“I expected you to be different.” Theseus said by way of explanation. “Like the other things that have faced me as a foe.”
“I expected you to have killed me by now.” The Minotaur said in turn.
Theseus frowned at it. “You knew someone was coming?”
The Minotaur inclined its head. “Ten and four have died in this labyrinth.” It squinted at Theseus. “You must be from Athens.”
Anger surged in Theseus’s blood, a pulsing and persistent urge to raise his sword and finish the beast chanted within the confines of his head. Eloquently speaking or not, this beast had eaten Athenians and been the source of fear for his people, for the mothers who watched their children’s backs for the last time. The Minotaur was a weapon that had to be destroyed. The absolute
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Inwardly he believed that Daedalus wished to have people appreciate his brilliance, no matter who they were. There must be few that Daedalus would not have suffer at the expense of displaying his inventive mind. He may have wanted the Minotaur dead because he was as cruel as his king, or maybe if the Minotaur was correct in Daedalus being a friend it was an act of mercy.
“He is intelligent.” The Minotaur thought aloud. “Maybe he knew you would provide me with a conversation in these last moments. He knows I like those.”
Last moments? Is that what Theseus was going to do? Was he going to kill the Minotaur, free the others still alive and wandering through the labyrinth, return to Ariadne and to Athens as a hero as he had set out to do? There was glory in slaying a monster, and if everyone terms the Minotaur a monster then it must be so. The Minotaur did not want to be trapped in this intricate prison either, there would be mercy in killing
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Theseus had felt the same anger as the Minotaur during his own adolescence and every moment he raised his sword in battle after. If he had more strength in his youth what sort of chaos would he have been capable of? He could lie to himself and claim glory, though it would still be a lie. What would the gods think of him?
Athena was not the goddess of mercy.
Theseus could not help but to think of the Minotaur, who had expected a bloodthirsty Herculean hero prepared to tear the Hydra apart brandishing a sword of flame. Had he felt fear for this day, for he had known this day would come?
“I will not kill you.” Theseus said – the words clambering out before he could think twice, but he knew they were true. “I will free you.”
Theseus did not think of the what would become of the Minotaur from this offer. He did not think of the Minotaur fleeing Crete on a stolen boat, escaping Greece, and travelling North into foreign territory. He did not think of what would come next for who sat in front of him.
He thought of returning to Ariadne. To Athens.
He thought of being king.
“I do not know.” The Minotaur said slowly, uncertain.
“It’s either live with people thinking you’re dead, or