Furies

William-Adolphe_Bouguereau_(1825-1905)_-_The_Remorse_of_Orestes_(1862)

Darting from behind the clouds with the piercing light of the Sun behind, they descended upon us with vengeance and a manner that befitted their names. Their attacks took more and more, until there were but a few of us left. A tear would surely be my last sound and final action.

The rest of the crew would know nothing of our end and without forewarning; they could be doomed to retrace our misbegotten steps, a tragedy, to be sure.

Endless, Punishment and Jealous Rage, these were the names of damnation set upon us for our actions, our intents, our errors. Their whips lashed backs, their poisons soured throats and their torches flayed the flesh.

We were but one now and my end was upon me. I reached out to the sand with a dagger in my hand and inscribed a warning as best as I were able…

Beware irreverence in the valley of the Gods.

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