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Kairos 24: Xenia
🕑 Added 2021-04-06 07:48:03 +0000 UTCThe institution of Xenia, or guest-friendship, was almost as old as the world itself. Gods old and new honored this tradition, and few crimes were greater than violating it.
Once Xenia was invoked, the host and guest shared mutual obligations. The host provided his guest with food, drink, gifts, comfort, and protection under their roof. The guest owed their host courtesy, stories, obedience, and reciprocity. Even their swords, if someone else threatened their host’s honor.
Kairos hoped the gorgon would have greater need of his words than his spear.
Euryale invited the [Hero], his mistress, and Rook into her abode deep inside the marsh; a two-story wooden hut five meters high and square. Ravens plucked the rotting carcass of an unrecognizable beast near a garden of poisonous flowers. Toxic waters formed a moat around the domain, the red hydra slithering inside like a guardian beast. To see the magnificent, proud beast reduced to a guard dog disturbed Kairos.
However, the [Hero] cared more for Andromache. Though the Scylla kept a strong face, her distrust and fear of the gorgon were palpable. Kairos offered his arm and took Andromache’s hand into his own, wielding his spear with the other; his mistress bristled at the open display of affection. “I do not need your help,” she hissed to him, albeit too low for Euryale to hear.
Kairos didn’t answer, sensing Andromache’s fingers tighten around his hand. Her walk betrayed her talk.
This place reeked of danger, and their host was no different. Euryale made no sound while she moved, and the local animals clearly feared her presence. Kairos also noticed a pike topped with human skulls near the house; a dire warning that some had gone this far, but never returned.
“Ssssmeell good…” Kairos heard to his left. His eyes wandered to the toxic waters, noticing black serpents on the shores; though no longer than one meter, each had a white spot on the forehead, and the grass rot at their contact. Rook glared at these reptiles while he followed his partner, sensing the danger.
“Basilisks?” the [Hero] identified the foul creatures.
“I breed them and harvest their venom,” Euryale said, as she opened her hut’s door. “It is so noxious, that if you stabbed a basilisk with your spear, the poison would travel up the shaft and slay you.”
He didn’t know whether she meant it as a warning or a threat, but Kairos had always been interested in breeding these creatures. “Could I take a few eggs home?”
The gorgon let out a burst of laughter as chilling as winter. “Let us discuss this around my table,” she said, inviting them inside her hut. “Come, and be my guests.”
Though Euryale invoked Xenia, neither Andromache nor Kairos relaxed at all. However, neither could take the gorgon on, and so abided by her wish. The couple carefully entered the house alongside Rook, their host closing the door behind them.
The first thing that struck Kairos was the sheer size of the room they moved inside. Much like Mithridates’ tent, the hut looked far larger from within than outside thanks to spatial magic. The [Hero] could have fit the Foresight within the walls.
Euryale was a powerful witch, and it showed. Bookcases stretched against the walls, holding a dizzying number of parchments, quills, ink vials, and vellum sheets. Other shelves contained bundles of dried herbs, potions, and preserved monster parts. A fireplace burnt with green flames north of their position, heating up an enormous black cauldron and causing colored fumes to rise from it. A long table, writing desk, and various amenities completed the set; the most impressive of them being the portrait of three sublime women with hair of gold, at which Euryale briefly glanced at with sadness.
Scarier still, black skeletons walked around the place with brooms and mops. They cleaned up the hut while green smoke rose from their toothless mouths and empty eye sockets. Now Kairos knew what happened to those Euryale didn’t turn to stone. Would they join their ranks at the dinner’s end?
“I will have my servants prepare a room upstairs for you,” the gorgon said, as the group sat around her long table. Rook moved in front of the fireplace, basking in the heat. “You shall be bathed, clothed, and leave at dawn.”
“We thank you for your hospitality,” Kairos said diplomatically, as the undead servants brought them food and drink. Wine goblets and plates of river fishes, cooked ravens, snails, nuts, and vegetables covered the table within minutes, though the [Hero] took more interest in the various magical items on display. His [Magical Knack] Skill had a field day, and even then, it failed to identify half of what he saw.
“We brought gifts,” Andromache said, trying to appease the gorgon. While she still feared the older spellcaster, Kairos could see a hint of respect in her gaze. The Scylla couldn’t take her eyes off the trove of knowledge on the shelves, and lusted for the gorgon’s secrets.
“That will wait after the dinner.” Euryale grabbed an enormous carp with her bare claws and ate it raw like a bear. An undead servant served another to Rook. “Perhaps you could start by telling me how you met? It must be quite the romantic story.”
Kairos and Andromache exchanged an embarrassed glance. Their relationship didn’t start on the best terms, and both wondered whether to lie or tell the truth. In the end, the Scylla decided to be blunt. “He tried to kill me,” she said, her fangs long and sharp. “He failed.”
“That’s not how I remember it,” the [Hero] replied somewhat playfully, while the gorgon remained silent as a tombstone.
Though the tension in the room remained thick, tongues loosened. Andromache narrated their adventures, though the proud Scylla gave herself the lion’s share of the spotlight; exalting the importance of her fire rods and magical power in the crew’s victories.
Kairos let her have her way, sensing his lover desperately wanted to impress the more powerful gorgon. Though the pirate couldn’t see Euryale’s Class, he guessed that she was a [Witch] from her hut; a specialization which Andromache shared. Perhaps the Scylla wanted to appeal to the gorgon’s magical sensibilities, in an attempt to avoid a clash.
Euryale listened to the stories without a word, but her eyes instantly sharpened when Andromache mentioned the phoenix. “Sunseed Photia, the Sun Reborn?” she asked. “Is that what you saw?”
“Yes,” Kairos confirmed warily. “We first found the island while hunting for it, but it vanished north of the island. One of my men suggested a dungeon is hidden there.”
“Your follower guessed correctly. The mountain does house a great dungeon untouched by the Anthropomachia: an ancient temple of Hades and Persephone, and one of the Underworld’s last entrances.”
Euryale marked a short pause before revealing the name, her voice booming like the wind.
“The Necromanteion.”
Kairos’ heart skipped a beat, and the pirate held his breath for a few seconds. A gate to the afterlife, on this island? That would explain why the phoenix flocked to it, and why the firebird could cross the barrier protecting the dungeon.
“Persephone barred the Underworld’s gates during the Anthropomachia,” Andromache pointed out with skepticism, surprise emboldening her.
“Not all of them,” the gorgon replied. “Or else the undead would overwhelm the living, and Persephone would miss her chance at revenge. She patiently waits for someone to finally kill Lycaon and send his soul to her domain, so that she may torture the wolf god for all eternity.”
“You said the dungeon was left untouched by the Anthropomachia?” Kairos asked, very interested. His curiosity overwhelmed his wariness.
“The Necromanteion used to be a place where the living could commune with the dead,” Andromache explained, which only increased the [Hero]’s curiosity. “Men like Odysseus performed the [Nekyia] ritual, and interrogated the shades of heroes long gone.”
“But now it is a place ruled by the monsters and the undead,” Euryale said. “If you can bypass the guardians, you will find a wealth of treasures and magical artifacts, especially in the realm of necromancy.”
“Do you know how to reach this place?” Kairos asked the gorgon.
“Yes,” she answered, before immediately dashing his hopes. “But I will not tell you.”
The [Hero] frowned, as he ate a stuffed raven’s wing. The flesh tasted as dry as the gorgon’s voice. “Why?”
Euryale looked at him with her malevolent eyes. “Though Hades provided Perseus with his [Helm of Darkness], his widow treated my sisters and me with kindness. She gave us sanctuary after our transformation, and for this, I shall not slight her. If you want to reach the Necromanteion, find the way in by yourselves. I will neither help nor hinder you.”
“I… I see.” Kairos was disappointed by the refusal, but accepted it gracefully. “Understandable. I shall not breach the subject again.”
The gorgon’s hair let out hisses which Kairos took for chuckles. “I expected more resistance. You seem the greedy rogue, from your paramour’s tale.”
“I came to save my men first, and they take priority,” the [Hero] replied. “I have learned the danger of asking for too much, too soon.”
“A wise lesson.” The gorgon sipped from a wine goblet. “Circe was a powerful seer and the daughter of Helios the Sun Titan, whose [Legend] vanished during the Anthropomachia. She might have foreseen the Olympians’ doom, and taken measures. The phoenix’s true role might have been to serve as a vessel for her late father’s power.”
Andromache’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “For what purpose?”
“I do not know, nor do I care.”
The Scylla showed her teeth for a brief instant, before correcting her expression. Her eyes radiated with bitterness, and her hands avoided Kairos’ touch. Her hatred for Circe and whatever plan she had hatched overwhelmed the Scylla’s heart.
“Since we are trading stories, did you fight during the Anthropomachia?” the pirate asked to change the subject, the gorgon nodding in response. “On which side?”
Euryale’s smile turned ghastly. “The winning one.”
“But you killed many men,” Andromache asked with a deep frown. “Your sister Stheno, in particular.”
“It is true we are no friends of mankind… but we hated the Olympians even more.” Euryale played with her goblet. “Do you know our story? Mine, and that of my sisters?”
“I heard conflicting accounts,” Kairos admitted.
“It happened countless years ago.” Euryale shrugged. “We were not children of Typhon and Echidna, that I can assure you. We were human once.”
“I heard you were virgin priestesses of the old goddess Athena,” the [Hero] said, although he was careful to cast it as a mere rumor not to offend his host. “That Medusa was loved by the god Poseidon, and her patron turned her into a monster when they had sex in her temple.”
Euryale’s expression turned into one of pure, undiluted disgust. “That is what the priests would have led you to believe. No, human, there was no consent involved. We were virgin vestals of Athena, and Poseidon did try to seduce my sister, yes. But when Medusa denied him because of her oath, he savagely raped her on the altar. When he was done, my sister’s breasts and thighs bled so much, I thought a wolf had attacked her. A beast.”
Kairos winced, and Andromache looked away in sorrow.
“And Athena…” Euryale’s grip on her goblet grew so strong that the metal bent. “The goddess we dedicated our lives to found no fault in her uncle Poseidon. Instead, she turned the three of us into hideous creatures, so we would tempt neither gods nor men with our beauty. When one of her favorite heroes came to take Medusa’s head for some foolish feud, Athena guided his hand. So when Queen Alexandria promised Stheno and I vengeance, if only we took up arms in humanity’s name... how could we refuse?”
“That was atrocious,” Kairos said, and he meant every word. “I’m… I’m deeply sorry.”
“Goddesses are jealous, petty things,” Andromache said, the story too close to home.
“The human tyrant Vali ripped out Athena’s eyes to gain her foresight, before gutting her like a fish,” Euryale said with a cold smile, as if she imagined the scene in vivid details while she spoke. “As for Poseidon, he was torn apart by his own [Demigod] children, each of them trying to steal his power for themselves. If you ask me, the world’s destruction was worth this sweet retribution.”
“Whom did you fight during the war?” Kairos asked her.
“Dionysus. We turned his retinue, the Thiasus, to stone while Queen Alexandria slew the god and claimed his power. She now rules a southern empire as a living [Goddess].”
The Travian captain’s thoughts turned to Nessus, who feared the gorgons and knew rituals of Dionysus. “Was there a satyr hunter among your victims?”
“Satyrs, in Dionysus’ retinue?” Euryale laughed, the hut’s walls trembling. “Now, you will forgive me if I do not remember. I gazed at more mortals than there are fish in the ocean, and few survived.”
Kairos avoided her eyes and looked at his empty plate. Undead arrived to clean up the table.
“About your men...” Now that dinnertime was over, Euryale went straight to business. “They have wronged me, by entering my domain without my permission. These marshes are mine, and have been so since the great flood. I have never released so many from the stone, so I demand compensation.”
“We brought gold, jewels, and silver,” the pirate tried to bribe her. “They belonged to a dead queen.”
“I will accept these gifts, but they will not buy your men’s freedom.” Kairos had expected as much, considering the gorgon’s disdain for luxury, but the price she asked for almost made him jump from his seat. “I would prefer your magical spear.”
The pirate winced. He couldn’t offer that, even for thirty men’s lives. All his successes relied on this weapon. “How about something you have never seen before instead? A new potion to join your collection?”
The gorgon let out a bellowing laugh. “A potion I never saw before? Surely you jest.”
“Let’s make a bet,” Kairos said coyly, as he braved her gaze once more. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “If you have never seen before, you will do something just as rare and free my men. If you have seen it before, you can keep it and my men.”
“I could lie.”
“You won’t. You are a woman of your word.”
Euryale snorted in amusement, before looking at Andromache. “A woman of my word? Is he always such a flatterer?”
“He has his charm,” Andromache replied dryly, a thin smile at the edge of her lip.
“I accept your challenge, human,” the gorgon said, sounding vaguely curious. “Impress me.”
Kairos opened his travel bag, and put the jar Mithridates gave him on the table. Euryale seized the container, carefully opened it, and examined the content. Her hissing hair turned still and silent.
“Did you make this?” Euryale asked.
“No,” Kairos replied with a smile, knowing he had won the bet from her confusion alone. “It was a gift from another [Hero].”
“It is a work of art, and the closest thing to a perfect antidote I have seen yet.” Euryale sounded genuinely impressed. “Though I find the exclusion of dragon venom baffling. This seems either like a gross oversight, or an intentional loophole.”
Knowing Mithridates, it was probably the latter. Though Kairos wondered why dragons specifically. The chthonic, ancient serpents were rare, so perhaps the Poison King kept a jar of their venom for his own use. He did have the [Assassin] Class specialization.
“So?” the [Hero] asked, trying to sound modest.
“I am indeed a woman of my word.” The gorgon snapped her claws together, an undead servant taking the jar away. “I will release your men, but there will be no second chances. Anyone who enters my domain again, I shall slay.”
Kairos threw his hook to the waters. “Even if they come to trade?”
“I haven’t seen [Merchant] among your subclasses,” Euryale said with a snort. “What would I want to buy from you and your kind?”
“Little, from what I see.” Kairos glanced at the room. “You have servants to tend to your needs. You care not for luxury, and from your fence outside, you don’t like company either. You desire to be left alone, to research, and learn.”
“Sharp insight,” the gorgon said. “Though you undermine your own case.”
“However, you are clearly interested in gathering knowledge, and while your library is vast, it still has holes.” As proven by the jar. “Your isolation lets you focus on your research, but makes you deaf to new discoveries. You could benefit from ears outside, just as your knowledge would help us.”
“Or I could simply keep you here, and force you to reveal everything you know,” Euryale replied. “As I asked you back there, why trade for something that I can take?”
Andromache’s face turned into a glare at the gorgon’s threat, but both knew the [Demigod] had nothing to fear. Kairos remained utterly imperturbable. “But if you do, no one will trade with you afterward,” the [Hero] pointed out. “My knowledge may satisfy you for a time, but I am young and clueless.”
“I do not believe that at all.” The gorgon asked for more wine, observing her guest with interest. “I find you most refreshing, Kairos Marius Remus, and cunning too. Few would dare to talk to me, let alone try to befriend me. I have the intuition you offered me this jar as a test of character, just as Odysseus tempted Achilles with weapons when they sailed for Troy.”
The pirate answered with a smile, and sipped from his own goblet. The sour wine tasted so sweet to him.
“I also have wisdom to trade,” Andromache spoke up. “Though your knowledge dwarfs my own, ancient one, I can craft magical items. Some of which I do not see in your home, perhaps because you do not possess the necessary Crafting Skills.”
The gorgon listened without a word, slouching on her seat. “An interesting offer, and yet, you fail to understand one simple thing. No many times you ask, I will say it again. I do not trade.”
Kairos’ grip strengthened around his goblet.
“I teach.”
Andromache’s eyes shone with ambition. “Ancient one, if I may be so bold…”
“You are free to come anytime and learn what I know,” the gorgon replied, all but presenting the younger monster with an apprenticeship. “I was watching you long before I made my presence known, Scylla. I studied the spells you used to try and undo my stone gaze, and I admit you impressed me. We are kindred spirits, you and I.”
Both victims of the old gods.
“I… I am honored, ancient one.” Andromache nodded deeply. “I shall not disappoint.”
“As for you, Kairos.” The gorgon turned to the pirate captain. “While you are not without natural talent, you lack formal education. You have not even made this griffin your [Animal Companion].”
“[Animal Companion]?” Kairos asked, never having heard of this term.
“A Skill binding an animal or monster to their owner, creating an unbreakable bond. The creature grows stronger, and in exchange, their partner may see and hear through their eyes.”
“Really?” Rook, who had so far felt too intimidated by the gorgon to speak, immediately intruded into the conversation. He leaped on the table, his eyes shining with excitement. “I can grow faster?”
How did he under— “You have [Beast Tongue] too, Lady Euryale,” Kairos guessed.
“One Rank above yours,” she replied before petting Rook with her claw. Though the young griffin squealed at the contact, he eventually submitted and let her scratch his belly. “There are a few errands that someone like you could complete on my behalf. In exchange, I will let you borrow from my library, and take some basilisk eggs home with you.”
“This… this is a generous offer.” The [Hero] bowed thankfully, though he was secretly wary of the errands the gorgon had in mind. He hoped she would ask for alchemical reagents or similar favors. “I have long tried to find someone with information about subclasses like [Beastmaster], but my search remained unfruitful.”
“There was one you could learn from. Androcles. A long-dead [Hero] who befriended a Nemean Lion, the two forging an unbreakable bond.” The gorgon rose from her seat, grabbed a scroll from her bookshelves, and handed it over to Kairos. “He compiled his observations about his Skills, subclasses, and discoveries in this book. Consider it a gift, from a host to a guest.”
Kairos carefully seized this manual he had searched for half his life, and read the title with a respectful silence. ‘Androcles’ Bestiary: A Study on Monsters.’
Congratulations, you earned three levels (total 37) and 9 Skill Points.
Indeed, you defeated your enemies when you made them your friend.
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After these fruitful exchanges, Andromache and Kairos offered gifts to the gorgon and retired in the room she gave them. It was quite rudimentary, though it felt like months since the pirate had seen a true bed rather than a goatskin mattress. Even Rook had been granted a litter, and slouched on a pillow. No doubt he dreamed of how big he would become, once his partner unlocked the [Animal Companion] Skill.
Most importantly, the undead servants had filled a small wood bathtub for the couple. Kairos immediately took it over for himself, rejoicing in the warm waters.
Andromache slipped into the waters once she finished undressing, keeping only the tooth necklace around her neck. She sat on Kairos’ lap as if she owned it, her back and hair resting against his chest. Though both shivered when their skin touched, her expression was thoughtful, distracted.
“Will you accept her offer?” the [Hero] asked the Scylla, as he played with her soft hair. “An apprenticeship is a serious commitment.”
“Of course I will accept, my foolish man,” Andromache replied, raising her legs above the waters and letting droplets fall from her feet. “I have craved magical power since Circe cast her spell on me.”
“Then why the look of concern?” Kairos quickly realized why. “The phoenix?”
“I want that bird, Kairos.” There were flames in her gaze. “I want that dungeon, and its secrets. Whatever plot Circe hatched, I want it to go down in flames. She crushed my hopes, and since I cannot kill the dead, I will destroy her legacy. With my own two hands.”
Kairos had never seen Andromache so fierce. She had been angry before, but this was a cold, focused anger. Something sharpened through centuries.
“Perhaps you could learn how to enter the dungeon here,” the pirate suggested. Though Euryale refused to tell them how, the answer was probably somewhere in that library.
“While you go marry another and bring her back?” Andromache looked over her shoulder, and into his eyes. “I would not want to ruin your wedding.”
She had guessed his trail of thoughts. “I will be back for you,” he said, kissing her on the neck. This mark of affection transformed her fury into a thin smile. “Unless you find me first?”
“Not unless you run off,” the Scylla replied, though Kairos couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. “I haven’t taken a bath with someone else since my time as a naiad.”
Come to think of it, Kairos never asked her where she came from. “You were bound to a source, or a lake?”
“A spring, long destroyed.”
“We will make another, once we have lifted your curse.” They already intended to deviate the river’s waters for crops. “One just for you.”
“For us,” Andromache replied, without showing any hesitation. “For us, my other half.”
“So you’ve finally agreed to go see Orgonos?”
Andromache nodded slowly. “I am starting to understand why he and your ancestors rose against the Olympians. Perhaps… perhaps I defended the wrong side.”
Yes, she did. After hearing Euryale’s tale, Kairos realized that for one man fueled by ambition, two more climbed Mount Olympus for justice and revenge. “We will need to find a suitable gift to secure an audience,” he said. “An artifact in the dungeon could do the trick.”
She rested her head against his shoulder. “One that could let you speak with the dead?”
She had hit the mark. “Even if I cannot truly bring them back to life anymore,” Kairos said, “if one can truly meet the Underworld’s ghosts inside the Necromanteion, I want to see my family again. However, the colony comes first. I will fight for the living, not the dead.”
The disaster with Orthia had taught him that at least.
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A/N: Chapter made possible by you, dear patrons.
Comments
Julien Fellegara
Awesome.
Novice Reader
I am addicted!
Imran
Thanks!
Sahil
Great chapter
Anton Selling
Great work, as always.
