawless Greek. Acheron held Simi back to keep her from running to him. “Who are you?”
The man stepped around a fallen column to kneel before Simi. He set a basket down at her feet and uncovered loaves of bread, fish and cheese. “I know you’re hungry, sweet. Dig in.”
Simi let out a squeal of delight before she set on the food with a vengeance.
The man stood up and offered his arm to Acheron. “My name is Savitar.”
Acheron frowned at the tattoo of a bird that marked his forearm before he shook it. “How do you know Simi?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “I know lots of things, Acheron. And I’ve come to help you learn your powers and to understand your simi demon. She’s too young still to be left to callous care and the last thing I want is to see either one of you hurt because of it.”
“I would never hurt her.”
“I know, but the Charonte have special needs you must understand. Otherwise she could die … as could you.”
Acheron felt the brush of hackles rise and he wasn’t sure why. There was something about this being that rubbed against his godhood and made him wary. “Are you threatening me?”
Savitar laughed. “I never threaten. I just kill whatever annoys me. Stand down, Atlantean. I’m here as your friend.”
Once Simi had devoured every crumb, Savitar picked her up in his arms to carry her while he walked through the crumbled streets. “She’s impressive, isn’t she?”
“My mother or Simi?”
Savitar laughed. “Both, but I was speaking of your mother.”
Acheron looked around and sighed at the destruction his mother had wrought. “Yes, she is.” And as they walked, Acheron realized something. “I can’t hear your thoughts.”
“No, you can’t. And you never will. You’ll find that many of the higher beings of the universe will be silent to you. Some gods, demons, and other special creatures. We all have our secrets, but the comfort to you is that most won’t be able to hear yours either.”
That was comforting. “Can you hear them?”
“The answer you seek is no, but the truth is, I hear you, Acheron, and yes, I know all about your past.”
He cursed at what he didn’t want to hear. “What of the others? Will they know my past too?”
“Some will.” Savitar shifted Simi in his arms, then paused to look at him. “I don’t care about your past, Acheron. It’s your future that matters to me. I want to make sure that you have one and that you comprehend how important you are to the balance of power.”
Balance of power? “I don’t understand.”
“Apollo cursed his Apollites.”
“And my mother killed them all.”
Savitar shook his head. “Many died with Atlantis, but there are thousands of them who have spread over the Mediterranean and who live in many other countries now, including Apollo’s own son, Strykerius. All of them have been cursed to die on their twenty-seventh birthday. All of them.”
“Then how are they a problem? If they all die in a few years, they’ll be extinct.”
Savitar stroked Simi’s head before he started walking again. “They’re not going to die, Acheron. They will live and they will procreate many times over.”
“How?”
Savitar sighed before he answered. “A goddess will lead them and show them how to prey on human souls to circumvent Apollo’s curse.”
Acheron was appalled. “I don’t understand. Why would anyone do such a thing?”
“Because the universe is complicated and there’s a delicate balance in all things that must be maintained.”
“Yes, but if you know these people will die, can’t you stop the goddess from teaching them?”
“I could. But it could unravel the very essence of the universe.”
Frustration ran deep through Acheron. He didn’t understand. Why would someone fail to help another if they had the power to?
Savitar picked up a random stone from the ground and held it in his hand. “Tell me what happens if I throw this with all my power.”
Acheron frowned until he saw an image in his head. It was the stone traveling through the air … it sped until it hit a man in his shoulder, wounding him. No, not any man. A soldier. His arm now lame, the stone’s wound forced him to become a beggar …
Eight score people would then die because the soldier could no longer protect them in battles that wouldn’t even be fought for years to come. But out of those people who died …
“It goes on and on and on,” Savitar said. “One tiny decision: Do I throw the rock or do I drop it? And a thousand lives are changed by one innocuous decision.” He let the rock fall to the ground.
Now it was harmless again and history wrote itself forward the way it was supposed to.
Savitar smiled down at Simi, who’d fallen asleep in his arms. “You and I are cursed to understand how the tiniest decision made by every being can go onward to affect the rest of the universe. I know what should happen … what needs to happen. And if I stop something as simple as a rock throw, it could cause catastrophic consequences. However, unlike you, I don’t see the future until after I act. The moment I do something, I then see everything unfold from that point on. You are lucky. You will always see the future before you act.”
“But I didn’t see my sister’s death.”
“No. The Greek Fates, when they cursed you, blinded you to the fate of those closest to you. Anyone you care about will be your blind spot.”
“That’s not right.”
“Well, kid, brace yourself. This one’s even worse. You also will never be able to see your own future or the future of anyone who seriously impacts your future.”
Acheron ground his teeth at the injustice. “Can you see it?”
“It’s why I’m here.”
“Then tell me what you see.”
Savitar shook his head. “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. If you knew what was ahead of you, you’d avoid doing the very things you must do in order to have it unfold properly. One small innocuous decision and your destiny will be altered forever.”
“But you can see your future.”
“Only after I’ve set it into motion and can’t change it.”
