Ansel
I never really understood how being unconscious worked. Was it like being in a state of half-death and half-life? No, it wasn't. My body was numb, not able to feel anything, but my mind was constantly working slowly but fully functioning. My other senses were dull because my mind was working slower than usual. No, it was not boring, but the signals our senses sent through nerves were lacking. Like a video suddenly bluffing. All but one of my senses was still functioning correctly, and my sense of hearing was well at certain moments. On certain occasions, I would hear what I could assume were doctors moving about, so at least I knew I was alive. But the scariest thing wasn't the possibility that I was dead but my lack of sensing time pass. It was as if time was nonexistent in my unconscious state. It made me appreciate being stuck in a classroom watching the clock hand move. With nothing better to do, my mind tried to make sense of my lack of sensing time. It was almost like time was an invisible wave that passed through us to allow us to experience time…or something like that. My thoughts began to get fuzzy, and then all the slow signals my body had been sending to my mind finally sped up and were received, jolting me awake. I sat up but regretted it; pain engulfed me like flames. Every inch of my body was screaming in protest. My sudden jolt-up definitely wasn't helping. Even my eyes seemed reluctant to adjust, but after some constant blinking, they did. I knew I had to be wary, but my brain was too overwhelmed with pain to even worry.
The room was odd, it looked nothing like a hospital. In front of me was a row of fifteen beds, each pushed against the wall. Against each of those beds was a small nightstand empty of any objects. There were no medical supplies or equipment to be found. On my right were beds lined up with a nightstand next to each one; again, no medical equipment or supplies. I frowned; the room was more like a resting room than a medical room. I was at the end of the row of beds, but I was against the room's end wall. Located in the middle of the room, at the very end, was a desk decorated with sheets of paper on top. Despite everything this room lacked, the walls caught my interest. The walls weren't like anything I had seen; they had a smooth texture that seemed to reflect the sun's light from the four windows on each side. Looking closely at it, the walls seemed made of…stone? Turning slightly to my side of the wall, I tried to feel the surface, but I froze when I stretched my hand. Where my skin should be were bandages covering my entire hand. Raising my other hand, I realized that both hands were bandaged to my wrist.
"Oh, the sword," I crocked.
It was only now that I realized just how dry my mouth was. It felt like I hadn't had a drink of water in centuries. Wait, how long have I been out, I thought. Then, an even scarier thought came to mind: what had happened to Mom and Peter? Before I could start panicking, the sound of doors opening caught my attention. Turning towards the room's entrance, a familiar ginger head stepped through. Noticing that I was staring at him, Peter practically ran towards me but stopped at the end of the bed. He looked good compared to the last time I had seen him. In fact, he looked as if nothing had happened. For a split second, I thought maybe everything had been some crazy dream. But when Peter spoke, that hope diminished.
"Ans, I'm so sorry for being a burden. I should have been the one protecting you, yet I couldn't help you or Ms.Nephus. I…"
He choked on his last words as tears began to fall. His body began to shake as if snow had started to fall. I shook my head and threw him my pillow.
"Stop that idiot. Didn't my mom tell you not to blame yourself? Besides, we're both alive; I bet my mom is still alive. She's too petty to die."
Despite my words, I still looked at him with concern. Looking at me, Peter seemed to understand what I really wanted to ask.
"I haven't been able to go and check. I just woke up yesterday."
So, still no news then. I sighed mentally, deciding to believe in my own words. Peter moved to stand beside me; glancing at him, I noticed his shirt. I usually care less about clothes, but Peter's shirt was different. There were symbol-like letters on his grey shirt. Despite never seeing those strange symbols, I understood what they said about God Valley High. I frowned, having never heard of a hospital with that name.
Pointing a finger at his shirt, I asked, "God Valley High, I've never heard of a place like that in Chicago. Where are we?"
Peter thought for a moment, then replied.
"If you can walk, let's meet someone who can better explain things to you."
Slowly, I began to walk with Peter's help. Everything was okay with my legs, but not using them made them stiff. By the time we reached the door, I could walk correctly. Stepping out of the room, I scanned the large hallway as we walked. The first thing I noticed was that the walls were indeed made out of some smooth stone. The floor, however, was made out of marble, at least that's what I think. Around the hallways were various doors with different numbers, almost like those in some school or office buildings. But what was most strange was that along the hallways were portraits of individuals dressed in battle armor or scenes from a battle. They were beautifully drawn, each painting having the most minor details taken care of. Then, standing against the walls were pedestals, each with a different item on top of it. Some pedestals had vases decorated with images, swords, and occasionally some kind of horn from an animal. Turning the corner, I bumped into Peter, ready to ask why he stopped. I looked over his shoulder. At first, I thought this might be a museum, but I had yet to learn. In front of us, a class of what looked like seven-year-olds was passing through. They held books in their hands, and some even had wooden swords strapped to their waists. Surprisingly, except for their colors, their shirts read the same as Peter's.
"What's with the shirts?" I asked.
I wanted to ask about the kids but decided to wait.
Peter watched the kids leave before replying, "You could say these shirts are umm…what do mortals call it…a uniform."
I didn't like how he said mortal as if he wasn't one either. But before I could call him out on it, we arrived in front of a uniquely decorated door. The door had hand drawings surrounding it, notes posted on it, and hand-engraved writing on it. It reminded me of a kindergarten teacher's door, but glancing up, I dismissed the thought. Hanging on the door was a sign reading, "Headmaster."
Peter nodded and went to open the door but stopped mid-turn.
He turned to me amusedly, "Please be open-minded."
Frowning, I stepped in. Just as quickly as I stepped in, I fell on my butt. Standing inside the room was a horse, except not really a horse. It was a creature that was both a man and a horse. Almost instantly, memories of Ms.Robinson surfaced. I backed away until my back was against the shut door.
Without looking at Peter, I quickly stood and said,
"Hurry, Peter. Get a sword. We need to kill that monster, but it kills us."
To my horror, Peter began to laugh. Unsure of what was happening, I forgot about the monster and turned to my friend.
"Dude, monster," I said, pointing at the monster dramatically with my hands.
But that seemed to only make him laugh harder. Giving up on getting an explanation for Peter, I turned to the monster. Except for looking more closely at the monster, the word monster seemed like an insult to it. Unlike Ms.Robinson, this man…yes, man…had intelligent eyes by the way he seemed to observe me. But more than that, he looked more like an old scholarly professor. With his long but well-kept brown bread and his long hair, along with a grey dress shirt and black coat, he honestly looked like someone who was a headmaster. However, two things made me doubt that. The first and most apparent was that he was part horse from the torso down. And the second was his tie; instead of a simple colored tie, he had a tie decorated with drawings that looked to be done by kids.
I raised an eyebrow, "the tie doesn't seem to suit the color scheme."
Again, the man pierced me with intelligent eyes as if assessing me by my words. Then, the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.
"I suppose it doesn't, but it was a gift from my students."
I wanted to question him about it, but by this time, Peter seemed to have recovered. After clearing his thoughts, Peter introduced us.
"Ans this Chiron trainer of heroes and headmasters of God Valley High."
"Chiron, this is Ansel Nephus unclaimed."
The name sounded familiar, but before I could remember it, I said, "But you're…what!"
I remembered that my mom used to tell me Greek myths as bedtime stories. One name that always popped out was Chiron, who was responsible for training Greek heroes and turning them into legends. But that wasn't possible. Then again, I saw my teacher turn into a monster. Assuming he was then…suddenly, my thoughts took an unexpected turn.
"Weren't you the one that trained Hercules? But you look nothing like the one I saw in that Hercules movie."
A deep frown overtook this smile as he let out a breath.
"it seems as though Lord Hermes and Lord Apollo's joke has greatly influenced mortals' perspectives-"
"Wait! I asked, "Apollo Hermes, as in the Greek gods that my mother used to tell me about," I asked, looking between Peter and Chiron. Casually I added,
"My mom used to tell me tales about the Greek gods, but what do they have to do with anything? Aren't they, you know, made up?"
As the words left my mouth, lightning shot down, despite a clear sky, hitting the tree outside. Having seen it from the window behind Chiron's desk, I frowned. The room was filled with the scent of burnt wood and a breeze of ozone.
"My boy, I will oversee my words. After all, the gods are very much alive," Chiron said, standing behind his desk.
Tentatively, he looked out the window, afraid another bolt would shoot down.
"But that's crazy," I said.
BOOM
Another lightning bolt and another tree down. Chiron, looking out the window, merely shook his head. When he turned around, I noticed his eyes inspecting me. Finally, his eyes landed on my bandaged hands.
"My boy, you say it's crazy, but you have slayed the Sphinx. A menacing monster who in olden times would destroy cities without even breaking a sweat, but yet you, a 15-year-old, slayed her. And not by solving her riddle like Oedipus but by fighting her. This is not a small feat, as not many have done what you have. So tell me, how can you believe that the Sphinx you killed is real but not the gods of Olympus." Chiron said as if daring me to come up with an excuse.
I stood there, allowing my mind to breathe, and took in everything that had been said and done. This felt like a colossal prank being played on me, but a small voice told me it wasn't. Cautiously, I walked over to the window and stood beside Chiron. Feeling my gaze drift, I looked out the window. It faced the front entrance, where a gold statue of a man holding a lighting bolt stood at the center. A golden gate surrounded the entrance, which seemed to stretch forever. But despite being placed to prevent someone from getting in or out, this gate had its doors wide open. Bushes of strawberries were lined up against the gate and up the passage to the school's stairs. On the sides of the courtyard were healthy green patches of grass. On one side of the grass were healthy and robust trees, and wines were growing out of them. The burnt trees left brown marks on the grass on the other side. Looking further away, I could see the silhouette of the city just down the school entrance.
Hesitatingly, I spoke, "Okay, let's say it is true that the gods aren't myths. What does this have to do with me? I don't even know how I killed Mrs. Robinson, not the Sphinx."
"Perhaps it's best if we walk as we talk. There is much to explain and much to do. Come, Ansel, allow me to show you around my school and possibly your home."
I didn't like the way he said home as if this place was meant to mean something more to me, but I stayed quiet. Chiron turned and then spoke to Peter.
"Peter, please inform Ezio that I wish to hear his report regarding his quest."
"Of course, Chiron," Peter said.
Chiron moved towards the door and walked out. Peter flashed me a thumbs-up as I followed. The rest of the hallway was more or less the same; occasionally, I would spot stairs leading up to another floor. Finally, we arrived at the end of a hallway with a single door. Getting a weird sense of deja vu, I hesitated to walk through. Amused by my hesitation, Chiron let out a small laugh. It was a mixture of both a human laugh and a horse. Ultimately, I walked through; luckily, I wasn't transported somewhere. Stepping out, the first time I noticed or smelled was the air. Although I knew the air was air, the air I inhaled as I stepped outside was cleaner and refreshing. As the door closed behind us, I decided to walk a little ahead of Chiron but stopped at the sight before me. It was…magical. The backyard of this place was more like a city than just a backyard. The landscape was flat, but nothing on top of this landscape was anything but flat. To my right was a training ground where kids fought against some kind of machine. To their right were other kids aiming their arrows at targets about fifty feet away. In front of these two was a shed where I could see kids grabbing weapons.
Further away from the shed were long tables with kids sitting, talking, or eating. To my left, however, things couldn't be any different from the right. Instead of having kids training, kids were tending to crops. A long and wide garden took up much of the left side, but there was a small pond up ahead, just where the garden ended. Drinking from that pond were the same Pegasus I had seen that night. A little ahead of the pond was an open-air horse stable. Some Pegasus seemed to be taken care of by some kids while others were riding them in the air. A shadow loomed over me as a kid riding a pegasus flew over me. I couldn't help but smile at the sight. This place was magical…no, I thought as my eyes drifted to the center of where I stood. Everything paled in comparison compared to everything around the building in front of me. Centered perfectly and standing alone was a colosseum. As if to emphasize its beauty, the Colosseum was bathed in a golden glow. Its shadow is cast on the forest behind it as if not even its shadow could rob the colossal amphitheater of its beauty. The Colosseum seemed carved of sturdy marble, but it was old. Some of the colors from the marble had long but faded, yet that only made it look more impressive. Its timeless elegance made it look like it could stand until the end of time. Even if the passage of time affected us, it would never touch this Colosseum. Making it a symbol, I thought. But this couldn't exist, I argued with myself, but I couldn't be sure the more I gazed at the Colosseum. Reluctantly, I ripped my gaze from the Colosseum and turned to Chiron, quietly observing me.
"Chiron, you said this is God Vally High, right?" I asked, now turning to see the old centaur.
"Yes," Chiron answered.
"Then which state are we in? I'm sure there isn't a school like this in Chicago."
"You're absolutely right. This school isn't in Chicago or in any state for that matter."
"Then where are we?"
"In a different realm separated from the mortal realm. This is Pantheon World, the world of the Greek."
I remembered the childhood stories I would read about different worlds. Now, hearing about these other worlds made me pale. How could any of this even make sense? I tried to grasp everything, but I couldn't. Seeing my confused face, Chiron continued.
"This world contains two different realms within it. The mortal world where you have lived for the past 15 years. It represents the mortal's lifestyle, actions, and way of life. But Pantheon World is the realm that represents Ancient Greece, the gods, monsters, and, more importantly, heroes. Although they are very different, they stem from one another as they used to be one."
If Chiron's words were valid, which they mostly were, then that would explain why the stories of Greek heroes were seen as myths. I thought for a moment, trying to figure out which question was more important to ask. Mom had always told me to think three times when asking a question; maybe this was why.
After some time, I spoke, "If they're like two sides of the same coin, then how come Ms.Robinson and Peter, or me for that matter, come from the mortal world? Shouldn't they be separate?"
Chiron nodded, seeming to approve of my question. Before answering, Chiron walked over to a patch of flowers and picked one up. I moved with him and watched as he picked up a flower I'd never seen. The flower had white pedals on one side and black ones on the other.
"Long ago, when the Olympians, with the help of Nemesis, Hecate, and Janus, separated the two realms, they left doorways to both worlds. These doors can be located for the most part, but sometimes they are constantly changing. They exist in both worlds but can only be activated through special means. This is why both Peter and you could come here. As for your opinion on them being separated… you're not entirely right. If a divine being were to do something, it would be mirrored into the mortal realm."
Carefully, Chiron picked off one of the white pedals; to my surprise, a black pedal also came off.
"This flower is called the Demi blossom due to the divided realms."
"So if a divine being left the stove on some random stove, it would magically be left on," I asked.
The idea sounded hilarious but scary at the same time. Chiron chuckled at my words.
"No, sorry, I'm not used to discussing this with kids your age. How should I put this? Each divine being has a domain that rules over; for example, Lord Zeus' domain is the sky. In fact, we just witnessed such a thing happen. When you insulted the existence of the gods, a lightning bolt was shot down, an automatic feature lord Zeus has that was him affecting his domain. So, somewhere in the mortal world, a lightning bolt was seen. It could happen anything, but because Olympus and Chicago are the centers of the two realms, it's usually affected Chicago."
Well, that would explain the bi-polar weather. Knowing that made me a bit bitter towards these gods. Maybe it was the gods that were bipolar. I mentally laughed at my own joke. But an even more severe question came to mind. Why? Why did the gods really want to separate the two realms? But before I could ask, a new voice called out the Chiron. A girl about 5'5 walked towards us with long, light brown wavy hair and honey-amber eyes. Still, they also looked like two miniature suns. She was beautiful, so I stared at her, but something was wrong. Something that only those who really watched her would be able to see.
Despite her undeniable beauty, her steps were hesitating, and her posture was slightly slumped. Her gaze often flickered downwards, avoiding the stares of the training or gardening kids as if she were afraid of being seen. Each step seemed uncertain as if she were a toddler navigating a world she felt didn't belong to her.
Her hands fidgeted nervously at her sides, fingers twisting and turning as if searching for something to hold onto. But it was her eyes that had made me second guess my thoughts. Like two miniature suns, her eyes burned so intensely that if push came to shove, it could burn the world. That intensity could be seen as solid determination, or maybe it was more like stubborn refusal. When she arrived, I began to double-think if this girl really did lack confidence. She wore a shirt similar to Peter's, except it was white, matching her black jean shorts. She reminded me of Alicia, who had an athletic frame with enormous beauty and eyes of stubborn refusal. Still, at the same time, this girl was nothing like Alicia. Alicia had always carried herself confidently, even when unsure, but this girl didn't. Yet I couldn't help but continue to stare at her. I listened as she spoke to Chiron.
"Hey, Chiron, Ezio is waiting in your office. He said you wanted to see him once he got back," the girl said.
It wasn't until Chiron addressed him that he snapped out of his observation.
"Ansel, this is Alea. She was one of the riders that brought you to the school and the healer that brought you back from the dead," Chiron said, looking between Alea and Ansel.
She stared at me for a minute. Maybe it was because Chiron made it a big deal that I had killed Ms.Robinson that I thought the girl would compliment me. Perhaps a 'oh wow, you killed that monster when we couldn't. You're amazing,' but that was just a foolish dream.
Instead, Alea said, "You talk in your sleep, and your bed hair really needs to be taken care of."
My hands went up to my hair, and I began to pat it down, feeling some strands of hair up.
"Ugh," I muttered under his breath.
"Well, I will have to take my leave, Ansel. There are more pressing matters to attend to, too. You will learn more about the history of this world in your history class," Chiron said, addressing Ansel.
Before I could say I didn't want to be in this place, Chiron turned to Alea.
"My dear, would you be so kind as to show Ansel around the school and get him his class material tomorrow? He will be staying in the common house until he is claimed. As for his squad, we will have to determine that during dinner, I'm afraid."
With that, Chiron galloped into the school.
"Well, come on," Alea said, beginning to walk. I got up and figured my day would get even crazier.