Aelyros held out his goblet as a servant refilled it with fine wine. He lay back on the couch, glancing at the dark-haired man who sat upright on the couch beside him.

“Still recovering?” asked the man quietly, a tanned patrician in his thirties, as he sipped from his own wine cup.

“Aye, Perephon,” replied Aelyros soberly as he nursed his goblet. He turned his head to gaze out one of the room’s small windows.

The two men were silent for a long while. Eventually Perephon took a deep breath and began softly, “I understand, it is hard; the loss of them both. But it was... supernatural circumstances, after all. Many are those who lost loved ones on that dark night. My own brother lost his life. Even Valeseus himself met his fate. And...”

Perephon glanced up and fell into silence as he saw the distant look on his friend's face.

“Alydectes...” Aelyros murmured sadly, “Aelynda... my children...”

He closed his eyes and raised a hand to his forehead. Perephon watched him in solemn silence, feeling his friend's pain and loss.

“I’m sorry, Perephon,” Aelyros said eventually, looking up at his friend wearily.

“There is no need to apologize, Aelyros,” replied Perephon sympathetically. “I wouldn’t blame you for mourning their loss a decade from now, let alone a mere month since they left for Hades. Feel no shame, nor think that I am in any way bothered by your wholly understandable grief.”

“You are a true friend, Perephon,” said Aelyros with a grateful smile, then noticed his friend's empty goblet. “Would you like more wine?”

“No, no,” replied Perephon with a laugh, “not to sound condescending but I consider myself a wise man when it comes to indulgence.”

They both laughed, the mood lightening a little.

“Have you heard of the new hero?” asked Perephon after a short silence.

“How could I not have,” replied Aelyros, “people speak of little else! Talk of her heroic deeds flows like water in the streets, the markets, family gatherings and even high society like ourselves.”

“And your opinion of her?”

“Well, the truth is that I knew of this girl long before she was hailed as a hero,” explained Aelyros, “I learned of her from my two children as they happened to have trained alongside her. Ava, that was her name.”

“And what do you think of this ‘Ava’?” asked Perephon.

“I must admit that I don’t know her at all,” Aelyros admitted, “I’ve never met her or even laid eyes upon her. But people seem to think she’s a... a 'new Valeseus', if you know what I mean.”

“She’s certainly taken his place as a public hero,” agreed Perephon, “but Valeseus was no demigod.”

“True,” said Aelyros with a wry smile, “a supernatural hero in times of supernatural peril. Athena does indeed watch over us.”

“Every soldier of Athens fought bravely that night,” added Perephon proudly, “it was a dark day for our city, yet by their courage and sacrifice it was spared.”

“Yet I have seen no great praise or gushing adulation for them,” said Aelyros darkly as he poured the last dregs of wine into his mouth and refilled his goblet. “Do any remember those soldiers who gave their lives that day? Do they raise monuments to those who fell in defense of our city? Do they hail them as heroes?”

“You have a point,” admitted Perephon, “the public is infatuated with the new hero. Tales are told everywhere of her courage and heroism, the crowds adore her, and there are even... well, rumors are there are a great many in our city who believe that she should lead us.”

Aelyros sat up suddenly, choking on his wine. “What?” he spluttered in disbelief, “as consul?”

“No less than that,” replied Perephon, “I mean, think of it; to have a demigod leading our city!”

“They would allow some servant girl come public hero to lead our city as consul?!” exclaimed Aelyros indignantly. “What fitness does she have for the position?”

“She’s a demigod,” said Perephon flatly, “is that not enough?”

“Demigod or not, she has done nothing to prove that she has what it takes to lead our beloved city!” growled Aelyros, taking another swig of his wine, “one must have more than celebrity status to be suitable.”

“Ah, but, sadly, that is often all one needs to win over the hearts of the crowd,” said Perephon with a shrug. “To win a single wise man to your cause is nothing compared to winning a hundred fools.”

“She'll never make it,” snorted Aelyros, finishing his goblet and picking up the wine jar.

“Mind you don't have too much,” Perephon advised, watching warily as Aelyros refilled his cup.

Aelyros did not respond as he filled his cup to the brim and resumed drinking, staring into space from under lowered brows, his face twisted in agitation. Perephon watched him with a look of concern.

Aelyros drained the contents of his goblet and violently cast the vessel across the room.

“No-one remembers the sacrifices of those heroes who died!” he cried furiously. “They only honor the hero who lived!”

“Aelyros, please, calm yourself,” insisted Perephon, raising a hand.

Aelyros rose to his feet and stormed over to the window. From his home’s vantage point atop a hill he gazed out over the city of Athens with a dark frown. He surveyed the ruins of the southern seawall and the nearby houses which had been decimated by the monsters of the sea. Behind him, Perephon quietly picked up the wine jar and placed it in an out of the way spot.

“Perephon,” Aelyros said after a long silence, “my children gave everything they had for our city. Without hesitation they gave their lives defending our gates against supernatural monsters. Why, I ask you, do their deaths go unsung?”

Perephon considered his response for a minute or two before replying.

“The populace like celebrity heroes,” he said eventually, “and it’s something to give them hope after all the loss and destruction. They mourn their lost loved ones, of course, but this hero is something they can celebrate. You understand?”

Aelyros was about to reply but was interrupted by a quiet voice.

“He’s only saying that to calm your wrath. You both understand that this is injustice...”

Aelyros glanced over his shoulder and around the room, searching for the person who spoke. He saw only Perephon.

“The injustice that people would hail the 'hero' who lived, but not those died.”

Aelyros put a hand to his forehead, wondering if the voice was an effect of the wine.

“This so-called 'hero' has no noble intentions. She did not save your beloved city because it was her duty; she did it to win the adoration of the masses and rise to consulship. She will stop at nothing to...”

Aelyros shook his head vigorously, but the voice would not go away.

“To become supreme ruler of Athens... once she reigns, she will destroy democracy and assume total power as Queen of Athens.”

“Of course,” muttered Aelyros, trying desperately to think straight through the miasma of drunkenness, “of course... that was always her plan...”

“Aelyros…” said Perephon concernedly, “are you alright?”

Aelyros turned to his friend with a look of fierce determination.

“Perephon,” he said sternly.

“Yes?” Perephon asked nervously.

“I will show the people of Athens that this 'hero' is not the hero they believe her to be.”

“Aelyros,” said Perephon slowly, “are you quite certain of what you’re saying?”

“Yes! By the Gods of Olympus, yes!” Aelyros replied passionately. “This hero is nothing but a power-hungry rabble-rouser who will surely lead our city to tragedy. I will never, I swear by Athena herself that I will never, let her become consul, and I will show the people of Athens that she is not the hero they believe her to be!”

   *   *   *

Soft laughter rippled through the tall pines of the Caeliphals, causing the birds perched in the treetops to take flight and flee in terror. A lone figure lay in a glade beside a small pond, surrounded by the thick forest. Her face was clearly reflected in the still water: narrow, with sharp features, gleeful green eyes and a trickster smile, framed by long raven-black hair.

“Yes, Aelyros,” Eris said softly, her face taking on a solemn look, “lead the true saviors of Athens against this false hero. Save your beloved city from her malevolent intents.”

After a few moments she broke into a devious smile followed by cackles of laughter.

“To think finding the perfect candidate would be so easy, and that swaying him would be even easier!” she shrieked gleefully, smashing her fist into the still water and sending violent ripples across the pond.

When the pond had calmed, Eris waved her hand over it. The water shimmered for a moment and the face of a young woman appeared beneath its surface.

“Ah, Ava,” Eris said sympathetically, “champion of Athena, savior of Athens. You have done so much for your beloved city and yet you will be instrumental in its destruction. I may have spared you and your people from Poseidon’s wrath, but surely you didn’t think I did it out of kindness? I didn’t do it for you or for Athena or for any one of your city’s pathetic inhabitants. I saved your city for my own amusement. After all, what is destruction at the hands of Poseidon's children compared to an entire city tearing itself apart in civil war? Surely the latter is so much more... satisfying.”

She laughed softly, smiling wickedly down at Ava.

“And what shall become of you?” Eris continued, picking up a small pebble and examining it absentmindedly. “Will you live through it all… or perish amidst the chaos? Now is too early to say... but don't worry, Ava, whatever happens I will not forget about you.”

Another peel of laughter broke from her as she held the pebble over the water.

“Eris will not forget you...”

She dropped the stone into the pond, shattering the vision in a tide of ripples.