Summary: Attica still stands, and below its streets lurks a bloodthirsty creature that feasts on the blood of daughters of the nobility. Twenty-year-old Sinbad is tasked with slaying it. If he finishes his job and leaves without scandal, he'll have secured the new Sindria's prosperity. All he has to do is keep his hands off the king's daughter.
Note 1: I have censored this version to make it more accessible to a wider age range and fit with the amino guidelines.
Note 2: This is an AU of Courage, but I have tried to make it so that if you haven't read Courage, you won't be lost. Please let me know if something is confusing!
Note 3: the link to the art used in the cover photo can be found here.
Attica had many stories. Its people lived and breathed them, worshiping the heroes and gods within them alike. Epic romances, adventures, and mysteries had been ed down through generations until the lines between myth and reality were lost.
Sinbad was himself a legend, and in Attica he was counted among the ranks of immortals. Men gawked as he strode past, and women swooned. He had a cult here, a group of worshipers that regarded him as a deity in the flesh. They gave offerings at a small temple, which he had demanded be distributed among the needy. He was a patron of slaves and merchants, and now the poor as well.
Perhaps it was his renown among the people that had caught the king’s attention. Hypatos Alexandris, ruler of a crumbled empire, had extended an invitation to Sinbad, welcoming him to a banquet of heroes. Ever mindful of opportunities to advance his own interests, Sinbad had accepted.
“You may be wondering,” the stern man said, his back rigid against his golden throne, “why I have called you here.”
“It has crossed my mind.” The man reclining on the couch next to Sinbad’s raised himself on one elbow. He was built like a statue of bronze, every rippling muscle accentuated by his oiled skin. Adonis, he was called.
“The princess is of age, I hear.” The man on Sinbad’s other side folded his hands together thoughtfully. He was leaner, built like a runner. “If I’m correct, you’ve sought us out to be her suitors.” This one was Theseus, according to the guard who had announced his arrival.
“Doubtless you’ve heard rumors of my daughter’s beauty.” Hypatos’s face seemed to be stuck in a permanent scowl.
When he spent time in Attica, Sinbad heard many whispers about the princess, all of them contradictory. Some said she was the picture of chastity, others that she had slept with every guard in the palace, and still others said she preyed on vulnerable young women, seducing them like some kind of succubus. She was a mysterious figure, only making public appearances during festivals. The rest of the time, her father kept her locked away, hidden from the world that sought to corrupt her— or perhaps to keep her from ensnaring the hearts of men. It was said she had been blessed by the goddess of beauty with the ability to bewitch any man. Naturally, Sinbad was curious about the face that had inspired such dramatic gossip.
“They’re exaggerated.” Hypatos’ frown seemed to deepen, assuming that were even possible. “But, no, That is not the reason you’re here.”
Adonis deflated just a little. Given that whoever married the princess would inherit the title of king, he supposed the reaction made sense. Sinbad, too, wanted the power the title conferred. Since he was fourteen, he had traveled the world, conquering dungeons, amassing money and power. At eighteen, he founded his first country and lost it due to his allies’ betrayals. He had absorbed the angry spirits of the people lost that day, and the chaos they had wrought inside his body had nearly torn him in two. For a year, he’d studied magoi manipulation with the Yambala tribe, learning to control the dark energy inside him. Then, over the last three months, he’d collected two more metal vessels— Furfur and Focalor— on top of the three he already possessed.
Each of the djinn contained in the metal vessels had judged him worthy of kingship. If this were a matter of who was to inherit the throne, Sinbad was fairly confident the others would not be here. No one was more suited to that position than him. A voice inside his head affirmed his conviction.
“You are special, beloved by destiny. They’re not even worthy to kiss your feet.”
The voice in his head— David, it called itself— had appeared at the same time he’d absorbed all those vengeful spirits. At first, Sinbad had thought he was losing his mind. He still wasn’t convinced that wasn’t the case.
“Show them how special you are.”
Sinbad sat up straight, taking a sip of his pathetically watered-down wine before speaking. “This is about the disappearances, isn’t it? Every year, on the eleventh day of the tenth month, an aristocratic young girl goes missing. The nobility has been clamoring for a solution, and you can’t ignore them anymore. They’re threatening your daughter, the last member of your bloodline.”
Sinbad was grateful to his right-hand man, Ja’far, for forcing him to study Attican affairs before every visit. After all, it wasn’t the princess’s hand in marriage that he wanted from the king. He was perfectly capable of building a country on his own, and relying on others never served his interests. Powerful people played dangerous games, and Sinbad had learned the rules the hard way.
“You’re correct on all s but one.” The king glanced toward the guards, then back at the men. “What is said here is not to leave this room, do you understand?”
Sinbad sat back smugly, having outshone the other guests thoroughly.
“Underneath this island, there is a network of tunnels that dates back to ancient times. About ten years ago, we discovered a vein of Nemian gold, a material that has not been seen since the great goddess Asena walked the earth.”
Nemian gold… That was what Sinbad wanted, exclusive trading rights to this most precious of metals. It was said to be impervious to all weapons and even most magic. Attica had been refusing to sell it at any cost, but Sinbad hadn’t gotten where he was now by giving up at the first hardship.
“More recently, we uncovered something else down there— a labyrinth, of sorts. Within it dwells an abomination— half man, half beast. It’s a blood-thirsty creature bent on devouring anyone that crosses its path. We cannot send men down there to repair the wall. Even our fiercest warriors in our strongest armor have been killed. I consulted with the priestess of Asena, who said that by feeding him the blood of a noble maiden, his restlessness will be sated. He’ll still murder anyone who crosses his path, but he won’t try to leave the underground tunnels. The girls are not missing. They are sacrificed.”
“You want us to slay the beast?” Adonis laughed. “And what do we get in return? Gold? I already have it. No, Your Majesty, there is one thing I’ll risk my life for.” He sat up straight, a smirk creeping across his lips. “Your daughter’s hand.”
Theseus nodded in agreement. “Your Majesty, we already have wealth and glory.”
“But not honor.” Hypatos stood up, gazing down at the three men disdainfully. “You would think you were worthy to be my heir?” He turned his fiery eyes to Sinbad. “And you, do you covet my daughter’s hand as well?”
Sinbad stood, placing his hand on his heart to convey the earnesty with which he spoke. “Your Majesty, I have the power to rid you of this problem once and for all. My only request is that in return, you grant sole trading rights of Nemian gold to Sindria.”
The king’s expression lost some of its severity. “I see I was right to listen to my daughter when she spoke highly of you. Very well. The three of you will be my champions. Whoever slays the beast and brings me it's head first will win the prize he has chosen.”
Read chapter 2 here.
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