The pace slowed, the great body easing to rest.
Darkness swallowed the light outside. Columns rose from the black earth, oil lamps burning atop them, their glow faint against the vast night.
“Disembark,” Grogon rumbled. “Your journey with me ends here.”
The doors slid open. One by one, children filed out, gathering beneath the lamps, dwarfed by the dragon’s colossal bulk.
Aiden’s husky voice cut through the murmurs. “Stay close! The dark here is not kind.” He raised his flickering oil lamp, its glow carving a narrow path forward.
Heracles, Gwen, and Amelinda fell in line, walking with the others along the dim trail. Whispers flickered and died quickly as nerves tightened. Eyes darted to every shifting shadow, but no one dared fall behind.
At last, the path opened to a wide river. Dark water stretched silently into the gloom, boats waiting along the bank. Hooded boatmen stood motionless by their vessels, faces hidden, lamps glinting faintly off the curve of their oars.
Aiden stepped into an empty boat and set his oil lamp at the bow. Its light rippled across the dark water like a trail of fireflies.
“Groups of ten,” he called, voice steady. “Board carefully. Fall in the river, and you’ll regret it.”
Heracles, Gwen, and Amelinda climbed in beside him, followed by the chubby boy from earlier, four girls, and two other boys. Iphicles and his friends boarded another vessel further down the bank. The boatmen pushed off, and the craft slid soundlessly into the black current.
The water was still, but the silence pressed heavy. Then a boy with hair the color of flame leaned forward, his grin flashing in the lamplight.
“So, what’s your name? I saw you cry when the Shadow-shifter dragged us under.”
Heracles glanced over. The boy’s gaze was fixed on the chubby one, whose face flushed crimson.
“A–Avery,” he stammered, staring at his knees.
Hank’s grin softened, almost kind. “Don’t sweat it, Avery. Everyone was scared. I just didn’t show it.” He shrugged, tapping his chest with mock bravado. “I’m Hank, from Calydon. What about the rest of you?”
Amelinda leaned in quickly, braid swinging. “I’m Amelinda. These are my friends—Heracles and Gwen. We’re from Tiryns.”
“Nice. Tiryns, huh? Heard it’s crawling with heroes,” Hank said, nodding approvingly. “Good to meet you three.”
Heracles gave a small nod. “Same.” Gwen smirked faintly, offering no more than a quick “Yeah.”
As the boat glided forward, Hank kept the talk flowing. Names circled around—Henry from Nemea, Sophia and Ladonna from Athens, Donna from Thebes, Morela from Delphi. Avery managed a shy smile whenever eyes landed on him, though his hands stayed tight on the bench.
Then the river bent, and light spilled into view. On the far shore rose a castle—vast, radiant, its towers bathed in golden fire as if dawn itself had chosen it alone.
Murmurs rippled through the boat. Heracles’s chest tightened at the sight, something both foreign and inevitable stirring in him.
The hull scraped softly against stone. They disembarked quickly, hurrying to join the gathering throng. Aiden lifted his lamp again, leading them in a long, quiet line toward the gates.
The doors of Castle Methonia yawned open, spilling candlelight across the newcomers. Inside, four immense tables stretched beneath a ceiling lost in shadows, and at the far end, a raised platform waited. Silver sconces held thousands of flames, their glow steady as stars.
Aiden stopped before the dais, his lamp flickering against the marble. Figures in cloaks stood there, solemn and watchful. One man stepped forward, his gray-brown cloak brushing the floor.
“Thank you, Aiden,” the man said, his voice calm but firm.
Aiden bowed his head slightly. “It is my duty,” he replied, then slipped back into the crowd, his crooked silhouette vanishing among the students.
The man spread his arms wide. “Welcome to Castle Methonia,” he declared, voice resonant, filling every corner of the hall. “I am Finn, principal of Hippocoon. Whatever you knew before, whatever you believed—set it aside. From this day, this place is your home. Here you will learn, grow, and discover truths worth more than life itself.”
The hall erupted in applause, the sound rolling like thunder against the high ceiling. Finn stood unmoving, gaze sweeping across their faces, then turned back to the others on the platform.
They stepped forward together, circling a tall marble base crowned by a white owl. Joining hands, they bowed their heads and began to chant—ancient syllables that slipped like music through the air. The candles flickered, bending to the rhythm of their voices.
The owl glimmered, feathers paling into gold. A warm radiance poured down, washing the hall in light. Slowly, impossibly, the owl blinked—its eyes glowing, alive.
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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