He is a man of legends.
Only those who were there know the truth of what happened; those who were not know only a sliver of the details.
Rumors of him go on for centuries, but they as well only tell a few things.
They say he is unearthly, unforgiving, boundless, though most of all breathtakingly alluring.
Most know him as Orestheus, a son of Lycaon. Others know him by a different name.
He never expected her.
He wasn’t searching for her, and yet when he saw her he knew she was a masterpiece of her own. She was everything he had ever wanted but never knew he did, and that terrified him.
He exited the marble structure, canvassed in blood. Control surged through his veins, taking it from the prior vessel.
They bowed down as he went past, heads to the ground, not looking him in the eye. The corpse in his arms brought him a sense of satisfaction he had longed for since his first breath.
A devious smirk spread across his face as he placed it on the stone altar, he knew they couldn’t ignore him any longer..
Turning, he watched as the people grew terrified of his overwhelming power. It seeped from his pores, clinging to him as though it were a second skin. They all knew what it meant, scrutinizing the man who had not only taken another life, but had gained the attention of the gods.
He was the king now.
“They are the ones to worry about Eden, not the heroes.”