Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Divinely Blooded

Alice looked down at the gun in her hand. Twelve bullets left. 

 

It…hadn’t been real, you know? 

She came out to the wilderness, to get away. From other people. Her work. Herself, too. 

It was easy to not think, out away from it all. Peaceful. There were easy rules to follow. Don’t eat certain berries, hang your provisions at least a hundred feet from the campsite, twelve feet up and six feet from the trunk of a tree. Don’t disturb the wildlife, clean up after yourself, and relax. 

Alice’s hand was shaking. The gun shook with it. 

She didn’t want to be herself, sometimes. A lot of shit had happened during her life, and… camping trips were a balm to that old wound. A way to leave herself back in Anchorage. To just be for a weekend.   

 

It would appear she’d brought herself along after all. 

 

How annoying. 

 

Part of her had still been processing that first day, waking up in a changed landscape, no idea what was going on. The moose had been a horrifying sight. The first sign. 

Zeus should have been a bigger wake-up call, but Alice was frankly trying to ignore him as much as possible. Did he have some nefarious plan for her body? Oh, definitely. Was there anything she could do about it at the moment? Fuck no. She was continuously trying to not let him bother her. Even when he was standing in her field of vision, staring down at the dead bear, and glancing over at her hands every now and then. She hoped getting ignored was annoying Zeus. 

 

All that had just happened, though…it showed Alice the truth of things. Before, it had been an idea, the worst case scenario rattling around in her skull alongside an asshole of a god. 

Now, though, she knew. 

 

Everything was going to try and kill her. 

Everything in Chugach had the potential to kill her. 

Alice couldn’t survive a full wolf pack. She wouldn’t even survive a handful of wolves. 

 

She wants to get back to Anchorage, sure. But some part of her had still treated the whole adventure as, well, just that—an adventure. Something without stakes, distant, where the wildlife was new and strange but could be avoided. Last night, she’d slept in a building without a fucking door. Anything could have wandered in and killed her. 

She’d been treating it a bit like a game, a story. Walk the trail, avoid enemies, finish her quest.  

 

And if she continued thinking of the wilderness like that, she wouldn’t ever make it back to Anchorage. She needed to make it back. Alice wanted to live to see it. 

Survival at all costs. 

Using all the tools she had available. 

Even the…distasteful ones. 

Alice sighed. 

As if listening in on her thoughts, Zeus took that moment to speak up. 

“Interesting weapon you’ve got there,” he commented. “Like thunder in your hands.”

“I can only use it twelve more times,” Alice replied. It wasn’t an olive branch, but demonstrated she was willing to speak to him.

And contrary to her expectations, he wasn’t annoying about it at all. 

“Limited use or no, the capacity to safely kill a being so quickly is remarkable,” he said, staring down at the wolf she’d shot. 

“I’m more worried about what would happen if I ran out of bullets.” 

“Bullets?” 

“They’re what gives a gun its power. Like…little metal arrows propelled by explosives,” Alice explained. 

“Ingenious. I never once thought mankind would advance so far…” Zeus said, trailing off thoughtfully. “Though, there are options other than these ‘bullets’ of yours.” 

“Like what?” 

“You carry an axe at your side. Use that.” 

“This thing?” she asked, gesturing at the hatchet hanging from my belt, its head encased in a leather pouch for safety. Zeus nodded. Alice shook her head. “I don’t think it’d do much against what we just saw,” she remarked. 

“Better than nothing.” 

Well, he had that right. But Alice would rather avoid getting so close to the changed Alaskan wildlife. She’d seen how melee ended for most the wolves. They were dead. Alice would like to avoid that fate. 

Zeus must have seen her dissatisfaction, because he started talking again. “It’s fairly easy to make a spear, if you want more reach. There are plenty of trees around to carve one from. In addition, becoming my vessel has had more effects than simply giving you a god to ignore,” he said. 

“...Like what?” Alice asked, putting aside the spear idea for later. 

Zeus sighed, an oddly human expression that she somehow hadn’t expected from him. “Mankind truly has forgotten a lot…” he said, softly. “It used to be that heroes would clamber over each other in order to serve as a god’s vessel. To function as the link between man and the heavens. They risked much to house a god, yes, but gained much as well. I might have gained a foothold in the mortal realms, but your body has become a temple to house my essence. A generous god would grant a measure of their strength to those hosting them,” he admitted. 

Alice frowned. “I don’t feel any stronger,” she pointed out. In fact, she felt rather disappointingly human. Aches and pains included. 

“Of course you don’t. I haven’t yet given you any divine power to use.” 

“Okay? Would you?” 

Zeus rolled his eyes at Alice. “Yes, yes. You needed only to ask. The survival of my vessel is of paramount concern to me as well. Now, there are a couple of ways for me to grant divine power. The easiest way would be for me to take control of your body while…”

“Not happening,” Alice stated. “What’s the other way?”
Zeus looked irked underneath his beard. “I was getting to that. The next best option would be for you to share in my divine blood. It should make you aware of the senses involved,” he said. 

“What does that involve?” Alice asked. 

“I poke you, you feel something, you remember that feeling and try to recreate it.” 

“That’s it?” 

“Yes, that’s it.” 

How surprisingly straightforward. It could still be a trap of some sort. Alice wasn’t about to go forgetting that Zeus hadn’t cared about her survival when first possessing her. She had absolutely no trust towards the god. 

“There isn’t a way for me to subvert this method,” he idly noted, just as Alice was wondering about the risks. That was the third time in the same conversation that he’d preempted her train of thought.

“Are you reading my mind or something?” Alice asked, a hint of anger leaking into her voice. 

“No, of course not,” Zeus said dismissively. “I can see your soul, I don’t need to read your mind.”  

“...Oh,” she said. 

Zeus huffed. “No need to get all horrified. I don’t have any interest in the soul of a mortal. Do you want to know how to tap into the divine or not?” 

“...Sure,” Alice said, nodding. No real point in backing out.  

Abruptly, Zeus was standing right in front of her, his finger outstretched. It gently poked her forehead. 

 

Pain gently blossomed through Alice’s body. Fiery, increasingly indiscriminate pain, like her muscles were tearing themselves apart over and over. A short scream left her lips before her jaw clenched shut, tears gathering in her burning eyes. 

It hurt.

It hurt so bad. 

But she could feel it. 

Moving beneath the hurt, the catalyst and cure all in one. 

It was…Alice didn’t know how to describe it. Not in concrete, exact words. Like a fluid current, it flowed through her body. Where it went, pain bloomed. Where it left, strength remained. It was the essence of the seasons distilled, the lifecycle of a tree condensed. Growth, stagnation, endurance, death, into more growth. Winter bled alongside summer in Alice’s veins, spring and fall stridently following along. She could feel the metaphorical roots of creation piercing her muscles. 

For a moment, Alice knew the answer to life’s greatest question. 

 

And then it ended. 

Alice was left kneeling in the dirt, panting. Sweat poured off her, and her vision remained hazy. 

“What…the fuck,” she whispered, her throat raw. 

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“Did you get a feel for it?” Someone asked. 

Alice repeated her previous statement. 

A sigh. “I’ll wait, then.” 

 

Slowly, she regained herself. A bone-deep ache swallowed her body, deeply protesting whatever torture it had just been put through. Her vision slowly sharped despite the perpetual ache. Alice could still feel the roots. They hurt, but…strength remained. Despite the ache, she became more and more aware. 

The smell of blood and fire in the air, scorched earth mixing with foul offal. The breeze flirted playfully with her sweat-soaked skin, running hands through her wild hair. Distant bird calls, alarming in their unfamiliar familiarity. The rushing of water from deep underground. 

For a moment, Alice could see the stars, unhindered by the glare of the sun. Galaxies twinkled in the daylight sky. She could count the deep green leaves of an individual tree from hundreds of meters away. The ground beneath her had ceased to be a single, homogeneous thing and had become all its component parts. She could see…everything, and her eyes were watering.   

 

The awareness slowly filtered away, her senses dulling gradually. Alice didn’t know whether to mourn the loss or be thankful that she’d not remain lost in enhanced perception. She could have sat staring at a single grain of sand for hours.

She blinked several times and wiped away the tears. 

“Back with me?” Zeus asked, an impatient edge to his voice. 

“Y-yeah,” Alice responded, her voice coming out as a ragged croak. 

“Good. Did you feel it?” 

Alice nodded. 

“Very good. Now that you’ve become familiar with the sensation, you should be capable of using my divine blood for your own purposes. The simplest application is simply to grow stronger.”

“Why…did it hurt?” 

“Because the divine isn’t meant for mortal bodies. Even that smallest iota of strength would prove deadly to lesser beings,” he blithely stated. 

Alice opened her mouth to speak. Closed it. Opened it again. 

“Do you…mean to say,” she started saying, feeling the anger bubbling up again. “That you just did another thing which could have killed me?” 

“But it didn’t! Truly I have the best taste in vessels,” he said, nodding sagely and stroking his beard. 

Alice took in a deep breath. Survival at all costs, she reminded herself. Let out the breath. 

“How do I use it to get stronger?” she asked. 

“Figure it out for yourself,” Zeus said, looking blatantly uninterested. 

“Not even a hint? And I thought you were attached to the survival of your vessel,” Alice said. “I could get something wrong and explode, you know.” 

“With what little divine blood I granted you? If it hasn’t happened already then it won’t in the future. It would do you no harm to experiment. I won’t hold your hand through the process. Gain strength of your own merits.” 

Alice sighed and nodded. 

Wanting to figure stuff out as quickly as possible, she reached inward for the feeling of roots. She was already sore, but grasping the…root of the sensation quickly renewed the aches and became painful. 

“Is it…supposed to hurt?” Alice asked between gritted teeth. 

“Mortal bodies are fundamentally incompatible with divine blood. The pain is simply your body adapting to the new status quo. You’ll get over it, or ask me for more divine blood. Heracles was in pain ‘till the day he died, but he was more divine than mortal at that point,” Zeus commented. 

Alice clenched her jaw and drew deep on the roots. It led to prickling pain growing throughout her body, precluding the strength which followed shortly. Alice looked around and caught sight of a larger rock, around the same size as a tall water glass. She picked it up and couldn’t feel any difference in weight. Most of her sensory input was taken up by dull pain. Alice tossed the rock like an oblong baseball. It soared out over the lip of the bowl and smacked into the trunk of a great tree. It had flown about double the distance she’d expected. 

She looked down at her hands.

It wouldn’t be enough, she knew. 

What could she have done against the bear with some measure of extra strength? Get squished a couple seconds later? Strength wouldn’t have availed her against the wolves either. They had the speed to tear her to shreds in short order. Strength wasn’t made for survival, and would only lead to her death.  

So, instead of pushing for more strength, Alice reached into the roots with the intention of gaining more speed. Moving faster, reacting to threats more quickly, nimbly processing information. 

The roots coiled painfully through her body, more painful than calling on strength had been. It took several agonizing minutes for the sensation of movement to subside. 

When it was done, and everything had settled back into a tedious throbbing, Alice tried moving, extending her arms out, snapping her head around, those sorts of things. She didn’t feel much faster, if at all—not in the way her strength had clearly increased. 

“You’re supposed to use my divine blood for the effects to show,” Zeus idly commented.

Alice blushed lightly and quickly grabbed hold of the roots again.

This time, her movements felt much crisper, like she’d gained a measure of control she’d never had in her body before. She turned her hand over and each finger did exactly what she wanted almost immediately. Alice wouldn’t have ever called herself imprecise before, but it was tempting after experiencing a new economy of movement. 

She let go of the roots and the precision faded away, though the memory of it remained, along with the tiresome hurt lingering in her muscles.

 

Part of Alice worried that she might go back to somewhat disassociating herself from the issues she was facing, letting her body just move forward while she tried to stop thinking. It was an easy pattern to fall into, like a third person observer simply watching the world pass her by. 

The constant pain would serve well to ground her, at the very least. And she knew it wasn’t a good mindset to be in. Her parent’s divorce had taught Alice a lot about herself, including that slight tendency towards disassociation in the face of overwhelming circumstances, as her therapist back then had described it. 

It was something to watch out for.

In the meantime, there were three things she wanted to do. 

First, drink some water. Her throat had been badly abused in the past half-hour or so and she was thirsty. 

Second, get out of the bowl. There were a bunch of dead animals present, it was going to attract something she couldn’t handle sooner or later. Already, birds were circling overhead; long, dark shadows which seemed content to wait for her to leave first.  

Third, she needed to find somewhere secure to sleep. In a pinch, one of the caves cut into the side of the bowl would work, but Alice got the distinct feeling that maybe the bear had been living in one of them. It would be too easy for another animal to come in while she was sleeping. 

 

Those things in mind, Alice dug through her backpack for the water, frowned while pulling it out, twisted off the cap, and raised it to her lips. 

Nothing. 

It was empty. She’d drunk it all without noticing. 

“Damn it,” Alice said, chiding herself. Most of the water she’d seen so far had been of the glowing blue variety, and there was absolutely no guarantee that it was safe to drink. A part of her wished she’d saved some of the rainwater from the day before; even though she’d been too out of it at the time, recovering from Zeus’s mind-whammy and all. 

…If it came down to the worst, Alice could go three days without water. It wouldn’t be fun, but it was possible. Anchorage was about a full day away while walking, and a few hours by car.

If she could find her truck. None of her landmarks had magically materialized while walking that road, and without good directions she could walk within a dozen meters of it and never realize; what with all the great-trees obscuring the landscape. 

She’d pretty much resigned herself to walking back, by this point. 

Still…

Alice got up with the empty canteen in hand and skirted past the mammoth bear carcass to the pool of glowing water at the center of the bowl. She knew a wolf had fallen into the water, but there wasn’t a single sign of it from the surface. 

As she got closer, Alice figured out why. 

It wasn’t a pool. 

The entire bowl was a gigantic sinkhole, and the water had filled up the underground void which had swallowed up all the dirt and loose soil sitting atop more solid rock. 

She realized this because the water was unnaturally clear, and Alice could see straight down to the bottom of the underground lake, where several great-trees were resting amid boulders and bits of masonry. Biting off a curse, Alice scrambled back from the seemingly innocuous surface of the water. The lip of the bowl had already crumbled out from under her once, and she was leery of the bottom doing the same—especially with the knowledge that it was all resting atop a large cistern of water.

Zeus had no such qualms and simply walked on the surface of the water, looking down. 

“Interesting place,” he commented. “There are bits of a building down there. Might have been another way-station at some point, though it got sucked down with everything else. Good call backing off. This place doesn’t look all that stable,” he said, gesturing at the edges of the pool. “The cave with the stream should be safer, if you wanted to look at the water.”
Alice nodded, and made her way over to the aforementioned area. 

The cave was too small to get inside, and there was water rushing out anyways. But, she was able to fill up her plastic canteen with the glowing stuff, figuring it was better to have it in case of an emergency than not. Call it a last resort, in the event that something had gone wrong and she was about to die of dehydration. 

It might also work as a nice little glow light in the meantime. 

She put it back in her backpack.

Alice looked up and took note of the sun’s position with burning eyes. She saw that the east lay in the same direction as the stream flowing into the bowl from its underground tunnel. It gave her a good mark to follow, at least, even while also confirming one of her fears. The spot she’d fallen into the bowl was to the north, meaning she’d been walking south. 

The road hadn’t been straight after all.   

There wasn’t anything to be done about it though, so Alice started walking back up the eastern slope of the bowl. 

It was a steep climb over jagged rocks and loose soil, and by the time she was done her throat was even drier and there was a small mountain of disturbed dirt trickling down into the bowl itself.

Alice turned and watched as the birds above finally descended upon the carcasses below, now that she’d left. She didn’t stay long, only observing the mutated carrion birds tearing into dead flesh for a few moments before moving on. 

 

She wanted to find a safe spot to sleep, regardless of the nightmares which would obviously follow.  

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