The Don’s Deadly Assassin

Prologue

1600 BC: Pelagios

I walk into the abode that is Mount Olympus, its towering peaks piercing through the Azure skies. The marbled hallways are mostly deserted today, but I do spot the Goddess Juno and the God Mars in an emotional argument over Mars’ affairs that are causing distress to the Goddess Venus.

They barely acknowledge me, just one of the hundreds of demigods to occasionally enter these hallowed grounds.

On most days, their lack of acknowledgment of us demigods would sting, but today, their disinterest is for the best.

I slink past them and cross to a gleaming white tower. The air around me shimmers with divine energy, reminding me of the sanctity of this place.

A reminder I don’t care for much, today.

Golden statues glint in the soft light that filters through the magnificent windows, their details etched with painstaking precision. Each one represents a god or goddess, immortalized in precious metal and stone, their expressions ranging from serene to fearsome.

Celestial music floats through the air. The soft, enchanting notes wrap themselves around my senses like silken tendrils, tempting to lull me into a dead calm where I can lose myself in their sweet embrace. But I shake off the allure, refusing to abandon my quest.

I walk through the many rooms, determinedly parting heavy curtains. When I don’t find him inside, I exit towards the gardens and courtyards at the back. I stand by the mosaic blue and white tiled walls, and my eyes dart through the landscape.

Beautiful Nymphs in barely there silken and chiffon dresses sit upon the lotus flowers and sing while the nature spirits tend to the floral splendor - watering and pruning the roses, lilies and irises.

Vines of ivy climb up the walls, their tendrils intertwining with the stone. The sound of rushing water fills the air, a melody that soothes the soul into a state of peaceful contemplation.

My gaze darts from one marble-sculpted statue to the next.

Then, I see him. A flash of movement catches my eye, drawing me out of the peace that yet again threatens to overcome me. A figure darts through the mist ahead, laughter ringing out on a gentle breeze.

The form materializes into none other than Cupid himself, engaged in a spirited game with another celestial being. They dart around one another in a hypnotic dance, their identities shrouded by the divine mists that wreath their forms.

"Tag, you're it!" Cupid exclaims, his voice both playful and ethereal. His companion giggles, attempting to dodge Cupid's touch.

I watch them for a moment, captivated by their carefree joy and beauty, before reminding myself of the gravity of my mission. With calculated movements, I creep closer, careful not to alert the pair to my presence.

My heart hammers in my chest, each beat a reminder of the perilous situation I have placed myself in.

"Is this really the best use of our time?" Cupid's companion asks, pausing mid-flight to catch their breath. "There are souls to be matched, after all."

"Even gods need a break sometimes," Cupid replies, brushing off the concern as he continues to pursue his friend. "And besides, who better than us to understand the importance of love and laughter?"

As I edge nearer, I can't help but feel the sting of bitter irony in Cupid’s words. If only they knew the havoc their whims had wreaked upon my own life, perhaps they would think twice before indulging so frivolously. If only they’d have helped save the woman who taught me how to love.

The familiar sorrow settles in my chest as I remember the stakes: justice for my now-dead mother and retribution for the pain inflicted upon the mortals below.

"Perhaps you're right," Cupid's companion concedes, laughing once more as they dodge Cupid's outstretched hand. "But don't let Venus find out, or she'll have our heads!"

"Let her try," Cupid retorts defiantly, his voice full of joy. "She knows as well as we do that the god of love cannot be bound by rules and regulations."

My heart pounds in my chest, but I force myself to remain still, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Ha! You'll have to be quicker than that!" Cupid taunts, dodging yet another playful swipe from his friend.

"Quicker, you say?" the companion retorts, a mischievous glint in their eye. "Perhaps if you weren't so distracted by your own reflection, I might stand a chance!"

"Who can blame me?" Cupid laughs, feigning offense. "I am, after all, quite irresistible."

The moment I've been waiting for finally arrives. Cupid's attention is momentarily diverted as he examines himself in a nearby mirror, his companion seizing the opportunity to charge at him playfully.

I step out of my hiding place with silent precision, closing the distance between myself and Cupid's unguarded quiver. My fingers tremble as I reach for one of his arrows, its rubied tip gleaming seductively.

"Come on then, show me what you've got!" Cupid challenges, his focus still on the mirror as he preens his large white feathered wings dipped in gold. His chest is broad, his face youthful with pink lips and perfect cheekbones, and he is handsome. By the gods, I know he’s aware of just how charming he is.

"Very well," the companion replies, grinning wickedly. "But don't say I didn't warn you!"

"Warn me? Ha!" Cupid scoffs. "There's nothing you can do that I haven't seen before!"

"Really now?" the companion muses, their voice dripping with intrigue. "Well, we shall see about that."

As they lunge toward one another, I seize my chance. My hand wraps around the smooth shaft of a single arrow, its latent power pulsating through my very being. The sensation is unlike anything I've ever experienced, a heady mixture of exhilaration and trepidation flooding my senses.

I can't help but shudder at the thought of the chaos this weapon could unleash, its potential for destruction both terrifying and alluring.

"Got you!" Cupid cries out triumphantly, his laughter mingling with the sound of his companion's feigned protests.

"Alright, alright," the companion concedes, still chuckling. "You win this round."

"Of course I do," Cupid boasts, fluttering his wings proudly as he rises a foot above the ground and looks down at his companion. "I am the god of love, after all."

As they remain busy, I make my hasty retreat, tightly clutching the stolen arrow. I hide it inside my robes and make way to my next stop - the mortal realm.

The memory of my mother's untimely death floods my mind as I descend down to the earth, and I’m transported to that fateful day when the gods cruelly snatched her away from me.

While my mother had lain dying in her bed in our home along the Tyrrhenian coast, I had ventured out to the cliff, salty tears burning my cheeks.

"Father, Neptune, I beseech thee!" I had called out over the seemingly indifferent abyss while salt-laden air whipped through my hair. "Hear my cry, and come to me in my time of need!"

In response to my anguished prayer, the seas below had churned and frothed as if stirred into life by an unseen force. From the tempestuous waves had emerged the god himself, a colossal figure hovering well over a hundred feet tall.

His hair had lashed around his face, and his arrow rested in the clutch of his hand, glowing a bright white like the stars in the night sky above.

His robes had looked dry and bellowed in the wind even though water was cascading off his divine form like a torrential downpour, his stormy blue eyes had locked with mine; those of his desperate offspring.

"Neptune," I had implored, voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. "I beg you, save my mother's life! Save the mortal woman you once loved!"

The immortal one had studied me for a long moment and I had felt the undeniable pull of our shared bloodline throughout my entire being, while his countenance remained unreadable.

I was supposed to be better, stronger, and above mortal whims and fancies.

"Son," when Neptune spoke, his voice sounded deep and powerful, like the ocean itself, "I cannot interfere with the divine will of the other gods. Pluto alone holds power over life and death. It is not my place to meddle in such affairs. Besides, entering into a war with him at this point would be foolish."

y heart sank at my father's words. Anger had raged within me, like stormy waves, for I too am of the ocean. "And what purpose does being a demigod serve, if I cannot even save my own mother?" I had shouted into the storm; each syllable dripping with bitterness.

"Your path is your own, Pelagios," my father replied, his eyes had not wavered once from my distraught ones. "You are forged from both mortal and divine blood, and you must find your own way in this world despite what you are.”

“And what am I, father, if not lost? You’ve waged wars with Pluto before. Do it again.”

“It upsets the balance of life,” Neptune had answered. “I say it for the last time, Pelagios: I won’t waver.”

“But you loved her!” I bellowed, yet all I received as an answer was his figure receding, white robes fading into the churning waters below, leaving only foam on the surface.

He left me to return home, only to find my mother had passed away alone.

Her sweet laughter still echoes in my ears, her loving embrace lingers upon my skin with warmth. The anguish I feel grows and festers within me, compelling me to forge ahead with my plan for revenge.

"Nothing can bring her back," I tell myself through gritted teeth, "but at least I can make them pay. Let them all feel the sting of my wrath," I think, my eyes gleaming with cruel intent.

"Every demigod woman shall fall in love with me, only to have their hearts shattered by my hand. Their divine parent would be forced to watch, to feel as helpless as they made me feel."

"First, I must visit the healer, Hygieia," I whisper to myself, staring at the horizon with steely determination. "Her father, Aesculapius, could have saved my mother but chose not to. She will be the first to experience the agony I now bear."

I begin my journey toward Hygieia's dwelling, each step bringing me closer to the start of my wicked plan.

"By Cupid's arrow, I will bring the gods to their knees, I swear it."

Lost in these dark thoughts, I barely notice when my surroundings begin to change. The opulence of Mount Olympus fades away, replaced by the natural beauty and serenity of the mortal realm.

The air is thick with the scent of blooming flowers and ripe fruit, and the sound of birdsong fills my ears.

I find myself standing before an apple orchard in Tyrrheni, where the sun casts dappled shadows on the ground beneath my feet. And there, amidst the verdant splendor, I catch sight of her: a woman so beautiful, the muse of epic poetry, a vision of beauty and grace.

"By the gods," I breathe, awestruck. A young girl with thin golden braids in between her luscious blonde locks, picking flowers and apples. The birdsong I heard was no bird. It was her.

As if sensing my presence, she turns towards me, her eyes meeting mine with an unreadable expression. As she opens her mouth to sing the last notes of her song, the world around us seems to fall away, leaving only the two of us suspended in time and space.

She finishes, and I burst into applause.

She blushes, as red as a rose.

“Fair lady,” I step forward. “I meant not to put you under the light.”

“Few venture to this secluded place, dear traveler,” she whispers. “I simply did not expect to find company.”

I feel a pang of guilt at ruining her time of solitude. "I am Pelagios," I introduce myself with a slight bow, seeking to convey respect despite the sinister intentions within me. "I come seeking a fair maiden named Hygieia.”

"Ah, Pelagios," she replies, still blushing. "You must be in dire need to seek out such a skilled healer." I can sense her fetching for more information, but I know she won’t ask. She’s genteel, she wouldn’t dare pry into my personal matters.

"Indeed," I admit, a hint of urgency coloring my tone. "I have traveled far, only to find myself quite lost upon arrival."

I can see my tale piques her interest, and her eyes light up in wonder. "It so happens that I know the way to Hygieia's dwelling," she reveals. Perhaps I could guide you there?”

Your kindness is truly a balm to my weary spirit." I look at her with gratitude - this beacon of light I came across on my dark journey. "I would be honored to accept your gracious offer."

We stand, and a gentle silence descends upon us. I can only guess at her inner thoughts - pondering the mysterious circumstances that have led me to her humble village. What drives me to seek Hygieia? What ailment or malady plagues me or perhaps someone dear to me? And yet, I offer nothing she doesn’t ask.

"Tell me," she ventures cautiously, "do you hail from faraway lands? I do not recognize your attire, nor have I ever heard a voice such as yours."

"Indeed," I answer with a smile. "My homeland lies beyond the great sea.”

“Oh?” she inquires, and her eyes go wide. “Did you not fear the journey?”

“I fear nothing, fair maiden,” I give her a daring wink. She blushes and turns away.

Her name? When did I begin to desire to know her name?

“What might your name be?”

“Calliope,” she whispers sweetly.

“Calliope,” I taste the sound on my lips.

Pray, would you possess parchment and ink?" I look at her inquiringly. “So I may draw you a map to guide your steps towards Hygieia's abode."

She wishes to aid me and please me, all while I am drowning in the green of this beautiful village girl’s eyes. Distraction serves no purpose, Pelagios, I remind myself as she offers to help me find Hygieia.

But how can I not be distracted by her cascading golden locks, the cinch in her waist, and the allure of her features? Poets could write sonnets of those lips. Her voice is a sweet bird, calling for awakening.

She asks if I possess parchment and ink. The way she offers to help, so kind and sweet, almost makes me believe I’m the one doing her a favor rather than the reverse.

That’s the power she has over me.

“Of course, sweet Calliope,” I smile at her, watching her cheeks puff into a blissful smile. I reach into my bag, feeling for parchment and pen, all the while lost in her countenance.

I pull out both and motion at her to take it. She giggles.

“What is it, Calliope?” I ask, amused. “Do you find me humorous?”

“That’s not a pen,” she laughs, not unkindly.

“I beg your –?” I begin, but just as I look down, turning the pen in my hand, it pricks me. A sharp sting pulses through my veins, and an intense rush of warmth floods my being.

I stare in shock as her laughter dances around me like playful fireflies in the night. The air crackles with an inexplicable energy, a magnetic force drawing me closer to her, and then, I hear her gasp.

“Oh, poor you,” she mutters, reaching to take my injured hand in her own. I quickly shift the clever cupid’s arrow to my other palm. Disbelief washes over me. The arrow is now smaller and thinner to fit where I put it. The tip of the heart is somewhat red. Blood. Mine.

I now hold the parchment and arrow away from the finger she is examining, protecting her from its power.

“You’re bleeding,” she shakes her head and lifts my finger to her mouth. She takes it in, sucking down on it gently and a surge of emotion unlike anything I've experienced before floods my senses, overwhelming me with a love so intense and profound that it drowns out any thoughts of revenge.

At that moment, all I desire is Calliope beside me, her laughter echoing through eternity.

I want her unlike anyone before. To imagine even a single hair on her head being harmed makes me want to rain chaos on whoever caused it.

Though I do not know her last name, her past, or her home, I vehemently believe I was led to find her. Tears slightly blur my sight as I watch her fuss over me.

This arrow, which I was to wield on Hygieia and the others, was fated to be wielded on me. I realize that revenge is a hollow pursuit compared to the warmth of her touch and the light in her eyes.

My heart beats with a newfound purpose as I gaze at Calliope. The world around me fades away, leaving just the tenderness of this moment.

“Are you hurt badly, dear Pelagios?” she asks, releasing my finger from her mouth. As if entranced, I let my finger briefly graze her chin before pulling away.

She gasps and darts her eyes around to see if anyone notices.

“Do you have a man, Calliope?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

She shakes her head, her chest heaving.

And in that moment, I realized she was made for me.

"Are you alright, Pelagios?" Calliope inquires again, concern painting her beautiful face as I don’t say more.

"Indeed, I am," I whisper, though I find myself unable to tear my gaze from her enchanting eyes. An unquenchable thirst blossoms within me - a longing to spend time with Calliope.

The burning fire of vengeance that once consumed my thoughts and directed my path now pales in comparison to the brilliant flame of love ignited by the cupid's arrow, enticing me to stay, to explore.

"Calliope," I begin, my voice soft and earnest, "I’d rather abandon our search for Hygieia."

"Abandon it?" she counters, taken aback by my sudden change of heart. "But you have come so far in your quest."

"Indeed, I have," I admit, "but this orchard is teeming with life and beauty. It would be a shame to let such an opportunity pass us by. What say you, dearest Calliope? Might we explore this bounty and perhaps uncover some new delights?"

Calliope hesitates, her brow furrowed in contemplation. She then gazes into my eyes, seemingly searching for something within them, and I can only hope that she finds what she seeks.

"Very well, Pelagios," she acquiesces with a gentle smile. "Let me show you what wonders this orchard has to offer.”

For the first time in my life, I feel light splitting into colorful rays.

We gather our basket, brimming with our pickings. It’s late, and we are both famished and weary.

“Shall we share some wine and have the fruits of our labor for supper?” I point at the basket holding fresh grapes, apples, strawberries and other delights we’ve picked all afternoon.

"An excellent suggestion, Pelagios," she agrees, her eyes alight with excitement. “I have no other chores whilst father and brother are away at sea.”

I hold back the smile lest she think I have ulterior motives. By proposing a night under the stars at the orchard, I hope to spend more time with her alone.

"Here," Calliope motions to a tranquil spot beneath an ancient, gnarled tree, spreading her soft stola on the ground under its wide canopy of leaves. "This shall be our shelter for the night."

"A beautiful choice," I agree, settling beside her on the stola. As we feast upon harvest, I am struck by the simple beauty of this moment – the sun-dappled orchard, the heady scent of blossoms, and most of all, Calliope’s presence at my side.

"Calliope," I begin, lost in the depths of her radiant eyes, "I must confess that this time spent with you has filled me with a joy I never dared hope for."

"Nor I," she admits, her cheeks flush a rosy hue. "I never imagined that our day together would lead to such sincere wonderment."

Under the vast canopy of the starry night, the celestial bodies shimmer between the leaves like gems sewn on a tapestry of violet and green.

Calliope and I recline upon our makeshift bed, gazing upward at the infinite heavens above us. Her soft hand finds mine, our fingers entwining as we share our dreams and deepest desires.

"Tell me, Pelagios," she whispers, her breath warm against my cheek, "what is it you truly yearn for?"

"Before this moment," I reply, my heart quickening in her presence, "I would have spoken of vengeance, of retribution to those who have wronged me. Yet now... Now all I desire is to remain here with you, basking in the love that has arisen between us."

A tender smile graces her lips, and she draws closer until our hearts beat in unison, our breaths mingling within the cool evening air.

“Pelagios,” her eyelashes flutter, and then she turns her head away at the last moment. “I’ve never…” she chokes on her words.

I understand. “I haven’t either,” I admit.

“Truly?” she gasps, eyes widening, turning to face me. “You’re a worldly man. How haven’t you?”

“I never met a woman like you, I suppose,” I tell her, gazing right into her beautiful, gentle being. She blushes and shifts closer, hinting she’s willing to go over the edge together.

My hands shake and skin feels too tight like it’s waiting to be shed. Slowly, with trembling fingers, I reach over and place my thumb and forefinger over her chin, drawing her closer.

Her red, sweet lips part with anticipation, and I lean in, my heartbeat thundering in my ears, as I capture her lips in a tender kiss.

FComets collide behind my closed eyelids, the universe collapsing into this single moment of pure connection. Calliope responds eagerly, her hands finding their way to my hair, pulling me closer as if to prove that I am flesh and blood and not a specter.

“Pelagios,” she whispers, taking my hand and placing it on her waist. Her soft, dainty waist. Without a second thought, I move over her, placing one knee at each side of her. I slide one hand up the ruffles of her dress, slowly reaching up for her stockings.

All the while, my eyes are drawn to her moonlit, heaving breasts spilling out against her corset. The sight of this sheer feminine beauty brings my cock to life.

Gently, I slide my fingers through the waist of her stockings, caressing the bare skin of her waist.

She gasps, and thunder rolls through me as if the entire world, with all its fury and beauty, comes to life within me. I’ve never felt like the ocean before, but today, I do. I go with the tides and peel away her stockings, each second spilling more skin into my grasp.

I feel centuries of longing being released in this moment with Calliope, each touch igniting a flame that consumes us both. With a hunger that surpasses all reason, I try to curb my appetite. I’ve heard what a union is to a woman, and I wish to cause her no harm.

“Part for me, Calliope,” I ask, my voice sounding like another’s. She parts her shaky legs for me. Gently, I part her lips below, and she breathes in sharply as the cool air strokes her there. I slide one finger into her warmth, slowly testing her readiness.

Once her womanhood is drenched like the ocean, and only then do I inch myself into her. My cock takes on a desire of its own as it inches longer, forcing her to widen to my length. She moans and arches her back. I try to be gentle, the slick warmth of her wetting my balls.

“Oh, Pelagios,” she murmurs, throwing back her head. This is the first time I’ve joined in such a union with a woman of this nature, and I’ve never felt such pure pleasure.

Like the waning tide, I explore the contours of Calliope’s form, mapping every rise and fall with the reverence of a cartographer discovering uncharted lands. Her skin, her womanhood, is a canvas waiting for my touch, and I paint upon it with the brush of adoration.

I take her flesh, and she claims mine, our souls entwining beneath the watchful gaze of the stars as all before this moment fades into insignificance, and we both feel like we finally understand what true pleasure is.

As night falls, we seek solace in sleep, side by side. But even in slumber, there is no respite from what I’ve done.

"Who dares to steal from the gods?" a thunderous voice booms through my dreams, shaking the foundations of my subconscious.

"Your hubris is boundless, demigod!" another voice snarls, its fury cutting like a cold blade through my soul.

Jupiter, Neptune, Venus, Apollo, Pluto, Diana - the gods and goddesses all roar at me.

"Return what you have taken and suffer the consequences of your foolishness!" a third voice demands, echoing ominously through the shadowy recesses of my mind.

My heart races, and sweat beads on my brow as I struggle to confront the wrathful gods that surround me. Their divine fury is unrelenting, and their visages shift and swirl like storm clouds, always just beyond my grasp.

"Please," I plead, my voice trembling with fear and desperation. "It was not my intent to offend you. I only sought justice for my mother's untimely passing."

"Your quest for vengeance has led you down a treacherous path," one of the gods intones gravely.

"The arrow you stole holds a power you cannot comprehend, and your actions have unleashed chaos upon both the divine and mortal realms. Now, we are coming to seek our revenge. You will tremble as you remember the day you crossed us…"

I jerk awake, breathless, panicked.

"Calliope," I whisper urgently, shaking her gently. "Awaken, my love, for there is danger upon us."

Her eyes flutter open in confusion. "Pelagios? What troubles you?"

"Forgive me for disturbing your rest, but we have not a moment to lose." My voice trembles as I struggle to articulate the peril that lies ahead.

"There’s something you must know,” I begin and pull out the arrow, telling her who I am and what I did. "The arrow I have stolen and pricked myself on has placed you in grave danger, and you must disappear from this place at once."

"What is this arrow?" Calliope asks, concerned.

"An... an artifact of great power," I stammer, struggling to regain my composure. "Stolen from the heavens themselves."

"From the gods?" she gasps, her eyes widening with shock. "Pelagios, do you realize what you've done? What kind of danger you've put yourself in?"

"I’m aware," I whisper, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. "But the risks were worth the potential reward. With this arrow, I might finally have had the means to exact vengeance upon those who wronged me – those who wronged my mother.”

"Vengeance?" she echoes, her brow furrowing in concern. "Pelagios, that is a path best avoided, for it only leads to destruction – one’s own destruction."

"I’m aware of the wrongs I did," I say hurriedly, the words spilling forth like a torrent. "That's why I'm giving this to you."

"Me?" she exclaims, taking a step back in surprise. "Why would you entrust such power to me?"

“Because I need to get you to safety, and along the way, should you find yourself in danger, you must yield this arrow to win over those at your hunt to fall in love with you. Your enemies can be bent to protect you. Please, Calliope. Tonight, we’re heading towards the docks. You sail east, and when it’s safe, I’ll come find you.”

She listens, an alertness coming over her. I had braced myself for her reproach, her doubt, but all she does is take my hand in her own. “I knew it,” she whispers, eyes wide.

“Knew what, my love?”

“You aren’t a mere mortal,” she smiles, sad and gentle. “There’s this otherworldly glow about you…”

“You knew?” I gasp.

“From the moment I saw you.”

This makes everything simpler. I stand and extend my hand. She takes it without a question.

“To the ship,” she whispers, kissing me a last passionate goodbye before we leave this orchard hand-in-hand.

At the docks, I buy Calliopes safe passage to the East, paying the ship’s captain in gold. With a final nod and a tear-soaked kiss to my cheek, Calliope crosses the gangplank, her figure bathed in a silver glow as she steps aboard.

I watch from the shore as the sailors cast off, the ship cutting through the water with purposeful grace.

As the vessel shrinks in the distance, my heart swells with a potent mixture of hope and worry for Calliope's well-being. Despite the assurances I offered, I cannot quell the unease that gnaws at me.

What if I have sent her into further danger? The thought torments me, even as reason dictates that this was our only viable course of action.

"May the gods watch over you, Calliope," I murmur as the ship is about to disappear on the horizon. Touching my cheek, where she kissed me last, I yearn to remain connected to her. It’s the distance between us that bothers me, I tell myself. Neptune won’t hurt the innocents…

And then, scarce moments before the ship is to vanish from sight, the heavens themselves seem to revolt. Dark clouds gather with unnatural swiftness, blotting out the stars as they converge overhead.

A sudden and violent storm engulfs the vessel, sending waves crashing against its hull with a force that echoes like thunder.

"By the gods," I gasp, watching in horror as the tempestuous sea tosses the ship about like a plaything. "Calliope!" Her name is swallowed by the roar of the wind.

"Neptune! Father, hear me!" I cry, imploring the deity who holds dominion over these treacherous waters. Yet my pleas go unanswered; nay, the storm seems only to intensify, mocking my anguish as it tears the ship asunder.

"Calliope, no!" My heart rends within my chest as the vessel capsizes from the relentless onslaught, dragged beneath the churning waves along with all those aboard. The sea reclaims them, leaving nothing but the carnage of floating wood in their wake.

"Neptune, why have you forsaken me?" I scream into the fury, my words lost upon the gale. “First my mother, now my lover?”

I fall to my knees, helpless to do aught but watch as the chaos and devastation unfold before me. "Why, Father? Why have you allowed this tragedy to befall her?"

There’s no response. He’s telling me this was my failure.

"Forgive me, Calliope," I whisper through my tears, the wind relentlessly lashing at my face as if to punish me further.

2016: Professor Julian Castellano

I plunge into the dark depths of the Tyrrhenian Sea, my lungs burning as I kick deeper. My flashlight only illuminates what lies right ahead. It’s jarringly cold, and the fish look tired and discontent.

This section of the sea is not a popular spot for amateurs like myself. There is not much marine life. The expert divers choose more tropical waters. And yet, I like the quiet and darkness. It makes me feel alive.

Just then, my leg hits something hard. I almost choke and look down, thinking it might be a sunken shipping container.

Never, in a million years, did I expect to find an undiscovered shipwreck. As a historian, I know every shipwreck in the Italian waters. Never has one been declared in this corner of the Tyrrhenian.

I almost forget to breathe as I flap my arms down, inverting my body to take me deeper. Schools of fish scatter as my light pierces the inky blackness. The pressure squeezes my body as I descend further.

I land softly on the sea floor, stirring up sediment that has lain undisturbed for centuries. My heart races with excitement. I glide over rock and coral, sweeping my light across the remains of the once-grand ship.

Wood planks jut at odd angles, encrusted with barnacles. Fragments of ancient pottery are strewn about.

I pick up a ceramic shard and turn it over in my glove. The geometric patterns are unmistakably Minoan—proof that this wreckage dates back between 1600 and 1400 BC. "Incredible," I murmur into my regulator.

After decades of searching, I've finally discovered it - a ship from the height of the Minoan civilization.

My mind floods with questions. Who were the passengers, and what befell their ship that it came to rest here on the seafloor? What was the purpose behind their voyage? I feel excited when I think of the many secrets that may be unlocked with further study.

I'm trembling, but this time, it's not from the cold. I'm on the verge of a discovery that will change how we interpret history.

I continue searching the rubble, my heart pounding with anticipation.

My light catches on something bright, nestled between two coral heads. I swim closer, excitement pulsing through me. It's an object that seems untouched by time, not encrusted or eroded.

As I draw near, I see it - a golden arrow glinting and flawless. It must be real gold for it to hold its shine this long, without a speck of rust. My breath catches. Its polished surface and elegant craftsmanship are mesmerizing.

I reach out a trembling hand to grasp it. The moment I touch it, a shock courses through me as if it carries some ancient energy.

I hold the arrow gently, astonished by its pristine state. It lies, light as a feather, across my palm. How has it remained so perfectly preserved all these centuries? What significance did it hold to end up here amidst the sunken relics of a lost civilization?

I’m ecstatic, but I know I must keep this discovery secret for now. Carefully, I tuck the golden arrow into a pouch for safekeeping. I will examine it more closely once I return to my private study. For now, it will remain my precious secret, a good luck charm from the depths.

I secure the pouch on my belt and continue exploring the ancient shipwreck, my mind abuzz with curiosity about my remarkable find. As I swim through the underwater ruins, I brush against a broken clay jar, dislodging a small stone scroll.

Gently, I turn the stone over, revealing elegant calligraphy in a language I recognize to be Venetic, from the Veneto region in northeastern Italy. I place it back where I found it. Let the professional divers extract these precious things.

I'm struck with a sense of awe for the civilization that created these artifacts so long ago.

In a small hollow beneath a collapsed beam, I uncover several corroded coins, confirming the wreck's age as I had estimated. The coins bear the image of an ancient ruler, his stern likeness worn away by the passage of centuries.

I document the find carefully, though my thoughts continually return to the golden arrow in my pouch.

What an adventure this has been! But the real thrill lies ahead when we can properly examine the artifacts. With one last sweeping gaze at the ruins, I begin my ascent back up toward the shimmering surface, eager to let the world know of my discovery.

But the arrow is an artifact that I have decided is mine and mine alone.