The Reviver’s Passage: Chapter XII
By: Prappies
The duo once more stood in front of Animus’s castle. The doors were closed, they simply stood waiting for entrance.
The doors, once more opened and allowed them to enter. Hestia stood behind the god, who waltzed in with bravado. He was far more confident than she was, as she slowly trudged behind him.
“Hurry up there,” the god said as he turned around to face her. She nodded and walked a little faster. He turned back in front of him.
When they made it to the castle’s main room, they saw Animus once more sitting on the ground. His sword blade was wedged between his teeth, a grim smile on his face. His blade sliced the corner of his mouth, beads of blood dripped down.
“Well… welcome back you two. I wasn’t expecting you for a while. You came back very soon.” Animus wiped the blood off his mouth as he took the sword out of his mouth. “No matter though. I doubt you came here to listen to me blabber.”
Animus pushed himself into a standing position. He stood up straight, his sword leaning on his sword, and his other hand hooking on his pants.
The god beside Hestia smiled. “You are very correct about that brother. Should we skip the talk?”
“If that is what you wish, so be it.”
“Ready?” whispered the god into her ear.
“I’m hoping so,” Hestia replied.
“Calm yourself,” was the last thing the god said. He turned into a ball of blue light and zipped into her back.
Calm yourself. Let the god do everything that needs to be done. I am to do nothing.
Hestia took a few breaths in. She inhaled… and then exhaled.
“Are you ready over there? You’re not going to punk out again right? That would make this fight very boring…” sneered Animus.
Hestia felt her body get into a battle position.
“Don’t count on it,” said Hestia with fake confidence. If Animus noticed, he made no comment.
“I was hoping for that.”
Hestia found herself ducking as a newly sharpened blade whizzed by the side of her face, missing her by centimeters. She rolled on her side, landing on her feet. Her breath hitched.
Woah, that was pretty cool.
“Stop getting distracted, that was all me first of all. You didn’t do that tumble, I did.”
Hestia snorted but didn’t say anything. She jumped to her feet, getting ready for Animus’s rebound attack.
“Not bad sweetie,” said Animus. “But how long exactly can you last for? That’s a question I’d like to find out…”
Hestia’s eyes widened as Animus ran her forward with a speed that could rival a cheetah. He attacked her with multiple forward thrusts and stabs, pushing her back. Hestia backpedaled quickly, her feet pushed and pulled her in ways that avoided all serious injuries.
Her heartbeat increased.
“Calm down woman. You are once more panicking. Lower your heartbeat.”
I’m not panicking, he is lying, She thought. My heartbeat is increasing because I’m moving around a lot. That is definitely it.
Animus had stopped his barrage, the god saw his chance and slashed at Animus himself. The god lunged forward just as Animus jumped backwards, narrowly missing a potentially deadly strike…well, a deadly strike if he had been a man.
Hestia watched with frank amazement as Animus rebounded quickly. In her distraction she hadn’t noticed Animus run behind her.
“SHOOT!” cried the god in shock.
He pivoted Hestia in the last second, her blade meeting Animus’s blade close to her chest. Animus’s blade brushed the bottom of her nose.
Using a level of strength Hestia had not known herself to have, the god screamed from inside her as he pushed his brother off her. Animus lost his balance, scattering backwards. Seeing his opening, the god threw a slash towards Animus.
Unfortunately for the both of them, even when stumbling, Animus had a level of balance in him. His feet stiffened, and one bend and one shot to the back, keeping him stable, as he blocked Hestia’s sword which descended down from above him.
His arms raised above his head, holding his blade against hers. Animus had yet to break a sweat, his grin was as big as ever. He spun on his bent leg, swinging his outstretched leg in a complete 270, kicking against Hestia’s midriff.
She let out a choke of pain, and she fell and went tumbling to the right.
“Relax, this is normal, woman. We both know we wouldn’t come out of this battle unscathed.” reminded the god, as he pushed her up immediately, ignoring the pain in her side.
“Easy for you to say since you can’t feel any of this…” Hestia said, saliva dripping down her chin. “And for the sake of the gods, wipe my mouth please. I feel disgusting with my chin this dirty.”
“How’d you know that?” Asked the god, listening to her plea. Her sleeve dragged along her mouth, wiping the saliva off.
“You sound very normal after all those injuries during training, only I was in agony.” answered Hestia, as Animus began running back towards her.
“Not bad, woman. You are not as stupid as I originally thought you were,” mocked the god.
“Hey, eyes on the prize here.” said Hestia, as she pivoted, narrowly avoiding Animus’s sword thrust. “And I think you should be a bit kinder to me.”
“Eh, we will see,” responded the god, using Hestia to send Animus a slash of their own. Animus rolled, avoiding the attack. He slid backwards.
“Not bad,” said the god of Hate. He licked his lips. “But you’ll need more than that to beat me unfortunately.”
He rushed in once more. And Hestia parried it again, pushing it away from her body. But he was on her again, before she had time to react.
“Too slow,” Animus said, spinning around slashing right at her stomach.
It hit.
Hestia screamed, she lost balance and fell backwards. The god inside her swore as she fell backwards. The wound started diagonally from the bottom of her waist to her chest.
“Don’t touch it,” warned the god. “Don’t take control, once I lose control it would be hard for you to let me get it back. Don’t touch it, it’s a minor scratch, don’t worry.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” she said, gasping in pain. The wound was bleeding profusely, blood dripped down like a waterfall down her shirt.
“Hestia please,” begged the god “We will win this, don’t let some little wound ruin this for us.”
“I won’t,” chided Hestia. “Let’s continue now.”
“Done chatting there?” Asked Animus. He spun his sword in his hand, catching it after 3 rotations. “Are you ready to continue?”
“Yes,” gruffed Hestia. Doing her absolute hardest to ignore the growing pain on her stomach.
“Good,” said Animus.
And within one second, he was on her. Once more, Hestia’s sword parried his hit, her sword pointed down, and her arms held at an awkward angle.
Animus pushed his blade harder, gaining more and more space on her, until their faces were nearly on each other. The god of hate grinned at her, and Hestia felt a tingle run down her spine.
And suddenly, Animus pulled back, releasing the pressure on her blade from his own.
“DAMNIT!” the god inside her screeched in an oddly high voice.
Hestia’s feet for some reason were unable to properly find the ground. Her toes grazed the floor without gripping, leaving her in a doozy situation. Her vision was spinning, and spinning, when her eyes managed to lock onto a single odd sight of Animus.
Animus dropped his sword to his feet. He stood there weaponless.
And he was walking toward her, his arms swinging at his side like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“ON YOUR FEET, ON YOUR FEET QUICK!” the god yelled at her. Hestia couldn’t listen after all, he was the one who was supposed to be in control. Perhaps his words was more for himself than her.
She got back on her, still and balanced, but before she could come to her senses, Animus had grabbed her by the collar of her filthy leather dress, and pulled her towards himself, using both his hands.
Hestia moaned as he dug his heel into her foot, their legs touched and he grinded down on her foot.
“Do not react, it’s fine this pain is nothing,” begged the god. “Please Hestia, take it, just take it.”
Hestia’s, or the god and Hestia’s hands were pushing at Animus’s chest, but the god of hate did not move an inch.
“You’re fighting against me Hestia! Please, I can get him off you if you just let me!” the god continued begging. Hestia bit her tongue, drawing blood as she felt and tasted it swish in her mouth.
One of Animus’s hands let go of her collar, and climbed downward to the wound in her stomach. Animus pressed three of his fingers tightly against one another, and using those fingers he brushed against the middle of her wound.
And then he jabbed her.
Hestia screamed.
He pressed harder and harder into the wound, digging his nails into the side of the wounds, pulling at it.
He tore at her wound manually, tearing skin from flesh. Hestia swore her screams could be heard from the overworld. She buried her face in his shoulder, whimpering in agony. She grabbed his neck, holding Animus close to her like how he had been doing to her. She looked at his face, turning her head still on his shoulder.
He met her eyes, and Hestia continued screaming in pain. A look of disgust flashed across the god of hate’s face, and… another expression. She was so stunned, that she stopped screaming for a second, still gasping, but stopped screaming, that she could’ve sworn she had seen the semblance of pity flash across his face.
It was gone as soon as it came, replaced by a hard, and angry expression. His fingers ripped her wound open further. Hestia grunted, and threw her leg backwards.
“What the-?” asked Animus. He never got to finish that sentence, as a groan elicited from his throat as Hestia rammed her knee into his crotch.
Animus released her immediately, whimpering just as she had only a few seconds ago, grabbing at his kneed in crotch, and falling to the ground.
Hestia fell backwards to the ground, seething over her wound still. She placed a hand on the wound, trying to lessen the agony with no avail.
“Good kick,” commended the god worryingly. “But let me get in now, I need to finish this off NOW!”
Despite the god’s pleas, Hestia found no will to listen, her agony too great to allow her to focus. She rolled on the ground, pulling her knees in, curling into a ball, praying to any gods that weren’t here in the underworld to stop the pain.
“Hestia up!” yelled the god.
Hestia did not listen, tears began to well in her eyes since the pain refused to cease.
“Hestia UP!” yelled the god a little louder.
And still, Hestia did not listen.
“HESTIA GET UP! GET UP! GET UP BEFORE ANIMUS GETS UP!” The god was in shambles, pleading harder and harder.
But at this point Hestia’s vision was blurring. In and out, in and out. White to regular to black, white to regular to black.
From the corner of her eyes, she could also see Animus reeling from Hestia’s knee to the area between his legs. At Least she knew one way that the gods were similar to humans.
Begging whatever ever kind gods there were out there, to help her out, she forced herself to sit on her knees. She grabbed the sword that she had dropped on the ground.
But she could not find the strength she needed to rise from her knees back onto her feet.
“Come on woman, almost there. You’re slowly relaxing yourself, just a little more please” the god pushed.
“I-” panted Hestia, “can’t. I’m so sorry” she weeped out. She doubled over, pressing her head to the floor, her arms wrapping around her stomach.
“Don’t say any of that!” chided the god “Come now, GET UP!”
The god’s patience was waning, be it from the panic that Animus would soon get up, or his annoyance at her, Hestia did not know.
“What was it that relaxed you before? When we were training… you did something different then that helped you cease panicking and let yourself relax. What was it???!!” the god asked, each work slurring with each other. Forming barely comprehensible sentence after sentence.
Hestia muttered something, her eyes shut, and her face sweating.
“Repeat that again?” asked the god with forced calmness.
“I was thinking of Wally!” She screamed. Animus looked over at her in confusion. Before going back to grunting from his own pain. Had her mind been a bit less preoccupied, she would have been proud that a simple knee had been enough to render a god immobile. But her mind was already occupied, unfortunately.
“Yes! Him! Remember him! Imagine him! Imagine his loneliness at being all alone, and imagine him being like that for all of eternity! He needs you, Hestia!” said the god.
“Fool,” growled Animus, pushing himself onto his elbows and knees. “Everyone dies eventually, you’d just be stalling this…” the god paused “man’s… fate”
“Well, stalling can be quite good! HESTIA GET UP!” he screamed into her head. Hestia’s hands pressed against her temples.
“Dear god would you stop…” silently begged Hestia.
“Think about your Wally, just think about him a little more, a little bit.” pleaded the god softly, lowering his volume immensely. “Come on Hestia, he is on the ground! We can win this!”
Hoping to make the god stop his rambling, Hestia listened. She slowed her breathing and filled her thoughts full of the man she had known for years.
“Are you thinking?” The god asked.
Hestia let out a sobbing chuckle. “Yes, I imagine him in my mind.”
“Describe him,” asked the god in a soft voice, a mellow voice. “Focus on why you are here… and get yourself off the ground. And relax.”
Hestia groaned, grabbing the corners of her dress and gripping hard to help her avoid touching her chest injury.
And she forced herself to remember.
Memory after memory began to jumble in her mind. The memories ranged from 10 years ago, to a few days ago. Warm memories, sad memories, horrible memories, terrifying memories, hopeful memories. Her mind did not discriminate.
She remembered them all.
Her mind first rolled to the first time he stepped in her house. The walls were made of old wood, peeling from the years of mold and water damage. Her home itself smelt fine, as she had spent hours cleaning, as there wasn’t much else to do there but smith swords and other tools.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
“This is your house?” Wally had asked, dropping his bag of questionably few belongings on the floor by the door.
“Yes,” I had answered. “I know it’s small and a bit run down, but these walls have seen my entire life. From infancy to now.”
“It must be very special to you. Thank you for trusting an odd man like me to stand between these walls,” Wally said, his voice as sweet as sugar, and as charming as I would know him to be years on.
I remembered my face blushing at that. “It’s just a house, please don’t think of it as any more than that.”
“A house much loved,” Wally corrected. “It’s not just a house, from how you speak of it so warmly.”
“Right…” I said, slightly embarrassed but warm. “Can you sleep on the floor, I only have one mattress and I do not currently have the money to buy another.”
“I have slept in worse places, so worry not please,” joked Wally. He placed a hand on my shoulder, gave a slight grip, and walked further in. “I will make do.”
“I’m sorry for having nothing else to accommodate you.”
This time, Wally looked me straight into my eyes.
Green-Hazel eyes.
“Your welcome itself is something most would never do. Please Hestia, any more than this then I would start intruding upon you. Thank you, you’ve done plenty already for me. Do not fret.” Wally had said.
And for the first time in a long while, I had felt warm and happy in the presence of another.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
And from there, the memories began to consolidate, and mix, but were still vivid in her mind.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Now I was 21.
Wally watched her heat a piece of iron in a large fire. Turning the blade and pressing on it with her hammer every few minutes. He sat on the floor cutting vegetables for the evening chutney. He pressed the sharp edge of his knife against the white of the coconut, twisting it to push the flesh out and onto the cutting board. At least that was what he had been doing before.
I had noticed his gaze settle on me for an abnormal amount of time, and decided to address him.
“Something wrong?” I asked. I looked at him for a second, not even realizing my hand had dipped too far into the flames. I found out that fact in an undignified way.
I screamed, my hand hot and slightly charred. Somewhere and somehow my glove must’ve fallen off, as I saw it laying on the floor by my work boots.
Wally was off his feet and at her side in seconds. He grabbed the cold water bucket she had kept near her in case of an emergency, and then grabbed her wrist, above her burn.
He dipped her hand into the bucket, as she seethed. The cold water against her skin slightly lessened the pain. She flexed her fingers, allowing the water to flow through the spaces between them.
“Tha-Thank you,” I gasped out. Wally pulled me away from the fire and sat me on the floor, placing the pale in between my legs, my hand still inside it. He then rolled up his sleeves and rubbed my hand with his own, massaging the burn.
“That,” he said amused, “was a silly action.”
I laughed back, the shock from the burn having finally worn off. “Yeah, I suppose not paying attention while playing with fire was a bad idea. Thank you for your help Wally.”
The man smiled while not moving his eyes from his task, his fingers still skimming over my hands gently. “You are very welcome dear.”
He hummed a song under his breath, a song flitting between high and low notes. The sound began from the deepest pit of his throat at the low notes, and closer to the top during the higher notes. It created a sort of background noise for me, who had nothing more to do than sit still as he continued his ministrations on her burns.
“Can I ask something?” Wally spoke up softly, as soon as the words finished coming out of his mouth, he continued humming his little song.
He whistled like a songbird in the morning hue. Hestia found herself humming in sync with him.
“What is it?” she asked absentmindedly.
“Where did you learn all this?” he asked.
Hestia frowned. “Learn what?”
“The blacksmithing,” he specified. “I have never seen many women take up this sort of occupation. I have seen women married to one, but their job mostly consisted of carrying things back and forth for their husbands. The man himself was usually the one who did all the metal shaping. Where did you learn this art?”
“My parents,” I said. I took my hand out of the water, and ran my wet hand through my hair. Drying it while simultaneously smoothening out my hair which had come loose during my work. I reached up with my other hand until I had almost reached the tip of the strands.
Holding the hair tight with one hand, I used the other to pull a band from my wrist, and tied it.
“My parents were blacksmiths themselves,” I continued.
“And they taught you?” Wally asked.
“Yes, they taught me blacksmithing. I was their only child, the only person who could carry on their art. It would make sense for me to learn at least some of the basics They taught me, and now that I am here I am thankful they did. I think I would have starved to death if they hadn’t.” My hands rested on my lap, a wave of sadness washed over me. Wally regarded me with warm eyes, before asking the question that he had truly been wondering.
“Where are they?” he asked softly. He placed his hand over mine in a friendly gesture.
I remember slowing in my movements a bit, raising my hand to twirl my braid. I had tried not to meet his eyes. Not wanting his worry or his pity.
“The early days of the famine were particularly brutal around here. It was too much for them,” I said.
Wally was silent, as he took the bucket of water outside and emptied. A few minutes passed until he returned, the bucket sloshing with fresh water from the river. He placed it by my feet, then bent down to pick up my gloves from where they had fallen to on the ground.
He placed one on his shoulder and motioned for my hand. I extended my hand out to him, where he gently slid the glove onto it, pinching at my fingers to make sure they were tight on me.
He did the same for the second glove, ensuring they were as tight as can be.
When he was done, he stepped back to admire his own handwork.
“Well,” he said, turning to look me in the eyes. “For what it’s worth, I’m sure they’re looking up at you proudly from wherever they are.”
I could simply not contain the smile breaking out across my face.
~-~-~-~-~-~-~
“Why are you here Hestia? Answer that question” asked the god inside her.
“I-I’ve been asking for it.” she huffed out.
“And have you remembered your answer?”
Hestia paused, before she nodded slowly.
“Then let us finish this match. Get up, and put my brother onto his knees.”
Using her sword as a stand, she pushed herself to her knee, and then to her feet. Her balance wobbled as her feet shook, her midriff still in agonizing pain, and her vision blurred.
She shook her head, and took deep breaths trying to null the pain.
Animus was still on the ground, how he was still on the ground was a thing of much wonder to Hestia. But if the gods were giving her a gift to help her against one of their own, who was she to question them?
“Am I in your control?” she asked, her breathing raspy. Hestia wiped a drop of blood which had been dripping down her face.
She felt her leg move forward, her foot pointed forward parallel with the rest of her leg instead of the usual perpendicular. Her fingers were flexed around the hilt of the sword.
“You are,” the god answered.
“Ok,” huffed Hestia. And like all the times the god had done before, her body got into a fighting position.
Animus had taken notice of her back on her feet, choosing that moment to rise to his feet. He spread his hands, his legs pressed together. He groaned with a smirk on his face, his eyes cold and hard as he pointed his sword at Hestia. Still wobbly on his feet.
“Not bad,” he conceded. He wiped his brow free of sweat. “But I’m still standing unfortunately for you.”
She could hear the god laugh from inside her. Animus heard nothing of his brother’s scoff.
Swords clashed. Metal on metal, blade on blade. Hestia hadn’t even noticed her legs moving and her arm being thrown back. She only saw herself face to face with her opponent, his breath hot on her cheek.
They jumped back away from each other at the same time, their feet slid against the floor creating the friction needed to halt them to a stop.
Despite the power behind his thrust, and the length of distance she was pushed back, Hestia took notice of something.
“He’s slowing down,” said the god inside her, mirroring her thoughts. “Your kicks must hold some power to them don’t they my lady?”
And he was right, they both were. Whether it was from the kick (surprisingly the only slightly plausible explanation) or because Animus’s exhaustion was getting to him (much less plausible), Animus’s power seemed to have been halved. His thrusts were lacking the power they had before Hestia’s kick to his crotch.
Suddenly, the god inside her was able to match his power. The god managing a foreign body, arms that never were his, and legs he had hardly ever walked in, was able to fight against a god that had been fighting in his body for millennia upon millennia.
Hestia felt a surge of confidence dance through her body, from her toes to the tips of her fingers. Her confidence spilled from her lips.
“You’re slowing down,” she said, her lips curled up as her adrenaline surged. She shifted her feet, getting into a more comfortable position.
Animus grunted, his smirk wavering in his discomfort. As much as he tried to keep his facade up, Hestia could see the way his thighs shook, closing over his crotch rather than stretching out how swordfighting requires.
“I’m not down yet,” he said, he spread his arms out as a haughty gesture. It failed to reach his eyes. Noticing this, Hestia’s own smirk grew just a little wider.
“Not yet,” she enunciated, aiming to ire the god. But instead of a scowl and eyes so wide that blood vessels began to show, she was met with a smile and eyes so sparkly that they shined. The god of hate, dare she say it, looked impressed.
“Your tongue holds many lashes, woman,” he mocked, taking a more eloquent tone as he looked down upon her. “But can you put your words into action?”
Part of Hestia wanted to outright say yes, yes I can but the other part of her head hushed her. The god, instead, decided to do the answering for her. He took the chance to charge forward, the tip of the blade pointed right at Animus’s rib cage.
Hestia jumped. Animus grinned like a madman, finding glory in possible impalement. He did not swerve to block until the last second, until her body was right on top of him. And when she was, he lazily flung up and to the side one arm down at his side, his body as still as stone.
Hestia’s body came down on him hard, putting one hand on the side of the blade and one on the hilt, the god’s own strength along with gravity pushing the blade down against Animus’s own.
But it still was not enough, the god of hate still proudly remained steadfast and strong on his feet. Despite the agony near his thighs, he did not allow himself to be rendered completely useless in battle. And so he pushed up.
Having nowhere else to go, Hestia fell upon his chest, the god allowing the heels of her feet to grind and scratch against Animus.
In reaction, Animus only seethed. His eyes and mouth narrowed, as he pushed her off him, and swung for her head. The god helped Hestia dodge, ducking her in the nick of time saving her from decapitation.
The two traded blow after blow. A slash to Animus’s chest, he blocks it. Another to his shin,this time he fails to block. He releases a sigh as he throws himself forward, aiming his sword to her sides. It hits.
She screamed internally, to which the god keeps reminding her to not let him lose control.
“Keep your wits about you Hestia,” he warned her.
“I know,” she pushed out through grunts of pain. “But why are you not finishing this match up? We have the upper hand.”
“You cannot rush victory fool,” admonished the god, scoffing at her statement. “Victory against my brother takes time.”
“But all the two of you have been doing is trading blows back to back. Nothing else, we haven’t gained so much as an inch on him despite him being downtrodden by his injury.” Hestia’s body sidestepped, dodging Animus’s blade thrust.
“Having the upperhand doesn’t mean we can get foolish,” the god reiterated.
“We cannot keep this game up, it’s just dodging, hitting his sword, dodging, and colliding with each other. We need to try something new,” Hestia argued back. The next sentence she lowered her volume at, making sure Animus was a ways away before speaking. “And I am getting to my limit, I cannot keep at this for much longer.”
“Yes, you can. Just a few more hours you’ll be fine.” said the god.
Spoken like a true immortal. Hestia laughed internally, before realizing with horror the implications of his words.
He would make her fight for far longer than her body could take. Her body would collapse in of itself, something this god foolishly denies. She would die from her own exhaustion rather than her blood spilling from Animus’s sword.
She needed to end this fight soon, and by soon she meant now. Her arms were already shaking, her legs burning as her muscles were pushed further than the capabilities of the average human.
The god of Hate swerved on his feet, spinning his blade in a 180 degree circle in an attempt to hit her. The god raised Hestia’s sword up to parry it away.
Animus stretched his legs a bit wider, suddenly flinching. And it was then, that an idea struck Hestia like a bolt of lightning in a thunderstorm.
In the seconds after she had the spark, the plan began to unwind in her mind. Ideas moving around like chess pieces on a board, action and then reaction, action and then reaction, until she deemed she would get her desired outcome.
The god inside her sent a jab Animus’s way, he easily jumped to dodge.
And suddenly there was a roadblock in her plan, in the form of the immortal man currently in control of her body.
There would be no way he would agree to this idea, it was far too unbecoming of a god of his stature. A god kicked out of his home and deemed unworthy of his name and powers yes, but he was still a god. A god who she knew regarded her as a mortal far below him in everything, having only taken her along him to the underworld because he had no other choice.
He would laugh at her idea, asking her how a mortal’s idea could prove successful? And even if he accepted her preposition, she feared he would deviate from her idea, ruining it all together.
No, she had to be the one to do it. Her and only her.
And there was only one way she could possibly guarantee that.
This time, when Animus raised his sword over his head to strike her, it was not the god that moved her, but herself.
They did not move in sync, the god tried to move sideways while she tried to move backwards, leading to a jumble of legs that did not know which way to truly go. But Hestia had commanded these feet for 27 years compared to the god’s couple hours. In the end, her legs stepped left, back,left, back, but eventually gave into backwards.
Animus’s sword grazed her wrist, leaving an ooze of blood in its wake. Yet it was nothing compared to the wound he had given her not even 15 minutes ago.
If she could run and jump despite having sustained that level of injury, she knew that she sure as hell could take this one.
She would survive.
But she wasn’t sure she could survive the god in her head.
“What were you doing?!?!?!” he screamed, his words bounded off every corner of her mind. She prayed he would come to his senses and realize that screaming and yelling would give her a headache, something they could not afford right now. She of course knew her wishes were futile, a god like him was relentless in everything he did. Including his anger.
“Let me take the reins this time. You act as my backup.” she blankly stated. She brought her slightly bleeding wrist to her face, skimming to cut against her lips, smelling the metallicness of her blood and the foul stench of her sweat. It was a simple action indeed, but one which went against the god’s wishes.
This small act of defiance infuriated him.
“Let you take the reins?!” the god asked in disbelief. “My brother has hit you many in places, yes I cannot deny, but never once has he yet hit you on the head. Let you take the reins… I take back what I said before. You are a stupid woman.”
The god spoke his last sentence brutally, his anger edging into his voice, before taking over whatever feelings of surprise he had had in him.
Hestia pushed her feet to backpedal away from Animus, who had been staring at her weirdly, far enough to not hear what she was speaking, but close enough to see the up and down movements of her lips. Allowing him to understand that she was speaking to his brother.
Upon this realization, he grinned.
“Scheming over there?” he asked, he was covered in sweat like she was, but his breathing was much slower and smoother than hers were. “Or perhaps arguing? It seems my lady, you have a tongue full of lashings, not just towards me.”
He laughed at his own joke.
“I have a plan,” she choked out, the god was not making it easy to regain control of her body. He was fighting her every step of the way.
“You?” the god laughed, “You, a mortal, have a plan worthy of success?”
The god laughed at his own joke.
Hestia couldn’t help but laugh along, except for very different reasons.
- She had guessed his superiority complex perfectly.
- He was as crazy as his brother. Finding humor in the most bland of jokes.
“Please keep talking,” Animus sarcastically said, pointing at her palm up. “We have nothing important to do at the moment.”
Hestia ignored him, turning her attention to the current problem swimming around in her head.
“If you do not give me complete control of my body, of my movements, I will continue to fight against you mid-battle. You will not have full control over me leading to hazardous moves.”
The threat oozed from Hestia’s mouth like poison, dripping slowly and steadily. Small, but enough to scare a man out of his wits.
Instead of fear in this case, the god was filled with a numbing rage. He had gone silent in her head, he was no longer screamed profanities as he was before. Silence, Hestia decided, was far scarier than his fury.
“Are you trying to get us to lose?” The gof growled. “Have you already given up on saving your friend out of pure spite of me?!”
“No,” Hestia said. “It’s just that I do not think you can do my plan properly.”
The god laughed an ugly laugh. “By all means woman, if you think you can actually pull it off then do it. But hear me, hear me once. If this does not work out I will kill you myself before my brother’s sword can even penetrate your skin.”
Hestia did not doubt his words for even a second.
“Then let me prove you wrong,” She said with more confidence than she felt.
“I hope you do. More for my sake rather than yours.”
“Act as my support.” She ordered, she stood up a little more strongly.
“As you say madam,” he said scathingly.
Hestia began to make her way over to Animus, who had taken to sitting on the ground, watching her from the distance. He saw her coming over but did not get up until she was only a few meters away from him.
He pushed himself up, jumping onto his feet, before bouncing up and down to what Hestia presumed was to get his blood flowing again.
He winced and closed his legs.
“Ready to recommence?” he asked, he spit onto the floor besides his feet. Hestia scrunched her nose in disgust, but shook her head, refocusing her mind on the task at hand.
“I am,” she said. She got into position.
And just as she expected, Animus was on her before her eyes could even focus in on her. But this time, she was ready for the attack.
And he was not ready to go through with his attack.
Her kick before had turned to be a mighty weapon of power, the god of hate widened his legs, and soreness racked through him. He paused, his eyes flying shut for just a second.
But Hestia had known this would happen, the god inside her realized startled.
Her face which had been impassive before, giving nothing of her thoughts away, had changed. It twisted and molded into a new expression, an expression rare on the young mortal girl. He had seen it in bravado and in fakeness, trying to put on a facade and hoped that it was not seen through.
A silly idea really, neither he nor her brother were stupid. They had seen enemy after enemy give the same face after all, when they were on their knees with nothing else to do but grin in hopes of scaring them.
But now Hestia’s face wore triumph, like it was a feeling that she knew well. A feeling that she had known all her life. Her eyes glistened and her mouth wider than any smile that he had had on his own face. This was a woman whose enemy had fallen straight into her arms, and the god still couldn’t understand how that was.
And it seemed that Animus had seen her expression too. It was like time was moving in slow motion, his eyes widened dramatically with the god watching every millimeter of uprise from within Hestia’s peripheral vision.
He quickly tried to regather himself, seething through his pain as he widened his already widened stance. He stopped the trajectory of his sword and switched it to stop her sword which was descending upon him from above her head.
And come down it did.
Until it clatter on the floor.
Animus and the god’s eyes sputtered open simultaneously in shock and confusion. The foolish girl had dropped her sword, the god thought, his mind spinning trying to find possible answers for this. The fool dropped her sword, while bare centimeters from an enemy far more powerful than she.
His mind was not able to come up with any probable explanation, save for that perhaps she had just chickened out. It was his fault, for having agreed to this plan after all, what possibly could a mortal girl do that he, a god, cannot. The idea was just preposterous and…
His thoughts were grinded to a stop when her now empty hands slapped against the shoulder of the wobbling, unbalanced Animus. Animus’s gaze flew from the sword which had finally gone still at their feet, to her face.
But in the split second he had to turn her head, her nails were ripping into his shoulder blades, drawing out blood from his skin like he had done to her before, in much larger waves of course.
And instead of her sword falling down upon his head like it would have had the god inside her had been in power, her knee flew up.
And just how humanity allows the sins of history to repeat again and again due to them never having tried to learn from them. Animus allowed history to repeat, as her knee, once more, sunk into his crotch.
Except this time her mind was fully focused on this one task, having forced her mind to forget the utter pain from her wound. Her knee went up with more force than before, into an area that was already wounded.
The god inside her had realized this after the first knee hit his brother, the air being forced out of him as he doubled over, falling onto the same knee which had rendered him in that position.
Her knee fell back to the ground, and began to bend ever so slightly in the god’s vision, when he realized she was going for it again.
Quickly, as soon as he realized, he placed some of his own power into her body, allowing her to command it as she willed.
And so the 2nd knee to the crotch was possibly hundreds of hundreds of times more powerful than the first. And so was the third and the fourth… and the fifth.
And Hestia just kept ramming it up into him. She was holding him up, her vice grip on his shoulders much more strong with the god’s cooperation and power on her side. She was holding him up with her body, his chest laying against hers.
After what seemed to be ten or fifteen knees, she shoved him off her. The god of Hate was rendered immobile by a girl from a small hut by the river, as he stumbled backwards, as his hands flew to the newly afflicted place on his body.
The god inside her on the other hand, was stunned into laughter. But this time, Hestia paid him no attention as she flew for the sword which had been dropped earlier before.
A distraction, the god realized, she had cunningly created a distraction to render their minds elsewhere. It was almost as if she had been playing chess, (seemingly) sacrificing her queen to kill him with the pawn. But this was not a game of chess, and the queen was dropped but not quite sacrificed. She had her queen back in her hand, gripping her by her hilt. And ran to the opposing king, still helpless and screaming curses.
As she came upon him, her sword was tilted with the face of the blade to the ground. And she swung with all her might towards his ribcage. The god’s power flows steadily through her veins, allowing her to move faster and hit harder than she would’ve been able to otherwise.
While her kick to crotch when Animus had his fingers in her injury had caused him to stumble between actions, the kicks with this new power had left his body simply failing him.
He could do nothing but watch when the sword scratched his sides, then dug into him, and then began to slice into him.
But only for a few seconds.
Animus raised his own sword, aiming straight for her neck. Hestia’s blade was halfway through his body at this point, and the god panicked.
“STOP!” he cried out in her head. “Get your sword out of him and retreat NOW!”
Hestia knew she had had the upper hand for the past few minutes. But never once did she let it get into her head. She was fighting up against a god, her enemy was no slob, and so she should not be either.
She heeded the gods words quickly, pulling the sword out perpendicular to the way it had come from, pulling it towards her body, as she jumped backwards away from Animus’s own sword.
It shattered the rock when it hit the ground.
Animus raised his head up, looking at the ground where his sword had landed. His hand grazed against his new wound, blooding spurted out. Much more blood fell from him than from Hestia’s stomach and chest. She had cut him halfway, had she done another half than his top half would have slid right off his body.
But had she tried to cut the second half, Animus’s sword would have cut her head off before she could finish. She knew this, and so did the god, hence his warning.
“Continue what you were doing,” the god inside her encouraged, for the very first time. “It will take him a while to regenerate, you have the upperhand. An injury like that won’t kill him, even if you cut his body from his legs… but it would surely disable him.”
But instead of heeding his words, Hestia laughed in exhaustion. “I had done my plan, that was all I had planned unfortunately. Now I just force him to surrender.”
The god hummed, watching his brother stagger around, trying to get to Hestia himself but unable to do so with half his body quite literally detached.
“Then,” the god said. Confidence had finally returned to his voice. “Allow me to continue being your reins. Finish what you started, dear.”
She knew Animus didn’t have long, he was stumbling around, with no aim in his mind, himself knowing defeat was inevitable.
And for the final time, Hestia charged in.
Animus swung his sword wildly. His formerly arrogant expression has been replaced by a look of struggle and panic. For the first time, the god was truly unsteady on his feet.
Hestia swung brutally, at this point Hestia wasn’t even sure if it was the god in complete control. Every twist of her wrist, step of her feet, and swerve of her waist just seemed right. Before she had gained the upper hand, the god had been in complete control. Everything about her own body seemed so foreign, but then again that’s perhaps what it’s like when someone else is in control of you and you merely feel what they do.
Now it felt like god and woman were working together. That they somehow had become one in Hestia’s body. Her limbs no longer belong solely to her or him, but both. She flung herself around, moving her body in ways that felt right, and he gave her the power behind every thrust and kick.
Whatever it was… it was working. They had successfully pushed the God of Hate himself into a corner.
Animus’s back was to the castle pillars. He was bleeding profusely from his arms, torso, and face. He took a defensive stance, awfully similar to what Hestia had been doing in the first half of the fight.
His sword was in both hands, in front of him, it was held sideways. His feet were wide, to help him keep his balance.
But Hestia noticed with a smile that his legs were shaking from his injuries. Hestia put his left hand palm on the very edge of the sword’s hilt, with her right clenching the grip tightly as she pushed it straight into his chest.
The now weakened god used his left foot to push him out of the way. He managed to avoid a devastating blow, but fell to the ground unceremoniously. His sword cluttered out of his hands.
“Take your chance now! Come on now! We can do this!” It seemed the god himself noticed that the fight wasn’t just him suddenly.
Hestia nodded briskly to the voice in her head. She pivoted her feet and faced Animus who was still on the ground. Animus’s eyes widened as he scooted backwards on his bottom. He kept looking behind him, to where his sword had fallen. Hestia noticed this.
She stomped on his foot, Animus howled in pain, and stopped in place.
With her foot still on the God of hate’s, she raised her sword over his head.
Right here, Hestia, end this here.
In the 3 seconds where her sword was free falling onto the god, she noticed a smile appear on his face. She almost missed it. It was just a wisp, but somehow, she caught it.
Animus moved so quickly that his movements created a huge gust of wind. Hestia stopped her sword strike and closed her eyes.
NO NO NO! OPEN YOUR EYES, OPEN THEM DAMNIT! Finish the attack!
But no matter what the brain said, the eyes nor the arms responded. She managed to stand perfectly still as her clothes fluttered violently in the gush of wind.
After a few seconds the wind died down. And she felt something large press against her abdomen. She panicked but was unable to do nothing due to her disorientation from the wind.
“You can open your eyes now dear,” Hestia was stunned by the calm voice of her godly ally.
She listened to his gentle request, and opened her eyes. Her vision went from pitch black, to blurry, to perfect sight.
In front of her, Animus was on one knee, his head down facing the floor. His right hand was pressed to her abdomen firmly.
Hestia noticed that her sword was hardly a centimeter from the top of his head. If he had initiated his weird gust of wind power just a second later, her sword would be embedded in his head.
She gawked at Animus for a few seconds, until he raised his head up to look straight into her eyes. And for the very first time, Hestia could see kindness behind his eyes. She saw no hate ironically, she saw a small white bird that meant her no harm.
“I secede,” he said.
Hestia didn’t answer. She blinked at him.
“I’m sorry?” She sputtered out after a few minutes.
“I secede,” he repeated slowly.
Hestia didn’t respond again. Now Animus looked confused.
“I said that I sece-”
“She heard you the first time brother.”
Hestia shrieked as a hand fell on her head from behind her. She turned around to see the god smiling at her. He looked at her before turning his attention back to Animus.
“Let her comprehend the information you have just told her. It’s not everyday that a god gets down on his knees to surrender to you. It must be quite the shocker.”
Animus chuckled as he pushed himself up from his kneeling position and into a standing position. He wavered a little bit, but managed to get onto both his feet.
“Ah, that is true isn’t it?” He turned to Hestia. “Must seem fake, doesn’t it?”
After a second of blank staring, the god pounded her head.
“Ow!… Uh, oh um… yeah it does seem fair…” she broke off. Animus hummed thoughtfully.
“You seem like you have something else to say.”
“But, you used such a powerful gust attack. Why did you give in so easily? Why did you not use that before? You could’ve definitely defeated me.”
“Well… that’s the thing, I cannot.”
Hestia frowned and looked over her shoulder at the god behind her. He was muffling his laughter. She frowned further and turned back to look at Animus.
“And why is that?”
As if on cue, Animus fell face first toward the duo. Hestia shrieked and sidestepped just as he fell onto her. He promptly hit the floor with a loud thud that made Hestia wince visibly. Animus’s brother did not share the same sentiment as her, which could be seen as the howling laughter emanating from his throat.
“Oh my gods!” Hestia’s hands flew to cover her mouth, “I am so sorry!”
Animus turned his head so that his cheek was now on the rock floor, instead of his face.
“Ah, no worries my lady. But I’m sure this answered your question well enough. Would you like me to explain further as to why I can no longer fight. Or has my face falling been sufficient evidence of my exhaustion?” Animus said with lethargic haughtiness.
Hestia, despite the odd predicament, found herself smiling at the god who had been trying to rip her from the inside out . “Oh no no. It’s good. I am as exhausted as you so I get it!”
“Is that so? I don’t see you falling over in ‘exhaustion’.”
“To be honest with you, I am as unstable on my feet as you,” she pointed to her wobbling legs. “I have no idea as to why I have not fallen over yet.”
“Oh I can answer that,” said the god behind her. Hestia peers over her shoulder and notices the god tightly clutching her shirt. He was holding her in a standing position.
“Oh, well that makes more sense. Thanks.”
The god smiled. “No problem.” He then turned to look at Animus. “Can you and I go talk someplace in private?”
“I’m not sure I can do much ‘going’ brother. I am currently a stationary log.” retorted Animus.
The god snorted into his free hand (much to Hestia’s surprise), and slowly helped Hestia into a sitting position. Her back against one of the many pillars before going to his brother.
He walked over to Animus, and reached down to grab the scruff of his neck. He pulled Animus up, not too roughly. Animus groaned and gave him a dirty look. He dragged his brother on the ground.
“Where is somewhere private we can go?” Asked the god.
“Let’s just go talk near my throne, it doesn’t look like this one will be paying too much attention.” said Animus jabbing a finger to the ghastly looking Hestia. Hestia looked offended.
“Of course I will be listening to whatever you are saying!” yelled Hestia.
“Hmmm, no you won’t. Not from the distance you are sitting at, especially with injuries like yours. You are delirious.” sighed the god tiredly. Animus snorted at her, while still being dragged to the throne by his brother. Hestia shook her head in defeat and leaned backwards. Wincing in pain.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the god place Animus on his throne, still holding him up with one arm. She saw the two converse, but was unable to make out exactly what they were conversing about.
Damn the god and his secretiveness.
Hestia continuously tried to hear what the two were talking about. She watched as the god’s mouth moved. Animus looked a little annoyed, and shook his head slightly. The god himself put his hand on Animus’s shoulder and seemed to be gently pressuring him. She saw Animus freeze before run his hand over his face. He surreptitiously nodded and held his hand out to the god. The god smiled, not with warmth, but saddened pleasure.
The god turned to move away from the unsure looking Animus, and made his way back to Hestia.
“Let’s get you healed, can’t you fight Greed with injuries like these.”
He grabbed Hestia’s hand in his left. He lifted his right, and rested his first two fingers on the side of her shoulder. He then slowly ran the fingers down to the very tip of her own fingers. As his fingers trailed down her arm, the bleeding ceased. The cuts closed themselves.
Unlike the stories, no light emanated from his hand. The only evidence of his healing powers was the closing of her injuries. He repeated the same actions for her other arm, and both legs.
When he was done with that, he placed both palms firmly on her shoulder. The rest of her cuts and stabs on her torso and back disappeared.
“Don’t move yet. Take it easy for a minute. We have got to go soon.” He got up, he brushed the dust off his clothing.
“Already?!”
“Well, we can’t be here forever. We have a job to do…Do you need some healing brother,” he turned to ask Animus.
“No, I think I can heal myself. Thanks though brother,” said Animus. Just like how the god healed Hestia, Animus ran his hand down his arms and legs, and his torso. His scabs and cuts healing as he went.
He exhaled in relief and leaned back into his throne. He threw his head sideways onto his shoulder. He crossed his arms over each other, and dangled his leg on the other.
“See brother, I am not in need of your help.”
The god rolled his eyes at the grand gesture. He then narrowed his eyes at Animus. His annoyed face transformed into a more cold-calculating glare.
“As to what we talked about… you will be…” he began.
“Yes brother. I will see to your request. Do not worry,” groaned Animus. “Just leave and finish your undertaking.”
Animus waved away from the duo. He gave Hestia one last smile, and his brother one last nod. He stood up from his throne quickly and sauntered towards them stiffly. He walked right past them, much to Hestia’s surprise. When he noticed they were not following him, he spun around and began walking backwards. Looking right at them.
“Are you two coming or what? What kind of guest would I be if I didn’t see you off?” He spun back around and began making his way to the entrance. Hestia looked at her ally god, who shrugged and followed suit. Hestia rose to her feet and followed him.
After a not-so-long walk, Hestia saw the large doors she and the god had walked through not long before.
When he was close enough, Animus came to a stop. He pressed both palms against the dark colored material, and pushed forward with a loud grunt. The doors swung open with a speed that Hestia had not expected. They opened widely, giving way to the dark, dank rest of the underworld landscape that Hestia had grown much accustomed to.
“Well, I wish you best of luck on your journey Ms…,” Animus paused, after running the “Ms.” in his mouth for a few good seconds.”
“Oh uh, Hestia,” Hestia quickly offered up.
“Ah, I wish you best of luck Ms. Hestia,” repeated Animus.
Hestia decided to accept the well wishes, and not tell him that Hestia is her first name, not her last. She stiffened up, and gave him an awkward little bow. Animus himself, placed a hand on his chest and returned the bow. He smiled warmly at her the entire time, something that was very different from the cruel, cocky grin that he had given her when he was trying to kill her.
He walked past her to his brother. Animus placed both hands on the god’s shoulders and smiled at him. The god gave a forced smile back, his eyes fluttering over Animus’s shoulder to Hestia, who was trying to hide a smile at his uncomfortableness with his brother.
The awkward smile quickly dropped when Animus pulled him into a hug. For a split second, it seemed that he was trying to push the hands off of him.
Hestia had to hide her snort in her hands.
Animus pulled the god towards him and embraced his brother. He placed his chin on the god’s shoulder, and turned so his mouth was near his ear. The god’s uncomfortable demeanor quickly vanished, as he leaned in to focus…. Hestia guessed that he was whispering something to him.
After a minute, Animus released the god. He slapped the god on his back while shaking his hand.
“Well then, I have kept you here for too long. Ms. Hestia…” Animus whipped around just in time to see Hestia’s eyes tilt up to meet his own.
“Oh, uh, just call me Hestia. No ‘Ms.’ is needed please,” winced Hestia in slight embarrassment.
“If that is what you wish,” smiled Animus. “Hestia, do you know where you are going next?”
Hestia was about to say something, but stopped midway.
“I actually do not know.”
“I can answer that brother,” piped up the god. Animus and Hestia turned to the god, who was rubbing the back of his neck. “We will be going to see Avaricious.”
Who?
“The god of greed my dear. That is who we are going after next.”
Hestia blinked. “How did you know I was thinking that?”
“I did not know you were thinking that.”
“Well how did you perfectly answer my question?”
The god sighed and began to walk past her, outside the castle. “You make a certain face when you get confused. Your eyes get blank and the right tip of your mouth curls up into a half-smile. As you pretend to know what is being said… we will take your leave brother.”
“Safe travels De-… I mean brother,” quickly corrected Animus. Hestia did not miss the slight movement in his eyes, when they fell on her for half a second, before returning back to the god.
“Yes, we will take care. You take care of yourself, Animus.”
“Yes, I will make sure none of my souls will bother you or little Miss over, any longer.”
The god of hate himself smiled, as he gave them his warmest farewells, as his brother and his human companion made their way out of his realm.
He walked back inside his castle long after they had vanished from his sight. He walked inside with so much to think about, and so much to do, and with many well wishes of success to the people he knew he would see very soon again.
<–The Reviver’s Passage: Chapter XI The Reviver’s Passage: Chapter XIII–>
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