Summary: God AU. Pertemis. She finds him when they are just godlings, he is in the form of a wolf so that he might not be found by the Olympian council, and injured. What Artemis doesn't know about her new companion is that he is really the god of power and virtue, Perseus, son of Poseidon and Hestia. Together they live through the ages as Olympians, spun in the web of the politics and antics of the Greek Gods.
Note: According to some sources, the boar hunt occurs after the Argonaut voyage. On the other hand, some sources say it came before. In this story, the boar hunt occurs before Jason and the Argonauts, and it is a way for Atalanta to become as famous as she becomes.
Through the Ages, Chapter 15, Life is Precious Because it Ends
Artemis didn't know what happened to her in the beginning. There was a flash of bright green light that had emanated from Percy's eyes, and then she couldn't move her body. Her first vision was of the sky, and she realized with panic that she was exposed on a side of a mountain, completely helpless. But then she felt another presence within her, another pulse, another being, which was panicking too. She saw her body's arms lift, and they were only several inches long. Artemis panicked again, and the other presence merely felt a sense of familiarity.
That is when she heard Percy's deep, soothing voice. "Artemis," Artemis whimpered, not being able to turn her own head to find the source of his voice. "This is your host, Atalanta. Her parents threw her here to die, and she did. By being her host, you have saved her."
Artemis felt her fear morph into pure rage. She hated him. She wanted to curse at him. How dare he?! Didn't they love each other? She would never show him such cruelty!
"You will have most of the control, but her identity is intact. Try moving her hand."
Artemis felt like ignoring him for the sake of spite. But she knew that without his help, she would be stuck on the mountainside forever. So she complied, focusing her willpower into moving her pinky finger. With effort, it twitched.
"Good," Percy said. "Artemis, from here on out, you are Atalanta. And, Atalanta is you."
Despite her hatred towards him, and despite the fact that she had the sharp sting of betrayal within her heart, Artemis wanted to beg him to stay with her. She didn't want to be alone. And it didn't seem like this mortal's soul was intact enough to be much company, either. "Wait, Percy."
"Yes, Artemis?"
"Why?"
There was a short silence before Percy replied with determination, "Because I love you."
She couldn't feel him anymore after that. He had left her.
Artemis was not yet resigned to her fate at that point. She tried in vain to remove herself from her host's body, but there was a powerful barrier keeping her bound to Atalanta's soul. She thought back on Percy's response to her question and her blood boiled. She couldn't believe that he had controlled her to such a degree.
What she cherished most about her relationship with Percy was that it was based on mutual respect and trust. Artemis despised feeling controlled, and Percy never seemed to want to control her. The fear of being controlled was honestly the reason why she was known so infamously for hating men. But Percy was different because he almost always supported her without fail and with kindness. And now, Artemis felt like she had lost something important to her because he no longer supported her decisions like he used to. He was just a man. A god, yes, but a male one.
And sometimes, it felt like all men ever wanted from her was to control her.
She felt the frustration well up in her chest, the anger overtaking her. Artemis felt like screaming at the top of her lungs; here she was, stuck in this body she didn't want, while Percy was on the other side, probably laughing at her struggle.
She briefly wondered if Apollo was okay, once she had calmed down. Maybe Percy had gone easier on him? She had no idea.
Artemis had remained there for days, stuck in a mortal infant's body. It was so silent in the woods, and while Artemis found no issue with the peaceful woods, she was beginning to find the lack of social interaction unbearable.
After a long week of remaining on the side of the cliff alone, she spotted a magnificent brown bear ambling by on the side of the cliff. She used her domain of wild animals to call the bear to her. The bear paused, and turned to her. The bear picked up Artemis's tiny body so gently that it was almost like a human caress. The bear whimpered, and carried her all the way to its cave. It sat down in a peculiar fashion against the cave wall, and almost cuddled Artemis with its gentle paws. If a mortal had seen the exchange between Artemis and the bear, it would have been otherworldly. But as the god of wild animals, for animals to show Artemis affection was very typical.
Artemis, or Atalanta, grew up in the forest, raised by the bear and hunting with her for fish. When Artemis first glanced at her appearance in a forest stream, she couldn't believe it. Atalanta was tremendously beautiful, but very different from Artemis's original form. Artemis had olive skin; Atalanta's skin was unnaturally pale. And Atalanta had striking, golden blonde hair paired with ocean blue eyes. Artemis, with her auburn hair and silver eyes, was not used to the reflection that looked back at her.
It was the morning Atalanta turned twelve, and she was out hunting fish for dinner. It was extremely quiet in the peaceful forest that morning, but Atalanta paid little attention to the abnormal lack of background noise. When she was focused on a hunt, she let nothing distract her.
That was, of course, when she heard someone speak Greek.
It was strange to her almost, unfamiliar. Despite Artemis knowing the language fluently and intimately, her physical body had never heard the language before. It took a moment before she understood what the voice was saying.
"I know I'm not crazy! There's a girl over there!"
And then, she saw a group of men rush to her. They were all in their late twenties and early thirties, with the exception of a boy or two hiding behind the mens' legs.
A man stepped forward. You could tell he was the leader through the way he carried himself. He stood tall and towered over everyone else in the hunting party. "Little girl, tell me your name."
It took Atalanta a while to respond. She hadn't spoken Greek before, so it felt completely new on her tongue. But she had the knowledge to speak it. "My name...is...Atalanta."
"Atalanta, where are your parents?" The leader asked calmly.
"I've never known my parents," Atalanta replied slowly, still trying to get accustomed to speaking Greek. "I've been living here, in the forest, my whole life."
The men talked among themselves for a minute, before the leader smiled at Atalanta kindly. "Please, come with us. We can always use assistance. And really, no one should be out in the forest this long alone."
Atalanta could sense that this man and his company were sincere in their intentions. So, Atalanta agreed and soon she was a part of their hunting party.
The men quickly learned that Atalanta was a prodigy, and immediately she had gained their respect. "She must be blessed by Artemis," the men whispered among themselves.
She discovered that the leader's name was Nikos, and he had a very kind heart.
As time went by, Atalanta's memories of her identity as Artemis were becoming increasingly fuzzy. Her sense of identity as the goddess of the hunt and sister of Apollo was giving way to her identity as a mortal girl. This change in memory applied to Percy as well. Despite twelve years being like a blink of an eye to an immortal god, Atalanta felt like she had been Percy's lover in a whole other lifetime. When she thought of him, she thought of shiny black hair, flashing green eyes, and of howling wolves.
Indeed, in the beginning of this confinement to her mortal form, Atalanta often thought of her happier times with Percy to pass the time. She distinctly remembered his smile, his good nature, and beautiful heart. She adored the way his wild hair would fall onto his brow, and she would always reach up to brush it back for him.
And, rarely, she would recall their more intimate moments. She thought about how surprisingly soft his lips were, and how strangely attractive she found his rough hands. She would picture his beautiful body, which would hold her with such strength, even when she felt weak and small. In those moments, she ached for him.
But with each year, the ache dulled more and more. Atalanta hardly ever referred to herself as Artemis anymore in her own head, and so all the love she had felt as the esteemed goddess of the hunt slowly melted away as her mortal identity took over.
The last time she had thought of herself as Artemis was when she had wistfully dreamed of laying by the beach to watch the sunset with Percy. It was a beautiful evening; the weather cooperated with them well.
Artemis thought to herself, Percy must have asked Zeus to keep the skies clear for us tonight. She was laying on a sheet of sorts, and she felt more comfortable than she had ever felt on the king size bed in her palace on Olympus. There was something about being outdoors that downy pillows and soft blankets couldn't beat. Artemis thrived in it.
"Artemis," Percy finally arrived, a wicker basket in hand. "You look so lovely this evening."
Artemis rolled her eyes. "Enough with the flattery, Kelp Head. It won't work on me."
Percy recoiled. "Kelp Head?"
Artemis let out an uncharacteristic giggle. "That's what some of my hunters have decided to call you. I think it's quite funny."
Percy frowned. "You're hurting my feelings."
Artemis shrugged. "Never knew you were that sensitive."
Percy laughed and kissed her cheek with a tenderness that surprised her. "Only when it comes to you, Arty."
It was Artemis' turn to cringe. "Absolutely not. I do not consent to you giving me that nickname."
Percy squinted at her, his lips quirked upward in a small smirk. "Oh, so you get to call me Kelp Head but I can't call you Arty?"
Artemis wrinkled her nose in disapproval. "Well see, those nicknames are different. Kelp Head is actually creative because you're the heir to the domain of the seas whereas Arty is just-" she stopped abruptly when Percy placed a calloused finger on her lips.
"Now, Arty, ever heard of a rhetorical question?" He was grinning at her now, his winning smile a perfect complement to his twinkling green eyes.
She licked his finger in retaliation and laughed as he mimicked her previous expression of disdain. "Of course I've heard of a rhetorical question, -for-Brains."
Percy frowned at her. "Don't call me that."
Artemis pulled lightly on a stray strand of black hair that had fallen into his eyes. "Or what?" she teased.
Percy gave her a mischievous grin and Artemis knew she was in trouble. In no time at all, he threw her down and tickled her sides. She writhed underneath him, tears coming out of her eyes. Even though she was the goddess of the hunt, she was surprisingly ticklish. "P-Percy! S-S-Stop! Ahaha! I c-can't!"
He finally let go of her sides and gave her an affectionate peck on the lips. He gave her another look that made Artemis feel like her insides had turned to liquid. He had his eyebrows drawn together, and his green eyes searched her own as if he was truly seeing her for the first time. He leaned forward and kissed her again- except this one lasted so much longer. "You know it's moments like these that I-"
Artemis paused, and stayed silent. Percy was a pretty open guy- he shared his emotions readily for the most part. But Artemis could tell that there were some things he kept guarded deep within him. She nodded, letting him know that she was willing to listen.
"I used to think mortals have a pretty good deal." Percy admitted, looking away from her inquisitive gaze. "I mean- yeah, mortal life can be painful, and complicated, and most of all-short, but, it's precious."
Artemis was not sure where he was going with this.
"Mortals don't get do-overs. They have to take the life that's given to them and find the beauty in them. And although Olympus has such opulence and everything's made of gold and silver, I've never once found it beautiful. I realized what makes life so precious is because it ends."
He looked up at her then, his green eyes shining more brightly than she had ever seen them. "And then when I realized that, my days seemed so dull. Like, what's even the point? The sun will rise for me tomorrow anyway."
He took her hand in his, and she almost sighed at the feel of his thumb sweeping across her palm. "But when I'm with you, forever feels like it will end. Forever's not enough when I'm with you, Artemis."
Artemis didn't realize she was crying then. She lifted his chin to meet her eyes again.
"'I love you' would have worked just fine, Percy."
When she had that dream, she wasn't sure if it was a memory that was being recalled during her slumber or if it was just that-a dream. But it felt so real. She could swear that she felt the warmth of his hand in hers. But she had an early morning with the hunters that day, so she quickly stopped thinking about it.
Throughout her years of adventuring with Nikos' band of hunters, Atalanta had travelled through much of the Greek world. She had also excelled in a number of trials-including archery contests and footraces. She had even single handedly slain two centaurs who had gazed upon her while she was bathing. She had never felt so much white hot rage before. Later, she had learned that those centaurs had apparently been terrorizing nearby villages, so she really didn't feel any regret.
When Atalanta had turned eighteen, Nikos received a message that would define her life as a Greek hero. "The King of Calydon has called upon a hunting party to hunt down the great Calydonian boar. It has been destroying many livestock and has even begun harming the villagers. We've been asked to send one representative to the hunting party."
Niko's son, Timoleon stepped forward. "I will hunt the great Calydonian boar."
"No," Nikos replied sharply. "I will not send you. You are not ready."
Another hunter stepped forward. "Then whom should we send, Nikos?"
Nikos' eyes narrowed at Atalanta. "Her."
The hunter's band erupted.
"But she's a woman!"
"She's always been your favorite, Nikos!"
"You won't even send your own son but you'll send her?!"
"As expected, Nikos."
Nikos roared for them to quiet down. "No one can argue that Atalanta is not the best candidate for the job. She has won us every archery competition, and she's the fastest out of all of us. For Zeus' sake, all of you said yourselves that she must be blessed by Artemis herself! Who better to join the Calydonian boar hunt?!"
No one said anything after that, eventually just admitting defeat and giving up.
A week later, Atalanta packed her things for the journey to Calydon. She parted from the hunter's band with a heavy heart, but she was excited to be the first woman to join a major hunt like this.
The journey took her two weeks, but she eventually arrived at the Calydonian palace with the message in her hand. The guards at the gate double checked that she had Nikos' consent and then reluctantly allowed her inside. She was amazed at the beauty of the rich red cloths and grand statues. She was directed by a serving boy into her quarters.
"This-is it?" Atalanta asked, bewildered. The room was awfully tiny-it barely even fit the small bed in the corner. She didn't think the bed would be large enough for her. "Where are the other hunters staying?"
The serving boy blushed. "Oh, uh...they'll be staying in the East Wing on the third floor."
Atalanta was flabbergasted. "But this is...the underground! I demand a room on the same floor as my fellow hunters!"
"Uh, there's not much I myself can do but I can try to get you an audience with the king's advisor."
"No. Take me to the king." Atalanta demanded.
The serving boy fidgeted with his sleeves. "No can do, miss. Even I am not allowed on the same floor as the throne room. Are you sure you don't want to try meeting with his advisor?"
Atalanta's blood boiled. She stomped her way up the stairs, yelling at the top of her lungs that she required an audience with the king. Assigned as her servant for her visit, the boy followed her with embarrassment staining his cheeks red. She was about to be apprehended by the guards when a young blond man interfered. "Now hold on, everyone. Let's calm down. Don't want to start a fight on royal grounds, do we?"
Atalanta glared at the blond man. She was about to place one of the guards in a headlock if he so much as touched her. "Who the Hades are you?"
The young man smirked and gave her a playful bow. "Meleagar, at your service."
He took a few steps towards her, and Atalanta had to fight the urge to step away from him. "What was it you needed to see the king about, fair one?"
Atalanta fought back the urge to vomit at his strange endearment. "I was assigned a room away from my fellow hunters. Not only is it utterly bizarre that I am roomed away from the hunters, but it will also put us at a disadvantage. How are we to discuss strategy if I am housed on an entirely different floor?"
Meleagar's eyes widened. "You're here for the Calydonian Boar?"
Atalanta crossed her arms across her chest defensively. "Of course. And why are you here?"
"I'm here for the boar as well, Miss…" He trailed off, gesturing for her to share her name.
"My name is Artem-Atalanta. My name is Atalanta. And who are you?"
"I am Meleagar. I am the representative my hunting band has chosen for the hunt. I am pleased to be of your acquaintance." He took her hand gently and kissed her knuckles.
A resounding slap rang in the room and everyone present was wide-eyed. What she had done was not socially conventional at all. "Do not touch me again. My hand is not yours to hold."
Meleagar's world was spinning, and the only thing he could currently focus on was the stinging on his cheek. His fingers shook as he delicately brushed his cheekbone, and gasped when he felt how it was already swelling. She could hit hard. Most men would run away at this point. But Meleagar only found himself even further attracted to the beautiful woman before him. "Please, my lady, forgive me my transgression."
Atalanta scoffed at him, her lip curling in disgust. "Just don't do it again. I don't take repeated offenses quite as kindly."
Her slapping him was kind in her opinion?! The serving boy thought to himself. Why was he always assigned to the crazy ones?!
"I understand." Meleagar bowed his head in submission. It was such a strange sight for everyone involved; no one in the room had ever seen a man submit to a woman so readily. But there was something about Atalanta that was awesomely inhuman, not only did she have no rival in beauty, she seemed to have no rival in physical prowess. Everything about her spoke of raw power. "Well, Atalanta. I agree that you should be allowed to stay with the rest of the hunters. I'm sure that there are plenty of rooms available in the East Wing. Just follow me, claim a room, and it's yours. I highly doubt that anyone will say anything."
He gestured to the room full of flabbergasted guards. "Right?"
There was a pause, a silence. One of the men cleared his throat.
When Atalanta gave them a venomous glare and a growl that disturbingly resembled a bear's, the men finally responded in a chorus of resounding agreement. Meleagar grinned widely. "Amazing. Just as I thought. Atalanta, I can show you to the East Wing if you would like?"
Atalanta loathed accepting help, but she decided that it would be best for her to assent this time. "Yes."
Meleagar leads her down a confusing series of hallways and staircases, but eventually they make it to a large corridor. She can hear men laughing boisterously in one of the rooms. Meleagar leads Atalanta in first, where she sees her hunting mates enjoying wine and music provided by one of the servants playing a lyre.
Atalanta stared at the servant, unsure why she knew the lyre sounded familiar. When she hunted with Nikos, the men would sometimes talk about their favorite songs and whatnot, but none of them owned an instrument of their own. So Atalanta knew that she had never had the privilege of experiencing music herself, yet something about this lyre made her ache to a return to home that never existed. Atalanta indulged herself another moment of staring before focusing on other details in the room.
The men were singing some kind of simple tune along with the lyre, and one of the men was shamelessly drunk. They were drinking copious amounts of some kind of alcoholic beverage, and it made Atalanta scrunch her nose up in disgust. She liked her sobriety, thank you very much. Meleagar cleared his throat, and the men stopped abruptly, wide eyed and slack jawed that a woman was in their presence. One of the men spoke up, "Meleagar, take your girlfriend to another room. This isn't a brothel."
Atalanta's blood boiled. How could one human treat another with such undue disrespect? Why was he being so ugly to her when she had hardly even stepped into the room?
"Pollux, that stupid mouth of yours is going to get you killed one day," Meleagar deadpanned, and rolled his eyes at the man. "Men, this is Atalanta. She came to Calydon all the way from-"
Atalanta slapped a palm over Meleagar's mouth, giving him a deadly glare. "I can speak for myself," she forced the words out, and removed her palm. Meleagar turned a peculiar shade of red.
"My name is Atalanta, and I come from the fine lands of Argolis. I am a champion archer, expert hunter, and," she glared at the men in the room. "I am your equal."
The men roared in laughter, rearing their heads back and releasing the fakest laughs Atalanta heard in her life. Atalanta growled and swiftly pulled her dagger from her belt, and slammed it into the wooden table beside her, nearly slicing a man's finger. The awful sound of metal hitting wood reverberated in the room and the men's laughing ceased instantly. "Fools," she said. "You will respect me. I am not going to waste my time trying to 'prove my worth' in order to ease your fragile egos. You think me incompetent. Fine. Yet I am still here, in the same palace as you; I will be sleeping in the same wing as you, and I will hunt the same boar that you will. If you believe me to be so lowly, perhaps you need to reconsider whether you've made the right decision in coming here." She yanked her dagger out of the table and sheathed it back into her belt. "I'm going to bed. If any of you dare to trespass into my quarters at any time tonight, I will not hesitate to slit your throat."
The men watched in amazement as she turned and left.
Meleagar's face only reddened. Atalanta was no ordinary woman. She must have been sent here by the gods, perhaps she was even Artemis herself. All he knew was that she was truly incredible.
The men grumbled among themselves, some considering what she had said.
"Perhaps I did not make the right decision in coming here. I would never hunt beside a woman."
"She asks for respect. Did she not just disrespect us all a moment ago?"
"That woman is clearly not in her right mind."
"I've made up my mind. I'm heading back to Sparta tomorrow."
"Silence!" Meleagar shouted. The men stopped talking amongst themselves and waited for him to speak expectantly. "Men, it is your duty and your destiny to hunt for the townspeople. This boar has been ruining their lives. It's been taking their food, killing indiscriminately. You cannot let your pride get in the way of the path the gods have set out for you. And while you may hate Atalanta for being a woman, remember that Artemis, the great huntress, is a woman as well. This can be in our advantage in gaining her favor, men. Please, see some reason."
The men remained silent, mulling over what Meleagar had said. Deciding that his words were rooted in logic, they decided to stay. "It doesn't mean I'm going to play nice with her," one of the men grumbled to another. The other man grunted in agreement. Meleagar rolled his eyes, but he felt confident that the men would remain for now.
Atalanta hummed at the sight of her new room. It was much improved to the pathetic excuse for a room that she had before. It was bigger, for a start, and the bed looked like it was actually large enough to fit her. She unstrapped her belt and set it down on the small mahogany desk by her bed. She undressed quickly and pulled on her nightdress. She laid in her bed and sighed in exhaustion. She would have a long day tomorrow.
She awoke to a knock at the door. The serving boy from yesterday walked into the room, holding a tray of food. "Hello, Lady Atalanta. I brought you your breakfast."
Atalanta sighed in relief. "Thank you." She took the tray from him. "I never heard your name."
"Atreus," the boy replied.
Atalanta frowned. That certainly didn't sound like a commoner's name. "Atreus, huh? That's a Mycenaean name. What brings you all the way to Calydon."
Atreus shifted his eyes away from her. "Not sure what you're talking about. I was born and raised here."
Atalanta narrowed her eyes at him. She didn't believe him for a second. She should have known that he held himself too proudly to be a servant. "Atreus, you seem quite old to be a serving boy. Shouldn't you at least be a warrior or hunter at this point?"
Atreus shook his head. "I'm fourteen. I'm not that old. And I don't know how it is in Argolis, but if you're made a servant here in Calydon you serve until you die. It's not likely I'll ever get past this station in life. But I can try."
Atalanta felt a stab of empathy in her heart. Was that all there was for these people in life? Forced to serve others all because of their birth? Atalanta couldn't imagine that Atreus' kind of life was fulfilling in any kind of way.
A strange thought occurred to her.
Is servitude really considered a way of living to these mortals?
These...mortals…?
Why was she calling them mortals like she wasn't one herself?
She didn't even have to think about her next words. "When I slay the boar, Atreus, I would like for you to join Nikos' hunters, alongside myself."
Atreus seemed suspicious of her at first. "And why would you want me to do that? How do I know I can trust you?"
"The hunters always need help. And I want you to join because I can tell you're a hard worker. We'll talk more about it when the hunt is over. For now, please take this tray for me."
Atreus bowed his head slightly and took the tray from her hands before leaving the room.
Atreus is a strange boy for sure. He is lying about something, most likely that he was born in Calydon. He doesn't carry himself like a commoner. He carries himself like...royalty. And I know my fair share of royalty.
Atalanta shook her head. What did she know about royalty? She'd never even seen a monarch, let alone know one. She brushed it off, same as she had been brushing off most of those weird thoughts of hers. If she thought about them too long she'd never get anything done.
She found herself out in the courtyard an hour later, after Atreus told her that she would be training with the others until the evening. She was impressed by the sheer beauty of the stone palace behind her, and the gorgeous gardens that were very obviously carefully tended to. She even spotted a small vineyard just west of the palace, where both men and women alike were harvesting the summer grapes. Atreus told her that the palace vineyard had been the only one in Calydon not affected by the boar, thankfully. "The palace grounds are likely being protected by the patron god of kings, the god of power, Perseus. They say as long as the King's reign remains just, the palace will be safe. Atalanta...are you alright?"
Atalanta's face had turned completely white, and she had stopped moving completely. She let out a long breath, and the sense of intense longing for a home she didn't recollect finally subsided. "I'm fine, Atreus. Just distracted."
Atreus nodded and left, presumably to fulfill his other servant duties.
Atalanta spotted Meleagar first, where he was shooting at the archery range. She approached him with confidence. She picked a bow, nocked an arrow, and let it loose, where it made a satisfying thunk sound when it landed in the bullseye. She even started to do little tricks, like throwing a ring into the air and shooting into the center of it. She smiled to herself.
Just as accurate as always.
The men watched in amazement, and soon even a few of them were asking her to give them pointers on how to better shoot with a bow. She was hesitant to help at first, but their enthusiasm had her feeling obligated to help. One of the men towered over her, yet he was the most respectful. "Huntress Atalanta," she raised her brows in shock at the title, "My name is Theseus. Please, teach me all that you know."
By the end of the day, even the most reluctant men were watching as she landed her third arrow in a row at the bullseye. She watched as the point of her arrow sliced down the shaft of her previous arrow in satisfaction. Some of the men were in disbelief that a woman could possess such mastery over what was considered a man's craft.
The hunters were hosted dinner in the main hall, and were served roasted hen, goat cheese, fresh grapes, and bread. Atalanta stared at the spread in front of her in amazement; it had been a long while since she had seen so much food in one place. Atreus appeared behind her and refilled her goblet. "May I get you anything else, Lady Atalanta?"
"No, Atreus, I'm fine. Thank you."
Atreus bowed his head and took his leave.
Meleagar was seated next to her. "Lady Atalanta," he said, gaining her attention. She turned to look at him.
"I realized I don't know much about you. You said you were from Argolis, correct? Were you born there?"
There was something deep within Atalanta that rejected Meleagar's advancements, but she decided to play nice anyway. "No, I was not born in Argolis. I hail from Arcadia, but I do not know who my parents are. I've been a hunter for as long as I can remember. My band leader's name is Nikos, and he is a good, just man. He sent me here as a representative." She stood from her seat, not wanting to entertain this conversation any further. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll need plenty of rest for tomorrow."
Meleagar watched her go with a frown on his face.
The following morning was the day of the Calydonian Boar Hunt. Atreus woke Atalanta a few hours before sunrise, holding her favorite bow and two quivers filled with arrows. He also gave her a light breakfast of bread and a flask full of water. "Good luck," he told her with the first smile he ever gave her. Atalanta felt her heart warm with pure affection. She realized then that she had made her first true friend. "Thank you, Atreus."
The hunters left an hour before dawn, making their way to the woods. They were looking for the clearing the boar was said to frequent. Apparently, it typically slept there until the early morning before it would leave in the morning to forage for food in nearby villages. "Theseus," Atalanta whispered to her favorite of the hunters. "Tracks." She pointed to the hoof marks that were at least four times the size of a normal boar's footprints. "To the north."
Theseus nodded and waved for the rest of the group to follow him. They eventually reached a small glade, where they saw the beast slumbering in the open. Some of the men gasped at its sheer enormity, having never seen a creature of its size. It was nearly the size of a small house, and its hide appeared thick and durable. Meleagar moved forward through the brush, his hand hovering at his side. "Archers, you'll take the first shot. Then, I want my swordsman to take the charge. And Theseus, you pin the boar down when it's weak for the final strike."
The men nodded in agreement, and the archers, including Atalanta, drew their bows.
Atalanta inhaled sharply, and collectively the arrows flew straight at its pelt. The men made sounds of fearful shock as most of the arrows flew off its back, and only Atalanta's had even pierced its hide. The swordsmen charged, roaring in determined anger. The boar had awakened, and it was furious. Its silver eyes scanned the glade, and landed on the men charging toward it. The boar charged straight toward them, and only a few lucky men had been quick enough to dodge its charge. Two men, Hyleus and Ancaeus, Atalanta had recalled, were gruesomely speared on the boar's tusks. The boar shook its head violently, flinging the men's corpses into the brush. Atalanta drew another arrow, trying to keep her aim steady despite the chaos. Shutting out the anguished screams of the men unlucky enough to find themselves victims of the boar's charge, she aimed for the pupil of its silver eye. That silver…
Atalanta let the arrow fly, and the beast squealed as an arrow landed in its eye. Let's see you try to charge at them without being able to see.
One of the men, Amphiaraus, had successfully pierced his sword into the boar's hind leg by sneaking up behind it while it was distracted by two other hunters. The boar screeched a hideous cry, and tried to turn towards its assailant. Howling in frustration, the boar limped towards Amphiaraus.
"Now, Theseus!" Meleagar called, and Theseus grabbed the boar by the tusks, keeping it pinned down. Atalanta drew another arrow, and let it fly, where it lodged itself into the animal's skull. The boar let out a final cry of defiance before lying limp against Theseus' tight hold. The men cheered, but Atalanta clutched at her head as a rush of pain speared through her brain.
"See that, Mistress Artemis? It's my first catch!"
"I have no words for how grateful I am you have taken me in, Artemis."
"Mistress Artemis, the deer are this way-"
"Orion-"
It was too much. Why was Atalanta having such strong visions of Artemis, of all the gods? And who were those women? She had only hunted with Nikos' band, and they were all men.
And why did she keep asking herself where Apollo was?
Hey everyone! I apologize that this chapter is late :( I changed a few details in the Atalanta myth, as you can see. This is personally one of my favorite chapters. I really hope that you all enjoyed reading it! Next chapter will be finishing the Atalanta myth and moving on to Apollo hopefully! Next chapter will be out around early August. Until next time!
-Lucky