Her pulse boomed in her ears as the memories consumed her alive. Trying to master her frantic breathing, her whole damned body fell to the flames. There was no escaping him once they crossed the border. She was alittle birdconfined in a gleaming, golden cage, and only Procyon held the key. Willing her eyes closed, she cleared the thoughts ripping her mind to shreds and slipped into that numb, quiet place. Time itself was her fiercest of enemies, and yet, she’d battle it for the rest of her immortal existence.
Eos have mercy upon her.
† † †
Dusk had fallen when the chariot finally slowed to a stop. Enrapt in his puzzle box, Procyon said little for the remainder of the day’s journey and for that, Tethys found herself grateful. Although with the clop of hooves and squeak of wheels outside, the ride was far from silent. Her head ached, desperately pleading for a quiet reprieve.
“We’ll make camp for the night, Your Highnesses,” the chariot driver said, unlatching the door and sliding the mechanical step from its travel clamps. Procyon, with puffed chest, nodded and disappeared into the shadows, following the driver down the convoy line.
The clearing they’d parked in was just large enough for a handful of encampments around the perimeter and a makeshift paddock at the center. Servants and stablemen bustled about, raising their tents and hammering posts into the earth. Tethys stayed close to her own chariot, mindful to keep out of the way of their busy staff.
She glanced across the clearing toward Araes, seated on a stump brushing his mare. The lieutenant didn’t notice her wandering gaze as he ran a hand through his brown hair. The ride left his brow pink with windburn and he’d rolled his sleeves up to his forearms. She watched his thick black tattoos curl with the motion of his arm as he combed the length of his mare’s neck.
As insufferable as the mortal was, he was quite…agreeable to the eyes from afar. She snorted at the thoughtbefore turning on her heels.
Dinner was served promptly with the final beam of daylight dissipating overhead. It was a simple meal of root vegetables and stewed venison, freshly butchered from a quick hunt. Tethys prodded at her bowl, her appetite having faded with the haze of twilight. Procyon offered Araes an evening of liberty from his duties. After all, Tethys was protected far more under the immortal’s supervision than the lieutenant’s. However, after days of being haunted by Araes’s presence, she felt an unexpected void upon finding him absent.
Tethys watched Procyon, praying to Eos above that he’d drink himself into oblivion, if only for a night of peace. Firelight reflected in the small obsidian beads intertwined through his thick beard and his words, enunciated and loud, told the fable of a great stag in the west, a legendary beast for which the Canissaen sigil was drawn.
The stag, nearly three hundred pounds and with fourteen point antlers, was an ancient creature that predated even the mortal dark ages. Although suspicious that this animal was more fantasy than fact, Tethys kept to herself throughout the meal, fixing her eyes on the curtly chopped carrots and potatoes in her bowl.
The dread of retiring for the night left her riddled with a cold sweat she couldn’t shake, and her stomach was still uneasy after their journey. Even the dry, flaming heat flickering with each ember pop couldn’t help shake the frost from her bones.
Procyon sucked in a breath under the unwavering attention of their convoy. She supposed their wonderstruck expressions gave the most potent of highs. Her brother always had to be the most important person in the room, and now he demanded the attention of even the crickets chirping in the surrounding grasses. Had he thought even the smallest of earthworms paid him no mind, would he rip up the ground beneath their feet? Her lips twitched atthe thought.
The mighty autumn king, ruler of worms and mortals alike, rose from his seat, and staggered on drunken feet.
It wasn’t uncommon for the immortal children to weave webs of fiction such as this, for their mortal peoples. Humans were an interesting species, searching for meaning in nothing. One small, heroic tale could inspire millennia of peacetime or societal growth. Even now, she scanned the faces of her mortal staff, their eyes glazed as they listened intently to Procyon’s tale.
Immortality and magic brought her family to the stars, but fables and legends truly made them gods.
The fire faded into embers at the conclusion of the tale. Tethys, unimpressed and exhausted from the day’s travel, placed the untouched portion of stew on the ground beside her and rose, announcing her goodnight.
With stiff knees and aching calves, she left the amber glow of the party and started for the royal chariot. The rocky clearing, now washed in silvery moonlight, was a symphony of chirping crickets and night birds. Shadows lurked in the tall grasses along its border, beckoning her to fade into their darkness.
To simply disappear from this reality.
Sinking into a dreamless sleep would have to suffice, she supposed.
The crunch of gravel gave her pause as she started up the trail. Leather and peppermint pricked her nose.
“Did you enjoy the fables, Lieutenant Araes?” she asked, arching a brow at her invisible stalker.
“Not nearly as much as you did, it seems. Leaving the party early?” he replied, his broad shoulders coming into view. The decadent brown hair atop his head was tousled and damp, as if he’d just returned from a bath in the river. He hadn’t bothered to clasp the top two buttons of his linen tunic, now glinting in the starlight. Tethys allowed her eyes a moment of rebellion as she took in the hint of blackink peaking from beneath the material.
The markings on his chest stole her breath. It was unheard of for a soldier of his rank to wear the branding of battle so high on their body. He would have had to slay hundreds of enemies to earn the tattoos. She shivered at the thought of just how deadly, how violent, those massive hands must be.
“I’ve heard the tale far too many times, I suppose,” she said, picking a fleck of dust from under her fingernail.
He offered a knowing look and edged closer into her space. Beads of water still dripped down the length of his neck, refracting moonlight across his skin. He gazed down at her through thick, tousled locks, and she swore his eyes darted to her lips, even just for a fleeting moment.
“My tent is just over there.” He pointed to the shelter opposite the continental chariot. It wasn’t much of a tent at all, with a brown leather hide draped over a simple triangular frame. The Venian army didn’t care for luxury over practicality, it would seem.
“And why would I care to know the location of your tent, Lieutenant?” Her lips thinned and she crossed her arms over her chest, but that damned heart of hers thrummed wildly as Araes risked a step closer. How was it that this human man was capable of rising such a vapid response?
He tapped his chin and shrugged, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.
Tethys’s glare nearly seared his skin as she brushed by him. Before she could pass entirely, however, he sidestepped and blocked her stride.
