Hare of Misfortune

Rachel’s heartbeat quickened, and she licked her lips, anticipating the taste of their rage after she’d ruined their plans by surpassing their expectations. The glee of a challenging fight tingled from the tips of her ears to the end of her tail, causing the fluffy appendage to flick with excitement as she stepped through Conner’s golden gateway to another world.

She’d already tilted Relica, which was a delicious treat, and she knew that returning from this little competition would trigger the insecure woman something fierce. Relica had to believe she was in control; when she wasn’t, she became flustered and sloppy, which was why Relica would go to any lengths for power.

The legendkin welcoming her into the arena was an entirely different breed, though: the man oozed confidence and showmanship. He had the physique of a Greek god and believed himself invincible. Rachel was more than willing to put that to the test and use that pride against the man.

Leaving the stunned woman behind, Rachel’s foot touched the loose sand of the arena floor after stepping through the gateway. A wave of cheers made her ears fold backward as she spun in a slow circle, taking in the sight.

Oddly, most of the audience was blurred out or composed of entities completely foreign to Rachel’s mind. Many were humanoid, but with unusual characteristics that her brain couldn’t fully process; it triggered her instincts and felt like a massive weight on her chest. Whoever or whatever these creatures were, her instincts screamed that she couldn’t defeat a single one.

A transparent bubble surrounded the arena, separating it from the outside. Dark smoke rose into the sky from beyond sight and was sucked into crimson portals, and star-like stones glistened in the smog before being snuffed out.

Rachel had no clue what to expect from the gem-encrusted, golden coliseum she’d been brought to; grapes, cups, and massive barrels of flowing liquid ran from the top of the structure into canals, but one area drew her attention: the VIP box, from where a familiar autumn-haired goddess with flower-dotted, flowing locks stood witness to the coming fight.

”Eostre?” Rachel whispered.

She expected to see Moongmor beside the woman; instead, a glorious, bronze-skinned god sat there, his dark hair reaching his shoulders. Clothed in a rather revealing robe of maroon linen, he sat on the edge of the box, leaning against a pillar with a cup in his hand and a grin on his handsome face.

The golden portal that brought her here closed as Conner stepped through, his tan chest gleaming in the bright overhead sun, which, interestingly, had no adverse effect on her Lunar Pool. The moment it sealed, the god took a sip of his drink and was suddenly standing before her.

Rachel stepped back as the tall man raised his hands in the air and spun in a festive circle; red liquid spilled from his cup, the wine transforming into grape-bearing vines. Conner walked forward, a grin on his face as he pounded his chest before mirroring the bronze-skinned god.

With a voice like thunder, the deity introduced them to the bizarre field of colors, shapes, sparkles, and humanoid figures.

”My fellow lesser gods, demigods, tulpa, immortals, personifications, incarnations, elementals, angels, archons, devils, demons, and everything in between... I, Dionysus, master of games, welcome you to my passion project! I welcome you to one of, if not the first Legend Quest!”

More vines grew up around him as his seemingly endless cup spilled more wine; the grapes they grew took all shapes and colors. Rachel gave a curious chuckle at his boisterous antics, unsure who Dionysus was, but figuring he had to be some Greek or Roman figure by his appearance.

She kept Eostre in sight; from the woman’s sitting position, she seemed strained and in pain, prompting Rachel to draw her own conclusions as she watched the ’lesser god’ introduce himself and the game he was hosting.

She could now see why Cerridwen had urged her to be quick to recover the fairy in order to take part in this trial. Without Maria, she’d be dead, and recovering Fiona had brought her into direct contact with Eostre. However, she couldn’t have been prepared for the bucket of cold water that was poured on her head by the showy man as he continued.

”Welcome, my unruly fellows, to the Age of the Lesser Deities! No more are we confined by the dictations of those pesky creation deities and higher beings to stifle our fun. Haha! Select your champions, grant them your blessings, and watch the chaos unfold!”

He gestured to Conner as the man did a few flips, showing off to the noisy crowd, who were clicking, roaring, or shrinking in an unrecognizable frenzy of sound and motion.

”Conner, one of my most promising champions, has brought us a victim for your entertainment... Sung-Hyo or Rachel Park, how will you introduce yourself?”

Rachel tilted her head to the side, scanning the throng and the implications this had. Placing a hand on her hip, she smirked at the man who could crush her to atoms with a mere thought and laughed. ”I prefer to let my victory in the ring announce who I am.”

”Ho-ho!” Dionysus shouted. ”Our little hare sees herself as an incarnation of Nike herself! Haha. I love it!”

A wicked twist came to the man’s lips as he directed her to a pillar near the top of the stadium, and Rachel’s eyes widened as space shrunk before her, pulling her vision closer so she could witness a tortured figure, her breathing shallow.

”Unfortunately, my fine hare, Nike isn’t doing so well since the dimensional barriers separated the higher deities from this meshed multiverse. Haha!”

Rachel’s cheer turned reflective upon witnessing the cruel sight; she didn’t know who Nike was, but clearly, there was some kind of history between Dionysus and her. Her white braided hair was used to gag the angelic goddess, a blindfold covered her eyes, and a golden sword fixed her crossed hands to the pillar she was fastened to.

”And who is Nike?” Rachel casually questioned, eliciting incredulous looks from the onlookers and Dionysus alike as she reached to the side to tear off a grape branch and pop one in her mouth. ”Blah. Sour. Uh, I don’t know if I’m feeling it. I mean, the staff stuck through her belly—is that wasted wine just...constantly falling over her necessary. And the vines...really?”

Dionysus rubbed his strong jaw as he squinted up at the naked woman, quivering a little from time to time with the thistles slowly ripping into her skin. ”Interesting. Interesting. A critic, are you... You think I’m trying too hard? Do you really not know my half-sister Athena’s little dove—The Wings of Victory—the Greek Personification of Victory?”

”Ahhh. That makes sense. No, I’m not a big follower of Greek stuff.” Rachel hummed, throwing the crowd off as she tossed her grapes to the side and held a finger to her lips. ”Back to the ’art,’ though. Personally, it’s, eh-mmh-yeah...I think the ripped-off golden wings pinned to her sides with daggers are a bit much. Don’t you think? And it feels like the wreath of laurel leaves—a crown—uh, are you pulling from somewhere else, maybe?” she belittled.

Dionysus appeared beside the young woman, his thoughtful fingers tracing the side of the sword’s blade to the golden liquid mixing with the wine in its trail down her exposed figure; Rachel felt a tad skittish by the stalker-rapey vibes she was getting from him—his ’sister’s dove’—but she couldn’t show weakness.

”I can see why you might think that, but you cannot deny the glorious imagery. Ichor...the ethereal fluid of gods, immortals, and personifications alike; it’s quite useful. Being a Personification of Victory in the 5th Dimension, and without my annoying half-sister’s protection, it was only natural that I take the bird for myself. Who doesn’t want victory close by?”

Conner crossed his arms and glanced around at several more pillars rising from the stands, showing other unimaginably powerful entities that the lesser god had added to his festive collection, with demons and devils roaring with glee from the stands.

”You’ve been busy! I see my support has bagged you quite a few trophies. I look forward to adding a certain hare to my own,” he mused, giving her a dark, appraising stare that Rachel returned.

”Funny you say that,” she said, placing a hand on her hip and feeling the intense bloodlust of the creatures observing the pre-match show. ”I would be quite the catch, but I don’t typically keep trash trophies, so I can’t say you’d look good on my wall.”

”Oooh!” Dionysus raised his hand into the sky, where a gaming display emerged from an explosion of colors. ”The hare has teeth... Good. What will your coach tell you, I wonder?”

Rachel’s ears arched, a tempting smirk finding its mark. ”Careful. Karma always gets her pound of flesh.”

”Hahaha! Circe and Eostre were right; you are quite terrifying...for a mortal. What will you be like when that Seed within you starts to really sprout? Now, let the Opening Segment begin!”

///SMENote///

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