Page 79 of Beyond the Storm
“You aren’t good enough for him,”Melancholy told me.“He will not choose you over them.”
“Why is it you show him such kindness yet continue to cause me misery?”I asked my sin.
He didn’t respond.
Sighing, I left the agora and found the path that led to the training fields.
Youths performed drills in one small arena, fighting with their bare hands. In battle, knowing how to kill an enemy without a weapon was a valuable skill. A weapon could easily be lost, forcing them into hand-to-hand combat. Some of the older boys wielded sticks, while other boys had nothing. Another skill. Sometimes, your weapon may be lost while the enemy kept theirs. They practiced offensive and defensive maneuvers.
“You there!” a deep voice boomed from my right.
My spine stiffened as I looked toward the man.
Streaks of gray ran through his black hair, and the same shades showed in his beard. The sight of him was familiar, as was his voice. As he neared me, that sense of familiarity grew.
“You are the warrior I fought beside at Nemea,” he said, stopping in front of me. He stood several inches shorter but wasn’t fazed by it. “The Spartan who claimed not to be so any longer. Yet here you are.”
“Here I am,” I responded.
“I am called Melas.”
Shock swarmed my chest. “Melas?”
His gaze slightly narrowed, as if studying me more in depth. “Your eyes… you look like someone I once knew. What is your name?”
“Kallias.”
The same shock I had felt now crossed his face too. “Kallias? By the gods! Is it truly you, my boy?”
“You remember me.”
“Aye. I do. Meeting someone whose wounds heal moments after receiving them is a thing you do not easily forget.” His gaze trailed over me. “You have grown into a fine warrior, just as I knew you would. When you went missing all those years ago, others claimed you either fled like a coward or met your death. I never did. I knew the gods must have come for you.”
“Yes. They did.” It was close enough to the truth. The days when he had trained me as a boy seemed like a different lifetime. “My mother… do you…”
His expression fell a bit. “She was wed to another warrior and was happy for many years. Sickness took her two winters ago.”
The news should’ve upset me. She had been my mother, after all. I felt nothing. Part of me still believed I had no soul, yet if that were true, how could that soul cry out for Elasus?
“Tell me, boy.” Suspicion flooded his eyes. “Why have you returned? Are the gods angry with Sparta and you have come to unleash their wrath upon us?”
“No,” I answered. “My orders lie elsewhere and will bring Sparta no harm. I cannot say more than that, but know I’ll be taking my leave shortly.”
Melas accepted my words with a sharp nod. “Then I will leave you to it.” He started to walk away but paused. “I truly am pleased to see you again, Kallias. Whatever plan the gods have for you, I pray for your victory. And may that victory eventually bring your soul peace.”
He left without another word.
I continued down the path, finding Elasus as he and a shorter male with a lighter shade of brown hair left one of the training fields.
“Oh, it’s you,” the other male said once spotting me. He then smirked at Elasus and bumped his arm. “The male who took your maidenhood. Is he the reason you snuck into our quarters early this morn?”
Flames scorched my cheeks, burning so tall they touched the tips of my ears as well.
Elasus seemed just as mortified. Pink touched his cheeks, as if my flames had shot out and afflicted him too. He then motioned to the male. “This is Nikandros. I will kill him if you ask it of me.”
“Ignore his lies.” Nikandros scoffed at him before bounding forward and stopping in front of me. “Pleasure to finally meet you. You are Kallias, yes? I must say, he hasn’t stopped blabbing about you since our return from battle.”
“Cease your rambling,” Elasus said, grabbing him by the back of the neck and yanking him away from me.
