The Titan's Grave

As they drew near their destination, Alexander grew antsy. He searched the rock clusters for a sign of Ferazia’s party.

“We should have run into their lookout by now.” The desert was barren, and it had transformed into much rockier terrain. It made it hard to see, but Aerin scanned across the horizon unhindered. He also seemed concerned.

“I can’t see them.”

“Shit,” Alexander cursed. “Come on. Move faster.”

They arrived at the crest of a large amphitheater carved into the rock. Massive boulders of angled oceanic stone arched around a central stage. They carefully made their way down the steps and to the arena.

The flattened ground at the center bore a set of hefty iron chains. The manacles were cracked open and twisted into unrecognizable lumps of metal. They held no titan.

“We were too late.” Aerin was horrified. “Athens--” he whirled around to squint in the direction of the city. Aerin grimaced as debilitating pain shot through his head, trying his best to see through miles of rock and sand. Asteria felt a sudden pressure and ducked behind a rock, heart racing.

“Now, now,” a heavy hand clapped down on Aerin’s shoulder. “No need to panic yet. I prefer an honorable war.” The party froze, panic racing through them. Alexander whipped out his khopesh without hesitation and pointed it at the titan’s throat.

Pallas’s deep laugh boomed out. He stepped back easily, lips twisted into a taunting smirk. Pallas brushed a hand over his stubble as he regarded the group.

He stood nearly seven feet tall, bulging with toned muscles built for battle. Overgrown brown hair fell over his rugged face, but did not conceal the glimmer of orange and gold eyes with horizontal pupils. Over his armor, he wore a ragged blue chlamys with a white fleece flung on top. Under one arm, he carried a dark silver Corinthian helmet adorned with curling ram's horns.

“They only sent three children after me?” He laughed. Asteria peeked over the boulder. He hadn’t noticed her or recognized Rhei, probably still rusty after being chained up for thousands of years. “I suppose Your Lady miscalculated when I would be set free.” He shook his head, eyes gleaming with hatred for Athena. “Ah, well, it can be excused for her. She has a lot on her mind,” he laughed cruelly. “Now,” his sharp eyes scanned the group. “Who wants to be the messenger owl?”

“We’ll all be going back alive,” Alexander responded thinly, tensing himself for battle. Pallas chuckled. In the next instant, he was gone, moving with the force of a meteor as he slammed into Alexander. The pink-haired soldier didn’t even have time to react before he was pinned to the ground, a spear brandished at his throat. The other three tensed.

“I am the titan of battle and warcraft! Surely you don’t believe you can beat me?” If Pallas had wanted to kill him, he would be dead by now. Alexander stared at the spear. His jaw clenched.

“That’s Kostas’s spear.”

“Hmm?” The titan cocked his head. “Oh, this thing?” He stepped back and twirled it. It looked small against his giant form. “It’s a paltry excuse for a spear, but I don’t have my pallô, so it will have to do.” He grinned lazily. “Your friends are dead, of course, if you hadn’t realized. So, I’ll ask again: which one of you wants to live as my messenger bird?”

Alexander gritted his teeth. “And I said,” he flipped himself up into a standing position, kicking the spear out of Pallas’s grip. “We’re all going back alive.”

Alexander lunged forward, bringing his khopesh down like an axe. “Aerin, get out of here.” Aerin didn’t hesitate, knowing he’d be a liability in this fight. Pallas tsked and ducked out of the way of Alexander’s brutal swings, right into the path of Rhei's xiphos. In an instant, Pallas had dropped the helmet from the crook of his elbow into his hand. He used it to block Rhei’s sword, and as he staggered from the misdirect, Pallas slammed the helmet into Rhei’s temple.

Rhei staggered and struggled to his feet, swaying dizzily. He shook himself, sand sprinkling down, and

“You have no right to be so dismissive of their deaths!” Alexander yelled.

Pallas scoffed. “This is war, child. Death has no meaning until your enemies are crushed.” He reached for the spear. White flowers bloomed from a deadened stalk near where it had fallen. They spread rapidly until a thicket of the flowers buried the weapon. They were sea daffodils, with an inner, trumpet-like cone surrounded by six spiky white petals.

Pallas hesitated, surprised by their appearance, but quickly realized they were just normal flowers. He brushed them aside, uncaring as the long stalks snapped, and snatched up the polearm just in time to parry Rhei’s attack and force him further back.

Alexander came swinging around; he chopped down with his blade. Pallas parried, and Alexander swung against its other side. He whipped around and allowed the curved edge of his scythe-like sword to catch against the pole of the spear. He yanked, attempting to disarm Pallas again, but the titan hung tightly to the blade, and Alexander’s khopesh slipped backwards to its head.

The spear snapped at the head. Pallas clicked his tongue and discarded it to the side. He casually dodged as Rhei swung from the side, and pulled out a sword, likely also pilfered from one of the deceased soldiers.

Pallas, Rhei, and Alexander engaged in a battle of swinging blades that flashed under the bright light of the desert sun. Every time Pallas turned to face Rhei, Asteria’s heart thudded, wondering if this was the moment that he would recognize his brother reborn. Pallas yawned as he fought both back at once, lazily glancing to the sky as he managed to simultaneously parry both boys. Rhei wasn’t even able to get close enough to consider using his destructive powers.

“Come now, children,” he taunted. “I am a god of battle; you have no hope of winning this fight. I will kill you, and then I will find the little coward you sent away. He can carry my message to Athena.”

Pallas grinned sharply at the concern flashing across Alexander’s face as he bore down with his khopesh once again. “Though I cannot say that he will make it home with all his limbs attached! Certainly, I will let him know of the way you two tried in vain to fight me.” Pallas mocked Alexander.

Suddenly, he was moving with purpose, sword speeding through the air with a loud whoosh as it beat down against the two soldiers. They immediately began to lose ground. Alexander desperately brushed his hands against the sand, but Pallas merely laughed as he crushed the small flowers that sprouted up underfoot.

“You are nothing against a titan, pitiful mortal!” Pallas crowed. “If you give up now, perhaps I will leave a body for your friend to take back to your loved ones!”

Alexander lifted his gaze, desperately searching the desert for ideas. Asteria steeled herself. She wasn’t strong enough to defeat Pallas yet. Too much of her power was still blocked behind the seal, cracked though it may be. Even so, Asteria felt ashamed of herself. She was not the type to cower from a fight, not anymore.

She crouched to draw tension into her limbs, and sprang into battle when Pallas was turned. She bore a hand against the back of her dagger and took her best shot at temporarily incapacitating the titan, thrusting the dagger toward his midsection. It had only just brushed against the edge of the leather outer armor before the titan had teleported away.

“Ahahah!” He boomed. “So there was a fourth child, this one even smaller than the others. She lunged at him, and he easily swatted her away. “Not that it changes anything. You should have run while you had the chance.”

She tumbled to the ground, rolling back into action immediately and springing toward the titan down low enough that she would be awkward to reach without a longer weapon than the stolen sword. Pallas' eyes widened at the strange technique and the speed at which she moved. She was just a blur as she slashed his knees, one of her daggers in each hand, and he stumbled, ichor spilling into the desert.

As he stumbled, Rhei and Alexander came in in unison, xiphos and khopesh flashing. Pallas ground his teeth. He blocked Alexander with his sword and used his horned helmet to headbutt Rhei.

With the second major jolt to Rhei’s head, he stumbled backward and fell over. He didn’t get up immediately. Pallas grinned, satisfied, and turned back to Alexander and Asteria.

“I will enjoy crushing you three mortals.” Pallas stretched his arms wide, bearing his strength and lack of injuries to them. “My wounds have already healed, and yours will only grow worse!” The cuts on his legs had already stopped bleeding ichor. A second sword shimmered into existence in his free hand.

Asteria did have a last-ditch option, but she was hesitant to use it. Pallas’s blade landed a slice down the length of her arm, and she felt it go numb and drop as the tendons near her elbow were severed. It occurred to Asteria that as weak as she currently was, she did not currently have the choice to hold back any of her strength.

She reached inside to her weakly flickering magic core, trying to split her focus between defending against Pallas and carefully coaxing her mageia out. She allowed it to flow through her limbs, heightening her healing and easing some of the aches and fatigue that had built up over the course of the battle. More importantly, she guided the flow of mageia down the length of her good arm. She felt it spark against the hilt of her makhaira, and she willed it even further.

Pure white flames surged to life along the length of her blade, sparks of pure energy flickering off it. Asteria grinned. They were difficult to see under the bright sunlight, but they were there, and Asteria’s starfire was a hell of a weapon.

Renewed from the mageia now flowing steadily throughout her body, even if at a lower concentration than she would have preferred. Asteria dedicated herself back to the battle. She felt light as air, whipping around Pallas, whose massive bulk now made him seem so slow where he had seemed fast before. A delighted laugh escaped her. She felt more like her godly self in that moment than she had in the weeks since she’d been reborn.

Pallas stumbled back, confused, as he struggled to match the speed of her attacks. If she had access to both limbs still, she was sure that she could at least disarm him. As it was, with Alexander fighting at her side, they managed to make ground. Asteria managed to twist her blade along the length of his knife quickly enough to get in close and aim a slash against his hand. It cut deep, exposing gold and ichor-infused flesh, but Pallas barely reacted, just shoving Asteria off. Then her starfire was spreading, and in a burst of light it blazed outward, stuttered in intensity, collapsed, then imploded.

Pallas gasped involuntarily at the sudden intense pain that shuddered through his hand and rendered his nerves temporarily numb. He recoiled backward, putting distance between them for the first time. He examined his hand, and the small remnants of sparking white fire flickered out before they died with widened, curious eyes. His gold gaze drifted back toward Asteria, and he tilted his head.

“That’s a curious power you’ve got there. Reminds me of someone.” His voice was strained, despite the affected pleasant expression he wore on his face. Asteria grimaced and tugged her himation lower. Her hair color was different, and she looked younger, but otherwise she, just like Rhei, had the same face as her last life. She didn’t know what Kronos’s allies would do to her, but she did not want to risk being recognized.

Pallas smirked. “I suppose I can take this seriously.” He slung the fleece and chlamys to the ground. Asteria and Alexander worked together as best they could, but their fighting styles didn’t mesh, and Alexander clearly did not trust her to watch his back. Pallas countered each attack with ease, contorting to block simultaneous blows and attacking with much greater force than either Alexander or Asteria were capable of. Behind them, Rhei stirred a little, and Asteria wondered if holding out long enough for Rhei to rejoin the fight would even benefit them at all.