//------------------------------// // Kopis // Story: Last Great Mysteries // by blazejuddernaut //------------------------------// Theonikas took in a forceful inhale when the cold water soaked him while he slumbered in the corner of a modest boat. A short lavender woman stood before him with bucket and xiphos in hand. She was skilled at wielding a sword as well as waking up tired old hunters. “We’re nearly at the isle. You should consider being more alert for this fight,” she barked at Theonikas. “I should be more alert? Thyella, you are too angry to function most the time, Dromas is deaf, and I think I’m still a little drunk. Alertness is not our strongest suit.” The hunter did not move from his place. Thyella grunted in dismay and glanced over at Dromas. He was staring at his spear. It made her uncomfortable. “We are going to die if you two don’t stay focused,” said Thyella as she angrily shifted gaze to the unoccupied corner of the boat. “Then we bet on how we die. We collect in the underworld.” Theonikas gestured to Dromas in a language that only the two of them seemed to know. “Ah, see. Dromas is on this action. He bets ten drachma that we’ll fall off a cliff on our way to their lair.” Thyella stood silent. Theonikas was unclear as to whether she was thinking about how they’d go out or just not comfortable with dead pools. “I will go as high as twenty that Dromas fleas, I will be shot with my own arrows, and they keep you as pet.” “I will tell you what’s going to happen. Their spell will not work on us, you will shoot the purple one, Dromas shall spear the blue one, and I will personally tear the heart out of that yellow one.” “I give that about a plus eleven hundred, Athens odds,” snarked the gambling man. “How are we to die if they cannot trap us under their spell? They look weak. They are but girls,” questioned the warrior lady. “No one has heard the sirens’ song and lived. No deaf man, no woman, not a man at a distance,” he warned, somewhat disgusted with his own pessimism after saying it. “They have never fought a deaf man, woman, or bowman. They do not fight. They are cowards.” Their bickering was interrupted by a haunting whistle that blew through the rocky shores. It didn’t seem natural to the terrified minds of the two who could hear. “Is that them?” posed Thyella nervously. “If it is, then maybe this won’t be so bad,” replied the nonchalant hunter trying to reassure himself and Thyella to compensate for his negativity. Any cool that they had was gone when they landed. The three fully realized the gravity of the situation when the whistling was replaced by the low drum of waves colliding. They gathered their few belongings, which were mainly weapons. The collection of objects was a perfect example of what a suicide mission’s arsenal might look like. The only possessions they brought that were not related to weapons were three sacks that once contained bread. Now they hoped for them to hold something more unpleasant. A kopis hung at Theonikas’ side. It was not really a combat weapon for the average hunter like Theonikas. He did not know how to wield it, but it was mandated that they bring it. It was perhaps the only reminder that they have a chance of survival. It was only used by a foot soldier after victory had been achieved. As far as they knew, the lair was not too far away. They didn’t know what it looked like. They really didn’t know anything about the sirens. They began up the rocky hill anyway with weapons and sacks nervously in hand. They were certainly afraid, but the sheep wandering about and lotuses near their path would make the scene of three terrified warriors walking up a hill seem out of place. To siren hunters, the sheep and lotuses didn’t exist. Only an objective. Alertness was no longer an issue. “How well can you hear right now, Theonikas?” “A little bit better than I wish.” “Do you think you can hit them from twenty orgyia?” “That’s why I’m here. Are you still female?” “Believe it or not yes. But, I’m here for more than that.” “Of course you are,” said Theonikas sarcastically. “Dromas, are you still deaf.” A pause ensued for Theonikas’s lame duck joke that did nothing to comfort Thyella or himself. The pause did not conclude until they reached a cave. “Do you hear that? It’s laughter,” said Thyella as her rage reached a pinnacle. “It had to be a cave didn’t it.” “Those harpies are laughing. Ready your bow.” Her head was cloudy and Theonikas knew it. He gestured Dromas to lead. Upon walking into the cave, they couldn’t afford to lose their greatest advantage so they bumbled, though stealthily, through the dark. The laughing grew louder as they followed Dromas’ lead. They could tell he saw something when he raised his left hand to eye level—a faint light emitted from the deep recesses of the cave. Theonikas stopped the pair in front of him. It was time for all jokes to cease for him. The hunt was on and he was a great hunter. The disposition from Theonikas signaled something unknown to Thyella. He turned to her with a sigh. “Before we take positions, just be safe out there. I know how much you hate them, but none of us want to die today.” Thyella had never seen Theonikas afraid. She always wanted him to be brought down a notch but of course this came at the most inopportune time. She was afraid too. Theonikas took his bow and kopis to a ridge that was partially in the light. Below it was a pool of water. He needed the height and light to make his shot. Though it was dark, he could see the sirens. For about two seconds, Theonikas was in awe of their beauty, then he understood Thyella’s rage. There was something wicked about their aura. It was as if every noise uttered from their mouth, even those that were not song, were leading him to evil. They conversed and giggled in a hot spring. Three lantern’s emitted the light that they saw. He watched Thyella and Dromas creep towards their pool. He was afraid before. He was terrified now. Everyone who he called a friend and every possession he had, however meager, were in the cave targeting the same individuals because a king told them to. He watched the sirens intensely. The golden haired siren ceased talking, smirked, and flipped her hands outward toward her fellow sirens. “No.” He prepared his bow but their song had already started. His companions silently charged at first sight of the sirens’ mouths simultaneously opening. “No!” Dromas’ spear caused a spark after hitting directly into the rocks lining the hot spring when the lanterns light disappeared. The song was not audible to Theonikas, but he was sure it was quite audible to Thyella. In the dark, he rummaged for his arrows but only heard a splash made presumably by his quiver. The lanterns were turned back on again not by fire, but a strange pastel glow. The alien like radiance shined on Thyella and the sirens alike. Thyella’s sword was bloodied. The sirens were not. She shivered out of paralysis and was quickly inserted back into it when the violet and blue sirens continued to sing. The golden siren exited the hot spring slowly and all either of the remaining warriors could do was watch. No siren had moved an inch since the ordeal began. She walked around Thyella in observance and focused on her face. “Oh yes, I know you. Doesn’t she look familiar, girls?” In an odd spectacle the two minor sirens spoke clearly while simultaneously singing beautifully. “She does, Adagio” “The warrior princess. We much preferred the warrior prince. He was lovely company. Aria, do you think—” Adagio’s monologue was interrupted by a swift swing of Thyella sword. A cut was left on Adagio’s cheek, but a larger one was cut in her pride. Thyella only maintained this resistance for less than a second. Adagio’s control resumed and a face twisting with defiance uncurled back to a complacent blankness. The lead siren’s grin welted upon feeling her wound. “End her.” The other sirens’ song turned from bittersweet to metallic. Without any appearance of struggle the xiphos was brought down directly into Thyella’s stomach. Theonikas pulled out the only weapon he had and launched as if it were a giant, wrathful boomerang. Its shape made it ungraceful in the air and even less graceful upon landing through the expanse of golden hair that rested on the lead siren’s back as she walked back into her pool. Before hitting, the water, the other sirens’ song went from a metallic chant to a toxic screech that deafened Theonikas even from his position. He dived into the water and swam to the rocky ridge that separated the water beneath him from the spring. The two leaped from the spring to sing a venomous melody in his direction with all of their might, but the toxic screech was still burned into his eardrums. When he exited the water, the two ran in opposite direction. The hunter tackled the blue siren into the spring. He was too angry to see her tears or fear which he longed to witness. Aria looked towards the spring and ran back to it in the hopes to save at least one of her sisters. With a splash, Theonikas alone stood up from the pool. They stared each into each other’s backwards and broken souls. Aria’s rage showed more prominently than Theonikas’. Beneath the screech, he could see the words Aria mouthed at him. Two short words she yelled as she charged at him. Somehow, Theonikas was helpless to smack after smack to the face and her words were audible to him now. “Wake up! Wake up! Wake! The! Fuck! Up! Adagio!” “Get u--” Aria’s hand was caught on her final slap by the grip of her leader. “The landlord is gonna be here in like twenty minutes,” said Aria as quickly and meekly as possible upon realizing she went a little too far in waking her sister. Adagio felt the red marks on her face. Those were quite real as well as the alarm’s toxic, ongoing screech. “You don’t. Touch me. Again.” She went the bathroom to prep for oncoming responsibilities. “About damn time,” said Aria. Though this situation seemed violent and rare, this was how a good many of their mornings have gone since the fall. Before, Aria would have never dreamed about slapping her leader awake, but under the given circumstances, she knew she could get away with it and perhaps it was even justified. Today was special. They had not seen their landlord in months. He just realized that the trio had a nonexistent lease and simply had to arrange a meeting to resolve the misunderstanding or at least figure out how this issue managed to slip his mind for so long. “So what’s your brilliant plan out of this one, fearless leader?” asked Aria with lethal sarcasm. “I’m going to clarify how we thought that we paid him. I’ll use my charm. Hopefully Sonata can do her thing that men seem to melt over. Maybe, by some miracle, you can be likable,” explained Adagio over both the shower and sink. “What if I hit him with a frying pan?” deadpanned Aria. “Last resort.” Sonata was sitting vegetative in the living room staring at the TV with a bowl of Coco Puffs. Why she was enamored with a car auction was just one of those questions that Aria simply did not care about. “Sonata, go get dressed. You have to look cute or something. Y’know, not your usual, hideous morning self.” “Five more minutes Aria. It’s a 1971 Pontiac GTO Judge and I wanna see how much it goes for.” “When have you ever, ever, ever cared about cars?” said an impatient Aria. “Since always,” replied Sonata. “Since never,” bantered Aria, completing the usual morning routine of pulling Sonata from the television. After a mere ten minutes of time in the bathroom, Adagio stepped out of the bathroom looking as if she had been prepping for an hour. A skill acquired from centuries of attempting to look like a goddess. “Aria, go get the emergency duffel.” “The flighty bag? Already?” questioned Sonata. Adagio made her last adjustments in the living room mirror. “It’s just a precaution. We need to know if we’re still equipped for this sort of thing.” Aria retrieved a stuffed duffel bag. Living as migrants for the past thousand years could be tricky whenever victims caught on. A quick escape and few things to help them in the case of magic not being an option were crucial. Upon opening it, Adagio viewed its contents with a certain amount of antipathy. Two changes of clothes, hygiene products, a stack of fake IDs and other contrived documents were Adagio’s contribution. Pushed off to the outside of the bag were two boxes of now smooshed Twinkies and a saucy romance novel half read by the bubbly blue siren. Underneath Sonata’s input was that of the less cheery siren. An ill gotten Ruger MkIII and $3000 in cash. “Aria, what the hell is this and where did you get it from?” Aria glanced inside the bag acting as if she had never seen the thing before. It didn’t fool her sister. “Oh, that? Randy.” “It originally belonged to a Randy or you named it Randy?” questioned the now concerned lead siren. “That’s his name. See, I carved it right there.” “What is it, Dagi?” interjected Sonata. “Ohhh, I bet know what it is. I named mine Logan.” Garnering the attention of her sisters’ confused and slightly disgusted gazes, Sonata redacted her statement. “Not what we’re talking about? Gotcha.” A knock at the door ended the awkward moment. Aria fled to the kitchen with the duffel bag. Sonata froze and stared at her sister as she calmly walked to the door. “Hi, Ms. Dazzle?” queried the short man at the door. He held a folder and looked fairly stressed out, the kind of stress one gets when thousands of dollars that are supposed to be one place are not. “Mr. Lock,” said Adagio as jovially as possible. “Call me Adagio.” Mr. Lock took another look at his clipboard. “So, we have quite the conundrum on our hands don’t we.” “We sure do. I have no idea what happened. I mean it’s a standing order right?” She turned to her sisters. Aria stood by the island mouthing “frying pan” while Sonata was across the doorway ready to jump in for support. “We still have that with our bank, don’t we girls,” asked Adagio. Her sisters merely nodded. “Standing order? At a bank? I’m not sure what you mean by that.” Adagio was stumped for this one. She hadn’t actually paid a rent in a long time. Luckily, Sonata was there in case everybody became equally clueless. She was the best at it. “It’s like, uh… What’s it called?” said Sonata with a very tactical use of her absent-mindedness. “A payment plan?” Falling right into the siren’s non-musical trap, the dangerous girl could proceed. “That’s it! You are like so smart. How could you not know what a payment plan is?” Adagio could roll with the plan now. “I bet it’s because he hasn’t spent much time being a landlord. I mean you can’t be more than what? Twenty-eight?” His clothing and lines suggested something closer to forty. Some awkward shoulder movement and smile indicated a crack. Just what the Adagio needed. “You know what, why don’t you come in and have seat, my sister, Aria, can make you some tea.” Mr. Lock was buttered up well enough to take this offer without hesitating. While Aria stared at cupboard trying to unlock ancient memories involving brewing tea, Sonata flipped the TV back on hoping to create as distracting as an environment possible for Lock. “So, Mr. Lock, do you like cars?” asked Sonata in an attempt to find another weak point. “I love cars, is that a 71’ GTO Judge?” Adagio jumped back in to continue the assault. “Why it is. Where did you learn about cars?” Aria rolled her eyes having abandoned any recollection of tea brewing in favor of popping in a K-cup. “I bet he learned from first-hand experience. He looks like he knows how to treat a fast and beautiful machine.” Lock turned around to see the disingenuous girl. After about a second of staring, the memories came back to him. “You… you were at Walker’s place in Oregon. You were the one I lost Randy to.” The sirens were dumbfounded. Aria was the first to respond to this accusation. “Uh, what the hell are you talking about?” “You know damn well what I’m talking about! That dirty bitch rooster of yours’ killed Costantinos!” “I honestly do not know what you are—” “I lost three grand, my favorite gun, and my best gamecock all in the same hour!” Adagio had to intervene. “Now, now, now, my little sis is only nineteen years old. She’s been living in this area since she was born. How could she have possibly been involved in… whatever you’re talking about?” Lock turned away and sighed. “I’m sorry. She just looks so familiar. And that voice, that haunting voi—” “Aria!” screamed Adagio upon seeing her rebellious and vengeful sister place an untamed blow upon Lock’s head with the frying pan. The three girls gawked at the limp man now taking an obligatory intimacy with the floor. Without looking away from Lock, Adagio beckoned Sonata. “Get the duffel. We need to go.” Sonata rushed into action while Adagio turned attention to Aria. “What the hell was that?” “I have a plan Adagio. We just put him at the bottom of the stairs and he’ll think he fell.” Adagio despaired at the ridiculous idea, not because of its absurdity, but because it was pretty close to what she was thinking. “No. We put him in his own bed. He’ll be more confused that way. I think he lives a few floors up. Go check.” When the pan-wielder left the room, Adagio was left with just the TV on and a commercial actually caught her eye. “Fridays at 9:00. Bestselling author, Daring Do tackles the greatest mysteries of all time.” Though the words didn’t strike her, the images did. Three all too familiar stones in a glass case flashed on the screen along with other priceless centerpieces that she couldn’t care less about. Rewind, play, rewind, play. They couldn’t be the same stones. “Aria, I need a second opinion.” Aria came back in the room with an address and a grimace. “Well, we could kill him but the last time we did tha…” She trailed off at the sight of the pendants paused on the screen. “No way.” Adagio regained a smile that hadn’t been present since their battle with the Rainbooms. “I think we need to give this show a watch. That is, after landlord over there is clueless again.” Aria’s eyes were on the pendants again after a brief look back at Lock. “We should still get out of here though.” “Obviously.”