Anya’s Odyssey Retouched – Part 1
Remastered December 2018
Originally Published 2014
Created by MagnusMagneto [ https://www.magnusmagneto.com ]
Cover art by JINworks
1.) “Nineteen.” A breathy, feminine voice called out.
Anya dropped from the pull up bar. She just finished a set of single-armed pull ups. Her entire upper body was swollen from the effort. Particularly, her hard, baseball-sized biceps popped out. Pairs of capped shoulders and protruding pectorals gave her entire upper body a menacing V-taper.
“Towel madam?” A slender, elderly man offered Anya a clean white towel. Despite being nearly two decades her senior, he was remarkably well-preserved.
Silently, she grabbed the cloth and wiped the perspiration from her face and upper body. Her clothing, a revealing sports-bra and a tight pair of boy-shorts, contrasted starkly against the man’s full suit. After cleaning herself off, she handed the towel back to him.
Anya’s butler, Chuck, couldn’t help but thoroughly look over the body on display in front of him. Even though he had been tending to Anya most 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 silky-smooth skin. In contrast, his somewhat meager 5’7” and thin, atrophying muscles made him look weak next to her.
Throughout most of her life, Anya was the beautiful person in the room. Her deep brown eyes caught stares from many men throughout her life. Her brunette hair was always kept long, and always kept immaculate – soft as velvet, with no split-ends, and a natural shimmer under any light.
Despite the rush of endorphins from the pull-ups, Anya was visibly frustrated.
“What’s the matter madam?” Chuck asked
“I’m…” she took a breath, “Getting weaker,” she admitted.
Only with 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 late 20s.
But this consolation prize wasn’t good enough for the prideful woman. The fact that her body was slowly losing its glory was unacceptable – a blight that had to be combated.
“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!” Anya interrupted. “Never speak about a lady’s age like that!”
“Yes madam.” Chuck hunched his gray head downward, displaying his obedience.
Anya took a moment to collect herself. She replied, “My apologies Chuck. I’m not used to dealing with something like this.”
It was a rare outburst for Anya. She was typically cool and collected, giving her a naturally domineering presence. Anya’s statement was also quite true, failure was something she wasn’t well equipped to handle. In many ways, she was an unfathomably fortunate person. Blessed with top tier genetics, Anya possessed a lethal triad of beauty, brains and brawn. Her combined genetic assets were a one-in-a-multi-million combination. She was even granted a great fortune when she turned 18, and with smart investing was able to multiply it into a few hundred million dollars 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 – even among those who train remarkably hard their entire lives.”
Agitated, Anya sighed. “It doesn’t matter Chuck,” she started, “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. Weight lifting. Then some research.” Anya replied.
“Very well.”
–
While the next month passed in a typical manner, Chuck could tell something was off with Anya. She seemed more withdrawn and distant, as if her mind were focused elsewhere. Something was eating away at her. And Chuck had lived with her long enough to know it was her age.
Another month passed.
While performing her typical exercise routine, Anya found that she could only perform 18 single handed pull-ups. This drove her nearly mad, as she was again confronted with her own mortality. Anya began obsessively searching for any way she could regain and preserve her youth.
Despite Anya’s great wealth and intellect, immortality seemed like a lost cause. All she could realistically expect to do was wait for 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. Worst of all, in the meantime Anya would have to watch her godlike form deteriorate with each passing day.
Theoretically, Anya could use her considerable wealth to help accelerate 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 research team to brute force its way towards reclaiming her youth.
Anya was seated in 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 herself won 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 to them 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. Like usual, Anya was wearing very little, only covering the bare necessities of decency. Despite her increasing age, Anya’s body was still a spectacle to behold for Chuck – even after years of exposure to it. The thick sinews of muscle on Anya’s large legs bunched up in her sitting pose. Her dominating position over the chair’s handles highlighted 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.
In many respects, it was Chuck’s adoration for Anya’s body that kept him in her servitude. He could have retired years ago or sought a less socially isolating job. But no woman he met ever came close to Anya. Nobody could match her presence, power, and genius. And despite her callous attitude, and demanding lifestyle, Chuck couldn’t imagine living around anyone lesser than her.
Chuck could sense that despite her naturally commanding presence Anya was currently quite vulnerable. “Madam,” he greeted her with a bow.
Anya sighed and replied, “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.” For most servants that order would have meant an appreciated day off. But Chuck wasn’t interested in going anywhere, “So, what’s on your mind? Thinking of the glory days of plundering artifacts?”
She sighed again. “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 trained in numerous sports, preferring those focusing on the individual, especially 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 rather large sum of money thanks to her adviser’s skill.
Over the following years her mind and body continued to improve. She constantly pushed herself to the next level, devouring as much knowledge as possible, and achieving ever greater levels of fitness.
During her journeys, Anya 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. Her treks, while far more exciting than the average person’s life, were nothing compared to the adventures found in 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 lay a massive stone door. Next to it 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 with 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 focused more 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 three years 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 occasionally descend into the nearby city and find a conquest for the evening.
Anya never met a man that she truly looked up to; and as a result, never fell in love. Instead, she 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 came to 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 look 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 me departing in one week. In the meantime, I’ll brush up on my cryptology.”
“Very well.” The elder bowed his head slightly before departing.
Anya head to her personal library, where she remained for the rest of the day.
2.) A few days later.
As Anya donned her old adventuring outfit, she found herself practically squeezing her muscular 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. “My body’s come a long way,” Anya said, remembering how thin her arms were as a young woman – her biceps were only around 11 inches, almost twig-like next to her current 17-inch arms.
This gave Anya confidence. It 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 – it was just 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 squeeze 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 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.
–
Within under 24 hours, Anya was inside the subterranean temple, staring at the perplexing door again. To her amazement, it looked exactly the same as she had remembered last time, despite over a decade having passed.
Anya stared at mysterious message that stumped her so many years ago. A jumbled mess of various letters, numbers and symbols filled her vision. She poured over them, desperately trying to decipher what they could mean, if anything. Before long, her sharp mind noticed something: the letters formed various fragments of language and other written communication.
As Anya stared at the letters, her mind translated each fragment. She 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, she noticed there were 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.
Anya placed her hand inside the stone imprint and she felt the same sensation of uneasiness she experienced decades prior. Why did her hand fit so neatly? It was almost like it was modeled after her.
Anya started thinking, ‘Why is the hand imprint feminine, and why is it this big? I’m quite tall for a woman of the modern era and would have been akin to a giant to the locals of this region when this temple was made.’
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 rational thought, but what did she have to lose?
After lingering on the moment, Anya decided to get it over with. Worst came to worst, she’d come back with an excavation team and drill through the damn door with an industrial machine. The natives would get restless, but a few million dollars would surely silence them and was worthwhile to conclude an old passion project.
Anya took out her knife, a blade so large it bordered on being classified as a short-sword or machete, and deftly sliced the palm of her hand. She was prepared for the pain, and remained steadfast, refusing to wince from the wound.
Blood dripped from Anya’s palm, and after a fair amount collected, she brought her hand up to the large hand imprint on the door. She held it there for a few moments. ‘This is absolutely insane,’ she thought to herself, starting to become concerned about her own mental state.
Suddenly, 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 raced, was this really happening? She gulped anxiously as the stone door continued to slowly open. ‘What’s powering the doors like this?’ she thought, her mind racing to try and figure out what was going on. ‘How did it detect my blood?’ and a flurry of other question haunted her.
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 slowly close the same way it opened. Without another thought, she darted into the opened passageway. The room was still completely dark, leaving her 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. ‘This also seems… impossible…’ she thought, marveling at the torches’ automation.
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. Slowly, she 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.
She carefully picked up the scroll, which was remarkably well preserved. “This should be crumbling within my hands, or already disintegrated. And yet it seems to have no deterioration or damage at all,” Anya muttered to herself.
‘Normally I’d try to keep this as preserved as possible, but this is not a normal situation,’ Anya thought before unraveling the parchment, revealing what appeared to be a map of the world. ‘How is this possible? A map of the world this complete wasn’t created until at centuries later…’ she marveled internally.
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. Like the map, it was supernaturally well preserved. Not a single sign of age was present, as if the liquid had was suspended in time within its container.
“As a woman of logic, I’m forced to admit that these events seem to have been magical in origin. It would be a shame to waste any opportunities,” Anya said to herself.
Anya brought the uncorked bottle to her lips and took a swig. The liquid to be completely flavorless. She took a few confident gulps, leaving the bottle about half full. ‘Is this simply well-preserved water?’ Anya wondered.
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.
The rest of Anya’s return journey was uneventful aside from the thoughts racing through her mind.
On the return trip home, Anya felt the same, despite having consumed half of the mysterious liquid. She considered drinking the rest of it but decided to wait a few days for any effects to manifest before making any rash decisions.
After returning to her sprawling manor, Anya quickly made her way to her artifact and trophy room. She placed the vial containing the “goddess’s blood” in a safe and spent the next few hours poring over the strange map she found. Just like the engravings in the original tomb, the writing on the map was an amalgam of various languages. As far as Anya could tell, the map was almost entirely accurate. Certain locations were specifically marked off – each spot in a completely different part of the world from the others.
Fascinated by the parchment, Anya employed her extensive archeology knowledge and resources to determine its date of creation. To her surprise, the tests found no evidence of aging at all – it matched something printed the same day.
“This is impossible…” Anya murmured, staring at the results. ‘Literally impossible,’ her mind continued, ‘I’ve had this map for over two days now.’
Anya tested the map again with a different method. It returned the same result, though claimed the document was a few hours younger than the first test did.
Unsure of what to believe or conclude, Anya took some pictures of the map, placed them on a secured private hard drive, and locked the map away with the liquid in the same safe.