Chương 106: The Minotaur

I looked at the horn in my hand. It wasn't big. It wasn't magical. It didn't give me any stat boosts or special abilities. It was just a dumb story Perry made up because he thought it was funny. I didn't even know where he'd gotten the horn. Had he found it by accident and came up with the story on the spot, or did he come up with the story and then went out and bought it somewhere? I'll never know now. Of course he never admitted it was a cow horn until after he died.

I'd been 99% sure it was, but somehow he managed to make me doubt, just a little.

"He was a terrible liar," I said.

"But he was so charming about it that people rarely tried to correct him. He had this way of making the world feel... simpler. Like if he said it was a minotaur horn, then by the Goddess, it was a minotaur horn, and you'd be silly for thinking otherwise." Vasil was still quiet, looking at me with that same thoughtful expression. Kasia sat next to me, waiting. She didn't look scared of me anymore. She just looked like she was waiting for a story.

"Even Phisto liked him," I said.

"And Phisto doesn't like anyone." I smiled at Kasia.

"Well, except for you and Perry, I guess. And maybe me sometimes." I looked at the horn again. Part of me wanted to tell them the story he'd told everyone. The story of the mighty Perikles, and how he made the minotaur get lost in its own maze. The heroic struggle that ended with him claiming this trophy. It was a good story. It had been his favorite. And he did ask me to keep the story going.

"I should tell you the minotaur story," I said.

"He'd want me to."

"Please do," Kasia said.

"He'd stand right in the middle of the street, blocking the way, just so he could tell some random group of kids the tale of how he came to possess the horn of a terrifying minotaur. It always started the same. He'd tell them he'd found a hidden entrance to a labyrinth, right under the city. Fearless as he was, he went right in, of course." A small laugh escaped my throat. I could see him again, gesturing wildly, kids leaning in close, captivated by the story.

"Sometimes a passing merchant would get annoyed by him blocking the street and Perry would be like, "Sir! Sir! Have you heard the tale of Perikles the Great? Slayer of the Minotaur?" as he pointed at the horn hanging from his neck. Some of them even stayed to listen, most of them just rolled their eyes and moved on."

"Perry didn't care if they rolled their eyes," I said.

"He'd just shout louder. He'd tell them that the minotaur had been planning to eat the city's entire supply of olives, and that by slaying the beast, he'd saved the economy. He had a way of making the most ridiculous nonsense sound like civic duty. Sometimes that would make the merchants laugh and they'd toss him an apple or some figs." I smiled at the thought of him catching those figs with that smug grin of his.

"He never ate them alone, either," I continued.

"He'd split whatever he got with the kids who stayed for the whole story. He used to say that a hero doesn't just slay monsters, he makes sure the people get fed. That they have what they need." Kasia huffed a quiet laugh and smiled warmly.

"Anyway. He'd go into some kind of convoluted explanation about how he tricked the minotaur into thinking the layout of its labyrinth had changed or something. I never really understood that part." This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. I snorted, shaking my head.

"Neither did the minotaur, I guess. And in the end, it was so exhausted from running around it collapsed in front of his feet. He then used his knife to deliver a single stab to its neck, and that was the end of the minotaur. Because it was enormous he only took the tip of its horn, since he obviously wouldn't leave without proof."

"Did that really happen?" Kasia asked. I shrugged.

"Does it matter?" She smiled and slowly shook her head.

"No. No, I don't think it does. Thank you for sharing that with us, Hecate."

"Yeah," I said.

"He was always doing that, you know. Taking something scary or boring and turning it into something nice or fun. I used to tell him he was full of it. I'd point out that the labyrinth entrance was just an old sewer gate, and that minotaurs probably didn't have much interest in the city's olive supply. He'd just laugh and ask me how I'd know. He was the one who'd actually talked to the minotaur after all." That part even made Vasil laugh.

"It sounds like he was a wonderful person. I can see why you two were friends." I nodded.

"He was the best." I'd always been so quick to point out the gaps in his logic—only in private, of course—nitpicking every little inconsistency in his stories. I thought I was being the smart one, but sitting here in the dirt, with Perry gone, the truth felt a lot less useful than one of his lies. Now I understood that he didn't lie, per se, he just wanted to make everyone feel better, and I was an idiot for trying to point out whatever plot hole I perceived.

I should have just enjoyed the stories for what they were. I sat there in the silence for a long moment, the realization settling in. Perry had been kind and generous. He'd been fun. He'd spent his whole life trying to make everyone around him just a little bit happier. I should have appreciated him more. I should have told him more often how much he meant to me, and now he was gone I'd never get to tell him how much I cared. How much he made me laugh.

How much it hurt, knowing I'd never get to hear him tell that stupid minotaur story again. I tried to look at the horn again, but it was too blurry to make out, no matter how hard I squinted. Finally, I just gave up, wrapped my arms around my legs and buried my head between my knees. No one said anything, but I could feel Kasia's hand gently rubbing my back. Everything had happened so fast. How could everything go wrong so fast? We were laughing together, everything was fine, as it always was.

The next it wasn't, and it would never be the same again. The worst part was that maybe Perry was right. Maybe there was nothing I could have done differently. Maybe this was always going to happen. Somehow that made it even worse. Maybe it hadn't even mattered what I'd said to Menandros that day. I felt the horn hanging from my neck, a physical reminder of the void Perry had left behind. But at the same time a celebration of him and who he was.

A part of him that would always be with me, a memory of the joy he'd brought not just to me, but to everyone around him. The highlight of his favorite story. While I'd never get to see him become the hero he always told me he would be, anyone who could make a shitty day feel like an adventure as effortlessly as him had to be a real hero. And he'd always be mine. I stayed like that for a while, my head between my knees, Kasia rubbing my back.

After some time, I rubbed my face on my legs and straightened and turned to Kasia.

"You know," I said.

"I think that did help."

"It was a lovely story," she replied.

"You should do that more often. Talk about Perry. Tell us his stories. I'd like to hear more, when you feel like it, of course." I took a deep breath.

"Yeah. You know what, I think I will. It was nice to share that with you guys. It feels good, knowing that he will be remembered. That his stories live on. I think he'd appreciate that more than me crying about him. Or… Or acting like a fool…"

"You will be alright, Hecate. We will always be there for you, won't we, Vasil?" Vasil didn't answer for a couple of seconds.

"Yes. I—We will." He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, then finally said, "Thank you, Kasia. You have been most insightful." She just gave him that warm smile of hers.

"I think it would help you, too, sharing your memories of Zosia with us, so that we may all remember who she was and how she lived." Vasil went completely still. He looked away from Kasia and appeared to be focusing hard on the trees. His lip trembled.

"Zosia," he whispered.