In Pursuit of Kronos' Scythe (Completed)

I - When Kronos Lost His Scythe - Part I

Princess Tharalea

"Calyssa, come back!"

Princess Tharalea yelled after a furry shadow. Lifting her white chiton up, she ran along the meadow, ducking under branches and hopping over chopped stumps. Despite her long dress, she ran fast, thanks to the secret training her father had given her.

Squat. Scan. Scoot. She recalled the catchwords as she advanced further into the woods; the lights from the castle dimming behind her. But even though she had visited the gymnasium daily, running non-stop for fifteen minutes made her exhausted. Bending over her knees and puffing, she narrowed her eyes to search for her cat. Calyssa had seldom been so agitated. They were ambling down the bridge above Moony Lake when the cat broke into a sprint. 

She must've sensed something — a strong aura.

"Calyssa, you fat fur ball, come back! No more cheesecake for you!" 

Tharalea called out again and saw that familiar pair of purple orbs glinting in the darkness. The cat meowed with a tinge of anticipation in her tone, beckoning Tharalea to follow her. Then, with a swift swoosh, she dived deeper into the shrubs. As if knowing her owner would have still stood frozen to the ground with a dumbfounded expression on her face, she glanced back, meowing again; this time her voice trailed away with a note of urgency.

Tharalea could barely see anything but she let her cat's purple eyes guide her. It was near midnight, she had to reach her chamber before the clock struck twelve. Her mother, Queen Critola, wasn't one to mess with. There was a time when Tharalea hiccupped during a royal dinner, and her mother had punished her to read the entire The 10,001 Princess' Etiquette. She dozed off after the first page and was constantly aroused by her mother to keep reading.

"I'm deprived of sleep, mother, and it makes me feel as awful as having to hold my bladder." She complained and earned a secretive chuckle from her maids, followed by a long harangue from her mother. She expected that but her mother's scowl still made her shudder.

She could do anything: clean the stables, weed the field, feed the condors, but not read. Why would a sixteen-year-old princess need to learn about etiquette? She wouldn't reach the marital age in another five years. Her thoughts wandered to the night when she debated with her mother about her own version of 10,001 Tharalea's Theory, and suddenly, she tripped over a log. The sound of fabric being torn made a strike across her heart.

"Oh, mother's going to explode when she sees me." She grumbled on and bumped into something soft. Looking down, she saw her cat standing still on the ground with her bulgy eyes ablaze. "Oh, what—" Tharalea gasped. "That couldn't be possible."

Her jaw almost licked her sandals as she saw the glowing monument in front of her. Calyssa had led her to the pantheon of Hekate, the Goddess of Magic. Tharalea's father, King Aetius, had built ten pantheons in the Realm of Yurithea to worship Hekate; one of them was in the very compound of the castle. Every day, they placed fresh fruits and flowers in the pantheon, praising the goddess, but she never showed up. Tharalea always prayed before the pantheon, asking the goddess to grant her a quest so that she could escape the humdrum life in the castle. The three-faced statue, however, would only stand on the altar, smiling.

Tharalea had almost given up in believing in the goddess, until she appeared before her now, elegant and sophisticated. Her burgundy hair curled to the floor, with the top fraction coiled by jeweled headpieces. Her sleeveless red chitons were held up by golden brooches, designed in the shape of shining suns. Lime green gems were molded into each contour, complementing the matching necklaces. As she moved, her chitons brushed against the pebbles like blossoming flowers. And the goddess wasn't alone. She was talking to a man clad in a midnight shade.