The Epic of Antares

He had been in a terrible mood ever since his return to Akkad. The numerous questions he was bombarded with about his possible marriage had filled him first with confusion and then anger upon the realization of what the Queen of the Nephilim had done while he was away. But there was no time for him to react. For now he stood in the center of several great mirrors as they broke and reformed, chastising him about a decision that he had not yet made. Antares stood quiet as the elders continued to lament such a great issue. He knew how sensitive they were and by extension all of Iliad would be when it came for him to choose a queen. It was why he had tried so long to leave the matter alone. He could not afford another internal conflict amongst his people just because they sought to give him a partner. A seat next to him was far more coveted than most crowns and as such a worthy candidate needed to be someone who could satisfy the demand that came with being the Queen of Iliad, and far more importantly, the Queen of the Stygians.

But Enrieta Zxyphor had looked to rob him of that choice. He was unsure of how she had done it. Of how she had managed to get an interloper to breach the walls of not only Akkad but of the noble court; of Agincourt. But right now that did not matter. They would never be able to do it again, even the Queen of the Nephilim would be aware of that. But they would not need to. The damage had already been done. Antares was left with two choices. But Enrieta once again, had made the decision for him.

"Are these the actions befitting a ruler?" the voice cut sharp across his cheek.

"A human?" one of the mirrors asked, the disdain apparent in its voice.

"A human witch at that," followed suit a mirror to his left. "What madness takes you?"

There it was. Witch. That was the real crux of their issue. It was not that Reza was human, in fact he knew that had little to do with it. What they dreaded was that she was the daughter of a witch. Of a Black Witch at that. One of the few beings in all of existence that could stand up to their games. He understood their fears. Witches were parasites, they infected all that they touched. There were far too many tales of them being discovered in remote villages where all the inhabitants had lost their minds or were enchanted, unaware of the plight they found themselves in. More often that most people would ever believe, the witches themselves had no idea they were the cause of it. But it changed nothing all the same. And Antares had slayed enough witches in his youth to know the danger they posed. Now Enrieta looked to force him to marry one.

To allow a witch access to the throne of Iliad, to Stygians, to the soul realm of their ancestors. Was to allow destruction to take root. But Reza was no ordinary witch. The very fact that they feared her being the daughter of a Black Witch was the very reason why Antares was not entirely against the idea of a marriage to her. He knew that Tereza Altieri would never have allowed her daughter to grow up without the utmost control of her magic. She would never allow such danger to befall her. And to accept a potential marriage between them both, between a witch and a Stygian of all things. Antares knew Tereza had to be sure of Reza's level of control. But still Antares understood the danger of such a union.

"You parle with the Queen of the Pale Ones without notifying us. And now we find out from Lords Grygor and Aias that you have agreed to a marriage with a witch?" the calmness of the voice upset Antares. "Would you fault an observer to look upon your actions as unworthy of being king?"

"Where was this involvement from you all over the last five years?" Antares asked. The venom in his words building. "When Lords Omiros and Aldios ruled along with my brother? As my father slowly died."

"Excuse me?" The mirror concealed their face but not the shock in their words.

"Better yet, the century my father sealed off Iliad from the rest of Aurum. Did you speak to him at any point in such a manner?" he allowed his words to hang in the air, "Do you think I am supposed to stand here, and listen to you all doubt me, a Lord of War. Your king—as my actions are unworthy of the throne? In our long and storied history. I am one of five to hold the title of Lord of War and king simultaneously."

The King of the Stygians had grown tired of their fears being projected on to him. He was above such things.

"I am not Hyperion. I know that is who you all wish me to be. I will never claim to be him. But until he returns, I am all you have. What have you asked from me have I not done? Tell me? Where have I failed you? When the convent of witches held the village of Zamir for ransom? Did I not deliver? When my uncles, twin Storm Lords of the Storm Islands refused your decree, did I not fell them? When Nykolas…" Antares stopped himself. He knew it was pointless to take it there. There was no need to berate the elders as they did him.

Silence filled the room for a moment. Allowing the King of the Stygians to regain his composure, the elders did not speak. Instead choosing to deliberate in silence. Antares had grown tired of their insistence to know every detail of his actions. Something he knew they did because they did not trust him. What happened with Nykolas was more than enough to further waiver their belief in the Lords of War. But not even they would dare say such a thing out loud. For the future that Antares wanted to create, he needed to be unshackled from their influence. To carve the path forward he first needed to walk it.

"Why?" a voice asked from behind him. The authority in it was far greater than any of the elders that spoke before. "Why her?"

Antares thought about his answer, he was at a crossroads. He knew the gravity of what he would say next would change everything. But this is what he sought when he assumed the crown. Perhaps he did not arrive here by his own means. But maybe this was the so-called fate that his people so desperately clung to in replacement of the Gods. No, what brought him here was not fate. But it did not matter what it was. There was only one choice he could make.

"I chose her because she can help me achieve our goals." He lied with such grace.

"You plan to use her to attain the grimoires?" the authoritative voice behind him asked.

"Yes, she is nothing more than a tool. She opens a path to collect the rest of the grimoires without bloodshed."

"If such a thing is possible." Retorted one of the mirrors around him.

"I see…" Antares could hear the disappointment in the authoritative elders' voice. "And do you think Nero can be trusted?"
"No," he answered honestly.

"Then why do you head south?"

"To show them that Iliad no longer sleeps. That the Stygians are ready to guide Aurum once more."

There was chatter amongst the mirrors, a thousand words said in a matter of seconds.

"You have left us with much to discuss, perhaps the path you walk is one carved out by the ancestors. We see no reason to stop you from walking it for now. We will convene with the ancestors to see if they share any insight on what is to come."

Antares nodded his head softly and bowed half way. One by one the mirrors began to dissolve into the darkness, each one turning into a person as they disappeared. All but the one behind him remained. The King did not turn to face it.

"I apologize young king. You have been judged too harshly here, but you cannot blame us for our concerns." The words were heavy on his shoulders. "But I will leave you with this; the path you walk is a dangerous one. Allowing that little witch into our ways is not something that will be accepted by all. And it will take time for us to deem her worthy, if we ever do. Know this as you head south. You may walk there alone, but you will return with a wife, not a tool. And there are many trials and tribulations that come with that. I do not have to tell you what they are."

And with that the last elder left Antares alone with the thoughts of his dead mother swimming through his mind. Even now still, he could feel the wetness of her blood on his hands. And the look of assuredness his mother bravely tried to put on. But his Akashic eyes never could hide the truth from him. The fear she felt, the fear he saw within her. He was weak then, but not anymore. Now he had strength. He had power.

The conversation that followed with his king's council was far more tempered. After the initial shock of the sudden announcement of his possible marriage with Princess Reza Altieri had worn off. The three winter birds moved to analyze what such a union would mean for Iliad. Each of them struggled to find fault in what Emperor Nero offered in exchange for marriage. Hightower was a hotly contested issue that many Stygians and humans within Iliad had grown tired of. They saw the wayward merchant city as nothing but a blight upon Aurum and a reminder of darker times. As much as they had said they were neutral. Many knew that to only be a false claim to appease the Stygian elders who cared little of what happened beyond their ancestral home. General Guinevere's stalled retaking of the city had done nothing but further sour moods across the nobility that inhabited Iliad. Much money and men had been spent and the returns were not nearly enough.

But here Nero came with a solution; to wash away centuries worth of blood and inconvenience with money but most importantly marriage. The union of Antares and Reza would usher in an a continued age of peace the likes of which had not been seen in well over ten thousand years. The north and the south had been at odds for too long. All thought this would change when Barranagan and Nero assumed their respective crowns but that was not the case. Many would see this as Nero extending a branch of kindness, a sort of apology for all that had been said about the later monarch of the north.

The winter birds further stressed to their king that his speech on the night before his coronation about reuniting the grimoires had done well to spur his people to hope again. And there were many who saw this marriage as him staying true to his words. The people of Iliad expected bloodshed. They knew it would come, undertaking such an endeavor. But they were also aware that if there was perhaps another way, it should at the very least be explored. The stability that Antares had brought barely a month into his reign had calmed much of Iliad. And his winter birds were quick to stress that. The nobles had spoken, Agincourt had spoken and they supported this union.

But all Antares did was listen. Rarely giving his input. It unnerved his council how little he spoke on the matter but they knew better than to pry. It was no secret that prior to this proposal that another was once promised to him. In fact they had done their best to never mention her name in his presence, certainly now more than ever. But they could not help but feel his reaction was human. And for that they could not fault him. He carried himself with grace even in such times. The birds knew it would take time for their king to accept the reality of the situation, but he would accept it nevertheless. And so with that, after much deliberation, in the council room of the king's council room. It was agreed that the marriage would progress. The three winter birds looked to focus on joy that would come and the peace that would follow. But it would take some time for their king to see it too. Soon after their conversation, they began to make their way. They would look to share the news with Agincourt and from there the news would spread like wildfire throughout Iliad and eventually Aurum. Antares' journey south would come to be known as a holy one. That was the reverence and might that was reserved for one who wore the crown of the Stygians. But first they would have to prepare for such an undertaking. As they exchanged the last of their pleasantries. The three winter birds left the council room. Where now only Antares and Casspien remained.

"I dislike when you get quiet like that." Casspien handed Antares a glass of wine.

The young monarch studied his reflection in the red liquid. "I could say the same about you."

The Lord Regent sat across from one of his greatest friends and sipped his wine. He looked over the papers on the table. "It is a good offer."

"A generous one at that." Antares corrected. "But…"

"But… As everyone focuses on all the money and the wedding. I would be remiss to not point out that if any harm were to befall Reza in your care, so much as a drop of blood. We would have war with nearly every realm at our doorstep."

Antares let out a dry laugh, "The elders said the same thing. Not as direct of course." He expected nothing less from his Lord Regent.

"Three of her siblings are monarchs Antares. Her father is the emperor and her mother is a Black Witch. This borders on recklessness. Even for us."

Casspien spoke the truth. Under all the pleasantness of the marriage proposal and what it would mean for Iliad and Aurum. There was an underlying danger that many overlooked. Reza Altieri was perhaps the most dangerous being Aurum had seen since Barranagan Xerxes. Her value exceeded what many could possibly understand. Three of her siblings held the crown to powerful kingdoms. Kingdoms who had long since warred with the Stygians in one way or another. Her mother was the famed Black Witch who along with two other heroes defeated the mad emperor over a century ago. And her father was the very emperor who succeeded him. For any harm to come to her it would mean facing the entire might of most of the southern realms. It would mean all out war the likes that had not been seen since the Second Great War. But unlike the second great war that saw war between the north and the south. This one threatened to be far more one sided.

"Are we really that alone?" Antares was unsure if he wanted to know the truth.

Casspien studied the expression of his king, the softness of his features. He nearly cursed the ancestors for thrusting his friend into such a rule. "Avalon has long since grown independent of us. Yes they are our allies and yes they are beholden to us by many rites, but they value justice and honor above all. Make no mistake if King Arturious were to believe foul play, he would not hesitate to side with the south. Ichika will always stand with us, with King Satori as their monarch. They too are honor bound, but fortunately to us."

The Lord Regent rose, and paced around the room. "As for Laconia… They may choose not to fight but you can make them. King Dion will fight for us. The Pact of Servitude demands it."

"So should I reject this offer then, Lord Regent?" The King of the Stygians asked.

"You can not," responded the Lord Regent. "Or rather, if you do. You will be known as the king who refused. And whatever came next, be it your desire for the grimoires, or even if it had nothing to do with them. All would look to you to blame for the blood that would be spilt."

The analysis was accurate Antares thought, it was the same conclusion he had come to when he spoke to the elders. All his paths had so quickly converged on this little human witch. And whatever it was he desired he would need her to achieve it. Despite his reservations this was the objective truth that he was faced with. He would wed Princess Reza Altieri and he would do everything to protect her from those within who opposed in the shadows and from those without who sought to disrupt his plans. But it all began with him heading south.

"But all of that does not interest me right now." Casspien concluded, turning back to face Antares.

The King of Iliad raised an eyebrow, "And what does? What could possibly be more important?"

"How you feel about seeing Faye again."

Antares picked at the large brown table. What waited for him south was not only his future bride, but his past bride-to-be. Images of golden waves flashed across his mind, a smile like the brightest lightning and eyes filled with the wildest storms. Not once in the five years since his exile had he stopped thinking about her. Not when he drowned himself in drink and ancient herbs. Not when he entered the underground street fights of Kish. There were stretches when the drink would push the memory of her far away from his thoughts. But they would return like waves against jagged sea rock. His apprehension to head south was governed by seeing her again. Seeing her belong to another that was not him. He was unsure if he could handle it. To look into her eyes and see what he lost. To see who he lost. But he needed to go.

"I feel nothing, it has been five years. She belongs to Saturn Blackrose now." The words hurt him to say.

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"You and I both know Faye belongs to no one. But I understand what you mean. We can leave it at that." Casspien offered.

"Thank you."

"Besides when you do feel like talking about it, perhaps I will share mine and Typhon's plan to rescue her and return her home." Casspien offered a rare smile.

"By the ancestors please tell Typhon suggested more than just fighting our way in and out." Antares began to laugh.

"I will have you know, that was my idea." Began Casspien, "Typhon at least wanted to give them the opportunity to hand her over."

They laughed like that for some time. And just for a moment they were taken back over a decade, to a time when all that mattered to them was each other and what the day would bring. But as such was life. These moments were few and fleeting. The large commotion outside the council room lowered their laughter and soon after an angry Daimion Xerxes burst through the door. With a shaken Cirella in tow.

"You bastard!" Daimion roared as he grabbed Antares by the collar of his shirt. "How dare yo-"

"Lord Regent, sheath your blade." Antares commanded Casspien.

In his rage Daimion foolishly approached his king, unaware the second he put his hands on brother. Casspien had conjured a blade made of solid ice that now drew drops of blood near Daimions neck. The Young prince froze when he realised what was happening. He tried to swallow but the tip of Casspien's blade would not allow him. Pressing into his neck.

"Casspien," Antares commanded again, softer.

The Lord Regent did not move his eyes off Daimion. But as he relaxed his grip around the ice blade, it dissolved and disappeared immediately.

"Take. Three. Steps. Back." The force of Casspien's Kngspeak made Daimion move before he could even decide to comply. The better option, for Casspien, was unsure if the young prince had deliberated any longer, if he could stop himself from relieving him of his head.

Antares waved away the guards who nervously guarded the door. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Daimion?" he then fixed his ruffled collar.

"How dare y-" The wayward prince caught himself as he glanced over at an unimpressed Casspien. Instead he chose to smartly pick his words. "First you threaten my wife. Then give her hope just to snatch it away? Do you have no honor?"

Antares looked past his younger brother to Cirella, who looked far too embarrassed to say anything. But forced herself under incredible strain to say something.

"F-forgive us my king, Lord Regent. My husband seems to be mis-" began the princess,

"Mistaken?" Daimion turned to look at his wife. "There is no need to cower before him, Ciri. As I have told you, you cannot trust him. He seeks to use us all. We have heard about your engagement to a human, a human witch no less."

Antares rubbed his forehead, and it took great restraint not for him to lash out. "And here I thought you were coming to congratulate me. No, unfortunately I was not blessed with such a brother." Whispering the second half of that to himself. "This marriage does nothing to endanger the offer that I made to you. An offer that I remind you, many including my council and elders strongly refused, given what you have done."

He shot Cirella a cold look. One she looked away from, unable to bear.

"And I am supposed to believe from the kindness of your heart, you decided that Samara would be your heir? Just like that? Just as you said, after everything I have done?"

Antares leaned forward, putting his hands together. "Why do you fight me on this brother? I am offering you a way out."

"Daimion…" Cirella tried to coax her husband.

He shook her off, he would not fall in line. Not like the others, without knowing the real truth. "Tell us the truth. Why her?"

"Do you truly wish to know?" Antares asked Cirella.

He could see it in her eyes, the doubt, the fear. And yet, she slowly nodded her head. The curiosity surfacing all the same.

He quickly exchanged a glance with Casspien who nodded in approval. "I chose her because I know Samara is a Spiritwalker. And when the rest of Iliad finds out, be it the Nightsisters or the elders or the Lords of War. They would think twice because I believe it is far harder to justify killing the ward and heir of the king than his niece."

Daimion struggled to find his voice, "H-How, W-what right do you have to make such accusations-"

"How long have you known?" Cirella's question silenced Daimion in an instant.

The young mother had a look of sadness on her face. One that somehow softened the rage that was building within Antares. He recalled the conversation they had nights ago. The desperation in her voice and desire for protection of her children. He had always known why she was so fiercely guarded of them, even more so than most mothers were. But out of perhaps respect or a sense of privacy he never once questioned it. But the truth is he had always known, from the first time he held a newborn Samara in his hands. From the moment his Akashic eyes gazed into her, into her true nature and soul he knew what she was. The curse that burrowed itself into her.

He knew what awaited his little niece was not an easy life, if she was even given the opportunity to live after such a discovery. So instead, he said nothing. It was the only gift he could give his younger brother and his wife at the time. Silence, one now all these years later. His brother foolishly broke out of insecurity.

"From the brief moment I was permitted to hold her in my hands."Antares looked at them, remembering how fragile Samara was. A reminiscent smile crept across his face.

He has always cared. Cirella thought. A wave of shame washed over her. Antares had always truly cared about them. Even when they despised him, he still cared. Since the night they last spoke, she had not managed to sleep. Something she was used to but the gravity of the reason behind it was unfamiliar. Not knowing if she could truly trust his words for he never did give her a reason. But now she felt foolish. For why must a reason be given to protect one's family? That is how Antares had seen them. And nearly at every turn her and her husband had turned their nose at him. They had continued to push him away. How long had it been last since Antares held Samara? Loukas? When was the last time he spoke to them? She and her husband were pushing away the only man who was trying to save them. The only one who cared.

"Yes, my answer is yes." Cirella blurted out. "I accept your offer."

"Ciri wait," began Daimion.

Antares rose, startling them both. "Casspien will handle things from here. It seems my mood has soured." The king made his way towards the door. "Daimion, a word of advice from your big brother. I suggest you show your Lord Regent better restraint. He may not show it but Casspien has a terrible temper." With that Antares made his way.

As he reached the door, Cirella called out to him. "Thank you for your mercy, King Antares." She bowed low, even surprising Antares a little. The king acknowledged it but did not say a word.

Antares left the room and the guards outside stood ready. He could feel the nervousness that they carried and he calmed them down with words of encouragement. His apology nearly made them collapse in shock. For the King of the Stygians to not only address them, but with an apology as well was unprecedented. He mused on their reaction and made his way down the hallway of castle Xerxes lost in thought. It came to his notice that most of his time as king was spent being berated and he wondered if this is what it meant to be king. A childish thought from his youth surfaced. He thought he would have far more free time to do as he liked, but most of his time since assuming the crown was spent dealing with a realm that teetered on the brink of uncertainty. There was still so much to do. As he walked through the hallways he could not help but gaze at the many portraits of various rulers that had all come before him. He wondered if any of them had faced anything like he was dealing with right now. And he also thought of how they would have handled it. Lately Antares was starting to doubt himself. A familiar uneasiness that troubled his soul seemed to grow in disruption. He wondered if his lack of training was stiffening his resolve. And then his thoughts went to Cyrus.

"C-Congratulations my king!" a soft voice blurted out in front of him.

"Ah, Maria. What a pleasant surprise." Antares was so lost in thought he had not realised she stood before him. He looked down to see Maria's face a bright red. "What are you congratulating me about?"

"T-The wedding." She blushed as she uttered the words.

Antares was slightly taken aback, he had been so focused on the dangers of the marriage proposal that not once did he take a moment to acknowledge what was meant to be a joyous occasion. Maria had been the first one to truly congratulate him. He smiled. "Oh that, thank you." He let out a half hazard laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"A marriage to a princess is something to be happy about." The young girl dug her foot into the marble floor. Although she did her best to hide her jealousy, her puffed up cheeks gave her away. "I know that she is excited."

Of course Antares could see it, and wished to tease her a little. "Is that so?" He leaned in closer, "And tell me would you be excited if you were in her position?"

Maria turned a shade of bright red, Antares did not know humans were capable of looking. His laugh echoed through the hall.

"Yes! Absolutely! You're the best!" blurted out the young girl, much to her own shock at the candidness she conversed with the King of Iliad. "It would be every girl's dream."

"And is that your dream?" Antares asked.

The question was far too great for the young girl to handle. Her mind could not possibly cope with the idea of telling him how she felt. The embarrassment would be far too great. Instead Maria chose to speak in half truths.

"I dream of marrying someone half as good as you." She could not bring herself to look at him, instead looking at the floor.

Antares placed a hand on her messy blond hair and ruffled it. The action relaxed her. "Aim higher little one, I know you will find someone greater than me." He chuckled and she looked up to meet his eyes.

Such warmness radiated from him that she was unsure if he was not the very personification of the sun itself. It had been so long since she last saw him that she wondered if their paths would ever cross again. She could not help but scold herself a little for thinking she would be granted such a right. But still she held out hope and once again through the winding halls of castle Xerxes. Once again little Maria met her king. And she was grateful for it. Now she could ask him the question that she should have all that time ago.

"King Antares," she began.

"There you are!" The voice came from a boy barrelling down the hallway.

They both turned to look at who would be so casual with the King of the Stygians.

"I've been looking for you everywhere!" Cyrus blared with cake still on the corner of his lips. "When are you going to train me? And I hear you're getting married? Why didn't you tell me? I thought you said you weren't getting mar-"

Antares flicked, Cyrus' forehead and the boy recoiled in great pain. "I see you have gotten comfortable here. Introduce yourself to the young lady."

Cyrus soothed his stinging forehead, he looked over to see the young servant girl next to Antares. She was nearly his height. Her blue ocean eyes sparkled with life and curiosity. They were nearly too big to fit in her eyes but he still found himself drawn to them. The freckles that dotted across her face reminded him of the ones on his and her unkempt blonde hair were like the silk curtains that covered so many halls throughout the castle. Cyrus could scarcely stop looking at her. Antares smiled a mischievous smile.

"My name is Cyrus M'lady." The young boy remembered the lessons Lady Alena had been teaching him, and bowed properly. "Nice to meet you."

"M'lady?" Antares repeated with a foxy grin.

"M-M'lady?" Maria blushed a deep red. And remembered her own manners. "Oh please, Maria is just fine Lord Cyrus. It is nice to meet you too.

Cyrus perked up. "Lord Cyrus…" He repeated to himself

"Do not call him that." Antares quickly corrected the young girl. "I am still teaching him manners. He is far from a lord."

'Hey!" Blushed Cyrus "I'm not that far away."

Maria could not help but laugh at the reaction of the boy. She had heard conversation throughout the castle of the king taking in a Stygian boy from the street. There was much talk about who he was and his relation to the king. Opinions ranged from possibly being his long lost brother, to perhaps an unclaimed son. Maria had hoped the latter was untrue. Although she was not entirely sure why. But now seeing the boy that all servants gossiped so intensely about. Turning out to be just an ordinary boy like her filled her with more questions than answers. But she knew better than to pry.

"Forgive us Maria, but I must deal with my wayward son." Antares bowed.

"Son?" a shocked sound escaped her lips.

"I am not your son!" grumbled Cyrus.

Antares rolled his eyes and pushed Cyrus ahead. They all exchanged their goodbyes and went on their way. As she watched them walk off, she could see Cyrus turning around to catch glances at her and what looked like the king mocking him for it. She had found the boy strange, but even stranger still how familiar he was with the king. But nevertheless it was pleasant to see. And she was glad to once again speak with him, even if it was only briefly. And so as they rounded the corner, she turned to carry on with her duties. She was nearly done for the day and looked forward to going home.

Through many half questions about Maria. Antares had dragged Cyrus to one of the many balconies that covered castle Xerxes. The coolness of the afternoon air was an unexpected delight. Much of the day the king had spent it indoors. But the reprieve of the cold days' breezes seemed to revitalize him. He looked out onto the city below and it was as lively as ever. Even now he knew the news of his marriage would be spreading throughout the common people below. No doubt soon again Akkad would be bustling preparing for another celebration. It was a rare thing, but Antares was happy that there had been so many festivities lately. No doubt the one for his wedding would look to be far greater than the one for his coronation. The sheer size of the people who would come slightly intimidated the young monarch.

"What are we doing here?" Cyrus asked, leaning against the guard rail.

"Taking in the view," Antares answered. "You are an artist are you not? This is the sort of thing you people like, yes?"

Cyrus huffed, "Not all artists are alike."

Antares acknowledged the point.

"So are you going to teach me how to fight or not?"

"Well I was waiting for your wounds to heal." Antares looked over the boy. The other reason is that he wanted to see the boys Will stabilize after such a traumatic birth.

Cyrus perked up, "I'm good to go. Lady Alena and Princess Cirella said I looked much better." He attempted to flex his muscles.

"And how are your lessons with them and the younger ones?"

"Really good, I'm learning a lot everyday, I'm starting to understand the old tongue a little . Lady Alena says, I'm a quick learner. And Samara and Loukas are helping me."

Antares watched as Cyrus spoke about his lessons. It was the first time since he had met Cyrus that he saw the boy so relaxed. The ease with which he spoke and articulated himself was nothing compared to how he was when he first saw him. It had taken some time but Cyrus finally started to look like a boy again. Antares wanted that to stay the same.

"You know..." the King trailed, "Things can remain like this. You can continue with your studies with Lady Alena and the children and Cirella too. I can see how much you have grown fond of them and them of you."

Cyrus blushed, his usually ecstatic demeanor had cooled off. "It is fun learning about stuff and Stygian history. Especially with everyone. Even if Princess Cirella teases me about it." The boy was looking for the right words, "But my dad wanted me to be strong. And I still want to be strong too."

"That is all that drives you? Just keeping a promise?"

Cyrus hesitated, "Yeah. For now, yeah."

There was a long pause between them. There was more to it but the king was not one to pry, especially as the boy was still trying to understand himself. Moments later, Antares sighed loud enough to startle Cyrus.

"Very well," the King of Iliad leaned against the balcony as well. "The first part of your training will take place in a few days' time when we journey south."

Cyrus smiled widened incredibly fast.

"Do not be quick to look so happy. If you fail, that will be it. I will not train you."

The realisation slowly wiped the smile off Cyrus' face but soon it was replaced with a look of determination that Antares had come to associate with the boy in the little time that he had known him.

"Hey Antares?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Antares ruffled his hair, "So you are learning manners huh? Maybe you really could be a lord one day. Maybe we should ask Maria what she thinks."

Antares teased Cyrus like that for a while, but the boy did not complain. He was still learning a great many things, and a great many words. He was slightly upset with himself that after all that Antares had done, he could only offer such simple gratification. But he knew this was only the beginning. He would pay Antares back, for everything he had done to help him. And so much more. Cyrus did not think he would ever be able to laugh again like he had over the last several days. This scary castle he once arrived at seemed so much warmer now. As they looked out into the living city for a while, another smile slowly creeped across the young boy's face. He is right, he thought. Cyrus very much liked the view of the city from where they now rested.