The God of Olympus (5 page)

Once
they were both inside, Hercules thought that the mysterious figure would follow.  But he did not.  Instead, the mysterious figure lifted up one of the torches and placed it on a rock.  Then, while standing outside the cave, he rolled a large stone in front of the opening, which sealed the cave shut.

At first Hercules thought it was some kind trap, but then, a few moments later, the mysteri
ous figure leapt down through the small hole in the top of the cave, holding his torch of light.  Hercules and Pegasus both watched as the mysterious figure moved over to the other side of the cave and lit the remaining torches with his torch, thus filling the cave with a peaceful firelight.

This made the entire cave suddenly visible to Hercules’ eyes.  He noticed that
cave itself was relatively small, no larger than twenty feet in diameter.  Several small animal carcasses lingered around the cave, which explained the awful smell.  Hercules figured that this person or creature couldn’t smell at all, or else he wouldn’t bear to enter the cave.  Several weapons lay in the cave—several axes, many bows and arrows, and one great sword, all standing up against the cave wall.  The ceiling of the cave was covered with a black soot, which Hercules figured was from the fire that must be the only source of heat in the cave night.  In the center of the cave, underneath the oculus, were a few logs.  They both watched as the mysterious figure went over and started that fire as well.

Hercules and Pegasus could not see
the figure’s face because of an old green hood he had over his head, and most of his body was concealed by the rest of his dark cloak.  “Who are you?” asked Hercules.  “And why have you brought us here?”

“It is much better in here than out there,” replied the figure.  Hercules suddenly noticed that this figure could
not walk very well.  He watched as he picked up a wooden cane from the side of the cave and walked with a limp like a wounded animal. Hercules noticed that he had legs much like a beast.  This may have been why the creature seemed to swing through the trees like a monkey.  Perhaps his arms were stronger and more steadier than his legs.

“Come, you must eat,” said the man.  He moved over to a carcass on the corner of the cave and, with a knife cut some meat out and placed it near fire to be cooked.  “I hope you like
boar meat.  I killed him just a few minutes before I found you guys.”

Hercules nodded.  “That will be fine.”
  The figure handed a slab of meat to Hercules.  Hercules looked surprised.  “Oh, I am sorry, you do not eat without a plate?  Here…”  He placed it on a thin piece of rock that looked like it had ash all over it.  Hercules shrugged.  He was hungry.  “I am sorry, but your pet, whatever he is, can have the leftovers…”

The figure then motioned for Pegasus to move to the corner of the cave where the rest of the boar carcass was, although Pegasus, like horses and most birds, did not eat meat, especially raw meat.  He looked down at the dead boar, growled for a moment
, and then moved over beside it to find a place to lie down.

“Must not like good meat,” said the figure.  “It is a rarity, you know, to get good meat around here.”  Hercules motioned for Pegasus to not be rude and eat something.  So Pegasus stuck out his mouth and peeled off a little bit of meat and pretended to eat it.  The figure then turned around and looked back at Hercules.  “Good.  I was afraid he was not going to eat anything and starve.”

The figure saw that Hercules was looking up into the sky at the stars.  “That oculus is so that I may see the moon,” said the figure. “It brings me peace to see the moon—to see something that I once saw in other places of the world. It reminds me that I am still on the same world as I was on before even though this island seems like one that is altogether different.”

“Are you frightened?” asked the man.

“No,” replied Hercules.  “But I am uneasy.”

“You are strong, but not strong enough,” said the man.
“You are quick, but not quick enough. Thus you should be frightened.”

Then suddenly the figure removed his hood.
What Hercules and Pegasus both saw in that moment was enough to frighten both of them and perhaps send them darting out of the cave. They saw a hideous face unlike anything they had ever before seen. His face was almost completely covered with fur, although it was clear it was at least the remnants of a human face, with dark black eyes, and a small nose and mouth. It appeared that he had a few small, sharp, horns on the top of his head.

Pegasus leapt up away towards the wall, wanting to fly away like a bird.  Hercules just stared for several moments.

“Are you frightened of me now?”

Herc
ules wanted to say no, but it didn’t come out.  “In a way…”

“Many things hunt at night on this island…large wolves, lions, and other great beasts
that are unlike what you have ever seen, but nothing is so dangerous as to obstruct my view of the night sky. I have lost many things over the years, but I will not allow myself to lose that.”

“What are you going to do with us?” asked Hercules.

“What am I going to do with you? That has yet to be decided. It would do no good to kill you, as I am not as barbaric as those Cyclops and thus will not eat you. I should not also leave you alive to linger here on this island for too long, else you become like me…”  There was suddenly a moment of silence.  “I must admit to you that I am the man you seek, although I have not heard that name in a long time. I am Philoctetes.”

“You are Philoctetes?” said Hercules, sounding surprised.
“You are the great trainer of heroes told of me by Zeus?”

“Yes,
although it doesn’t seem like I would be a trainer of heroes, does it? You see, this land is cursed, much like myself. It makes ordinary things quite unordinary. The Cyclops that you grabbed you, for example, were not always Cyclops—dumb creatures that mean only harm. They were once great giants, noble and extremely intelligent and civilized beings. That is why I do not kill those creatures or any of the creatures on this island.”

“What happened to them?” asked Hercules.

“They landed on this island,” said Philoctetes. “That is what happened to them. You see, Hercules, this island is a cursed island—a land that transforms all who are upon it into some hideous creature. It curses all beings, making them much more fierce, strong, barbarous, and hideous. The curse does have one advantage, however. It amplifies these creatures’ abilities. The Cyclops on this island are all very strong, which is one reason why you were not able to escape the hands of the Cyclops. There are other creatures that are fast, who will quickly outrun you. And there are others who are crafty and terrifying predators.”

“But where did all the creatures come from?”

“Some were already here,” said Philoctetes. “They lived on this island in peace, but after a period of time they transformed into hideous creatures. You see, this land was once a great land, filled with peaceful people and a great civilization. However, eventually the people became corrupted. The people brought great creatures here and enslaved them. But then the great God Zeus punished these people by cursing the island. The creatures then became fierce and overpowered the humans, until there were no humans left. I came here just before the curse was brought upon this island and so I saw the destruction that ensued upon it.”

His face was barely human.
“How do you live like this?” asked Hercules. “Why do you not try to escape? You can build a boat and leave this island.”

“I already have a boat hidden away here
on the borders of this island, but where will I go?” asked Philoctetes. “My curse is even worse than the curse of the island. You see, it is not just this island that curses me. Alas, Hercules, I am the cursed of the cursed. You see, I reached the island and the island sustained me, but before that it was Zeus that cursed me—cursed me to never fully return to my old form until I raise up a true hero. What that means I must admit I do not know entirely.”

“What were you before you arrived on this island?” asked Hercules.

“I was once a human,” exclaimed Philotetes. “I was once a glorious man. Adored by everyone I was, like a great King! I could get any woman I wanted. In fact, I was so great that Zeus appointed me to raise up a hero on the earth, a man who could save all these poor mortals from Hades’ power—for you must know that during that time Zeus was busy fighting in the Great War.”

“But what happened?” asked Hercules.

Philoctetes looked sad. He wobbled over to the corner of his cave and tossed a log onto the fire. “I failed,” said Philoctetes, shaking his head. “I trained so many people to be heroes, but in every instance these great men and women succumbed to evil and fell. They all lost against Hades and were not heroes! In my pride I had failed, for I could not create a hero on my own. My ability to train was no match against Hades’ evil, for every hero had a weakness and Hades would find that weakness and then use it against them. It made me question everything about myself—my own abilities as well as my faith in a true hero. I began to believe that, in fact, a true hero was a mere fantasy and could never occur in the real world. So I eventually gave up and ran away from my responsibility. I retreated here and here remained, away from Zeus’ presence. Zeus one day, however, appeared to me in a dream and said that the day that I trained a true hero would be the day that the curse over me would be lifted and I would be granted my old, noble form.”

Hercules suddenly seemed to get very excited.  He felt it was all so perfect. 
“Well, I am here to make your wish come true!” exclaimed Hercules. “I am here to be a true hero and you must train me!”

“A hero indeed!” laughed Phil
octetes. “I have seen people come to me much more powerful and well, to be frank, heroic than you. What is your proof? Why should I believe that you could ever be a true hero?”

“I am nearly completely mortal,” said Hercules.
“That is the proof!”

“Proof,” replied Phil.
“How does that prove anything?”

“Does not every hero have a scar, a scar that plagues him his entire life?”

“A scar does not mean you’re a hero,” said Phil. “Some scars are not of fortune, but of circumstance.  You see Hercules, training you would mean that eventually I would have to go with you away from this island and back to Greece.  After all, you cannot be a hero here.  But my old life, the life I knew, is gone now.  I have no place with my own people.  You see, all of the people of Greece, they will see me as an outcast.  They will see me and remember me as a failure and will not see me as a great hero or trainer of heroes.”

“Not likely,” replied Hercules.  “They probably won’t be able to recognize you.”

“You may say that this land has become a part of me, and my physical form even shows it,” said Philoctetes.  “I breathe much softer and deeper than in the other places of the world.  No, I am sorry Hercules, my future is here, as long as this land will let me live.  You see I would have died if I had not come here to this island.  Thus this island is a part of me.”

“But Zeus told me that you are a great warrior and trainer of heroes,” replied Hercules.  “You cannot simply refuse.”

Phil looked extremely mournful.  “Hercules, I must tell you why I hesitate to train you.  Yes, you appear to be virtuous, humble, loving, and heroic.  But everyone I train seems cursed, cursed to not live the hero life, or to fail before the hero’s mission is accomplished.  Some fall to pride. Others to lust.  But in every case they fail, not because of lack of skill or potential, but because of a distraught feeling that takes complete control of their life.  Let not this feeling take you over my friend!  It appears that, at least in my mind and through my experience, feelings do an ordinary man or woman great good, but feelings in the hands of a hero do terrible evil!”

“But I am the son of Zeus and Hera!”
exclaimed Hercules. “If you could train me to be a true hero then your curse would be lifted! You would be able to be a man again! Is that not what you desire?  People all across the world would praise your name for raising a great hero.”

Philoctetes paused for several moments.  Hercules did not know how he would respond. 
“You are very persuasive and bold, just like your father,” muttered Philoctetes under his breath. “Very well…I will train you.  For a time you must remain on this island, but then we must leave before the curse comes upon you.  And you must promise me one thing…as much as promises can be afforded value.”

“Yes, anything,” replied Hercules.

“Promise you will not fail…”

Her
cules nodded.  “I will not fail.”

Philoctetes smiled
insidiously.  “So we shall see.”

After Philoctetes had said these words and after they had finished eating Philoctetes
said, “Well you both must be tired after your long journey.  You had better get some sleep.”  Hercules and Pegasus looked around as they heard all the sounds that came from out of their cave.  Some sounded like howls.  Others like sneers.  Others like screeches.  And still others like growls.  Hercules and Pegasus obeyed Philoctetes and found a spot in the corner of the cave to sleep for the night.  “Do not worry,” said Philoctetes.  “Most of the creatures out there are too large to fit through the oculus and too dumb to find the entrance to the cave.  I will stand watch while you sleep.”