In Pursuit of Kronos' Scythe (Completed)

IX - The Underwater Palace of Nerocust - Part II

Piotr Mikolaj

Poseidon summoned a third boat for himself, as The Symphony climbed into theirs. The wind blew, bringing an invigorating and unusual fresh scent. Staring up at the tapestry of the sky lit with a universe of constellations, a profound feeling engulfed Piotr. He couldn't find the right word to name his feeling. It was beyond explanation. When they sailed under the starry sky, which was beginning to lapse into the twilight zone, Poseidon hummed a song.

Row, row, the boats row; to the distant coast they row.

Flow, flow, the waves flow; to the eastern shore they flow.

Glow, glow, the stars glow; in the endless sky they glow.

Show, show, the moon shows; to the endless route she shows.

Row, row, the boats row; until they reach the distant shore.

Poseidon's eyes misted over as he repeated the rhymes, and he rowed his boat in a dreamy way. The song stroked Piotr's soul passionately. Though he was leading a quest which life or death wasn't determined, he felt a sense of completion, far more complete when he was securely locked on top of a tower. There were too many holes in his souls, but they were being slowly filled up. His muses visited him, and he too attempted a song.

Mighty night, wholly night, that breed many mighty knights.

Valiant knights, gallant knights, who triumph many sacred fights.

Their hearts, bright and light, smite all odds with awesome strikes.

Mighty night, wholly night, that breed many mighty knights.

Valiant knights, gallant knights, who fight to win their rights.

Tharalea lay her head on Piotr's shoulder, squeezing his hand as he sang on. Piotr was taken aback at this sudden affection. After the shock washed over, he squeezed back Tharalea's hand, caressing it with his thumb. Rexon was playing with his flute halfheartedly. The waves hummed, complementing the tune he blew. Calyssa was combing Cytherea's hair with her claws, while Cytherea concentrated on pricking away the dirt in her nails.

Koby, who was quite a chatterbox, stared unusually quiet at the moon. He gazed with fondness at the white obelisk that was beginning to turn crescent. Slowly, he hugged his body, caressing his wounds. His scars looked like silver ores under the creamy beam. Piotr understood Koby's feeling well. He too had been locked in a confined space with his freedom stripped off, leaving nothing but fear, hatred, solemnness, boredom, and the feeble hope to be set free again. 

He knew those feelings well. He had tasted all of them.

The waved swelled, the boats rocked, the moon beamed. This was the perfect night for the old memories to resurface. The silence stretched out, settling over the foggy air. The group cherished the serene dawn in their own ways. None of them spoke.

Silence is gold. Piotr remembered seeing this philosophy written in a plank, hanging down from the ceiling of the library in Athena's realm. But the tranquility didn't last. The sudden noises of clanking metals and sawing of woods woke them up from their own reminiscence. Piotr saw dust pluming up and surrounding an island. The velocity of their boats reduced.

"Poor Calypso. She has been staying a solitary life," Poseidon said. "So, we've decided to change the rules. I'll make this island as the main port to enter my palace. There are so many intruders and robbers intending to steal my treasure every day."

Piotr recalled Calypso being punished by the god to be grounded in her island forever, merely because she had fallen in love with a mortal. She adored Odysseus, a man with a wife, so much that she kept him on her island for seven years until the gods interrupted their affair.