by Zachary Howe
“You are awake—what disturbs you?” His green eyes seemed to repel the waves of blue light.
“Just thinking.” Gordie shrugged. “What brings you by at this time of night?”
“I wish to show you something, if you would follow me. You may want to wear something warm.” Chiron waited as Gordie stepped out of bed in his sweatpants and threw a sweatshirt over his tee. When he was dressed, he followed Chiron out of his room and through the corridor that led to the Great Hall.
Squares of moonlight poured through the skylights above and shone brightly on the dark floor. Chiron didn’t speak. The only sound was the echoing clip-clop of his hooves. Gordie followed him into the corridor that led to the eucalyptus pool and Chiron’s room. He started to get anxious when they took the path to the right, which he had been down once without permission.
As it had the last time, the path began to climb, and the pair walked up the slope as they neared the place where Chiron slept. In a few minutes they passed his room and continued on.
“Where are we going?” Gordie whispered in the silent night, nervous that Chiron was aware of his eavesdropping and was preparing to punish him.
“You will see.”
Gordie’s heart pounded and blood filled his stomach as Chiron turned into the very room where Apollo had shown his face. Gordie stopped in the hallway. After a few seconds he heard Chiron’s clopping halt, and then a smattering of hooves on stone as the centaur turned around and stuck his head out of the chamber.
“Gordon? Is something wrong?”
“Uh no, I just, well, what’s in there?” Gordie tried to keep the nerves out of his voice.
“It is just my observatory,” Chiron said with a blank stare.
“Okay.” Chiron backed into the chamber as Gordie stepped forward and poked his head into the room. His fears transformed into astonishment as he looked out onto a precipice that melted into a sea of stars. “Whoa,” he breathed. “I thought this was just a room.”
“You thought it was a room?” Chiron sounded suspicious.
“I mean, you know,” he stammered, “from the hall I just figured it was a closed room, not an open, I don’t know, porch?”
“It is my balcony.” Chiron walked to the edge of the rock. “From here I watch the cosmos.”
The night air was still and quiet, only occasionally punctuated by the cry of an owl far below. Gordie inched forward—he was still nervous around heights after his fall from the pine tree, not to mention the airplane. The ledge extended thirty feet out of the door, and he slowly walked to the centaur’s side. When he was within five feet of the edge he dropped to his hands and knees and crawled to the brink, embarrassed by his fright, but not enough to risk standing. He looked over the edge, which dropped straight away to a distant plain.
“I chose this point because it extends far enough from the mountain that you can see nearly the entire sky.” Chiron stood motionless, staring out into the night. Gordie looked up at him from his knees and decided that the shame of his prostrated position now outweighed his fear. He rose to his feet.
“It’s pretty amazing,” Gordie said.
“There is Ursa Major.” Chiron pointed at a grouping of stars. “The constellation you call the Big Dipper marks the bear’s tail.” Chiron traced the constellation with his finger. “Follow that along the back until you reach the head,” he brought his finger down, “and then the legs.” He traced back around to the tail.
“Cool,” Gordie whispered.
“Callisto was a beautiful nymph, a wood nymph—a disciple of Artemis. She was so beautiful that she caught Zeus’s attention. He came down from his seat and took the form of a bear to stalk her in the forest. He had his way with her and left her crying on a bed of moss.” Chiron’s fists clenched, and Gordie looked away.
“Hera was angry with Callisto, as she was with all of Zeus’s victims, so she transformed the nymph into a bear—just the form her attacker had taken . . . She called it cosmic justice. The nymph’s son, Arcas, was a hunter. One night he came across a giant bear in the forest. As her son prepared to shoot her, Callisto appealed to Zeus as he had cursed her so. The King of Olympus transformed Arcas into a bear and placed them both in the night sky.” Chiron pointed to a nearby constellation Gordie recognized as the Little Dipper. “Ursa Minor, the little bear,” Chiron explained.
“That sounds terrible,” Gordie breathed; a little puff of steam rose into the air.
“It was. Such are the actions of the gods. When beings are given power over others they will almost always abuse it.” Chiron’s tone was informative, but Gordie could sense the hidden anger and sadness. He had no idea what to say to make his mentor feel better. Looking out into the stars, he noticed a familiar constellation.
“Hey, what’s that one?” He pointed out to their right. “The one that looks like a mouse.”
To Gordie’s surprise, Chiron laughed.
“A mouse indeed!” Chiron chuckled. “That is Leo the lion. Does it look familiar?” He looked down at Gordie.
“Yeah.” Gordie looked back at him. “I saw it when I was leading you out of the tunnel. It was all I could see in the darkness.” He stared back at the stellar cat.
“Yes. I saw it as well. It glowed very brightly that night and I don’t believe that was a coincidence.” The two looked at each other again.
“What do you mean?”
“What was Heracles most associated with?” Chiron asked. Gordie looked down as he thought. Then he remembered the Nemean Lion Skin.
“The Lion!” he said, looking back up at Chiron.
“Very good. After Heracles defeated the Nemean Lion, the great cats became reverent of him. They saw him as their king. I believe you share a similar connection, although you may still need to prove yourself to them.” Chiron watched Gordie, who looked bewildered.
“Do not trouble yourself with it.” Chiron placed a hand on Gordie’s shoulder. “You will prove yourself worthy when the time comes. For now, look to Leo as a guide . . . it seems he has already recognized your worth.” He smiled down at Gordie who returned the gesture in kind.
“So, what’s your favorite constellation?” Gordie asked. Chiron’s smile faded as he looked back into the cosmos.
“There.” He pointed to a general group of stars out to the left. “He has many names—Opiuchus, Serpentarius, Asclepius . . . another one of Zeus’s victims,” he sighed. Gordie didn’t really see the form of the constellation, but he didn’t want to press it as he understood it was an upsetting subject for Chiron for some reason.
“And look,” Chiron still sounded sad as he pointed out another constellation just to the right of the last, “there is your ancestor, Heracles—although, he no longer holds his club.” He smiled down at Gordie again, but his eyes showed no joy.
Ten minutes later, Gordie was back in bed, wondering what had upset Chiron so much. He thought about the people he missed, and for the first time in a few days, he thought about his father. “I’m sorry, Dad,” he whispered to the muted blue light that filled his room as a silent tear rolled down his cheek. Its track began to dry as he drifted to sleep.
***
Each of the next four days proceeded much as the first day of combat training, save for the return to Dasos. Each morning, Chiron brought Gordie to the spot where they had first practiced with weapons. Once, Chiron had brought a sword instead of a spear, and Gordie thought he was going to be dissected with each swing, but the centaur’s deft hands always turned the blade before contact so as to hit his pupil with the flat side. Although this didn’t maim Gordie, it still hurt like hell.
Each day, Gordie returned to the cavern to recuperate in the eucalyptus pool, without which he may have needed weeks between sessions. By the fourth day, Gordie had grown frustrated with his lack of improvement, a level of impatience that Chiron thought laughable given his millennia of existence.
“Gordon, nothing worthwhile comes easily,” Chiron had said. “You must be patient. Five trainin
g sessions does not Achilles make. It will take years to prepare you.”
“We don’t have years!” Gordie had argued. “Zeus is going to attack Hades! I have to finish the tasks ASAP!”
“Gordon, you are speaking of entities that have lived for thousands of years. When they set out to do something, they prepare, and that means more than a fortnight of planning. Besides, you have already forgotten, only Hermes can move between the planes now. Zeus will be unable to breach these barriers. We have time.”
“But how do you know?!” Gordie pleaded. “You don’t even know why they can’t come into our world. Maybe he’s close to figuring it out.”
“Maybe, but we have no evidence to support that. Besides, we have no choice but to continue your training. You are nowhere near ready to complete any task an Olympian will set before you.”
Gordie awoke the next day eager to prove himself. He dressed in a hurry, shouldered his bat, and made for the Great Hall. The rays coming through the skylights were still the pale gold of early morning. Gordie munched on some walnuts at the giant table as he waited for Chiron to get out of bed. He relished the opportunity to chide the centaur for sleeping in. Unfortunately, this pipedream dissolved when Chiron entered through the cave’s exit a few minutes later.
“What were you doing out there so early?” Gordie asked.
“Taking a walk—it is a beautiful morning,” Chiron answered. “I am surprised to see you up at this hour, but I am glad. Today, as I am sure you are aware, should be your first day of strength since you arrived. I am very eager to see what that will bring.”
Gordie had, in fact, forgotten that it had been twelve days since he arrived in Hades. Of course, that also meant that he would awake tomorrow to possess the same power, now having two consecutive days of Herculean strength after completing his first task.
“I totally forgot! But I don’t really feel any different right now. You don’t think I lost my power somehow, do you?” He looked at Chiron in alarm.
“Ho ho! Come, Gordon, surely you haven’t forgotten already? Do you not remember when you came to this part of the world? You did not possess power as the clock struck midnight. It will come. In fact, by my calculations, eight o’clock this morning will be the moment of truth, so to speak. It is my belief that your power did commence as the calendar day began in your homeland, but here, is not the time different?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“Yes, twenty-four-hour cycles. So let us get in a few reps before you become my superior.” Chiron smiled.
They made their way back to the training ground and faced each other as usual. Waiting for them was an assortment of dangerous-looking equipment: a mace, a wooden staff, club, spear, sword, war hammer, shields, and, to Gordie’s amusement, a pile of shot-puts.
“What are we gonna do with those?” Gordie eyed the more nefarious objects in the pile.
“Experiment,” Chiron said with a smile. “Now let us begin.”
An eagle circled overhead and screeched his starting signal. As usual, Chiron began swinging his javelin at Gordie in slow-motion to allow his student to get a feel for the maneuvers of close-quarters-combat. In time he sped up the movements like a dancing instructor, and Gordie began to miss more and more blocks until he was repeatedly beaten at various points on his body. If anything, Gordie had become adept at dodging attacks once he gave up trying to use his bat to block, a skill that Chiron became increasingly frustrated with as he said, “If you run, you can only be caught!”
They danced as the hot sun roved overhead. Gordie even tried attacking a couple times. However, these usually resulted in missing his target outright and having a spear whack him in the back of the neck, after which Chiron always said, “Decapitated.”
They returned to their starting position. Gordie wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He was breathing hard, staring up at Chiron who watched him, fresh and unscathed.
“Again.” Chiron leapt towards him and swung his spear downward as the dirt plumed beneath his hooves. Gordie rolled out of the way just in time, and bounced back to his feet. “Defend. Attack. Do not run.” Chiron leapt at him again.
And Gordie saw his next move, as if in slow-motion. The centaur’s teeth were bared in violent concentration as he pulled his spear back in preparation for a thrust. He aimed the spear head right at Gordie’s chest as he roared.
Gordie almost laughed as he felt his fast-twitch fibers prepare to move him out of harm’s way. Stepping to the side he grabbed the shaft of the spear with his left hand. He brought his right arm around, swinging his bat downward to break the javelin in half. Chiron stumbled forward but maintained his balance before he turned to address his successful opponent.
“Well hello, Gordon Leonhart, Blood of the Lion.”
“Did you know?” Gordie thought he knew the answer.
“As a matter of fact, I did. Just before my attack you underwent a change. Did you feel it?”
Gordie thought hard, trying to remember if he had experienced any physical sensation to notify him of his unleashed power.
“I don’t know. I was focused on you, but then everything slowed down. I feel it now, though.” He looked down at his arms and recoiled. “Whoa! I see it now, too!”
His muscles were twice as defined as they had been minutes earlier. He flexed his bicep and marveled at the added bulk. A great vein slithered down his upper arm like a python.
“Indeed. When I lunged, I saw your muscle mass increase dramatically and I knew, which is why I used such a dangerous attack. Forgive me, but if you hadn’t changed then I probably would have killed you.”
“Well, uh, thanks for your honesty.” Gordie shrugged.
“Let us try an experiment.” Chiron walked over to the weapons cache and lifted a shot-put, which he handed to Gordie. “Let’s see how far you can throw it,” he said, taking a step back.
Gordie tossed the iron ball up and down in one hand as if it were a golf ball, then he crow-hopped and threw it like a baseball towards the deep valley below. The pair watched the black ball hurtle outward until it travelled beyond Gordie’s sight. Just before he asked, ‘Where did it go?’ he saw a crater open up in the ground a number of kilometers away. A flock of birds rose from the spot, wings flapping, squawking in protest.
“Was that the shot-put?” Gordie didn’t believe that he could have thrown the ball that far.
“It was,” Chiron nodded, “but if you had used proper form you could have thrown it much further. Again.” He handed another to Gordie.
Gordie looked at the centaur, dumbfounded that he could have scoffed at such a remarkable feat, but as he had become accustomed to such downplay of his accomplishments, he did not argue. He lifted the second ball to his shoulder. He hadn’t attempted shot-put before, but he had seen it on television, so he tucked the ball in the crook of his neck and started hopping forward. With a mighty heave he pushed the ball skyward. As he caught his balance he watched it rise up and up. Again the little black ball started to fade from his sight, but soon it became brilliantly visible when it burst into flames as it exited the atmosphere. Gordie’s jaw dropped as he watched the rising comet bore through the ozone layer before the fiery tail disappeared. He looked up at Chiron who was still looking skyward.
“Much better,” the centaur said as he looked down at Gordie with a smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Now, why don’t we do some real training?”
They went at it for hours. Chiron worked his way through the various weapons he had brought, but very few were apt to damage his pupil. The war hammer was too slow for the speed that Hermes had imparted on young Gordon, who danced around the long, heavy mallet with the ease of Cassius Clay, allowing him to land muted blows on the large equine body of his teacher. The lighter, more agile weapons leveled the playing field as the centaur was at least able to block the furious attacks of his charge. Gordie’s bat thudded against club, sword, and spear before ultimately shattering each weapon. Chiron did manage to get one
shot in on Gordie’s back with a mace, which poked holes in his skin and bruised him deeply. The attack would have killed him without his elevated power.
“Enough!” Chiron breathed as he leaned against a staff. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of his face. “The transformation is truly remarkable. Your reactions are instantaneous, your attacks are brutal—although I suspect you have been holding back in that regard—and your movements are completely instinctual. If you were more disciplined I never would have come close to harming you, but I suppose your back is uninjured.”
“I’m good.” Gordie twisted his torso and stretched in various directions. “And you’re right, I have been holding back. You’re welcome.” He grinned.
“What have I told you about arrogance, Gordon? Do not be too proud of this minor victory. You will face much greater foes than myself.”
“Sorry.” Gordie rolled his eyes.
“Give me your club.” Chiron reached out. Gordie hesitated before handing him his bat. Chiron set the staff down and held the bat in one hand. It looked like a twig in his massive paw. He walked over to the pile of arms and snatched up a shield, which he held in his left hand. He banged the bat against the metal twice. The clang echoed around the hillside.
“When using a shield, you should always keep your arm bent at your hip so you can quickly lift it to block.” Chiron demonstrated by performing a slow chop with the bat and then lifting the shield to block his face as he crouched. “Now don your shield.” Gordie started towards the pile of armaments. “No,” Chiron pointed with the bat towards Gordie’s left arm, “that one.”
