“Oh, I bet they did.”
She scoffed, agreeing with this comment. “There, he was granted permission to undertake his most ambitious work yet; to forge a weapon unlike any before it. And so, with divine flame and forging mastery, Hephaestus created the dagger you now hold.”
I gasped, looking down at the weapon in my hand, now seeing it in an entirely different light with the knowledge of its history and the divine power it must have held. But not just that, I didn’t dare even think of how priceless it was. Which meant suddenly it was no longer just a stunningly crafted gift.
No, it was so much more.
“It is a dagger capable of absorbing and holding the power of a god, locking it away until it is needed once more,” she said, and suddenly, what she spoke of earlier, about needing her lightning, was starting to make sense.
I admired the dagger in my hand again after I had absorbed the story she told me. I couldn’t quite believe I was holding something forged thousands of years ago by a Greek God. The dagger felt so right in my hands, like a limb I had been missing. But oddly still, my markings matched it, like I was meant to hold this dagger. Like it was fate.
And it only added more questions than offered answers. One question that stuck out more than the rest…why me?
“Because I am a descendant of the Cyclopes, the powers are passed down through generations. I hold not only thunder but lightning too, and these powers were passed to the gods in our weapons. Therefore, the power of the gods is the power of the Cyclopes. That is why the dagger can hold my power, as really, this power is only borrowed by the gods.”
Bronte had said that her ancestors were sent to Tartarus because of their monstrous appearances, but here she was, one of, if not the most beautiful creature I had ever seen in my life.
“What about the engravings?” I asked, examining them further. They were basic symbols, and I had seen them before, of course, on myself and on the King, but like a light switch had come on in my head, I finally realised something. “These are the same as my scars.” Though one was no longer lit up, and as I fingered the dull engraving, it seemed like I could feel my touch where the marking used to be, too.
“The dagger will know your intent, so you can wield it as a weapon, and it will hold the lightning.”
I was about to ask for more details, but Aster finally caught up with us, and I could instantly see the strain in his amber eyes. Which instantly told me two things. The first was that whatever he had going on with Tiff was serious, and the second was that saying goodbye to her was painful. Which was why I couldn’t tease him about it, despite the fact that I could still see traces of her lipstick on his lips.
“I see you gave her the dagger then,” Aster said, nodding down to the weapon still held in my hand like I was holding some priceless artefact forged by the gods… oh wait, yeah, that was exactly what I was holding.
“I did, but she will need a way to carry it,” Bronte replied, making Aster grin.
“Lucky I brought this along then,” he said, holding up a belt that looked to be made from thick, soft leather and was embossed with beautiful swirls and interlocking patterns. It had two sheaths that had me frowning in confusion, but then my eyes lit up.
“My knife!” Sure enough, in one of the sheaths was my knife, the one which Atlas had taken off me what seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Atlas wanted you to have it back.” Aster said.
I pointed to the sword hanging by his side. “I can see you’re packing.”
“I don’t just use my horns,” he replied with a smirk.
It was suddenly back to business when Bronte said, “I’m going to stay here with the other soldiers and watch over the refugees here. Tiffany will stay here too…” She paused to raise her hand toward Aster before reassuring him. “And don’t worry, I’ll keep her safe,” she said, giving him a pat on his shoulder, not at all intimidated by his size as many others would be. But then again, neither was Tiff.
It was a shame Bronte wasn’t going to come with us, but she was right. She was the best one to protect everyone here while Aster and I went to Atlas’s aid.
Aster nodded down at the dagger in my hand and approached me with the belt. It had sturdy buckles and twin straps dangling at one side. He took the scabbard from my hands again and secured it so it angled for a quick, clean draw. Wrapping the belt low around my hips, he positioned it so the scabbard was on my left side, seeing as I was left-handed. Next, he fastened the buckle and tugged at it gently.
“Too tight?” he asked. I shook my head in response, and he stepped back, eyeing his work. I went to put the dagger into the scabbard, but Bronte held out her hand.
“I need to add the lightning,” she said, making him smirk.
“Well, that will be handy to have.” And well, I couldn’t agree more, because I had seen it in action and knew what it could do. Which was why I was eager to pass it over to her.
“Okay, so Aster and I will take it from here,” she informed me, before instructing me to take the horses and give them space… lots and lots of space.
I took hold of the horse’s reins, and I walked across the street close to the opening of the abandoned café. One whose windows and doors had been smashed at some point, but the glass looked to have been cleaned up. In fact, most of the city seemed to have been maintained in some way, despite being deserted.
The streets around the State Building, for example, had been cleared, and they looked generally well-presented and not exactly as apocalyptic as everywhere I had been these past few years.
As for Aster and Bronte, I watched from afar, leaning slightly into the dappled grey horse to get a slight whiff of the leather and the warmth that reminded me of the travel to the Rift with the King. In fact, being around horses again, despite my previous nervousness with them, reminded me of a lot of things about my time with Atlas. Mainly, how good it felt being held against him with his arms around me as we travelled along the trail to the Rift.
I shook myself free of thoughts of missing him, focusing instead on what was happening ahead.
