Chapter
Ah, the lilies.
The scent was so thick Helenos could practically taste the funeral shroud.
And that bird—that sparrow—was back.
Announcing that the universe had hit the "undo" button on his existence.
Helenos opened his eyes to the familiar dappled sunlight of the Sunken Garden.
He stared at the olive leaves.
With his mind full of memories that shouldn't exist.
Haa...
Well played, Helenos.
He mocked himself.
Kill yourself...
Very dramatic.
Very messy.
About as effective as screaming at a tide.
***
He felt the ghost-sting of the fruit knife across his throat.
He remembered the heat of his own blood.
The way it had stained Clytemnestra’s dress.
The way she hadn't even dropped her wine cup.
She'd just looked at him with that terrifying, cool curiosity.
***
"Prince Helenos? My Lord?"
Thalia.
Water.
Concern.
Same thing.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
"Thalia," Helenos said, his voice dry and rattling.
"Yes, My Lord?"
"If you bring me that water, I’m going to drown myself in the basin. I want to see if the bird chirps differently next time."
Thalia froze.
Her face a mask of bewilderment.
"My Lord... you are having those dark dreams again. It is the heat."
"It’s not the heat, Thalia. It’s the repetition."
Helenos sat up.
Small seven-year-old limbs feeling like useless clay.
He looked at his hands.
Soft.
Weak.
Tried training in the first life—running until his lungs burned and his bones felt like glass.
Never got faster.
Never got stronger.
Like a god had drawn a line in the sand and told his body, 'This far, and no further.'
He had tried to be the perfect, precious brother in the third.
Clytemnestra traded that love for fifty ships without blinking.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
He thought about it for a minute.
And after,
he stood up and walked outside the garden
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
Helenos didn't go to the stables.
He didn't panic.
But he walked straight to the High Temple of Apollo.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
He didn't go to pray
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
He stood before the towering marble statue of the Sun God
Priests were busy tending to the flames.
Helenos ignored them, stepping directly onto the sacred dais—a space forbidden to all but the anointed.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
"Fuck you!!!" Helenos shouted, his high-pitched voice echoing off the gold-leafed ceiling.
The Head Priest turned, aghast.
"Prince Helenos! Step down at once!"
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
Helenos ignored the priest.
"Go fuck yourself"
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
He looked up at the statue's eyes.
"Fuck your life! Fuck your incest loving dad too!!!" Helenos swared. "Why can't I get better at anything!"
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
A sudden, unnatural wind swept through the temple.
Blowing out the sacrificial fires.
The air grew heavy.
Smelling of ozone and scorched earth.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
"You want me to be a prophet?" Helenos taunted.
Stepping closer to the statue.
"Fine. I’ll give you a prophecy. I'm going to die in 8 years!!!"
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
CRACK.
A sudden, blinding heat erupted in his chest.
His heart gave one violent, agonizing lurch.
The world turned white.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
He woke up again.
And again.
And again.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
Death Count: 4 Cause: Heart failure after insulting Apollo’s lineage. Discovery: The gods don't just listen—they react. If they react, they can be manipulated. They have tempers. Tempers mean mistakes.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
Death Count: 9 Cause: Falling from the cliffs after trying to "negotiate" with a sea-nymph for a faster body. Discovery: The nymphs know where the shipwrecks are. There is a Phoenician vessel at the bottom of the bay containing gold that isn't on the royal ledgers. (When he returned, he remembered the gold, but he couldn't remember which bay it was in.)
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l**l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
Death Count: 15 Cause: Mother killed him because he found out her secret of hers. Discovery: She lusts over children
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
The more he died, the more he knew.
But he'd forgotten things that were important.
He sat clutching his head, his small fingers digging into his scalp.
"Think, damn it. Think!"
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
Chirp.
Lilies.
Helenos sat up on the marble bench.
He didn't wait for Thalia to speak.
And didn't look at the water.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
He reached into the dark library of his mind—where he kept the maps of twenty-seven failed lives.
No muscles.
No savior.
Levers.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
He knew that in two days, a merchant from Egypt would arrive with a specific type of slow-acting poison disguised as kohl.
He knew that the Captain of the Guard was sleeping with the Queen’s chief handmaid.
And he knew exactly which stone in the cellar could be moved to overhear the King's private councils.
And that I need to take a break.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
"Thalia," Helenos said,.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
The maid stopped.
Her hand trembling.
She looked at the Prince.
Saw something that made her want to bolt.
His eyes weren't a child's eyes—they were the eyes of a man who'd watched the world end two dozen times and found it boring.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
"Yes... My Lord?"
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
"The author will take aa break tomorrow cause he has to go to school"
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
"Go to the kitchens. Tell the head cook that the wine being delivered from Chios is turned. Tell him to check the third barrel from the left."
"But, My Lord, how could you—"
"And then," Helenos interrupted, standing up and smoothing his tunic with chilling precision, "go to my mother. Tell her I wish to speak with her about the 'Titan’s Gift' she keeps hidden in her jewelry box. The one she thinks nobody knows about."
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
Thalia’s face went white.
She dropped the bronze cup.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
Helenos didn't flinch as the water splashed his sandals.
He just smiled.
A thin, predatory line.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
"Don't look so shocked, Thalia. It's going to be a very long eight years. We might as well start making things interesting. Would you like me to show you where the King hides his secret correspondence next?"
He turned and walked toward the palace, his gait steady, his mind already weaving the first threads of a web that would eventually choke the life out of Mycenae.
*l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l'l*
Thaila smiled.
It now knew that it was his 29th attempt.
*
Well, sorry about the bad chapter, I wrote an R18 today so... uh... I did have time but... sorry.
