The Villain of Ancient Greece

Several days later, on the Areios Pagos.

A streak of violet light slipped through the dense night, stealing silently away from the star-bathed hillside and descending into a grove of trees outside the walls of Athens.

”Lorne!”

With a cry full of overflowing joy, the tall, cool beauty with violet hair had barely touched the ground before she was already charging toward the figure sitting by the fire, the one she had been thinking of day and night.

Lorne smiled and opened his arms, pulling Medusa into a long embrace, murmuring softly against her ear.

”I’m back.”

The two stayed in each other’s arms for a while, venting their intense longing, before Medusa, having soaked in enough warmth to satisfy her for now, reluctantly pulled herself out of those arms and took hold of Lorne’s arm, speaking up of her own accord.

”Come, I will take you back right now. Everyone has been missing you.”

”No rush. First tell me in detail what has been happening while I was gone.”

Lorne held the girl back and sat her down by the fire, then asked about the recent state of affairs in Athens.

Hearing his words, Medusa, whose straightforward nature had not changed in the slightest, naturally told him everything she knew without holding anything back.

And with this attendant god of Athena as his inside source, Lorne quickly pieced together a clear picture of what had changed in the city of Athens.

First, through his persistent efforts, the goddess of memory had finally been persuaded to leave the sacred mountain of Helicon with the nine Muses and come to Athens.

Under Athena’s arrangement, they had been integrated into the work of organizing the Athenian archive, contributing a great quantity of valuable texts and helping the cultural and educational work of the Athenian Academy flourish steadily.

During this same period, the goddess of justice, who was overseeing the compilation of the Legal Code, had also been dropping by frequently, discussing with the goddess of memory Mnemosyne how to draft the clauses with airtight precision, closing every loophole that might give rise to unfairness. Progress on the legal front was proceeding in an orderly manner.

Following on from this, with the serpent mother Echidna’s arrival, the previously restless Stheno and Euryale had become well-behaved almost overnight, not daring to cause any trouble.

The sea goddess Thetis, who had accompanied Echidna, had also been received warmly by Athena. The two of them could often be found touring the Areios Pagos and the city of Athens together, laughing and talking like sisters.

And finally there was Circe. Since Hecate had selectively forgotten about her, the great sorceress of the island of Aiaia had simply settled in Athens as well. Recently she had been enthusiastically studying cooking under the guidance of Hestia, the goddess of the hearth. The two of them, sharing similar interests, often gathered together to experiment with recipes, and had reportedly been saving a grand surprise for a certain someone’s return. Although the kitchen had exploded roughly a dozen times due to the occasional addition of rather questionable ingredients, the general situation remained stable, and had directly and indirectly enriched the culinary culture of Athens in the process.

What kind of ingredients make a kitchen explode? Are you two cooking or doing alchemy?

Lorne kept the thought to himself, and quietly counted himself lucky that he had not gone straight up to the Areios Pagos.

When all those goddesses were gathered in one place, every last one of them was a consummate actress. So for all the surface warmth and harmony, it was like a mountain of petrol barrels, guaranteed to ignite the moment a spark came near.

Unfortunately, Lorne had a fairly strong suspicion that he was precisely that spark.

Having been off gallivanting with the three Gorgon sisters, only to come back bringing a whole crowd of women whose relationships with him were ambiguous at best.

One wrong step and those tigresses would likely carve him into several dozen pieces.

So to avoid being torn apart by that particular group, Lorne had not dared go directly into the city. Instead, he had chosen to lure out the easiest to manage, Medusa, gather his intelligence, and then figure out his next move.

”By the way, what about young Medea? How is she doing?”

”It seems she has joined the Athenian Academy and is working through a full program of cultural and magical study. The centaur sage Chiron has given her very high marks, and apparently intends to offer her a direct appointment as a lecturer after she completes her studies.”

Medusa answered honestly, lifting her chin with a faintly proud air.

”And we get along quite well.”

Lorne smiled softly, reached out with his usual habit, and gave Medusa a gentle pat on the head.

That familiar touch closed the distance between them, carrying with it a wave of warmth.

Feeling the warmth and tenderness resting on her head, Medusa’s lovely face, bathed in firelight, broke into a smile of deep contentment.

If only time could stop at a moment like this, and everyone could go on living quietly and happily. Perhaps only the word happiness would be enough to hold it all.

And yet...

”About Asclepios...” Medusa hesitated for a long while before finally steering the conversation toward the painful reality she was reluctant to face.

”I know.” Lorne gave a nod and cut off the memory before it could unfold further, speaking in a measured voice. ”Tell me where it happened. I will handle the rest.”

Medusa gave a docile nod and placed a rune-stone carved with a serpent pattern into Lorne’s hand. ”We sealed the area and put up a warding inscription as you said. This stone is the key to pass through it.”

Lorne pocketed the rune-stone, glanced at the waning moon sinking toward the west beneath the dark sky, and rose to take his leave. ”Good. I will go and take a look.”

Then he clapped his hands together, calling over the three Charites who had been waiting at the edge of the grove, and introduced them to Medusa.

”These three are friends of mine, and also the attendant gods I have chosen for Lady Hestia. Take them back to the Areios Pagos with you. Once I have finished with matters over there, we will regroup.”

Trusting by nature, Medusa raised no questions and agreed at once.

Watching that once-reliable little companion march off with three volatile personalities to run interference for him, Lorne’s thoroughly self-serving heart could not help generating a small twinge of guilt.

But his vigorous will to survive promptly stamped that flicker of hesitation out entirely.

Having Medusa bring the three Charites over was still considerably better than walking up to the Areios Pagos himself and parading them around in front of everyone.

He had not yet had his fill of living, and had no desire to be dismembered by those women on the hill using one excuse or another.

Watching the four figures disappear into Athens under the cover of night, Lorne cleared his thoughts, put out the fire, and set off for the place where the god of medicine had met his end, wearing the appropriately solemn air of a man come to pay his respects.

Guided by the resonance of the rune-stone, Lorne arrived at the site after roughly two hours of travel.

The scene before him was one of complete devastation. Everything for a wide radius was scorched black, the grass and trees withered away, the rocks and soil bearing the savage marks of intense burning.

At the very center, a fissure dozens of meters deep opened in the earth.

Lorne leapt down into it, looked around briefly, then crouched and picked up a fragment of charred wood from the blackened soil, holding it close to his nose.

A rich, concentrated medicinal fragrance filled his nostrils, pulling up memories he knew well.

So. It was definitely him.

Lorne let out a long breath, took in the devastating marks left by the lightning strike all around him, and silently cursed Asclepios, that stubborn, advice-ignoring fool, with everything he had.

But what was done was done. Whether any chance remained, he could only try and see.

With that decided, Lorne made up his mind, confirmed that no one else was near, then crooked his finger and produced the golden sacred cup, channeling his divine nature and divine power into it until they transformed into deep-red wine. He poured it out across the scorched earth, his voice rising in a solemn chant.

*”Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill.*

*Cycle and return, and five times over.*

*Wind descends from heaven, let walls contain it.*

*Gates open to all four directions, and all are closed.*

*Born from the Crown,*

*At the crossroads on the way to the Kingdom, flow in endless return.”*

The deep-red wine seeped into the earth, moving on its own, tracing out the circular base of the array, line after line of sacred words weaving themselves into the ground like burning brands.

*”Proclaimed:*

*This body answers to my command. My life is bound with yours.*

*Answering the call of the sacred cup, if you are willing to follow this will and this law, then respond.*

*I swear upon this moment:*

*I am willing to fulfill every righteous deed in this world.*

*I am willing to destroy every wicked deed in this world.*

*You are the lamb imprisoned in the wild enclosure.*

*I am the one who holds the chain.*

*Entrust yourself to me, be taught by me, obey me.*

*Soul that serves the light, answer!”*

As the last solemn note of the invocation fell, the final drop of divine liquid descended into the array on the ground, igniting the entire foundation.

In an instant, a column of blazing white light shot straight into the sky. A cold aether tide surged outward from the perimeter, lifting the dust and ash in all directions.

At the center of the light column, a blurred shape gradually grew clear as it absorbed the divine liquid poured down from the sacred cup, taking form from mist and shadow.

”I... what has...”

In a murmured whisper, a young man in a black physician’s robe with long silver hair and a gravity-worn expression stood within the magical array as the light faded, his head lifting as he looked around in bewilderment. His gaze finally settled on the man standing before him, holding a magnificent golden cup.

”You...”

”What do you mean, you. I just saved your life again, you ungrateful wretch.”

Before the words could finish leaving his mouth, the figure ahead cut the young man off with a torrent of colorful cursing, then beckoned forward with an expression of complete exhaustion.

”Asclepios. Stop standing there and come help me up.”

In an instant, the name seemed to wake something sleeping deep in his mind. The silver-haired young man shook free from his daze, stepped out of the magical array, and helped his rescuer sit down to one side.

(End of Chapter)