Protogenos

Chapter 12: Gold

Chapter 12

Gold

As the new dawn threatened to break over the horizon, the quiet expanse of the meadow was interrupted by the clash of battle. The shrill ring of celestial bronze echoed across the field, harmonizing with the soft rustle of dirt displaced by frantic footsteps.

Nearby, a campfire crackled and popped, its flickering flames casting an erratic glow that danced over the scene, illuminating the battlefield with an orange hue. Long strands of yellow grass, trampled and kicked up by the movement of combatants, floated gently back to the earth, painting an artwork to the ferocity of the fight.

Heavy breathing punctuated the morning air, each breath a prelude to another flurry of movements—parries, thrusts, and strikes performed with a desperate intensity. The sounds of physical exertion melded with the natural chorus of the dawn, creating a symphony of persistence and determination.

As the skirmish continued, the sun began its slow ascent, peeking just above the horizon. Its pale light barely touched the edges of the land, casting long shadows and showering the duelists in a light that seemed to hesitate as if unsure whether to rise fully or sink back beneath the earth.

In the midst of this chaotic ballet, Perseus paused, lowering his arms for just a moment to point a lazy finger toward the emerging sun. His brow furrowed in concentration, his face twisting into an expression of deep thought.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up with recognition, and he shouted, "Hermes!"

At his call, Zoë, her shorter silhouette sharp against the dimly lit sky, exhaled roughly. Her dark chocolate brown bangs, looking almost black in the dim morning light, whipped wildly around her face, giving her a wild, practically feral appearance.

Without hesitation, she launched herself at Perseus once again, her celestial bronze sword gleaming faintly as it sliced through the cool air toward him.

As Perseus casually dodged another attack from the nymph, a voice boomed across the field from where Prometheus reclined against a boulder, observing the skirmish with a mixture of amusement and interest.

"Nay, Your Grace, thou art mistaken!" Prometheus called out, his voice carrying easily over the distance. "The bearer of the Sun Chariot is now Apollo, not Hermes!"

Perseus paused mid-motion, nodding in acknowledgment as he brushed his nose with his thumb, an old habit when corrected or deep in thought.

"Aye, I knew that," he retorted with a grin, skillfully evading another lunge from Zoë. "Twas Helios who bestowed the chariot upon Apollo."

Zoë, frustrated by the casual exchange between the two during their intense duel, growled under her breath. She crouched slightly, her eyes narrowing as she prepared her next move. With a burst of speed, she dashed at Perseus, delivering three rapid slices in a well-practiced combo designed to overwhelm.

Moving with grace that would make the most remarkable acrobat jealous, Perseus managed to slide back, evading the first two strikes. Anticipating the third, he lightly tapped the bottom of the hilt with the toe of his sandal, sending Zoë's celestial bronze sword clattering onto the ground.

The disarm was executed with such finesse and ease that it momentarily stunned Zoë, who stood wide-eyed in surprise.

Smiling broadly, Perseus stepped forward, his expression one of genuine admiration. "I must declare, Zoë, I am most impressed with the swiftness with which thou hast gained mastery of the blade," he complimented, his tone light yet sincere.