The temple doors opened with a soft creak, the sunlight spilling into the grand hall and illuminating the intricate carvings on the stone walls. Helena turned her gaze toward the entrance, her presence commanding even in silence. Two figures stepped inside—both women, both warriors, yet strikingly different from one another.
The first was tall and muscular, her red hair tied back in a tight braid. Her emerald green eyes were sharp, calculating, and they locked onto me the moment she entered. She carried herself with a certain defiance, her movements deliberate, purposeful. This must be Lyra. Even without knowing her, I could feel the weight of her judgment in her gaze. She was sizing me up, and from the slight curl of her lip, it was clear she wasn’t impressed.
The second woman was older, more reserved, her brown hair streaked with silver. There was a calmness to her, a quiet strength that radiated from her every step. Her eyes, though kind, held a weight—a history, perhaps—that seemed to ground her in a way that went beyond mere experience. This was Althea. I could tell she had seen battles, real ones, and the way she moved told me she was always ready for another.
Helena stepped toward them, her voice cutting through the silence. "Nyssa, meet Lyra and Althea. They will take you to the armorer and begin your training."
I nodded, my heart still pounding from the transformation ceremony, but there was no time to dwell on the strange new power coursing through my veins. I had a lot to prove—and, judging by Lyra’s glare, a lot to overcome.
Lyra stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as they swept over me, clearly unconvinced. "I’ll be honest," she began, her voice edged with disdain. "I don’t care who you were. You’ve got a lot to prove, Nyssa." The way she said my name, as though it were a question rather than a title, stung. "Being a reincarnation of Nyxandra doesn’t mean anything if you’re not worthy of the Aegeans now."
I clenched my fist, instinctively raising it to my chest in the Aegean salute, the metallic clink of my bracers a reminder of my new form. "I understand," I replied, meeting her gaze with steady resolve. "But I’m not here to be anyone’s past—I’m here to earn my place."
Althea, who had been observing in silence, stepped forward. Her voice was calm, gentle even, but there was steel beneath it. "We’ve all had something to prove, Lyra. Some more than others." She glanced at me and then back to Lyra, as if reminding her of her own beginnings. There was something unspoken between them—a shared history, perhaps. "But we’re here for a reason, and we don’t choose who joins us. That’s up to the Matriarch."
Lyra’s expression hardened, but she remained silent. It was clear she wasn’t going to argue with Althea in front of Helena.
Althea turned her attention to me, and for the first time, I saw a hint of a smile. "Come, Nyssa," she said, beckoning me forward. "We’ll get you equipped. You’ll need more than just the ceremonial armor if you’re going to train properly."
As we left the temple, the city unfolded before us once more, its stone streets alive with the bustle of activity. Lyra walked ahead, her movements precise, almost aggressive, while Althea fell in step beside me. There was a calm to Althea’s presence, an air of understanding that made the energy between us less tense.
"You’ve already met some of our sisters," Althea began, her tone conversational. "But there’s much more to learn here—about us, about our ways." She glanced at me, her expression soft but unreadable. "I was once like you, you know. New, unsure of where I fit."
I raised an eyebrow, glancing at her. "Really?"
She nodded, her eyes reflecting a distant memory. "I wasn’t always Althea. I was once... different." There was a pause as her words hung in the air, and I understood what she meant without her needing to elaborate. She, too, had been transformed—reborn into this sisterhood just as I had been. The faintest trace of her former self lingered in her voice, like an echo of a life she had left behind. "Becoming one of the Aegeans isn’t just about strength. It’s about purpose, and finding your place in this world."
We walked in silence for a few moments before she spoke again, her voice dropping to a more personal tone. "I was born in 1943 in the United States, raised in a small town in Michigan. Back then, my name wasn’t Althea." She chuckled softly. "I was Alfred Ward."
I blinked, stunned by the revelation. "You... you used to be a man?" The words felt clumsy coming out, but Althea’s easy smile showed that it didn’t bother her.
"Yes," she replied simply, the weight of it seeming lighter on her shoulders than I expected. "I served in the U.S. Navy during the 1960s. Joined right out of high school in ’61, back when the world seemed a lot more straightforward."
I couldn’t help but be curious. "What happened? How did you end up here?"
Althea’s gaze shifted, her eyes focused on some distant memory. "It was 1967. My ship was caught in a terrible storm while on patrol near the Aegean Sea. We’d been tracking Soviet subs, and the weather turned faster than anyone could have predicted. I was thrown overboard, lost in the chaos."
"And then?"
"And then," she said with a faint smile, "I should’ve drowned. But when I woke up, I was on the shores of this island, found by the Aegeans. They gave me a choice—embrace their ways, or try to find my way back to a world that had probably already left me behind."
"And you chose this," I said, the pieces falling into place.
Althea nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Becoming Althea was... liberating. I let go of Alfred and everything that came with him. I became something more." She paused, looking at me with those soft, knowing eyes. "It’s not easy to change, Nyssa. But it’s necessary. You’ll find your way, just as I did."
Her words resonated with me, echoing deep within my soul. I was beginning to see how much she and I had in common. We were both lost at one point, searching for something greater, and now, we were here.
We arrived at the armory, a sprawling building of stone and steel where rows of weapons and armor glinted in the morning sun. Inside, the armorer—a tall, imposing woman with weathered hands—greeted us with a nod. Lyra took the lead, her posture stiff, her eyes still casting judgment in my direction.
"Let’s see if you can handle this," Lyra said, gesturing to a rack of weapons. She pulled down a spear, its blade gleaming dangerously, and tossed it to me without warning.
I caught it easily, the weight of it almost too light in my hands. I could feel the power in my grip, the ease with which I could wield it. The sensation was strange—new yet familiar, as though I had always known how to handle such a weapon. Lyra’s eyes narrowed at my reaction, and I could see her frustration building. She wanted me to struggle, to prove her doubts right, but I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
"Not bad," I said, testing the balance of the spear in my hand.
Lyra’s lips twitched in displeasure. "Don’t get cocky," she warned. "Strength is only part of it. You’ll need more than that to survive training."
"She’s right," Althea interjected, though her tone was far less biting. "Strength without control is dangerous. But you’ll learn."
Lyra crossed her arms, her gaze never leaving me. "We’ll see about that."
I wanted to push back, to challenge her directly, but I held my tongue. There would be time to prove myself. For now, I needed to learn.
After selecting my gear—a sword, a dagger, and the spear I’d grown fond of—we made our way to the training grounds. The open field was alive with activity, warriors practicing in pairs, the sound of clashing metal filling the air. In the distance, I saw women lifting massive boulders, their movements powerful and precise.
"Here’s where it starts," Lyra said, her voice low. "You’ll train until you’re broken. And then, you’ll train more. The Aegeans aren’t immortal, despite what the legends say. We live longer than most, yes, but we bleed, we tire, and we die. You’ll have to be more than strong to survive."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "And just because you were someone important in the past doesn’t mean you’re important now. I don’t care about your history. I care about what you prove here."
Lyra’s words stung, but I kept my expression neutral. She was right, in a way. I had to prove myself in the present, not rely on the echoes of who I once was.
"Are you ready?" Althea asked, her gaze softening
as she looked at me.
I nodded, gripping the spear tighter. "I’m ready."
The first exercise seemed simple enough. Lyra pointed to a massive stone resting at the edge of the training ground. It had to weigh at least a hundred pounds, maybe more. "Throw it," she said, her tone dismissive. "Let’s see what you’ve got."
I didn’t hesitate. Walking over to the boulder, I crouched down, grasping its rough surface. It was heavier than it looked, but there was an unfamiliar strength surging through my muscles. With a deep breath, I lifted the stone, feeling the power in my legs and back. My body responded effortlessly, as though I’d done this a thousand times.
With a grunt, I heaved the boulder into the air. It soared higher than I expected, arcing through the sky before crashing down fifty feet away. The ground shook from the impact.
A stunned silence fell over the training ground. All eyes turned to me, including Lyra’s. Her expression was unreadable, but there was no denying the look of surprise in her eyes. Althea gave a quiet nod of approval, her lips curving into the faintest smile.
"Not bad," Lyra muttered, her voice tight. "Not bad at all."
I straightened, my chest rising and falling with the exhilaration of the moment. I had barely tapped into the strength coursing through me, but even so, I felt more alive than ever. This was just the beginning.
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