The Epic of Antares

He had enjoyed the scenery of his ride. Neith was in full bloom and the clutches of winter had yet to reach her lands. The sun now blazed overhead illuminating the greenery all around him. As Antares slowed the horse to a light trot, he scanned the lands. He more than made good time on his approach towards Golden Company. The gravel road he took to reach his destination was of the best quality, both the bushes and grass were cut uniformly showing that they had been tended to regularly. It must have been a considerable effort, he thought, for the path was a long one. But he knew when it came to displays of wealth, none were more than willing to show theirs than the Company.

He reached the end of the road and it opened up towards a large cave entrance. The King of the Stygians first noticed the twin golden spires that stood triumphantly on either side of the cave entrance. They reached a height equal to the peak of the cave's highest point. What brilliant craftsmanship, the towers glittered with expensive gold, monuments to a kind of wealth, very few kings ever had the pleasure of experiencing. At the base of each spire were flowers of varying colors and styles. It was as though the golden pillars grew from within the flower beds themselves. A subtle nod to how they viewed wealth, although warped, Antares found the humor in it.

A large marble staircase was carved leading deep into the mouth of the cave. It reminded him of the obsidian stairs that welcomed those into castle Xerxes. But where the stairs of castle Xerxes were uniform and maintained by the highest of Stygian quality. The stairs to the home of the Golden Company were worn, subjected to the constant elements throughout the centuries. The Stygian King found it odd that so little effort was taken to maintain the entrance to this fabled place. He had heard so many stories about the Golden Company, about the vast treasure troves of wealth they had accumulated. But to see how they presented themselves now gave him cause for concern. However Antares was more than aware that appearances were not always what they seemed. He turned to look at the position of the sun, he had time. He would not be long, he did not want to keep the others waiting.

As the Ilian King climbed the old marble stairs, he was left alone to do so. There was no great crowd waiting for his arrival or were there people clamoring to see his appearance. For the first time since he began his journey south, he was not welcomed with any great fanfare. And he was thankful, the solitude of the singular march allowed him to think about what was to come. More favorably, it allowed him to study the eyes of those who watched him from unseen vantage points. Figures who looked on from the spaces between shadows and from so far away they did not think he would notice. The Golden Company was cautious. He was amused by their reaction.

Antares moved further inside. The blue skies now replaced by the dark and wet ceiling of the cave. It was far more spacious inside than one would expect. Stalagmites were common all around and spread out over great distances, there were some holes made through the ceiling that allowed light to pierce the darkness. In the distance to his left, a great bonfire burned which held most of the responsibility of lighting the way ahead. The path ahead reminded him of merchant roads in Akkad, where vendors would be lined up on either side selling their wares. But these caravans and tents were incredibly old. Most had broken down and others were covered in dust and grime. The merchants who owned these shops no longer lived. Antares knew that, just from the air that hung in the place. He could smell old Aurum, the fear, the death. The King of the Stygians had been transported back to a time he had only ever read in books. He walked along the road, studying the shops. Looking at the trinkets left behind. His Akashic Eyes showed him the echoes of people engaged in their daily life. Children played and caused mischief. Husbands gathered and traded goods, wives sewed clothes and gossiped among themselves. As much as death hung in the air there was life here, once. Antares smiled a solemn smile.

"King Antares?"

The king turned to address the hooded figure in front of him. Antares peered to see who was beneath the cover but strong magic prevented him from doing so. He studied the appearance of the individual and all he could ascertain was that the person was a boy.

"Yes?"

"Follow me," the boy bowed greatly. "Please forgive the lack of proper welcome. My masters were unsure if you would journey to us."

It was a lie, the Golden Company were more than aware that Antares would come to them. Daimion's blunder more than cemented the need for conversation. No this was a test, they wished to study the new Stygian King's temperance. To see how he differed from his father and his brother.

"It is I who should ask for forgiveness. I should have sent word of my coming."

There was a slight reaction from the boy. It was clear he was not expecting the ruler before him to be so formal and apologetic. He quickly recomposed himself and turned towards the road ahead. One Antares followed in silence.

As they reached the end of the merchant road. They were greeted by a door of otherworldly size and proportion. It looked to touch the very ceiling of the cave itself. The thickness of the wood was outstanding. Unlike everything he had seen on his way. This was the first time Antares had seen anything here given such care. There was no splintering or blemish. The wood was fresh and clean. It carried the scent of the forest with it. It was impossibly large and hummed with a low vibration similar to the rumble the ground made when horses stampede. From the base of the door, various people and their family were carved into it. Antares could even make out several of the carriages he had seen left abandoned on the merchant road. The people were drawn with smiling faces and happy souls. He was sure if he looked long enough he would be able to hear their laughs.

Just above the caravans there was now a new set of carvings, one of great violence and bloodshed. The once cheerful faces were twisted into horror and unimaginable suffering. All of this happened as those carved into the door made their way towards a cave in the distance. And so like this up along the door was the story of the Golden Company told. Carved into a piece of an Everwood Tree. Never to be forgotten, always to be preserved. So that those who may come here, know of the history of those who live on the other side of this great door. As to why they so readily and without care abused Aurum, her people and her resources.

The ancient doors slowly opened and shook the very cave itself. The power and skill it took to create this structure was not lost on the Stygian King. He was impressed, in fact he was amazed by the symbolism humans possessed–the sheer desire to create things with the most profound of meaning. All to justify the atrocities they committed. As though a symbol from a time long ago was all it was needed to claim they deserved to do as they saw fit. Neith was everything humans strived to become, but to Antares, The Golden Company was everything that humans were. Xenon's words lingered in his mind. And as his guide stepped inside, so too did the King of Iliad follow.

The interior was more sophisticated than the area they had just left. Braziers were placed in patterns allowing for the halls to lit with an atmospheric energy about them. The marble floors were cool to the touch and the stone walls reflected the lights hung on them. Various merchants moved together adorned in the clothes of vendors, the whiteness of their robe signifying the level of wealth they possessed. So many of them too busy lost in petty arguments to notice the King of Iliad among them. Those who did notice, only glanced at his direction before they continued their debates. Their jewels shone in the fire light.

This was a temple to wealth, and here the Gods were made of gold and silver. The deeper they made their way the more treasure Antares was exposed to. He saw statues made of emerald, some made of bronze. He saw Stygian weapons hung on walls like decorations. The souls within them long dormant. He saw armor pieces from Avalon and the mystic power that was blessed upon them. As he went deeper into the cave he saw Aurum's history displayed as trophies for all to see. To Antares this place was a perversion of the real world outside. A desecration of the lives that were given and taken in the pursuit of people's desire. Here they did not matter, they were entertainment. No other group of people enjoyed the consequences of violence like those of the Golden Company. The young monarch struggled to contain his disdain.

As they made their way through the last of the doors, their journey came to a stop in front a black door, on it the famed symbol of the Golden Company–twin Pisces swimming in opposite directions. In between both of them a single gold coin.

"This is as far as I am allowed to travel, King of the Stygians." The softness of the boy's voice told him he was around the same age as Cyrus. "Your invitation only extends to this chamber and you will not be permitted any deeper."

"I understand, thank you young one."

The boy still had some ways to go, his reaction far too honest for the profession he found himself. He nodded softly and made way for Antares to pass him by as he returned to his duties somewhere within the labyrinth structure.

The first thing Antares noticed when he entered the room was the raging waterfall on either side. He was slightly surprised his Stygian ears were not able to pick up the sound despite standing outside the door. More proof magic was woven into the very structure of this place. Each waterfall poured gallons of water into a large lake that was as still as the night air. On the edge of each waterfall, two great warriors carved out of silver stood opposed ready to engage in fearsome battle. Their armor similar in style and design to those of the famed ancient knights of Avalon. In the middle of the lake, a large stone platform floated, upon it a low table with various drinks and fruits rested calmly. Antares looked on as the path towards the area was highlighted by smaller stone platforms all leading their way to the table. The king stepped across the platforms as he arrived at the low table. He lowered himself and sat calmly. Waiting for his host to arrive.

Moments later on the other side, the door opened. And a man approached. Much like how Xenon was, the man was decorated in the attire of a wealthy merchant, and similar to the king's cousin he also adorned a great many jewels and trinkets across his hands, fingers and neck. But where the Lord of Eirdu chose to display his wealth with a multi-colored attire. This man instead chose a bleached appearance with golden accents made along the trims of his clothes. He moved with the grace afforded those who had never known struggle in life, a perpetual smile on his face. He carried an air of wealth and arrogance, reserved for a king. Avram Taille-Fer smiled a wicked smile.

"Antares! Or should I say King Antares!" The man's laugh echoed through the chamber. "The last time we met. Your father sentenced you to die!"

Antares let out a half-hearted laugh, "Lord Avram." He recalled the day his father announced he would take the rituals to become a Lord of War. "As you can see I still live."

Avram looked through the fruits on the table, deciding which one he would catch his fancy. "Debatable. We are all in various states of death." Upon deciding on an apple he bit down into it. "Some more physical, like your father. And others more abstract like your kingdom."

Avram Taille-Fer spoke like a man without fear. For what was there to fear in the presence of the younger brother of a man he once unexpectedly called a friend. Even now at the age of sixty-seven he still had the same wild and greedy eyes of his youth. His brown hair was tied back and his face clean shaven. One of his eyes a soft blue and the other a darker brown. To call Avram peculiar would be grossly underselling a man who seemed to carry himself like the waters around them did. Without a care in the world in which direction they went, as long as there was somewhere to go. The human merchant bared his golden teeth and curled his lips upwards in a smile.

"I see time has not changed you Lord Avram." Antares was unsure if he was pleased by this. "And most certainly not effected your brashness."

Avram waved his hand dismissively, "You sound like Hyperion. You know I always told him you would become great. It is true, I saw it before anyone, even your father. I bet he has told you a great deal about me." The wealthy merchant nodded his head approvingly.

Hyperion had never spoken of Avram to Antares, in fact the one time he did mention him. He did so to expertly explain why he detested the man so much. The only reason Antares remembered, was because it was perhaps the only time he had ever seen his brother express his true feelings about someone he disliked.

"My brother has spoken of you with passion." The king offered a half truth as he smiled.

Avram leaned on the table, studying the waterfall, "Speaking of your brother, Hyperion–the coward." His eyes never leave the water crashing into the lake. "What do you think of the mess he has left for you to clean up? I mean Hyperion–the coward."

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Restraint. That was the only word that repeated in Antares' head, over and over again. He pushed all other thoughts and actions to the pits of his soul. The ease in which he could tear the man in front of him apart, like the apple he bit into. He recalled parts of his conversation with the King of Neith. If he truly sought to rule as his brother would have, he could not allow such provocations to reach him. Antares held himself back so strongly the mana all around them hummed with anticipation. The young king reached for the wine bottle and poured himself and Avram a glass.

"I have not come here to discuss Hyperion wanting to seek his own path." Avram scoffed at Antares rationalization of his brother's self-exile. The king ignored it. "One day he will return, my role is only to rule in his stead." A sentence he had repeated to himself everyday since assuming the crown.

"That's very nice. So then have you come here to discuss this witch you will be marrying?" Avram had finished half the apple. "I hear she is the prettiest of the emperor's daughters. Personally, the Nephilim Queen is more to my liking."

"I have not-" Antares began.

"Or have you come to talk about the two hundred and fifty thousand gold coins your brother borrowed from the Golden Company underneath your fathers name?" Lord Avram picked up the glass and drank the smooth liquid.

Antares studied the contents of his wine before drinking it.

The sly merchant threw the rest of his apple into the lake, "You know I was shocked. Truly. Here I am one fine morning, enjoying the company of a Nephilim whore–I mean noble." He recalled the intricacies of her mouth. "And I get a letter from none other than Xenon Xerxes himself. The famed merchant of Iliad. The Guardian of the entrance to the most coveted realm." Avram shook his head still in disbelief at what happened. "And can you imagine what the letter said? That the Lord Regent, the only son left that Barranagan Xerxes didn't exile or chase away—wants to speak to me? Avram Taille-Fer. A lowly merchant."

Antares cursed Xenon. It seems in the Stygians merchant's long tirade and explanation of why he wished to go to war with the Golden Company. He had forgotten to also reveal to his king that he was responsible for the Golden Company having their claws so far into Ilian territory. Antares thought of many ways he would punish his forgetful cousin. None of them particularly pleasant, or quick.

"Why what else was I supposed to do but graciously accept!" he bowed towards Antares mockingly. "A lesser man would not have gone for fear of a trap. But Lilyan Taille-Fer did not raise a lesser man on the pleasure streets of Kish. No, not me. I went." He poured himself another drink.

Antares looked on, unblinking. HIs thoughts of Daimion and the man before him.

Avram smiled a pained smile. "The Gods are my witness, I was going to say no. I swear it on my name Antares, I was going to say no to whatever Daimion and his little group wanted." The old merchant rubbed his chin, his expression turning horrifically stoic. He leaned over towards the King of the Stygians. "But when your brother referred to my mother as the whore of a prized dog, fit only to bear animals." His fluency in the old tongue was on par with Antares. Avram Taille-Fer was a true son of Iliad. "Well after that I had to oblige right? It's only fitting that an animal follows its master."

Avram broke out into a jovial laughter, recalling the day in question. It would be a day he would never forget for as long as he lived. A memory that would play just before he drew his last breath. He would never forget that day.

"You know I have always been good with my hands." He showed strong hands that were more suited to wielding a blade than holding coin. "But the day I learned I was better with my words, I never looked back. I wish you were there to see me work. They had only come to ask for fifty thousand. I made them leave with two hundred and fifty thousand gold coins." Avram was proud.

The room went silent. Avram reminisced, while Antares sought to understand why he was blessed with Daimion. He sought to look into his memory to see what could have caused his younger brother to go down such a path. Daimion was treated better than any of his siblings. He was given everything he desired. So why did he become this? Antares exhaled his emotions.

"What do you want, Lord Avram?"

"Me? Nothing, I have a wonderful life." The man yawned, looking through the rest of the fruits. "But the Golden Company… Well that is a different story."

Antares remained stoic, "...And what does the Golden Company want?"

"Many things. Many many things." Avram turned and waved his hand, "But most important of all the Golden Company wants stability."

"Stability?" Antares repeated.

Avram nodded, "Yes stability. You see the company is fine with merchants like Xenon Xerxes or like your uncle in the Storm Islands, Sad Smile. They are good for business–big, powerful. Their reach is strong enough to keep the other merchants in check. Yes we may not align, an assassination here, the burning of a village there. Disagreements really. It's all contained, not enough to grab the attention of the kings and queens of Aurum, such as yourself." The merchant found grapes he enjoyed and helped himself.

"Someone is seeking the attention of the monarchs?"

"A small group, really a cabal. Have taken it amongst themselves to increase the intensity of our disagreements, with new products."

King Antares was growing annoyed with Avram's tip toeing. "Lord Avram as much as I have enjoyed our conversation. I am a busy man."

Avram cleared his throat, and started throwing grapes into his mouth. "Well use see, I have it from good authority. That there is perhaps some truth to a rumor that Hightower is supplying those who are foolish enough to ask, weapons and gear from The Empire of the Four Kings of Man, Well I guess they are only three-"

"What."

The lake froze. Soon after the waterfall followed. The grapes that Avram had been playing with stood suspended in air, chilled to their core. Frost had begun to form on the corners of the room. The two great warriors made of silver turned their heads towards Antares. The temperature had dropped several degrees and Avram shivered with a terrible fright. He looked into the eyes of the King of the Stygians and saw within it a kind of violence he did not know existed. The man had lived among Stygians much of his life, but what he was looking at was something more. He was in great danger.

Antares had been tested, more than he had ever been in a very long time. But even he had limits. There were only so many things he could accept. But he refused for one of them to be that weapons from The Empire of Three Kings were here in his homeland. That the merchants of Hightower would dare deal with the very people who threatened to eat the stars thousands of years ago. The people who bathed in evil. Dark Magic on Aurum, in any form, was a mark of complete annihilation. Three things ran through Antares' mind in that moment–Hightower, the Nephilim, Nero Blackrose.

"Do.You.Have.Proof." The old tongue was dripping with venom from the mouth of the king.

"No your grace," Avram admitted honestly. "Quite frankly the Golden Company does not care if the rumors are false. The fact that they exist is all that we need to feel that they have overextended. And need a massive correction. Vanaheimr and Talterra by proxy have emboldened them for too long."

King Antares took a moment to gather his thoughts. He chastised himself for his outburst. It was not the reaction of a king, but one of a Lord of War. The mere mention of that Empire blinded him with a rage that existed buried deep inside of him. What that Empire represented was the antithesis to the Stygian way of life. So much had his people given to seal the Three Kings away and to think that there would be those–Stygians who lived in Hightower willing to deal with the offspring of such vile creatures. As a Lord of War he was duty bound to report this immediately to the elders. In a swift action Hightower would fall because of it. However he was here as a king. The implications from the revelations revealed to him would spell doom for many. One Antares knew the Golden Company were hoping for.

"If I refuse?" the words were said with a softer tone.

Avram rolled his eyes and leaned forward. "With all due respect, King Antares. You have three options. He raised his finger. "You can hand over Daimion Xerxes and his family as payment." He raised another, "In a year's time, you pay back what is owed. With interest. Three hundred thousand golden coins." And the final finger rose, "You tell the elders of the rumor and they command you to wipe Hightower and her merchants out of existence."

"The other realms will not simply accept such a thing. Iliad's influence is not as strong as it once was. Proof would be required," Antares reasoned.

"That is of no concern to the Golden Company." Avram stated matter of fact, "All we have done have been good citizens of Aurum, and reported on a rumor."

Antares took a moment to think, the repercussions for the destruction of Hightower would be too great. That is why his people had always settled for keeping it under their rule. The rest of the realms looked at Hightower as a beacon of peace, not even their allies would so readily accept that a town like that dealt with dark magic items. But the elders would not care. The mere mention of it would be more than enough. They would stop at nothing to rid Aurum of such forbidden tools and objects. There had to be another way.

"I wish to take on my brother's debt."

Avram grinned.

"This is why I like you the most, Antares." The merchant rubbed his hands together. "Because you will never run away. Not like Hyperion, or that coward of a young brother. No matter how much is taken from you, you will keep giving more, keep moving forward. Like a curse."

The merchant pondered for a second.

"Perhaps I give you too much credit?" he studied the young Stygian in front of him. "Maybe your motivations are not so noble. For the only other reason I can think of other than that is because you think your life is expendable? Maybe you're already dead eh? Makes it that much easier. To throw your life away for a treacherous brother. Was losing Freyja Stormborne the final straw?"

"Will you accept my proposition or not?"

Avram rubbed his chin pondering what he would have to eat after this encounter, "You know we are just going to make you destroy Hightower in a year? Whether you do it of your own volition or because you run out of time to pay is up to you."

"Do you accept?" the Stygian King asked again. There would not be a third time.

Lord Avram Taille-Fer wiped his nose and snapped his fingers.

Out of thin air a dried parchment paper appeared. On it the Golden Company sigil burned intensely. The paper unfurled itself and a contract made out towards Barranagan Xerxes appeared. The contents of the contract were covering the lending of two hundred and fifty thousand gold coins to be paid back in a year's time. The terms and conditions of the contract as well as the wording changed to reflect the recent agreement that Avram and Antares had just made.

"You know it was smart of them to put it in Barranagan's name since he was dying." Avram studied the contract as it reworded itself. "But I don't think I mentioned to your brother and his cabal that in the event of a death, the debt is transferred and doubled."

Antares raised an eyebrow.

The merchant shook his head dismissively, "Don't worry like I said, I like you King Antares. Just the standard two hundred and fifty thousand gold coins. And to show you how much I like you, I've started the contract fresh." He flashed his gold teeth proudly, " You have one year from today to pay back the Golden Company or destroy Hightower. In the event that you do neither in the one year given. Your entire being and soul is forfeited to the Golden Company for a set time, wherein your first task by your new masters–is to destroy Hightower. Do you accept?"

"I do," the King of Iliad acknowledged.

The contract vibrated harshly as the name of the King of the Stygians was written across the bottom in a deep red color. Antares could feel the binding vows of the contract impose themselves upon his soul. Such powerful magic strong enough to bind a Stygian could only be crafted by a Black Witch. The paper furled itself back, the seal locked back into place and bled itself over the paper. Coating it in thick gold. It vanished.

Lord Avram leaned on the table and sighed with great ease. "Thus concludes the business between the Golden Company and the Stygian King." He looked content.

King Antares rose and bowed. There was nothing left to say and he chose to make his way across the now frozen lake.

"Antares, If I may offer some advice?" Avram Taille-fer called out. "As a friend of your brothers."

Antares did not want to stop but he obliged the man one final courtesy.

"Go home, Twilight King. Nero has infected these lands. They know not what they do by provoking you. They know not of the Lord of War. The emperor is not long for this world, do not let the madness of one man undo the chains you have placed on yourself. Grant that little witch a mercy, that she not wed the man who would butcher her family."

Antares studied the face of Lord Avram Taille-Fer. The man had aged in the years since he last saw him some seventeen years ago. How much had changed in such a time. Antares recalled again his brother going into great detail about how he disliked the man. A soft smile crept across the young king's face. He also remembered peering into his brother as he saw his true nature when he spoke of Avram, the warmth and calmness it made him feel. Antares turned his back on Avram and carried on his way. The silver warriors watching him leave.

The Stygian King waved his hand with ease and the frozen lake and waterfall both thawed immediately and the grapes fell onto the table. The waterfall rushed with greater intensity.

"It was good to see you again Avram. Truly."