Titan of Warfare

Pallas got another hit in on Alexander and grinned victoriously as he stabbed his sword through Alexander’s shoulder. The captain went down with a groan, clutching at his shoulder to stem the blood flow. Pallas stepped on top of him, placing a booted foot down hard on Alexander’s sternum. Pallas angled his blade against Alexander’s neck and prepared himself to bear down.

Behind them, Rhei staggered to his feet. He stumbled, holding a hand to the side of his head where blood was dripping down and staining his gray hair. He shook his head, trying to fight back the dizziness, and Pallas turned his attention to him.

“Aw, the downed hero awakens from his slumber!” Pallas mocked. “Just in time to watch the death of his friend.” He smirked. “With this kill, I will announce the beginning of a war! At last, I will achieve my revenge against Athens and its hallowed Lady!” He turned cruel eyes to Asteria. “You shall be my messenger. Let them know that my campaign season begins soon. I officially declare--”

“No,” Rhei’s voice roughly broke in. “We,” he spluttered, coughing on the sand. “We won’t let you.”

Rhei stumbled unsteadily and lifted bleary eyes to look at Pallas. His hair had parted to the side, showcasing his golden eyes and tanned face. Asteria paled, expecting Pallas to give away the game and reveal to Rhei that he had been on the titan’s side in a past life.

Instead, Pallas faltered genuinely for the first time. He stepped backward, off of Alexander. The lazy grin slipped off his face. He shook his head, eyes wide. “It can’t be,” he murmured, aghast.

Alexander pulled himself to his feet next to Asteria and shared a bewildered look with her. The titan continued to back away, shaking his head in disbelief. His eyes darted from Rhei to Asteria and back again. They widened with shocked realization. He looked at her.

“You…” he whispered. He pressed his lips together, dark brows lowering as his eyes seemed unable to drift far from Rhei. They flashed with something resembling fear, and then he was gone in a flash of light.

The three of them tensed, prepared for the titan to reappear elsewhere, but nothing happened.

“What?” Alexander’s voice broke. “What just happened?”

Aerin came tearing back over the crest of the hill, armed with an armful of sharp rocks. He ground to a stop as he saw the trio standing there, bewildered. He scanned their surroundings and then picked his way down the steps of the boundary amphitheater, still cradling the rocks. “I’ve come with reinforcements!” he announced, holding one out. “But I’m really glad to see they weren’t needed because I don’t think they would have done much.” He glanced around again before he closed his eyes and slumped to the ground.

“Don’t worry, Pallas is truly gone,” he informed them. “His presence doesn’t linger here at all.” He snapped open his round, angular eyes. They were bloodshot and looked slightly glazed over. It occurred to Asteria that he had likely been watching them the entire time he was gone, concerned for their safety. “Let me know what injuries you have, and I can treat you.” He broke into his satchel bag, pulling out various tinctures and bandages. “I’m no Apollo, but I’ll see what I can do.”

Asteria shoved Alexander forward. “He’ll be top priority.” Aerin spotted the hole in his shoulder.

“You’re probably right about that. Com’ere, Alex.” Aerin carefully staunched the bleeding and wrapped the wound before turning to the others. He pointed at the blood drenching the length of Asteria’s previously white sleeve. “That needs to be taken care of.”

She shook her head, pushing it up. Her arm had already healed, stitched back together, with only the thick silvery scar down the length of her arm left. Although it had healed, her muscles still ached, and Asteria had a feeling that it hadn’t been a perfect heal due to the low frequency of mageia. She would likely be dealing with phantom pain from stretched and severed ligaments in that arm for a long time, if not forever.

“Huh.” Airen tilted his head owlishly. “Do you think we would be able to learn something like that?”

Asteria shrugged. It was certainly possible, but she’d had centuries to perfect self-healing techniques. Rhei stumbled over, his steps unsteady.

“Can I have some bandages?” he asked. His gloves were still on since he hadn’t had a chance to take them off during the fight, but the high stress had led to them eroding greatly, and the sigils had worn completely away. Aerin hesitated and gave Rhei an apologetic smile. He rolled them over to Rhei over the sand.

“Sorry, friend. You’re radiating way too much mageia to get close to you right now.”

Rhei waved it off with a smile. “I understand.” His voice was a little slurred, and it was kind of pathetic watching him try to wrap his wrist and clean the bloody gash at the side of his head. The bandages drooped sadly from his wrist, ineffective.

Asteria huffed and stomped forward. She snatched the roll of bandages from Rhei’s hand. He recoiled, but he was slower than usual.

“Asteria, what--” She frowned.

“Just stay still, fool. Your mageia will not work on me.”

“Asteria, not that we don’t appreciate the confidence, but why on earth would you think that?” Aerin asked incredulously.

“I just know.” She would not elaborate and approached Rhei, who had tried to struggle away. She batted at his flustered, guarding hands. He flinched, but when a lightning bolt didn’t immediately strike her down, and her skin remained perfectly fine without burning at his touch, he calmed down a little.

His face was flushed, and he stared intently at her with hazy, glazed-over gold eyes while she worked. He looked a little awed, as her fingers continued to brush against his skin without reflecting any damage on her. Aerin and Alexander talked quietly, and occasionally glanced over with naked curiosity in their expressions.

She finished up, and once Alexander was considered recuperated enough, Aerin helped him to his feet.

Alexander limped over to the remains of Kostas’s spear. Rhei followed unsteadily, and she watched him, equally concerned that he would fall over, as she was disgruntled with how incapable she currently felt of seeing him as the same man who had killed her.

Alexander jabbed the end of it into the ground, standing straight up. Rhei took his scarf, embroidered at the end with the beads of the Guard’s vest,s and tied it around the post, completing the makeshift grave. Aerin came up beside him, a bouquet of sea daffodils clutched in his arm; he laid them at the base of the spear. They would not be able to find the deceased soldiers’ bodies, and could only hope that the sands of the desert would be kind enough to bury them.

The three dipped their heads, offering prayers for their peace, and Asteria watched them carefully. Human death was common. Excessive even. They weren’t like immortals. It bewildered her to no end that they continued to mourn the end that was expected for every single one of them. Still, there was something about the sigh that compelled her to step forward.

“May your memory be eternal, αιώνια η μνήμη.” she murmured, reaching to draw her mageia in tight. With a rush of breath, she let it flow out into the desert, seeking the souls of the lost soldiers. When she felt a gentle tug at her core, she was sure they had been found. Aerin’s gaze snapped to her, brows knit. He sensed she had done something but did not know what.

“They will rest in peace,” she promised. “It is not a sad thing that they have lost their lives in defense of their city.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, as the others stiffened. Rhei looked at her, somehow seeming bewildered by her attitude. He shook his head. “It is sad,” Rhei insisted. “Perhaps not for you, but there are many who will mourn them.”

“Kostas submitted his letter of resignation right before he left on this mission,” Alexander said, staring straight at Asteria. “He wanted to get married.” Alexander glanced down at the spearhead he still held in hand. Around the socket in place of the moulding, a loop of golden metal had come loose. Alexander remembered Kostos coming to him, smiling widely as he explained that he’d made the decision to resign. He’d pointed at his spearhead, and admittedly sheepishly, said that while on duty, he’d had this daydream that he could turn the moulding into a ring to give to his girlfriend. He had realized then that a quiet life with his wife was what he wanted. He would never even get the chance to propose.

“Now he never will,” Alexander said bitterly. Alexander gently tugged the gold loop off of the spearhead and held it close to his chest. He met the gaze of his party and turned sharply.

“Come on.” he raised his hand. “It’s time to return to Athens.”