"Come to die?" I asked, finding no other reason for his return.
"Our rematch can wait. I came to apologize," Heracles said. His words nearly made my eyes pop from their sockets.
"Well, sorry for what I said and for acting so rashly. I shouldn't have behaved that way."
I was at a loss for words.
"Losing to you opened my eyes. I wasn't truly strong. After completing five labors, I thought myself invincible above men and even the gods. But you made me see the truth.
I've heard you're heading to the Garden of the Hesperides, to find the golden apple and craft a cure. I want to help you with that," he said.
"I'll manage. I'd rather go alone," I replied, grabbing my sack of food.
"It's more fun with company! And if anyone gets in our way, we'll crush them together!" he said, clapping a fist into his palm.
"Of all the companions I could choose, you'd be the last," I said coldly.
"Come on! I apologized!" Heracles cried out. "Philoctetes, I did exactly what you told me to!"
"You idiot! You're blowing my cover!" someone growled, leaping out of the bushes.
From the greenery burst a satyr, delivering a sharp smack to the back of Heracles' head. I froze, stunned by the absurdity of the scene. No I was definitely not traveling with them.
Before me stood a true satyr: a bow slung across his back, a short dagger at his belt. His lower half was goat-like, his upper half human save for the curved horns jutting from his head.
[image]
"I told you not to fight him back then!" the satyr muttered, shaking his head, hands clasped behind his back.
"So what do we do now?" Heracles asked, looking dejected.
I walked away in silence. The farther, the better anything to escape their bickering. The last thing I needed was a muscle-bound oaf and a flute-playing goat-man as travel companions.
But my prayers went unanswered behind me came the sound of hooves and heavy footsteps.
"Wait! Your name is Damocles, right? Let us come with you! We'll make a great team! I can play the flute!" the satyr cried out, immediately launching into a few cheerful notes.
"He's the one I want to kill most," I muttered without turning around. "And you're too loud."
I quickened my pace, hoping to leave this farce behind.
"I can cook delicious meals! Tell him, Heracles!" Philoctetes went on.
"It's true. I eat every last crumb," Heracles replied.
"You'd eat the pot too, you brute! I meant the taste!" the satyr grumbled. Then he darted ahead of me and blocked my path, arms outstretched. "Wait! Let's put misunderstandings aside and get to the point. We want to help. We're headed to the Garden of the Hesperides anyway. I know everything about it where it is, what grows there, what dangers await. You'll need us. Especially me Heracles is just the backup. Furniture, really."
"Philoctetes," Heracles muttered. Evidently, he didn't consider himself furniture.
"No," I said without hesitation, stepping around the satyr.
I didn't want to waste time. If Heracles and I clashed again, who knew how long the fight would last? I had to find the fruit, return, and heal everyone. And then save Diana though perhaps that wasn't even her name. I had only one other that fit: Demeter. Does it change anything for me? Likely not.
When I boarded the ship, Androcles was already there with several men preparing it for departure.
"Are they coming with us?" Androcles asked, nodding toward Heracles and Philoctetes, who were still chatting nearby.
"No," I replied curtly.
"Where are we headed this time?" he asked.
"No one knows the exact location. We'll have to search," I said.
I recalled everything I knew. The general region should be somewhere near Olympus. A large island teeming with all manner of plants Hera's personal garden, if the legends were true. That's where the Tree of Life or at least a part of it was said to grow.
"I know the exact location," Philoctetes said as he stepped aboard.
"A satyr?" Androcles asked doubtfully.
"Not just a satyr. I am the legendary Philoctetes," he said, puffing out his chest with pride though it failed to impress anyone on deck. That slightly dampened his enthusiasm.
"Ahem. I once bested Odysseus in an archery contest."
"Never heard of that," Androcles replied, clearly skeptical.
"If you truly want to save lives, tell us where this garden is," I said, not wanting to waste any more time.
"It all began when I was just a youth and made a deci" Philoctetes started.
"Get to the point. Be specific," I cut him off, killing his bravado.
"Ahem. You people are terrible listeners," Philoctetes grumbled, twitching one ear in offense.
"We head into the Mediterranean. Once night falls, a star will show us the way."
"Of course. And without you, we'd never know which one," I replied dryly.
He gave me a confident nod. That was the moment I realized I'd likely regret bringing him along.
******************************
I did, in fact, deeply regret bringing them. I should've tossed them overboard and wandered the seas alone.
Once we were out at sea, Philoctetes's endless tales and incessant flute-playing began to drive me insane. That's why he now sat with a swollen cheek courtesy of my fist. Words hadn't worked. Only one method had.
Their company was a true test of my patience.
The only consolation Philoctetes hadn't lied. We made it to the island that housed the Garden of the Hesperides. The journey took three days, avoiding Spartan shores the entire way. During my absence, the polis had grown, and its navy now controlled vast stretches of water.
"Gera... gherra's gonna be mad," Philoctetes mumbled, still slurring from the swelling.
"She doesn't like us anyway. It'll be fun to annoy her again," Heracles grinned, leaping ashore.
"Careful... nimfs an' Ladon dwagon wiv here," Philoctetes warned through his puffed cheek.
Before us lay the garden magnificent, as if woven from dreams. A narrow path paved with pale stone led deeper within. Trees with perfect emerald leaves lined both sides, flowers bloomed in every color of the rainbow, and crystal-clear waterfalls shimmered in the breaking dawn.
Even in the early twilight, the beauty of the place was undeniable.
[image]
"You'd better stay on the ship and wait for our return. We may need to leave quickly," I told Androcles.
"Understood," he replied simply.
The three of us ventured into the garden. It was unnaturally quiet. I felt eyes watching us as if the trees themselves were observing every step. Most likely the nymphs. There had to be many of them here.
We reached the heart of the garden a towering tree, stretching hundreds of meters into the sky. And there, at its roots, we saw him.
Ladon.
The dragon lay coiled, almost blending with the roots. His body was covered in armor-like scales. Multiple heads writhed in light sleep. He resembled a hydra, but the similarity ended with the number of heads. Unlike the hydra, Ladon couldn't regrow his and each of his heads held a different magical element: one breathed fire, another ice, then water, lightning, and so on.
[image]
Ladon was born of monsters and the blood of titans. In truth, he had become one of them. His purpose since birth was to guard the golden apples that adorned the tables of Olympus.
"Let's give him a proper fight," Heracles said, cracking his knuckles.
"Wait," I stopped him.
"If we fight, the tree might be damaged. And the fruit with it."
I pointed to the golden apples glittering among the branches. We couldn't risk them. No battle. No damage.
"I'll try to sneak in and pick the fruit quietly. If he wakes up distract him."
The dragon lay with eyes shut, but surely his sleep was light. One misstep would rouse him.
I left all my gear behind to lighten my weight, covering my legs in Will to silence my steps. Climbing over the dragon's body, I reached the tree and began my ascent.
By some miracle, I remained unseen.
Author's Note
I've portrayed Heracles this way on purpose. He's a hero, a doer of mighty deeds, but one who let it go to his head until he got punched and started respecting the protagonist. He attacked him out of arrogant ego: "How could anyone else be a better hero than me?"
In God of War, Heracles became cruel after completing his labors and falling under the influence of dark gods. So this version is still a bastard but one who at least tries to do good.
I hope I managed to blend him into the story well, along with the satyr, without ruining the plot too much.