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“You can do it, Scott!”
“Come on, pretty one!"
Wind charges propelled him back, almost slamming him into the wall as he frantically escaped Owen’s attack. His heart raced, pounding against his chest. He wasn’t used to this… fight. This wasn’t his office.
“You’re fast.” Owen said, taking another swipe with Apo’s sword the moment Scott got close enough to try and attack. Her shield went up, blocking swing after swing after swing.
Scott barely dodged the sword as it came dangerously close to his head. He needed to focus-
“Yeah. You’re… able to control time, so..” He leapt away, the wind whisking around his body. He’d gotten so used to the feeling; the wind at his beck and call. It was… nice, he supposed.
“I needed a champion.”
“So you chose me?”
"You’re a capable woman.”
“... Thanks.”
He felt the eyes of everyone watching him. He should’ve been used to that feeling, at least. A lifetime on the stage, performing for crowds of people…
Why now did he feel so shy?
“You’re putting on a great show!” Shelby called from the stands. It hurt more than it helped.
“I’ve got put on some sort of display, right?"
'Just play along with the audience' He told himself as the battle dragged on. ‘They like it when you do that. Be entertaining, you can.. Do this.’
“You’re doing great for yourself.”
“Come on, Scott!"
“Yeah!!”
“Scott, grab the axe!”
What axe? Scott glanced around, taking advantage of the boost he was afforded thanks to Drift’s powers. What axe? He saw no axe!
No time to think on it. He had to heal, had to win, had to break that shield.
He lunged, striking his blade down upon the shield; leaped back as Owen’s blade sliced his arm open. Scott cried out as the pain shot through him like a dagger. He staggered, falling into the water. The adrenaline was trying to get him to push forward through the molasses that began to cloud his mind as the pain overwhelmed him; he could hear the audience cheering him on.
Scott looked up and met Owen’s eyes. He saw only indifference in those eyes as she slit his throat.
“Scott!”
He was in a field. A beautiful field. Wildflowers and soft grass swayed in time with the wind, dancing to a rhythm unheard by the mortal ear. There was no city or town in sight. Instead, something better. Someone better.
Two men, taller than Scott himself, were running towards him. One had blonde hair comparable to Demeter herself. He wore a chiton adorned with feathers of various birds, and his smile as he embraced the actor was like sunshine personified. The other approached at a slower, but no less eager pace. His long white hair, let loose from its usual tight ponytail, billowed around his shoulders, his bangs covering the ugly scar that branched over his left eye. Scott tried not to sob. He knew that scar anywhere.
“Jimmy… Ethos..” Scott clung to both of his loves as they did to him, finally letting himself sob over the events of the day. Where was he? How were they here? Did it… really matter? “A-Are you guys real?”
“In a way.” Ethos’s soft voice was like a warm blanket, soothing his tired soul. Scott leaned back into the comforting embrace of the warrior.
Jimmy’s lips found their own place upon Scott’s neck, soft and inviting, no heat or passion. Just… love. “We’ve missed you, sunshine.”
Scott choked on a sob. “I’ve missed you too. So… so much.” He looked between them. “Did you make it past the river? I made sure you both had coins; I know how much that meant..”
“We’re in Asphodel.” Jimmy reassured. “You did good. Thank you so much.” He rested his forehead against Scott’s. “I know it was hard.. We’re so sorry.”
Scott sobbed. “I love you. Both of you.”
“We love you too, Scott.” Ethos leaned down and gave him a kiss. Scott didn’t want to leave. Was this Elysium? Was this what he’d missed out on all those years walking by the river?
He clutched onto Jimmy’s chiton, desperate to keep him close. “Don’t make me go back.” He begged.
Jimmy smiled sadly. “Sunshine, you have to go back.”
“I don’t want to.” Scott cried, tremors of old grief starting to rack his body. “I want to stay here with you. Don’t make me leave.”
Ethos took off his wolf-pelt cloak and wrapped it around Scott’s shoulders, pressing another kiss to the top of his head. “You’ll do great things. We’ll be waiting for you.”
The cold chill of the water was what woke him from his death-induced slumber. He was back on the shores of the River Styx, somber and unhappy and lonely as before. Gods dammit. Scott sat up, shivering, and pulled the warm cloak closer around himself. Wait. A cloak?
He looked at the garment in shock. It was the very one Ethos had worn in life, made of the finest wolf-pelt, a gift from a priestess of Hera. He almost wailed as grief clawed its way up his throat and attempted to escape into the world.
But he didn’t.
He simply sighed and got to his feet, shaking the water out of his peplos. “At least this time it was quicker.” He murmured.
On the water’s edge was a familiar boat. Ghostly, ancient, with room enough for only two occupants. The first one was already there, cloaked in shadow so that one could only see the suggestion of a face.
Charon.
Scott approached the boat, his steps heavy. “So,” He spoke. “Let me guess, I just… give you a coin, and you take me back.”
No answer from the spectre.
Scott stood at the bank of the river. How many times had he been here before? Back when he’d first died, he’d begged this man to take him over. He’d wanted to forget it all. Of course, Charon rejected the idea, in his own wordless way. There is no room in Asphodel for those who cannot pay.
“Is there an option to… not?” Still no answer. Scott sighed. “No, I know there isn’t. Alright then.”
He handed over the obol.
“Take me back.”
It was loud in the arena that day, full to the brim with excited spectators, eager to watch the newest prisoner be torn apart. For once, Scott was among them, sitting next to the stoic, grounding presence that was Ethos. He clutched fearfully onto his lover’s arm as the announcers called out, listing the crimes and offenses of each man sent into the arena.
The worst… “Treason against his god, the Rich One!”
Jimmy. Down there was Jimmy. And two… lions…
Scott looked frantically at Ethos. “You said you’d try and buy his freedom!” He whispered, fear gripping him so tight he could barely breathe. Ethos dipped his head, trying to hide his ever expressive eyes from the man who knew him best.
“I failed. I’m sorry, Scott.”
Scott watched in horror as the lions prowled towards their prey, fangs bared, ready to rip flesh from bone. Jimmy backed up as best he could as the crowd jeered. They cheered for his death.
Scott barely registered the tears that had come as Jimmy was torn to shreds. First his jugular, then his thigh, then his stomach, all taken by the lions in their desperate hunger.
Jimmy screamed all the while.
Scott could only watch.
Scott awoke back in the land of the living, gasping for breath. It was morning. Again. And there was someone in his bed. Again.
He glanced over, not incredibly surprised to see Nikos and Cleo curled up together after what was clearly a night of significant enough passion. Scott felt a slight twinge of jealousy, feeling guilty immediately after. What right did he have? He’d given permission to share. He’d literally slept with them the night before.
He was just shaken, surely. Scott got himself up out of bed, pulling the wolf-pelt cloak tight around himself. It was real. Soft and comforting. He sighed, leaning against the railing of his rooftop. The valley below was… gorgeous. Quiet.
Why must they fight, really? To appease the gods? What did this even serve?
He needed to stop asking questions. They only got him hurt.
“Pretty one?”
Scott turned as Nikos’s sleepy voice reached his ears. The champion of Zeus was waking, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Hey, Nikos.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“No, no, do not lie to me. It is not easy to die. Come here.” He motioned for Scott to rejoin him and Cleo in bed. Scott did as requested, sinking into the warm embrace of Nikos. He reminded him of Jimmy, loud and happy and free.
“By the way, your, ah… your chest.” Nikos said, gesturing to where Scott’s boobs should be. Scott realized at that moment that they were gone. “It brought you much pain, so we removed it before they took your corpse.”