The Epic of Antares

From the first night he had arrived, he found it difficult to sleep. He had expected it to happen, the contents of what he was tasked to do—what he was expected to do—would leave him very little time to rest. He swore to the king he would not fail. After the first night, he steeled himself for what was to come. However several nights had passed since that day, and as Cyrus lay awake in a room bigger than even his chambers back at castle Xerxes. He had become exasperated at the state of affairs.

A primal moan rang through the air. The boy took one of the pillows around him and placed it on his face. Several more moans cried out, each one as seductive as the last. Multiple women found themselves in the throes of pleasure. Cyrus had remembered the eccentric activities the common folk had participated in during Antares crowning ceremony. He knew the sounds of pleasure men and women could make, but this was different. The women sounded as though they were nearly lost in the ecstasy of sensuality. The melding of flesh against flesh, the sharing of energy and the passion that came with that. He could hear it all. For many nights, Cyrus was subjected to the nightly activities of Xenon Xerxes.

The boy had long stopped being red faced at the sounds that echoed into his room. After several nights of first hand audience of the same thing over and over again, he had somewhat grown accustomed to it. In fact it would not have bothered him as much, had in the days since Antares and everyone had left, Xenon had given Cyrus the trial he was meant to take. But there was no word. The Lord of Eirdu barely even acknowledged the boy's presence as nothing more than a rat scurrying around the feet of giants.

Cyrus did feel so in his presence and in the presence of the others. Both Kyron and Aster towered just as tall as Xenon and carried the same destructive energy as the lord merchant. In spite of that, when they were around him they tried to be more welcoming. Cyrus did like them far more because of it. His days at the palace were his own—he spent them roaming the hallways and busying himself with his drawings. Occasionally a servant would fetch him when meals had been prepared. If he requested it, they would accompany him wherever he wanted and do whatever it was he desired.

He was treated as a true lord. Cyrus was unsure how he felt because of it. Back in Castle Xerxes he spent much of his time with Lady Alena and Princess Cirella so he always felt as though he was only attended to because of them. Yet here, he was alone to do as he pleased. There was a loneliness that permeated through the boy, one that slowly turned to anger at the lack of direction from the man that was put in charge of him. Another long moan echoed through his room.

Cyrus gingerly rose out of bed and dressed himself. The sun had already crept over the edge and the city would be coming alive shortly. The boy yawned a harsh yawn and rubbed his sandy hair. Eight days without proper rest had made him irritable and he soon would have a permanent scowl like Ursula. He left his room and walked down the hall. Unfortunately he would have to pass Xenon's chambers on the way downstairs. As he walked by the moaning's were far louder and more rhythmic with each wail. Four? No only five this time, he counted the number of women that entertained the Lord of Eirdu's chambers. Strange, he thought. Usually Xenon entertained more, perhaps something had happened? Cyrus quickly cleared the thought from his mind and continued on his way. He had more pressing concerns on how he would entertain himself for the long day ahead. He still had not journeyed into the city and wanted to buy sweets for Ciri.

Despite his opinions of Xenon, Cyrus quite liked the look of his palace. The traces of Stygian architecture were there—geometric shapes that mirrored snowflakes, long straight lines, the use of marble—but the combined desire for open space made it as though he walked through a dream world. Translucent curtains blew softly against the morning air. With them they carried the scent of mildew and hints of rain. The marble tile was an icy white and contained swirling raging winds within them. Along the walls were portraits of the former rulers of Eirdu. Cyrus did note that Xenon's portrait was quite prevalent throughout the palace. Depicted in all sorts of interest and questionable ways. If he were ever to own land, he would surely build a castle similar to this but not nearly as many paintings of himself.

"The young lord finally joins us!" Aster waved at Cyrus as the boy made his way into the dining area pavilion. "I am surprised you are up this early."

"I couldn't sleep," Cyrus grumbled, reaching the grand table decorated with an assortment of fruits, meats and desserts. He went straight for the desserts. "They just don't stop."

Kyron had made himself a large plate of meats and fruits. "We warned you to pick a different room." The Stygian lord began consuming his meal delightedly.

"There is a reason our chambers are on the other side of the palace." Aster added, pointing back behind himself.

Cyrus grumbled knowing that they were right. He had thought staying next to Xenon would prove his eagerness to learn. That he was not going to take whatever he had planned lightly. Instead all it had done for him was cause him great stress and many sleepless nights. The boy had grown frustrated with the entire ordeal. These were no trials.

"It's been days and he still hasn't said anything to me." He slammed his plate on the table and sat down ready to devour his desserts.

Aster had found himself a comfortable long chair in the corner and was tended to by servants. "My little friend, that is who Xenon is. He only does what he desires, when he desires it."

Kyron nodded along, his bare chest exposed except for many trinkets around his neck. "It is true. Xenon can go many weeks before addressing you or anyone." He smiled.

"Weeks!?" Cyrus nearly choked on his cake. "Antares will be back by then, what am I supposed to tell him?"

Both Kyron and Aster shrugged.

Cyrus's mood soured. He had already wasted several days and had not even started his trial. He did not even know how long the trial would take him to complete, let alone what was expected of him. If Antares were to return and he still had not even attempted the trial he was sure that the King of the Stygians would not train him. Who would train a boy who could not even begin a trial? He teetered between rage and uncertainty. He did not understand why Antares would choose a man like Xenon to test him. There had been nothing about him that he liked. He was lazy, he spent all his time doing nothing. The rare times he did do something, he spent it with all manner of women through the nights. Cyrus was at a loss.

"I don't understand what Antares sees in him," Cyrus muttered to himself.

Aster snickered.

"What?" he grumbled.

"Well for one, you seek strength and Xenon is one of the strongest among us." There was a twinkle in Aster's eyes. "It is not that far outside the realm of possibility that may be one of the many things King Antares sees in him. Despite what you might think of him."

Kyron nodded agreeingly.

Cyrus feigned a laugh. He understood Xenon was strong, he could feel it from the moment he first laid eyes on him. The look of a savage beast that was restrained beneath the surface. His golden-violet eyes swirled with a predator-like violence that the boy had never seen before. But what kind of strength could such a man possess who spent his days doing nothing? He did not train, nor did he partake in any kind of meditation. If not for the rarest of times he attended his meetings. Cyrus often found the Lord of Eirdu, laying somewhere asleep with a book on his face—the days passing him by. The boy would approach mustering all the courage to speak to such a terrifying man, and he would not stir from his slumber no matter what Cyrus said to wake him. This man could not be the best the Lords of War had to offer.

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"I am really supposed to think he's the strongest out of all of you?" Cyrus had finished most of his desserts, he drank squeezed fruit. He was still a year or two away from experiencing the delights of true Stygian wine. "He doesn't do anything."

"Ah my dear little friend," Aster wagged his finger. "That is precisely the point of power."

Cyrus looked confused.

"Besides," Aster had no interest in clarifying the point he was making. "Xenon is the strongest. Out of all twelve of us, well eleven now." He thought for a moment, recounting his fellow kin. "I would say it goes Xenon, Siegfried, Typhon, and Lyrik"

Lyrik. All this time and Cyrus had still not met the man. He seemed more to be an afterthought than a real person. Every time he mentioned his name to either Kyron or Aster they always told him the same thing, Lyrik will return when he remembers the way. He did not fully understand what they meant by it. He half remembered Akkad and its magical properties. He wondered if it was the same for Eirdu. But how would Lyrik forget to return to his home?

"Actually I would say it goes, Siegfried, Xenon, Lyrik and Typhon." Kyron added his opinion into the mix.

"Siegfried?" Aster and Cyrus said in unison. Although both said the name for different reasons; Aster was shocked that Kyron thought the man that powerful. And Cyrus not knowing who Siegfried was other than the man that would give him his next trial.

"The man slayed a dragon," Kyron openly remarked. "None of us have slayed a dragon."

Cyrus was wide-eyed. He did not know the man he was next to see was so legendary. To have felled a dragon was a feat reserved only for the most elite of warriors. Their presence in Aurum was rare and those capable of killing one were rarer still. Many of them stayed to the south, but what the boy had remembered from his lessons at the castle was that they were second to the Lords of War in how dangerous they were. Some of the last from a different age—a more violent, bloodthirsty time. Cyrus was slightly afraid of meeting the man that could do such a thing. He could not imagine how much more terrible he must have been in comparison to Xenon. He shuddered, but a thought came to him.

"What about Antares?"

Both Aster and Kyron scoffed.

"Oh please," Aster began, holding in a laugh.

"As he is now, he cannot hope to compare." Kyron coughed to hide his laugh, looking away.

Cyrus was annoyed by the way they talked about Antares. He knew the King of the Stygians was strong. There was no way the Stygians would have allowed him to be king if he was not.

"Why are you laughing?" Cyrus barked, "Antares is strong!"

"Five years ago," Aster corrected. "Yes I would agree with you. Back then…" He looked off into the distance, it was the first time Cyrus saw Aster look serious. "There was none among us who could consistently hold our own against him. But now?"

"Even Aster could beat him regularly," Kyron remarked.

Aster threw grapes at him as retaliation for the slight. Kyron attempted to catch it with his mouth.

"As I was saying," the carefree lord continued. "Now things have changed. Five years may not be long for us, but it is a long time to be away from battle. Senses dull, bloodlust does not flow like it once did."

"What he is trying to say is that the man that you seek to learn from is no longer a warrior." Kyron cut through Aster's speech.

The thought had never occurred to Cyrus, which is why it made him so uncomfortable. Not once while in his presence had the boy ever looked at him as a warrior. Rather, when he saw him he could only see the King of the Stygians. Even with Casspien and Guinevere, when he looked at them he felt it. However with Antares it was not there. He wondered why it was the case. There was so much about the man that had made him his ward that he did not know. He felt ashamed. All the time he had spent in the castle, all the demands he made of the king. He never once considered the reason why he hesitated to teach him perhaps had to do with the king's own desire to no longer be a warrior. Cyrus cursed himself for the selfishness of youth, but would not allow it to be an excuse for his lack of understanding.

"Oh do not look so sad little Cyrus," Aster threw a grape at his head. "He still wishes to teach you despite leaving the battle himself. Perhaps in that act he may rediscover the warrior within. Take pride in that. "

Cyrus held back tears and nodded. Thankful for the kind words.

"Why the fuck is it so noisy?"

A cold chill ran through the entire pavilion. It was like a winter storm had just blown through the area. Both the servants and Cyrus reflexively shivered at the sudden blast of cold air. Kyron and Aster sighed at the coming amalgamation of primal violence. The pressure Xenon carried was suffocating.

"You are up early," Aster raised his glass to him. "I take it was not a fulfilling night?"

Xenon yawned, one Cyrus mistook for a growl. The Lord of Eirdu had joined them shirtless, his frame a hulking mass of chiseled muscle. His physique mirrored his fathers. "Find me tougher meat."

"Hard to do when you keep pounding them into the ground," Kyron added.

Xenon turned his head ever so slightly. "Who asked you?"

Kyron rolled his eyes. It was far too early to engage with him now, especially when he was unsatisfied. He would be in a foul mood all day. Xenon approached the table and began to make himself a plate filled with dessert. Cyrus dwarfed in size to his towering form. He was sure he was taller than Guinevere. The boy searched within himself for the courage to address the Lord of Eirdu.

"L-lord Xen-"

Xenon gazed down at the thing that called to him. The torrent of ferocity that swam within his eyes threatened to drown Cyrus in them. This was no man he was addressing, it was a being frightfully worse. He yelped out of fear.

"Oh you," Xenon recalled. "Cyprus." His monstrous gaze softened, if ever so slightly. He looked at the boy's plate, "You should eat meat, to grow your bones."

Cyrus could only nod.

He watched as the Stygian lord added all kinds of desserts to his plate. The ease with which he moved and operated showed someone who was careful with their movements even if they were uninteresting. Cyrus had grown weary of his time in Eirdu, he needed to begin his trial at the very least know what it entailed to prepare himself for when he was permitted to take it. His heart pounded heavily in his ears and he slowly fostered the strength and will to address the man he was left in the care of.

"Um… L-lord Xenon, I w-was wondering-"

Xenon raised his head and Cyrus flinched. The merchant looked around the pavilion, searching for something or someone.

"Where the fuck is Lyrik?" his voice boomed through the open area. "Has he not returned?"

Aster shrugged, and demanded more wine. "You better than anyone know what he is like."

Kyron yawned, sleep returning to him now that he was full. "Aren't you the one who told him not to return, until he managed to win back at least a third of all the gold he has spent?"

Aster snickered remembering the conversation between them. Xenon shot him an angry glare and the servant girls in that direction all cowered behind each other.

"So then who will be participating in the celebration tonight?" Xenon asked, uninterested in the answer.

"Now what pleasure is there in spoiling the fun?" Aster winked with a sly smile.

Xenon grumbled, satisfied with the desserts he had collected he made his way back to his chambers. The air in the pavilion slowly started to warm. Cyrus finally felt as though he could breathe properly. He let out a soft sigh at the fact that once again he was barely acknowledged. He was slowly coming to the conclusion that Xenon would never view him as nothing more than a nuisance, unworthy of being trained by Antares.

"Hey Cyrus?" Aster rose from his chair, stretching. He spoke softly to one of the servants and she was sent on her way.

"Yes?" the boy said, looking up with sad eyes.

"Come along, there is something I would like to show you."