Days piled on top of each other. Ari would not leave the camp they now called home. The Fallen One and her brothers worked the chores needed to maintain some level of comfort: gathering wood, fishing, cooking, and cleaning.
One night, while sharing a meal around a fire, the brothers leisurely told Hephaestus the incident of the shadows they thought they saw.
"Asu tejaro ta?" the Fallen One asked.
"Si, ta 7."
"Myrmekes! So mina pu qerau." The Fallen One ordered.
Ari sat, submerged in empty thoughts, fading. She was offered water by one of the brothers. She shook her head and he lowered his head and walked away. Everyone knew better than to try to entertain a conversation with her.
A few days later, Hephaestus approached her. "Your brothers found a place where we'll move to."
Ari slowly turned her head towards him while her eyebrows narrowed.
"We can't be here forever. My leg will rust. You don't want that do you?"
She lifted the corner of her mouth and narrowed her eyes. "I find it hard to believe that Hephaestus Bronze will rust." After lowering her head down briefly, she frowned at him. "Did you say my brothers? I thought they were Sintians?"
"We must leave this place. However, I must first retrieve something of importance. I will be back." As he gained strength, his limp had lessened but it never went away completely. He stopped grunting, but the pain would be eternal. Underneath to hide his bronze. Yet the thump it made while hitting the ground would always announce his presence.
Alone, he returned to the crater made by his fall. He went inside it and knelt. He straightened the fingers of his right hand and pushed it inside the crystalized sandy ground. He twisted his arm, pushing his hand deeper into the ground, digging like a worm, slowly but determined. He grimaced as the soil scrapped his arm, nearly skinning it. His fingertips touched it. His arm was almost elbow deep in the soil when he grasped it and began pulling. It barely moved. He kept on, grinding his teeth, grunting, forcing his will into the soil.
Slowly but surely, his double headed battle axe surfaced from its tomb. He grabbed it with both hands and stared at it, the way you look at a recovered, long lost favorite possession. He did not care about his nearly skinless arm. Yes, it is blood. More scars for me.
#
The four of them made their way inland, leaving no trace of their camp and what happened at Mosychlos. They avoided any contact with people. There were far too many questions they did not want to address. They encountered an old, abandoned olive grove.
The trees were sick, full of rough galls and swellings on branches and trunks. They were partly defoliated. There was an old house mistreated by many winters gone by. The bricks were mostly clutters of dried mud, crumbles held together by mercy. The roof did not have a single intact clay tile. The rotten wooden shutters had not been open in many seasons.
Ari placed her hands on her hips. "I think we were better at the camp."
"Don't worry. It can all be fixed," The Fallen One assured her.
The noise of crackling dried branches startled her.
Hephaestus chuckled. "One surprise left," he said, looking at a donkey that timidly walked from behind the house.
She got to it and petted it. "What are Myrmerkes?" she asked.
He crossed his arms and smirked at her. "You were listening. They are scouts. Beings from a faraway land."
"I'm not going to ask. I've gotten used to the strange. What are they doing here?"
"Looking for me," he answered while leaving her side to inspect the grove.
"Is that why you have that axe?"
"This is just a tool," he said while staring at it. "We need to repair the house quickly. A big storm is coming, and we've got no shelter."
"That axe is not for chopping wood."
"Oh, but it can if I wanted it to," Hephaestus said with a grin."
"Is that your weapon, the one you used to fight off Zeus?"
"Why do you ask questions of things you know?"
"Because that way I know if you are being truthful. It is beautiful. It deserves a name."
"A name? Why? It's a thing."
"You did say anything made of your bronze is self-aware, didn't you?"
"Will you give a name to my leg also?"
"No, of course not. The leg is part of you. Any formidable weapon deserves a name! Does Hyperion's Bane sound familiar?"
"How do you know of Prometheus blade?"
"Everyone knows Prometheus. Let's name your axe Apator, The Fatherless."
He lifted one eyebrow and looked at his blade. "It seems appropriate. Apator, The Fatherless shall it be."
"Qaqaro," one of the brothers called. "Arauda tna setoija," he said while pointing towards the north horizon.
"Hmm," Hephaestus frowned. "Strange. It is not storm season yet, but it looks like a big one."
"Where will we take shelter?" Ari asked.
The Fallen One looked at the shed.
"You must be humoring me," Ari crossed her arms.
"So daminija daipita pu kupano," Hephaestus told theSintians. "The shed will hold, but we need to reinforce it a bit," he told Ari."We'll need your help."