Hellas

2,100 years since initial death
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"Loose!" They all released their bows, as flaming arrows whistled through the storming sky.

Lightning struck the sea as the arrows hit the opposing ship, setting it on fire. Several enemy archers were hit, some falling into the sea below, their blood painting the water red.

"Ready the javelins Spartans!" With a final blow, the javelins were thrown at the Athenian ship. It was enough to kill some of the remaining crew and destroy the ship's hull. Within minutes, they had sunk into the water. The Spartans won this fight, but another was about to come. In the distance, more Athenian ships followed.

The Athenians had the most powerful navy fleet in the world, able to become an indestructible force. However, the Spartans still proved their might and strength, pushing through during the battle. Nothing in the Greek world frightened these men. If it means facing death in the eyes as they take their last breath for the survival of Sparta, then so be it.

Markus readied another arrow in his bow. He was used to it by now, his archery skills grew to a point where even Artemis would be impressed. During this moment, he thought not of his home or his legacy. Instead he focused on the battle, breathing deeply as he aimed his bow against the upcoming Athenian Navy.

He's come a long way from hunting birds and hyenas in the vast deserts of Egypt. But it didn't matter to him anymore, that was a long time ago. He is no longer Maalik Seti, rather he's now Markus. Sparta is his rightful home, and he's proud to fight for the legacy of King Leonidas I.

His thoughts soon died out as the fight intensified. With a barrage of constant arrows hurtling through the smoke-filled air, and the deafening screams of dying men; it was becoming harder to concentrate. The Spartans' battle cries echoed through the raging sea, aided by the applause of more bellowing thunder coming from above. Markus was completely drenched in water, keeping his bow held up as droplets fell to the creaking wooden floorboards of their ship. 

All he wore was a leather strap around his torso that carried his quiver of arrows. He also wore a belt, large enough to drape over his legs. Still, he felt somewhat exposed. His armor mainly functioned to hold weapons and ammunition, not to withstand blows.

"Loose arrows!" The general's command bellowed in his ears as his fingers loosened and his arrow soared. He couldn't keep track of it as it became lost with the hundreds of other arrows in the sky, but he was sure his arrow still struck the ship.

The Athenians fired back, and Markus dropped his bow to raise his shield. Arrows struck all around him, but one was powerful enough to finally break through his shield after withstanding multiple arrows. It struck the top of his back, close to grazing his spine. The pain was undeniably great, yet he still stood.

Yanking the arrow from his back, he struggled to pick his bow back up and stabilize a clear shot. The storm only worsened and the dense fog impaired his vision. Then, the screaming of the general stunned him. Fingers were pointing towards the open sea. Curious, he turned his head to see what the disturbance was, squinting his eyes to try and make anything out within the dense smoke.

Through the sounds of the distant thunder, a powerful groan was heard. Voices of a hundred men echoed through the storm, rowing their oars against the battling sea. Markus continued to stare at the fog ahead preparing for the grim unknown.

Without warning, it became clear what approached them. In just moments, a golden figurehead of Athena's owl emerged from the fog. It was attached to the front of an Athenian Trireme, and it was massive in size and strength. To make matters worse, the owl figurehead was set on fire. This was to the Athenians' advantage as they charged with full speed ahead.

"Brace yourselves!" That was all Markus could hear before the imminent collision. His vision blacked out in the moment as the creaking sounds of destruction deafened him. Unable to stand, he collapsed over the wooden floorboard. Fire had already begun to spread aboard the Spartan ship.

By the time he opened his eyes, the boarding party had already arrived. Only a few Athenian men jumped aboard their ship. Markus figured this wasn't ordinary. When boarding the enemy's ship, it's common to see a majority of the opposing crew storming the deck. They all held on to their shields, pushing back the Spartan soldiers. Markus looked away, knowing that the Athenians onboard were nothing but a mere distraction.

The real terror came from above. When he looked up to the sky, it was still dark as it continued to storm. Just as he predicted, a faint ember glow appeared in the clouds suddenly. After each second that passed, the clouds became more vibrant in color until the impending danger became obvious.

Quickly, he grabbed his shield and held it above his head. This was no regular storm, it was a hellfire of arrows.

Flaming arrows struck the ship, setting everything ablaze. Dozens of Spartans were struck dead without warning as their corpses began to burn. The heavy rain calmed the raging fire only slightly, as the rest of the ship continued to smolder. Markus' shield was struck several times and was set on fire. Fortunately, none of the arrows penetrated through. Despite this, he knew his shield couldn't protect him anymore. He stood back up and surveyed his surroundings, the fight was still far from over.

As expected, several more Athenians had started to board. One particular soldier charged straight towards him with his sword drawn. In response, Markus flipped his shield and hurled it forward with full force. His shield was smaller and lighter than the average Spartan shield, allowing him to fling it with relative ease. It soared through the air and struck its target directly in the neck, nearly decapitating the Athenian soldier.

That was a move he learned in last year's Olympic training.

More soldiers ran around the flaming ship as the destruction continued. Markus was already outnumbered but he wasn't willing to go down without a fight. With only a short sword in hand, he charged at the nearest Athenian. Taking him by surprise, his blade struck through the soldier's back.

Suddenly, the ship creaked violently. It was clear that the ship was about to sink. Several Athenian soldiers retreated back to their trireme as the raid came to an end. Markus wanted to follow them, but the pain in his back became unbearable. As he ran, he cried out in pain and fell to the floorboard once more.

The Spartan warship's hull was snapped in half, unable to withstand the damage it had brutally received. Every single crewman onboard the ship was sent plummeting into the shark infested gulf below. The mast had broken off, collapsing into the water and crushing a few soldiers on impact. Just above, the Athenian Trireme had begun to sail off, leaving behind the struggling survivors to their fates.

Markus tried his best to stay afloat. The nearest shore was a thousand meters away, and he was in no condition to swim. As he looked around for wreckage to keep him afloat, he noticed it was already too late. Whether it was intentional or a misfire, a volley of arrows loomed over the survivors. Several men were struck with arrows and were met with a quick death.

However, Markus wasn't lucky enough to be met with an immediate demise. He survived the volley, leaving him stranded in the water. As he thrashed around, trying to climb atop anything that was in reach, he spotted the unmistakable appearance of a fin approaching him. He couldn't do anything to defend himself. 

This is how he's going to die. But instead of suffering the agonizing and cruel death of having his guts chewed apart, he sank his head underwater. With his head in the way of the shark's teeth, he was spared the additional pain. It was over quickly.

His mind went blank as usual.

The next time he opened his eyes, it was already morning. While it didn't surprise him anymore, he still screamed as a natural reaction to the pain he had felt. He awoke on the beach with his body bearing no trace of any wounds, but his weapons and equipment were gone. His throbbing headache made it difficult to stand back up.

In the distance, he could see where the fight had taken place. Countless ships had sunk during the battle, debris lay floating in the calm waters after the raging waves had settled. By the looks of it, it seems like a few hours have passed since his death. But it didn't matter, he accepted the loss and stood up. His initial thought was to head to Corinthia, north of Argolis. The Spartans had recently secured it under their command, and were edging closer towards Attica.

Despite how intense the battle was, it wasn't the worst thing he had experienced during the war. Besides, from what he's heard, there's an upcoming battle at Mantinea. Over seventeen thousand men are expected to face each other on the battlefield, making it the largest battle in the war yet.

Before he made the journey to Corinthia, he was met with a wave of guilt. This wasn't the first time he had perished during this war. Heading to Corinthia would mean further conflicts. He took one final look at the Argolic Gulf in the distance, clenching his fists as he made up his mind.

He had already seen enough bloodshed to haunt him for multiple lifetimes. A happy life of exploration and positivity seemed impossible with how fast this world was changing. Everywhere he went, death followed. War gave him a purpose to secure the peace he's always desired, but after a few hundred years of combat all over the Arab world; it only became tiring.

Therefore, he made the journey to Corinthia, but he didn't stop there. Resupplying himself with a newly forged blade and a fine horse, he continued his travels northeast. His destination was the heart and soul of the Greek nation. The grand city of Attica, forming the entirety of Athens.

His time in Egypt has long since passed. That moment when he noticed himself live through the years without ever aging made him think he was a God. It only added to the mystery behind his rebirth, but something soon became much more clear.

He died again. And again. And he died a fourth, fifth and sixth time. Every single time, he returned. Whether it was getting his limbs detached by crocodiles, getting impaled by a raider, falling from a tower or accidentally setting himself on fire on one occasion; he always found himself alive again after a few hours. His body returned to its pristine condition, even reversing his facial hair back to a short stubble as he had shortly before his first death thousands of years ago.

Despite swearing to never visit Giza again because of the painful memories, he returned often to visit his family. He didn't know why this was happening to him and he felt comfort just talking out loud in their presence, even if they never responded. 

Spending his time learning more about his curse, he wanted to end it. Alas, he never could. It didn't take him long to accept the fact that he was destined to live until fate had enough. So he lived on, gradually changing his ways as the ages of time took its toll on him.

When Persia regained control of the country in 484 BCE, Maalik had already fought in more battles than he could remember. He felt like it gave him a purpose to fight for something he can believe in, though the feeling of regret often washes over him after every fight.

So when he lost the will to continue the fight, he fled his home to board a Greek passage ship across the Mediterranean Sea until his arrival in Laconia. It was the home province of the Spartan military.

There, he met King Leonidas shortly before his death in 480 BCE at the battle of Thermopylae against the Persians. Markus wished he had known him longer. He was still learning more about this new world as it was far different than Egypt. But like so many other things in life, it would all come to an end, as eras ended and empires rose.

Nobody questioned his immortality, nor did anyone ever notice. He was just another identical soldier in their eyes. Though he never told a single soul about it. He's already died hundreds of times during this one war. Nobody ever cared to stick around to watch as his body regenerated, bringing him back to life. But the memories of it all remained within him.

He could remember the friends he made in each military camp he served in. The friends he would lose after every battle. Their voices haunted him constantly, as he was left with survivor's guilt. A guilt he feels he'll never lose as each day continues to pass.

But each memory came with a positive side. He can remember the joy he felt in tasting proper Greek cuisine for the first time. The feeling of empowerment and inspiration after climbing Mount Parnassus. No words could describe the world's beauty from that point.

Greece was certainly an experience unlike any other. The amount of times he's gotten into arguments with philosophers that frustrated him was countless. There was also the time he was shipwrecked near Kephallonia, only to be rescued by a woman in the sea. He passed it off as a fever dream, as he could have sworn that after their interaction ended with a brief kiss, she dove underwater only to disappear forever. What was really suspicious however was that he lost all the money he had carried after that interaction.

It also reminded him of a similar encounter with another woman near the island of Andros. Only this time, she was far more aggressive that attempted to drown him after singing him a song. He was sure it was a nightmare, because after he fought back, she too swam away; revealing a fish's tail in the process. And to make matters worse, he definitely caught her robbing him. There go his coins again.

He just needs to stop getting involved in shipwrecks and drinking too much wine. Clearly his imagination has grown too wild.

Now in the present, he remains unsure of his future. He no longer travels the nation as Maalik Seti. Rather, he changed his name upon his arrival in this new world. He was willing to abandon his old heritage and culture to fully immerse himself in the Greek nation.

He was now Markus Athánatos, or Markus the Undying.

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Historical Notes:

Argolis is the ancient name for the current region of Argos, Greece.

Artemis, the daughter of Zeus and the twin sister of Apollo is the Goddess of the hunt, animals, nature, vegetation, childbirth and the Moon. She is often depicted carrying a bow and arrow and is the greatest markswoman amongst the Gods and Goddesses. 

Greek Triremes were large ships used for transport and naval combat. Each ship usually carried around two hundred crew members in total. The majority were rowers, as the rest were armed for combat and boarding. They varied from ten to twenty soldiers. Although in some cases, a number of forty hoplites were counted for boarding.

A standard Greek Trireme

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