Chapter 3: Oizys

With the brunt of Athena's wrath apparently at bay for now, the men of The Andromeda begin making minor repairs. Luckily, the dolphins guided you past many of the dangerous rock formations around the island, and the beast you encountered only damaged part of the port side of the ship. The sea still boils in the distance, though it appears to be calming down. You're safe for the night, and can set out to explore the island come morning. Cassandra tends a fire by the shore line while Helenus arranges the rabbit's entrails for discernment. Do you want to go watch? she asks. It'd be good to learn eventually. On deck you have more of a chance to examine the beast - well, the severed parts of it, at any rate. One of the hooks from its wicked tentacle would make a pleasant battle token, and the inky blood is interesting as well. The man who was grabbed by the creature staggers on deck, bandaged well but still weak from the ordeal.

Hey, he mutters, glancing around to make sure nobody's watching. Don't tell the others I'm worried, but you seem to know a lot about....things like this. Was that thing poisonous? As things settle down for the night, Sinon (now definitely sober after the monster's attack) finds you during a scouting round with some of the other men. Sir, there are bodies on the shore. Do you want us to investigate them now, or in the morning?

While the sea monster fled before you could take its entrails, there's no use passing up good.... or at least viable.... food. Helenus makes space for you at the fire while Iantha finishes up.

I was hoping you'd come, fledgling. You must have a lot on your mind so far. Simpler questions, or less important questions, can use small sacrifices. The more complicated and important, the more valuable the sacrifice must be. Bulls in their prime are usually saved for the sorts of foresight that could change the course of war, for instance.

He takes some of the ash from the edge of the fire and sprinkles it over the entrails with a flourish. Now, Cassandra is Athena's servant, so she'd be better suited for this, but she needs her rest, and the question "Is Lady Athena still pissed off at us" has a fairly clear answer.

He glances at you briefly as he finishes arranging the space. Your first time is always difficult. But eventually you'll learn nuances that you and your god share regardless of the sacrifice.

He smirks. And of course, they can always throw something in your face unprompted.

---

The soldier with Iantha lets out a relieved laugh. Certainly. I'd hate to be gone from home all this time just to get finished off by a fish! I'm Antiochos. And I must say I'm glad you're on our side.

Just then, Sinon comes running back with Mikros and Kallon.

Captain! Captain! They're Greek soldiers! We found four, asked the others to bring them to camp. I don't know if we'll find more come morning. It's too dark to tell if they're Ithacan or not. But they were recently drowned. Surely in the storm.

Helenus nods. I was the same before Lord Apollo instructed me. She has become worse since she denied him. But even less exceptional seers report symptoms like a concussion.

Part of you expects snark for ignoring his earlier theatrics below deck, but there is none.

A fledgling does not understand, at first, that being pushed from the nest is a learning experience. He looks at you across the entrails, suddenly serious. You saw Astyanax. Our infant nephew. His smile catches the firelight with eerie shadows. And you couldn't find his body, right? No concussion showed you that.

---

While certainly it is a tragedy for these brave men to fall so close to home, you are relieved to see that none of them were part of your king's fleet. Sinon and the others discuss where to find wood for a pyre, and a good location separate from cooking. You have a somber sense of calm that whoever incurred your lady's wrath has paid their due.

Antiochus, insisting on feeling helpful, uses his uninjured arm to poke and prod at the cooking fire. Iantha, you're able to let him and a few of the soldiers know what "done" looks like on a beast like this. The men aren't necessarily thrilled with the intense briny flavor, but they're practical enough to appreciate not tapping into their food stores tonight.

While the ordeals of the day hampered the men's enthusiasm for going home, they do make camp and relax some, confident they're safe. Then you both hear an unsettling sound, like a child singing.

The voice isn't in distress, per se, but it's definitely humanoid.

You'll need to figure that out on your own, Helenus replies. Perhaps you're right. Or maybe someone noticed you years ago and waited for the war to end to reach out.

About this time you also hear the childlike singing, and notice Nikias and Iantha's inquisitive response. Helenus raises his eyebrows. Hoo boy...

At the fire, Chryseis turns to the others.

Should we go look? It's late but our health is all right.

A few of the soldiers take note with concern, but most chalk it up to an odd bird or hound, are deep in conversation, or have returned to the ship to sleep on deck.

It doesn't take long to find the source of the voice, and with a subtle hand gesture you're able to show the others where it's coming from.

Behind some of the rocks delineating the beach from the shore is a little girl, perhaps about seven or eight, playing with a raggedy doll of dark cloth. In a brief glint from the fires at camp, you can see it looks like she's been crying, but she sings her song quite contentedly. She appears to be alone and unharmed, and has yet to notice any of you.

Oh, Hi, Mister Spyros! she calls cheerily. Mama's picking me up in the morning. She said I did a really good job.

She sits up straight and proud. Well, every dusk I go swimming, then at night I visit everyone I can around the walled city. And at dawn I go swimming again. This is a really nice place to nap and play. The villagers won't let me play with them anymore, but that's okay. I'm used to it.

She accepts the food and smiles. Thank you, Mr. Areiu! After taking a mouthful of bread she chuckles playfully. You can call her Astæroómmatos. You might get to meet her if we play together!

Ah, it's over there a ways. The girl gestures broadly toward the east. Don't you remember, Miss Iantha? I visited all of you. Though I guess you were asleep.

In the distance you hear faint clamoring, and can see just the edge of the orange glow of torches. Not surprising, but it's from inland, not your camp. The little girl perks up.

Oh, yay! They're coming to play with me, too!

She turns the arrow in her hands. My name is Oizys.

Misery.

I've visited your men enough, so you don't need to worry. She glances up at the Amazonian. Sorry about your queen, Miss Iantha. It wasn't my fault, but I did have to tell you.

She pierces the doll's hand with the arrow and her posture changes. Now the doll takes on the appearance of a little girl holding a small toy arrow. As for Oizys, she wears a black dress. She looks like a child, but her bearing is too old. She looks like a young woman, but her features are too round.

The villagers want to sacrifice me in the morning. But that's not how any of this works. Mama is older than Olympus, after all. She gives a wry smile, eyes dark as ink, with black tears trailing down her face. She made me promise never to use her name with mortals. But she's all around us. and she looks up fondly to the night sky.

I already told you, Mister Spyros. I just come here to nap and play. There's been plenty of work to do in Troy. And when Mama comes I'll take my leave.

Iantha's offer allows the others to gather the men. When the others are gone, about a dozen men from the village crest the hill. They're armed with farming tools and torches. Maybe a few of them have hunting knives. Several of the older men bombard you with questions.

Get away from her!

Are you her mother?

Who are you?

She's not what she looks like!

You notice that Oizys has shed her truer form and appears again as a little girl.

At this a few of the men hold. You make a valid point. But the one in front narrows his eyes.

Not every cursed child is born of the gods. But this one is cursed. Ten years ago this child washed up on our shores. Since then we've been reeling from a lack of trade with Troy, and the mud of war in the waters. And she hasn't aged a day. I don't know what more of an omen you want, but when she's gone, our misery will pass.

As the small contingency of men returns, the villagers tense.

While we're glad to hear the war is over, we still need to deal with this. The leader gestures to Oizys. Now, will you assist us or let us do this ourselves? We don't have much to offer tired soldiers except a quiet beach, and we pray you worked out your spoils in Troy.

At dawn, the girl replies, when she's done with work.

The leader scoffs. So she's a camp follower?

Oizys ignores him. Mama said I could call her sooner if I needed her, but she warned me it would really scare the mortals.

The leader can tell the others are losing confidence. He shifts in his place.

We can't make your army leave. But if the girl is here after dawn tomorrow, I will have to insist you hand her over to us.

Knowing it's a weak bargain, he gestures to the villagers and they leave. Oizys nods.

It's probably better this way. I would have been fine, but thank you for the help.

With the villagers subdued for now, you can head back to camp for some much-needed rest. Oizys takes you up on your earlier offer for a place to spend the night, and goes to sleep fairly quickly. A few of the men are confused, but are quickly satisfied by a half-lie that you're escorting her home when it's light. You take a short time to finish food, tend to evening pieties, and prepare for sleep.

Sleep comes for you suddenly and with force. You know you're asleep, and can only see yourself in gray light, otherwise surrounded by pitch darkness. You can hear the breathing of the other two in your small cohort, but the sound of your own body is amplified.

WHAT SWEET NAIVE LITTLE MORTALS.

The voice simultaneously stirs memories of your mother's lullabys, and your first truly frightened night alone. Dread and rest twist like wild vines in your heart. Two piercing stars blink to light before you, though your field of vision doesn't change. The feminine voice speaks again, not at all hostile, but undeniably dangerous.

MY LITTLE OIZYS WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE ON HER OWN. BUT YOU CHARMING SOULS STILL TRIED TO HELP HER. IT'S SUCH AN ADORABLE FEATURE OF YOUR KIND. SHE QUITE LIKES YOUR GIFT, AND INSISTED I RETURN THE FAVOR.

Three baubles appear in your line of sight.
A wristlet of 15 black stones
A wristlet of 15 dark gray stones
A small gray marble carved to look like an eye

PLEASE ACCEPT THESE WITH MY COMPLIMENTS.

As soon as you take the trinkets you understand their purpose, and that your benefactor is Night herself: Nyx, daughter of Chaos.

For Nikias: Crush a bead and apply the powder below the eyes, and you shall recieve a glimpse into darkness.For Iantha: Crush a bead and run the powder through your hair, and you need not fear dropping your guard.For Kouru: Crush the eye, whisper your question to the night air, and I will answer.You wake, fear subsided, though the memory lingers like a strange dream. Around you, the soldiers are both packing the boat and preparing to bury the soldiers who washed up on shore. It seems the rest of the tentacle was distributed for breakfast. Oizys is gone.

I hope everything went all right, Sinon says when he sees you're awake. We woke up to see you all sleeping and assumed you took the little girl back home before dawn.

Helenus looks first. Weirdly heavy. Nice carving.

Cassandra follows up. I don't know if it makes sense, but it feels realer than other bracelets I've had.

Helenus also confirms that Athena's wrath was not aimed at this ship, and that the dolphins were a gesture of good faith from Amphitrite.

The men gather appropriate coinage for the deceased Greeks's eyes, and help arrange them for burial. While they work, others dig a grave in one of the hills on the bluff, and Sinon does his best to paint a grave marker on the nearby stone - an image of four men flanked by flame (supposedly of Troy) and the waves that caused their end. Mikros and Kallon find some wine for a decent libation, allowing Nikias to make the offering.

Iantha notices some of the villagers regarding the soldiers at a distance with confusion and caution, but nobody makes a threatening move. Kouru finds rubble on the beach, certainly pieces of various wrecks, but nothing more distinct than the men discovered last night. As they scout, they can hear Cassandra's voice pick up near the shoreline.

Lady Athena Areia, we know not whether these men angered you or were caught in the path of your wrath, but they were soldiers. Even the most base know to follow orders. Thus direct them on one last time, so they may reach the Dread Gates. Take mercy on us lowly ones, who bury them trusting the Lord of the Dead will judge them rightly.

Oh He who Welcomes Many Guests, accept our meager offerings on behalf of these souls. May they rest in the land most suitable, their names surviving as warnings or hope.

It's a simple burial, but resources and time are fairly short. A few men sing while others close the tomb. Your crew is confident they know which direction to disembark. The question now is whether you wish to make an offering to ensure safe travels - and if so, of what, and to whom?

The leader from the night before raises a wary eyebrow.

Well, the girl is gone. I'm not sure how you did it, but that was what we asked. And it'd be poor hospitality to deny you. What are you looking for?

The man takes note and returns to the village to check. He's gone a bit longer than you'd have expected - long enough that if they're curious, Iantha and Kouru can catch up with you. When he returns, he has a goat and two younger men with him.

It's been a while. Troy traded with us for some time, but we guessed you put them under seige. Soon enough it wasn't safe to venture out, but there's some soreness here because of how the war impacted our waters, how they didn't give us good information soon enough, and we lost some good men. And our village's oldest woman recieved several dreams that the war was their fault. So frankly, screw them. I am Andros, and these are my sons Giorgios and Dimitrios. My wife and some other women are gathering what food we can spare. I hope you like dried fish. He smirks at his own joke (or what he seems to think is a joke) and scratches the back of his neck.

I asked around. There's a rumor you killed that beast in the waters. If you did, we'll take as many of its hooks as you were able to save. They're much better for fishing. And we could use a pair of bows and some arrows. They say you soldiers don't consider it honorable, but our hunters use them, and judging from the fires we saw in the distance, you probably got new weapons anyway. And, of course, we want to know what happened.

It takes a few hours for them to gather the supplies you've requested, but you meet again closer to the center of town. By the time the exchange is made, Andros and his son are joined by many members of the village, including the old woman they mentioned. They offer to share a communal midday meal with you. Once everyone is settled, Andros speaks up.

So, ten years, and it's just over like that? Is there even anything left of Troy?

Andros takes a long draw of some water. Well, the gods give, the gods take away, I suppose. We didn't mean to cause undue trouble last night. I'm sure you understand.

And indeed, you are. With any sign of a storm long past, you leave the island behind you and continue towards Ithaca, by way of Sparta.