“Who’s there?” My eyes flung open to the sound of flapping wings and I burst to my feet. “Show yourself!”

The mountains of the gorge still flanked me on either side. The field of oleanders still rustled behind me. The waves of the rock beach still reached the shore in front of me, tickling my bare feet. But no one stood with me. Atemu, Illias, Cymone and Adon were all gone.

“Do not fear me.” A feminine voice spoke softly behind me and the flapping of wings returned. 

“Who are‒” I turned around to come face to face with a blindfolded woman about two times my height. Her flowing white dress dragged on the rocks behind her. Her whitish, grayish wings extended fully at her back as they fluttered in the wind, along with her long, seamless black hair. She held a basic sword in her left hand and a scale in her right one.

“Greetings, Theophilus.” She half bowed, her wings flapping once with the gesture.

“N-nemesis?” I stuttered. 

“I am known by many names across many cultures.” She smiled. “I’ve come to you in the form of your own culture’s version of justice ‒ balance ‒so that you would recognize me. I am happy you did.”

“Of course.” I fell to my knees and hung my head down, refusing to make eye contact. “I am not worthy to be in your‒”

“You are.”

 “W-why me?”

“I think you know the answer to that question.” Her footsteps approached. “You have revived me. You have freed me from the Persian shackles that bound me.”

“I don’t even know what I did, to be honest.” I shook my head. “And how could you be imprisoned? You’re a god.”

“Even gods can be tricked.” She sighed. “The deceit of humanity has proven this time and time again.”

Her bare feet came into view as I stared at the floor. She then knelt down in front of me, jammed her sword in the sand, and lifted my head up by the chin. I gazed at the white cloth that covered her eyes and my surroundings shifted to a dark room without any furniture or windows. All that existed within it was a single man, kneeling on the carpeted floor. Candles in bronze bowls surrounded him. He had a full beard and his bushy hair fell down to the back of his neck. A headband of gold kept his bangs from getting in his eyes, and all he wore on his body was a light brown belt to cover his groin.

“Who is that?” I asked.

“Just watch.” Nemesis set her finger over her lips.

The man threw his hands in the air and started chanting. The candles grew brighter and brighter until they roared straight up to the ceiling, then extinguished. A winged woman in a white dress ascended into the room from the floor.

“Oh great Nemesis.” The man groveled, then stood up. “Thank you for answering my call.”

“It is my pleasure, Cyrus.” The goddess bowed. “You are my champion, after all.”

“Wait.” I whispered to the other version of Nemesis who stood right next to me. “Is that Cyrus as in Cyrus the Great? The first Persian king? And you bestowed your powers unto him?”

“Just.” She turned my head back to the scene. “Watch.”

“Indeed I am.” Cyrus stood up, an aura of sapphire-blue, translucent energy surrounding his entire body. “But I’m afraid there’s been a slight change of plans.”

Nemesis tilted her head.

“I’ve lived in your shadow for too long.” The Persian king’s glowing sapphire eyes flickered, then turned a dark purple. “It is time for me to extend Persian rule myself. Without your constraints.”

“What have you done…” The goddess stepped back when tendrils of dark purple energy shot up from the ground and wrapped around her. 

“I have dissected balance.” The blue aura around him transformed into a dark purple one. “And I have mastered corruption.”

“You don’t understand.” Nemesis squirmed in the tentacles, to no avail. “Without balance‒”

“That’s enough of this.” Present-day version of the goddess seized my arm and the scene melted away as we returned to the gorge of Agiofarago. “Cyrus was aided by Artemisia’s grandmother in hatching a plan to capture me, and in return for her aid, the Persian would grant her and her bloodline the ‘gift’ of corruption. Thus, he severed balance to gain more raw power, and damned me and the rest of his bloodline in the process. Or so I thought.”

“So when I cleansed Atemu…” My voice trailed off in thought.

“You accessed purity, corruption’s counterpart, restoring balance and liberating me.” She nodded as she pulled her sword from the sand. “But both Artemisia of Halicarnassus and King Xerxes of Persia still wield corruption alone, weakening me. Each of them use this power to further their own agendas, and they must be stopped.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“What must be done.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“You must wake up.” She thrashed her wings, sending a powerful gust of wind at me. “Wake up!”

The gust clobbered me, sending me flying into the sea. As soon as my back hit the water, everything went black for a moment, and then my eyes burst open again to see Adon hovering over me. 

“He’s awake!” The necromancer called out  behind him, then returned his attention to me. “Hey, kid. You had us worried there.”

Sweat blanketed my body as I hyperventilated. 

“Whoa.” Cymone approached me with a grin. “I dig the new outfit. And the weapons. And the tat.” 

I sat up to look at myself. Buskins covered my feet and sapphire blue plated armor adorned my calves, thighs and forearms. A girdle of the same color was cinched around my waist. I patted down my chest, which was bare, and felt scar tissue.

“What’s on my…” I stood up and ambled over to the crystal clear water to look at my reflection. A tattoo of a scale spanned my entire torso. The base rested just under my belly button, and the center shaft traveled up the center of my stomach and chest, stopping at my collar bone. The beam extended across the latter, with either one of the scale’s strings starting at my shoulders and going down my arms. The weighing pans at their ends covered the backs of my hands.

“In case you were wondering.” Cymone spoke up. “The same exact tattoo is on your back, or at least, the middle part of it is. The base, shaft, and beam are all there, and the beam connects to the strings on your arms on both your front and back.”

My gaze drifted down to my hips. A sword was sheathed on my left side, and a whip hung on my right one.

“Looks like Nemesis paid you a visit.” Illias’ came up to my left. “You got the sword, whip and scale. All you’re missing is a blindfold.”

I blinked rapidly to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. “You’re on your feet again. Glad to see it.”

“I’ve been good for a while now.” He replied. 

“You have?” 

“Sure we have!” Atemu strolled up to my right side.

“How long have I been out?” I rubbed my head.

“Week and a half.” The priestess sighed. “The blood moon is in two days.”

“What?!” My eyes widened. “Why did no one wake me up sooner?”

“We tried.” Illias shook his head. “On the bright side, Cymone has been teaching me in the ways of blood moon magic this past week.”

“We’ve also been raiding certain outposts of the cult of Artemis to weaken them the best we could.” Atemu shrugged. “We also managed to assassinate one of the other members of Artemisia’s council of four.”

“Alright look.” Cymone grabbed my shoulder and turned me around to look at her. “I know you just woke up from some kinda metamorphosis or whatever, but we’re two days out from the blood moon and we have no idea where Artemisia is. My original plan has gone to crap and we need to start gathering our allies for war. We need to issue a call to arms. Be ready to leave in five.”

She stormed off into the field of oleanders.

“She’s just a bit anxious about the whole situation.” Atemu set her hand on my shoulder. “We all are, honestly.”

“Guys…” I slid my shoulder away from her, causing her hand to fall back to her side. “Just because Nemesis came to me and I underwent a transformation doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven myself for what I’ve done to you two. I don’t think I ever can.”

“The only ones who can truly hurt you are those that are closest to you.” Illias looked away from me. “And those that are closest to you are the hardest to forgive.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“But.” He continued. “If you promise to work on forgiving yourself, then I promise I will work on forgiving you too. Holding grudges is no way to live, especially with the impending war threatening to cut our time short.”

He walked away before I could respond. 

“You know.” Atemu folded her arms. “When I met you guys I always thought your friend was just a goofball and that you were just a shy kid who struggled with confrontation and making his own decisions. But now it’s pretty obvious he’s more than that. And so are you.”

“Atemu, I‒”

She leaned in and kissed my cheek. “I forgive you, by the way.”

And with that, she followed Illias into the field of oleanders.

“They’re going to get our supplies gathered.” Adon beckoned me to him with a wave. “Let us join them. We have a lot of work to do in a short period of time.”

I nodded and approached him as he stood at the entrance to the meadow.

“And don’t expect any kisses on the cheek from me.” He elbowed my side as he chuckled. “I’m not the emotional type.”