“Welcome to All-for-You Shop!” A warm voice rose from
inside, lilting with odd rhythm.
Behind the counter stood a goat-legged man in a neat jacket,
spectacles sliding down his nose. He grinned, barely taller than Amelinda.
“First-timers?”
“Yeah,” Gwen said, smirk in place, confidence dripping like
he already owned the room.
“Hippocoon first-years, I’d guess.” The man’s eyes twinkled.
“I’m Chun. Call me your guide.”
The dingy alley dissolved behind them. In its place
stretched a vast marble hall lit by golden lamps that hummed softly overhead.
Racks of jewel-toned clothes gleamed, mirrors multiplying the space. The air
carried the polished tang of fresh wood.
Heracles narrowed his eyes. Threads of light shimmered
faintly across some fabrics—wards, maybe. He drifted closer to Amelinda,
fingers brushing the scroll in his pocket.
Amelinda’s gaze skipped from ruby silks to sapphire gowns,
her grin bright but tremoring. “This place is unreal,” she breathed, awe
shadowed by doubt. Did she really belong here?
“Told you it’d be a showstopper.” Gwen’s tone was smug, like
he’d wagered on it.
Chun tapped a hoof, chuckling. “Lost in the dazzle? Happens
every time.”
“Sorry,” Amelinda said with a nervous laugh. “It’s
just—Hippocoon’s tomorrow. I can’t wait.”
“Knew it.” Chun’s smile curved sly. “Names?”
“Amelinda,” she said quickly, eyes still pulled to the
fabric.
“Heracles,” he answered, voice steady but edged.
“Gwen,” Gwen said, flashing a grin, already sizing the shop up like a rival.
“Good names,” Chun said. The bell’s echo lingered, as though
the shop itself listened.
He stepped forward, hoof tapping the marble.
“Uniforms—classroom and training. Tough, comfortable, stylish if you care.
Classics too. Pick what calls to you.” He swept a hand to the racks.
“Gentlemen, this way. Lady Amelinda—come along.”
Amelinda’s eyes lit, then faltered. She squared her
shoulders. “Sounds great,” she said, voice bright but shaky, trailing Chun to
the women’s section.
Heracles and Gwen lingered by rows of boots, sleek shirts,
leather and steel guards.
Gwen dove in, rifling through with an eager grin. “Need
something epic,” he muttered, tone bursting with self-assurance.
Heracles moved slower, eyes flicking to the faint shimmer in
the fabric. “Too flashy,” he murmured, wary.
“Heracles—look at this!” Gwen leaned against a glass case.
Inside, golden armor blazed under the lamps.
Heracles stepped closer, brow drawn. “Beautiful,” he
admitted softly. “But heavy.”
“Overkill,” Gwen agreed, though his eyes clung to it. “Still
want it, though.” His smirk returned, daring anyone to doubt he could carry it.
Heracles left him and drifted down the aisle. At its dim
end, dust layered plain gear. He turned to go—until something glinted.
A black leather set: boots, shoulder and arm guards gleamed,
but the chest piece was dull brown, mismatched. Still, it tugged at him like a
half-remembered dream whispering his name.
His hand moved before thought. He lifted it free.
“Check me out!” Gwen reappeared, already gleaming in
blue-bronze armor, leather boots sharp beneath. His grin split wide. “Slick,
right?”
Heracles nodded, distracted, still feeling the strange pull
of the armor in his hands.
“Try it on!” Gwen urged, eyes alight.
Heracles stepped into a cubicle and emerged clad in the
black set. The boots and guards shone; the chest guard dulled the effect.
Gwen’s grin faltered. “Seriously? That’s your pick?” He
arched a brow.
“It feels right,” Heracles said, voice low. The mirror
showed nothing grand, but the fit clung like it was made for him. A flicker of
memory stirred—his father’s shadow, perhaps.
Chun’s hoof tapped closer.
“Nice pick, Gwen,” he said with a sly smile. “Top-tier—resists fire, ice, most
hits.”
Gwen puffed his chest. “Knew it.”
Chun’s gaze slid to Heracles. “And you? Certain about that
set?” His eyes glinted.
“Dead certain,” Heracles replied, steady though doubt
flickered under the words.
“It’s… different,” Chun said, voice trailing cryptic. “That
black leather won’t burn, freeze, or cut easy. No idea where it came from. The
chest guard’s weaker, but…” He tilted his head, smiling. “It suits you.”
Heracles nodded. The armor sat heavy, grounding him.
“It’s mine.”
“Done.” Chun scribbled in a small notebook. “Our motto—something’s
made for someone. Trust it.”
As the words fell, the shop hummed faintly, as if in
agreement. The phrase lodged in Heracles’s mind, tugging at the same instinct
that had drawn him to the leather—like fate whispering.
“Off with the sets,” Chun said warmly. “Time for class uniforms.”
Heracles and the Nemean Lion
The first epic in the Heracles and the Twelve Labors series — witness Heracles' legendary battle against the invincible lion. A tale of strength, fate, and immortal valor.
Heracles and the Dragon Hydra
The second chapter of the Heracles and the Twelve Labors series. Heracles faces the monstrous Hydra — a dragon-like beast with many heads, each reborn from the last. A mythic journey of courage, strategy, and divine challenge.
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