CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTEEN

The Origins of Tragedy, Part 2

Much, much later, after the sun had already set, Mother Malta stepped out of the Gates of Argus to meet the Shepard family. But Serena wasn’t with her.

“Your Excellency,” Steven bowed his head.

Adele did the same, although she was quick to raise her head again and ask, “Did something happen? Where’s Serena?”

Even Sam looked up expectantly at the high priestess, and he was quick to pick up on how old she suddenly looked. A pale, grave face looked down at Sam, and he knew instantly that something had gone terribly wrong.

Oh, no… Please, gods, don’t let this be bad news, he prayed.

“I am truly sorry,” Mother Malta said in a gloomy voice that had lost some of its authority. “Your daughter—”

“No,” Adele whispered.

Steven held his wife as she began to shake in place. Tears started to roll down both their cheeks.

“W-what happened?” he asked.

“The gift… it was too strong, and neither her body nor her mind could endure it,” Mother Malta explained.

It was rare, but there had been times in recorded history where a god’s gift proved too strong for the gifted—and death was the only result of such an ill paring.

“No, no, no…” Adele said, shaking her head as she did.

“Your daughter is dead,” Mother Malta said as she lowered her head.

“No!” Adele howled.

If Steven wasn’t holding onto her, Sam thought that his mother might have attacked the high priestess then and there.

“Where is Serena?!” Adele screamed.

The anger flowed out of her in an aura of power that made Sam weak in the knees. This energy continued to spread out in waves so that he was thrown back by its force. His father just barely managed to keep his footing though.

“Where is my daughter?!” Adele repeated.

Although her clothes billowed behind her, Mother Malta stood undisturbed in her penitent pose as if she wasn’t at all bothered by the terrible wrath that might be flung her way. Her acolytes felt differently.

None of them were strong enough to approach Adele while her power seemed to be on the verge of going nuclear, but they yelled for Sam’s mother to “Cease this shameful display of disrespect!” while the rougher-looking acolytes had brought out weapons they’d kept concealed under their robes.

“Adele!” Steven yelled as he too was being pushed back by her power. “You’re hurting Sam!”

That quelled the storm of rage she’d unleashed. Suddenly, Adele was on her knees, her hands wrapped tightly around her thirteen-year-old son. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I-I’m alright, mom,” Sam promised.

His assurances did nothing to stop her from repeating those words over and over again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Steven spent a long time gazing at his wife and son—with his face turning slowly from sorrow to concern—before he addressed the high priestess who’d remained unmoving throughout this tragic display. “You said everything would be alright… that the goddess would provide her chosen with worthy gifts… I assumed that meant these gifts were something each blessed could handle—was I wrong?”

Even angry, Sam thought his father sounded restrained. Like he was still playing at being one of the world’s best mediators. A man who could see past his grief to think rationally.

“No, you’re not wrong,” Mother Malta answered. “This doesn’t usually happen… the goddess… she…”

Mother Malta let out a sigh, and it seemed to Sam like she couldn’t say a single bad word about her patron. That just reinforced Sam’s belief that this goddess was a really crappy one.

She took Serena from us… She’s the worst god in the cosmos, he thought.

Sam tasted something salty on his lips. That’s when he realized that he had been crying too. This realization sent him plunging into a sea of deep sorrow which he was instantly drowning in. To keep himself afloat, he wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck and wept openly.

Things seemed almost a blur after that.

His father scolded the high priestess for failing to protect his daughter. Steven got so angry that he’d forgotten his moniker for just a moment and punched the acolyte who’d tried to get between him and Mother Malta.

His mother’s hand reached out for the strangely-shaped gates they’d dragged Serena into. Adele screamed obscenities at Mother Malta and her acolytes, claiming that they knowingly hurt Serena because she’d been ‘his’ descendant, and everyone knew that the goddess hated ‘his’ bloodline more than anything.

Sam didn’t have a clue who this ‘his’ was, but everyone around him seemed to understand. Mother Malta vehemently denied Adele’s claim though.

“Don’t lie, you old hag!” Adele spat. “You and your followers have dogged me all my life because I carry his blood in my veins!”

The unveiled contempt his mother had for the temple was surprising to Sam because non-believers were usually shunned by the hero community. Adele wasn’t exactly a non-believer though. She just hated this particular temple and its patron to the point that she’d been reluctant to bring Serena at all. It had been Steven who’d insisted they answer the summons.

“Your zealots took my parents from me,” Adele continued hysterically, “and now… now… now… you’ve taken my daughter too!”

“I am sorry this happened, but the goddess—”

“Hera is a spiteful creature who cares for nothing—no one—but herself!” Adele snapped. “You serve a feckless god, you godsdamn fool!”

“Blasphemy!” One of the acolytes yelled although he was quickly silenced by the look of anger on Mother Malta’s face.

“All mothers are protected here… Adele Shepard has every right to grieve in whatever way she wants,” Mother Malta snapped.

“Serena…” Steven could barely utter her name. “Can we see her, please?”

Mother Malta gazed at him with pity before shaking her head. “I’m sorry… The body is currently filled with celestial energy that would be harmful to the outside world. It must first undergo a cleansing process before it is returned.”

At her words, Sam’s mother broke down. She fell to her knees. His father quickly dropped to her side and wrapped his arms around her. All Sam could do was watch as they wept for their lost child.

Later. Much, much later. After his mother and father had shed way too many tears, they took Sam out of the temple and back to their home where this nightmare of a day would continue. Because that same night, unable to endure the death of her child, Sam’s mother would give in to her grief and become corrupted by dark things.

“Is this you?” Adult Sam asked as he watched the scene that put an end to his childhood from a high vantage point. “Did you send me here?”

“I thought your mind needed some perspective,” Apollo answered.

The sun god with the wavy blonde hair was grinning at Sam while they floated in the air above a scene Sam wished he’d never witnessed.

“I don’t need to see this again,” Sam said as he turned away from this darkest of past visions. “Send me back.”

“Are you sure you’re ready, Sammy?” Apollo asked in a surprisingly concerned tone. “This is some heady stuff that even makes gods like me all teary-eyed. I’m surprised your therapy only lasted a year after this incident.”

Sam glared at Apollo. “What, you think my family’s tragedy is some kind of drama for you gods to enjoy? Is that all we are to you—entertainment?!”

He could see it clearly in Apollo’s face. That guilty look people get when the truth is thrown in their faces.

“Sammy”—Apollo raised his hands in surrender—“I’m not the enemy here.”

He pointed a finger down at the scene below, brightening it up like his hand was a spotlight.

“That’s your enemy right there,” Apollo said.

Sam glanced down and frowned.

He’d seen this scene before, of course. But from a perspective of a child sneaking into his parents’ room to check on his grieving mother. Not from on high like he was now, which is when Sam realized that what he thought was simply a mental breakdown resulting in the creation of an alpha-level horror wasn’t as simple as he’d first imagined.

Adele was weeping in her bed, but she wasn’t alone. The bedroom floor was gone, replaced by a pool of inky blackness that reminded Sam of the Abyss he’d once fallen into. From this same darkness came a hollow voice that wasn’t exactly familiar to him, but was similar enough to one Sam had heard inside the void that it was easy to believe that the two beings might have been related.

This voice—a scratchy and malevolent female-sounding one—called out from the depths of that inky blackness to whisper dark things into Adele’s ears.

Give in to your sorrow… and I will give you vengeance, it whispered.

Sam watched as his mother tried to resist. Adele was strong. Even in her grief, she tried to fight off the tendrils of shadow that clung to her body.

You of all people know that the gods are feckless beings. They do not deserve your faith in them, said the hollow voice. Serve me instead and I promise your daughter’s death will be avenged.

“No,” Adele said, although her quivering voice was barely a whisper.

Sam could see it in her face. His mother’s resolve was weakening. She would give in soon. He shut his eyes. He couldn’t watch this moment even though he was forced to listen to it a second time.

Just give in to your sorrow… and I will give you the power to bring even the gods low.

“Y-yes,” Adele whispered, causing Sam’s brow to furrow when he too whispered, “Don’t mom… don’t.”

However, she was already broken. With a final, desperate, mournful cry of passion, Adele Shepard would be no more.

A familiar black cocoon of psychic energy wrapped around Adele’s body, and that’s when little Sam walked into the room. Seeing his mother’s transformation into a horror of great despair that would later cause him so much pain, little Sam screamed. The adult Sam floating above screamed along with him.