11 years later;
The sun had not yet risen, casting a soft, muted glow over the hills that lay just outside Athens.
At the foot of one of the hills, a chariot pulled to a halt, the horses snorting as they came to a stop.
King Pyranthos stepped down with the assistance of his soldiers, who formed a quiet, protective circle around him. Pyranthos' gaze shifted to what lay ahead.
At the top of the hill, a strange, shimmering blue barrier stood like a wall of light, its surface flickering with energy. The color might be different, but usually, it only indicates one thing. Inside that barrier, there was either a demigod or a minor god living in seclusion, and only those with permission had the right to step inside.
"You all stay here." King Pyranthos, the 62-year-old man, who looked quite frail and weak, ordered his elite regiment and began to climb the hill alone.
His steps were slow, measured, but his pace was steady. He reached the top by the time the sun was just peeking out of the clouds.
He stood still outside the barrier for a minute, hesitation is evident on his face. But eventually, he made up his mind, stretching his hand forward to touch it, but then a rustling sound made him turn around.
Out of the shadows, a figure emerged—a strange, wild figure.
He had the body of a man, but his legs were those of a goat, covered in thick fur.
His horns curved up from his head, and his wild eyes gleamed with ancient mischief.
It was Pan, the god of nature, the shepherds, and rustic music.
Pyranthos paused, taken aback by the unexpected appearance of Pan, the master of this place.
"King Pyranthos," Pan said, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "Why have you come here?"
The king swallowed hard, his voice rough with the weight of his age and tiredness. "I apologize, Lord Pan, but I couldn't help myself," he confessed, glancing at the barrier. "As I grow older, my worries grow with me. I... I want to pick them in person."
Pan studied him for a moment, his gaze both wise and knowing. "You have too much attachment to your children, King Pyranthos. Learn to love them."
King Pyranthos blinked in surprise. "But I love my children, Lord Pan. Being attached to one's children is what makes a human."
Pan shook his head with a chuckle. "You don't understand it, King Pyranthos. Attachment leads to dependency and possessiveness, Love is selfless and liberating. Attachment seeks security. Love seeks connection. Attachment is often self-focused, and it will make you think that I want to mould my children's future, but Love makes you think that I gave them everything they need, and the rest is left to their hard work and destiny."
As Pyranthos stayed silent, with his head hung down in shame, Pan let out a grunting sound and gestured for Pyranthos to follow. They moved through the trees, coming upon a clearing where two young figures were locked in a sparring match.
The first was a handsome young man, dark-haired and with a fierce look in his eyes. He moved with agility, quick on his feet, yet his blows seemed controlled, precise.
His opponent, a young woman, was a striking beauty with golden blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She was fluid in her movements, graceful but fierce, her every action filled with the calm assurance of someone who had practiced this for years.
Their fight was an even one, their movements a perfect dance of power and skill.
But in the end, it was the girl who stood victorious, her foot planted firmly on the ground as the boy stumbled back, panting slightly. She extended her hand to him, a soft smile on her lips.
"Good fight, brother," she said.
The boy laughed, a grin spreading across his face. "I can never beat you, can I, Selene?" He took her hand and allowed her to help him to his feet.
Selene laughed, shaking her head. "You're too soft with your punches and kicks. If you weren't, I might have been defeated."
Zephyr playfully scoffed, shaking his head. "Stop kidding, Selene. Hand-to-hand fighting is not your forte. You're an archer, for Zeus' sake."
Before Selene could respond, her gaze caught something in the distance. Her eyes widened, and she froze, looking at the figure standing at the edge of the clearing. "Father?"
Zephyr's attention immediately shifted, and his face lit up with excitement. "Father!" he cried, springing up onto his feet and rushing forward with an eagerness that made Selene smile.
However, she quickly shot her hand forth and grabbed his hand. It took him by surprise. "Sister?"
"Not yet," she said, shaking her head. "We are in Lord Pan's abode. Wait for permission."
Zephyr frowned but respected her wish and stopped moving.
Pan smiled from the side, his eyes twinkling as he nodded toward them. "It is time." He said to both of them.
With a nod from their master, Selene stepped back and freed her grip, allowing Zephyr to rush toward Pyranthos. The young man threw his arms around his father, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Father!" he said again, his voice full of warmth and affection.
Pyranthos chuckled softly, placing a hand on his son's back. "Zephyr," he said, his voice filled with love and pride.
Selene followed behind, and Pyranthos turned to face her. His eyes softened as he addressed her. "My lovely Moonlight," he said, his voice gentle but firm.
After a while;
Zephyr and Selene climbed into the chariot, sitting beside their father. Pan gave them one last smile and waved. "Goodbye, King Pyranthos, and may your children's paths be filled with success."
The chariot began its descent, leaving the hill behind. The barrier shimmered in the distance as the dawn broke fully over the land of Athens.
*
The wheels of the chariot creaked softly as it rolled down the forest path. Birds chirped in scattered bursts, but the trio remained mostly silent, enjoying the long-awaited closeness. Zephyr leaned back, arms behind his head, while Selene sat upright, ever observant.
As the road curved, a low hill came into view—unlike the others, it was cloaked in a strange, dark mist. Shadows twisted unnaturally along its slope, and a faint shimmer marked a hidden boundary, smelling quite suspicious.
Selene pointed. "Father, what's that place?"
King Pyranthos slowed the reins and followed her gaze. His expression shifted to seriousness. "That," he said, voice quieter now, "is where the Gorgon was imprisoned."
Zephyr sat up straight. "Gorgon? Which one?"
Pyranthos replied. "Medusa."
Selene tilted her head. "But, Father, isn't Medusa dead?"
"Who is Medusa?" Zephyr questioned aloud.