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Anya’s Odyssey PREVIEW
by MagnusMagneto
1)
“19.” A breathy, feminine voice called out.
Anya dropped from the pull up bar, having finished a set of single-armed pull ups. Her entire upper body was swollen from the effort, causing her hard baseball sized biceps to pop out. A pair of capped shoulders and engorged pectorals joined in, giving her entire upper body an almost menacing appearance.
“Towel madam?” A slender, elderly man offered Anya, handing her a clean white towel. Despite being a couple decades her senior, he was remarkably well-preserved.
Silently, she grabbed the cloth and began wiping the perspiration from her face and upper half. Her clothing, an incredibly revealing sports bra and a barely decent pair of boyshorts were a stark contrast to the man’s full suit. After cleaning herself off, she handed the towel back to the man.
Anya’s butler, Chuck, couldn’t help but give the body on display in front of him a thorough looking over. Even though he had been tending to Anya the majority of her life, as a red blooded man, she was still a sight to behold. She stood a proud 5’10” with long, powerful limbs covered in flawless velvety smooth skin. In contrast, his somewhat meager 5’7” and thin, atrophying muscles gave him a weak appearance next to her.
Despite the rush of endorphins from flooding her body, Anya was visibly frustrated.
“What’s the matter madam?”
“I’m…” she took a breath. “Getting weaker.” she admitted.
Only under the greatest scrutiny would one realize Anya’s true age. After applying makeup, even the sharpest eyes would have difficulty not mistaking her for a woman in her 20s. Still, this wasn’t good enough for the beautiful and prideful woman. The fact that her body was slowly losing its glory was unacceptable.
“Madam, if I may be frank for a moment, you’re far fitter than almost every human both male and female on the planet, and you’re nearly fift-”
“Shush!” the woman quickly interrupted. “Never speak about a lady’s age like that!”
“Yes madam.” the man responded. He hunched his gray head downward as a display of obedience.
Anya took a moment to collect herself. “My apologies Chuck. I’m not used to dealing with something like this.”
It was a rare outburst for the woman – she was typically supremely cool and collected, giving her an almost eerily domineering presence. Anya’s statement was also quite true, impending failure was something the woman wasn’t mentally equipped to handle. In many ways, she was an unfathomably fortunate person – a one in a multi-million combination. Blessed with absolutely top tier genetics, Anya possessed a lethal triad of beauty, brains and brawn. She even was granted a great fortune when she turned 18, and with smart investing was able to multiply it into a cool few hundred million over the course of her lifetime.
Chuck reiterated his point “For what it’s worth madam, there really, simply aren’t many people who can perform 19 consecutive single handed pull ups on the planet.”
The brunette let out a slightly agitated sigh. “It doesn’t matter Chuck. Soon I’ll be down to 18. Then 17. So on and so forth. I’m sure my bench press and other lifts are all lower as well. Just a matter of time until my reaction time starts to decline in a similar fashion.”
Chuck was unsure of how to respond. He knew Anya well enough to simply drop the subject. “What will you be doing for the rest of today Madam?”
“Weapons training. Hand to hand training. Then some research.” Anya replied.
“Very well.”
–
The next month passed in a typical fashion, Chuck could tell something was off with Anya. She seemed more withdrawn and distant, as if her mind were focused elsewhere. He had lived with her long enough to know what was eating away at the middle aged woman – her age.
A few months later Anya, performing her typical exercise routine, found that she could only perform 18 single handed pull-ups. This drove her nearly mad, as she was tangibly faced with the prospect of her own mortality. Anya began obsessively looking into any way she could regain and preserve her youth.
Despite her wealth and sharp intellect, it seemed to be a hopeless case. All Anya could realistically expect to do was wait lifespan enhancing medical breakthroughs. Anya estimated that with her genetics, diet and lifestyle, she could live to be over 100, but even if she succeeded in that, there was no guarantee the research she needed would be completed by then. Besides, if her lifespan could be extended, it was dubious if, or when, Anya would ever be able to rejuvenate her body to its prime. Not to mention, in the meantime she would have to deal with her godlike body deteriorating day by day.
Theoretically, Anya could use her considerable wealth to help speed up the research process. She considered the idea of building her wealth further. If she could breach the billion mark in a decade, perhaps she could then fund a massive research company that could brute force its way towards reclaiming her youth.
Anya was seated an almost throne-like chair, legs crossed as she sipped a glass of high quality wine. The walls of the room were adorned with various artifacts that Anya won herself from scouring ancient tombs, temples, crypts and other similar locations. Her mind wandered to the purpose of these items. For her, there was little value beyond bragging rights and owning a piece of history, but to those who created and initially coveted them there was far more.
Having not tended to her for a while, Chuck entered the elaborate trophy room. Characteristically, Anya was wearing very little, only covering the bare necessities of decency. Despite her increasing age, her body was still a spectacle to behold for Chuck – even after years of exposure. The thick sinews of power on Anya’s large legs bunched up thanks to her sitting position. Her dominating position over the chair’s handles fully showcased her thick capped shoulders and rounded biceps. As her long, slender fingers cupped the wine glass, a collection of powerful ridges emerged on her forearms.
Chuck could sense that despite her naturally commanding presence Anya was currently quite vulnerable. “Madam” he greeted her.
Anya let out a sigh. “Just call me Anya today.”
“Very well Anya. If I may…”
“Yes, you may. Chuck, you can do whatever you want today. Just be free.”
“As you wish. So, what’s on your mind? Thinking of the glory days of plundering artifacts?”
The aging woman let out another sigh. “Somewhat.”
“For what it’s worth, I’d say your glory days are here today. You’re far wealthier and more intelligent than you’ve ever been before. In fact, even physically you’re much greater than when you first started adventuring.”
Anya thought back to her first expedition. She was a ripe 19 years old, having only been in possession of her life changing fortune for a year. For the most part she had been wise with the 10 million dollars granted to her, allowing it to be maintained and invested by financial advisers trusted in her family.
Her entire life up until that point Anya had been a noticeably athletic and strong woman. She had trained in numerous sports, mostly preferring those focusing on the individual, in particular various forms of combat training. At that age, while she was rational with her money, her true passion lay in uncovering the few archeological mysteries left in the world.
Anya spent the next decade of her life trekking to various locations of interest. She was careful to spend less than what her investments paid, which was a surprisingly large amount of money thanks to her adviser’s skill. Over the following years her mind and body continued to improve. She was constantly pushing herself to the next level, devouring as much knowledge as possible, and achieving ever greater levels of fitness.
During her journeys, she ran into many bizarre ancient artifacts, which she enjoyed collecting and storing in her manor. She could have sold the objects for greater riches, but that seemed disingenuous to the young woman. For the most part, her treks, while far more exciting than that of the average person’s life, were nothing compared to the adventures found films like Indiana Jones. Everything she came across was logical and rational for the most part… Except for one journey that stuck in her mind for the rest of her life.
The location in question was an underground temple in South America. Anya was 22 at the time, and had to spend a sizable portion of her budget for the trek paying off the locals to let her ‘trespass’ on the sacred ground. For the most part, the structure itself was nothing too surprising, but there was one thing she encountered that she never wrapped her mind around.
In the innermost chamber of the temple was a massive stone door. Next to the door was a slab of stone with a hand-shaped imprint, and a strange assortment of text, numbers and symbols. Anya had no idea what she was staring at. She placed her hand on the stone’s imprint, and to her shock, it matched nearly perfectly to her long, slender fingers. Unnerved by the bizarre sight, she tried her best to shrug it off and left.
–
At around the age of 30 Anya stopped adventuring. She had seen so many sights and been to such a wide variety of vistas, that there was little left for her to truly explore. It was around this point that Anya had begun a greater focus on improving herself. She started weight training, which caused her supremely fit body to sprout powerful muscles at a rapid pace. She began rigorously studying finance, and a year later dismissed the family advisers, taking her fortune under her own care.
With some risky moves, Anya quickly increased her wealth multiple times over. While Anya hadn’t taken any true lovers in her lifetime, she was known to occasional descend into the nearby city and find a conquest for the evening. Anya had never met a man that she truly looked up to, and as a result, satiated her urges with simple flings.
For the most part, Anya had been very fulfilled in life. Focusing on improving herself had always paid off in spades, enough to distract her from any longing of raising a family or finding true love. Today however, it dawned on her that it was just a matter of time until all of her efforts faded. Her spectacular body was slowly losing its luster and there was nothing she could do.
–
Anya regained focus in the present and turned her attention to Chuck. “I need to regain my passion. I’ve been so focused on bettering myself that I haven’t really enjoyed the life I’ve built. I think it’s time to indulge in my passions again.”
Chuck nodded. “I agree. Someone of your caliber should truly be enjoying herself. Is there anything in particular you have in mind?”
“You flatter me too much. Well, seeing all of these artifacts does make me nostalgic. Unfortunately, I uncovered many of the world’s mysteries, and in my time away from adventuring many more have been solved.”
“Very true. There is still… the one though.”
Anya instantly knew what Chuck was referring to – it was the very trek she was just thinking about. “Are you implying…?”
Chuck shrugged. “Not to disparage your past self, but you possess at least two or three times the skill you did back then. Perhaps taking another crack at it now would yield new results?”
Anya stroked her chin. He had a point. Since then she had learned numerous languages and improved her capacity for critical thinking multiple times over. If she could take another gander at the strange markings on the door today, it was possible she could decipher them.
“Good idea Chuck. I’ll leave the preparations to you. Let’s plan on my departure taking place in a few days. In the meantime I’ll brush up on my cryptology.”
“Very well.” The elder bowed his head slightly before departing.
2)
A few days later
As Anya donned her old adventuring outfit, she found herself practically squeezing her oversized body into it. It almost wasn’t worth the trouble, but the nostalgia factor, and overall silliness of the moment was too much for Anya to pass up. Contrary to the norm for this kind of situation, Anya wasn’t too fat for the outfit, instead her muscles were too large.
The aging woman felt a surge of confidence. This was tangible proof that she was, in fact, far stronger and more able-bodied than she was in the past. Unfortunately, even this minor triumph felt hollow, as it was another reminder that Anya’s constant upward spiral through life was coming to its end. “If only I could just keep getting fitter and stronger every year of my life.” she commented with a sigh.
After struggling a bit longer, she finally managed to fully fit into the outfit. She examined herself in the mirror and smirked. The outfit was a teal tank-top and outrageously short khaki shorts. Her bulging trunk-like thighs reduced the bottom to something closer to a pair of underwear. The bottom pair of her thick abs were visible thanks to her wide upper body forcing the tank-top to ride up several inches.
Chuck had prepared her equipment in a couple stylish packs that she wore around her wide hips. He had also made the appropriate preparations with her personal pilot for transportation and paid off the locals just as Anya had over 15 years prior.
–
In under 24 hours, Anya was inside the subterranean temple, staring at the perplexing door again. To her surprise, it looked exactly the same as she had remembered last time, despite over a decade having passed. Anya turned her gaze to mysterious message that stumped her so many years ago.
A jumbled mess of various letters, numbers and symbols met her vision. She poured over them, desperately trying to decipher what they could mean, if anything. Before long, her sharp mind began to pick up on something – these were all pieces of various forms of language and other written communication.
Surprisingly, Anya was able to figure out the meaning in a mere few minutes.
The message translated: “The blood of a true monarch will lead the way to true divinity.”
“How did I not recognize this before?” she asked herself with a smirk. Despite her advancing age, there was no doubt that the woman standing before the door that day was far superior to the girl she was more than two decades prior.
“Blood of a true monarch…” she mused. Thoughts began running through her mind. Could a door like this actually detect blood? She drew closer to the hand-shaped imprint and examined it. Upon further inspection, there were actually small pores within the stone, meaning it was possible for a liquid to pass through.
“Well, it’s not like something this old thing would be able to possibly discern blood from any other liquid.” Anya deduced. She grabbed a canteen from her supplies, poured some water into her cupped hand, and placed it on the seal.
She waited a few moments, but nothing happened. As Anya brought her hand to the imprint, she felt the same sensation of uneasiness experienced decades prior. Why did her hand fit so neatly? It was almost like it was modeled after her. This was made even more perplexing by the fact that she was quite tall for a woman of the modern era, and would have been a giant in those days.
That’s when it hit her. She needed to try putting her own blood in the stone’s pores. The idea spit in the face of all rational thought, but what did she really have to lose?
After lingering on the moment, she decided to get it over with. Worst came to worst, she’d come back with an excavation team and drill through the damn thing with an industrial machine. The natives would get restless, but a few million dollars for an old passion project would surely silence them. Anya took out her knife, a blade so large it bordered on being classified as a short-sword, and deftly sliced the palm of her hand. She was prepared for the pain, and remained steadfast, refusing to wince from the wound.
Blood began to drip from her palm, and after a fair amount collected, Anya brought her hand up to the large hand imprint on the door. She held it there for a few moments, and before long strange clicking noise rang throughout the room. A sweat broke out down Anya’s thick neck, and her ears filled with the sounds of stone grinding against itself. She looked over at the door, and to her bewilderment, it began to open!
Anya’s heart began to race, was this really happening? She gulped anxiously as the stone door continued to slowly open. The next few moments dragged on, but eventually the mechanism finished, revealing a pitch black room. Anya retracted her hand, which caused the door to begin closing itself.
Without another moment of thought, Anya quickly darted into the opened passageway. The room was still completely dark, leaving the woman completely blind. She fumbled for her flashlight, but before she could find it, the door behind her finished closing and a series of torches lit themselves. In front of Anya was an elaborate shrine surrounding an ornate pedestal holding a clear glass of liquid.
Cautiously, Anya moved closer to the shrine, where she found more of the mysterious language from outside the door etched in stone. This message was significantly longer than the last. Her powerful mind, having been enriched by solving the last message was able to decipher this puzzle far faster than the last one, which approximately read:
“Here lies the blood of a goddess. Be warned, for the path of ascension is lonely and bears a great burden. Drink only if you are prepared.”
Another chill ran down Anya’s spine, and she slowly moved up the steps leading to the top of the pedestal. As she approached the glass, she noticed a rolled up parchment next to it. Before tending to the mysterious liquid, she carefully picked up the scroll, which was remarkably well preserved. Anya unraveled the parchment, and found what appeared to be a map of the world. This was bewildering to the well-studied woman on numerous levels given how ancient it was.
Anya shook her head and reminded herself that there was actual magic at work before carefully folding the parchment up and placing it into a pouch pocket. She returned her attention to the glass. She reached over and clasped it. Could this really be safe to drink? Anya uncorked the bottle and took a whiff – the liquid was completely odorless.
For a few moments, Anya stared at the bottle, unsure of what she should do. If this was, in fact, as old as she was lead to believe, it had preserved itself incredibly well. Not a single sign of age was present, it was as if the liquid had been suspended in time within its container.
Against her basic instincts, Anya concluded that given the clearly magical events of the past few moments, she couldn’t let this opportunity go wasted. She brought the uncorked bottle to her lips and began drinking its contents. She took a few confident gulps, and found the liquid to be completely flavorless – similar to water. Anya took another long swig, leaving the bottle about half full. She was unsure if the liquid wasn’t simply well-preserved water.
Disappointed in the lack of an obvious conclusion, Anya decided head home. She turned around and approached the door, and to her surprise, it simply opened on its own accord. After she passed underneath its threshold, it closed behind her once more. Being a woman of science, the entirety of the past few minutes had utterly unnerved her.
You can buy this story here: Anya's Oddysey!