Chapter 3: Start of the Storm

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10 pm, Friday, Piraeus, Athens, At the Marina

Aaron greeted the woman behind the desk, as was standard procedure at the marina. It had been years since he had visited Athens, but the process was essentially the same here as anywhere else. She was old, tired, overweight and grouchy, her thick Grecian accent tainted by years of smoking. In other words: a fairly regular sight for the midnight shift. He paid the woman for single-day docking, promising to be back by the next evening.

-But when he walked away, a cruel smile made its way to his face. The boat he'd left behind had already been loaded with runes that, when activated, would attract lightning from the storm overhead, surely sinking that old boat and all the cruel memories with it.

It had just begun to rain as he pulled into port, and it was getting heavier by the second, but he didn't mind in the slightest. He was far too occupied with his fantasies and anxieties about the coming few hours, even the coming days, to be concerned with the rain he himself had wrought. Lightning struck a tower in the distance, then another, and another.

'I hope you're satisfied, Yani.' He smirked, 'This is one hell of a last job, isn't it?' He chuckled under his breath as he wondered if he hadn't taken things a little too far.

Despite the hour and the fact that tourist season was over, it didn't take long to find a cab, seedy as it was. He went ahead and climbed into the back with his large, black case, which contained his munitions as well as his relic, and he gave the driver the hotel's address. The cabbie seemed to know exactly where it was, and he started off eastward-

"Hey, turn your meter on, asshole. You should know better than to try that shit on a local."

...

Arriving at the Novotel Athenes, Aaron paid the taxi driver the eight euro he owed. Thanking Aaron with that same, spiteful, forced smile he had held the whole ride, the driver turned around in the middle of the thin, two-lane road, forcing some cars to stop suddenly, and drove back the way they came with honking cars as his fanfare.

The thin roads and tall towers of Athens prevented any visibility beyond the street he was on, and the labyrinthine streets made navigation impossible except for those who had lived here all their lives; even maps weren't of much help without careful and thoughtful consideration of every step. Any attempt at exploration or shopping was foolhardy, and so he would remain here, waiting.

He still had about forty minutes before the driver was set to arrive. He found himself tempted to call Jason one more time, but he knew he would just get berated for his worry and politely reminded that every phone call was a chance for Interpol to track their locations. Personally, he was always irritated by Jason's paranoia, but, given the pilot's work and clientele, he couldn't say it wasn't warranted. Even so, Aaron sat down on a bench underneath the hotel's awning. Setting his munitions case on the sidewalk in front of him, but never taking his hand off of the handle, he then tried and failed to relight the damp cigarette he had been smoking in the taxi. Surrendering, he lit a new one, and stared off into his black skies above, plugged in his earbuds, started up some soothing jazz, and finally allowed his mind to slip into a state of relaxation.

...

-He felt the air charge around him. Jumping up with a start, stumbling first into the rain and then into the road, he looked up at the sky, then at the equally black Mercedes which was currently sitting diagonally in the road in order to avoid hitting him- its headlights staring into the hotel. The driver began rolling his window down angrily, and Aaron, in shock, could already feel an apology on his lips before another, clearer thought occurred. He had jumped because the charge was a tell-tale sign of an incoming lightning strike, but the charge hadn't left in spite of his movement. It was different too- similar, but different. The voice of the angry driver drowned out by the rain and still playing jazz, a dramatic tune by Sinatra, he watched as blue static flickered up from the earth, lights flickered on and off, as did car engines, creating a spectacular light show through the rain's refraction.

"What the fu-"

-A searing pain shot in his right shoulder, as if a fire had been placed against his skin. Clutching his arm and gritting his teeth, he fell to his knees with a violent grunt, music suddenly cutting off as his earbuds fell to the ground. He held back screams as red light shined through the edges of his fingers. After mere moments, the light and pain began to fade, both disappearing completely after what was probably less than ten seconds, though the pain made it hard to tell exactly how long it was. As he slowly removed his shaking hands, he saw a strange mark on his shoulder. Red, it resembled an arrowhead with eagle's wings, though it was so abstract that it was impossible for him to tell if there was any specific image it was trying to invoke.

'A Command Seal?! It's too early! What the Hell is-'

"Hey!"

A voice yelled from beside him. The man from inside the car now stood over Aaron.

"What the hell is wrong with you, kid!?" the man shouted at him, a mix of anger and frustrated concern.

Still disorientated, Aaron stood, his voice shaking as much as the rest of his body. "S-sorry! I'm sorry. What's going on?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "How the hell should I know!" He facepalmed before continuing, "You're that Aaron-guy right? Look, Jason had to accelerate the timetables a little bit; you're coming with me now, so hurry up, kid, and try not to jump in front of another car while you're at it, alright?"

He started back towards the car.

His mind finally catching up with his body, Aaron shouted back at the driver, "Wait!"

The man looked back but said nothing.

He grit his teeth, "Give me an hour, or at least thirty minutes, this is an emergency!"

"Look kid-"

"I'm not a kid!"

-And he wasn't. Aaron was in his mid-twenties, but was still a kid in the eyes of the middle-aged driver.

Nevertheless, he had the driver's attention.

"If I don't get a little more time, everything is going to be up in shit, alright!"

Panic was turning in his chest, with the butterflies within threatening to break out of his mouth.

"Fine. Twenty minutes, no more. What do you need exactly?"

Aaron's mind raced, calculating, "The Acropolis! Take me to the Acropolis!"

"You'll be faster walking. Go ahead and I'll meet you-"

But Aaron was already running, grabbing his case as he charged down the slick sidewalk, nearly slipping as he did.

Lights still flickered. Lightning still flashed. He ran by people, some walking, some emerging from stores, others still in their cars or even getting out in the middle of the road to watch the strange spectacle. They didn't concern him, he needed to draw his summoning circle, and he needed to do it now! He couldn't miss his chance, and he couldn't afford to wait any longer. He worried that the using the local leylines may interfere, but that couldn't be the case, not if his command seals had already appeared, right?

What was this magical surge? What was happening? Was this a good sign? 'Did that goddamned circle cause this!?'

As he charged towards the acropolis, only a mile away, everything moved in slow motion except for his mind, which was doing its best to make sense of what he couldn't have understood, but did nonetheless suspect on a certain level:

A Grail War had begun, not in Ireland, but here, in the glorious city of the land of antiquity.

...

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