Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Punishment, part 2

Water surrounded him. He was in a cage, the animals avoided him. Yet, he slept.

The golden light was foreign to the sea dwelling creatures. More than one mermaid had attempted to get the human within out. To drown him and feast on his flesh. They were long-lived, these half-humans.

They recognized the hated Emperor of the empire, which more than once attempted to subjugate even the seas. Failing only because its greatest weapon, the bestial Nephilim, were slow and prone to drowning in the water. Not even their feet could reach the bottom of the great ocean.

There was a bird's feather clutched in the young and yet ancient man's left hand. His expression of turmoil. No matter how much the merfolk screamed at him, he didn't wake.

A hundred years had passed, and the human remained in their domain. The merfolk decided to get rid of him. To push him far away from the ruins of his once great city, which now was theirs, and let those who he had enslaved once recognizing him and have their vengeance.

Humanity always found a way to get even, and here was someone who they must still remember. Who they must still hate.

The merfolk used the emperor's own golden spear to push the cage made of light in the ocean. Carrying him through warm waters, then leaving him with their cousins, who carried him through colder ones.

There was ice around the cage. Yet, it never lasted for long. Once per day the ice would melt and the joy of the savage merfolk with it. They all hoped they could leave the human into an iceberg, where his magic would be too busy keeping him alive in the cold.

Yet, they didn't stop their journey for they knew he would one day wake and when he did, they wanted him out of their domain.

Cold made way to warmth again and the cage was pushed into a sandy beach. Dissolving immediately now that it wasn't needed. The merfolk scattered away. Throwing the golden spear at the sleeping figure and cursing him as they swam.

The sun gave Nikola warmth that he hadn't felt since Atlantis had fallen. He wanted to remain here forever. But he opened his eyes and looked with both of them, and then he regretted it immediately. The eye he had gauged out had regenerated. He had deserved for it not to as punishment.

"Penemue, my love, do you hear me?" He prayed just like he used to when the angel had first come into his life. "I'm lost, and you are the only thing I have left of my old world. I know you are not dead. Please, answer me."

A gentle breeze played with Nikola's now waist length hair; he sighed.

"I'm sorry about Pallas. He was as much my son as yours and Vasiliki's," nothing again, and Nikola looked down at the feather he was still clutching. He suddenly felt hatred rise within him.

This was as much Penemue's doing as well as his own. He let go of the feather and watched it drift down to the ground. He raised his foot to step on it when it finally touched the sand, but then a stray tear fell down his cheek.

Everyone was dead.

His island was sunken and destroyed. He was sure of it. The tears kept falling as he knelt down on the ground and cupped the feather in his hands, cleaning it from the sand grains that clutched to it.

He had overreached.

Had been fearful to give the throne to Pallas. Or even a little land for the giant to call his own. And now Pallas…no. He, Nikola, had destroyed everything. He kissed the feather as if it truly belonged to his lover and placed it in the folds of his toga. Right over his heart.

"Until we meet again, my love," he whispered brokenly to the wind as he began to go in the direction of the mountains surrounding the beach.

He could be anywhere, he reasoned with himself. But these mountains, which were standing high as if they were columns in truth, and which looked eaten by wild beasts, belonged to only one place.

He was in Asia and if he didn't have luck, he was in China now. The very same empire, which had fought against him for three centuries, before falling to the Nephilim.

He had thought it amusing back then to let them keep their giant wall that had been even taller than the tallest giant. Now he only hoped they had burned all his portraits in joy and could no longer recall who he was.

Walking through the forest was terrifying. He knew how to fight, true, but his only weapon was his golden spear. It was ceremonial, mainly, and he had taken it only so he could trade it for food and clothes.

A wolf's howl sounded in the distance, and Nikola gripped his spear. He would rather not see if he could even regenerate as only bones, so he went into the opposite direction of the sound.

Something delicious announced to him that he was nearing a settlement. Even if it was only a hut in the woods, he promised to himself that he would be grateful.

Following the scent, he stumbled upon a village. With its pointy roofs and dirt streets, it announced to him loud and clear that he was indeed in China. He knew the local language.

He had made it a point to learn all the languages of the nations he subjugated. And yet, he drew the eyes to himself. In his crisp white toga with golden and silver trims and the golden spear by his side, he made quite the picture.

He wore wool, while they wore hemp and cotton. He had sandals on his feet, his toes showing. They had boots on. He stopped by a street vendor and opened his mouth to say something when the woman put a steamed bun under his nose.

"You must be hungry, young man! We don't have many travelers passing by. Was there another shipwreck? We didn't hear anything of it here, and we are very close to the coast."

Nikola took the bun and quickly ate it before the woman could change her mind. He suddenly realized how hungry he was.

"Good woman, do you have a pawn shop here? I'd like to trade this."

He showed her the spear. The woman shrank back. Realizing his mistake, he placed the spear back on his back.

"We are a small village, young man. I don't think even old handler Hua would have enough money to buy this off you. Say, where do you even have it from?"

"I fished it from the sea one day," Nikola lied smoothly. There were engravings on the spear that pointed at its Atlantean origins. It was for the best if he didn't say it was an heirloom or anything along these lines.

"I've been travelling all this way from Troy. Have you heard of Troy, ma'am?" Troy was one of his favorite places. He had gained a foothold on it when he had married one of his grandsons to the local ruler. A bloodless conquest always brought good feelings in him.

"Can't say that I have, no," the woman eyed Nikola's toga once again and his mane of a hair and gave him another bun. "But you come back after you sell that thing off. You owe me a copper for the second bun. The first one is on the house. I am Nuo Nuying. And you are?"

Nikola entertained the thought of lying to the old lady, but then he risked forgetting his new name. And his name sounded Trojan enough, if anyone here even knew of Troy.

"Nikola of Troy. And I will repay your kindness, Nuo Nuying," the old lady pointed to her right.

"Old handler Hua is down this road. Look for the yellow lanterns over the red door. Now off with you, I have other customers."

Nikola waved goodbye and moved towards the direction of the shop. He soon found it. It was one of the more well-off buildings in the area, which spoke well for his prospects to get as much gold as he could for his spear.