iolaus

I'm not the kind of guy who keeps an eye on the sundial and worries about every minute of every day, like Salmoneous who's thinks that Time is Dinars. Whatever that means. Okay, sure, I admit I've got a lousy memory for birth dates and anniversaries and stuff because, hello? where am I going to keep a calendar? It's not like I have any pockets and, even if I did, those things weigh more than Cerberus! Let the Romans hump them around in all that crap they drag with them; I travel light.

As far as I'm concerned, the most important thing about Time is how fast you can get from where you are to where you're going. The bad guys and monsters aren't going to just stand around waiting for me and Herc to show up to beat the crap out of them, you know.

Iolaus cocked his head a bit to the right, as if that slight change in perspective would grant him better insight. "What do you think?"

"I think it looks like a tunnel," said Hercules.

"I can see it's a tunnel," said Iolaus with an eloquent roll of his eyes. "What I meant was, what do you think is on the other side?"

"Why don't we find out?"

"Just like that?" demanded Iolaus as he hurried to keep up with his friend's long-legged strides.

"Just like that."

"Sure, why not? In fact, why don't we knock first? Let whoever's inside know we're coming. I mean, we wouldn't want them to be surprised, would we?"

Hercules arched an eyebrow. "Where's the fun in that?"

Iolaus opened his mouth to retort then stopped as he thought better of it. "Good point," he admitted. Indicating the opening with a flourish, he said, "Brawn before beauty."

When you're a warrior, revenge is more than a creed; it's your duty to your brothers in arms. Let no wrong or foul deed go unpunished and, most important of all, never let murder go unavenged.

The thing about revenge, though, is that it can eat you alive. It's a burning hatred that never dies. The embers may cool but they never go out, waiting for the perfect opportunity to fan them into flame. Like any fire that burns to long, the heat of revenge warps and twists everything around it. Turning a valiant warrior into a murderer himself. Or turning an innocent child wronged by fate into a woman bent on making everyone and everything in her path pay for what was done to her. Revenge often doesn't stop with punishment of the guilty. It goes on to consume everything in its path, like the raging fire of hatred that spawned it. Just look at Callisto. She's the perfect example of the horrors that can be done to innocents in the name of revenge. Living for revenge is what twisted her into becoming exactly the sort of warlord she'd grown up hating. It made her worse.

Don't get me wrong; I'm just as human as the next guy. And yeah, there are times when I let my emotions get the better of me and I long for revenge. But I don't hang onto it. I won't let it turn me into a murderer or a criminal. Believe it or not, that's the one valuable thing I learned from Callisto. Revenge warps you. It isn't justice, it doesn't make you feel better, and it never, ever brings back the dead.

Truly mine, huh? Hmmmm. I don't own property. Not any more, any way. I sold the farm after Anya and my son died. No sense keeping land if you're not going to work it or even see it for months -- maybe years -- on end. I travel pretty light, too. Sure, I have some weapons, but they get some pretty hard use. If I had a dinar for every staff or sword I've broken in a fight, I'd have Salmoneous following me around like a drooling puppy dog. Not that I need them. Most of the time, I just rely on my hands and my feet and my sense of balance. A little guy like me has more leverage against a bigger opponent than you might think, if he has the right training. You know, come to think of it, that's what's truly mine. My experience. And my skill.

You know, I've never really thought about that. I really don't know. Seriously! I mean, I've done the whole domestic bliss thing. It was great for a few years but it didn't end up too happy. My wife and son died, which puts a bit of a crimp on any plans for happily ever after. And let's be honest; I wasn't cut out for animal husbandry and farming. So a family doesn't seem to be the answer. Then again, I don't really want to be a 90 year old geezer sitting around the local bar spinning war stories.

Maybe . . . well, maybe my happily ever after has everything to do with Herc. I mean, I know he wants a family and kids again. Don't get me wrong! He deserves some peace, too. A chance to be a husband and father without worrying about some jealous bitch who calls herself a goddess turning them into charcoal. Again. So yeah. That's what my happily ever after would be. Living to see Herc have another family and kids. And, of course, their Uncle Eye-O-Less getting a chance to spoil the little tykes rotten.

It wasn't funny back then because it was serious stuff to a kid. But looking back on it now . . . it's pretty damned funny. See, before I figured out my father the "great general" was a complete and total jerk, I dreamed about following in his footsteps. I mean, what son doesn't, right? I was going to be a great warrior, just like dear old dad, and lead armies into battle. A group of kids in the village would get together and play war in the afternoons after chores. We staged all sorts of mock battles. Trojans against the Spartans. That sort of thing. Sometimes even gods against gods. When I wasn't playing general, I wanted to be Ares. After all, he was what helped make my father such a great general. I used to imagine Ares sitting on Olympus looking down on six-year-old me and saying, "Hey, that kid's got talent! He's gonna be a great general, just like his dad!"

To play Ares, I'd put on all the old, battered, cast aside pieces of my father's armor I could find laying around the house. Didn't matter to me if it matched or not. Or if it fit. I remember there was this helmet so big the eye holes came down to my chin. I couldn't see a thing and bumped into a lot of trees. I was a scrawny little blonde kid pretending to be a great warrior. But I was more of a court jester in that get up than anything. Not a very dignified Ares.

The funny thing about that, looking back now, is that I did become a great warrior. Without having anything to do with Ares or his bloodlust. I was a little kid mocking Ares with the best of intentions. Now I do it on purpose.

You're kidding me, right? Iolaus of Thebes, here. Best buddy to Hercules? You know, the demi-god Hercules? Son of Zeus? Yeah, the Zeus. King of the Gods. Nice guy. Not what you'd call a doting father, if you ask me. I've met him a couple times, you know. Hard not to when you spend as much time traveling with Herc as I do. So what's not to believe? Zeus is real. So are the other gods. Sometimes it seems like I can't turn around without one popping up. Guess that's to be expected since they're Herc's relatives. Some I can do without, believe me. But others . . . well, let's just say I'd be happy to see Cupid or 'Dite or Bliss or Persephone or Hephaestus any time.

Iolaus of Thebes
Hercules/Xena
129 words

Who would you like to see get their final comeuppance? And just what would you like to do to them?

It’s a 50-50 split between horse-face Hera and that loser Strife. Yeah, I know. They're gods and they're probably gonna get pissed and try to burn my biscuits for bad mouthing them. Well, you know what? It wouldn't be the first time and it sure as hades isn't likely to be the last. So why pull any punches? But since you're asking, I'd like to see them get theirs for exactly the same reason – murdering Herc's family.

If I had to pick the greater of the two evils, I'd go with Hera. See, Strife, he's just an underling. Kind of Ares' yes-man. He killed Herc's second wife, Serena, and tried to frame him for the murder. It wasn't about punishing Serena or even hurting the big guy. Essentially, he was just kissing Ares' butt by trying to discredit Herc. End result was the same. Herc's wife was still dead. But Hera . . . the so-called "queen of the gods" . . . she knew exactly what she was doing and why. She can't exactly take her anger out on Zeus for sewing a few wild oats, so why not go after the offspring? But why Herc specifically? That I never got. I guess it doesn't matter now, does it? What matters is she not only slaughtered his first wife, Deanara, but his three little kids, too. Kids! Aeson couldn't have been older than 9! What did they ever do to her? I'll tell you what they did. They were born. Because Hercules was happy and had a family that adored him. And what does Hera have? Nothing.

So yeah, I'd like to see Hera and Strife get theirs. I'd like them to feel what Hercules felt, completely helpless while he watched his family die, burned alive by one of Hera's fireballs. But then, that would suppose either Hera and Strife had a heart. I don't think they could scrape one up between them if they tried.

Iolaus of Thebes
Hercules/Xena
327 words