Desire (Legends of the Kilanor Book 3)

by Jared Stone

Lucian nodded. “I’m sure, Grandpa,” he said.

  Grandpa Aarden sighed, then bent down to open up the center drawer of his desk. “Alright then,” he said, rummaging around inside for something. “Well, if there ever is, I hope you know you can come to me with it….”

  Finally locating what he was looking for, he shut the drawer again and walked back around the desk to stand by Lucian. Reaching out, he grabbed the boy’s hand and placed something into the center of his palm.

  “This is something I always used to carry with me,” his grandfather explained, closing his grandson’s fingers around the object. “It always kept me safe, no matter what was happening. I want you to have it now. Wear it or keep it with you at all times, and it’ll be sure to bring you good luck.”

  Letting go of his grandson’s hand, Grandpa Aarden stepped back. Opening his fingers once again, Lucian looked down at his palm. There, in the center, was a silver ring. The band was so light and reflective that it seemed almost white, and, engraved upon the outside, a symbol that looked like a blazing sun was contrasted in black.

  “Wow,” Lucian said, gazing at the beautiful gift he had just received. “This is great, Grandpa.”

  Grandpa Aarden chuckled. “I thought you might like it,” he said. “It’s been handed down through our family for generations. Your father never needed it, and so I held onto it. But it seems like something that might do you some good someday….”

  Lucian picked up the shining ring with his thumb and forefinger. It was unusually light for something that seemed so solidly constructed of metal. He carefully slid it onto his right ring finger, surprised that it effortlessly made it past the knuckle, all the way to the base.

  “It’s a perfect fit!” Lucian announced, marveling at his new piece of jewelry. “Thanks, Grandpa!”

  Grandpa Aarden smiled. “Merry Christmas, kiddo,” he said, laying his hand on Lucian’s back. “Now, come on. Let’s get back to that dessert they were talking about.”

  Just then, Lucian felt something vibrating in his pocket. Reaching in and pulling out his phone, he saw that it was Sam calling. His heart skipped a beat.

  “Sorry, Grandpa, but I’ve gotta take this before I do,” Lucian said hurriedly. “You go ahead. Mind if I use the office?”

  His grandfather waved his hand through the air in affirmation. “Of course!” he said. “Take your time. We’ll just be out there!” With this, he stepped out of the office and closed the door behind him.

  Lucian looked back down at his phone. Taking a deep breath to calm his fluttering nerves, he pressed the Accept button. “Hello,” he said.

  “Hey, Lucian!” Sam’s voice greeted him from the other end. “Merry Christmas!”

  Lucian had been so excited to receive a call from Sam that he had momentarily forgotten it was even Christmas – and he couldn’t think of any gift he’d rather receive than the chance to talk to his crush.

  “Oh!” Lucian exclaimed. “Merry Christmas to you, too!”

  “Did you do anything special today?” Sam asked.

  “I’m just at my grandparents’ house right now for Christmas dinner,” Lucian said. “Having a relaxing time with the family, that’s all. What about you?”

  “Oh, I didn’t go home this year,” Sam responded. “I just stayed here on campus. Christmas was never a big thing for me anyway.”

  “Oh,” Lucian said, somehow overcome by sadness that Sam hadn’t been able to share in the joys of the Christmas season like he had. “That’s too bad.”

  “Eh,” Sam grunted dismissively. “It’s fine. How was that party earlier this week?”

  Lucian was confused for a second, until he realized that that had been the excuse he had given to Sam for not being available on the night they stormed the villains’ mansion to rescue Lilly. Reminded of that night, he became even more depressed. “It was pretty disappointing…,” he said.

  “Oh, that’s a real shame,” Sam said sympathetically. “You should’ve come over to spend time with me instead! When are you coming back here, anyway?”

  Lucian paused for a moment as he tried to remember his schedule. “I’ll be back on the night of January 11th,” he finally said. “I start classes the next day.”

  “Okay, well, I’d love to see you that week then,” Sam said. “I miss you.”

  Lucian felt those familiar butterflies which had taken residence in his stomach come fluttering back again in an inconvenient flurry of activity. “I miss you, too,” he confessed, leaning against the desk to better support his giddy self. “We can definitely hang out when I’m back.”

  “Good,” Sam stated joyfully. “Well, have a good night, and Merry Christmas again!”

  “Merry Christmas, Sam,” Lucian said dreamily in return. “Bye.”

  Lucian hung up the phone and just paused there in his grandfather’s study for a moment, trying to collect himself again before he rejoined his family. The last thing he wanted to do was have them all believe something was wrong again and launch into a discussion about school, or, worse, his love life. As he waited, he held out his hand and once again inspected his new ring. It was really a very thoughtful gift from his grandfather. He only wished that the silver metal didn’t clash so much with the golden chain around his neck….

  Lucian suddenly had a realization. There was still someone else he would very much like to speak with on this holiday. Reaching into his sweater collar, he pulled out the crystal which hung around his neck. Placing it between his thumb and fingers, he focused his thoughts on one of the only other people he knew who also possessed one.

  Dareia? he asked, picturing the tall golden priestess in her estate in Rome. Dareia, can you hear me?

  Lucian stood in silence while waiting for a response. About a minute passed without anything, and Lucian was considering sending another mental message right before he experienced the priestess’ thoughts in his own head.

  Lucian? they said, with an air of concern that Lucian could sense instead of hear. Lucian? Is everything alright?

  Lucian once again focused his thoughts upon the priestess. Everything’s fine, he assured her. I just wanted to say Merry Christmas!

  There was another lag in response before Lucian experienced the priestess’ thoughts again. That is most kind of you, Lucian, they said. It has been many ages since I have celebrated any such holidays, but I am touched that I am in your thoughts during this special time of year for you.

  Lucian smiled. It was so obvious that Dareia was trying to be thoughtful, even though the holiday meant absolutely nothing to her, having lived long before the establishment of Christian traditions. Of course, he thought back. I was hoping that maybe I could talk to Willow, too? Is she available?

  It is very late in Rome right now, Lucian, the priestess thought with reservation clearly apparent. She is sleeping right now.

  Lucian realized that he hadn’t even considered the time difference between the two countries. It had never been something he had to factor in when calling friends before. Oh! Sorry! Lucian thought. I completely forgot! Do you think you could have her contact me tomorrow?

  There was a longer than usual pause in response this time, and Lucian thought he might have lost the connection until he experienced Dareia’s thoughts once again entering his mind. Lucian…, they began, it has not been long since she lost her entire family to the malice of Ini-herit. She is still in a very fragile state and is only gradually adapting to her new life here. I do not think it is wise yet for you to speak with her and disrupt this process.

  Lucian was, at first, very disappointed by this, but he understood. It had only been about a week since Willow’s parents and sister were killed in their home, and he couldn’t imagine ever getting over something like that if it had happened to him. He resolved to give her all the time she needed.

  I completely understand, he thought to Dareia. Tell her to contact me whenever the time is right.

  Thank you for your understanding, Lucian, Dareia’s thoughts expressed in his hea
d. I wish you and your family the most pleasant of holidays.

  Thanks, Dareia, Lucian thought in return. Dropping the crystal from his fingers, he let out a sigh.

  Guess I should go enjoy my family while they’re still with me, Lucian somberly thought to himself. Walking over to the office door, he stepped out to rejoin everyone for dessert in the kitchen.

  3 - Spark

  815 BCE: Greece

  Argos wiped the sweat from his brow as he raised his hammer one final time and drove the last wooden peg into the slot in the support beam. Leaning back and examining his work proudly, he smiled.

  “It is finished!” he announced, putting his palms down on the ground and pushing off to stand up. He brushed both hands against one another, letting the dust and debris fly off in a dirty cloud. “The food trough is finally ready to use!”

  “It looks wonderful!” Io said, coming up to the man’s side and laying her hand upon his bare arm. “Now we simply need animals to eat from it,” she added playfully.

  Argos laughed. “That shall come in time!” he assured the priestess, smiling at her brightly. “Just look at everything we have already accomplished in such a short period!”

  As he said this, he motioned with his hand across the arid landscape. Aside from the scraggly tree that had stood there from the beginning, there were now also several crudely-constructed structures. Argos and Io had both labored together to erect a storage bin for grain, a few holding pens for domesticated animals, a well for fresh water – though the water within was never particularly abundant or clean – and even a single-room stone temple with an altar inside. The temple, as meager and slightly askew as it might have been, was a testament to their determination and devotion to the Mother Goddess, and Argos took great pride in this building specifically.

  “It is all truly remarkable,” Io attested softly, rubbing her hand against Argos’ warm flesh. She looked up into his eyes as he smiled down at her. “Now, come,” she then said with a beckoning gesture. “You have finished a hard day of work and deserve something to eat!”

  Argos was overjoyed by the mention of food, as his stomach had been growling for hours now and could not wait much longer to be satisfied. As the priestess led him over to the steadfast tree under which he had first met her in human form, he noticed that she had laid out a few wooden bowls of delicious fare. He saw that she had ground down some grains and baked them by the fire to make a flat bread, and beside that lay a couple of figs, a handful of fresh olives, and even two cooked fishes. He was astonished.

  “Io!” he exclaimed, turning to her. “This is such a feast you have laid out for us! Where did you get all of this delicious food!?”

  The priestess smiled lightly. “I have traveled to the nearby villages over the past two days, where both farmers and fishermen come to trade their produce,” she explained. “Although I did not possess much with which to barter, I was able to exchange a few trinkets left with us by traveling worshippers to our temple. I felt it only appropriate that we should cook something special to commemorate this occasion.”

  Argos looked at her in confusion. “What occasion?” he asked.

  Io glanced off to the side bashfully. “It might seem foolish,” she admitted softly, “but I have been watching the progression of stars in the sky, as is an important component of my divine office as High Priestess. It has been exactly one year since we arrived here together to begin our new life as partners in this endeavor.”

  Argos’ eyes grew wide. He could not imagine how a year had already flown by. Before he had come to live on the temple grounds with the priestess, it seemed that life crept by, in a never-ending cycle of waking and sleep. But, now that he was with her every day, it felt as if the weeks and months simply flew by faster than he could enjoy them in their entirety. He stood there in silence, looking stunned.

  “I realize that it is simply foolish sentimentality,” Io repeated, as if ashamed by her vulnerability.

  “No!” Argos insisted, grabbing onto her arms and causing her to look into his grateful brown eyes. “I think it is wonderful! So very thoughtful. I only wish that I had known, so I could have done something special for you!”

  Io shook her head, sending the curly brunette locks which framed her tan face swaying back and forth with it. “You have done more than enough,” she countered. “You uprooted your life to stay here with me. To protect me and assist me in building these temple grounds. Some food for your efforts is certainly the least I can do to repay such kindness.”

  Argos smiled. He truly did not know what he had ever done to deserve such good fortune in his life.

  “Wait right here,” he instructed the priestess gently. “I must go to the well to rinse off first. It would be a disservice to such a wonderful feast to eat it with dirty hands!”

  Taking a few more seconds to gaze into Io’s eyes with deep appreciation, the man then hurried over to where the well stood and grabbed onto the rope attached to the bucket hanging within. He yanked up with all his might, trying to finish this task as quickly as he was able. He could not wait to get back to stand by the priestess’ side, as every moment he spent apart from her now seemed to tear his heart in two.

  “I shall be right there!” he called back to her over his shoulder. “This rope is just very long and I –”

  Argos was silenced immediately as he turned around and beheld the priestess standing only arm’s-length away. Their eyes locked.

  “Io,” Argos began, “I thought you were –”

  The man would not get the opportunity to say any more, as Io reached up, grabbed onto the back of his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss. As their lips made contact, Argos felt a tingling sensation surge through his entire body. They stood there like that, locked in a kiss that seemed to completely subsume their consciousness, until Argos pulled back again in alarm.

  “Io!” he exclaimed in shock. “We – We cannot! You cannot! It is forbidden by the Mother Goddess!”

  The priestess silenced him by laying one of her fingers upon his lips. “Nonsense,” she asserted. “It is my right to choose for myself what I can and cannot do. I shall willingly forfeit my role as High Priestess if necessary. I wish to spend forever with you…, if you shall have me.”

  All thoughts were suddenly jumbled in Argos’ head. He wanted her so badly. He had always wanted her. Yet, something insurmountable had always held him back.

  “But…, but you are immortal!” he reminded her somberly. “And I am just a man. I have so few years on this earth before I am gone again. You shall stay young forever, whereas I shall grow old, whither, and eventually die. I would never want to put you through that.”

  Io shook her head. “None of us may escape the cruel hands of The Fates, Argos,” she stated assuredly. “But, I know that I would rather spend your short lifetime with you than an infinity apart. Please. Let us be together, as one – sharing our bliss, for the short window we have been afforded to do so.”

  Argos still had the creeping sensation that he should continue to protest. He felt deep in his psyche an uneasiness that seemed to linger just behind his rational mind. But the joy he felt in that moment served to completely overpower any form of doubt or reason which might exist within him. He could only grin brightly at the priestess.

  “I want nothing more than that,” he admitted to her, reaching down and holding her hands in his. “From the first moment I laid my eyes upon you, I knew that nothing in this world would ever be more special to me than you. I want to build a life with you. I want to make a family with you. And, when it is time for me to pass from this world, I want to be gazing into your eyes as I do so.”

  A tear rolled down his cheek as he said this, and he saw tears similarly filling Io’s gorgeous eyes. He pulled her in close to him, leaned down, and kissed her once again. Embracing her, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that nothing would ever be able to tear them apart.

  “I love you,” he choked out.

  “I love you, too,” she wh
ispered.

  * * *

  810 BCE: Greece

  “It is time for you all to eat!” Argos called out from the horizontal logs of the fence at the edge of the large pen which stretched out before him. He reached into a cloth sack and grabbed a handful of grain to toss into the wooden food trough by his side. As soon as he had done this, he saw a dozen sheep rushing toward him in a veritable stampede of hunger.

  “Woooooahh! Slow down!” he exclaimed, lifting his arms into the air and standing off to the side to avoid getting trampled. “There is plenty for everyone!”

  Hoisting the bag of grain above the bustling mass of fleece around his legs, he tipped it over and poured all of its contents into the empty trough. Chuckling to himself as he carefully made his way back out of the crowd, he brushed his hands off on his pants and exited the enclosure, closing the pen’s gate securely behind him.

  He then paused and took a moment to gaze at all the good fortune which surrounded him. In only a few years, the temple grounds had grown into a lively, prosperous crossroads for travelers and worshipers alike. As Hera’s notoriety further developed in the surrounding villages, ever-greater numbers of people began to make the journey to visit the goddess’ first temple. And, with them, they brought food and donations to keep the complex running. Argos and Io had quickly amassed enough wealth to renovate the temple and refurbish the animal pens, tiny well, and auxiliary storage structures. They were even able to purchase whole herds of animals for food, materials, and sacrifices to the Mother Goddess. Occasionally, Argos and Io were assisted by pilgrims staying for weeks or months at the temple, repairing structures and building new additions to the complex. Argos had never anticipated such abundance in such a short timeframe.

  “Argos!” Io called out from inside the doorway of their new cottage. The modest building stood at the end of the pathway between the animal pens, with walls made of thick logs – delivered to them from distant lands – and a thatched roof which contrasted beautifully with the crystal-clear, blue sky that day. It seemed to Argos a palace, considering his humble upbringing. “Argos, please come and assist me!”