The compartment was warmer than Heracles
expected—soft benches lined either side, a narrow aisle running between.
Amelinda and Gwen slipped in behind him, taking the seats nearest the door.
“So this is real,” Heracles murmured, still uneasy.
“Feels real enough,” Gwen replied, smirking. “First time?”
Heracles nodded. “Yeah. First anything like this.”
“There’s plenty they never let us see unless we’re chosen,”
Gwen said quietly.
Amelinda leaned forward, her braid slipping over her
shoulder. “They’re incredible. When I first read about ground dragons in the Histories
of the Gods, I thought it was just a legend. Grogon’s terrifying—fastest
and longest creature alive. Its scales can’t be pierced, and its venom is said
to kill even half-bloods.”
Gwen whistled. “Comforting. And here we are, riding inside
it.”
“What about that shadow thing?” Heracles asked.
“The Shadow-shifter?” Amelinda’s brow furrowed in thought.
“Only a few lines. A shadow born from nothing, able to move things wherever it
wants. No records of it hurting anyone. Strange, but harmless—or so the books
say.”
Heracles tilted his head. “And Aiden? Anything about him?”
“No.” Amelinda shook her head. “Not a word. He’s not in the
records. Maybe just… human.”
Before Gwen could reply, Grogon’s voice rumbled through the
walls, deep but oddly warm:
“Children, it is time to eat.”
At the front of the compartment, a panel slid open. A woman
stepped through, clad in a simple purple-brown chiton. A small cart rolled
before her, laden with covered trays that gave off the scent of roasted herbs
and fresh bread.
“Greetings, travelers,” she said cheerfully, her eyes kind.
“A light meal before Hippocoon. All is provided—no coin required. Choose what
you wish.”
“Got gyros?” Gwen asked at once, grinning. “I’ll take one
with goat’s milk. What about you two?”
“Lentil soup, with pita if you have it,” Amelinda said
eagerly.
“I’ll have spanakopita,” Heracles added. “And milk.”
The woman’s smile turned apologetic as she lifted the lids.
“Gyros for the bold one, spanakopita for the quiet one, two cups of milk.” She
looked to Amelinda. “But no lentil soup today. Perhaps koulouria or loukoumas?
They go well with yogurt.”
Amelinda glanced at Heracles and smiled. “Then I’ll match
him. Spanakopita and milk.”
“Done,” the woman said warmly, placing their food before
them. “Eat well. The road is long.”
She pushed her cart to the back, the panel sliding open
again. A faint hum rippled through the walls as she stepped into the next
compartment.
A few
minutes later, the panel slid open again, and three boys stepped inside.
“How long has it been, Heracles?” a cold voice cut through
the air. “Four years, maybe?”
Heracles stiffened. “Iphicles.”
Tall, dark-eyed, with curls black as obsidian—Iphicles
carried their father’s shadow in every line of his face. Two broad-shouldered
boys flanked him, Volograd and Adapter, childhood friends turned silent
bodyguards.
“How’s our mother?” Iphicles asked, his tone flat,
unreadable.
“She’s well,” Heracles said quietly.
A bitter smile tugged at Iphicles’s mouth. “I still
remember. When we were children, the whispers followed me everywhere—coward,
crybaby, the boy who screamed when serpents slithered under the bed.” His
gaze sharpened. “But you… you were the miracle child. The little hero who
strangled them barehanded. Everyone praised you. Even Mother looked at you
differently. When she left, she chose you. Not me.”
Heracles shook his head, his voice firm but low. “That’s not
true. She loves us both. She misses you.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Iphicles’s words snapped like a whip. His
eyes burned with a cold fury. “I’ll prove them wrong. All of them. Even her. At
Hippocoon, they’ll see who’s stronger.” His stare locked on Heracles, hard as
steel. “I’ll be waiting.”
He turned sharply, his friends trailing after him. The panel
slid shut behind them, leaving a silence that pressed against the compartment
walls.
Heracles exhaled slowly, fingers curling tight around his
knee. “He’s always believed Mother loved me more. That’s why he… hates me.”
Amelinda leaned closer, her hand brushing his sleeve. “Don’t
let it crush you. Once we’re there, you’ll have a chance to reach him. Maybe
even heal this.”
“She’s right,” Gwen said, tone steady, no nonsense.
“Hippocoon’s the place for proving things. You’ll get your shot.”
Heracles’s gaze drifted back to the window, his reflection
shadowed in the glass. “I hope so,” he whispered.
Silence fell again—then the world outside shifted. Light
blazed into the compartment as the tunnel ended, flooding the space with sudden
brightness.
“Heracles, come look! It’s unbelievable!” Amelinda squealed,
pressed against the crystal-golden door with Gwen, both peering out wide-eyed.
Heracles rose and joined them. Beyond the glass stretched an
endless, ancient forest—trees so vast their roots coiled above the soil like
petrified serpents, thick with moss that glittered with dew. Light caught in
the droplets, scattering pearls across the greenery. Grogon’s immense body slid
forward along a narrow trail, bushes and tall grasses bowing beneath his weight.
Minutes passed. The forest thinned, opening onto shrubs and
stone. Ahead loomed a sheer mountain, its jagged peak tearing into the clouds.
“Gods! He’s going to crash into it!” Amelinda gasped,
clutching Gwen’s arm.
The compartment shuddered. Benches rattled. Dust sifted from
the ceiling as Grogon surged straight toward the rock face without slowing. The
walls trembled around them—children yelped, clutching their bags, some sliding
from their seats.
Then—impact never came. The mountain dissolved like smoke, and
they passed clean through.
For a heartbeat, silence. Only the ringing in their ears
remained.
Then a new sound—the flutter of parchment. Their admission
scrolls lifted from their packs, glowing white-gold, hanging weightless in the
air. With a soft hum, each burst apart into a thousand shards of light that
drifted away like fireflies before winking out. Their final duty was done—the
ticket spent.
Grogon’s deep voice rolled through the walls, calm but
resonant enough to steady the panic.
“Do not fear, children. The path into Hippocoon bends through places between.
What you saw was no mountain, but a veil. You are safe within me.”
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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