A year ago, Cassandra had followed Kairos to the Lycean Republic for his wedding.

She had worn a different dress back then, and her current one put the previous to shame. Made from expensive golden linen and crimson silk gathered from Vali and Orichalcos, the gown espoused her forms perfectly. A cloak of velvet and translucent flowers fell from her shoulders, while an opening gave a window into her generous bosom. Cass had also dyed her iconic hair braid red for the occasion, the color perfectly mixing with her clothes. Alexandrian makeup enhanced her gaze, while a diadem of gold shone brightly on her forehead. To put it bluntly, she looked like a queen of myths.

As the smell of Cass’ honeyed perfume filled the tent, Kairos wondered how it would feel to kiss her. The image flashed in his mind like lightning and he immediately suppressed it. You are the priest, not the groom, he told himself as his mother Aurelia helped Cass adjust her hair. Think of Andromache instead…

But to Kairos’ shame, Cass had noticed the gaze he sent her and answered with a wicked smile. “If I didn’t know you well, I would think that you were imagining me naked.”

“Of course he does,” Aurelia replied with a grin, having traded her wolf pelts for traditional Lycean matron’s garb. “You look beautiful, my dear.”

“You’re almost as shiny as I am!” Rook added, his golden feathers glittering with the torch’s light.

“Is it true?” Cass teased Kairos again, delighting in his discomfort. “Am I beautiful?”

“Let’s just say Tiberius will make many people envious tonight,” Kairos declared with a sigh. “If I hadn’t met Andromache or Julia, I would be in his place right now.”

Cass’ smile faltered a little. “Do you regret it?”

“A bit,” Kairos admitted. He knew they would have gotten along as well in marriage as in the battlefield. “But I think it’s just my human mind wondering how things could have gone. I am happy with the choices I have made, and the women I’m with.”

“I feel the same,” Cass replied with a nod while joining her hands. “I can’t believe it’s finally happening.”

“It is about time, if I may add,” Aurelia said before massaging her friend’s shoulders. “Relax…”

“It’s silly,” Cass admitted with a chuckle. “I fought a dragon, but now I shake at the thought of getting married after praying for it for so long.”

Like many Travian women, Cass had always feared growing old without a husband or children to support her in her twilight years. Even though Kairos had ensured she would have enough wealth to live in comfort without help, a part of her had never given up on founding a family. If anything, the Travian King suspected that watching Julia with their children had only strengthened Cass’ resolve.

The time came for the wedding to begin, and the group emerged from the tent. The fortified town of Kairos’ Gate that stood right in front of the Necromanteion temple’s entrance had doubled its population overnight. A sea of tents had risen within the fortifications as foreign [Heroes], captains, and army officers gathered to celebrate. The moon was high in the night sky, an island of light in the darkness.

The wedding would take place before the Necromanteion’s dark entrance, the tunnels past the enormous gates shrouded in the Underworld’s mists. Kairos would run the ceremony before his own [Demigod] altar, while a vast space had been allocated for the dining tables, dance floor, and musicians.

As Kairos and Rook took their place, the former wearing his armor and kingly regalia, the guests gathered to see the bride and groom. Their families had the best position; although Cass had long lost her blood family, her loyal crew and Kairos’ own blood ties filled in. Julia herself wore a splendid red toga and her best jewels; Andromache, more modest, wore a gown of blue fibers and seashells. As usual, she also carried the tooth necklace Kairos gave her early in their relationship.

A true witch of the sea, her lover thought as he noticed many men in the assembly looking at his concubine. If any of them dared to make a move on her or his wife…

Of Tiberius’ family, only his sister Lucretia and Sertorius could be seen at the front row. Kairos’ only interaction with his brother-in-law’s wife had been at his own wedding, when she had the bad taste to give him slaves as dowry. She was an elegant woman who liked to dye her hair; Kairos had seen her wearing green last year, and now she had settled on silver. Yet neither her splendor nor jewels could hide her foul-mood and the invisible wall separating her from her husband. Sertorius himself looked barely better, only keeping her close for decorum.

Kairos could see the specter of divorce hanging behind them like a shadow.

The second row was occupied by major Lycean officers, captains, and foreign guests. The sphinx Aglaonice was engaged in a lively discussion with Thales, while Agron and Ultor stood next to one another in respectful silence. General Petra of Achlys was also present, while the mermaid Nausicaa and a masked, tentacled priest of the Cetean [Demigod] Hybris occupied the plaza’s fountain. Kairos also noticed a veiled woman who he recognized as the gorgon Euryale hiding beneath a glamor.

Finally, the bride and groom arrived with their witnesses. Tiberius came dressed in Lycean armor, his father Dispater having settled on a golden toga. The groom’s movements were firm, his face confident. The inexperienced and anxious boy that Kairos once took under his wing had grown into a man. Cassandra joined him next to the altar, Aurelia following closely behind.

Is this how Rhadamanthe felt when he wed me? Kairos wondered as everyone looked at the Travian King, waiting for him to begin with the customary prayers. Tiberius and Cassandra exchanged a smile worth a thousand words. Proud and moved?

“Tonight,” he began, Rook standing at his side, “We are gathered to wed these two lovebirds before the old gods and the new. While it is customary to offer a prayer to all of them except one, this marriage will be a special occasion. Cassandra Bato, here present, is the high priestess of Queen Persephone and has asked for her patron’s blessing.”

Cassandra nodded as she whispered prayers. Her words carried magic in the air, the mists of the Necromanteion shuddering behind Kairos. Tiberius gathered his breath.

“Do you wish to be united in blood, before the living and the dead?” the Travian King asked slowly, as a chilling wind erupted from the Necromanteion. “Tiberius Plutus, will you cherish your wife in your dawn and twilight years? Will you be her shield in war, her pillar at home?”

“I swear,” Tiberius replied without hesitation as the air grew colder. His father Dispater rubbed his arms in a vain effort to warm himself up, while Aurelia looked at the Necromanteion with a longing gaze.

“Cassandra Bato,” Kairos asked his former second-in-command and most trusted friend. “Do you swear to stand by this man in all ordeals? Do you swear to fight by his side, to bear his children and protect his home?”

“I swear,” Cassandra replied with a wide smile.

How long she had waited to say those words…

Shadows appeared in the crowd as she spoke. Faceless shades with shining lights in place of eyes, towering horned apparitions, and the dancing ghosts of satyrs. More appeared among the living, causing them to whisper in surprise. Kairos thought more would be ill at ease with this phenomenon, but when compared to some of the monstrous guests, even the dead didn’t stand out.

“Then,” Kairos gathered his breath, his next words stuck in his throat. His mother had frozen in place, a hand on her mouth as she looked at shadows in the first row.

A trio of shades had joined Julia. Though they were beings of darkness, Kairos recognized two of the shapes as powerfully built men and the third as a small girl. Cassandra turned to glance at one of the men, her face paler than chalk.

Once, she had hoped to see one of these men in Tiberius’ place.

The groom was no better. He had noticed three masculine shadows standing next to his sister, and the sight of them seemed to put Dispater on the verge of tears.

Other shadows made Kairos falter. One of them was as white as snow, the specter of a satyr trailing Andromache like a guardian spirit; while a horned minotaur’s spirit had appeared among the Foresight’s crew as if he had never left it.

Then I marry you on a war’s eve where you might both die, Kairos thought grimly as he turned to Cassandra and Tiberius. I send you to a battlefield so you may join these shadows on the other side. Why won’t you stay safe and raise a family, rather than court death?

But as these dark thoughts crossed his mind, the couple turned away from the dead to look at each other. They exchanged a nod, and then faced Kairos with grim, determined faces.

Even knowing what might await them, they stood resolute in their decision.

So was Kairos. “Then,” he said, his voice firm, “I thus declare you husband and wife before the old gods and the new.”

His words were met with cheers and applause, none louder than the shades’. Tiberius put his arms around his older wife and brazenly met her lips, the two newlyweds engaging in a passionate embrace. The temperature rose as they did, the coldness of the underworld replaced with the warmth of spring.

“So beautiful…” Rook whispered.

“Congratulations,” Kairos told the two as they separated. “I swear, whoever gets between you will have to answer to my spear.”

“I know,” Cass said with a strangely sad smile. Kairos would have paid dearly to know what she was thinking right now. Was she afraid of the future, or mourning the past? “I know.”

“Thank you, King Kairos,” Tiberius said with a respectful nod. “We wouldn’t have met without you.”

“That’s all I wished for,” the king replied. “For Travia to bring people from different horizons together. We are but one in the end.”

Afterward came the ceremonial presentation of gifts, all of them rivaling in splendor. Lucretia and Sertorius went first, offering each newlywed a well-crafted sword; one made of gold and the other of silver. Agron offered a thick suit of armor for the groom, perhaps too heavy for Tiberius to wear, while Ultor added a more practical shield to go with it. Thales followed with a golden compass, while Aglaonice, that wily sphinx, gave them a cube puzzle. Andromache offered an amulet of fertility, Julia a dress woven with Rook’s golden feathers. Aurelia, who knew Cassandra well, gave her a surprise box. When she whispered its content in her friend’s ear, Cass turned so red that Kairos thought she would faint on the spot.

All of these gifts were well and good, but Kairos knew Dispater’s would be the hardest to top. And indeed, when he had servants bring a miniature model of a splendid villa, Cassandra could only gasp at the implications. “The architects, mages, and workers are already here,” the groom’s father said proudly. “You only have to pick the place.”

Considering the miniature model’s shape and the fact it included a private lake, it would require many hectares to build. Fortunately, Kairos knew exactly where they could raise the villa.

“A deed, Lord Kairos?” Tiberius asked as the Travian King offered them his own gift: a single parchment scroll.

“Of our new town of Cassopolis, near the river,” Kairos explained. “You will be its landlords, as will be your children after you. The locals will pay you homage and the incomes will fill your coffers.”

Cassandra couldn’t help but explode in laughter, while her new husband chuckled. “Dispater offers us a villa,” she said, “and you the city around it.”

“You deserve nothing less,” Kairos replied. Cassandra had struggled with money for many years, and he wanted to make up for these years of misery with countless more. “The Foresight wouldn’t be leading an armada without your friendship and hard work.”

“Enough with the nostalgia,” Cass whispered. “Let us enjoy ourselves. The [Nekyia] ritual will only last until dawn.”

The shades of the dead would disappear in the sun they longed to see.

Kairos offered them a nod before turning to Aurelia. “We should go, Mother.”

“I am not sure I can take it…” Her voice broke as she struggled to keep her composure. “I… it has been so many years...”

“I will be here with you,” Kairos pleaded. “You won’t face them alone.”

Surprisingly, Dispater put a hand on Aurelia’s shoulder with compassion. “It is hard on all of us, Lady Marius. No parent should outlive their children. I know that pain all too well, and it remains raw forevermore.”

Aurelia rubbed her arms as if struggling against the cold. “I am afraid of opening old wounds.”

“It will soothe them,” Cassandra promised. “I know you had regrets and questions that went unanswered. Now is the time to ask them and be at peace with the answers.”

Kairos’ mother gathered her breath like a soldier marching to war, but didn’t turn back.

While Tiberius and Cassandra joined the former’s family, Rook followed after Aurelia as she joined her own. Kairos remained behind with Dispater for one more minute, having questions for his co-conspirator.

“They are your sons?” Kairos asked Dispater as he looked at the shadows following Lucretia.

“Yes.” Dispater looked as if he had aged three decades in a minute. “A plague has taken them all in quick succession over the last year.”

“I am sorry,” Kairos apologized. “I didn’t know.”

“It was… hard. There are things that even coins cannot buy. Life is one of them. At least, so long as I remain a [Hero].” Dispater’s eyes lit with both anguish and hope. “My Skills allow me to do many things with money. I hope that once I ascend further, I may even bribe death.”

Was that why he was so eager to slay Zama? Kairos thought it was simple greed and ambition, but the underlying motive sounded much nobler than he expected. Nor could the king blame Dispater, as he had himself lusted for phoenix feathers and the power to revive the dead in the past. “Is that why you want Tiberius with you on the campaign?”

“I couldn’t be here for my other sons,” Dispater muttered. “Is that too much for a grieving father to enjoy his family while he risks his life?”

“You might lose him as well,” Kairos pointed out.

“We both know that if he didn’t follow me, he would fight at your side. The boy looks up to you more than me.” Dispater cleared his throat, eager to put the matter aside. “How are things between you and Sertorius’ sister?”

“Things are good,” Kairos replied without elaborating. He knew what Dispater truly wanted to discuss. “Is Sertorius planning to divorce your daughter?”

“Is that so obvious?” Dispater didn’t even bother to deny it. “They have been married for years now, but have no son. If my daughter doesn’t give Sertorius an heir within the year…”

“I will lend him my [Golden Fleece],” Kairos said. “It will do wonders for them, you will see.”

“I hope so. My Lucretia will follow her husband on his campaign to make sure his loins don’t wander too far.”

To ensure she will bear a child, or prevent him from finding her a replacement? Kairos wondered, though he had the sense not to say it out loud. “She is welcome on our march. I swear nothing will happen to her.”

“Thank you,” Dispater said with a warm smile. “With my older sons dead, she and Tiberius will inherit my fortune… as will their consorts. Maybe Lucretia will find a better one with a second match. Someone with a brighter destiny.”

Are you subtly telling me I should get in bed with my brother-in-law’s wife? Kairos thought with amusement. That would make for a good tragedy, but the Travian King already had suffered enough for a lifetime. Still, for the purpose of keeping Dispater in the alliance, he faked interest. “I’ll be sure to watch over her during the campaign.”

“That is all I wish for,” Dispater replied before excusing himself and joining his family. Tiberius was busy introducing his new wife to his siblings’ shades, while Lucretia and Sertorius remained as silent as tombs.

Kairos sent a glance at his crew, and especially the horned shadow among them. Though the Travian King had lost many crewmates over the years, the minotaur Rhadamanthe had been one of those that hurt him the most. He had been a guide and a friend, who perished so others might live.

Kairos would have a talk with him, but later. Rhadamanthe’s shadow had noticed his still living minotaur wife in the crowd… and especially the little calf that followed her everywhere. His late crewmate deserved a moment alone with his family.

Kairos himself moved to join his own kin. As he had expected, Julia was engaged in a lively discussion with the adult shadows alongside her mother-in-law, while Andromache and Rook entertained the smallest one. The white shade following the nymph raised a hand at Kairos, recognizing his old friend.

“Oyé, my captain,” Nessus’ immaculate spirit greeted the Travian King as musicians started to sing in the background and servants served the plates. Everywhere the dead and the living mingled, old friends and broken families reuniting for the night. “Where are my godchildren?”

“With guards and Caenis,” Kairos replied with a smile. “Don’t be greedy. You already have Nessia to deal with.”

“Yeah, leave some of them for us!” Rook said as he allowed the small shadow to jump on his back. Somehow, the [Nekyia] ritual gave her enough substance not to phase through objects. “I am warm and comfy, am I not?”

“Your griffin is so beautiful, brother,” the small shadow said before looking at Andromache. “Your wife too!”

“I am not his wife,” Andromache replied softly, though she didn’t have the heart to get mad at the small child. “We are far more than that.”

Kairos knelt before Rook and the little shadow, struggling to hold back tears. “It has been a while, Histria.”

“It’s been too long!” his late sister replied while almost stumbling off Rook’s back. “I heard you went to the Underworld, so why didn’t you visit me?

“He was too busy killing death,” Nessus’ spirit replied. “And then he fed the old sun to his griffin.”

“You did?” Histria gasped as she looked at Rook. “You ate the sun?”

“I pecked him to death!” Rook boasted.

“Then he laid an egg that became the new sun,” Nessus continued to delight Histria with outlandish tales.

Even Andromache joined in. “Your brother named a city after you.”

“A city?” Little Histria looked at her brother. “An entire city? Like Lissala?”

“Even bigger,” Kairos replied, his voice dying in his throat. “A shining city made of stone rather than mud and wood.”

His late sister giggled. “Now, you are trying to trick me. I can believe your griffin ate the sun, but a whole city of stone?”

“It is true, sweetie,” Aurelia said as she joined the group, her hand touching Histria’s head and brushing against her shadowy hair. Her eyes were wet with tears. “It’s as beautiful as you were.”

“Really?” Now, she believed her mother. “I want to see!”

“Buckle up then, we don’t have a moment to waste!” Rook extended his wings and took flight without warning, Histria’s ghost screaming in glee and fear as she clutched his feathers. The griffin vanished into the skies, swift as the wind. Kairos hoped he would have time to give his sister a tour of the island before the sun returned.

“You’re naming cities after family now?” one of the adult shadows said with the familiar voice of Kairos’ uncle Panos, “When will I get mine, nephew?”

“Soon, Uncle,” Kairos replied. He couldn’t help but remember the last time they were together; he had just earned his [Legend] by killing the [Hero] Pelopidas, but too late to save Panos from bleeding out. “Soon, I swear.”

“Truthfully, I would rather have a ship as a namesake. Maybe I could haunt it and wreak havoc on the Thessalans from beyond the grave?” Panos’ ghost erupted in laughter. “Your son has grown bigger than I ever thought he would, Chron.”

“He did,” a deep voice agreed.

Kairos straightened up as the third shadow joined them alongside Julia. Out of the ghosts, he was the largest of them, as intimidating in death as he had been in life; a towering mass of darkness in the shape of a mighty warrior.

“Kairos. The right moment. I knew we made the right choice when we gave you that name. You have proven yourself worthy of it twice over.” The shadow of Kairos’ father Chron praised his child, his eyes blinking like the stars. “I am so proud of you, my son.”

“Father,” Kairos whispered.

The specter embraced him with his arms, as cold as they had been in life; along the way he dragged his wife Aurelia in the hug, Kairos’ mother holding her late husband and son as tightly as she could.

It had been so many years since they last embraced this way… and yet Kairos had never forgotten.

“The world is cruel,” Chron complained as he released Kairos, but still held his wife close. “I can feel your warmth, my love, but I have only a chilling cold to offer.”

“I will be warm for the two of us,” Aurelia replied softly. “Until we are reunited on the other side.”

“I would rather rejoin you on this one,” Chron said with a sigh. “Oh, I would make up for the lost time tenfold.”

“So would I,” Uncle Panos declared as he looked at Cassandra. Though he lacked facial expressions in his undead state, his regret was almost palpable. “But our time here is done, brother.”

“I know,” Chron replied. “But before I return to the darkness, I would like to lay my eyes on my grandchildren once. I heard you named them Aurelius and Rhea. These are strong names.”

“You will see them,” Julia promised, her voice as low as a whisper.

“How do you know their names though?” Kairos asked with a frown as he glanced at his mother. “Did you tell him?”

To his surprise, his mother shook her head. His father’s specter crossed his arms, his tone wary as he spoke. “The Underworld is a small place. Skulls shudder your name, Kairos, and shadows follow you. We can hear the wolves singing your name at night.”

Kairos’ blood froze in his veins, while Julia flinched as if she had been slapped. Andromache looked away and glanced at the crowd, as if looking for beasts in the night.

“They know,” Kairos whispered. Of course they did. Lycaon’s cult had already tried to murder Julia while she was pregnant. The slim chance that her child was a girl was the only reason they spared her. They probably kept watch on her ever since. “We are protected from scrying.”

“Orgonos’ magic cannot deceive ears, and people talk. There are traitors in your midst, my son. Always have been.” Chron’s shadow glanced at his wife. “They were watching your mother even before you were born.”

Julia’s eyes narrowed at her mother-in-law. “You were approached by the Beast Cult.”

“Yes,” Aurelia confessed. “They wanted to recruit me, but I denied them. I would not betray my homeland, even if it had banished me. I knew my children would return to it one day. I just had to wait.”

“Your children are in danger, nephew,” Panos warned ominously.

“As are many of the people present here tonight,” Chron added as he glanced at the crowd. “Look at them.”

Kairos did so, appraising all the Lycean [Heroes] and officers in the crowd drinking and eating one last time before a long campaign. They were looking for a fight, and some would only find death.

“Many of these officers belong to the families of the Senex and maintain Lycaon’s seal with their life,” Chron declared. "Rich heirs eager for glory or plunder. Many of them spent their lives surrounded by guards and stone walls, out of reach. Now they will venture into a foreign land, far from home.”

The father’s shadow locked eyes with his son.

“Is there a better time for wolves to thin the herd?”