The Epic of Antares

It had been a three day journey to reach Eirdu. The pleasantness of the trip was a welcomed change of pace that Antares appreciated. It allowed him for some time to view it as a lovely excursion to see the hillsides of Iliad. The lush green plains of his lands reminded him of the beauty that was held within his home. A beauty that he saw as his duty to preserve no matter the cost. His trek to Talterra was in many ways to honor that oath. But as the journey south descended them from the highlands of Akkad, their once lush hills and green grass, gradually were replaced with great trees and thick foliage. And a slow fog crept in.

Iliad was a naturally cool realm, the coolest of all the others in fact. During the summertime, this meant that its mornings were often covered in deep fog. Of all her cities, it was Eirdu that suffered most from this thick near impenetrable fog. Its location lay well below where Akkad stood, so the fog was far stronger here. Antares peered outside, and all he could see was the mere outline of trees through the haze. He turned to look at Cyrus who was in a deep sleep, clutching his drawings. The journey had been filled with Antares explaining everything he saw, and the boy frantically trying to scribble it down. The king's expression soured a bit. Truthfully he did not want to bring Cyrus, for he did not want him to partake in the trials he had set for him. Antares peered into the boy's soul and nature, he had long since realized that Cyrus was no real fighter. This was a kind boy who should have spent his days becoming an artisan. However the king could never truly bring himself to stop the boy's desire for strength. He would not rob him of the choice to gain power. Not as the decision was done to him. Where Cyrus' Will was strong, Antares waved.

"The king approaches!" a voice bellowed.

Cyrus sprang up out of sleep, "Are we here?" his speech was groggy and slurred.

King Antares nodded.

The boy moved to the window expecting to see a sprawling city that rivaled Akkad, instead he was greeted with thick fog. He peered out into it trying to discern anything of note, but there was nothing he could identify. He could scarcely see the man who pulled their carriage; of the horses, all he could make out was their rhythmic trots across the gravel road. And then he heard it. Better yet, he felt it. Deep within his bones, down to the core of his being. The only way he could describe it was the roar of a dreadful beast. Of a beast far too great to exist. He felt the very air vibrate at the sound of it. Cyrus gripped the edges of the window, steadying himself.

"The first time you hear it is always the worst." Antares added with a sly smile.

Cyrus could only nod, as he breathed heavily. He wiped tears from his eyes and looked back into the fog. Suddenly he saw a flame floating ahead of them. The closer they came to it, the higher it rose. Cyrus could finally make out what it was, an open flame atop a great statue. Immediately he could tell the statue was that of a Stygian. Its skin made of solid bronze reacted well against the fire, it almost seemed to glow. And the features of the statue told him that the person it was sculpted after was beautiful, like the rest of his kind. The hands that crafted this magnificent being were human. There was a familiarity within the workmanship that the boy was able to observe. Something he had seen before, at the Church of Multitude.

"This city is as old as the Church isn't it?" Cyrus asked, still studying the statue.

"Older," the king was impressed by his wards' eye for detail.

Before Cyrus could further study the statue, another fire was lit. It revealed another Stygian sculpture. And so on it went, each flame revealing an ancestor that once travelled the same road they did. The more the flames lit up, the larger they grew. Now more of the city's entrance could be seen. Stone walls as high as those found in Akkad started to show clearly. A large mass moved and swayed in the distance, Cyrus believed it to be perhaps the great beast that made such a terrible sound. It was soon revealed to be a large crowd that had gathered. From as far away as they were he could see their smiling faces and jovial cheers. They welcomed them with a kind of fervor he thought he would only see in Akkad.

Eirdu was bursting with life. It was only the early morning but hundreds of thousands gathered all to watch as the King of Iliad journeyed to their city. So many had assembled here from across southern Iliad. Hearing that their king would travel south, and his crossing would take him through the old city. In many ways the journey alone had been an opportunity to embark on a sacred pilgrimage. No doubt like those who had undertaken the same quest during King Antares' crowning ceremony, or his father's death funeral. To simply glimpse at his visage would be enough for any. But to be this close, to watch as his carriage was pulled through these ancient streets. It was the most divine of moments for many.

Unlike Akkad, Eirdu had much larger structures. The signs of the old ways were rampant through the design of the city. Large open areas and buildings connected at different points. The gravel way was littered with merchants selling wares of all kinds. But unlike Akkad where the merchant huts were small and tiny. These were more extravagant, larger. A show of wealth. Iliad's wealthiest city did not disappoint in their first introduction to their new king. Women danced, men sang. Children laughed. Money was thrown for any to grab. The smell of lavender filled the air.

"All of this, for you?" Cyrus could scarcely believe it.

Antares shrugged, "It has been a very long time since the king has travelled this far south."

Cyrus slowly bobbed his head, his perception of how important Antares was grew by leaps and bounds. But there was no time to dwell on that. For the impossibly large building that stood before caught his attention. He had thought Castle Xerxes as being large with its obsidian walls. But this structure in front of him, which seemed to be more than a mere castle-was a palace. He had read the word before in one of his fathers many books. Regardless his imagination never could create anything close to what he saw before him. High walls climbed over trees, the white stone offered great contrast to the green leaves of the surrounding nature. Towering stone watchtowers sprang out of the ground, resembling their obsidian counterparts of Castle Xerxes. Cyrus could see smaller angular structures, no doubt belonging to nobles who lived there. Their homes were grand in their own right. However none of them compared to the building that sat above them all. It was made of a brilliant stone, the main castle where the lord would reside, stood proud with purple banners flapping in the wind. On the left banner a great golden embroidered snake, one he knew to represent house Xerxes. The right banner carried a skull with what seemed to be golden coins pouring out of its mouth. Around it slithered a violent snake that threatened to attack any that would approach. Cyrus knew whoever this palace belonged to was a fearsome man. Even from as far away as he was, he knew the man who lived atop there commanded the authority of all in the land. He was anxious to meet him.

It took some time but the carriage made its way towards the palace. The further they were removed from the city the quieter it was. Antares had enjoyed the reception but he was quick to seek the comfort of silence once more. Eirdu was unfamiliar to him in many ways. The little he remembered from the time he spent here in his youth was muddied by how much had changed. In a mere five years, Xenon had transformed the city from a sleepy hollow, to a thriving community of merchants. Antares struggled with the passage of time, even so he would have to come to grips with it. This city showed him how much his exile took from him. In his lifespan the last five years would be less than a grain of sand in the hourglass of time. But the grains of that passage still felt raw against the open wound in his heart. He wondered of Casspien and what he would think of the change his brother had brought to their home.

The carriage came to a stop at the large open garden of the palace. Smaller statues of great beasts were littered all over, many of them grouped near the ponds like watchful guardians. Those gathered numbered greatly, even Guinevere, Ursula and Melina among them. So too did the owner of the castle.

"You took your fucking time," Xenon bared his fangs at his king.

"I wanted to enjoy the scenery."

Both men grinned and embraced.

"Guinevere, it is good to see you and the others are well." Antares placed a hand on her shoulder and she blushed.

"As is you brother. But excuse me a moment."

Antares raised an eyebrow, and before he could permit her. Guinevere landed a concussive blow across Xenon's face. The force of the attack rippled through the air and everyone gasped in shock.

"I have waited three days to do that," she massaged her fist with a grin. "I will be inside if you need me." She bowed at her king and made her way with Ursula.

"What did you do?" Antares asked.

"Ever since we arrived, he has been pestering Princess Guinevere over her chivalry as a knight." Melina crossed her hands unimpressed by her older brother's childish antics. "He bet her she would prove her weak character by striking him before you arrived."

Xenon grinned, "I almost had her yesterday." He rubbed his chin, thankful their kind were impervious to physical blows. "I could taste the bloodlust."

Antares placed his hand on his hip, "I am surprised the palace is still standing."

"Me too," Casspien joined them.

Melina bowed in respect to her brother, "Lord brother it is good to see you again. I hope the journey was kind."

"It was-" the Lord Regent began before he was cut off.

"Save the pleasantries for later. Let's go inside everyone else is waiting. Too many flies buzzing around." Xenon waved them over purposely bumping into Casspien.

"Just a moment, there is someone I want you to meet." Antares turned as Cyrus took his que to exit the carriage. "I would like to introduce to you my ward Cyrus. This is who I was talking about."

Cyrus shuffled his feet. It was the first time he had seen a Stygian as big as princess Guinevere. Even though he was covered in many colorful robes, he still cut an imposing figure. His multi-colored hair looked like a crown atop his head. The gold rings on his fingers shined just as brightly as the ones Antares and Casspien wore. Even the menacing look he gave was carried by such a handsome face, that was deserving of a man like him. The hairs on the back of Cyrus's neck stood up when their eyes met. A cauldron of red flame and burning violet skies gazed back at him with malice. Cyrus felt small.

"Oh yeah? Yeah, whatever." He paid no mind to the boy, his interest in standing outside had reached its limit.

The large group accompanied them further into the palace. Antares exchanged pleasantries with various noble humans and Stygians that were present. Many of them offered their support of his potential marriage and their condolences for the passing of his father. Meanwhile Cyrus was enamored by the spectacle of Xenon's palace. The open space meant that there was always a calm breeze passing through the area. Marble pillars were expertly placed all through the interior holding the massive structure up. Stairways and corridors led to various other levels and rooms. The palace did not match the interior of castle Xerxes in terms of extravagance. But it did its best to come close. Cyrus was moved by the wealth of a merchant. He was unsure if Xenon was not secretly a king himself.

As they reached deeper into the palace the crowd slowly began to disperse, until it was only Xenon, Antares, Cyrus, Melina and Casspien. They came across a large marble door.

"About time they left," Xenon swung it open.

The interior room was an open space of luxurious design. It served more to be a cozier courtyard than a room that should be within a palace. But such was the design specifications of the first owner of this place. A great centerpiece hung above in the middle of the room. Its candles lit, doing more than being a mere accessory to the beauty of the chamber. Each of the four walls of the room were replaced with translucent curtains that blew in the wind. In the center where most were gathered, was a sunken sitting area, surrounded by a large open flame. Several Stygians had gathered around deep in conversation with drink in their hand. But it was only when the largest of them, a giant of a man noticed the group did they all stop talking amongst themselves.

"Typhon?" Antares called out in shock.

"Brother!" Typhon roared, approaching them. "It is good to see you. It has been so long!" He placed both his hands on Antares shoulders.

"What are you doing here? I did not know you would come?" the king could not hide the grin on his face.

Typhon showed one himself and looked over at Casspien. Antares followed his gaze too.

"It was better I invited him or he would have thrown a tantrum when he found out." Casspien sighed.

"You damn right I would have!" Typhon roared again, his laughter echoed throughout the room. "I would never forgive myself for missing this great announcement in Talterra. Nor any of you!"

"So it really was not a rumor?" a Stygian rose up approaching them.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"I told you! Little Antares has finally grown up," and a third followed suit.

"Kyron! Aster! By the ancestors, you both look great!"

Antares embraced all of them one after another. It had been years since he last saw his fellow Lords of War. Neither men had changed much in those times. Both still carried the arrogant deposition that Antares had come to enjoy from them. For a time he was able to forget his title and what was expected of him. He along with Casspien regaled them of what they had missed by not coming to Akkad during his coronation. There was much to share amongst themselves, and Antares wished his journey to Eirdu was not one in passing. His Stygian relatives were brimming with noble youth, as well as the usual mischief he had come to associate them with. Like Xenon, both Aster and Kyron wore the finest of clothes. Where Aster sought a more simple look, with no jewelry whatsoever; Kyron adorned many trinkets and jewels around his neck. Their line of questioning of their king did little to hide their immaturity, as they were more focused on the beauty of his bride to be, more than the benefit such a union would entail for their home.

Before long, Antares also did well to introduce young Cyrus to the group as the boy who would stay with them. Cyrus–already a somewhat timid boy–found himself at a loss for words in the presence of what he saw as giants. A title most suitable for the man that approached him. Typhon was impossibly large; he cut a menacing figure against the rest. His wild hair was like the great flame they had all gathered around. It even bore the same dark crimson color. His fists were larger than his head and Cyrus was sure that all it would take of the great lord was a simple squeeze to crush him. He did not want to show his fear, he found the courage within him to speak to the great giant that stood before him.

"My name is Cyrus, it is nice to meet you my lords." It was a miracle he managed to speak so clearly.

"So this is the boy who has caught the eye of our king?" Typhon rubbed his beard and studied little Cyrus, "There is much discussion about you."

Cyrus blushed, surprised that there were those who would talk of him.

"A quiet one too eh? It is good to be cautious." Typhon nodded his head, agreeing with his deduction.

"You idiot, can you not see that the child is terrified of you?" Aster hung off the side of his kin. "Though I will say, I do not see what little Ant finds so interesting in such a weakling." His boyish face studied Cyrus in great detail.

"When have you ever had an eye for talent?" Kyron approached, acknowledging the little boy's presence. He looked older than Aster, but Cyrus was not too sure. They all looked ethereal in their own right, it was nearly impossible to tell their ages.

In their presence it was the first time Cyrus truly felt like he was standing amongst his kin. And yet it was the first time he was reminded how painfully ordinary he was. These were Lords of War, the Stygians of legend, stories of them were told throughout Akkad, throughout Aurum. Even his own father regaled him of these great warriors who alone were worth a thousand men and a mere couple of them together could rival an entire army. The way they carried themselves, the confidence they spoke with. The lack of fear. The power they wielded. They were a reminder of everything he was not. And now more than ever he felt embarrassed asking such an impossible thing from Antares. He knew his king was great, but he was no God. There were limits to his ability and as such that meant there were limits to what he could teach Cyrus. And of what he could teach him, the boy was unsure if he could even pass those trials.

"Alright that is enough," Antares waved them away from his ward. "You all are far too casual with the boy. He is my ward after all. Treat him well! Now go show him to his chambers!" the king winked at Cyrus and that calmed him.

Aster and Kyron rolled their eyes but nodded in agreement. Both men urged Cyrus to follow them and the boy turned to look at Antares again. He nodded in approval and off they went to another part of the palace. Antares hoped they would not tease him so much in his absence. The further they were from Akkad the more he seemed to become protective of the boy.

"Finally," Xenon, fell into his sunken seat by the open flame. His arms outstretched, "We can talk." He snapped his fingers and from the open walls, three scantily dressed servants brought drinks and waited patiently. All of them were awestruck by the appearance of the king.

"If it pleases you my king I will take my leave now," Casspien turned to Antares. "I will be back before we depart at sunset."

The king nodded, "Are you sure you do not want me to join you?"

"You're really going to go fucking see him?" Xenon jeered at his younger brother. "What could you possibly gain from that?"

Casspien turned his back on the ruler of Eirdu, "You may have forsaken him, but he is still our father."

"Casspien the Sword Saint, the Lord of War, the Lord Regent and the dutiful son." Xenon laughed as he mocked him. "I thought you'd outgrown his approval?"

The Lord Regent did not acknowledge his brother and pushed past Typhon. He would not engage Xenon.

"May I join you lord brother?" Melina asked.

"Not you as well?" Xenon looked betrayed.

"It is rare that my duty allows me to come to this south, lord brother. At the very least I should greet our parents if chance allows it." Melina puffed her cheeks and placed her hands on her hips ready to argue.

Casspien nodded with a soft smile.

"Whatever, do as you like." Xenon called for wine, no longer interested in his siblings.

"And will you stay Typhon?" Antares asked

The large Stygian shook his head heading for the door, "I have no interest in watching a battle of words between you both. I seek Guinevere to test her might!" he declared.

Before anyone could stop him the giant Stygian made his way deeper into the castle calling out for the princess. It had been some time since they last sparred. He would use the time before they headed south to see how much his cousin had grown in such a short time. A moment later, all who remained were Antares, Xenon and the servants.

Antares moved to sit across from Xenon Xerxes. Through the flame he studied a man who at one time he considered a rival, an ally. But of both things only the latter had the king begin to question. To call Xenon an enigma was to greatly underestimate who Antares considered the greatest merchant in all of Iliad. And one of a handful of merchants across Aurum who could stand on his own apart from the influence of the Golden Company. And a fellow Lord of War of course–a brutal divine killing weapon. This palace they currently sat in was a testament to that power and wealth. Xenon should have been considered the strongest of the king's allies. But many of Xenon's actions sowed doubt in that belief. Of the many reports the king read about how the Lord of Eirdu consolidated power in the south over the last half decade. The brutality and ruthlessness stood out the most. Of course Xenon was far too intelligent to be direct with his amassing wealth, much like the merchant he was. His actions were those of a man preparing for something. Nevertheless what concerned Antares the most was how easily Xenon had agreed to close the borders. While Iliad suffered because of Daimion and his cabal. Xenon profited, far greater than anyone else. The king wanted to understand the man even the elders could not.

"I have enjoyed your attempts to make your palace as great as Castle Xerxes." Antares called for a drink and the servant moved to him quickly. "Though I think many would wonder if you may be trying to cover for something you are lacking," Antares grinned and wiggled his pinky.

Xenon laughed, "Ask the servants if they think I lack anything." He sipped his drink while he reminisced of his previous night.

Antares looked at the servant women who all blushed greatly, unable to meet the gaze of their king. A jovial laugh escaped his lips. It echoed around the room and soon silence returned. Both men drank their wine as they gazed into the flame. Each of them in their own right stood at the zenith of their position. Men who wore multiple masks, never quite remembering what their true face ever looked like. They would never admit it to themselves, but they found comfort in each other's presence. They stood often opposed on matters, but they always knew in the end they cared for the same thing, Iliad's safety. But that was when they were younger, before they understood what it was they could do. As Antares was learning, much could change in five years.

"Do you ever curse him?" the old tongue sounded sweet from Xenon's lips. "Your father, for turning us into monsters? You're supposed to be given a hundred years to find out if you can hear the bells of Mashu Hursag. And he sent us there at fifteen…You were only twelve if I remember. Fucking twelve," an empty chuckle escaped his lips as he repeated the number.

Antares was slightly taken aback by the question, one he had not thought about for some time. "Once," the memory returned to the king in the fire. "When my uncle's rebelled. At the end of the war, as I laid there destroyed, broken in body and nearly mind. I was covered in their blood–so much blood spilt that day. The seas and beaches ran red with it. In that moment all I wanted to do was yell, 'father! What have you made me? This thing that can only destroy!' But the words never left my lips."

The King of Iliad examined his hands, such fine and delicate hands. Ones that looked like they had never known suffering. A smile crossed his face as he turned his attention back to the flame.

"But then I returned to Faye," the mention of her name carried with it the taste of thunder. "The moment I reached Castle Stormborne, she embraced me. She cried so deeply against my chest while I was still covered in blood and dirt. For days before, anything I touched, I ripped apart. I devoured everything in my path. So many met their end by my hands. But here was this thing, this human girl, wrapping herself around me crying so hard that I was safe. That I lived through that battle. I realized in that moment, I was meant to die in that conflict. Were it not for my father I would have died. Were it not for my father, I would not have been able to feel the warmth of the woman I love against me. I embraced her back and cried along with her. For days we were inseparable."

Antares for a moment though he could hear the distant wailing of a princess. But he knew no tears were shed for him. Not anymore. He allowed the moment to linger. In the flame he could see a young Faye. Her long golden hair and storm filled eyes looked back at him with a smile he could never forget. He called for more wine.

"Why were you so eager to accept Lord Aldios and Omiros decision to close the realms borders?" Antares had grown tired of the past, but still sought to tread upon it to find the answers he wanted.

Xenon grinned.

"I follow the mandate of the crown. Like any one who lives within Iliad."

"Is that so?" the king asked.

Xenon shrugged.

"I am to believe the same Lord of War who has rejected any order given to him by the elders? Now listens to orders from the crown?"

"The elders are not the crown, now are they?" Xenon downed the last of his wine, and demanded more. There was a twinkle in his eye.

Xenon had begun to play coy and Antares was in no mood for it. He knew that his cousin plotted, the signs of it were all there for the king to see. But the king's concern was how far the ruler of Eirdu was willing to go.

"Do not make me ask again," there was no doubt in the king's words. "Why were you so quick to agree? What do you seek?"

"The same thing you do by going south."

Antares waited for his cousin to elaborate.

"What, do you think I don't know?" Xenon began, "This union to a human, a human witch at that."

"What does Reza have to do with any of this?" Antares asked.

As the days went on since the announcement of his possible union with soon-to-be Crown Princess Reza Altieri. Antares was beginning to see that it was no small thing. That what she represented might be a much bigger obstacle than what he originally planned for. Was his betrothal to this princess so uncharacteristic that it shook Aurum itself? How much had the south changed over the centuries? These were all questions that swam through his mind.

"You seek power. But you're too much of a fucking coward to attain it through the old ways." The words of the ruler of Eirdu struck the king. "So you do as the humans do. Play their wedding games."

"Careful."

The open flame diminished greatly in size. And a cold chill ran through the room. The servant girls shivered and barely managed to stand. Antares had an unnerving look to him, against the morning sun his Stygian eyes blazed in comparison.

"Or what?" Xenon leaned forward. Unblinking.

In the moment it took any of them to blink, the King of the Stygians had conjured a spear so pure. So deadly. One need not touch the frozen armament to know it was weighted properly. Its proportions exact. The design of the ice spear resembled those of the ancient ones. Of the first Lords of War. Long spear heads that nearly matched the size of their handle. It hovered in the air steaming, its very essence far too cold for the world it now existed in. The spear was millimeters from Xenon's right eye. If he blinked, it would cut open his eye lids. The servant girls yelped in distress.

"I will paint these walls with your innards. They say your regenerative abilities surpass my own. I have been eager to see how you have improved from the last time I carved you open. Cousin." The king leaned forward, his blank expression uncomfortable for all to look at.

Xenon clapped his hands and rose, "Ah ha! There it is. He is still in there, Antares the Lord of War still lives!" He looked at the servants with a devilish grin.

The king leaned back, "Why must you make me take you seriously?" he let out a sigh.

"I wanted to know not all of you is lost." Xenon grabbed the spear out of the air. He examined it closely debating how much he could sell it for.

"Is it that shocking that I am going south?" Antares rolled his eyes.

"You my friend have been gone a long time," he twirled the spear between his hands. "But to answer your question. I agreed to do as they asked because I knew it would give me complete control of all of Iliad's southern trading routes. Over the last five years, I have bribed, killed, tortured any and all who would stand in my way."

Subtly was not a strong suit of the ruler of Eirdu when it came to conversation. But Antares had already arrived to the same answer Xenon had. Daimion, Lords Aldios and Omiros in their haste to close off Iliad, did not take into account that the Lord of War–that was entrusted to by King Barranagan himself–used the opportunity to cease complete economic control of a third of the realm. But of course Xenon was no ordinary Lord of War and his loyalties in combat were not the same out of it. He had the heart of a merchant, he saw an opportunity and he exploited it. Much of Antares visit here was to assess the true damage of what his brother's cabal had done. If the king were meant to focus all his efforts south, he needed to know he would not be stabbed in the back while it was turned.

Xenon sat back down with the spear in hand, satisfied with the quality of it. "But you already knew that, so why don't you ask me what it is you really want to know, my king?"

Antares pondered for a moment, searching for the words.

"Why do you want to go to war with the Golden Company?"

Xenon grinned.