The Final Attempt

His Survival

Here you go, my lovely readers! Enjoy!

Point of View: Third Person

I do not remember how long I have been out here alone. I just remember how long I have been on the run, with or without friendly company.

Eight years.

Immortal because we were all turned immortal before the battle to help our chances.

She laughed at their weak and worthless plan.

It was pointless.

It was reckless.

It got us all in so much trouble.

The Fates wreaked havoc on most of our ranks for her because they went too far.

Few of us escaped with our lives.

Others were not so lucky.

I was with nine others.

Now I am utterly alone.

I am the last free soul from our side.

I am hunted without mercy.

I can never quit running, moving, surviving.

Howls tear through the air.

"Frak me." I hiss and run through the stream cutting a path in the forest. I reach a clearing and slide to a stop, pulling my dagger from my thigh as my worn leather boots tear trails through the dirt and grass.

Many forms fill the clearing.

Wolves.

They growl at me and I snarl back, making them rethink their aggressive and dominant presence. A group of humanoids enter the clearing, one setting his hand on the wolf that has not yet backed down from my challenge.

"You should give it up, boy." The bane of my father, the bane of my people, speaks up first.

"In your dreams, Polybotes." I bristle. "As long as I draw breath, I will never stop fighting."

"Aren't you tired of running?" My eyes land on the King of Werewolves, Lycaon. This is his Pack, all werewolves that are fully capable of tracking me down and capturing me if I am not careful, perfectly cautious in every way.

But his words hit my core.

His voice and tone freeze my soul.

Porphyrion chuckles and I turn my frosty glare on him. "Lycaon, the boy seems to be stuck with you when you speak. It distracts him easily."

I flip the dagger and jam it backwards, making a wolf burst into dust. "Not as easily as you might think. I am not foolish enough to be caught completely off guard, fool King. You are just as arrogant as Zeus." I draw the dagger close to me.

"You really think you're strong enough to take us all on, grandson?" I hear and slowly look over my shoulder. "Surprised?"

I turn halfway, keeping an eye on those amassed to my right as I mainly focus in then to my left. "Kronos..." I shake my head. "They wouldn't..."

"Oh, they did." Kronos smirks. "I feel better than I ever have, to be honest. It has to do with that undying loyalty you showed your dead friend. It purified my soul and then the Fates resurrected me. I can feel your soul's plea to be tethered to someone who will give it true loyalty, the yearning to save those lost to you. I can see it in the flow of time as well. It is so loud. Very hard to ignore, you see. So, I invited Lycaon here to talk some sense into your young and damaged mind."