CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lesson Number Eleven, Part 1

CONGRATULATIONS! You’ve completed the mission [GOODWILL HUNTING]. REWARD ONE: The Mask of the Argonaut. REWARD TWO: Increased Favor with Chiron, Trainer of Heroes. REWARD THREE: Permanent +2 Increase to WILLPOWER.

Sam was sitting on the floor and leaning against the back wall of the administrator’s room while he read the notification. To say that it was a sight for sore eyes was an understatement because Sam had only just finished wiping away the last of his tears.

No, he wasn’t usually this emotional, but the similarity of his latest foe’s horrible fate to his family’s own tragic circumstance, and how he helped this banshee find peace felt incredibly cathartic to the hero who’d run away from the horror that had once been his mother.

Sam was so out of it he’d only just noticed that there was something heavy on his palm. His eyes widened at the sight of the item wrapped between his fingers.

It was a bronze mask that covered the upper half of one’s face. The ancient Greek patterns along its edges gleamed in the dark, a telltale sign of an enchantment.

“Huh, I’ve never worn a mask before…I didn’t believe a hero should hide their face.”

ITEM: Mask of the Argonaut QUALITY: Unique TYPE: Equipment DESCRIPTION: A mask worn by the greatest heroes of the Classical Age. It is proof that one has been accepted among the ranks of the Argonauts. BOONS: WILLPOWER +2, DEXTERITY +1, this mask will help hide the hero’s identity even from those who know him well while also increasing the hero’s ability to blend into the scenery. ALERT! The Mask of the Argonaut’s other boons will remain locked until the hero reaches a high enough level to unlock them.

“Hephaestus’ flaming beard…this thing’s amazing.”

I told you I’d give you a reward worthy of your first official solo mission!

Sam wasn’t entirely sure what Willpower could do for him, but that last benefit was certainly a welcome boon. Sam realized it was best no one figured out who he was until he was strong enough to not worry about what they might do to a hero with a system that helped him grow stronger.

“Yeah”—the hand that held the mask dropped onto his lap—“thanks.”

Well don’t get too excited…it’s not like I didn’t just give you the mask that Jason himself wore on his first adventure against the horrors of Lemnos…

Sam’s eyebrow twitched upward. “This is THE Jason’s mask…you gave me a freaking relic?”

It’s no big deal. The thing was collecting dust in my personal armory… I thought it was about time someone wore it.

But it was a big deal, Sam knew, because ancient relics, especially the ones created during the Classical Age, held incredible power for those who learned how to wield them.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Sam smiled sheepishly.

Like I said, kid, don’t make a big deal out of it…this doesn’t mean I approve of you or anything.

“Sure, you’re very believable right now,” Sam chuckled as he hurled Chiron’s own words back at him.

Shut it, lame-brain! How about you do something useful like picking up your loot instead of cracking wise-ass at me?

At the mention of loot, Sam’s gaze drifted over to the horror’s corpse. The banshee lay unmoving on the floor. Sam had caved its face in, but most of the corpse remained intact.

He recalled how several of its parts, the larynx, for example, was grounded up and mixed with herbs to create a medicine that could enhance the allure of someone’s voice. Opera singers who couldn’t hit those high notes naturally paid a fortune for this kind of medicine.

Sam would make a killing off this banshee’s remains if he was inclined to carve pieces of it off. But he wasn’t willing to desecrate the body of a horror that reminded him too much of his mother’s final fate. Instead, he pulled out a small vial from a pouch on his utility belt and poured the luminescent green liquid inside it over the horror’s corpse.

Are you sure about this, kid? Greek fire will turn that Banshee into ash. It would be a waste.

“Not for me,” Sam whispered.

Then at least pick up the drachma. Don’t ignore the gods’ tribute to your victory.

Sam picked up the fifty golden drachmas he’d earned from his fight against the banshee. “The gods clearly enjoyed that last fight,” he sighed.

Probably…you did almost die a bunch of times, and they enjoy those kinds of near-death experiences.

“Seven hundred and forty dollars…not bad for a day’s work of putting my life on the line,” Sam joked.

No, it wasn’t nearly enough considering how many times he’d been in mortal danger, but as his eyes glanced up toward the ceiling, Sam could feel no other menace from above—and the thought that he’d cleansed this place of darkness was enough to lighten his mood.

Sam knew how a haunted zone was dangerous to a neighborhood’s well-being. It wasn’t just because the more powerful horrors could wander out of one and turn an entire street into an extermination zone much like the alpha-level terror had done in the Bronx, but the real-estate value usually took a hit too. Not to mention the people’s peace of mind.

The realization that he’d just saved this neighborhood from the anxiety and fear brought about by an active haunted zone caused the tension knotting his muscles to loosen. And with his shoulders finally relaxing, Sam let out a relieved breath and said, “Not a bad day at all…”

It was a long while later—with his gaze glued to the horror’s corpse—when Sam finally stirred from his musing.

“Master…did you know?”

Not for sure, but the odds were pretty high. More than any other emotion, an asylum is a breeding ground for despair.

“Because it’s filled with patients who’ve lost hope…”

Yeah, something like that.

“Is that why you sent me here?” Sam asked, his brow furrowing. “So I could get over past trauma?”

I hoped it would help you a bit… Listen, kid, you can’t be the hero you want to be until you can push past your fears and get back into believing in hope.

“Hold on…this was a lesson?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “You couldn’t make it any easier?”

I really couldn’t, because this was one lesson that needed to be drilled into your brain in the most forceful way possible…

Sam’s eyebrow twitched up. “A lesson about hope is that important?”

Probably the most important one… Time for lesson number eleven; never lose hope! Hope is what remains in Pandora’s Box after all the evils of the world have been set free. It’s the one thing that keeps total darkness at bay, the light at the end of the dark tunnel…and a hero without hope isn’t a hero at all

“Hope…” Sam repeated.

Listen well, kid… A hero who can inspire people to hope is the kind of hero every one of the all-time greats aspired to be.

After Sam had thought about Chiron’s words some more, he finally ignited the Greek fire and watched the banshee’s corpse turn into dust under the scalding heat of emerald flames. For Sam, it felt a lot like a funeral, one he didn’t get to have for his mother. He hoped his mother had received this same gesture from the heroes who’d hunted her down.

It was mid-morning when Sam walked into Goodwill Asylum. The sky above had gone dark when he left its doors. Moonlight cast its ray upon Sam who bathed underneath it while gulping down as much of the chilly night air as he could take in.

“Huh,” Sam’s nose caught a whiff of something burning in the air. “What is that?”

He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if his Greek fire had caused the broken-down building to go up in flames even though he’d made sure to put it out afterward. No, all was dark and quiet on that front.

“Wouldn’t that be the perfect story to give to Mr. Kim,” Sam chuckled softly to himself. “Failed ex-hero burns down asylum in a bid to reignite his career… Marie would kill me…”

The sound of sirens caused Sam to turn his gaze westward, and that’s when he noticed that the western sky was glowing with a fierce orange tinge. Smoke billowed up from somewhere close by.

“Gods, please don’t let that be another alpha-level horror…”

Don’t even think about it, kid…you’re already tired from exploring the haunted zone.

“Master…the job’s bringing hope where we can...remember?”

Hades' bottom… Go, kid…go!