Could you imagine what it must be like, to never know a single thought of love, friendship, kindness, not even family, or where you came from? Not even a language or any form of communication, not even knowing if something else like you existed. For years, a number I don't care to share anymore, it's been so long, that was the story of who, no, what I was. A depraved, savage beast, cursed to the wild skirts of a country yet to be discovered, a beast that no man had ever witnessed, not while breathing. For years this depraved beast was forced to kill, to slaughter, just to survive on the island he had been doomed to for the sins of a life he had no memory of, stripped away from him. To slaughter any, and everything that passed his line of sight, for so long that he'd lost the years that went by, every night a different creature trying to claim his life on this.. carnivorous island, nothing too small or too large to mean the end of his existence, his only food being the left over bodies from meaningless victories. For years he slew whatever beast, monster, or titan came his way, alone with no sense of direction, and no home to speak of for his thoughts to even turn to, wiped, only ever knowing this life from the instant he'd been doomed to this cursed earth. Never knowing any sign of hope, his memories obviously gone from whatever life he had before, replaced with nothing but razor sharp instincts and senses no man could ever dream of, his only weapon being one of the only things no one could ever take away, not with any sort of magic or game, his curse, his trident. Of course there was water which he could always manipulate, and his mind, thou without any happy memories to dwell on, never truly existed, but his trident could never leave him, the single bond, the single happiness he enjoyed.
One fateful night he heard from somewhere deep within his jungle the raging blaze of a fire, the heavy sound of massive ancient tree's falling to the forest floors, the signs of a beast he had never seen on this island yet it threatened the only place he knew to be home. Without even a hint of doubt he moved his trident onto his back and raced up into the tree's, jumping carefully from one to another to move quickly through the forest, carefully listening for any snakes or disguised tree beasts (Those really do exist on this island) along the way. Approaching the area he'd heard the beast, he was frozen, shocked to see not a beast, but another, different sort of man. Curiously he watched as the man turned everywhere he could, scorching the earth and tree's in a frenzy, screaming something as his flames only intensified. Still trying to stay hidden, he pulled his trident from around his back, and slowly let it melt away into water as it wisped away, beginning to twirl in the air slowly beginning to rage before erupting into a wave and dousing the man's flames in his trident before descending down to the leafy floor on which he stood. He slowly encircled the man, with no clue how to communicate with something like himself, taking into careful note everything about it. He wore funny things to cover his body, things wrapped around his waist as thou to hide his hips and thighs, and odd weaved together wood that protected the soles of his feet. The man looked back at him, slowly raising one hand as flames gathered to it, him moving his hand back behind him, the water stopping its raging as the last of the flames of his beloved and yet hated, cursed forest went out, the water gathering behind his hand to form his trident once more. Unsure what to expect, he watched as the golden flames gathered into the man's hand, forming a brilliant, yet blazing red whip. This was the first time he'd ever know a friendship.
The man spent years teaching him how to speak, to communicate with him and use symbols for marking things in a language he called Greek, how to use different weapons, and how to create them using his flame, sharing its secrets, the trident always at his side in case the fire ever went out of control. Every night they went to sleep as the man he came to know as Hephaestus told him stories of back home, of his job as a forger, creating weapons of all different kinds, and of his home, something called a volcano, filled with liquid fire as they ate together, like family. The man came to name him triton, and teach him the long forgotten skills of ancient art and forgery. "Where is Olympus?" Triton asked one night after hearing a story about Zeus and the other dwellers of the once great land fighting off the titans, alongside his son, Hercules. Hephaestus frowned, before looking up into the sky. "This is Olympus. This is all that's left."
Instantly, I, Triton, stood up, looking down on my friend, the one who'd taught me everything, who'd fought alongside me for years now, who I protected and trusted with my life as I had known he did mine. "What about the grand tales of Poseidon! Of Zeus! Everyone who lived there, who fought by your side, where are they now!" I demanded to know, I had every right to know, but his gaze stayed with the stars in the sky, his face no longer a sad expression, but one of some strange feeling, like he was... lost. "I don't know Triton, where did they go?" He asked me, but I simply looked up into the sky, wondering what could of happened? What could of happened that I lost every shred of memory I had, before a life fighting beasts and monsters? I needed to know, where that memory went to, and it must of been written across my face, because as soon as Hephaestus looked at me, he spoke the first words in my lifetime, the first to ever shatter and make me regret my existence. "You, Triton. You were here for last days of Olympus. You were the one, who destroyed this place."
Instantly I fell down onto my knees, my head spiraling out of control. I created a wasteland, a nightmare, my own prison after all these years, and my memory just burned itself away leaving me a brand new life, one no longer worth living to me. I destroyed the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard of in my lifetime, and everyone who lived in it to make it so amazing, and in my savagery, I was too much of a coward to remember. "How do I fix this?" I asked, putting a bit of steel in my already bass filled voice after ions of silence. Slowly he rose, as all the hatred from that first night he'd exploded rose once more, the fire burning within his eyes with the hatred he'd held toward me, the golden flames licking at his hands as they began to form into his whip once again as I closed my eyes, accepting my fate after all these years, the rightful punishment for a being such as me, capable of hurting and killing so many. But my body had other plans. The moment his footsteps came within range, Instantly my hand was rushed through his chest, covered in a mask of water formed into claws, his lips at my ear as tears poured from my eyes, hearing his soft whisper "Chronos is alive, find him." before his body slowly began to fade into a soft, red glow like, like an odd gas before rushing into me, and setting every cell within my body on fire, for the first time letting out an agonizing scream in both pain, and despair for his lost friend. After that night, he left the island, promising never to return again and becoming a wanderer of the world, searching for information of his history, and the mysterious name he'd been left with, Chronos. He learned about the various cultures and beliefs the world had to offer, of gods and religions from every end of the globe, even their languages and customs. He hunted only the most dangerous, the most vile, the most vicious of prey around the world, creatures only thought to exist in legends and children's stories.
