TORIN YOUTH – CHAPTER 09: THE SON

Water rushes violently within the maelstrom surrounding Helicon Island.

A clawed hand bursts from the swirling tide…

…followed by Cadmeia breaking the surface, the giantess’s torso emerging as she gulps in another breath.

Her long scarlet hair blankets her face.

The Vixen peeks toward the side of the island, gauging her distance.

With determination etched across her features, she erupts from the water.

Her claws dig deep into the island’s stone foundation as she slams into it, as if hurled by the raging current.

She grimaces, exhausted, yet driven to climb.

Leaping from one outcropping to the next, she ascends rapidly, the sheer power of her massive form on full display.

Meanwhile, at the summit, Helia, Gale, and the members of Team Three are being interrogated by a winged centaur clad in white armor.

“What kind of welcome is that?” Helia asks, flicking her eyes toward the golden spear in the centaur’s grasp. “Is that how you greet all your guests?”

“Your lack of sincerity is duly noted,” the centaur replies, her gaze shifting beneath her helm to the other members of the team.

“We’re here to save a friend,” Bia shouts. “He’s being brought here by a giant fox woman. Likely to be sacrificed.”

The centaur raises an eyebrow beneath her helm.

“Sacrifice, you say?” she asks.

“Yes,” Bia answers, glancing around. “Did we arrive before them?”

“I have not seen them,” the centaur replies. “But if they are here, they would be heading toward the Temple of Death, where the Transmatrix lies.”

“The Temple of Death?” Gale says, her voice heavy with concern. “That sounds awful.”

“The Oiriopata believed death was necessary for growth,” the centaur explains. “We protect their legacy.”

She turns her equine body toward the jungle and begins to walk.

“I am Andromeda,” she adds. “You may follow me.”

On another side of the island, Cadmeia’s hand slams down as she reaches the summit.

She hauls herself up, panting heavily.

The fox giantess crawls forward until she is safely away from the edge.

Then she collapses, utterly spent.

Her mouth falls open and her tongue spills onto the ground, revealing Atreus and Sophean huddled back to back within.

They slide down her tongue onto the ground. Cadmeia barely has the strength to pull it back into her mouth.

She lies still, breathing heavily.

“You made it,” Atreus says, smiling to encourage her. “That was amazing. No, better yet—you are amazing.”

Cadmeia manages a faint smile.

Sophean adjusts his robe and trousers, beaming.

“The Will is mighty indeed, even without mastery of her full power,” he says proudly. “To make such a journey—incredible.”

“It probably wouldn’t hurt to let her rest here for a while,” Atreus says, taking in how exhausted she is.

Cadmeia laughs softly. “I only need a minute. I didn’t come this far to stop now.”

As Atreus and Sophean wait for Cadmeia to catch her breath, the harpies and Team Three navigate the jungle with the centaur as their guide.

They emerge into the ruins of a city, illuminated by braziers kept burning by vigilant centaurs. Dawn’s first light makes the ancient structures unmistakable.

“We, the centaurs of Helicon Island, were charged by the Oiriopata with preserving their ancient knowledge and artifacts,” Andromeda explains as she leads them through the ruins. “There are some relics, however, from which we keep our distance. The Transmatrix is one such artifact.”

Gale’s expression darkens.

“Why is that?” the harpy asks.

“The Transmatrix is a dark, seductive force,” Andromeda answers. “The Oiriopata eventually came to fear what they had created, and left it here, where they would not be tempted by its power.”

“So where is it now?” Rhea asks, still perched atop Helia’s head.

Andromeda points toward the distant ruins of an acropolis, isolated from the rest of the city.

“The only reason it has never been destroyed,” she continues, “is that no one can resist its seductive whispers.”

As the words leave the giant centaur woman’s mouth, Cadmeia bursts into the ruins, sprinting on all fours. Atreus and Sophean cling to her head, gripping her scarlet hair for dear life.

She spots the two harpies speaking with the centaur and slows her pace.

The harpies wear items that are unmistakable to Cadmeia.

The violet headband on Helia’s head and the gold choker around Gale’s neck are clearly made by human hands.

“Those are Torinian harpies,” she murmurs.

Atreus recognizes them instantly and calls out as Cadmeia draws closer.

“HELIA! GALE! What are you two doing here?” he shouts.

“Are these friends of yours?” Cadmeia asks.

“Yes,” Atreus replies. “For most of my life, they were my only friends.”

Cadmeia rises upright, carefully lifting the two tiny passengers into her hands.

“There’s my little booger!” Helia says, grinning widely.

“He’s alive!” Leon cheers. “Look, Bia!”

Bia’s eyes well with tears as the memory rushes back, the moment she thought she had lost Atreus to the Scarlet Vixen.

“I thought… he was gone for good,” she sobs.

Rhea’s expression hardens as she looks at the young man, her brow knitting.

Andromeda approaches Cadmeia, studying the tiny figures cradled in the fox giantess’s hands.

“Have you come seeking the Transmatrix?” the centaur asks.

“Y-yes,” Cadmeia answers hesitantly.

“I will not forbid you,” Andromeda says, “but I will warn you. Its power comes with a price you may find too costly.”

“I—I’m aware of the cost,” Cadmeia replies.

“Most believe they are,” the centaur says, leveling her golden spear toward the distant acropolis, “until afterward.”

She turns and trots away.

Atreus watches her go, puzzled.

“A price?” he asks quietly. “She didn’t say anything about it costing something.”

He looks back into Cadmeia’s eyes, searching her face, unsure whether he can truly trust her—or whether he has been naïve.

Cadmeia meets his gaze with an awkward smile. She shifts uncomfortably, and the sight only deepens Atreus’s unease.

She kneels and gently sets Atreus on the ground, keeping Sophean in her hands.

“Don’t you want to catch up with your friends, son?” she asks.

“Oh—right. The tiny friends…” Helia says, suddenly remembering the humans perched on her head.

Helia and Gale both stoop, allowing the humans to move to their shoulders and slide down along their wings to the ground.

Rhea follows reluctantly, descending with care, one arm secured in a sling.

Atreus and Leon clasp hands.

“BROTHER!” they shout in unison.

“We must perform together again,” Leon says.

“I can’t wait,” Atreus replies. “You play a mean lu—”

Bia tackles him before he can finish.

She lifts the taller boy clean off the ground and squeezes him tightly.

“Atriiiiiiiiiiii!” she squeals.

Atreus turns blue, wheezing, “…Too… strong…”

“WHOOPSIE!” Bia says, releasing him.

Atreus drops to the ground, gasping for air.

“I… missed you, Bia,” he manages, smiling weakly.

Bia’s eyes light up.

“Did you hear that, Leon?” she says suggestively, waggling her eyebrows. “He said he missed me.”

Cadmeia’s nerves finally ease as she watches her son reunited with his friends. She smiles warmly at the tiny girl celebrating so enthusiastically.

Atreus sits up as Rhea approaches.

She looks down at him condescendingly, as usual.

“Why do you insist on making me suffer your existence?” she asks, scowling.

Atreus inhales sharply when he sees her injuries.

“Rhea…”

He rises to approach her.

“I don’t recall telling you to stand up,” Rhea says coldly.

“I know—you didn’t,” Atreus replies, his eyes tracing the many bandages wrapped around her.

For a brief moment, uncertainty flickers across Rhea’s face. She steps back, folding her arms tighter across her chest.

“Don’t you dare look at me with pity in your eyes, Atreus Speros,” she snaps.

“Rhea… I wasn’t pitying you,” Atreus says. “I was admiring your strength.”

Rhea gasps and freezes, her face flushing brightly.

Atreus slowly reaches toward her, gently brushing the hair away from her face, trying to get a better look.

“W-what are you tr-trying to do to m-me?” she asks, visibly flustered. “W-why aren’t you… like before?”

Atreus pauses, considering her words, his gaze drifting aside.

“Like before?” he repeats.

“I suppose… life is what happened,” he says lightly. “Are you still the same girl I knew before?”

Rhea bites her lip, uncertain how to respond.

Then she catches herself.

Her jaw tightens. Anger surges back to the surface.

“BAH! How does anyone put up with this... LOSER?”

Concern ripples through the group as Rhea storms away.

“Hey, what’s your problem?” Helia calls after her.

“It’s okay, Helia,” Atreus says quietly. “It’s my fault. I invaded Rhea’s space.”

Rhea spins back toward him and shouts, “THERE CANNOT POSSIBLY BE ENOUGH SPACE TO PUT BETWEEN ME AND YOU.”

A heavy silence settles over the others.

Rhea exhales, calming herself.

“We… we simply cannot coexist in this world—you and I,” she says, forcing the words out.

“Why not?” Atreus asks, bewildered. “I’m not even asking you to like me, Rhea. I’m only asking you not to push me away!”

Bia watches quietly, understanding more than others, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Rhea exhales sharply. “It’s… it’s because…” Her voice falters. “You bring out the worst in me.”

Rhea folds her arms, her head lowered.

“So just… stop.”

Atreus turns away, honoring her request.

“Understood,” he says softly.

Cadmeia breathes her son’s name, her heart aching. “Atreus…”

Sophean calls out from the palm of her hand.

“Will of Utalle—now is your opportunity,” he gently reminds her.

Cadmeia’s eyes widen as realization strikes.

She straightens, cradling Sophean, and breaks into a run toward the Temple of Death atop the acropolis.

The others exchange bewildered looks.

“Hey—where’s she going?” Gale asks, alarmed.

“To the Transmatrix, looks like,” Bia says. “Could she be about to sacrifice that inu man who was with her?”

“SACRIFICE?” Atreus exclaims.

“Yes,” Leon answers. “A dridder named Khariklo told us the Transmatrix requires a sacrifice for its power to be used.”

Atreus lowers his head.

“That’s what the centaur was warning her about,” he says, disappointment heavy in his voice.

He looks up at Helia, steadying himself.

“I need you to get me there. Now. I can’t let her go through with this.”

Cadmeia climbs and leaps, ascending toward the temple crowning the acropolis. The structure has three enclosing walls, its front left open, a row of pillars supporting the ceiling.

She rushes inside, searching desperately for any sign of the Transmatrix within the ancient sanctuary, its interior lit by braziers tended by the giant centaurs.

Deep within the temple lies an enormous circular pit. It is all the desperate giantess can find.

She gently sets Sophean down so they can search the seemingly empty ruins together.

“There’s nothing here…” she cries, her heart sinking. “I came all this way!”

“Could it be in this abyss?” Sophean asks, gesturing toward the pit.

“What kind of cruel trick is this?” Cadmeia demands. “Am I meant to jump into a bottomless pit?”

Atreus’s voice echoes through the sanctuary.

“Don’t do it, Mother!”

The fox giantess gasps. “Atreus!”

Helia and Gale lower the four Torinians down into the sanctuary.

“Is this why Khariklo insisted I bring you?” Cadmeia cries. “So you could try to stop me?”

“I never imagined you would be willing to sacrifice someone else for your happiness,” Atreus says as he approaches her alone. “Not like this.”

Cadmeia collapses to her knees and slumps forward, sobbing.

“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” she says. “How is this so terrible? Do you have any idea how many humans I’ve eaten since being trapped in this… monster’s body? What is one sacrifice, willingly given, compared to that?”

Atreus considers her words.

“I can’t imagine how hard these past twelve years have been for you,” he says gently. “And I won’t pretend I have the answer. I only know that… life is about finding ways to endure. To survive.”

“WHY?” Cadmeia sobs. “I didn’t ask for this!”

“No,” Atreus says softly, reaching out to touch her arm as she hides her face in her hands. “You didn’t. But you were a woman willing to sacrifice her own life for others. That woman was a hero. And I’m proud to be called her son—no matter the cost.”

Cadmeia looks down at the tiny young man beside her, deeply moved.

“My boy,” she whispers, touching his face with a single finger.

Atreus wraps his arms around her finger, hugging it tightly.

“I love you, Mother.”

Cadmeia smiles through her tears.

“I love you, Atreus.”

Sophean gently interjects, his voice calm and reverent.

“A journey not taken cannot be known. Now, you both understand what lies at the end of this path.”

The giantess exhales.

“And yet, I can feel myself becoming someone else if I remain in this body,” Cadmeia admits. “I don’t know who that person will be—and that frightens me.”

“That’s okay,” Atreus says gently. “It’s time. You’re not my mother, Cadmeia, anymore. But you’re not the Scarlet Vixen either. Let go, and allow that new person to emerge. I will do the same.”

Cadmeia wipes away her tears and steadies herself.

“I promise I won’t forget you, Atreus,” she says.

“If you do,” the boy replies with a faint smile, “I’ll find a way to jog your memory.”

Sophean smiles.

“Well then,” he says, “shall we be going?”

Cadmeia nods.

“Perhaps the centaurs here will allow us to rest before the journey home,” she says, lifting the inu man gently before turning toward the sanctuary’s entrance.

Atreus approaches Helia and Gale, who remain crouched near the entrance.

Both harpies are sobbing uncontrollably.

“WE HEARD EVERYTHING!” they cry in unison.

“Stop it, you big cry-birdies,” Atreus says, smiling. “You’re going to get me started too.”

Bia beams at him.

Leon pats Atreus on the shoulder.

“Nicely done.”

Atreus nods, a little embarrassed.

As he turns to leave the temple, something feels wrong.

Someone is missing.

Bia and Leon prepare to climb onto the harpies’ shoulders as they lower themselves toward the ground.

“Where’s Rhea?” Atreus asks.

Bia’s eyes widen as she looks past him, back into the temple.

“THERE!” she shouts, pointing.

Leon gasps. “Rhea… NO!”

Atreus turns.

Rhea stands at the edge of the abyss, staring down into the darkness.

“She wouldn’t…” he says, disbelief creeping into his voice.

Rhea turns to face them as they rush toward her.

“Don’t move, Rhea!” Leon shouts.

Outside, Cadmeia halts mid-step.

The fox giantess looks back inside, alarmed by the sudden cries.

Rhea stands there, wrapped in bandages, her body battered and broken. Yet, as Khariklo had said, the pain within her was far greater than the pain without.

“I can’t…” Rhea says softly, desperation trembling in her voice. “I can’t go back.”

Atreus reaches for her—

—but he is too late.

Rhea falls backward into the abyss, swallowed by darkness.

(NEXT CHAPTER)