Seventh Piece Of Acheron's Past

This Piece Of Acheron Past Is Set Directly After The Seventh One.
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With The Icy Wind Twisting Her Ghostly Pale Hair Around Her And Plastering Her Black Gown To Her Limbs, Apollymi Staggered On The Rocks Of The Sea Where Acheron’s Body Rested In A Broken Heap. Her Precious Son Had Been Dumped Here As If He Were Nothing. Nothing… Unshed Tears Racked Her. She Was So Cold Inside, So Defeated, So… There Were No Words To Describe The Anguish Of Her Seeing Her Son’s Body Lying Face Down In The Water, Abandoned And Forgotten. Thrown Away. After All They’d Done To Him, They Couldn’t Even Provide A Decent Funeral. She Looked To The Side, Where She Saw Tobari, The Girl From The Memories That Xiamara Had Shown Her, Acheron’s Memories. She Was Lying There Like She’d Been Thrown Away As Well. Apollymi Took The Orb That Acheron Wore Around His Neck Since He’d Been Given His True Form, And Sealed Tobari’s Remains Inside, So That She Would Always Be With Acheron.

Weak From Her Grief, She Sank To Her Knees In A Pool Of Water And Pulled Him From The Rocks To The Beach. Unable To Stand It, She Screamed Out, Sending Birds Into Flight. “Apostolos!!” She Screamed, Even When She Knew He Couldn’t Hear Her. His Body Was As Cold As Her Heart. His Silver Eyes Were Open And Glazed, And Even Now, They Swirled Like A Stormy Sky. Yet, For All The Horrors Of His Death, His Features Were Serene. And They Were Beautiful, More So Than Any Mother Could Have Ever Hoped For. She Saw In His Face, Herself. Saw Her Hopes For Him Made Real. He Was So Perfectly Formed. So Tall And Strong…And They Had Butchered Him, Tortured Him, Defiled And Humiliated Her Son. Her Precious Baby. Choking On A Sob, She Ran Her Hand Over The Long Gash On His Chest To Seal It Closed. Only Then, When He Was Perfect Again Did Her Tears Break As She Laid Her Lips To His Cheek To Kiss Him And Cry. This Was The First Time She’d Held Him Since She’d Cut Him From Her Womb.

Gathering Him Close, She Rocked Him On The Beach And Let All The Horror Inside Free, “I Tried So Hard To Protect You, Apostolos,” She Barely Breathed Into His Ear, “I Tried So Hard.” She Whispered When She Realized That She’d Failed Miserably, And In Her Attempt, Had Made His Life An Unbearable One. Wanting To Comfort Him And Knowing It Was Too Late, She Futilely Rubbed His Arms To Warm Them. If Only He Could Look At Her, Hear Her Voice, But He Never Would. And She Would Never Hear Him Call Her Matera. It Was More Than She Could Stand, “Please,” She Breathed, “Please Come Back To Me, Apostolos. I Swear I’ll Keep You Safe This Time. I Won’t Let Anyone Hurt You. Please, My Child, I Can’t Live Knowing I Killed You. I Can’t. Look At Me, Please!” She Yelled, But He Couldn’t And She Knew It. If Only She Had The Power To Restore His Life. But Unlike His Father, She Was Born Of Destruction, Death, Pestilence, And War. Those Were Her Gifts To The World. There Was Nothing She Could Do To Bring Back The One She Loved Most.

Where Were The Chthonians Now To Demand Blood Over The Death Of Her Precious Child? Why Weren’t They Here On Acheron’s Behalf? They Didn’t Care, No One Cared, Except Her. And Xiamara, Who’d Tried So Hard To Save Him. The Only One She’d Ever Been Able To Confide In. Closer Than Sisters, Closer Than Mother And Daughter. Now She, Too, Was Gone. Apollymi Was Alone, Bitterly Alone. She Cradled Her Son’s Head To Her Breasts And Screamed Out So Loud That Sound Carried All The Way To The Hall Of The Gods, “Damn You, Archon! Damn You!!” She Yelled As Loud As She Could. How Could He Have Ever Claimed To Love Her? How Could He Allow Acheron To Die Like This? To Suffer So Much Pain? Her Heart Shattered, She Buried Her Face In Her Son’s White Hair And Cried Until Her Sobs Were Spent. Then Her Fury Mounted And Took A Vicious Root Into Her Heart. They’d Been Betrayed By The Very Ones Who Were Supposed To Love And Honor Them.

Now There Would Be Kalosis To Pay. It Was Time To Take Her Son Where He Belonged. Time To Make Her So-Called Family Bleed For Their Betrayal. Her Course Set, Apollymi Clothed Her Son In The White Formesta Robes Of His Station. This Was His Birthright. As The Son Of The Destroyer, His Symbol Was That Of The Sun That Represented Her, Pierced By The Three Lightning Bolts Of His Power. He Wasn’t Garbage, He Wasn’t A Slave, He Was The Son Of The Destroyer. Picking Him Up From The Surf And Cradling Him In Her Arms, She Took Them Both To Katoteros. It Was In The Middle Of An Impassible Mountain Range. Breathtakingly Beautiful, It Was The Only Place In The Human Realm That The Gods Saw Fit To Live. Standing At The Highest Point, Where Her Mother The North Wind Shrieked On Her Behalf, Apollymi Looked Out Over The Landscape That Should Have Been Owned By Acheron.

The Mountain Rivers Sparkled In The Perfect Light Under The Sun That Attempted To Warm Her Skin. A Futile Effort. The Mansion To The Right Housed The Paradise Where The Souls Of The Demons That Have Been Promised Rebirth Stayed Until Their Reincarnation. The Mansion To The Left Had Been Held By The Charonte Until Her Banishment--Unlike Her Family, The Charonte Had All Been Loyal To Her. They Had All Followed Her Into Kalosis. And The Mansion Before Her Had Been Intended For Her Son. But It Was The One That Possessed The Second Highest Point In Katoteros That Held Her Attention. The One That United And Ruled All The Mansions. The Mansion Where The Hall Of The Gods Had Been Built. Archon’s Mansion. Her Vision Darkening, She Took Them There, Outside The Grand Marble Hall That Stood So Tall And Proud As It Looked Down Upon The Rest Of Katoteros. Music And Laughter Echoed From Inside The Building. Oblivious To What Had Come To Pass And To What They Faced The Gods Were Having A Party. She Could Feel The Presence Of Her Entire Family Inside. All Of Them, Celebrating, Laughing, Cheering, Having Fun. And Her Beloved Son Was Dead…

Dead! Her World Was Shattered, And They Still Laughed. Holding Acheron Close, She Ascended The Stairs With A Deceptive Calm And Flung The Doors Open With Her Powers. The White Marble Foyer Was Circular With Statues Of The Gods Taking Station Every Four Feet Against The Pristine Walls. Her Heart Hammering With Vindictive Fury, She Walked Through The Center Of The Foyer Where Her Emblem Had Been Etched Into The Floor. As she Crossed Over It, She Changed It To That Of Acheron. One By One, His Bolts Of Power Pierced Her Symbol. The colors Now Red And Black To Represent Her Grief And her Son’s Spilled Blood. Without Hesitating, She Walked Straight For The Set Of Gold Doors That Led To Archon’s Throne Room. To The Room Where The Gods Made Merry While Her Son Lay Dead From Their Treachery. By All The Dark Powers Of The Universe, They Wouldn’t Be Laughing For Long.

She Opened The Doors With The Full Force Of Her Fury, The Clattering Sound Rang Out As The Doors Slammed Against The Marble Walls And Broke From Their Hinges To Fall To The Shiny, Perfect Floor. The Music Stopped Instantly. Every God In The Hall Turned To Look At Her And One By On, Their Faces Blanched White. Without A Word, Apollymi Held Her Son In Her Arms And Walked With A Calmness She Didn’t Feel Toward The Dais Where Her Black Throne Sat Beside Her Husband’s Gold Throne. Archon Stood Up And Moved To The Side As If To Speak To Her. She Ignored Him As she Placed Acheron On Archon’s Throne, Where He Belonged. Her Hands Shaking, She Sat Him Up And Carefully Placed Each Of His Hands On The Arms Of The Throne. She Lifted His Head And Brushed The White Hair Away From His Slightly Blue Face. Until He Looked Like He Would Blink At Any Moment. Only, He Would Never Blink Again, He Was Dead, And So Was Her Family…

Apollymi’s Heart Beat With Fury As Her Power Mounted. A Feral Wind Exploded Through The Hall, Sweeping Her Hair Up As Her Eyes Glowed Red And Gold. She Turned On The Gods And Leveled A Malevolent Glare At Each Of Them As They Held A United Breath In Expectation Of Her Wrath. Until She Glared At Archon. Only Then Did She Speak In A Voice That Was Laced With Her Hatred, “Look At My Son!” He Refused, “Look, Damn You!” She Snarled, “I Want You To See What You’ve Done!” Archon Winced Before He Complied And The Relief In His Eyes Notched Her Anger To An Even Higher Level. How Could She Have Ever Allowed A Demon So Callous And Putrid Into Her Bed? Into Her Body? Apollymi Growled, “Your Bastard Daughters Deprived My Son Of His Life, The Little Whores Damned Him, And You,” She Sneered The Word, “Dared To Protect Them Instead Of My Child!” She Yelled. “Apollymi--” He Stopped Talking And Fell To His Knees Like He Couldn’t Breathe, “Don’t You Ever Speak My Name Again.” She Sealed His Mouth Shut With Her Powers, “You Had Every Right To Be Afraid, But Your Bitch-Daughters Were Wrong. It Won’t Be My Son Who Destroys Our Pantheon. It Is I. Apollymia Katastrafia Megola. Pantokrataria. Thanatia Katoteria Deia Oly!”

Apollymi The Great Destroyer. All Powerful. Death To The Gods Of Katoteros.


It Was Then They Scrambled For The Doors Or Tried To Teleport Out, But She Would Have None Of It. Drawing From The Darkest Part Of Her Soul, She Sealed The Hall Closed. No One Would Leave Until She Was Appeased, No One. If The Chthonians Killed Her For This, So Be It. She Already Felt Dead Inside. She Didn’t Care About Anything Except Making Them All Pay for Their Part In Her Son’s Suffering. Archon Fell To His Knees And Plead For His Mercy. But There Was Nothing Inside Her But A Hate So Potent She Could Actually Taste It. She Kicked Him Back And Blasted Him With Every Element Over And Over Until He Was Nothing More Than Ashes. One By One, She Faced The Gods That She’d Once Considered Family And Blasted Them Into Nothing.

The Only One She Hesitated At Was Her Beloved Step-Grandson, Dikastis--The God Of Justice. Unlike The Others, He Didn’t Cower Or Beg. Nor Did He Fight Her. He Stood Before Her, Calmly Meeting Her Gaze As An Equal. But Then, He Understood Justice, He Understood Her Wrath. Inclining His Head Respectfully, He Didn’t Move As She Mercifully Blasted Him With Lightning, Killing Him Before He Could Feel The Pain. She Was Unappeased, Even After All Of Them Were Dead And Gone. The Hole Inside Her Was Still There And It Hurt So Much That All She Could Do Was Scream. Throwing Her Arms Out, She Splintered The Hall Until There Was Nothing Left But Rubble. Nothing Left But Her Memories Of Her Hope For A Son That Was Now Dead. Wincing In Pain, She Pushed Her Grief Aside As She Struck Out On Acheron’s And Xiamara’s Behalf.

Apollymi Turned Then To Look In The Direction Of Greece. They Would Be The Last To Suffer, Not Just The Humans, But Those Damned Greek Gods Who Thought They Were Infallible. Most Of All, Archon’s Bastard Daughters Would Pay. They Thought Themselves Safe On Olympus Under The Care Of Their Mother. But The Fates Were No Match For The Daughter Of Chaos, The Mother Of Ultimate Destruction. Their Dying Screams Would Be The Ones She’d Cherish The Most.