It was all consuming, soul wrenching and mind numbing; the purest form of agony imaginable on heaven and earth. Nothing could quench the torturous flames, no word was strong enough to dampen it, no touch compassionate enough to heal it.
Often, he had considered himself fortunate having survived situations that should have extinguished his life force years ago. He had been lucky--- or so he thought. But now, as that excruciating pain flooded through him body, mind and soul, he felt like the unluckiest man alive. In a small corner of his mind that contained his deepest, darkest thoughts, he wished he were dead; anything so as not to have to face this pain again. He wasn't strong enough.
Twice before this horrendous agony had flooded his being. That summer afternoon, long ago when his beloved dog Ty had died and the grey, dismal day when his cherished wife and son had left his side to travel to the Elysian fields. The pain had been so severe he had nearly given up on life.
Hadn't he been punished enough? Why had the Fates deemed to bring this tragedy down on him again and while it wasn't true death, for Iolaus, it was the same. The brother of his heart had left him to join his father on Mount Olympus, leaving the mortal half of his soul behind, alone, an empty husk of a man.
The wind blew harshly against his face and he had no idea how long he and Jason had been standing there staring. There was nothing to mark the spot where he had last seen his beloved brother; the grass wasn't even trampled. It was as if it had never occurred. But it had, and things would never be the same.
Jason reached out a hand and placed it on the grieving hunter's shoulder. "He did what he thought was right and what was best for mankind."
Iolaus allowed himself the barest of nods. The warring emotions of hate and love sparred in his aching heart. As much as he loved his brother and respected the decision he made, he hated the man for making it and for leaving him.
"I need to be---- alone," he choked out as he shook free of Jason's touch. The haunted hunter could feel the tears threatening to spill from his sea blue eyes and he kept his back to his warrior friend as he bolted for the woods. As he passed by Alcmene's grave, his eyes came to briefly rest on the lovingly carved headstone that had been placed there by Hercules' own two hands only hours before. Iolaus lost the battle. Tears of sorrow coursed down his face and a gut wrenching sob escaped his lips. To lose the mother and brother of his heart in the space of a few days was too great a burden to bare.
When he was safely shielded by the dense stand of trees, he fell to his knees and beat his fists on the earth screaming "Why! Why!" Sobs racked his muscular frame, turning it into a quivering mass, which eventually collapsed in a heap on the moss that covered the forest's floor. He curled into the fetal position, knees tucked under his chin and rocked back and forth silently, his voice having long since been lost to the wind.
Time had no meaning in the void of grief where his soul wallowed. There was no color, no light, no sound, no feeling; just grey shrouded numbness. He didn't know. He didn't care.
Darkness slid around him and the nocturnal creatures rose to take their rightful place on the dark side of the day. Still, the haunted hunter took no notice, and the darkness ignored him too.
A stray beam of sunlight forced its way through the forest's canopy. It danced across the morning dew coming to rest on the leather-clad body that lay as still as death amongst the trees. It tickled the man, doing it's best to rouse him from the land of the lost and bring him to the land of the living. Persistence paid off and slowly, the misty blue eyes opened. The sunbeam, it's mission accomplished, skittered away.
The eyes sluggishly lost their glazed look as the body, mind, and the soul struggled to regain their rightful places. The body achieved its goal first as the man cautiously sat up and tried to unkink its knotted form.
The mind came onboard next, reminding the body what had come to past. The body was not happy to receive the mind's reminder and it let forth with a groan.
The soul hovered, unsure, then valiantly tried to squeeze back into the space it once occupied. However, try as it might, it would not fit.
The body and mind conferred on how to help their soul mate. Finally, the mind conceived the plan and the body executed it. The hands grasped a the corner of the well-worn vest that clad the hunter. On the mind's command, they tore a small piece from the fabric and held it aloof. The soul screamed in agony as it was ripped asunder. The fingers gently caressed the worn leather scrap of material before symbolically flinging it into the wind.
At the body and mind's urging, the soul tried once again to fit into its home and much to its surprise, it was able. The soul squirmed and shifted about and while it now fit in its former socket, it did not feel right. Every now and then the rough edges of the wound would rub against the walls of the vessel causing waves of agony to flood through the body and mind. However, each success wave grew a tiny bit smaller than its predecessors offering hope that one day the waters might recede to a manageable level.
With his self somewhat intact, the weary warrior pushed himself from the forest floor and stood. With a measured tread, he made his way out of the woods towards the dwelling that once held great happiness and joy for him. He stopped on the edge of Alcmene's garden and allowed his gaze to slowly wander. There was nothing left here for him, he could feel it. It was time to go. But to where?
His eyes stopped on the gravesite wherein lay the mother of his heart. But what of the mother that given him birth? She was the only family he had left on earth and perhaps it was time to reconcile with her--- if she would have him. He had witnessed the tremendous bond between Alcmene and her son and while he knew he could never hope to achieve that level of love with his own mother, perhaps, there was still a small place in her heart were he could reside.
Having a plan and a purpose gave him direction, at least for the moment, and he strode towards the house to collect his things. Iolaus didn't know how, but he knew Jason would be all right by himself. He was still unsure that he, himself, would be Ok, but for now, he at least had a goal and he would take it one day at a time. He halted on the porch and turned to look back at the spot in the meadow where he had last seen the demigod. "I love you brother," he whispered. "Be well," and with that he entered the house to start his first journey--- alone.
The End
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