Work Text:
My fingers wrap around the grip of Coronacht and I feel a shudder course through its metallic frame. It glints an odd shade of violet, the flickering of the green flames obscuring its true hue. I think back to my previous escape attempt and wince at the thought of another triumvirate of Numbskulls gnawing at my legs. With that in mind, I tighten my grip and avert my gaze.
A bright flash engulfs the room as the Heart-Seeking Bow morphs in my grasp. Golden ringlets curl out from both limbs of the bow, and yet it is somehow still light and maneuverable. It’s no longer just glinting, it’s positively shimmering even in the drab, unappealing light of Tartarus. I pull the arrow from its place on the pedestal and nock it in the golden string.
Skelly turns to face me and cocks a non-existent brow. “What’cha doing with that thing, boyo?”
“Let’s find out, shall we?”
I let the first arrow fly and it buries itself in Skelly’s chest, sending him staggering backwards. The arrow disappears into a brilliant dust as he tries to pull it from the wound. He smirks and returns to his usual swaying stance. “Felt nothing there, boyo. That all you got?”
“Not at all.”
I nock another arrow and dive to one side as I let it slip from my fingers. For a moment, the second shot is the same as the first. It flies straight and true, until Skelly and I watch as some invisible blade cleaves it into two, five, ten exact replicas. Three hit their mark, but the other seven miss… at first. They turn around in mid-air, as if guided by the hand of Achilles’ mentor, and decorate Skelly’s back like one of Cerberus’ squeaky toys.
Ever the tragedian, he falls to his knees, bemoaning the death of his ambitions, lost to an early grave, before disappearing altogether. I tap my foot for a few moments until he reappears, fully-formed and ready for action once again.
“That was nothing!” he shouts, goading me into firing a few more shots into him.
I flash him a quick smile and clamber into the window frame. “We can pick this back up later, Skelly. I’m a bit busy at the moment.” I land silently on the warm cobbles below, listening to the steady rush of the River Styx.
The silence is momentary; it’s replaced by a thunderclap and a massive bolt of lightning, culminating in a smaller bolt, suspended in the air just in front of me. I cup it with my free hand and announce, “Olympus, I accept this message!”
“You seem to require my assistance, Nephew!” Uncle Zeus booms through the bolt. He imbues Coronacht with a whisper of his true power; a spark arcs and crackles across my hands and through the frame of the bow. “Let’s see if we can’t get you out of there this time around!”
With the might of both Zeus and Chiron surging through its lightweight construction, the infernal bow makes short work of Tartarus—pinning Wringers to pillars through their palms, riddling with holes the muscular arms and broken manacles of Wretched Thugs, and smashing Brimstones into pink glitter. I come across blessing upon blessing from Lord Uncle Zeus, and grow stronger still.
I cross the threshold into Megaera’s chamber with a smirk and a whirring yellow bloodstone floating in my left hand. “Hey, Meg.”
“Zagreus.” She spits my name at me, equal parts greeting and insult. Her red wing unfurls to its full breadth and our pleasant conversation ends.
She takes the initiative to close the distance between us; with a single wingbeat, Meg flits just above the ground, winding up to pummel me with a flurry of lashes. I dive to one side and let the bloodstone make first contact. It sends a jolt of electricity through her, staggering her mid-swing. I follow up with a well-placed arrow in her left shoulder before she’s able to regain control of her body.
Meg snarls and cracks her whip—warmth trickles down from my neck. “Blood and darkness!”
I decide to indulge Meg’s tacit request for a ranged battle and sprint across the room, keeping a few lengths between us at all times. The spike traps activate, seconds slow, beneath my feet as I let loose my next barrage, ten arrows engulfing her as she seeks a weak spot in my armor. She weaves most of them, nimble as she is, but enough of them hit to rile her up.
Her feet touch the earth for a brief moment before turning the stones beneath into vapor. She screeches and her wing twists in unnatural circles, glowing a vibrant magenta. I’m across the chamber from the nearest pillar and she knows it.
Sinister spheres, channeling the occult, explode across the room in haphazard patterns, which leave me no space to nock an arrow. I send a silent prayer to Olympus and face the orbs head-on, dashing as they make contact and roast my skin. Bolts of lightning trail my strides as I gain on Megaera and put all ten arrows in her chest at point-blank range.
Each arrow is progressively sharper and stronger as it leaves the bowstring, blindingly bright.
Meg shakes her head and falls to her knees, hands clutching her punctured chest. She barely mutters, “Damn you, Zag…” before the Styx reclaims her, its swift current setting her course for a warm welcome from Hypnos and a much colder one from Father.
I sling Coronacht across my shoulder and thank Lord Uncle Zeus for the blessings he’d strewn about the Underworld. I stare blankly at the chamber doors across from me, half-expecting them to refuse to open although I’ve soundly defeated Asphodel’s gatekeeper. And they do, if only for a moment, until I’ve picked up a cluster of darkness that seeps up from beneath the ground.
The massive stone doors slowly grind their way open—the roiling heat of the River Phlegethon instantly swallows the room. I step into the intermediate chamber, heal the multitude of wounds inflicted upon me, courtesy of Dionysus, and yield fully to Asphodel.
“See you soon, Lernie.”