Demigods and Debacles: The Rise of Cyrus

By R William Penne

Meet Cyrus, the most unlikely hero you'll ever encounter. As the son of Poseidon, you'd think he'd be conquering the seas and commanding armies of mythical creatures. Instead, he's a stoner gamer who can't even swim. But when Hades kidnaps all the other demigods and threatens the world with chaos, Cyrus is thrust into an adventure of epic—and often hilarious—proportions.

In "Demigods and Debacles: The Rise of Cyrus," follow our slacker-turned-savior as he fumbles through divine quests, battles monstrous minions, and somehow, despite his best efforts to the contrary, rises to the occasion. Joined by a ragtag group of fellow demigods and his best friend Sam, Cyrus must navigate the treacherous Underworld, survive encounters with ancient gods, and come to terms with his unexpected destiny.

Packed with laugh-out-loud moments, witty dialogue, and a cast of unforgettable characters, this book is a hilarious romp through the world of Greek mythology. Whether you're a fan of epic adventures or just enjoy a good underdog story, "Demigods and Debacles: The Rise of Cyrus" is a wild ride that will leave you cheering for the most unconventional hero of them all.

Get ready for a journey filled with mythical mishaps, divine dysfunction, and a hero who's as flawed as he is funny. This is one adventure you won't want to miss.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R William Penne
• Release date: May 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224404827

R William Penne

Behold, R. William Penne, the man who has singlehandedly proven that there's more to construction management than meets the eye! R. William Penne, or Ronald William Penne if he's in trouble with his mom, isn't just an author; he's a storyteller who found himself with an abundance of time and an even greater abundance of tales itching to be told. Born in the rugged coal region areas of Pennsylvania during the 1980s—a time when men were men, coal was coal, and fashion was a question best left unanswered—Penne grew up steeped in an atmosphere thick with history and the lingering echoes of a bygone industrial era. This magical time, when The Goonies and Ender's Game reigned supreme, left an indelible mark on young Ronald, sparking a lifetime fascination with stories that span the breadth of time and imagination. So, what does a strapping young lad from Pennsylvania do with a head full of dreams and a heart yearning for adventure? He moves to New Jersey, of course! It's there, amidst the chaos of construction management and the occasional foray into piracy (of the accent variety), that Penne crafts tales that capture his wide array of interests—from the historic to the hysterical, all without putting down his beloved hammer. His literary repertoire includes 'Til Death Do Us Part, a poignant exploration of life, legacy, and the power of redemption. Wander Dog takes readers on a tail-wagging adventure with a loyal boxer dog whose devotion knows no bounds. Echoes of Time dives into a future governed by AI, where two friends discover a cave with the power to slow time itself. And let's not forget Coal Mines to Baseball Diamonds, a heartfelt tribute to Penne's roots, blending the grit of coal mining with the grace of America's pastime. Now, Penne is back with The Speed of Time: Echoes of Tomorrow, Whispers from the Past. Consider this his second swing at the themes that captivated him in Echoes of Time—a narrative redux that holds true to the original vision while ironing out the kinks of the first attempt. This return to Coaldale is not just a journey back in time; it's a correction course set with the precision of a well-aimed fastball.

Book preview

Demigods and Debacles

The Rise of Cyrus

––––––––

R William Penne

Copyright 2024

Contents

The Unlikely Hero

The Call to Adventure

The Reluctant Demigod

Gathering Allies

The Quest Begins

Trials and Errors

Facing Fears

The Nymph’s Favor

Satyr Shenanigans

Into the Depths

The Unexpected Ally

The City of Myths

Into the Underworld

The Failed Assault

Return to the Underworld

The Demigods Assemble

Into the Fray

Clash with Hades

Clash of Titans

Aftermath and Antics

The Road to Olympus

The Unlikely Hero

Let me lay it out for you: my name is Cyrus, and I’m the son of Poseidon. Yeah, that Poseidon. God of the sea, earthquakes, and everything wet and wavy. You’d think this would make me some kind of legendary hero, right? Wrong. I'm a 22-year-old stoner who can’t swim, lives in his mom’s basement, and avoids anything resembling responsibility like it’s got the plague. Welcome to my epic, mundane existence.

A while back, a brother demigod showed up at my door, all serious and brooding, trying to rope me into some heroic quest. I took one look at his chiseled jawline, perfect hair, and shining armor and thought, Nope. I shut the door, went back to my beanbag chair, and resumed my Mario Kart session. That guy had pain-in-the-ass adventure written all over him, and I wanted nothing to do with it. He could save the world on his own time.

So, who is Poseidon anyway? Imagine a middle-aged beach bum with a steroid habit. He’s got this wild, salt-and-pepper hair that looks like it’s constantly being tousled by an ocean breeze, and a beard that probably has its own zip code. He’s ripped, perpetually tan, and walks around shirtless like he’s allergic to clothing. And, oh, he’s a god, so there’s that.

Mom, bless her, hooked up with Poseidon during a wild spring break in Daytona Beach. She always said it was a night of magic and margaritas. I’m pretty sure that’s code for I was blackout drunk and made some questionable decisions. Poseidon showed up, flexed his divine abs, and the next thing you know, I’m born. A few years later, when it became clear that I had inherited absolutely none of his aquatic prowess, she confessed the whole sordid tale. It’s not every day you find out you’re the product of divine drunk dialing.

Here’s the kicker: I can’t swim. I mean, not even a little bit. I sink like a stone every time I try. You’d think being the son of the sea god would come with some basic water skills, right? Nope. It’s like Zeus having a kid who’s afraid of heights or Hades fathering a kid who’s afraid of the dark. It’s just plain ridiculous.

So, a typical day in my life goes something like this: I roll out of bed around noon, stumble through the mess that is my room, and head upstairs to forage for food. Mom’s at work, so it’s me, a box of Pop-Tarts, and whatever soda is left in the fridge. Breakfast of champions.

Then it’s back to the basement, my personal lair. I fire up my gaming console and lose myself in virtual worlds where I’m actually good at something. I’m a legend in the gaming community. Call of Duty, Fortnite, those weird Japanese dating sims—I'm top-tier in all of them. It’s the only place where I feel like I matter.

Sam, my best friend, shows up around three most days. We’ve known each other since high school, and he’s as aimless as I am. He’s got this shaggy hair, perpetually sunburned skin, and a wardrobe that screams I don’t give a fuck. He’s always trying to get me to do more with my life. It’s a running joke between us. He’s like the Jiminy Cricket to my Pinocchio, only with more swearing and less singing.

Cyrus, man, you gotta get your shit together, Sam said one afternoon, flopping down on the beanbag next to me. You’re the son of a god, for fuck’s sake. You should be out there slaying monsters, not just noobs in Fortnite.

I took a hit from my joint and exhaled slowly. Dude, I’m perfectly happy right here. Why would I want to go slay anything when I can stay in my cozy basement and kick ass online?

Because you’re wasting your potential, man. You could be legendary. Instead, you’re just... lazy. He grabbed a controller and started a game, not missing a beat.

Sam had a point, but I wasn’t about to admit it. I was comfortable in my rut. Life was simple. I didn’t have to think about prophecies or quests or any of that other heroic crap. I just had to keep leveling up my characters and avoiding Mom’s occasional nagging about finding a job.

You know, I said, trying to change the subject, I heard Poseidon once turned a guy into a dolphin just because he pissed him off.

Sam snorted. That’s the kind of power you should be harnessing, dude. Imagine what you could do if you actually tried.

I’d probably just turn people into dolphins for cutting me off in traffic, I said, laughing. Not exactly hero material.

The truth was, I didn’t want the responsibility. Being a hero meant dealing with shit I had no interest in: danger, decisions, and, worst of all, people. I preferred my solitary, digital kingdom where I was in control. The thought of stepping outside that comfort zone was terrifying.

But Sam wouldn’t let it go. He kept pushing, kept trying to get me to see that I was capable of more. It was annoying as hell, but deep down, I appreciated it. Without him, I’d probably turn into a basement-dwelling troll.

Remember that time a demigod showed up at your door? Sam said, breaking the silence. What was his name again?

Apollo something, I mumbled. He was all ‘We need you, Cyrus’ and ‘The fate of the world is at stake.’ Total buzzkill.

Yeah, and you slammed the door in his face. Classic.

He was too shiny, I said defensively. Nobody that perfect can be trusted.

Sam shook his head, laughing. You’re hopeless, man. But I’m not giving up on you. One day, you’re gonna realize your potential, and when you do, I’ll be there to say ‘I told you so.’

I rolled my eyes and reached for the joint again. Yeah, yeah. Dream on, buddy.

But even as I laughed it off, a small part of me wondered if he was right. Maybe I was meant for something more. Maybe there was a reason I had these stupid divine genes. Or maybe it was just the weed talking.

Either way, it was going to take a hell of a lot more than a pep talk from