"You're not funny." Troy looks over at Orion who has been quietly weeping in the corner this entire time. "None of this is funny. Orion, I'm sorry. Please talk to me."
Silver grabs Troy's face and turns his head to look at him. "You need to leave him alone. Your attention needs to be on me. Focus on me and stay calm. Don't think about him or what happened earlier. I'm the only person you need. You are exhausted. Lie down with me and try to get some sleep. I'll wake you up when they bring us food."
Contrary to what he would normally do, Troy gives in to Silver and cuddles up in his muscular arms. He just wants someone to hold him and keep him safe. After all, he knows he can trust Silver not to do anything wrong. As the pain slowly fades, Troy closes his eyes and falls asleep against Silver's warm chest.
14
"One snake, two snake, red snake, blue snake!" Paris giggles as his coral snake slithers around his neck to drape across his shoulders. A green grass snake curls around his teacup and a pit viper stretches out along the dining room table, weaving its body through the rose centerpieces. "I love you all so much. Wasn't the fight today simply wonderful? Now that blue-haired bastard is out of the picture. He won't be trying to steal my lovely wife away from me."
A guard steps into the room and bows. "My king, you have a guest. Shall I send him in?"
"Who is it?" Paris unwinds the snake from around his neck. "I'm not expecting visitors."
"He wouldn't give me his name, Sire. Do you want me to lock him in the dungeon?"
Paris sets down his teacup. "No. Send him in. I will talk with this stranger. Though, if my instincts serve me well, I already know who it is."
When the doors open again and the large man with the flowing purple pants enters the room, Paris immediately recognizes him. Oh, this is going to be interesting. He leans back in his chair and places his feet on the table, causing the porcelain tea set to clatter. "Well, well, well . . . look who it is. So tell me, Hector. Are you going to make me crawl on the floor and beg for your scraps? Or can I stay here and enjoy my life?"
Hector chuckles as he slowly walks down the full length of the table and stops beside Paris. In one powerful move, he backhands Paris across the face. "What makes you think you can talk to me that way?"
Paris grins as he wipes away the fresh blood from his busted lip. "Nice to see you too. Care for some tea? Oh! And I have cookies with whipped cream and sprinkles!"
Hector is obviously caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
"Cookies, silly. Everyone loves cookies." Paris leans forward and removes the lid from a tray, revealing a pile of cookies. "Have one."
"No, I don't want any cookies. Wait. What is on those?"
"My secret ingredient, of course!"
"They're moving."
Paris picks up a cookie and pokes the quivering part. "It's just the nerves. Sometimes people continue twitching after they're dead. A little electricity prolongs it."
"Did you say . . . people?"
"You could say I put heart into making them."
"Oh my gods. That red there . . . is that . . ."
"Yep." Paris picks off a chunk and slips it into his mouth. "Dion's blood is sweeter than most. Would you like to try it? It reminds me of a nice sangria."
"I think I'm going to be sick. Don't tell me those chunks are parts of his body."
"His heart. It's my favorite. So, will you be joining me man to man, or would you prefer me on my knees, Master?"
Hector grabs Paris's shoulders and throws him down on the floor. "You are a monster!"
Paris crawls to Hector's legs where he rubs his face against him. "Tell me how bad I've been. Tell me how much you've missed punishing me. You want to punish me, don't you?" His hands move up to Hector's belt and he unbuckles it in one practiced flick of his wrist. "Don't look so surprised. I know why you've come here. Making a deal with Troy? How predictably mundane. Could you really not find another suitable excuse to come back to me?"
Hector's leg muscles tense as Paris's hands tease him. "I need you, Paris."
"I know, I know. Why settle for Troy's future son that might not ever be born when you can have me, the only man you've ever truly wanted? Plus, you can still have Troy's future son. He will never know if you side with me." He looks up at Hector's face and winks at him. "Come to my bedroom with me and punish me like I know you want to so badly."
* * *
"Wake up."
Troy moans as he sits up and rubs his eyes. The sunlight is already hot through the window and the audience is loud. How long has he been asleep? He looks up at Orion who is holding out Troy's gladius to him. "Orion?"
"I spent all night sharpening it on the jagged rocks over there. It's not sharp enough to pierce the armor of those metal archons, but Paris's skin isn't metal. Kill him. This time, forget about the fight and kill him when you're that close. I don't know why you didn't do that yesterday."
Silver comes over and helps Troy to his feet. "He didn't kill Paris because the guards would have killed him as well. Olympus needs a king and that king will be Troy. While I admire your gusto, Orion, I don't think taking a radical approach is the best thing here. We will play the game."
"Thank you for sharpening my gladius, Orion."
Orion embraces Troy and holds him close. "I know you did everything you could for Dion. I thank you for that. Whatever happens from here on, know that you have my full and undying support." He reaches up and takes Troy's septum ring in his fingers. There is a click and it comes off in his hand. "I'm letting you go. You've earned your freedom."
"It was never actually permanent, was it?"
"No. If something happens to me, I don't want anyone trying to make you die with me. No king should be a slave."
Troy stares into the eyes of his dear friend as the realization of this moment dawns on him. For the first time since meeting six years ago, they stand before each other as equals.
"Save us, Troy. That's my final order as your owner. Save as many people as you can. Make me proud."
Troy's stomach growls and he realizes just how famished he is. "Not to ruin this moment, but did they bring us any food? I'm starving."
"This is for you." Blice kicks a bowl of grey oatmeal that slides to a stop at Troy's feet. "If you have a weak stomach, it might be best if you don't eat it."
Gabriel sets down the pile of Troy's power armor in the middle of the floor. "He doesn't have time to eat it. Get your armor on before the guards get here. We let you sleep too late. I'm afraid that they might punish you if you aren't ready in time."
Troy pulls his armor on with everyone's help in record time. His arms are already sore and the thought of fighting again today is miserable. But he will do what he has to do. When the door to the cell slides open, he hears the words he didn't want to hear.
"Today we need Troy and Orion."
Orion grabs onto Troy's arm. "If Ego do not survive hoy, Ego will not blame te. If te fail, te must defend my family en Delphi. Parakalo, Kirios Troy."
Nymphetic, the language of the tribal Nymphs. Troy smiles as tears fill his eyes and he takes Orion's hand. "I will. I will protect your family. I promise."
Troy is in his own world mentally as he follows the guards into the arena. Today, he isn't phased by the crowds or the bright sunlight. None of it matters. He keeps his eyes focused on his friend who is lead into the back of the arena by Paris. There is one thing different that Troy notices today. A large screen against the far wall with some sort of live feed video footage playing. What is Orion's fear that Paris could be using to manipulate him? Troy can't think of any phobias Orion has. Then it hits him. His family. No, that can't be it. Even Paris wouldn't be that cruel.
When the metal archon jumps towards Troy, he realizes this fight must have already started. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear Paris's egotistical speech. That doesn't matter. Troy draws his gladius and rolls to the side, avoiding the razor sharp edge of the archon's wings. Before he has time to retaliate, the archon k
icks him in the stomach, causing him to stumble backwards. He touches the middle of his stomach where the archon's steel-clad foot left a jagged dent in his armor. How strong are these things?
Troy slips between the legs of the archon and jumps onto its back, holding onto the smooth side of the wings for dear life. When the archon leaps into the air, Troy immediately questions his decisions. His slick metal gauntlets begin to slip from the wings so he tightens his legs around the archon's waist. The farther up they go, the more Troy begins to panic. This is the one thing he hates more than snakes. The true panic hits him when the archon's wings stop moving. They're not flying anymore. They're falling straight down to the ground. He screams as the sand of the arena approaches quickly.
The impact throws Troy twenty feet across the arena where he slides to a stop against the concrete wall in a cloud of dust. In a fit of coughing, he tries to stand, but the archon dives on him, pinning him down. Troy kicks at the heavy archon and struggles to squirm out from under its weight, but nothing he does even budges it. The first punch strikes across his forehead, followed shortly by three more to his mouth, chin, and neck. He tastes blood and screams, but nothing helps.
Through his frantic fighting, Troy looks past the wings of the archon to see the screen. For a few seconds, he doesn't feel the blows from the archon. He doesn't feel the heart of the sun or the scratching of the sand on his face. All Troy knows in these few seconds of his isolated reality is pure terror. The village he loved is in flames and the villagers are being slaughtered one after another as the metal archons unleash hell on the innocent people. Then a little boy runs across the river, trying to escape the sword of an archon that easily catches him. Babu.
Orion screams from the other side of the arena, his absolute desperation filling his hoarse voice. "Stop it, please! That's my son! He's my son. He's only five. You can't do this. Have mercy!"
Troy clenches his eyes tightly closed when the boy's blood splatters on the attacking archon's armor and Babu falls to the desert sand pale and motionless. Troy is soon jolted back to his own fight when the archon picks him up with ease and hurls him full force against the concrete wall of the arena. Troy clutches his side and coughs up blood. Not his ribs again. Just before the archon sets his attention to him again, Troy screams at Orion. "Stop! Don't do it. That's what he wants! Orion, stop!"
"You bastard!" Orion runs at Paris with a glaze of vengeance in his eyes. "I'm going to kill you!"
Paris simply holds up his hand and smiles. "That's not how we play this game, Orion. Bye bye!"
Orion drops to his knees as the cloud of nanobots eats into his skin, spotting the sand below him with bright crimson like parched ground absorbing the first sprinkles of rainfall. His cries are soon ended when Paris draws a dagger from his hip and stabs Orion repeatedly in the back.
Paris giggles as he rubs Orion's blood over his face. "And we have another winner! Archons: two. My gladiator: zero. Come back tomorrow for another exciting battle. Will my gladiator finally be able to win a fight, or will his friends continue dying because of him?"
* * *
"Let's get that armor off and check out your injuries. I saw that hit you took to your chest when you slammed into the wall. Turn around and put your hands on the wall." Silver holds him steady there as he begins to remove Troy's armor. "Stop trembling. Let me get this off of you then we will talk and discuss everything."
Troy can barely remain standing as his sheer exhaustion and emotional agony merge to create a mind-shattering helplessness. "Orion! They killed everyone in the village. They're dead!"
"Shh." Silver tosses Troy's cuirass on the floor then begins unlatching his cuisses. "I'm here to take care of you. You wouldn't have survived that fall without this armor."
The hot tears streak down his cheeks. "Don't you think I know that? There are many reasons I love my armor. Though now it's getting all beat up. And I'm losing all my friends!"
"Calm down. You did all you could. You're gonna have to come to terms with the truth. You can't defeat those archons. Paris made it so you wouldn't win a single fight."
Troy slams his gauntleted fists against the wall. "I have to win! I have to. There has to be a way. I can't . . . I can't lose anyone else. I have to save Nova."
Silver holds out his hand. "Gauntlets. I don't want you punching anyone with those on."
Troy sighs and removes his gauntlets. "I'm not going to fight anyone. I'm just completely broken."
"No. You aren't broken. You are stronger than I've ever seen you. You have grown so much since you were a kid. Your father would be proud."
"No father would be proud of a son like me." Troy rubs his side and lifts up his t-shirt to reveal a growing black bruise from his armpit to his hip on the left side. That's not the only thing that hurts. Every muscle is aching from going so long without swinging his sword or doing any of this physical stuff he used to do on a daily basis. He's just not cut out for it anymore.
"Take your shirt off and lie down on the floor."
Troy turns to look at Silver. "What? Why?"
"Just do it. You're not used to this anymore, right? I see how stiff you are. Let me help."
Troy once again gives in to Silver. Why? He has no idea why. Maybe he simply doesn't have enough energy to argue. He lies down on his stomach and slips his shirt off. This is beyond awkward. When Silver sits on his butt and runs his hands down his spine, it becomes more awkward.
"How does that feel?"
"Weird."
"Just relax. I know what I'm doing."
When Silver's fingers dig into his shoulders, Troy sighs and closes his eyes. This feels wonderful. "Silver . . . that's amazing. Don't stop."
"I'm gonna take care of you. Whatever happens, know that I trust you and I want to help. Whoever you have to fight for next, please do whatever you can to win. I know that goes without saying, but it's down to me, Blice, and Gabriel."
"I will do what I can." Troy moans in pleasure. "You have magic hands."
"You're not the first man to tell me that."
Blice snickers from the corner. "Yeah, be careful not to fall for his charms, Troy. He told me last night that he's attracted to you."
Troy is enjoying this too much to question it. But he has to know. "Silver, do you like me?"
"Not like that. Don't listen to a creepy old man like him."
"Sure, Silver. That's not what you told me last night when we were watching him sleep."
Okay . . . that's odd. "You were watching me sleep? Yes, you two are creepy."
"I said you had a cute butt and Silver agreed."
"Whoa, whoa." Troy looks over at Blice. "You? Are you attracted to me, Blice?"
"Are you genuinely surprised? You didn't see it coming?"
"I thought you hated me."
Blice shrugs his shoulders. "I pick on the people I like."
"I didn't know you were gay. What about Clara?"
"I'm bi."
"Oh."
"Though, all the times I was with a man, I was Miss Lavender . . ."
"Miss Lavender?" Troy asks as he remembers stumbling upon some pictures online a few years ago. "You mean that model on the internet with the ice cream and miniskirts?"
"Oh dear God. Have those videos gone all across the galaxy? I knew I should have killed Isidore before he uploaded those."
"All right. I don't want to know any more. Actually, one more question. Have you two been a thing?"
Silver roars with laughter. "Oh, hell no. He's not my type."
"Silver isn't my type either. He's too . . . feminine."
Silver stops laughing and stands up. "What did you say, pretty boy? How about I come over there and beat you to a pulp then tell me how feminine I am."
"I meant that you're submissive in relationships. Besides that, you're the most manly man I know."
Silver's eyes narrow as he glares at Blice. "I'm watching you."
"Go back to rubbing your boy toy." Gabriel says.
"You too?
Gabriel, that's not what is going on here." Silver goes back to Troy and resumes massaging his lower back. "For your information, I am never going to be involved with anyone else ever again. I made my mind up on that a while ago."
"I will never understand people like you." Blice says as he runs his fingers through his greasy black bangs. "You're one of those religious types that won't have sex outside of marriage."
"What's it to you? I have my beliefs and you have yours. Sure, I've been tempted at times, but I keep thinking of my husband."
"He's dead. For Christ's sake, move on."
"Don't you think I've tried?" Silver asks. "A few years ago, I wanted to get married again, but I just couldn't find the right man. Jayce made me who I am today. We got together when we were fourteen. From that moment, I swore that I would do it right. I would be with one man and one man only. I guess God wants me to honor that."
"I could never set rules for myself like that. I have too much love to go around."
"When you give all of your love to someone, you can't get it back."
"Well said, Silver." Gabriel watches the sky through the narrow window. "I wish I could understand your human love. But while it seems wonderful, it also seems like chains that forever connect you to someone and won't let you move on."
"There are different kinds of love."
"And your love for Jayce was a pure love, wasn't it?" Gabriel asks. "You two only had each other. That's the way it should be. Some animals mate for life and don't look for anyone else after their mate dies. Isn't it that way with you?"
"Yes. I had love and I lost it. No relationship I can have will ever be on that level. It's not worth trying anymore. My heart will always belong to Jayce."
Troy is finally able to relax and clear his mind as he listens to them continue talking about relationships. The best thing for his sanity is to forget all he can about Orion and Dion. He has to distance himself from the reality of his situation. If he doesn't, he is sure he won't stand a chance in the future fights. Everyone depends on him to fight and to somehow find a way to win. His mind drifts to his own romantic endeavors and specifically to Nova.
Paradise Forgotten Trilogy Page 55
