Daughter of Wine

Callida

Here we go again. 

I wake up in a grassy field, on top of a hill. In the valley below me, the landscape shifts to form a face. I've had this nightmare a million times, but it still scares the daylights out of me. 

"Calli."

"Yeah, yeah." I wave her off. "I know. You're going to kill us. My friends will die. All that. Anything new to threaten me with?"

Gaea's face shifts. She looks almost... annoyed?

"Do not taunt me. I will be the cause of your despair soon enough. I shall rip everything you find precious from you and make you watch. I will spill the blood of your precious child of fire on the stones of Mount Olympus as you watch. I shall kill your friends one by one and save you for last. You cannot protect them from me."

"Okay." I nod. "Yeah, you've really stepped it up a notch."

Gaea growls, an earthshaking, terrifying sound, and my dream changes. 

I stand in a vast gloomy space like an underground parking garage. Rows of stone pillars march off in every direction, holding up the ceiling about twenty feet above. Freestanding braziers cast a dim red light over the floor. 

I can't see very far into the shadows, but hanging from the ceiling are pulley systems, sandbags, and rows of dark theater lights. Piled around the chamber, wooden crates are labeled Props, Weapons, and Costumes. One reads: Assorted Rocket Launchers. 

I hear machinery creaking in the darkness, huge gears turning, and water rushing through giant pipes. 

Then I see the giant. At least, I guess he's a giant. 

He's about twelve feet tall, a respectable height for a Cyclops, but only half as tall as other giants I've dealt with. He also looks more human than a typical giant, without the dragon-like legs of his larger kin. Nevertheless, his long purple hair is braided in a ponytail of dreadlocks, woven with gold and silver coins, which strikes me as a very giantish hairstyle. He has a ten foot spear strapped to his back. A giantish weapon. 

He wears the largest black turtleneck I've ever seen, black pants, and black leather shoes with points so long and curly, they could be jester slippers. He paces back and forth in front of the raised platform, examining a bronze jar about my size. 

"No, no, no." the giant mutters to himself. "Where's the splash? Where's the value?" He yells into the darkness. "Otis!" 

I hear some shuffling in the distance. Another giant appears out of the gloom. He wears exactly the same black outfit, right down to the curly-whirly shoes. The only difference between the two giants is that the second one's hair is green rather than purple. 

The first giant curses. "Otis, who do you do this to me every day? I told you I was wearing the black turtleneck today. You could wear anything but the black turtleneck!"

Otis blinks as if he's just woken up. "I thought you were wearing the yellow toga today?"

"That was yesterday! When you showed up in the yellow toga!"

"Oh. Right. Sorry, Ephie." 

His brother snarls. They have to be twins, because their faces are identically ugly. 

"And don't call me Ephie," Ephie demands. "Call me Ephialtes. That's my name. Or you can use my stage name: The BIG F!"

Otis grimaces. "I'm still not sure about that stage name." 

Nonsense!" It's perfect. Now, how are the preparations coming along?"

"Fine." Otis doesn't sound very enthusiastic. "The man-eating tigers, the spinning blades... But I still think a few ballerinas would be nice."