"I love you like a brother, Athan," she said, "and I always will. But if you hurt Erasmus again, I'll kill you."
Athanasius closed his eyes, his head dropping down. He knew she meant it, and it broke his heart. Erasmus got to his feet. He stood a few metres behind Aella, looking disgruntled and about as furious as she was.
All he could do was nod his head silently. Aella turned and stalked back to camp, Erasmus following behind her. Athan stood for what felt like hours, hating himself for stooping so low as to pick a fight with Aella's love.
Finally he wandered back to the camp. Kerberos was in his tent as Athan passed; he waved and called him in. At least there's someone in this endless desert who wants to speak with me, he thought, ducking under the open tent flap. He sat next to Kerberos, and they were silent for a time. Kerberos was a very quiet man, and Athan was used to stretches of comfortable silence in his presence. They sat for a while, until Kerberos turned his gaze directly to Athan and finally spoke:
"You seem tense, Athanasius."
He lowered his gaze, frowning. He didn't know how to discuss the topic of Aella with his mentor. Kerberos was a solitary person, much like Athan. But where Athan's solitude came from his inability to fit in, Kerberos' came from a genuine apathy towards other people; he simply didn't want or need the company of others. Athan did. He envied Kerberos. He hesitated, trying to find words to make him understand how he felt.
"I beat Erasmus today, in a sparring match," he began, "and Aella defended him. She was furious at me. I feel as though I've destroyed the friendship. After all these years of hoping we would still be friends, I ruined everything by giving in to pride."
Kerberos looked at him with a frowning, confused expression, though not unkindly. Athan knew he didn't understand, but he'd always been there when Athan felt lonely, and that was all he could ask for. He seemed to think about it for a while, and they lapsed back into silence.
"Why did you fight Erasmus, if you knew it would upset Aella?" Kerberos finally asked, his intense stare holding Athan's gaze. This was always how conversations with Kerberos went, Athan knew; pure logic, no trace of emotion at all. He hadn't expected any different, but it still exasperated him that Kerberos seemed to have absolutely no understanding of the dynamics of friendship.
"I... wanted to hurt him," he replied, "I tried to treat him well, as Aella would want. But he was so aggressive, and I could tell he wanted to hurt me too." Athan was frowning, thinking about what he'd done and trying to justify it. Explaining things to Kerberos could be therapeutic, if only because it forced him to look at things in the disconnected, impartial way Kerberos looked at everything.
"I... I don't know why I fought him. I wasn’t thinking clearly." Admitting it made him so ashamed he couldn't meet Kerberos' eyes. He heard a quiet but exasperated sigh from his mentor.
"Athanasius, you must learn to control your emotions," he said, gently but sternly, "they are powerful, but they are chaotic and can not be trusted. You must remain in control. Think before you act." Athan nodded, head down. He always felt this way whenever Kerberos corrected him; humbled. Stripped down. Inferior. Kerberos suddenly gave a short, sharp chuckle, and Athan almost fell over from shock.
"You fought well, I will grant you that. Until Aella stepped in and beat you easily." Oh no, Athan thought to himself. He was watching the whole time! He glanced at the massive warrior, terrified, but there seemed to be genuine good humour in those deadly eyes.
"You have obviously paid attention to my lessons when we spar. I am pleased at how much progress you have made." This much praise was almost as shocking as the laugh. Athan stared for a moment, unsure how to respond.
"But that match is the perfect example of why you must remain clear-headed when fighting. You were so blinded by pride and victory, you were unaware of Aella approaching you. She made no effort to hide, and took your weapon and knocked you down without trying."
Athanasius knew what Kerberos wanted to hear. He desperately wanted to please his mentor. He finally met that intimidating gaze.
"I will do better. I will be better." Kerberos only nodded slightly.
They made love that night. Kerberos was distant and cold, but he often was of late, and Athan was accustomed to his moodiness. He didn't say a word while he lay behind Athan, holding his hips and thrusting gently. Athan remembered a time when their lovemaking hurt; now it felt incredible, even when Kerberos wasn't emotionally present.
He moaned and rocked his hips against Kerberos, and smiled as the huge warrior let out a low grunt in response. Pleasing Kerberos wasn't always an easy task. He lived for the moments when the tribe's leader displayed satisfaction in him. It wasn't purely sexual either; Kerberos' approval meant everything to him in battle, hunting, and tactics as well as lovemaking. Praise from Kerberos was incredibly rare, however; he often completely ignored Athan's improvements, focusing instead on his weaknesses and pushing him to rise above them.
When they finished, Kerberos rolled over and went to sleep. Athan lay awake, still thinking about his fight with Erasmus. The only people he'd grown close to in his life possessed such control over their emotions; Aella and Kerberos had that much in common, if nothing else. He wanted to be able to think rationally instead of letting himself be provoked into rash decisions. But Erasmus offered the challenge; they wouldn't have fought in the first place if Dakesh or Aella accepted Athan's invitation instead. He decided it was just as much Erasmus' fault as his own. He knew Aella would never see it that way, and he still hated himself for it. He only hoped she would forgive him; but with their friendship already so thin, it seemed unlikely. He didn't sleep well.
Dakesh
Two weeks later, they left the Heart of Sithares and ventured again into the desert. Dakesh was accustomed to the brutal heat and inhospitable land of Omas by now; memories of the cool green forests of Shanaken and his comfortable old life there were few and far between. Aella was absolutely silent as they travelled, brooding over Erasmus' battle against the warrior who asked them to spar. Dakesh wandered over to a different group of warriors he occasionally practised Fire Magic with. They talked and laughed and threw fireballs at each other as they marched, and Dakesh forgot Shanaken a little more; the desert felt like home to him now.
He was becoming powerful, he felt it. After the festival, journeying through the desert seemed somehow easier. At first he was terrified of the gigantic volcano, but after spending weeks camped on the plateau, he felt magic filling his body like sunlight filling the desert sky. It was as Aella said: their magic was most powerful at Sitharkos. He felt renewed. He marched through the desert with his fellow Thearans, feeling the sun's heat and drawing strength from it.
Though Sithares' voice remained quiet since arriving at the foot of the volcano, he felt a deep connection with the God now. He sparred against a new warrior every day of the journey. Dakesh won every battle. Thearans cheered and embraced him after each victory. Kerberos smiled and nodded a respectful greeting whenever they crossed paths. If only the Duulshen could see me now, he thought bitterly. They'd know how powerful I could have been if they'd only recognised my potential. With Sithares on my side, I'll be more powerful than all of them combined.
The thought, instead of giving him satisfaction, left him feeling empty and furious. Why did they refuse him his Kaizuun? They had no right; he was one of their best warriors. He'd proven himself over and over, done everything they demanded. What was he missing? Why wasn't he good enough for them? Growing more frustrated, he left the camp to perform his Zuunshai alone. He used it not only to practice, but to meditate. It centred his thoughts and feelings, and he usually found he was at peace after finishing the blade dance.
This time, however, his heart was still racing, his mind still clouded with bitterness. He let his sword fall to the ground carelessly. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes. Instead of trying to remain calm, centred and passive as the Zuunshai demanded, he focused on his hate. He pictured the council of Duulshen, e
very wrinkled face, as they stared at him with their judging, condescending eyes. He imagined himself there now with his Kaizuun and his Fire Magic, and as their faces continued judging, he used all of his power against them.
As their ancient faces turned to shock and terror, they melted away under a wave of fire. It rose, covering everything, covering his vision. He screamed, feeling his rage burst from within like a volcano erupting. When the fire cleared, the Duulshen disappeared and he was staring into the face of a Thearan warrior. His name was Sotiris. Dakesh practised Fire Magic with him occasionally. The warrior looked at him, terrified.
"What happened, Dakesh?" he asked. Dakesh shook his head. "I was trying to meditate, but it didn't work – your guess is as good as mine."
"You exploded, Dakesh. Kerberos thought we were being attacked."
Dakesh sat on the sand, thinking about the Zuunshai. The blade dance used to centre him, and made him feel powerful, in control. It had always calmed him down; but not this time. This time, rage made him feel powerful. Fire Magic centred him. The Kaizuun was everything he'd ever wanted. Fire Magic gave him more than he ever dreamed he could have.
"I was practising, Sotiris, that's all." He tried to look reassuring. Sotiris clearly didn't believe him, but he left the matter alone nonetheless. They walked back to camp together, and Kerberos approached them as they arrived at Dakesh's tent.
"That was you?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Are you in control of your powers?"
He hesitated for barely a second, but it was enough. He saw doubt in Kerberos' eyes as he replied to the leader.
"Yes, I am in control." Kerberos walked away.
"Keep practising, Shenza," he called over his shoulder, "and never lie to me again."
Losing Kerberos' trust effected Dakesh more than he expected. He tried to come up with ways to repair the broken trust as they marched south. Nothing occurred to him. He felt isolated as he marched, surrounded by thousands of fellow warriors. Kerberos no longer respected him, Aella and Erasmus withdrew from the tribe since Sitharkos, and Sithares' voice was completely silent. All he could do was practice controlling his Fire Magic as he walked.
Sand dunes rose and fell endlessly, soft yet steep and dangerous. The desert moved like an ocean, waves rippling and crashing together. Wind battered the Thearans as they trudged over the dunes, the sand stinging their skin and eyes. Animals disappeared during the day, leaving the dry grey landscape empty and lifeless but for the howling wind. The few trees and clumps of dry red grass in the distance shimmered, completing the illusion of a burning, ash-filled wasteland.
The dunes shrank the longer they marched. The wind calmed, and the ground became harder beneath their feet. When the mountains were in clear view, sand turned to dirt, then to grass. Proper, living grass, not the dry, skeletal grass of the desert. When they reached a river at the mountains' feet, they set up camp. Dakesh saw trees close to the river on their side, and thousands more on the opposite bank. They were nothing like Shanaken, but they lifted his spirits anyway.
Athanasius
During the trip south, Kerberos walked with Athan. He found the powerful man's presence comforting The dunes of the Omati desert were massive, especially out in the centre, and the tribe never ended up conforming to a single file formation as they meant to. They were always in sight of each other, however, and Athan found that comforting too, even though he didn't particularly enjoy talking to most of them. The journey was brutal, but a thousand generations of travelling through the desert had made the Thearans experts when it came to traversing the impossible terrain.
They sparred each evening after setting up camp, then hunted in the twilight before sunset and at dawn. The rest of the time they walked. Though he was still distant, Kerberos remained by Athan's side for almost the entire journey, and despite the silence Athan felt them growing even closer. After almost a week, Kerberos finally spoke.
"Athan. Do you know where we are heading?" Athan shook his head.
"We are going to the southern mountains, and travelling up the Alpheus. From there we will attack the farmlands along the river until we reach Omatus." Athan was silent for a moment. They'd never attacked farmland before; Thearans usually only engaged in battle with worthy foes, other seasoned armies who could provide a challenge. He trusted Kerberos' judgement, however, and if Kerberos believed this to be their best course of action, he would gladly follow his leader into battle. All he felt at that moment was lucky; lucky to have Kerberos discussing his plans with him, and to have him break the silence of the last week.
"And when we reach Omatus..." Athan knew the answer before Kerberos replied, but he wanted to hear it directly from the war leader.
"We burn everything, and take it for the glory of Sithares." He nodded, and oddly enough, he didn't feel any fear or apprehension about the battles to come. He knew nothing would be able to hurt him while Kerberos remained by his side.
"Why are we attacking farmlands? Would it not please Sithares more to wage war against full armies?"
Kerberos seemed to think for a moment before answering.
"Something has changed, Athan. At the festival, Sithares spoke to me directly."
Of course, he thought, that was no fire demon, that was Sithares itself!
"Sithares wants us to burn the fertile lands to the south to punish the Omati for their lack of worship. They have ignored the God of Fire for too long, and have grown fat and lazy. They wage no wars, they burn no sacrifices, and they have even forgotten their God's name. They do not deserve the great city they dwell in. We will burn what can be burned, and build a new city for Sithares. The Omati's time is over."
Kerberos' passion was unnerving. By the time he spoke the last word, his fists were clenched and his teeth bared. Athan had no idea how to respond. Kerberos was given direct orders from the God of Fire, and shared those orders with him. He felt honoured beyond words.
Kerberos watched him intently. He needed to respond; to show his loyalty and his appreciation to his leader for sharing this with him.
"I will do anything I can to serve you and Sithares." It felt stiff and formal, and Athan didn't think it was enough, but Kerberos smiled and put his hand on Athan's shoulder.
"I already have a plan for you."
Aella
Two days after Erasmus and Athan fought, the tribe packed up and headed back down the giant volcano. Aella was so furious with Athanasius that she was still shaking. Even worse, she knew she would have to see him almost every day now she was part of Kerberos' small command group; Athan was never too far from Kerberos these days. He was heeding her warning, at least; he kept his distance from her and Erasmus as much as possible.
The journey down Sitharkos was far easier than the walk to the top. The maddening feeling of impending doom disappeared entirely, as well as the low whispering sound that was almost a voice. As they walked down the volcano's side, Aella became more and more convinced the sounds were merely a temporary lapse in her sanity; perhaps the sheer power of her Fire Blades somehow affected her mind. With that thought, it was pushed from her mind and she quickly forgot about it.
Kerberos led them south from Sitharkos, straight through the middle of the desert. The journey was long and brutal, but otherwise uneventful. Almost directly south of Sitharkos, on the coast, was another large mountain range. From these mountains flowed the beginnings of the Alpheus, the largest river in Omas. They skirted around the mountains, finally meeting the Alpheus at the mountain’s feet. They set up camp next to the river. That night, Kerberos spoke to his small group of commanders.
"We are heading towards Omatus," he said, "but first we will attack Mara."
The other commanders nodded at this, as though the plan was obvious. Aella glanced around her, realised nobody else would say anything, and decided to speak.
"With all due respect, Kerberos, why are we attacking such a small city? They are all but defenceless." She was a pure-blooded Thearan, and enjoyed war as mu
ch as any of them, but she hated the idea of attacking such a peaceful city. The people of Mara were Omati, not Thearan like most of the settled cities along the west coast and out in the desert. They had an army just like every city in Omas, but it was an army in name only; their entire population was smaller than Kerberos' tribe, and only a fraction of that was dedicated to defence. Several faces turned to her in shock when she spoke. They'd apparently never seen their leader questioned. Kerberos smiled. He looked genuinely amused.
"During the Fire Festival, I spoke with Sithares. We are to be protected in battle from now on, and to serve our God in return, we must spread the fire wherever we can."
Aella suddenly remembered the feeling of dread that had come over her at Sitharkos. What was this protection Sithares offered? What had it cost? Perhaps the feeling should not have been so easily discarded.
"What have you done?" she asked quietly. It was barely even a whisper, and none of the commanders heard her. But Kerberos was still staring intently at her with that amused smile on his face, and saw her speak. His smile vanished, but his eyes remained on her. One of the commanders, a woman Aella did not know, shifted in her seat as if uncomfortable at the sudden silence.
"They'll be easy to kill. It wouldn't even take many of us. I could take a small group and wipe them out myself."
Kerberos slowly turned his gaze from Aella to the warrior who had spoken. His smile returned.
"I like this idea. I will select the warriors. You will leave our camp when we are a day away from the city."
"Yes, my lord."
Aella stared at the ground of the tent in front of her with no idea what to do.
Gods and Heroes- Rise of Fire Page 20
