Hi, everybody! I missed you guys so much! I really, really miss writing, but it seems like school takes up any spare time I may have. Believe me though, I'd much rather be interacting with you guys and writing up new updates. 

I only have one translation for this chapter, but it's meaningful. I think. I double checked a couple websites for the greek translation, so I tried my best to make it accurate, but you just never know with google. Also, these are modern greek translations since I couldn't find any sources for ancient greek. 

Translations:

Alástor, peismatáriko álogo! Sas édosa ídi neró, o kósmos boreí na archísei na pistévei óti sas kakometacheirízomai an synechísete étsi! : Alastor, you stubborn, stubborn horse! I already gave you water, people may begin to think I mistreat you if you continue on this way!  

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Samantha

The tip of my nose stings.

My eyes burn too, and my face feels dry and swollen from all the crying I've done the last couple days. I wouldn't be surprised if I had a headache I simply grew accustomed to since my unexpected journey began.  

Sniffling, I tug up the sleeves of my loose toga, lifting a hand and wiping away the tears spilling from my cheeks as the cool breeze punishes my skin for running. Unshed tears blur my vision as a fuzzy body of water appears in the distance, filling my heart up with fragile hope for the first time in days. 

 Gathering the last of my strength, I speed up my weak jog and pray the Fates aren't fooling with my emotions again. I've been running all day. I'm really hungry and really thirsty, because as it turns out, strange, weird guys who want to marry you after kidnapping you don't like it very much when you try to escape multiple times. 

And, as I just found out last night, the only way to get a man like that to leave you alone is by setting him on fire after he tries making the marriage legitimate. 

After just one day of appearing wherever this is, he and his friends set a big celebration followed by a two day ceremony where they cut my hair even shorter and gifted me toys. Like, actual toys for a child. I didn't understand what was happening at first, but when his friends started chanting and he grabbed me before flinging me over his shoulder, I realized it wasn't just some foreign rite of passage. It was a wedding-- and judging by the looks of the few women present, I wasn't the only girl it'd ever happened to. 

One girl even looked away after making eye contact with me as I was carried off. 

And because of her --because of the sad, regretful almost pity-filled look in her irises-- I dug my nails into his back and begged the universe to appease my request this one time and allow fire to consume my fingertips once more. 

Unfortunately, the universe didn't hear me. But, I was able to startle him enough he loosened his grip for a second, and that was all I needed to squirm and make him stumble onto another man holding a torch. With both our weights suddenly thrust onto the onlooker, he tripped and fell, taking us with him onto the itchy grass-- giving me the opportunity to snatch the man's torch away and bring it to the edge of my abductor's toga, setting him on fire. 

Other men tried stepping in after me as I scrambled to get up and leave, but they soon forgot about me as the fire clinging to my kidnapper's clothing soon started to gnaw away at his skin and they lunged themselves at the flames, trying to rid themselves of it. 

I didn't hesitate in breaking off into a run. I just wanted to escape, even if I wasn't sure where. I just knew that if I stayed he'd either become violent or try to engage in marital activities as soon as everyone left. Either way, I was screwed if I didn't leave. 

So, without food or water or even a horse to escape with, I fled from the village and somehow ended up here, in a dry place where several large bushes greet and surround the bank of a shallow river snaking up its way into the far distance.  

The evening skies make its banks glisten in a dazzling blanket of roses and violets, giving it an element of beauty that beckons me towards its shores alongside the existing desperation for water. Quickly clambering to reach the river, I all but fling myself at the mild ripples of water brushing up against the grainy sand at my feet, kneeling down and dipping my hands in the water, savoring the cool silence of the sunset and the soft hum of singing crickets. 

Trails of shivers overtake my arms as the wind's temperature lowers, distracting me for but a second as I cup my hands, dip them into the river and bring the water to my lips. It tastes terrible-- like dirt and other things I don't want to name, but it satisfies the intense thirst that plagued me during the past twenty four hours. Beggars can't be choosers I suppose. 

Repulsed by the taste but spurred on by remaining thirst, I dip my hands into the water again only to completely still as the sound of rustling bushes disrupts the peaceful silence. A voice follows the sound of footsteps on pebbles and dirt. 

"Alástor, peismatáriko álogo! Sas édosa ídi neró, o kósmos boreí na archísei na pistévei óti sas kakometacheirízomai an synechísete étsi!" 

Immediately sitting upright, the fear of encountering my kidnapper spurs me into scurrying behind the nearest tree or bush, forcing me into preventing a gasp from slipping past my lips as a familiar head of black curly hair emerges from the bushes. Right behind him appears the magnificent black horse I saw up close when Thanatos, Hecate and I were getting ready to appeal to Poseidon-- right before I was turned to nothing but ashes. 

 His voice makes tears come to my eyes as relief envelops my chest. Other feelings come to the surface as well as his tall form ambles towards the banks of the river, but they're insanely inappropriate given the fact I was almost married last night, and I'm not sure if this Hades will understand a single word I say or turn out to be as kind as the one I'm familiar with.

I watch him send his horse an unimpressed look, the corners of his lips dipped in irritation as he gestures to the shores of the water. He says something else, but he suddenly stops mid-sentence as I accidentally step on a pebble that slips under my sandal, creating a raspy noise. 

Thinking that if I remain quiet he'll dismiss the sound as that of an animal's, I press my back up against the tree and wait for him to continue talking to his horse. In the meantime, I weigh my options. I can either find my way to the Fates again and risk them killing me a second time, die here in the wilderness because I was born in a city in modern California and have absolutely no survival skills, take my chances in a village where men kidnap women and force them to marry them, or risk an encounter with a Hades who coincidentally was on the surface the day Fate decided to send me into a time loop. 

I'm not really liking my odds here. 

"Alastor." 

I slowly release an exhale as Hades addresses his horse again, biting my lip as the thought of staying here and actually tapping into my innate survival skills disgusts me. Me and hunting wild animals for food and drinking water possibly filled with microscopic parasites simply do not mix. Not in the long run.

Hooves and a command in a foreign language spur me into taking a peek from above the bush keeping me hidden. In agonizing silence I watch the eldest of the gods disappear into the lushness of the surrounding fields, his curly black head probably the last part of him I'll ever get to see. At least, in this life. Or alternate reality, or timeline I find myself stuck in. 

It's probably the closest I'll get to talking to him. 

Blowing out a shaky exhale, I move to take a step toward the river --looking to further satiate my thirst-- when a swift movement and the loud sound of a pounding horse startle me into turning around so quickly I trip and fall on my own feet. 

With a heart beating so erratically I fear it'll jump out my ribcage, I scramble to stand up on the sand and run to the river's shore, looking around frantically for anything I could use as a weapon. Picking up the closest decent-sized stone I can find, I wait with bated breath for the horse and master behind the rustling leaves and bushes to step out into the open. 

The clinking sounds of jugs of food and water brushing up against one another are reminiscent of the man who kidnapped me, the whipping noises coming from within the woods are very much like the lashes he gave his poor horse when he first abducted me. 

Narrowing my eyes, I wade further into the water, causing small, eerily quiet ripples to form around my knees as for an instant it seems like time stands still. Or, more realistically, as Fate counts the last seconds left of my life, since I don't know for sure if I'm no longer human.  

As the sounds of hooves become louder, I lift my arm up slowly and raise the stone in my fist. I'm about to launch it in front of me when gray and black stains of smoke and ash appear in the shape of the legs and arms of my captor... until I catch the faces of his unhappy companions. 

Then my stone just seems rather pathetic. 

Especially since each one of them is carrying at least one set of a bow and arrow. For the second they all stare at me in disdain, I try and come up with an escape plan that won't get me killed. Or accidentally married. I can either wait for one of them to approach me and risk an encounter in order to steal one of their weapons, or I can die. There might be a third option, but that one seems too gruesome to think about for more than five seconds. 

Covered in wounds caused by fire, their leader looks at me flatly as he dismounts from his horse. Extending me an arm, he says something while gesturing to his men with his other arm. Both are stained with bruises, and his face is marked by the occasional signs of soot. 

I return his expression blankly, not understanding what he's trying to say. Raising my stone again, I watch him drop his arrows onto the sand in a small cloud of dust, motioning for me to approach him as he takes a step toward me. 

Now less than six feet away, I move to lower my raised arm as the cloud settles, wading in his direction in thick, pregnant silence. Before he can say defenseless bride in his language, I raise my arm once more and let the stone fly. 

Missing him.