This is the April 2000 Challenge: An AtoZ story, in which you start with "A" and each following paragraph has to start with the next consecutive letter.
As Iolaus gradually woke, the first sight that greeted his azure eyes was that of his sleeping wife cuddled next to him. He watched her for several moments, her chest rhythmically rising and falling with her light breathing, and his heart swelled with love as he drank in her delicate features entranced in slumber. Although he was loath to disturb her and shatter the tranquility of the morning, he could not resist gathering her to him to kiss the delicate curve of her throat. His lips moved up her warm skin to gently nibble at her earlobe as she slowly awakened.
“By the gods, you’re beautiful, Trianda” he whispered to her, his breath catching in his throat as she turned her warm brown eyes to him.
“Careful, Iolaus,” she murmured as he began kissing her with a rising passion. “The children will be awake soon.” As if on cue, a loud wail erupted from the next room, and she gracefully rose from the bed with an apologetic smile to her husband. He listened to her soft whispers as she soothed the baby, and grinned as he also heard a telltale squeak of the floorboards. Closing his eyes, Iolaus rolled over and pretended he was still asleep.
“Daddy!” Iolaus grunted as his son landed on his stomach following a flying leap onto the bed.
“Epeus, my boy, you are getting too strong,” he laughed, jumping out of bed and slinging the squirming four year old over his shoulder. Iolaus deposited the child at the kitchen table and flashed a radiant grin at Trianda, who was beginning to assemble breakfast. He kissed his baby daughter’s golden curls and busied himself with bringing in wood and starting a fire. As he sat down to eat with his family, he gazed contentedly around the table, but couldn’t ignore something nagging way back in his mind.
“Face it, Iolaus,” he thought to himself. “You have the perfect life. What could be wrong?” Yet, something was. He could feel it in his subconscious, itching and nagging at him, but he couldn’t figure it out. Trying to push the thought away, he ate his meal heartily and then went out to begin work in the forge.
Groaning as he saw the piles of metal items waiting for him, Iolaus reluctantly started preparations for his day’s labor. It was the curse of being the best blacksmith in Thebes: a never-ending work load. He glanced longingly out the forge door at the glorious day outside. The sun was shining brightly, gleaming off of the glistening dewdrops nestled in the grass. It was hardly the kind of day to waste cooped up in the forge.
“Hunting?” Trianda questioned when Iolaus informed her of his day’s plans. “You haven’t been hunting in years.” Her words confused him. He could not imagine his life without the frequent hunting trips that always rejuvenated his soul, but then he also could not remember having gone in the recent past. His wife was still looking at him a bit quizzically, but then she smiled at his impulsiveness. “Try to bring back something for dinner, if you can.”
“Is that a challenge?” he asked, an impish grin spreading across his face.
“Just be careful,” she cautioned. Iolaus gathered a rather dusty bow and quiver set from the wall and ruffled his young son’s hair, promising to take him along next time. As he embraced his wife to kiss her goodbye, he stared deeply into her eyes. They were like dark, liquid pools, swirling with energy and life and passion. His heart beat a little faster as he told her how much he loved her, even though the little nagging voice had popped up again, this time a bit more insistently. He brushed it aside as one swats away a pesky insect, and left his home to venture into the cool, quiet depths of the forest.
Keeping an eye out for telltale animal signs, Iolaus left the trail and crept along a small stream that wound through the forest. His hunting skills had not diminished during his “retirement”, but he passed up the many opportunities that had come his way. Being out in the woods had given him an easy peace that he hadn’t remembered feeling in a long time, and he wasn’t in any great hurry to return home. The feeling didn’t make sense to him. He had a wife and two beautiful children that he loved very much at home. Why was he feeling that he was walking towards something and not away as he moved farther from them?
Lost in confusion, Iolaus sat down on a stump and tried to reason everything out. He thought of his lovely Trianda, her dark hair falling over her shoulders as she bounced the baby in her lap. The baby, a mirror of her father’s wild mop of golden curls and bright blue eyes. Epeus, his rambunctious son who had his mother’s dark eyes and his father’s reckless energy. Thoughts of them filled his heart with love.
Memories were a different story. He remembered his wedding to Trianda, the births of his children, and the last few years of his life with great detail, but with no emotion. Thinking back on those events was almost like thinking back on a play he’d seen at the theatre. He remembered the story, but felt like he was looking on his life like an outsider. Like he was watching an actor live his life for him, and now he was stepping in to replace him.
Needing answers, Iolaus rose and began the walk home. He decided to talk with Trianda to try and work out what was happening. The nagging voice that had been plaguing him was now screaming ceaselessly in his mind. Something was definitely wrong, and he was determined to get to the bottom of this. After all, he wouldn’t have lived this long if he hadn’t learned to listen to his instincts.
Oddly, that last thought bothered him. Where had it come from? He had spent a simple life growing up, apprenticing the village blacksmith, and settling down and starting a family. When had he ever needed to rely on instinct to keep himself out of danger? But even instinct was not enough to keep him from blundering into the invisible spider web that stretched across his path. Iolaus recoiled backwards with the web strands and one very large spider clinging to his vest. With a quick flick of the wrist he sent the monster hurling to the ground, giving it a slight grimace of disgust.
“Probably one of Arachne’s offspring, bent on revenge,” he chuckled to himself, then realized what he was saying. Arachne. The huge spider woman, Arachne. She had almost killed him, but... someone had stopped her. Iolaus frowned in concentration, ignoring the pounding beginning in his head, and tried to remember. The memory did not want to come, but the nagging instinct would not let it go. He remembered being on a ship and landing on an island. There was a great storm. Arachne was in the cave they’d sheltered in. And Hercules had saved him. The memories were beginning to assault him now. He was not Iolaus the blacksmith. He was Iolaus the warrior, friend to Hercules and hero to many. And he did not have a family in Thebes.
Quickly, Iolaus ran back to town. Bursting through the door to “his” house, he grabbed Trianda by the shoulders and demanded to know what was going on. She protested that she had no idea what he was talking about.
“Right,” he said sarcastically. She stared at him with those hypnotic eyes, but Iolaus was not taken in this time. “Come on, Trianda,” he said calmly. “I can remember everything now. I know this isn’t my life. So tell me who you really are.”
“Since you’re bound to find out anyway, I might as well tell you,” she said softly. “I’m a Nereid, daughter of Poseidon and servant to the gods. I never wanted to hurt you, but I must do as I’m bid.”
“Trianda, who put you up to this? And why?”
“Understand that telling you this could get me into serious trouble.” She looked up at Iolaus. He was sympathetic to her plight, but was not about to take “no” for an answer. “Hera’s behind the whole thing,” she continued. “The oracle at Delphi told her that she would finally be able to kill the son of Zeus at the harvest festival at Xanthus, but only if you were not with him. So, she enlisted some of the other gods to help her create this scenario for you. They gave you false memories of your life and blocked out your real memories. I was ordered to masquerade as your wife and to ensure that you were kept happy and oblivious of your true life. None of this is real, Iolaus. The house, the forge, the children. None of it. It’s all an illusion.”
“Very elaborate set up,” Iolaus mused out loud. “There must be countless other methods to get me out of the way. Why didn’t she just kill me?”
“Who can understand the mind of Hera?” Trianda asked with a small smile. “I imagine she thought this would be enough of a distraction to keep you occupied forever. And that just maybe, if you did find out the truth, you’d be willing to stay anyway.” Iolaus did have to admit that he felt a little sorrow at learning that those perfect children were not real. His daughter’s blue eyes were already haunting his memory. But, he had a life that he couldn’t forgo, especially not for an illusion at the expense of his best friend.
“Xanthus is a day’s journey, and the festival starts tomorrow,” he recalled. “Trianda, I really do appreciate you telling me the truth. But I have to leave now if I’m going to make it in time to keep the old witch from destroying my partner.” Iolaus inwardly giggled at the thought of him bailing out Hercules for a change. That would be a nice switch.
“You’ll make it,” she said softly, favoring him with a small smile. Iolaus was a little worried as to what her fate would be with Hera. Even though she had conspired to trick him and keep him from helping Hercules, he could see that in her heart there was no true evil or ill will against him. She had to do what Hera had commanded, or suffer the consequences. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him, as if reading his mind. “Being Poseidon's daughter offers me protection against Hera’s wrath. She can’t do anything to really hurt me.” Iolaus grinned at the thought of Hera fuming up on Olympus as he said goodbye to Trianda and took off for Xanthus.
“Zeus’s son is lucky to have such a friend,” the Nereid thought as she watched the brave man loping off down the road. Sighing, she turned to go and face the music for her betrayal to Hera, holding the memories of her brief time with Iolaus close to her heart.
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