Pharikaās Chosen Part 1
Hey yāall! Seeing as we wonāt be getting an official Theros Beyond Story, I decided to write my own. It would mean a lot if you read it! Itās about the war of the Gods in Meletis.
Achlys stifled a yawn. Her green tunic was stained with sweat and grime, while her black cloak lay discarded in the next room over ever since a patient threw up on it. She hadnāt had time to clean it yet.
With how long the vomit has had to seep into the cloth, Iāll probably end up burning it.
She had been at work in her apothecary the entire night, taking care of too-drunk-for-their-own-good revelers. The satyrs had come to Meletis for one of their Rollick Nights, offering the citizens a welcome break from routine and a chance to forget their worries.
Achlysā small apothecary was suddenly filled with light. The dawn had finally come.
Speaking of worries, she mused, winking at the sunās first light in the traditional gesture of respect. Ā Heliodās oracles had been acting strange lately, with most being uncharacteristically silent. The few that still spoke only talked about the Sun God being agitated and angry, and of some great event or catastrophe. It had the entire city on edge.
The citizens of the polis get to relax and calm down and I get to take their money to get rid of their hangovers. Itās a win-win situation.
Her string of thought was interrupted by loud knocking at the door.
āBe right there!ā, she said, going towards the sound.
The knocking would not stop. Achlys noticed it was almost rhythmical, in a chaotic, ever-changing way of sharp knocks and slaps. It was grating, to say the least.
Iām charging this one extra.
She opened the door only to have her would-be-patient barrel right through the doorway and into her apothecary. The woman wore white and pink. Her hair sported a garland of flowers dangling from her horns and her goat legs made quite the noise, stamping around the room.
āOh Godsā, Achlys sighed. āI thought satyrs couldnāt get drunk? What are you doing in my practice? Please donāt touch that.ā
āOh no, we absolutely can. But Iām not drunk, Iām just here for a courtesy visit. This smells weirdā, she said, dangling some echinacea in front of Achlys. The satyrās other hand still held a half-empty amphorae of Ā wine. āCan I eat it? Better yet, can I make alcohol from it?ā
For the love of Pharika.
āPlease donāt eat my herbsā, she said coldly. āUnless you need medical help, I would ask you to leave my apothecary.ā
āThatās not nice at all. We just met! Iām Gallia, by the way. Youāre the one whoās helping all the drunk people, right? The famous healer, Pharikaās chosen?ā
āIām Achlys. Youāre the one whoās making them drunk, Iām guessing.ā
āYes, itās an innate satyr talentā, Gallia grinned. āItās not fair for you be to cooped up in here while everyone is having fun. Donāt you want to come to the revelry? Iāll be your guideā, she said, coming closer and grabbing Achlys by the hand. āI have quite the name in satyr circles. Iām practically royalty. I can get you some great drinks.ā
āPharika taught me too much about poisons for me to want to drink satyr wineā, Achlys said, detaching Galliaās hand from hers.
āNow youāre just being rudeā, Gallia said, still holding the same playful smile.
āYes, andā¦ā The sound of drums interrupted her. āWhat are you doing this time?ā, she asked Gallia.
āOh no, thatās definitely not us. We donāt do drum beating this early in the morning, we have manners.ā
Curious, Achlys went back to the half-open door. Her apothecary was situated in one of the hills of Meletis, affording her a decent view over the city and the valley beyond its walls.
The drumming was coming from outside the city. It had a frantic, angry rhythm and upon seeing its source Achlys could understand why.
Hundreds -no, thousands- of minotaurs, over half of them Nyxborn, had crested the heights outside Meletis and were streaming into the valley. The watchtowers guarding the area were already on fire and crumbling. The horde was moving quickly, ever closer to the cityās walls. In its front ranks, standing taller than all others, stood a nyxborn minotaur carrying a flaming double handed axe.
āIs this what Heliodās priests warned of?ā, Achlys said out loud.
āThereās more comingā, Gallia said, motioning to the other side of the valley river. Her voice was a bit more serious now.
Achlys let out a gasp. Entering the valley and on a collision course with the minotaur army was a phalanx of returned, evident from their golden masks. Their steps echoing those of long dead hoplites, they inexorably moved towards the minotaurs and the city beyond, shields and spears raised for battle.
āGods help usā, Achlys whispered.
āBit late for that, probablyā, Gallia replied. āHey, where are you going?ā
āTo the wallsā, Achlys said over her shoulder. āThey will need healers in the battle to come.ā
āOh, thatās mighty brave of you! Iām going to get my band and get out of here instead. Itās been nice!ā
Gallia blew a kiss at Achlys and sprinted down an alley, back towards the central plaza. Achlys continued on to the walls. Those of the citizens who had not participated in the revel were just waking up, alarmed by the drums. A number of men and women running to the walls passed her by too, still stumbling from the drinking, hurriedly donning pieces of armor.
She had almost made it to one of the city gates when she heard a roar overhead. Looking up, she saw an enormous dragon passing over the city, heading towards the valley. It seemed like the entire city had frozen in fear from his passing, only snapping out of it once the wyrmās shadow had moved past the walls.
Passing over the minotaur horde, the dragon let loose its breath of fire. It covered dozens of the beasts, burning them alive and scorching the ground beneath them clear. Some reluctant cheers came from the walls, which intensified as the dragon came back for a second strike at the minotaurs.
āThank Purphorosā, said a woman next to her. āThe God of the Forge is coming to our aid.ā
The dragon flew over the horde once more. This time, however, it did not breathe its fire. Instead, it flew towards the walls of Meletis, blessed by Ephara herself.
With a great flap of its wings, it unleashed a torrent of fire right at them.
The walls held magic inside them, but nothing could withstand a fire as hot as that of Purphorosā forge. By the time the dragon was done, an entire section of the walls lay in ruins, even the stone itself melted by the heat. The stench of burnt meat filled the air.
Achlys hurried her pace. Her oath to Pharika demanded that she help. She could not let more people die.
Breaking out in a sprint, she reached the fallen walls a few moments later. Upon arriving, she immediately saw a man lying face up on the pavement some distance from them. It looked like he had been thrown back before the fire had hit. He had no burns, but his legs were broken and bleeding.
Instinctively, she made for her satchel, but it was not there.
āDamnā, she mouthed. I left it back at the apothecary. Stupid!
She still had a small pouch of essentials that she carried with her. They would have to suffice until she could get back to retrieve the rest.
Achlys kneeled down next to the hoplite. He was unconscious but alive.
āThis might hurtā, she said, taking out a bandage from her pouch. She quickly dressed his wounds and made sure his legs were elevated. She wanted to drag him away from danger, but it would do more harm than good in his state. He needed help to carry him instead.
She heard footsteps approaching from behind her. āOh, thank the Godsā, she said, turning around. Then, she froze.
The woman in front of her was not alive. A golden mask in the shape of a hoplite shield covered her face, yet she could feel her eyes piercing her. Achlys, like most citizens of Meletis, had never seen a Returned before. The pale echo of humanity terrified her. She took a few steps back, exposing the man on the ground. The Returnedās gaze turned to him.
I canāt let her hurt him.
She reached back into her pouch, retrieving a small vial filled with a green liquid. She had never needed to use this before, although she always carried it with her. She hoped it would be enough. She swallowed the contents in one gulp.
A jolt went through her. She blinked, and time seemed to slow. She felt faster, stronger, more agile.
Pharika can do much more than heal and poison.
She ran at the Returned, slamming her into a wall nearby. The undead hoplite raised her spear to stab her, but she easily managed to wrest it from her grip and pierce her neck with it.
The zombie collapsed and Achlys stepped back, fully alert and ready. Her heart was racing and her black hair stuck to her olive skin from the exertion of running and fighting. She looked towards the gap in the wall. Beyond it, most of the minotaurs and undead had joined in battle. Others, mostly Returned, had made their way into Meletis.
She looked at the man, still lying there. The vialās power would allow her to carry him to safety, although its effects would not last long.
She had to move, and fast.
She knelt down and lifted the man up, then started running back towards her apothecary. She hadnāt made it far when more Returned blocked her way. She hurriedly looked for an escape route, but there was none.
The effects of the tonic were ending, but she had one more thing she could try. She retrieved a second vial from her pouch. This one was more simple in its design but much more devastating in its effect. It held pure acid.
Using the last bit of speed from the tonic, she lunged at one of the Returned and threw the acid at its legs. The effect was immediate, with the zombie falling to the ground in seconds. The way was open now. She could run.
Yet she could not leave the soldier behind. She bent down to pick him up again when she felt a sharp pain in her side.
Looking down, she saw a spearās tip protruding from her. With a cry of anguish, she tried to move, but found herself unable to. The rest of the Returned were soon on her.
Everything faded away.
#
A voice, somewhere far away.
āRise, child.ā
It was the first time she was hearing it, she was certain. She would absolutely remember such a voice, dripping with power as it was. Yet it felt familiar.
Closer now.
āYour role in this is not yet over.ā
It engulfed everything around her.
āRise again, as my instrument of war.ā
#
Achlys gasped, drawing air into her lungs. She could hear the sounds of battle all around her. She felt different. Like herself, but better. Stronger somehow.
Iām supposed to be dead.
She got up, feeling for the wound in her side. There was nothing there.
āWeāre only just beginningā, said the voice - Pharikaās voice - in her head.
Hope you enjoyed guys! Iād love to hear your thoughts on this. If you liked it, consider buying me a coffee over atĀ https://www.ko-fi.com/filipwrites. Iām going to tag @thevorthoscast and @voiceofallmtg too for some signal boosting. Ā
