The towering shape of Mnemosyne shimmered as he approached the beach, wading through the depths with the aid of a great, razor-edged spear. A sharp breeze swept in off the water, the sea-smells intermixed with the scent of half-remembered summer nights and mountains Zoe had never seen. The Incarna's Apollonian proportions shrank until it was just a man walking through the shallows, his dark hair and beard dampened by the salt surf. His soaked clothes were that of a sailor, and Zoe could make out a few faded tattoos emerging from his shirt sleeves to end just above his wrists. His spear similarly diminished, shrinking down so that it could be comfortably held.
"There is no need to be formal, little one." Tycheros said.
"I am here because of you."
The pair of them walked down the beach as Luna slipped ever lower toward the horizon.
"You nearly died this night. It was not only O'Toole's gadgets that alerted him to your plight- I walked in his dreams and led him to you.
"I am also here because you gave up the memories of your time with O'Toole in order to destroy the Wyrm's bastard, Chrysaor. Without that deed, I would likely have been banished or even destroyed."
Tycheros held out the spear, offering Zoe to inspect it. As her hands ran over the polished cool surface, she detected a hairline crack, half-hearing the echoing death cry of the greed spirit.
"You sacrificed a great deal... and though I care little for meddlesome 'enlightened' humans and the damage they wreak, O'Toole did what I could not. He raised you."
Tycheros' jaw was set, but his eyes were wet with tears of frustration.
"After all, he was able to see you grow up from a wild young hellion into a smart and capable woman... he was more of a father to you than I ever was." Even as Tycheros spoke the words, father and daughter came to a halt, the relentless tide scouring the sand behind them, washing away their footprints.
Home 
