By mid-afternoon, Heracles and Gwen were back at it, prying open more chests. Dust billowed with each creak of the hinges. Rusty lamps, silver badges, wooden plaques carved with Gwen’s family crest, ancient coins, and porcelain bowls faded with age piled up around them like small hills of forgotten history.
“Gwen, come here!” Heracles’s voice rang out, sharper than before. He held something up, eyes bright. “I think this might be a magical stone!”
“Where? Show me!” Gwen scrambled across the clutter, almost tripping over a chest lid.
Heracles brushed aside a stack of old books and pulled free a dark crystal, placing it carefully into Gwen’s palm.
Gwen turned it over in his hand, studying the dull surface. “Help me check this,” he said, passing it back.
Heracles flipped quickly through the diary until he found a page covered in sketches. He held it beside the crystal.
Gwen leaned closer, his grin faltering. “It matches… but it’s dead. No light left.” His voice was heavy, the words landing like stones.
Heracles read aloud from the notes: “When a magical stone turns dark and no longer emits light, it means its energy is depleted. It cannot be used again.” He glanced between the page and the crystal, his shoulders sinking. “So it’s true. This one’s useless.”
Still, he knelt and emptied the rest of the chest onto the floor. His hands darted through the mess until he uncovered two more crystals. “Here! More of them!”
Gwen hurried over, hope sparking again, and together they pulled out several more. Soon nine stones lay in a row, their surfaces dark and lifeless.
Heracles stared at them, jaw tightening. “All of them… dead.”
“Yeah.” Gwen sat back on his heels, disappointment flashing across his face. But then his hand lingered on one stone, his eyes distant. “We’ll have to search elsewhere. These won’t do. But somewhere out there… there must be stones still alive.”
Heracles sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No choice, then.”
They slumped against a chest, the attic hushed around them. For a long moment only their breathing filled the air.
Finally, Heracles broke the silence. “So… what do we do with all this junk?”
Gwen let out a soft laugh, faint but stubbornly hopeful. “We put it back. One day, maybe we’ll thank these dusty relics for hiding the clues we need.”
Heracles pushed himself up, brushing the dust from his arms. His disappointment lingered, but the gleam in Gwen’s eyes steadied him. “Alright. Let’s set it straight.”
It took them hours to return everything to its place. By the time they left the attic, dusk had melted into night. Lamps burned along the corridors, and the scent of roasted meat drifted faintly in the air.
Alma met them at the stairwell and bowed. “Master Gwen, the dining hall is prepared.”
“Good,” Gwen said, brushing the dust from his sleeves with an easy smile. He glanced at Heracles. “Come on. After a day like this, we deserve more than attic air.”
The dining hall stretched wide beneath chandeliers, its long table gleaming. Silver dishes steamed as servants set the last platters down. At the head of the table, two ornate chairs sat empty.
Heracles slowed, his eyes flicking toward them. “Your parents aren’t here yet?” he asked quietly.
Gwen slid into his seat without missing a beat. “No. Don’t worry—they’re often late. Sometimes I think the cooks know me better than my parents.” He smirked, carving into the lamb with practiced ease.
Heracles’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t press. He settled beside him. “So it’s just us, then.”
“Just us,” Gwen echoed, flashing a grin. “Which means more lamb for me.”
Heracles huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he cut into his chicken. For a while, the only sound was the clink of silverware and the crackle of the fire in the great hearth.
At last, Heracles looked up. “Where do you think we’ll find the magical stones?”
“In town,” Gwen replied between bites, eyes brightening. “The All-for-You shop.”
Heracles frowned. “That place?”
“Yes.” Gwen leaned back, his grin sharpening. “The trick isn’t what they sell—it’s whether we can catch it at all. That shop wanders, slips through space itself. If it’s here now, it won’t stay long.”
Heracles frowned slightly, fork pausing midair. “So it could be gone by the time we get there?”
“Exactly.” Gwen pointed with his knife, a spark in his eyes. “Which is why we can’t waste time.”
Heracles let out a dry laugh, half weary, half amused. “You make it sound like we’re hunting a beast.”
“Finding a shop that doesn’t want to be found?” Gwen raised his glass in mock toast. “That’s rarer than a beast. And a lot harder to tame.”
The chandelier light flickered across their faces, and for a moment the vast hall seemed to shrink to just the two of them—two boys, sharing secrets under candlelight, standing at the threshold of something far greater than themselves.
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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