Chapter 7: Vengeance
The weight of solemnity settled upon me as I delved deeper into the origins of vengeance. The brutal act of Cain murdering his own brother, Abel, etched a vivid image of jealousy and retribution upon the blood-soaked ground of that fateful field—the first act of vengeance in human existence. Yet, for me, the origins of vengeance transcended mere human existence. It resonated within the very fabric of the cosmos, eluding my understanding and leaving me grappling with frustration and an insatiable thirst for comprehension.
But my mother, the one who held the secrets of the cosmos, remained silent. I pleaded with her, desperate for the true origin of vengeance, yet she ignored me as she always does. The weight of her indifference cut deep, sowing seeds of doubt within me. Did she truly care about me and my siblings, or were her occasional displays of affection mere masks concealing a deeper apathy?
Mother, timeless and ancient, stands as a living embodiment of the cosmos, existing since the dawn of creation. The concept of "Old" fails to capture the magnitude of her existence. If we consider the passage of time according to Earth, it has been over 13 billion years since the genesis of the universe.
Mother has lived as long as that... Compared to her... Compared to her...
I don't even know why I am putting these thoughts on paper anymore.
- A haunting record from Nemesis, the Goddess of Vengeance, Retribution, and Balance.
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The Oracle of Delphi resided deep within a cave, where wisps of green smoke curled and lingered in the air before dissipating under the gentle touch of the morning sun. Aside from this ethereal display, the cave appeared rather unremarkable.
Apollo, with his gleaming golden eyes, loathed the sight the moment he laid eyes upon it. A mere cave, he thought, unfitting for something as sacred as the wellspring of Delphi. When he claimed Delphi as his own, he vowed to relocate it to a more grand and influential location. He envisioned constructing a magnificent monument that would withstand the test of time, providing a worthy dwelling for its divine essence. Perhaps he would even build a city around it, his own creation.
However, those plans could wait for another day as he landed gracefully in front of the detestable cave, his bow tightly gripped in his hand. He had no intention of venturing inside. Entering the cave would be unwise, giving the Python an advantage, regardless of his own confidence in his abilities. He couldn't forget that the Python guarded the wellspring of Delphi, an divine presence that could introduce unforeseen complications.
Apollo couldn't afford any surprises. So, he cleared his throat and emitted a soft whistle, gradually increasing its volume. The sound he produced was carefully crafted, mimicking the resonating vibrations of a chariot's wheels. His voice echoed across the rocky terrain, the pitch reverberating as if accompanying the imaginary hoofbeats of a galloping horse.
And then he saw it.
A colossal creature slithered out of the cave, causing the ground to tremble beneath its movements. The first thing that struck Apollo was the smell, contorting his face in disgust. He had never encountered such a repugnant stench. Thankfully, he was now a God, no longer bound by mortal limitations. He doubted he could have endured such a vile odour in his previous mortal form.
With his bow at the ready, the God of Light lunged forward, pushing through the noxious scent. His gaze locked onto the monstrous entity emerging from the cave, assuming a stance of unwavering preparedness.
It was the Mighty Python, spawn of Earth Mother and Guardian of Delphi.
However, Python was far from a mere snake. While its physical form resembled that of a serpent, with a sinewy body, razor-sharp teeth, and vertical eyes, there was much more to it. Its elongated frame sported not only a tail and scales but also a myriad of appendages and legs sprouting from its serpentine form. As Apollo observed, he noticed snapping heads, flapping wings, and even more clawed legs, defying any conventional understanding of a simple snake.
Formidable and powerful, Python radiated a strength rooted in the very essence of the Earth itself. Its serpentine body harboured a power that could pose a significant challenge even to immortals. But Apollo was no ordinary immortal; he was a God, reigning over the realms of Light, Archery, and Truth.
Python detected him. "You have the scent of ichor," it rumbled, its throat emitting a low chuckle.
Apollo came to a halt, locking eyes with the amber gaze of the python, his own golden eyes gleaming in confrontation.
"A God, I assume," Python hissed, its voice laced with venom. It leaned forward, its slitted eyes fixated on Apollo, a predator sizing up its prey. "No...you bear a striking resemblance to the Titaness I hunted not long ago..." The python's gaze intensified, filled with morbid curiosity and a hunger for the god before it. "I presume she's the reason for your foolishness, for daring to challenge me."
Apollo's expression turned icy and disdainful. "Arrogant much," he sneered, reaching for the string of his golden bow.
"Quite audacious for a mere godling who believes he can oppose—" Python lunged forward with a lightning-fast speed that defied its massive form, becoming a blur and closing the short distance between them in an instant.
Its monstrous jaws opened wide, swallowing Apollo whole in a single fluid motion before he could even comprehend what had happened. With a savage determination, Python clamped down with all its might, seeking to crush the God of Light, merging ichor and flesh together.
Python's anticipation grew, relishing the thought of the divine flavour that would soon grace its tongue. After all, the gods were the most exquisite delicacies in the world. And the fact that this particular prey was the son of the wretched Titaness who had eluded its grasp made the prospect even more enticing.
From the very beginning, Python knew that the godling it faced was far from ordinary, unlike other immortals. It had devised a cunning plan, feigning interest and intrigue in the godling, biding its time, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to strike with overwhelming surprise. And that moment had arrived when the godling's attention wavered as he reached for his bowstring. Swift as a shadow, Python seized the opportunity, engulfing him in a single gulp. Now, its excitement reached a fever pitch, its insatiable craving growing with every passing moment.
But as the moments stretched on, the promised divine taste never materialised. To its horror, there was nothing in its mouth—no trace of Apollo. Python roared in frustration, its deafening voice sending shockwaves rippling through the forest surrounding Delphi. Its amber eyes darted frantically, brimming with burning rage.
"Well, well," an amused voice echoed from the right of Python, "You really wanted a piece of me, didn't you?"
Python swung its long tail and sharp wings towards the source of the voice, aiming with precision. But to its dismay, its attack struck nothing but empty air, the sound of its attack echoing with futility.
"But did you truly believe I would fall for such a feeble trick?" the amused voice now resounded from above, reverberating through the sky. "Ridiculous! Light sees all, foolish Python."
"Reveal yourself, godling!" Python roared towards the heavens, its voice rumbling and shaking everything in its wake.
"Very well," the amused voice conceded without delay.
Python recoiled in surprise, a hint of trepidation creeping into its slitted eyes.
In the next moment, Apollo materialised not far from Python, suspended effortlessly in the air. However, he was not alone. Immediately after his appearance, numerous replicas of Apollo emerged, filling the sky, the forest, and the ground in an instant, encircling Python. They all wore brilliant smiles and boomed with thunderous declaration, their hands outstretched, radiating a blinding brilliance. "Lo and behold!"
"You…" Python's jaws hung open, a mixture of horror and terror flooding its serpentine form. "You…"
Even with its extraordinary serpentine senses, there was no mistaking it. Every single one of those Apollos was genuine. They were not mere illusions or manifestations of his fragmented divine essence—no, they were complete and authentic, just like the original Apollo who had stood before it. Their scents were identical, lacking any hint of discrepancy or flaw.
"What are you?!" Python bellowed, completely losing its composure.
"I am Apollo, the God of Light, Truth, and Archery," the Apollos boomed in unison, their words infused with divine power that bore down upon Python. "Through the brilliance of light, our eyes perceive the world, and our minds comprehend what they behold, granting us an understanding of all things," they cocked their heads, observing as Python struggled under the weight of their words.
"Do you finally grasp it, Python? I, who reign over the realm of Light and Truth, dictate your perception of all things. These forms of mine are flawless illusions, meticulously crafted to manipulate your senses. They could have been shattered had you made any effort, but your untamed, animalistic mind mistook them for reality, rendering them your undeniable truth."
Apollo could sense the seeping despair emanating from Python as it writhed and thrashed under the weight of his power. There was a calculated reason why he indulged in the clichéd villainous speech instead of swiftly ending Python's existence. He sought to push it beyond its breaking point, and for that, only the final blow remained.
"There is nothing you can do but accept your fate, foolish Python," Apollo declared with finality, even though he cringed inwardly at his banal words. "I now dominate your world."
In Python's eyes, all the Apollos simultaneously drew back the strings of their golden bows, and with a burst of blinding light, arrows ignited, elongating from their hands to the bow-frames. Together, they aimed their frigid radiance at Python's form, an icy brilliance that promised only death.
Python shattered, mustering all its strength into a desperate cry. "O, Gaea, Mother of All Creation, hear my plea! I beseech you, grant me your strength and protection in this dire moment! Free me from the clutches of Apollo's impending doom!"
Apollo remained motionless, making no attempt to thwart Python's plea, nor releasing his arrow.
Then it began with a mere ripple, escalating into a tremor, until finally erupting into a quake that seemed to shake everything within Apollo's field of vision. In an instant, a dormant force surged forth from the depths of the earth, unleashing her boundless power.
The arrival of Gaea was palpable, and Apollo could feel her primordial presence emerging from every corner of the planet.
This was inevitable; Apollo knew it. His mysterious instincts blazed, foretelling her impending arrival. Even if he had swiftly slain Python, Gaea would have come to ensure he faced the consequences for killing her offspring. He had no intention of becoming a slave for ten years like his namesake in the mythology.
The very thought of losing his freedom completely was agonising to him, driving him to concoct a perilous scheme. Although filled with uncertainties, it was the only feasible path he had. So, he decided to take the risk fearlessly...
Meanwhile, within the hallowed halls of Olympus, the throne room quivered beneath the wake of Earth Mother. The Gods themselves teetered on the precipice of their seats, witnessing the clash escalate to its crescendo—Gaea was extending her merciless grip towards Apollo.
Artemis, consumed by panic, abruptly sprang from her seat and cried out, "Father!"
Zeus furrowed his brow, his gaze fixated on his son through the ethereal projection. He struggled to comprehend the motivations behind Apollo's deliberate allowance of Gaea's interference. Despite Apollo's flamboyant and goofy nature, Zeus sensed an absence of recklessness. Every move seemed calculated and purposeful, as evidenced by his fight with Python. Regardless, events had unfolded, and Zeus was going to rescue Apollo. It was not merely a father's duty but also that of a king.
Amid the watchful eyes of his council, the King of Gods rose from his majestic throne and summoned his mighty master bolt. Yet, just as he was on the brink of intervening, he froze in his tracks, surprise etching itself upon his countenance as he beheld his son's response to Gaea.
In that very moment, Apollo gasped in the heavens, an excruciating agony coursing through his being as he became enshrouded in the Earth Mother's aura. His vision flickered with shimmering golden specks as the once benevolent elements of nature transmuted into a hostile force. It felt as though the land, sky, air, water, trees, clouds, animals, and birds had turned against him, relentlessly seeking to ensnare him within nature's unforgiving grasp.
The God of Light bit down on his tongue, reclaiming his clarity as the taste of divine ichor filled his mouth. With grimness, he realised the time for restraint had passed. He could no longer hold back. It was now the moment to unleash the entirety of his power.
In an instant, a radiant metamorphosis consumed Apollo, transforming him into a manifestation of luminous light, truth incarnate, and unparalleled mastery of archery. His very being exuded a resplendent radiance, outshining the sun itself and casting a warm, golden luminescence in all directions.
His locks, flowing in undulating waves of golden brilliance, seemed to dance amidst celestial flames, emitting rays that illuminated his surroundings. His piercing eyes, now akin to twin orbs of liquid luminescence, emanated an unwavering intensity.
Draped in a billowing robe woven from ethereal threads of pure light, Apollo emerged as if cloaked in a tapestry crafted from the essence of illumination itself. The fabric shimmered with an array of dazzling hues, evoking the vibrant colours of dawn and dusk, as well as the brilliance of a midday sun. Summoning every ounce of strength and might within him, he immediately poured it all into his voice, a thunderous proclamation that echoed through Earth and Sky.
"O, Nemesis, daughter of Night, heed my plea!" Apollo's words thundered forth, carrying the weight of his resolution. "I, Apollo, stand upon this sacred ground to exact vengeance upon Python, the foul serpent who has relentlessly hounded my beloved mother, Leto. It has dared to defile the sanctity of our family, and I cannot allow its malevolence to endure. I implore you, Goddess of Retribution, to recognise the righteousness of my cause!"
In the realm of universal forces and eternal truths, even the Primordials themselves were bound to acknowledge and adhere to certain concepts. And in this moment, one such concept materialised—
Vengeance!
In a breathtaking display of power, Vengeance assumed the form of a divine woman, materialising behind Apollo. Radiating an aura of potent justice, she adorned herself in armour that shimmered with a dark, otherworldly glow, exuding an air of solemn authority.
She was none other than Nemesis, the Goddess of Vengeance, Retribution, and Balance.
Nemesis's sharp and penetrating gaze locked onto Apollo, carrying a mixture of recognition and scrutiny. It was as though she measured the depths of his resolve and the righteousness of his cause. Her voice resonated with commanding yet measured tones. "Apollo," she declared, "the scales of retribution have tipped in your favour." With that, she vanished as abruptly as she had appeared, leaving behind only her lingering judgment echoing throughout the world.
And the world responded in kind. The relentless aura of Nature receded, surrendering to Apollo's ethereal brilliance, which enveloped the surroundings in a gentle, otherworldly glow. The tremors of the Earth abruptly ceased, as if even Gaea herself acknowledged the righteous plea of Apollo for justice.
Freed from the clutches of Earth, Apollo drew a deep breath, pulling the string of his golden bow once more. Between his fingertips and the bowstring, an arrow materialised, taking form. This was no ordinary arrow; it bore the unmistakable essence of retribution, its hue cast in a dark-golden shade.
It was the arrow of Vengeance!
With a tranquil exhale, Apollo released the string, and the arrow of Vengeance plunged into the earth with cataclysmic force, hurtling towards Python.
The serpent, seizing the opportunity created by Gaea's intervention, had already slithered away from Delphi, seeking solace within the embrace of its mother. Yet, as the arrow raced towards Python, it let out a cry of despair and betrayal, sensing the withdrawal of its mother's presence. Unwilling to give up, Python writhed deeper into the depths of the earth, exerting every ounce of its power to reach its mother and elude the impending doom brought forth by Apollo.
Alas, its efforts proved futile in the face of the arrow of Vengeance, an unstoppable force that allowed no evasion, no resistance, no defence.
And so, with one final anguished cry, Python succumbed to the pale embrace of Death, its bestial heart shattered by the inevitable impact of the Arrow of Vengeance.
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