Killing Olympia

I learnt how to fly by throwing myself off high places, starting with the stairs inside my house, to the roof, and finally off corner store rooftops into overfilled dumpsters. If you're wondering if it hurt, I used to tell mom I got shoved against my locker every other day to explain away the bumps and the purple bruises. But all the scraped knees and the tooth that popped out of my mouth was pretty worth it when you considered just how beautiful New Olympus looked from this far off the ground. I stood on the edge of a crane overlooking the ruins of a skyscraper still being taken apart near the waterfront, hair swept over my shoulder by the choppy ocean breeze coming from the bay. I swayed in the breeze, my heartbeat fast and my lungs slow and Gods, I forgot how good this all felt.

A lot of people never find out how it feels to fly, so let me put it in the easiest way possible: it rocked. The entire sky was your walkway, and the clouds I'd threaded through getting here now listlessly floated in wispy bands of white mist. I walked along the crane until I reached the end, my stomach dropping as I looked down at the dozens of workers and the thousands of people having to be diverted. Traffic, a New Olympus staple, made the city echo with beeping cars and half-hearted threats that turned into muttered grumbles. Olympus Square was lit up with billboards, most of them in pieces, another couple dozen still being put back in place. The city was slowly pulling itself back together, but right now, it really wasn't my problem. All I wanted to do was fall, and so that's what I did.

I spread my arms and tilted over the edge of the crane, letting the wind sweep me into its arms as it roared past my ears and turned my hair wild and lashing. The ground rushed toward me. Several people glanced upward and shaded their eyes, pointed and said things I couldn't hear over the blood in my ears. And then I was flying, my gut suddenly plunging as I shot through the city. I was a messy flier, is what Lucas used to tell me. Too much energy being wasted. Too many little tricks. Focus on getting there fast, focus on getting there without distractions. You're a superhero, not a circus act. But coming from a guy who'd never flown anywhere near as fast or as freely as I did, it never got through to me. I slowed just enough to use street lights as pivots, spinning me around corners, flipping through the air and cartwheeling off the side of buildings long enough to hand-over-hand it until I reached their rooftops. I startled a couple sharing a cigarette and apologized to a gaggle of pigeons roosting on power lines.

I sprinted along the ledge, then flipped off the side of the building, throwing myself back into the sky so suddenly it almost felt like I'd thrown my guts onto the ground. I zipped up the side of a skyscraper and came to a stop beside its blinking antennas, grabbing hold of one of them and using it for leverage as I hung off the thing.

"Gods above," I panted, pushing a hand through my hair. My skin was hot, sweat dribbled down my back, and I was smiling long enough to make my cheeks ache. "And I told myself walking around was meant to be fun?"

I let go of the antenna and fell backward through the sky, shutting my eyes and spreading my arms and legs, as if some invisible hand was going to reach down from the heavens and grab me out of the air. I hurtled toward the ground, weightless, buffeted by the wind, and then spun around and flew—flew so fast I nearly threw some guy off his feet as I skimmed over their heads. Newspapers went flying in my wake. A car alarm wailed and a dog barked loud enough to get dozens of more going on. Any look, before you start asking if this was safe, c'mon, I was probably one of the best fliers on the planet. Besides, if they could hand over fighter jets to kids my age in the air force, then why couldn't I fly through the city I protected? It wasn't like I'd ever hit anybody doing this, either.

Speaking of turning civilians into red street art by accident, it was maybe sorta a crime to do what I just did, but as I softly landed on the roof of a yellow school bus full of kids heading back home, I waved at a pair of cops stuck behind us in traffic. They stopped eating their burritos and stared at me from inside their cruiser. I sat down, let my legs dangle over the side of the bus, and leaned back on my hands. One of them frowned and reached for his radio. His partner behind the wheel shook his head and told him something along the lines of: Damn kids. And either way, it would just be a waste of everybody's time, having to stop the school bus and tell me to get off or else they'd…they'd…yeah, I'm pretty sure they were drawing as many blanks as I was when it came to threats.

I blamed the Capes back in the Golden Age for making it illegal to fly through the city, specifically so close to normal, everyday people. One too many superheroes thinking they're good enough to make that turn, but before they knew it, they were bowling through a crowd of people fast enough to turn most of them into police paperwork and a very long night for the men and women who've got to scrape them off the side of buildings.

That's why if you were planning on learning how to fly, hurt yourself before hurting other people. Scrape that knee, chip that tooth, get those stitches, because trust me, no two fliers were the same, some of us were…

Well, a lot of us were like Europa, and made no sound at all, because suddenly she was standing on the school bus as it rolled to another crosswalk stop. People were staring at us from the sidewalk, pointing, whispering, bringing their phones out and turning their cameras on. The kids inside the bus, though, were losing their minds.

"What a small city," Europa muttered. "The traffic is a lot worse than I remember it being."

"Most of the roads are still closed," I said, getting onto my feet. Some chick on the sidewalk yelled my name, then threw a balled up piece of paper at me. I caught it and unravelled it and Jesus Christ! I scrunched it back up and tried to get the image out of my mind, because who the hell carried around pictures of themselves in that kind of position? And in that kind of...outfit, I think? But that was this city for you, chock-full of weirdos, and you only ever found them if you weren't so high up in the sky all the time. "And when you've got geniuses like this bus driver over here trying to save time by cutting right through the city, then you're gonna end up with traffic. It's kind of our thing, being stubborn and noisy, but it's us."

Europa smiled. "You speak of this place so fondly, like you really did inherit it from your father."

I scoffed and waved my hand through the air. "The only thing I inherited from my old man were his powers and a boat load of loose screws. New Olympus is a hot mess, and she's been that way for years, and it sometimes means I can kinda blend into it, y'know?" I shrugged. "I don't get that many chances to fly around this place like when I was in high school, but it's addictive. It's a pain in the ass a lot of the time, and a lot of people have an issue with how I do things, but then they give me these"—I held up the ball of paper—"and act like everything's just fine. I don't know. I can't get a read on these people half of the time. One day they hate me, and the next day?" I gestured to an alleyway not too far away from us, where someone had gone through the hassle of spray painting a golden lightning bolt into the aging, poster-layered brick wall. "Dunno, humans are just pretty weird, I guess."

"I think I disagree," Europa said, and then she was in the sky, meaning I had to follow, leaving the kids calling my name and the half a dozen other people on the sidewalk filming me asking why I hated Adam so much. She waited for me far, far above the city. So far up that it glittered in the sunlight. The wind was slower here, a lot quieter and not as foul to breathe in. She was sun-kissed, almost glowing as she looked at the city, at the expansive bay area and the river flowing through the Upper West. I waited for her to speak, because for just a moment, the stillness whispered serenity, and I wasn't going to interrupt it, not just yet. "Earth is so much more…gorgeous. I've seen planets throughout the stars, and there are very, very few the Empire has left with their cultures, their people, their color behind. The humans might not be advanced, nowhere near, but they're a loving people, they're a caring people. It's innate, it's inside of them. Even the most hateful of them love something, and so dearly they can kill for it." She looked at me, her golden eyes sparkling. "Like you, Rylee. You've killed so many. Hurts countless others." I folded my arms and felt goosebumps forming on my skin. "And why? You know suffering well, so why spread it?"

I tensed my jaw and sighed through my nose. I looked down at the city and chewed my tongue, then gave her an answer. "So this is why you wanted to borrow me for a sec?" I muttered. "So you can give me a lecture?"

She flew a little closer and said, "No, of course not. I'm simply just curious. You might not speak our tongue and very well might hate our culture, but you're just like the Legionnaires." I froze, then slowly turned my head to look at her, and suddenly, the sun wasn't so warm anymore. "They find rationale to the bloodshed. Some of them even go mad and get…what's the word here again?" She snapped her fingers. "Corrected. Educated. They're made into machines, living weapons. The ones who cling to their sanity usually have to tell themselves lies just so they can understand why their skin, at some point, has been tainted red and reeks of blood of entire civilizations."

"What are you?" I asked quietly. "Because you sound like you're talking from experience."

"Well, I am," she said with a shrug and a smile. "My grandfather was your father's commanding officer, and so naturally, that means I was his red right hand. Age barely means anything with our people, not as long as you can kill and not blink when the blood gets onto your face. But an extremely long story short is the fact that you're not quite what this city needs." I wasn't moving, but I felt like I'd just stilled. Europa put her hands up. "I think I've misspoken. What I'm attempting to say is that this version of yourself isn't ready. The only reason Cleopatra called me here was to help steer you away from decisions that'll turn you into the exact thing the Empire wants from us."

"I'm not really liking the sound of this," I said, narrowing my eyes.

"So guarded," she teased, poking me in the ribs. I grabbed her wrist. She grinned, grabbed my hand, and spun me around in a pirrotte that left me dizzy and slightly nauseous. I shook my head, then tried not to freak out when she was suddenly in my face. "You're talented, Rylee. Very. For a girl whose blood splits her in half every waking moment, you've got a gift. You're quick on your feet. You're so young, but you're also exactly the kind of person the Empire would re-educate and utilize." She folded her arms, her scarf billowing in the wind. "I've got a question for you, and if you give me the correct answer, I'll be more than willing to do whatever it is you want."

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I hesitated, then said, "That depends, what's the question?"

Europa pointed downward. "That woman has just killed someone." I frowned, then looked at the ground, having to lower myself through the sky to even match what she could see. But she wasn't wrong. A tubby woman was wailing and grabbing hold of her car, trying to steady herself as she stared at the person she'd just ran over. I winced, because the guy wasn't dead. Not yet. Soon, though, with that much blood coming out of his skull and all those innards spilling out from underneath the car tire. "You've got a way of doing things," Europa said, lowering to hover beside me. My throat dried. "You commit a crime, and you get punished—it's a rather simple system."

"What?" I said, then gestured at it. "How does that even apply? It was an unlucky accident."

She sucked air through her teeth. "A criminal remains a criminal in the eyes of the law, no?"

"What the hell are you even getting at right now?"

"Aren't criminals meant to be punished?" Europa asked me.

I paused, then my lips curled. "You want me to kill her?"

"I mean, if that's what you insist on doing—"

"No!" I said. "She's probably gonna have to deal with the cops about that, and besides, that kind of thing isn't my wheelhouse. I wouldn't even know how to start dealing with that entire mess down there, anyway, Europa."

"Good point," she said nodding, then pointed to her right. "And what about the homeless men following a woman home from work, and I know your ears aren't developed enough, not without the root in your system, to hear the clatter of knives in their clothes. I mean, they deserve to be punished, don't they? They're criminals, too." I was about to ditch her, but then she grabbed my arm, stopping me dead. Even if I wanted to rip my way out of her grip, that just wasn't going to happen. This high up, and spotting individual people was harder, just that little bit more blurry. I couldn't make out how many guys were following the woman, but I knew there were more than enough of them to take what they wanted. Before I could snap at Europa, she said, "You act far too quickly for a being so powerful. Rylee, you can hear heartbeats across the city. Your skin would barely register the buck of a shotgun, and your first thought was to…kill those men, slaughter, tear them apart limb from limb and save her?"

"What's the matter with all you people?" I asked heatedly. "Fine, I won't kill them, I'll just—"

"What kind of superhero do you want to be remembered as?"

I watched the woman turn a corner, getting that little bit quicker. The gaggle of people behind her sped up, getting desperate, because she was getting closer to an apartment building as she fished for keys inside her bag.

"I-I don't know, dude, and this isn't the time! Now let go of me and—"

"The Empire has a policy," Europa said, and now her fingers were rigid, her body like stone as she stared at me with those dull golden eyes. "They urge every single Legionnaire to remember that we are ensuring peace and purity for all. The species that offer the greatest use are engulfed into our folds. Those that are backward, those that are savage, those that kill themselves with explosives so toxic they corrode cities for decades to come, get purified, because to the Empire, there isn't any space in the universe for people who are so willing to hurt each other for no sake at all." She pulled me closer. I swallowed, staring into her eyes, then glancing at the ground. The woman had vanished into the building, and the homeless people had wandered off into alleyways and curbs, disgruntled and picking through trash again. I breathed out, but she didn't let go, she didn't ease up. "Look at this planet, Rylee. Look at what kind of person you are. You slaughter those who don't fit inside the narrow confines of Earth's society and barely blink at those who sit on their leather thrones and command entire countries to fall with a signature on a document. The Empire wouldn't force you to join them. The Empire would urge you along the path you're already on, because after the thugs comes the men and women in prison, because you're just helping save resources, then comes the petty criminals, the burglars, the shoplifters and finally the everyday man who simply stumbles out of line once." The wind was silent. My heartbeat was nearly deafening. "And yet, you won't touch the president."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I spat, trying to pull my arm away. "You're insane."

"I'm here to simply tell you that you're more Arkathian than you are human."

I froze, then stared her dead in the eyes. "Don't you ever say that to me again."

"Why do you let such simple things influence your emotions?" she quietly asked me, her brows furrowing with something that teetered on concern. "Just now, your fist balled as if you'd try to hit me, but you didn't, and why, Rylee? Is it because you're afraid of me? Because the Royal Family wants people just like that. They want machines who think with their emotions, who are reactive. You've been taught to be violent, to be bloodthirsty. You've been whittled down to your most basic instinct once someone pushes against you, because do you believe that you're more Arkathian than you are human, Rylee? Do you believe you'd fit squarely into their golden ranks?"

"Of course not," I said hotly.

"Then why are you still clutching onto all that power?" she whispered.

The air stank of ozone, and my left hand, curled with golden light, shook.

I breathed out through my teeth and uncurled my fingers, letting the violent crackle die.

"Rylee," she said slowly. "There's nothing you've got left to prove to anyone. Zeus is dead. That boy who looked like him was made into an example at your feet. You're powerful, more powerful than anyone else in your generation ever will be, but…" She let go of my arm and slowly shook her. "You're insecure of your place on this planet. You don't know what you stand for, you don't know who you stand for, and the people you measure yourself against have turned out to be nothing except liars, murderers, and cowards. The world failed you a long time ago, but that's no excuse to fail the world. Show restraint, show compassion. Rylee, you'll live to see this city grow and crumble and vanish into the pages of history, and your legacy now, if you died today, would be nothing but blood."

"Yeah, well," I muttered, the sun cold, the wind still, "everyone's got an idea about what I should be or what I should be doing, but nobody's ever there to help me out, so I'm sorry I'm such a screw up. I'll be better."

Europa smiled, just a little. "So guarded," she said. "That's not what I'm saying, Rylee."

"Then what are you saying?" I asked her.

"The Empire hates when their soldiers stare into the face of their own hypocrisy, but if you're able to know exactly what's wrong with your approach, then you also know that this isn't the way things are supposed to be. If you were meant to kill, you wouldn't try to distance yourself from the blood under your fingernails. I've seen war. I've seen the monsters it creates. Some men are forged from the flames of suffering and bask in it. But those are few and far between. You can trick yourself all you want into thinking you're a sword made from unbreakable iron, but at the end of the day, you're a human who'd like nothing less than to save the girl she loves and be the superhero she knows she can be." Europa put her hand on my shoulder, making me look at her. "No man or woman is made to be a weapon, because how ridiculous of a notion is that? If that were the case, mothers would birth ammunition and fathers would raise artillery. We're not killers, the majority of us, and neither are you, because you know it, too, don't you?" She smiled softly. "Some men deserve to die, but most are simply very desperate, and that's our duty."

"Our duty is to save people," I said. "All I'm doing is making sure people continue to stay safe."

"You have the eyes of someone who's nightmares don't let her rest."

"I barely have the time to sleep," I argued. "And nightmares, really?"

"Cleopatra told me, so yes, nightmares, really," Europa said. "You protect yourself so viciously, and it bleeds into your actions, but at some point, Rylee, you have to be willing to take the chance that not everyone on this planet is evil. You've been plagued by so many of them, too many of them, and because of that, you think that you've got to be callous and cynical to possibly protect yourself from people who so frequently break your heart."

"Break my heart?" I snorted. "Most of them were criminals and murderers, what did I expect?"

"That your father would love you, and that maybe it would mean you could be just as powerful as he was so you could be yourself, your true self, and have thick enough skin to not worry about being constantly hurt."

I was silent for a moment, my blood running cold through my veins. I looked away, letting the wind fill the gap between us. I can hear things I should be dealing with right now, not having this conversation. "Dad was a piece of work," I muttered. "But there's nothing I can do or say to him now, so it's whatever. Not an issue anymore."

"Then look me in the eyes and say that," Europa said. "Tell me you have nothing to say to him."

I sighed, then turned my head to look at her. "I can't talk to dead people, so it doesn't matter."

"Oh, don't lie to me," she said. "You'd, like the humans say, tell him to go fuck himself."

I couldn't help but smile a little. "And maybe to curl up and die again."

Europa gasped. "But the Lord of the Skies would get angry so quickly at that."

"Yeah, well, he can bite me. Fuckin' bastard."

Europa laughed, and then said, "And how do you think he would react hearing any of this?"

"Oh, I'd show you how." I pulled my t-shirt up and dragged a finger along a faint scar that went from my belly button to my ribs. Europa's smile faded as I spoke. "He liked going for the ribs. A fist to the face knocks someone out cold, but the ribs? You wind 'em. Can't even tell you how many supervillains I've bucked with—"

"Gods," she whispered, staring at me.

I swallowed, then pulled down my t-shirt. "Forget I said anything."

Europa's jaw tensed, but she forced her lips into a thin smile. "My point stands," she said, spreading her hands. "He reacted thoroughly and quickly, and all because he was as much of a child of the Empire as he was a product of his own choices, and is that the kind of superhero you'd like to be? A coward hiding behind power?"

"You'd be pretty hard pressed finding anyone who'd think Zeus was a coward."

"He ran from me, from Europe, and so you've now found one person."

I blinked. "Dad ran away from you?"

"Your father ran away from many things," she said. "But you've never, and because of that, I think at this point in time, you're more than half the person he was, and if he were alive, he'd wish to be anything like you, too."

I felt my face redden. "Now you're just blowing hot air."

Europa smiled. "What I'm doing is making you see my point," she said. "For all your hardships, you've still chosen to wear a costume and try to be better than those that came before you, instead of becoming exactly what people expect you to be. I don't want to see you become one of them, Rylee. I don't want, when they arrive on Earth, for you to be swayed by their promises. You're the daughter of two worlds, and unfortunately, that comes with its own responsibilities, most importantly, the responsibility to make sure, no matter what, the weak are protected, and those unjustly harmed are dealt with, because justice must always prevail, and you will be justice."

"I'm gonna be 'justice?'" I asked her. "What does that even mean?"

"It means, Rylee," she said. "That as of today, we will change the world."

"We?" I said. "As in, you're staying a little longer to help out in New Olympus?"

"We, as in, the world's largest gathering of superheroes is going to make sure you become what a lot of us know you can be." She put her arm around my shoulders, then said, "How about you meet the rest of the ELS?"

"I just said I'm not planning on going to Europe any time soon, lady, all due respect."

"Good, then that makes it easier," she said. "Because they're already here."