Over the next few days, the household slipped back into its rhythm. Aunt July vanished often, leaving at dawn for business in town and returning only when the lamps were lit. Lena busied herself with meals, humming as she chopped herbs, her laughter spilling now and then from the kitchen. Alcmene remained serene, dividing her time between her books and the roses that bloomed beneath the eaves, their fragrance wrapping her in quiet solitude.
Amelinda, however, withdrew. When she wasn’t with Heracles, she shut herself away, bent over tasks she never explained—ink stains on her fingertips, strange powders lingering on her desk.
Heracles alone could not settle. He drifted from room to room, restless. Sometimes he lingered with his mother, listening to her voice while she read aloud, though his thoughts wandered. Sometimes he tapped at Amelinda’s door, curious, only to be waved off with a distracted smile. Most often, he found himself outside, beneath the eaves, watching the Old Gardener tend the roses with patient care.
But even in the sunlight, with birds darting overhead and the breeze soft against his skin, Heracles could not escape the memory of that golden glow. When he closed his eyes, he swore he felt the weight of the vanished armor still clinging to him, as if waiting—hidden, silent—for the moment it would return.
***
A carriage rattled into view along the dusty road, sunlight flashing on its wheels. Heracles, slouched at the round table beneath the eaves, blinked and straightened. He had been staring at the horizon so long that the sudden movement pulled him back to life.
The carriage stopped outside the rose garden. Its door flew open, and out jumped a familiar figure.
“Gwen!” Heracles called, already on his feet.
“Heracles!” Gwen grinned wide, jogging through the roses. They clasped each other in a rough hug, both laughing like no time had passed.
“I couldn’t stand it anymore,” Gwen said, breathless but teasing. “Since we left Hippocoon, I’ve been counting ceiling tiles at home just to stay sane. What about you? Started wrestling gods yet?”
Heracles smirked faintly. “Hardly. Too quiet here. But—” his tone shifted, lower, steadier, “—come. There’s something you need to see.”
They slipped inside and up to Heracles’s room. Gwen dropped onto the stool by the window, drumming his fingers idly, while Heracles hovered near his bed, serious now.
“A few days ago, a wooden box arrived,” Heracles began.
Gwen’s brows shot up. “A mystery box? Please tell me it had something better than dried figs inside.”
Heracles ignored the joke. “Armor. Not ordinary. The letter said it was woven from the hairs of a sacred beast.”
Gwen blinked, then gave a short laugh. “Armor made of beast hair? That sounds like something a professor would cook up to scare first-years.”
Heracles’s gaze stayed firm. “No. My mother recognized the script. She said it was Perseus—my grandfather.”
For once, Gwen’s grin slipped. “Wait. Perseus? As in the Perseus? You’re not joking?”
“That’s what she told me,” Heracles said evenly. His fingers tapped the wooden box, a steady rhythm belying the doubt clouding his eyes. “And I want to believe her. But the way it all happened… it doesn’t feel simple.”
“Not simple how?” Gwen asked, leaning forward, his playful air replaced by curiosity.
Heracles opened the box, lifted the folded parchment, then set it aside. His voice dropped lower. “The gift wasn’t a sword or shield. It was armor. Enchanted. When I touched it, it came alive—wrapped itself around me in light. For a moment, it was real. And then—” his jaw tightened, “—it vanished. Into thin air.”
“Vanished?” Gwen echoed, staring. “You mean it’s just… gone?”
Heracles nodded, jaw tight. “Amelinda and I tried everything—spells, charms, commands. Nothing. It’s like the armor is still here, bound to me, waiting. For what, I don’t know.”
Gwen leaned back, whistling low. “That’s insane. If Perseus really sent it, then it’s more than a hand-me-down. Sounds like a trial. A test.”
Heracles gave a sharp laugh. “Some test. A gift I can’t even use.”
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.
Heracles and the Burden of Mercy
The third chapter of the Heracles and the Twelve Labors series. Heracles faces the ultimate test of mercy by choosing to redeem the ethereal Ceryneian Hind instead of slaying it, while Avery atones through grueling labor, Lily sings the hymn that rebirths the Hydra, and the dark ocean Umbrother awakens, heralding a greater shadow to come.
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