Horicuses' Quest

         Sparta was thriving; the slaves were running about, carrying their master’s belonging to the huge Spartan warship waiting at the port to depart to Messenia and fight. The olive trees swayed in the breeze, encircling the stone buildings they resided by, looking out into the Ionian Sea. Then, he stepped into the square, as everything went silent, no more running, no more training, no more anything. Silent. You could have heard anything.



         His name was Horicus. He had eyes as brown as the trunks of the sacred laurel tree, with hair to match. He was taller than most of the warriors of Sparta, but matched their size. The scar across his left temple bulged a bit, a memory of past battles. Never was he seen without his armor, a golden brass breastplate, greaves and helmet, the horsehair moving slightly in the breeze. In his hand was his only protection, a metal shield that had seen better days, with numerous dents and scratches across the worn-out metal and leather. To match, holstered in his leather belt, was an iron sword, glinting in the sunlight, itching to be used. He was bursting with pride and power as he walked; shoulders back, showing he knew what he was doing and that people are below him.          



The people in the square looked in awe as he walked, toward the warship, getting ready to depart. Everyone wanted a glimpse of him; after all he was Sparta’s best warrior, their hero. Then, he was pulled into the ocean, by an invisible force only caused by a single non-human thing. Poseidon. He tried to fight but he stopped; a strange force had overpowered him, as he then felt calm and let the watery cloak of Poseidon wrap itself around him.          



He appeared again into a small chamber, all black and made of stone, to be seen before Poseidon, sitting in his throne in the dimly lit room. “Horicus,” spoke out Poseidon, staring him down, “I have a quest for you that will lead to a difficult journey ahead. You must kill Arachniopos the horrid four-legged crawling monster terrorizing Athens, if you prove to me you have done this, I will prove you worthy of being my son or at least a relation.”  He explained, “If you fail, certain death may await.” ‘Thank-you for this quest, I swear on the river Styx I will kill this horrible beast!” shouted Horicus as he felt his veins pumping with bravery, “I will!” Horicus turned on his heel to leave and noticed the door that had not been there before. He left through the door and after a few short flights of stairs, found himself back on the docks of Sparta.          



“I have been given a quest,” he announced, “by Poseidon, to kill Arachniopos, the crawling beast terrorizing Athens!” The gathering crowd gasped in shock for nobody who was sent to kill Arachniopos had never come back, at least in one whole. The people of Sparta didn’t want to lose their best warrior so they sent him off with the best weapons they had, a silver steel shield, a full set of the best quality bronze armor and a gold handled steel forged sword. “May the gods be with you” bidded the people of Sparta, as he was off to kill the beast.          



Horicus preferred to walk the long distance to Athens so he started walking and after 14 days and 14 nights of walking Horicus collapsed with exhaustion a short while away from Athens, in a small patchy forest area.  It was lush and there were pine trees everywhere stripped of branches halfway up, the forest floor was covered in their dead pine needles and dirt. A small stream ran, algae infested with a pebble shore. A small rabbit sat drinking from the creek as Horicus tried to hit it with his sword, longing for the rabbit’s meat, for he had not eaten in days. But, being too weak, Horicus missed bringing his sword down next to the rabbit, missing slightly. He slumped down in defeat as the rabbit ran to cover.          



Then, materializing out of the brush came Vulcan, the Fire God.  He had fiery red hair and a beard, dressed in a slightly yellowed fire orange toga with a flaming sword in his hand. “Horicus” he boomed “I know of your quest, Poseidon is my uncle, which makes you my cousin.” “Hmm” exclaimed Horicus “but why have you found me?” “I have come to assist you, as you must know, I rule fire, and am the weapon maker for Olympus. I have forged this sword of fire for your use, it shall only respond to your voice.” “Thank you, sir, but I shall need no help” Horicus said full of newfound confidence “I shall not use it on my quest to slay the beast for I have the best weapons in Sparta.” “Is it really the best you can get?” replied Vulcan with a snide tone in his voice, as he walked back into the brush, dropping the sword never to be seen again. Horius jealously picked up the sword comparing it to his and laughing. “It may not be as good as mine, but he left it here anyway” he spoke to himself. This encounter had given young Horicus a surge of energy as he leapt to his feet and started to sprint the short distance to Athens.          



Athens looked beautiful with its stone buildings and white marble looking out into the blue Mediterranean Sea. The stone roads were filled with people selling goods. The marketplace was stuffed with Athenians, dancing, singing and discussing politics. The sounds of laughter and screaming filled the air while their children were playing tag a short distance away. The port was filled with people trading with the visiting merchants while the people listened to the dramatic play going on around the columns in the theater. It seemed, as nothing was wrong as Horicus stepped into the square and approached an elderly lady in the square.  “I have been sent on a quest” he started “by Poseidon, to kill-“ “I know why you are here” spoke the elderly lady; she had an odd eerie tone to her voice “you have come to kill Arachniopos, the beast.” “How did you know?” speculated Horicus. “Well, why else would a Spartan warrior be in Athens at this time of war?” “True. That is my task, where shall I find him?” “Up in the mountains, in a cave as black as death” she replied, pointing up to the mountains. She wished him good luck and sent the strange man on his way, up towards the mountains and towards certain death.          



After a long hike up to the mountains Horicus found the cave the old lady had spoke of, it had a tall opening were when you went inside, couldn’t see your own hand in front of you face. As Horicus walked into the mouth of the cave, the sword Vulcan had given him started to glow, brighter and brighter like the fiery sun itself until the whole cave was lit with a bright orange-yellow light.  “Amazing” said Horicus, dazzled by the weapon “I thought this piece of metal was useless!” He trekked farther into the cave seeing the carcasses of small animals and occasionally a deer. This frightened Horicus a bit, for he had only known of humans being the only one to kill deer. Then, he saw it, about 2 running lengths away, a strange creature crawling on four legs with forest green colored hair covering its back and a burgundy underbelly containing a huge mouth with yellowed teeth dripping with bright yellow venom, ready to strike at any second. It appeared not to have any visible eyes, so Horicus approached it carefully not to disturb it from its current task, devouring the abdomen of a large stag. When, being only two footsteps away, the monster leapt at Horicus digging the unseen claws on each of its four limbs into Horicuses flesh, its oversized teeth trying to dig into his chest. Horicus screamed, flinging the monster into the cave wall and heard a satisfying thud. With that he approached cautiously not wanting to replay the previous events. His arm throbbed as he witnessed a huge swollen green welt starting to form on both of his upper arms where the monster had dug his claws into him. The monster flipped over and turned to face Horicus as it filled its veins with venom and fury. Horicus smiled, for he thought the attack had weakened and disarmed the monster. It leaped, targeting Horicuses’ head for his attack but as missed slightly as Horicus swiftly lunged out of the way, hurling himself to the ground.          



As Horicus was scrambling to regain his balance, he noticed something; the beast had its legs sticking out at an odd angle, almost like a spider. Its knees were higher up than the rest of its legs, giving it a weak spot. Then, he rolled out of the way, seconds before the strange creature jumped onto the place he was laying mere seconds before. Grabbing Vulcan’s sword from the ground, Horicus sliced through Arachniopos’s leg, right at the knee, letting the withered limb fall to the cave floor. The monster screamed, a high-pitched cry of defeat as it shrunk away into the shadows. “There!” shouted Horicus, holding the sword above his head, “The foul beast shall perish before morning for it will never recover from such an injury!” He picked up the small limb retracted the moment he touched it. A burning sensation ran through his arm, an effect of the animal’s venom. Horicus wondered how he would get the leg back to Poseidon until he spotted the patch of moss sitting on a rock. He picked some and made a terribly woven handle to hold the limb with. Horicus picked up the limb with his new invention, careful not to come in contact with the surface and started back to Sparta.          



It took Horicus 2 full days to hike down the mountain, for defeating Arachniopos had been very tiring. When he go back to Athens, the people thanked him and he caught a smile from the old lady at the market place. She gave him a loaf of bread and some olive oil to replenish his energy on the way back to Sparta. Horicus started to walk the long journey to Sparta and after the first day he came to the forest where he first met Vulcan. He was still carrying the sword for he was now proud of it because he used it to kill Arachniopos and would use it as a visual demonstration in his heroic tale. There was no site Vulcan had even been there so he sat down to eat his bread. Then, as it had started it was expected to end the same way, once again pulled into the watery depths of the small river that stood in the forest, possessed by Poseidon. He appeared, for the second time, in front of Poseidon in the small black chamber. “Horicus” said Poseidon, speaking in a voice with a hint of pride “I have heard word that you have defeated Arachniopos, is that true?” “Yes,” replied Horicus “the beast has been slayed and I have brought one of its limbs for proof.” He pulled the mangled limb out of his belt and carefully handed it to Poseidon. He took it, immune to the dripping yellow venom. “You have completed an amazing task and have not been dragged to the gates of the Underworld as many others have. Maybe you are my son after all.” “Thank you sir, I am of the highest amount of gratitude to you.” spoke Horicus

“Go, you have a life to live” boomed Poseidon as he sent him off to the surface.          



Horicus was filled with pride as he started his walk back and hiked the same 14 days and 14 nights back to Sparta. When he arrived the town looked the same as always, and he settled down quickly. He was showered with gifts by his fellow townspeople, for he was never expected to return. He showed his fiery sword, now with an internal glow, that ‘he’ forged out of a piece of steel in the woods after being attacked by a bear. They listened to his whole story, content and over-emotional with pure interest in him. He was asked for his hand in marriage by many of the town’s maidens but refused, wanting to live the single life.          



Many years had past since his adventure and Horicus was enjoying his life at home, with his slaves to cater to his every want and need. He was still alone and had died out (somewhat) as a hero, but his legacy was always carried on. While going on a walk one fine sunny summer day, Horicus noticed something was off. The sea breeze was a bit too strong and the waters a bit too calm. He had heard a shopkeeper in Athens mysteriously died. In an instant, he was pulled into the waters, expecting another quest from Poseidon but was wrong. He thrashed out and fought the water, as he was pulled deeper, deeper into the black depths that imprisoned him. The water filled his mouth, his ears, he couldn’t see, blackness surrounded him. Then, he heard Poseidon voice roar “You told me it was dead, the task was done! You insulted my nephew! A God!” Horicus tried to explain, to fight for himself but it was too late, before he knew it he was in front of the gates of the Underworld.          



His legacy was kept and he was known as a foolish man who lied to Poseidon about a completed quest. Some details may have been lost in translation, what happend to his sword, how he got it, why the monster didn't die. It was not immortal, nor was Horicus. But one thing stayed the same. Poseidon drowned his own son. A demi-god.