Page 25 of Fate

“I’m sorry Skion. I thought real danger would trigger your power. I didn’t consider about how flimsy this damned armor is. I…I almost killed you. And before you start, it doesn’t matter that it worked; you almost died.” Helia’s voice trembles and quivers as she speaks, water welling at the corners of her eyes. Who is this woman? Where was the confident and in control commander; the bastion of strength? I shake my head, still cradled by Helia. She keeps surprising me; as if I could fall any harder for this woman.

“Yeah, about that. How did you”—I gesture awkwardly toward my back—“do all that? Part of being an Aspect?”

Helia props me up causing my head to throb. Groaning, I make to massage my temples only to bleed on Helia from the small wound she scored across my forearm.

“Let’s wrap that for now until you’ve recovered a bit. Then I’ll take care of it before we head back.” Helia reaches into a small pouch at her waist and produces clean linen, wrapping it slowly around my arm. “And to answer your question, yes. Lunos gifted me a few practical abilities. At least, that’s what my memory tells me.”

I chew on that as I watch Helia bind my arm. There’s still so much I don’t know about her and what being an Aspect really means.

“What’s it been like Helia? You told me you were created years ago to search for me, but not much more. I can’t imagine any of that or being an Aspect is easy.” Her calloused hands pause briefly before tying off the bandage and leaning backward. The sounds of the night float around us; crickets singing their songs, soft wind gently rustling through the branches of the trees. Helia inhales deeply, gathering her words.

“Imagine being in a crowd of people, everyone walking around and going about their business. Imagine being in the center of it all, the chattering buzz of pointless small talk tickling your ears. Yet, no one can see you. No one can hear you. You’re adrift in this flow of humanity and yet apart, never to fully join in. Never to be. Never able to truly live. Even the band only sees their commander. No more, no less; a singular version of the complicated truth.” The throb of my headache fades in light of her vulnerability, the deep hole of her loneliness. My own void resonates faintly in the depths of my heart.

“I understand. It’s different for me, but I never felt at home in Athos; never felt like I was a part of the village, the people. Perhaps this was all meant to be, in more ways than one.” Helia’s fingers feel divine as I entwine mine with hers. Regardless of the design Lunos has for both of us, I’ll take this and any moment fate gives us.

CHAPTER TWENTY

THE NEXT DAY, the number of people we pass along the road grows. Helia had patched up my arm after our talk the previous night. My back and arm twinge in remembrance of the pain. We talked a bit more, setting plans to focus on training my abilities more now that I am able to use them consciously. Hopefully without needing the whole nearly dying thing.

The shade of olive trees gives way into a slight decline and opening to the familiar sight of farmland. Sprawling farther than I could have imagined, oceans of wheat, barley, and vegetables lay out before us. Surprising, given how late into harvest season we are. Small farmhouses break up the landscape here and there, stone estates able to house workers and landowners alike.

The road itself changes as well. The well packed dirt turns to gravel which in turn gives way to stone paving, interwoven patterns of bricks creating a pristine marble man-made river. Olena has to drag me along, the sight completely foreign to my eyes. Yet that wonder pales in comparison with what comes next as we crest a small hillock.

Hecalon stands a distance away and below us along the gentle descent into the valley. My jaw drops at the sheer size of it. Three times as wide as Ionos and disappearing into the distance are what look to be all stone houses and buildings, colors splashing across the roofs. There must be untold thousands of people here. Olena barks a laugh at my frozen look and continues to pull me along.

It takes until midday to reach the gates, Solon casting his rays of light and heat down upon us. White smooth stone wraps around the edges of the city as far as the eye can see, several people tall, making any attack challenging to say the least. A combination of spear tips and bows poke above the wall, the city guard mobilizing as a precaution. Not that our tiny group would be able to make a frontal assault. I have a lot to learn from Bellius about strategy and tactics, but even I can see how impossible that would be.

The guard captain gives a shout and the thick wooden doors creak open, a pair of oxen driving a pulley system. A few cries of recognition and admiration emerge from the guard as we pass through the gates. Apparently the Spears are a fixture here.

My head swivels from side to side as we march through the paved city streets, trying and failing to take everything in. Ionos had been a city in my eyes; Hecalon makes it seem like a backwater village by comparison. Stone is everywhere; the roads, the buildings, and the statues. Not whitewashed like the exterior walls, no; Hecalon is a city of color. Vibrant flowery red, the crystal clear blue of the ocean, gold and copper accents; a feast for the eyes.

It’s the statues, though, that captivate me. Carved from marble, perfect forms adorn the outside of most buildings as we journey across the city. Untouched by the blooming colors surrounding them, the statues stand out in their plainness; in color only. Stony fabric cascades down chiseled bodies, flowing effortlessly. Laurels of marble adorning their heads, some with spears, others with baskets, and still others with wide open arms welcoming all.

“Quite something, isn't it? I still remember when I first came here.” Olena looks on with me, taking in the life an artist had breathed into stone. “Hecalon is the capital for a reason. The best artists, architects, fighters, politicians, merchants, and all others come either from here or to here.”

The sights continue as we journey deeper into the city, passing agoras, bathhouses, manors, and the like. Eventually, the winding streets burst open into a lush, circular park. Cypress, pine, and olive trees reach up to the heavens, beseeching the pantheons above. Wild flowers bloom, their color dancing in the wind, playfully beckoning their stony counterparts to join them. Water flows through the center, fountains peacefully singing away.

We form into a two-by-two file and walk along the maze-like pathways in the park. A flower bush ahead pulls my attention. Deep blue wildflowers blossom, opening to the purest white center. Tiny tendrils of white streak erratically along the petals, slowly merging into that deep, deep blue. My hand moves on its own, plucking a single flower. It cradles softly in my palm, delicate and small.

The snicker behind me rubs against the peace, until I recognize the timbre. Andra still sees me as a country bumpkin. Taking in the park around me, she's not wrong. For all that has happened, it's impossible for me to ignore the beauty of the life around me. Regardless of her needling, I can’t bring myself to care.

To my dismay, we exit the park on the opposite side, which seems to serve as the center of the city. In the distance, a rocky promenade rises with what look like temples dotting along it. Before we get close enough to start an ascent, the column veers to the right, leading past a series of large estates. Each estate could easily house several scores of people and the archways leading into them all have different sigils watching over their thresholds.

“Cohort, halt!” The clarion thunder of Helia's battle voice carries down the line, all of us stopping in unison. I look up and see the sigil of the band etched in the stone gateway next to us.

***

Nia had laid down their blanket across the sky by the time I was summoned, Bellius quietly pulling me away from the others. The rest of the day had been a blur of meeting other members of the Spears outside of my cohort, stowing my gear, and learning the grounds and immediate area of Hecalon. I expected this moment to happen on the following morn; not as things were settling for the evening.

Bellius leads me to the main house of the estate, which is fairly close to the barracks. This is where the officers sleep and where I assume our leader lives. After a few turns, we reach a wooden door and Bellius stops. One sharp knock later, and I find myself in a room full of scrolls with a table set in the center of the room.

“Not what you expected? Not enough weapons or armor?” The cheeky questions emerge from the figure behind the table. An old man lounges on one of the chairs around the table, grey hair sparsely growing from his balding head. Wrinkles outshine any scars that leading a mercenary band would cause, all sense of muscles having eroded with time.

“I didn't know what to expect; this is my first time in an estate like this.”

He laughs, a dusty sprinkle of sand on dunes. Gesturing to one of the chairs in front of him, I realize that we're not alone in the room. Helia sits calmly in one of the chairs, flashing me a secret smile.

“Welcome to Hecalon, Skion. I am Strategos Pellax, leader of the Band of Spears.” A Strategos! From what Bellius had taught me, only those of exceptional skill and leadership ever attain that rank. Pellax pointedly, achingly, slowly looks to Helia as I take place on the chair. “Helia has told me of what transpired over the past few months and I want you to know you have my deepest condolences about the attack on your home.” I blink, not expecting that.