Requiem for a Prodigal: Recent Episodes
Tim Novar
In an alternate timeline where the Roman Empire never existed, Asterius, a transhuman bouncer working on the Greek island of Mikonos, is plagued by terrifying nightmares. In his quest to find the source, he becomes entangled in a conspiracy involving buried temples and sleeping gods. Can he unravel the layers of deception before his world descends into madness?
In my role as protector, I escort my charge to the outside,
by retracing our route through a realm modified,
and escape each danger using tricks craftily applied.
When Ampelos felt we were now a safe distance, he instructed me how to depart the Realm of Forms.
I would have to delay my conversation with Ampelos about his intentions for the time being since I was still subject to his guidance in the Realm of Forms, and I had no idea how to return to my reality.
I arrive at the oracle of death, but dismissed,
and alone, I face underworld challenges meant to resist,
‘til together, we uncover a relic that shouldn’t exist.
After three trials, I fully expected a fourth to greet me before I arrived at the temple, and I was proven right in my presumption.
Only when I could no longer see the light at the entrance did I stop and do my best to remain hidden in the shadows, huddling to reduce my silhouette and commanding my breath to slow and calm.
We followed you to the island with many cats and machines,
while your journal gave us insight into your mind and your dreams,
where the spirit of a minotaur gave birth to your newest schemes.
“Not really a hephaesteon,” Thoth explained, “or at least not in the conventional sense of the word. Are you familiar with the thought experiment known as the ‘Ship of Theseus’?”
“What gives? You seemed rather calm when you walked into the Alehouse for someone who just had their entire team slaughtered.”
I was driven from paradise chased by a terror nocturnal,
and back home to reunite with an old friend, now paternal,
to begin a journey discovered in the pages of a journal.
Go to sleep, little baby
Avoid Phobetor’s black dreams
Run from beasts of dark wood
And all that is not good
I am here to quiet your screams
After a ten-hour ferry ride, I disembarked in a foul and grumpy mood. I would have preferred to have acquired reserved first-class accommodations, but because of my size, I knew I would not fit comfortably in any of the seats, and the cost was twice as much as I was willing to spend. Figuring I needed to stretch my funds as far as possible, I reluctantly bought a ticket for the general seating on the deck space and did my best to find a place for me and my bag.
“Never trouble trouble till trouble troubles you” has always been my favorite motto. So why did I leave the cushy paradise known as Mikonos with its libertine attitudes and where I passed by virtually unnoticed by the seasonal partygoers, except for the occasional flirtatious glance? And more importantly, why am I now on a ferry headed back to my hometown of Iraklion, a place that I had once sworn I would never return to? Would you believe me if I said it was because of a dream, or more appropriately, a series of nightmares?