Sometimes a hero needs more than just strength

The stone steps of the temple echoed with our footsteps as we left at sunset. I held the ancient scrolls close to my chest like the treasures they were, each one filled with information that could save our lives tomorrow. 

Of course, we prayed for Apollo, well, Hercules might not have, but I did anyway.

The parchment felt familiar in my hands, bringing back memories of late nights spent in my office - though I quickly pushed those thoughts aside. 

"Are you sure we need to carry all those scrolls?" Iolaus asked as we walked through the growing shadows. He kept glancing around, watching for any sign of the lion. "They look heavy, and we might have to run tomorrow."

I shifted the bundle of papers under my arm, making sure none would fall. 

"These are important," I said, trying not to sound too excited about the historical documents. "They tell us everything about how the lion hunts and fights. That's the kind of knowledge we need right now."

That was a lie! 

Most of the scrolls I brought out had other stories but Iolaus wouldn't let me take them with me if I said they weren't related to the Lion!

He couldn't read ancient texts anyway!

Trees grew closer together as we moved deeper into the forest. The branches above us made strange patterns against the darkening sky, and our footsteps crunched on fallen leaves. The whole place reminded me of descriptions I'd read in old travel journals - those same twisted trees and rough rocks had given trouble to travelers hundreds of years ago.

Small animals scurried away as we passed, and somewhere above us an owl called out. The cool evening air carried the scent of pine needles and wild herbs. Everything felt peaceful, but we both knew the lion was out there somewhere.

"We need to find a good spot to camp," Iolaus said, his eyes scanning the shadowy woods. "Somewhere we can defend if that lion comes looking for us." His hand never strayed far from his weapon.

The light was almost gone when we found the perfect clearing. It sat against a wall of rock, with old olive trees spread around it in a half circle. Anyone trying to sneak up on us would have to get past those trees first. I recognized it as an ideal defensive position, just like the ones described in the military books I'd studied.

"This spot works well," I said, trying not to sound like I was giving a lecture on military strategy. "The rocks protect our backs, we can see anything coming through the trees, and there are three different ways to escape if we need to." I stopped myself before pointing out all the other tactical advantages I'd noticed.

We moved quickly to set up camp, by now, I knew what needed to be done after traveling together for this much with Iolaus. 

While Iolaus went to gather wood for a fire, I cleared the ground of stones and branches. A piece of broken pottery caught my eye - the patterns on it suggested people had lived here long ago. I carefully set it aside, resisting the urge to examine it more closely.

The fire crackled to life, sending sparks up toward the stars that were starting to appear. Shadows danced on the rock wall behind us, and the flames pushed back the darkness just enough to read by. I spread the scrolls around me in a circle, putting similar ones together - all the hunting stories in one pile, the physical descriptions in another.

Iolaus watched me from across the fire, poking at it with a long stick. "You're really interested in those old writings," he said. "Never seen you care so much about reading before."

I tried to look casual as I unrolled another scroll. "Sometimes a hero needs more than just strength," I said, hoping I sounded more like a warrior than a scholar. "It helps to know what you're fighting." I silently prayed he wouldn't ask where I learned that idea.

Night settled in around us as I studied the ancient words by firelight. The things these people had discovered about the lion were amazing - it liked to attack when the sun was rising or setting, it had favorite places to hunt, and it followed patterns that you could track if you paid attention.

My fingers traced the careful drawings on the scrolls, showing the lion's size and shape. Whoever made these had spent years watching the beast, learning its ways. Now their knowledge might help us survive our own meeting with it.

The fire popped and hissed, sending up a shower of sparks. An owl called again, closer this time, and a cool breeze stirred the leaves above us. Everything felt still and quiet - too quiet.

Then we heard it - a twig breaking in the darkness beyond our fire. We both stopped moving, instantly ready for trouble. 

Iolaus grabbed his javelin while I listened hard, using Hercules' powerful senses to scan the shadows.

More sounds followed - heavy footsteps that didn't try to be quiet. This wasn't the lion - it moved silently when it hunted. This was something else, something that wanted us to know it was coming.

Our small fire seemed to grow dimmer as a dark shape blocked the light. Iolaus stood up with his javelin ready while I moved into a fighting stance, feeling Hercules' incredible strength flow through my muscles.

Through the trees stepped a huge warrior in black armor who seemed to eat the firelight instead of reflecting it.

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