People's Champion

People’s Champion

Episode Two

Theta Beginnings Miniseries

By Lizzy Ford

www.LizzyFord.com

Smashwords Edition

Published by Captured Press

www.CapturedPress.com

Theta Beginnings
Miniseries
copyright ©2016 by Lizzy
Ford

www.LizzyFord.com

Cover Design ©2016 by Lizzy Ford

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any
form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information
storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from
the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote
short excerpts in a review.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any
references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or
to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of
reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places and incidents
either are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously and their resemblance, if any, to real-life
counterparts is entirely coincidental.

“…
and this is the part
where he won the gold in swimming and later that afternoon, in
judo!” Alessandra boasted.

I paused to listen, concealed from view by
the night and trees in the forest where I had lived with soon to be
thirteen-year-old Lyssa, the female nymphs who kept her company,
and the priests managing the orphanage where we all lived.

“Wow!” breathed one of the slender, elegant
teens with her. “I heard he competed in seven separate events in
one day and won gold in all of them.”

“He did. He’s called the People’s Champion,
because everyone loves him,” Lyssa said proudly but in a whisper.
“He’s stronger than all the gods combined.”

“That’s not possible!”

“But it’s true!”

I smiled despite my disapproval. Lyssa knew I
didn’t want her talking about my gold-medal past. She was too
young, and sheltered, to understand why, but I couldn’t think of my
past without recalling everything I was ashamed of. Would she look
at me with the same glow of admiration and love, if she knew what I
did to her real parents?

The past was best left in the past.

Even knowing this, I hesitated to interrupt.
No one had ever loved me the way she did, never believed in me.
Since we hid in this forest seven years ago, I’d enjoyed a life I
never thought possible, one of peace, family and happiness.
Alessandra was my adopted daughter, and I her ugly protector.

One day, she’ll learn the
truth.
The soft whisper in my mind
tormented me from time to time.

“But not today,” I replied quietly.

Today, I was her Herakles. The nymphs who had
appeared from the forest to play with her when she was six had
remained with her, sensing what the priests knew. Alessandra was
important and one day, she was going to need all of us to protect
her. They were part of my family, too, sisters to the special
little girl the priests and I had to hide at all costs.

I purposely snapped a twig before moving
forward into the light of the small campfire Lyssa had started. She
quickly closed the browser on her cell phone, and the clips of my
days as a champion disappeared from the screen. I pretended not to
notice, and she hastily tucked the phone away.

Two of the other nymphs had accompanied us
this night to camp in the woods. Usually, five or six of the thirty
girls came. Recently, however, they’d discovered the campground
next to our forest and worse, the boys who often visited it with
their parents. All of my past heroics paled in comparison to the
appeal of teenage boys.

The nymphs giggled, and I sat down across
from them. Lyssa’s bright blue eyes found me. She was smiling.

“What did the priests teach you this week?” I
asked gruffly, already aware of her slow progress in class. The
priests blamed me for her lack of interest in school, and I humored
them the best I could. I was no scholar. I didn’t see the use in
most of what they taught. The potential threats to Alessandra
wouldn’t be defeated by her ability to speak Greek, or how many
deities she could accurately name in under sixty seconds, or how
well she recited the credo of the priests who plotted to rid the
world of gods.

None of that mattered. But I had to pretend
it did, for the sake of what normalcy a secret orphanage run by
rebel priests, and filled with magical creatures, could
provide.

Lyssa sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Nothing.”

I raised an eyebrow.

The nymphs giggled and glanced at one
another.

“Shut. Up!” Lyssa snapped at them, features
flaring red.

“What?” I asked.

“We started health class this semester, and
Lyssa is the only girl in class who hasn’t … you know,” one of the
nymphs said cheerfully.

Alessandra groaned.

My brow furrowed. “Hasn’t what?” I asked.

“You know,” the other nymph said impatiently.
“Started.”

“Shut up, Hectate!” Lyssa snapped.

“Started
what
?” I asked, confused.

“Her ... period.” Hectate whispered the last
word almost too quietly to hear.

Oh, Gods.
Lyssa and the nymphs were starting to transform
from children into young women. I wasn’t ready for that change. Not
yet. Maybe not ever. My first instinct was to back away and
disappear. Discussing a woman’s monthly cycle was as far from my
comfort zone as anything could be.

“Some people are
slow
,” the other nymph,
Leandra, taunted.

“You can never have kids if you don’t have
one,” Hectate said matter-of-factly. “You’re going to be a lonely,
old maid, and no boy will ever kiss you!”

No, I was not at all ready for this stage of
raising a daughter.

Too stunned to speak let alone react, I saw
the look in Lyssa’s eyes before she launched up and tackled the
blonde girl but was too surprised to stop her. Leandra screamed.
Alessandra drove the nymph to the ground and punched her before I
caught her around her waist and hauled her back.

Leandra scrambled to her feet, glaring at the
angry Lyssa. “You hit like a priest!” she shouted at
Alessandra.

“Then come back and let me hit you again!”
Alessandra wriggled in my grip.

“Enough,” I said quietly. “Leandra, sit over
there. Alessandra, there.”

Alessandra pushed my grip off her and obeyed
grudgingly. Leandra went to the other side of the campfire. Prying
Alessandra off a nymph had become second nature. My sweet Lyssa had
a temper and the combat arms training to cause harm, if she wasn’t
careful. The priests believed her aggression to be a stage. For the
sake of others, I hoped so. For her sake, I hope she remembered how
to punch better than she spoke Greek when she was out of this
stage.

An awkward silence fell. Secretly relieved by
the change of subject, I was trying hard to erase the image from my
mind of my little girl kissing anyone ever, let alone growing up
and wanting to leave the forest and me behind. The priests had
tried to talk to me about what to expect, but I ignored them. In
hindsight, I should have listened.

Leandra and Alessandra were glaring at one
another. At times, I was concerned that Lyssa wasn’t quite …
normal. At least, not compared to the nymphs, who were probably not
remotely normal either. But I had no one else to compare her
behavior to, and the differences between her and the nymphs were
clear on most days. They excelled in school, rarely threw temper
tantrums, and were generally less wild than my Alessandra. I didn’t
care if she was wild, but every day, I witnessed her struggle to
fit in with the other girls. She, too, was aware of how different
she was, and this hurt me on a level I wasn’t able to escape or
treat with medicine.

It was this concern that led me back to a
topic I didn’t feel remotely qualified to discuss.

“Is there a reason you haven’t started … uh,
your … female cycle?” I asked, uncertain what else to say. “Are you
eating well? Sleeping enough?”

“Herakles!” Alessandra groaned.

“I don’t want your training to interfere with
your development,” I reasoned.

She covered her face with her hands,
embarrassed.

Leandra giggled and then laughed.

“Don’t you laugh at him!” Alessandra bolted
to her feet.

I tugged her back down. She sat heavily,
fuming.

“That’s not how it works, Herakles,” said
Hectate. “When she’s mature enough, she’ll start.”

“That’s right. You’re just a silly little
girl, and we’re women now,” Leandra added.

“Like I want to bleed to death every month!”
Alessandra retorted. “At least I won’t end up pregnant if I kiss a
boy!”

“Like any boy would kiss you!”

I was starting to sweat just listening to
them. “No kissing, no boys,” I growled, unable to help it. “And no
one is getting pregnant. Understand?”

The words came out much harsher than I
intended. Even Lyssa gazed up at me in surprise.

“Yes, Herakles,” the three girls
chorused.

I preferred breaking up fights to discussions
of boys, kissing, pregnancy … Gods, I wasn’t going to survive Lyssa
going through puberty or the knowledge she would one day want to be
on her own, alone to face the world. I understood too well how dark
and disgusting the world was, how twisted and deceitful people
could be. I wanted to save her from those things.

Aware it wasn’t fair or possible, I likewise
couldn’t help thinking I wanted her to stay a child forever. I
glanced at her. Her cheeks remained red from embarrassment. I
didn’t want to press the issue and decided to talk to the priests
about her development. I was not a traditional father figure, and
her life was not normal. If some part of how I was raising her was
interfering with her growing into a woman, even if I didn’t really
want her to, I needed to know.

Hectate gasped, drawing all of our
attentions. She was gazing up at the night sky.

“Meteor shower!” she exclaimed and
pointed.

I looked up, and my jaw went slack.

The streaks of light crossing the sky weren’t
meteorites or anything else natural. They were too low – barely
higher than the tendrils of fog drifting inland from the Maryland
coast – and consisted of orange fire rather than the cold burn of a
meteorite.

The girls stood, excited, and started to file
through the forest to a clearing nearby, where they could see what
was happening better. My eyes lingered on the sky as I tried to
sort out what exactly I was witnessing.

As I watched, more streaks filled the sky,
until the night was lit up as bright as twilight. I stood, alarmed
by the unnatural display.

The cell phone in my pocket vibrated. I
pulled it free as I followed the path the girls had taken to the
meadow.

We need you to return now
with the girls. Quickly.
The message
originated from Father Cristopolos, who was the head of the
priestly order managing the orphanage.

“Lyssa, Leandra, Hectate!” I bellowed. “We’re
going back to the orphanage.”

“But, Herakles, we have to see the –“
Alessandra objected.

“Now, Lyssa.”

She knew better than to argue when I used
that tone. Assured they would obey, I returned to the camp and put
out the fire then swiftly picked up our camping supplies and loaded
them into my rucksack. I handed Lyssa her pack when she appeared
and then stood aside for her to lead us all back towards the center
of the forest refuge.

They were excited, oohing and aahing at the
night sky, while I grew more perplexed. Such a display wasn’t
manmade, and it was located too close to the little girl we were
hiding from the world to be coincidence. Had the gods or
politicians – both of which were feared by the priests – figured
out where we were? Was this some kind of attack? If so, why were
the fireballs crisscrossing the sky without striking our
refuge?

Three hours later, we reached the manor house
at the center of the forest unscathed. The other nymphs were
gathered in the greens, most lying on their backs, as they watched
the show overhead.

Lyssa went to join them, as did Leandra and
Hectate, while I hurried inside to find Father Cristopolos.

“Herakles!” a voice called behind me. “Come
quickly!”

I spun and struck off, following the smallest
and youngest priest – Father Renoir – as he rushed through the
corridors on the ground level of the manor house. He had hiked up
his brown robes to help him move faster, and I kept pace with him,
sensing his urgency in his pace and quick breathing.