Malacai walked inside the Temple of the Gods that was located at the heart of the Ares Empire.
Behind him, several guards, and priestesses, lay on the ground, asleep. The Dracolich didn't harm them in any way, and rely put all of them to sleep.
When he reached the depths of the shrine, he waved his hand and the water around the statue of the Goddess rose to the air, and took on a crimson hue.
Soon, the statue glowed, and a sigh escaped its lips.
"Malacai, old friend, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Astarte, the Goddess of the Amazon Race, asked with a smile.
"Pleasure? I didn't visit you for pleasure," Malacai answered as he approached the Goddess who was looking at him with a playful gaze. "I ca here to ask you if your warriors are prepared for what is about to happen."
Astarte chuckled as she walked in circles around Malacai. "For thousands of years, my warriors' strength has grown stronger with every generation. They've adhered to the laws that I have given them, with the exception of a few who chose to fall in love, instead of mating with the strongest of n.
"Still, the children that were born out of love were still Amazons. Their bodies were forged by the strength of their ancestors. So, if you are asking if they are prepared for war then the answer is yes. Now, old friend, it is my turn to ask you a question…
"Are you prepared for what is about to co?"
Astarte lightly caressed the side of Malacai's bony face with the back of her hand. The Dracolich didn't pull away and allowed her to have her way.
"Do you even need to ask?" Malacai answered with a snort.
Astarte smiled, but this ti, the smile contained a sadness that only Malacai and her understood.
Malacai gazed one last ti at Astarte's beautiful face, before turning around to leave the temple.
"When the ti cos, I will co for you again," Malacai said without looking back.
Astarte watched his retreating back, with the sa sad smile plastered on her face. Only when she could no longer see him, did she open her lips and spoke, ever so softly…
"Malacai, you see things others can't.
Hear things others don't
Shed tears when others won't
And Fight when others don't."
The Goddess sighed one more ti before she walked back to her original place.
"After thousands of years, you will once again stand on the frontlines of the battlefield," Astarte said firmly as the crimson waters parted for her to cross over. "You've lived a very hard, and painful life, old friend."
Soon, the waters fell down on the pool and returned to its original color.
Astarte's statue stood tall and proud.
Waiting for the day when the Ancient Guardian of the World would co to visit her, one last ti.
—--
Two ravens cawed in the sky before landing on a branch of a tree. They looked at the old man who was peacefully taking a nap on the branch opposite theirs. The two ravens glanced at each other before once more cawing, in order to wake up the old coot who was still enjoying his afternoon siesta.
Jas opened his eyes and gazed at the two ravens who were looking back at him with fed up expressions on their faces. The old man yawned and scratched his head before winking at the two ravens that had been away for several days.
"Do the two of you have any news for ?" Jas asked.
The two ravens cawed once again and flapped their wings to fly towards him. Both of them landed on Jas' shoulder and closed their eyes. Jas, too, closed his eyes, as he felt the familiar connection between his two companions.
Images started to appear inside his head as the two ravens shared their mories with him.
After seeing all of their mories, Jas sighed and nodded his head in understanding.
"Continue to monitor them and keep updated," Jas ordered as he jumped off the tree. "I'm going back to the Tower of Babylon."
The two ravens nodded their heads before flying towards the sky. Jas watched them go until they had disappeared from the horizon.
He didn't have much ti left, and he needed to arrive at the Tower as soon as possible. Vlad and him had parted ways because the Demigod said that he needed to et so of his old acquaintances.
Jas didn't mind because both of their goals were the sa. Since that was the case, it was best for them to travel separately, in order to accomplish their individual tasks with ease.
The old bandit placed his fingers over his lips and whistled. He whistled many tis, and each note was different.
After two minutes, Jas stopped and stood at ease.
Suddenly, a neigh sounded behind him. Jas smiled as he watched an eight-legged horse gallop in his direction from the sky.
The horse's coat was white as snow, and its eyes were as black as coal. Clearly, this was not the sa horse that he had ridden long ago, but Jas still felt the undeniable connection between him and the magnificent steed.
It didn't take long before the eight-legged horse landed a few ters away from him. It neighed and approached Jas with an eagerness that had been rooted in its bloodline.
Jas lovingly stroked its head and caressed its neck.
"You must be his great, great, great, great, grandson," Jas said softly as he played with the horse's ears. "Will you accompany in this lifeti?"
The horse neighed and nodded its head in acknowledgent.
"Then, I should give you a proper na," Jas stated as he eyed the horse, but the latter shook its head and neighed in disapproval.
Jas' eyes widened for a brief mont before it was replaced with an understanding gaze.
"So, you wish for that as well." Jas patted the horse's head with a smile. "Very well, I will honor your wish."
The horse neighed softly and rested its head on Jas shoulder. The old man wrapped his arms around the horse and rubbed its neck, just like he did long ago.
"Sleipnir, your na will be Sleipnir," Jas whispered in the horse's ears.
The horse's ears twitched, and uttered a satisfied neigh before nudging Jas head with the side of its cheeks.
It then took a few steps back and made a gesture with its head.
Jas chuckled and nodded. He then mounted the back of the horse. Even without a saddle, he sat comfortably on its back. Sleipnir was confident that no matter how fast it ran, the rider on its back would not fall off.
Since that was the case, he pawed the ground with its hooves before dashing forward.
Soon the eight-legged horse galloped into the sky, headed towards the Tower of Babylon.
As the wind brushed past Jas face, a few bittersweet mories resurfaced inside his head. They were the mories of a ti long forgotten, mories of the path he had trodden.
"Make it in ti, Sleipnir," Jas ordered. "For Asgard, and the Nine Realms!"
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