Kairos was younger in the dream.

The forest’s leaves whistled as a gentle wind blew through them. Night had long fallen, but the half-full moon and the stars brightened the skies above. Kairos himself had been brought back to his early days, struggling to hold a training spear too heavy for him.

“Why are we meeting at this hour?” Kairos’ younger self asked. “It’s so cold. Can’t we train in the light of day, when it’s warmer?”

“The most successful raids take place at night, when our enemies can’t see us coming.” His brother Taulas played with his wooden sword, cutting a falling leaf with a sharp movement. His hair had already turned white as snow back then in spite of his young age and his pale gray eyes seemed to glitter in the moonlight. He overshadowed Kairos in height, strength, and wisdom. “And the sooner you get used to the cold, little brother, the better.”

Kairos pouted, but didn’t question his elder. Taulas was big, strong, and even led raids nowadays. Uncle and Father both said Kairos should follow his brother’s example, and he would do so.

However, instead of teaching his younger brother how to fight with a spear, Taulas seemed more interested in gazing at the stars above. “Do you think,” he asked Kairos, “that there are people living above our heads?”

“Of course.” Everyone knew the constellations had been created by the Old Gods to immortalize fallen heroes, and Nyx was the night sky. “Why are you asking?”

“I wondered if it was possible to fly beyond Ouranos and reach the heavens above.”

“Icarus burnt when he flew too close to the sun,” Kairos pointed out.

“I know,” his brother replied with a snort, “but what if he had stopped at Stilbon or Hesperus along the way?”

“You mean Mercury and Venus?”

Taulas chuckled. “Ah, that’s right, Mom only teaches the planets by their Lycean names. Yes, I meant Mercury and Venus.”

Kairos scratched the back of his head. “If Gaia is teeming with life, there’s no reason there shouldn’t be people on those worlds too. You want to meet them?”

“Why not?” Taulas shrugged. “I’ve sailed far and wide with Father, but there are humans everywhere all the same. I wondered if the children of the planets above our heads differed from us scions of Gaia.”

Kairos didn’t know what to say back then. In the present day, after seeing how different the likes of the Abysseans were from men even though they shared the world, his adult self figured that the inhabitants of other planets would be unrecognizable.

“I don’t think griffins can fly that far,” his young self said with a sheepish smile.

“No, they can’t. But if Icarus could fly as high as the sun as you said, then it should be possible to reach the worlds in-between.” Taulas turned his gaze away from the stars above to better focus on his sibling. “Why a spear, Kairos? You can barely hold it straight.”

Kairos pouted, raising his wooden weapon to show he could wield it. “For the reach.”

“If reach is what you desire, then you should have chosen the bow.” Taulas smiled. “Unless you chose the spear to imitate Cassandra? Somebody’s got a crush…”

Kairos blushed. “She’s with Uncle.”

“Between us, I doubt they will stay an item forever,” his brother replied with a shrug. “Cass is a mountain, dignified, wise, and down to earth; while Uncle is like water, always flowing in one direction and then the next, never solid. You can’t build anything stable lasting on water.”

“You’re mean.”

“Maybe, but that’s true. I love Uncle, he’s brave and strong, but he’s never going to settle down the way Cass wants to. Once she realizes it in a few years, I think you’ll have your chance. If that dryad doesn’t make you a man first.”

Kairos’ head perked up. “You believe me?”

“I noticed her looking at you from afar. Pretty sure she’s waiting a few years for your manhood to grow a little longer before seducing you.” Taulas chuckled. “Honestly, I’m jealous. How is it that you’re catching a nymph’s eye before you’re even weaned?”

Now as red as a tomato, Kairos attempted to change the subject. “If Uncle Panos is like water and Cass like a mountain, what are we?”

“For you, Kairos, it’s too early to say. You’re still a child; like the wind, you can go anywhere.”

“You aren’t that older than me,” Kairos complained, wounded in his childish pride.

Taulas smirked. “Being a man isn’t about age, Kairos. It’s about wisdom.”

“Says the person Mom always scolds because he can’t sit two hours to read the Iliad.”

“Whatever, ask me again after you’ve chosen a class and I’ll assign you an element.” Taulas’ smile faltered, his expression filled with melancholy. “As for me, I think I’m like fire: burning bright while alive and bound to die young.”

Had he already foreseen his demise? “But once you get a [Legend], you could become immortal and live forever.”

“I can count the number of [Heroes] who survive to retirement or godhood on one hand, Kairos,” Taulas replied with pessimism. “We only remember the few survivors when in truth, most warriors die fighting one monster too many. And I’m fine with that fate. I would rather die young while my life is at its peak than waste away.”

If only Taulas had known back then, that his life would be cut short before he could reach the heights he yearned for… or maybe he already suspected it.

“Anyway, why did you choose a spear rather than a bow?” Taulas asked with skepticism.

“Since Uncle says we always need to enter melee in a raid, I can’t rely on a bow,” Kairos argued. “I need something good in melee, but with enough reach so that my foe can’t counterattack.”

“Why?”

“Because it would be stupid to give the enemy a chance to fight back.”

“Uncle Panos has done so many times, but his ax always prevailed.”

Kairos sighed. “I don’t have enough [Strength] to use an ax as well as he does, and swords are too short.”

His answer amused Taulas, who raised his blade. “Very well,” he said, “show me.”

Kairos charged wordlessly with his weapon, eager to force his brother back. But Taulas easily dodged his clumsy strike by stepping to the side and then grabbing the spear's shaft. He disarmed his brother in the blink of an eye and slammed him in the chest with enough strength to send Kairos face-first into the grass.

“Ouch!” Kairos complained. “That hurt!”

“You missed two important things about spears, little brother,” Taulas said, pointing his stolen weapon’s tip at Kairos’ throat. “First, the spear is a strong weapon, but it’s most effective at mid-range. In close quarters, its lack of maneuverability makes it a hindrance. Second… the spear means community.”

Taulas planted the lance’s tip in the dry ground.

“The sword is solitude,” he explained as he showcased his training blade. “In one-on-one battles, the sword always wins. But there’s a reason we speak of spear walls rather than sword walls. In groups where they cover each other’s blind spots, the spears truly shine. It’s even more powerful when you ride on a horse, when the beast lets you retreat before you can be caught in close quarters.”

Kairos gulped as he absorbed the words in silence.

“If you want to master the spear,” Taulas said before offering his brother his hand, “start by making friends.”

Kairos chuckled as he grabbed his brother’s arm. “Is that your way of telling me that I should go out more often, brother?”

“You should go out more often,” Taulas replied as he helped his brother stand back on his feet. “And feint rather than charge mindlessly.”

“I did use a feint, I didn’t shout a warning!” His elder brother exploded in laughter at Kairos’ naive words. “It’s not funny!”

“Your body language speaks louder than words, as does your gaze.” Taulas took a few steps back. “You’re sneaky, Kairos, but you can’t skip the basics. Let’s focus on your thrust before we move on to more complex maneuvers. I want you to hit a tree until you fall down from exhaustion.”

Kairos pouted, but grabbed his spear and did as his elder commanded. “Taulas?”

“Yes?”

“You say the sword is solitude,” Kairos pointed out, “but you have so many friends.”

Taulas gave him a smile that… wasn’t truly a smile. “I don’t have any friends, Kairos. I have followers. People flock to me because I’m strong and because they think I’ll get a [Legend], but they don’t know me. Even when surrounded by allies, I feel alone.”

“Even with us?”

Taulas laughed and patted Kairos on the head. “Except with family, little brother,” he said. “You’re my pack. That will never change.”

Kairos awoke with his throat on fire.

His vision was blurry, his spine and shoulder bones so painful he thought was sleeping on a bed of spikes. His body trembled and shook feverishly as his eyes struggled to distinguish colors around him.

“Lady…” The lines of a woman’s visage appeared at his left, though Kairos failed to understand what she said. The Travian King mistook her for Julia for a few seconds, but the face was haughtier and less graceful. “Wake...”

Where am I? Kairos thought, his eyes noticing the [Golden Fleece] covering his chest; though he failed to lift his head to see farther. A bed? Where’s… where’s Taulas?

“He’s waking up again.” As his eyes and ears acclimated to the waking world, Kairos recognized the woman at his left as Sertorius’ wife Lucretia and the ceiling as that of his royal tent. “Careful, King Kairos. Do not try to move abruptly.”

“A… again?” Kairos whispered, his throat sore. He couldn’t feel his legs, let alone move them.

“You have woken up three times already, my love.” The reassuring face of Andromache appeared on his right, her warm fingers caressing her companion’s forehead. “Once, you even mistook me for your mother.”

This time, he had become lucid enough that the System gave him a notification.

Congratulations! You have gained four levels (total 72) and 16 Skill Points!

Only four levels? As far as the System was concerned, the death of ten thousand soldiers and a dragon meant little to a [Demigod].

“That's… embarrassing…” Kairos tried to speak, but he could barely mutter half of what he meant to say. “How long…”

“Since you last woke up?” Lucretia asked. “Days. Lady Andromache and I have been at your side constantly.”

“And I expect you to fall asleep again soon, my other half,” Andromache said with a sigh. “It will be weeks before you can leave this bed.”

Kairos tried to rise up anyway, refusing to surrender himself to such weakness… and barely managed to move his bandaged fingers. Damn it! “Rook…”

Andromache’s pained expression raised alarms in Kairos’ mind. “He’s alive, but just as wounded as you are. Agron and I are forging him a new wing.”

“A… a new…” Kairos rasped.

“No spell could regrow the wing that the dragon took from him,” Andromache explained. “But the knowledge of the Telchines made replacing it possible. We had to sacrifice a few Orthian soldiers to mix their blood with metal, but once we are finished, our beloved bird will fly again.”

Under normal circumstances, Kairos would have felt sadness for Rook’s amputation. Instead, his heart was filled with relief. His best friend was alive, and that was what truly mattered.

The memory of the dragon’s death and Mithridates’ teleporting away flashed in Kairos’ mind, immediately causing him to shake in impotent anger. “Mithri… dates…”

“Wounded and out of commission, King Kairos,” Lucretia replied with a soothing tone as she applied a cold towel to his forehead. It made his vision even blurrier, but the pain lessened. “You won a great victory and sent the Thessalans running.”

“We have the upper hand for now,” Andromache said with a smile as she cast a healing spell on him. Kairos didn’t feel any better however. “Cassandra keeps Zama busy and the Thalassocrator moved east to destroy the rebels, abandoning Orthia. Your brother-in-law is besieging the city as we speak.”

Good. Good, very good. Kairos would rather have learned of Mithridates’ death, but having incapacitated him for a while gave him some comfort. I hope he suffers like Prince Critias did, the Travian King thought. The Orthian child had perished by being burnt alive, and hopefully, Mithridates would experience an ounce of his pain.

“Sertorius…” Kairos glanced at Lucretia. “Why… you not… with him?”

Lucretia’s expression turned into a displeased sneer. “My husband is barely paying attention to me nowadays, so I decided to move on to better company. Either he is sending letters across the Sunsea and directing the siege, or trying to convince that stubborn queen to order her soldiers to stand down.”

“I find her stalwartness refreshing,” Andromache admitted. “It’s a welcome change from the craven, the traitors and the fools I’ve grown used to.”

“I suppose I should be thankful for it too,” Lucretia said with a snort. “I’m sure my husband promised her the moon, and a wiser woman would have negotiated.”

Andromache gave her a rare look of sympathy. “I should not speak of this,” she said, “but I am thankful for the assistance you gave me in treating my other half, so I shall not keep silent. The Stymphalian birds report to me what they hear around the camp. Your husband offered a matrimonial alliance with the Orthian Queen.”

Lucretia didn’t appear surprised, though her jaw clenched all the same. “What kind?”

“He would declare her as a vassal queen of Lyce, if she would order the Orthian defenders to surrender the Shield-City and take a ‘Lycean officer of good standing’ as a lawful husband.”

“Of course, I assume he avoided mentioning the name of the lucky chosen.” Lucretia squinted at Andromache. “Did she accept?”

“She told him that she would rather have a spear in her lady parts than a Lycean cock,” the nymph replied with a predatory smirk.

Lucretia chuckled, before glancing at Kairos’ private parts. “Between us,” she said with a cruel smirk. “His is bigger than my husband’s.”

Kairos winced in his bed. “Am I… did the blast…”

“Your manhood is intact, my love,” Andromache reassured him with amusement, a hand on her belly. “We can still give Nessia a sibling.”

Lucretia glanced at Andromache’s womb with undisguised jealousy. “Even the [Golden Fleece] failed to quicken my womb,” she admitted, her fingers trembling in rage. “When the healers confirmed it, my husband dared to ask them if I was barren. And now he already schemes to replace me…”

“Could be… anyone…” Kairos rasped, trying to defend his brother-in-law. He didn’t believe for a second that Sertorius would be stupid enough to risk a split with Dispater at the risk of threatening the war effort. “Officers… many…”

Lucretia looked at him with skepticism. “This is how my husband works, King Kairos. He plays with his cards close to his chest to keep an aura of plausible deniability and tests the waters. But I don’t doubt for a second that he’s considering a more fertile wife. He has already taken a dirty foreign concubine from the spoils of war. How unsightly.”

Andromache’s eyes turned murderous.

“No offense to you, Lady Andromache,” Lucretia said upon realizing her mistake. She adjusted her position on her seat. “I wouldn’t mind as much if my position was secure.”

“Position…” Kairos struggled to follow the discussion, his mind threatening to slip away from the waking world and wander back into dreams of the past. The face of Lucretia blurred with that of Julia, much to the Travian King’s confusion. “Do you… love… love…”

Julia looked at him, her face morphing back into Lucretia’s. She was too good to cry, but she didn’t hide her anguish and disappointment.

“I did,” she admitted, her voice brimming with bitterness. “I tried dearly. I didn’t even think of another man since we wed. ‘My wife must be above suspicion,’ my husband said, and I lived up to it. And for a while, we got along well. But as I failed to give him a male heir, his patience turned to frustration and blame.”

Andromache’s gaze softened as she heard the other woman speak, no doubt empathizing with her bitterness. “It could be his fault.”

“I’m sure it is, but he can’t admit it. For all of his intelligence, his pride as a man and as an heir of the Senex blind him to the obvious. He would rather throw me aside once my father’s support is no longer useful to him than admitting the truth to himself.”

Though he wasn’t certain if he should get involved, Kairos couldn’t help but feel pity upon seeing Lucretia’s crushed expression. “At worst… you can… someone else…”

Lucretia raised an eyebrow, Kairos’ vision blurring as he tried to decipher her expression. “At worst, I will inherit part of my father’s fortune and live comfortably,” she said. “But I will never recover from the public humiliation. All of Lyce will only see me as the woman not good enough for its new shining first citizen.”

“Then… Histria…” Kairos argued before coughing blood. He noticed darkness encroaching at the edge of his gaze.

Andromache immediately poured something bitter down his throat, though he failed to recognize the color. “You should not speak…my other half.” Though the nymph’s voice sounded reassuring, Kairos failed to understand half the words. “Rest…”

“Thank… proposal…”

“Beautiful… island… love it…”

The two women’s words turned into background noise while Kairos’ vision blurred once again. The tent’s ceiling turned into the night sky of Travia, the golden fleece into a wolf pelt. The Travian King shivered as he regressed to his childhood once more, seeking shelter close to a campfire.

The moon was red and wolves howled in the woods.

Beasts called for his blood.

“Taulas?” young Kairos called out fearfully, his breath turning into mist. His hand moved to grab his spear’s shaft as he noticed movement in the darkness. “Brother?! Brother, I’m scared!”

The darkness shuddered while the fire flickered.

“Brother!” Kairos cried. “Brother!”

Strong arms grabbed him from behind.

“I’m here,” his brother whispered, his warm arms holding Kairos close to his chest. “It’s okay. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

‘Liar,’ Kairos thought as the campfire died and the darkness swallowed them both.