It was awfully dark. Uncomfortably heavy. Like being buried in a shallow grave. Not that he had ever experienced such a scary fate before. He was too young to understand the fear of death or at least he was told so by the adults. The children around him were all silent, obedient and looked at him with distant eyes whenever he approached them. How did youth differ from being a weary adult in this place?

He took a deep breath and forced the hay covered animal skins from his small body. The air in the hut was unbearably humid, but the golden straws stuck in his mouth and nose felt utterly dry. He spat out the hay and wiped his face in agitation. The flimsy veil of moonlight streaming through the cracks of the wooden walls illuminated the scuttling of bugs around his feet.

Perhaps it would have been better to stay asleep, but the dreams that plagued him made him shake all night and prevented his body from resting. It was quiet. Too quiet. He needed to hear her voice… He realized that he was all alone in this suffocating place. She wasn’t here. She didn’t sleep by his side. This made him crawl over the ground in fear. Her bedstead was empty, the hay were she usually slept lay untouched.

“-sleep… -morrow-”

His ears perked up. Words were coming from the room next door. He could not tell who the voice belonged to, but he desperately scrambled for the door. He didn’t want to be alone in the darkness!

Unfortunately he tripped on some loose rock and slammed his face into the dirt. He silently cried out into the earth and held his pulsing leg. As he curled up and grit his teeth he could hear more of the voices next door.

“Listen to me please.”

“I want to, Danae, which is why I came at night like you asked.” A man’s numb voice echoed off the walls. “I just don’t see why we could not have discussed this during daylight.”

“Forgive me, I know I am relying on your kindness due to my selfish fear alone.” Danae replied apologetically.

She was there! Her soothing voice finally reached him. It made the thunder in his head go away. If he reached her, he could finally breathe again! To that end he forced himself on his scraped leg and stumbled towards the door. It was old, weak, barely more than a piece of wood placed against a gap in the wall. He pushed his body against it. The old splintered wood was not budging at all.

Why? He wanted to cry out in frustration, but his choked up voice could not leave his lips. He couldn’t breathe!

“You are a mysterious woman indeed. But I confess that I cannot distrust you. The kindness which you show to the animals and your son…” He stopped himself.

“He is asleep.” She seemed to answer his unspoken inquiry.

“Are you hiding things from him as well?”

“Please do not say it like that. He is just a boy.” She seemed distraught.

“I apologize. It seems the night has me caught in an odd mood. I came to let you speak your mind, not to interrogate you. Please speak freely.” He seemed to gulp down some liquid and exhaled slowly.

“Lord Dyctis, you are a good man.”

“Titles are not necessary. I am merely a fisherman.” He replied with a weak chuckle.

“And the king’s younger brother.” She added.

“That too, at times.”

They spoke as if they didn’t even know he was struggling behind the door. They could not tell he was fighting to join them. They may as well have been behind the well protected walls of a distant castle. He sank down the wooden barrier and pressed his throbbing head against it. The smallest crack of light hit his eye and blinded him. There was a gap in the door. A natural slit that had grown inside the tree it was crudely made from. He peeked through it and finally laid eyes on her.

Mother.

He could still not speak, but he could feel his heartbeat calm itself when he finally saw her soft features in the torch’s layered light. She was sitting with her legs angled backwards to the side and held a bowl of clear water in her hands. Her expression was… melancholy.

“Danae, you are no farmer’s wife either. When I fished you out of that horrible storm, you were clad in the finest garbs.” He could not stop himself from making inquiries it seemed. His curious brown eyes quickly widened in realization that he did it again and shifted to his own bowl of water.

“You are right. Noble blood flows through our veins.” She admitted.

“I knew it!” Dyctis seemed slightly elated. “You appear to be so much more, that is all I could tell. Everyone can. Even the foragers that live close by called you a rich merchant’s daughter.” He hastily added.

“I am just me. My lineage is not written on my face, I am sure.” She seemed uncomfortable with the perception of those around her. “Please promise me that you will not speak of this to them.”

“My lips are shut tightly. Until you are ready to tell them yourself I shan’t speak to any of the villagers about it.” He nodded emphatically.

“Thank you. I don’t want them to treat us differently tomorrow.” She smiled sheepishly. “The people of Seriphos have taken us in. Us, complete strangers without a home or past. The grace of the king and his people has moved me deeply. Especially yours.”

“I have done little but to give you a place to stay. This hut is not suited for living anymore, honestly. If you would just come to my home-” His urgent tone was interrupted by Danae’s soft headshake.

“I cannot impose on you any more than this. Thank you again.”

“I understand.” He said dissatisfied, but relented.

“Dyctis, this place could be our home. I want to raise Perseus here quietly until he grows tall and strong enough to understand the truth as well.”

She spoke his name. The motherly love with which she said it released the invisible grip on his throat and he finally managed to breathe again. His eyes nearly welled up with tears from relief. He wished to embrace her right now.

“He has grown into a boy already. When you held him in your arms back then, he was no more than an infant.” Dyctis spoke with a certain fondness as well. “I always wondered how a mother with her newborn had made it through the raging sea.”

The sea. The storm. The thunder.

Once again he sank to his knees and held his throat and throbbing chest. Memories he could not possibly remember welled up like the tears that had not come out. His mind remembered things he could not remember. The pain in his throat was unbearable. Mother!

“My father cast us out.” Danae confessed.

“You mean to say… your own father put you into that coffin?” Dyctis eyes widened in a mix of shock and outrage.

“Perhaps it was his lingering love for me that led him to do it.” She said with a tender expression.

“What kind of love throws your own kin into the cold sea?!” Now Dyctis seemed truly furious.

“Please calm yourself.” She begged.

“But you must feel resentment for his actions! Why did he throw his daughter and grandson away? Where was your husband during this?” The questions became more urgent.

“I am not wed.” She admitted. With her head lowered she waited for something, perhaps disgust or rejection. There was no mother on this island without a husband. A woman needed a man, a child needed a father.

But he had no father. He had only her. He only wanted her.

“Is that why you were cast out?” Dyctis was covering his mouth with one hand and gave her a thoughtful look.

“In a sense.” She sighed. “My father was afraid of my son, of what he could become.” She put down her empty bowl and filled it with more glistening water. The weak light of the candles was reflected inside it. “A seer told my father a horrible prophecy that his grandson would become a horrible murderer. Someone who would endanger our entire lineage.”

What? She was talking about him. He was the murderer. He was the misfortune that the seer foresaw. What prophecy had declared him the source of all disaster? Why did she look so sad?

“Who was this seer?”

“I do not know.” She admitted. “He met with my father long before my time.”

“So you believe that prediction?”

“I will never believe that my son could be evil.” She suddenly raised her head high and returned Dyctis gaze with pride and strength. “He is no murderer and he never will be.”

His strangled throat loosened and sucked in the stale air again. The words of his mother soothed his drumming heart, the dark specters that clasped his limbs were pushed away.

“Your father didn’t share your belief.” Dyctis surmised.

“He is very old and so afraid. I could not convince him to see reason. So when Perseus was born, I jumped into the sea with him rather than let him drift away alone.” She choked up a little and suppressed her tears.

“I am so sorry. I had not known your circumstances, yet I presumed…”

“Do not apologize to me. It was my decision, just as it is to tell you my story. You were the one who found us adrift in that storm. Only your courageous actions preserved our lives. I can never repay my debt to you.” She meant every word.

“If you really feel that way then reconsider my offer one more time. I may not be able to be your son’s father, but I can still protect you two. This kingdom is my brother’s to rule and he can be reasoned with. You will not have to toil away on a field or risk your life at sea as long as you promise to work for the palace. It may be below your former status, but it’s all I can do if you wish to keep quiet about your lineage.” He put a hand on hers and gave her a serious look. It was apparent that he wanted the best for them.

“You are right. You could not be my son’s father, for you showed him all the care that his real father never would.” A tear ran down her alabaster cheek.

“…where is that man now?” Dyctis let go of her hand and closed his eyes regretfully.

“He is watching over him, I am sure of it. One day… he will reveal himself to our son.”

His eyes were shaking. He saw a vision overlaid with his current reality. Danae sat in the hut, Danae was sitting inside a cold gray tower. She was holding a bowl – she was holding a golden comb.

The abandoned princess sat alone in her prison, humming a stray melody. The world outside the window was covered in endless gray. The comb went through her long, beautiful hair, painfully slow. A gust picked up her bangs and revealed her chestnut eyes that perceived the world in such colorless hues. She was waiting. Waiting for someone. Something. Anything.

Thunder!

The clouds outside were growing larger and more abundant. Distant thunder mixed with the crackling of light. They moved her way, overhung the tower and cast a shadow over the open roof. The plants that were growing in winding spirals through the wooden grates seemed to magically unwind, backing away from the prickling air.

The princess raised her head as if in trance.

Drip.

Gold. A golden drop. As gold as the comb in her hair. The first drop had touched her cheek and ran down like a tear. The sadness of her imprisoned mind taken unnatural form.

Drip drip drip.

The next ones covered her forehead. Three marks that ran like a crown.

She could not avert her eyes from the storm clouds that floated above her prison. The golden rain they released was like their tears. The warm liquid gold that wished to cover her whole and engulf her in a protective layer.

The comb fell to the ground and left behind a numb echo.

Soon the princess was drenched in gold, her eyes opened wide and her mouth shut tight, unable to scream. She stood still as a statue, the most beautiful one ever crafted. The gold seeped into her very being, seeking to unite with the woman, wishing to be one!

Inhuman, impassionate, it was forceful, yet gentle. Her mind was lost soon in the rivulets of gold and the world’s gray was drenched in the hues of shining metal and sweetest honey. Her skin was covered in its shining sheen, but it felt as if it was glazed in molten iron. This was not a protective shell, it was a suffocating embrace!

The princess was powerless until the very end.

When her mind returned the gold had been washed away by acceptance and shame alike. Now there was only a woman, completely bare to the world. For a single heartbeat she missed the golden skin, but then she wished nothing more than to shed everything, even the flesh on her bones.

As the woman sank to her knees she held her belly and gasped for air. It had felt like a lucid dream and yet she knew it was real. That golden rain had caressed her very soul and left behind… something.

The feeling of loss set in and her body shook in pain and revulsion. Tears clear, not gold, escaped her eyes.

The illusion, the present, the dream, they all overlapped and in all three he stood outside the door, unable to reach her. He banged his fist against the door and called for her, over and over again. He needed her to look at him, only then could he turn her eyes away from the things she should not face!

He would not accept it. He could never accept it. Not her, she was the only one who did not deserve to suffer.

The word that had been tied to his tongue, finally was loosened like the bow from a string. He rattled at the door and pushed his head against the hole. He called out again.

“MOTHER!”

He stretched out his cramped hand and grasped for the door. All he could fetch was the empty air. His sweat soaked hair clung to his face as he desperately called for his mother again. Yet the cold air received nothing but his hoarse incoherent voice.

It took him a few moments to clear his head and realize he was awake. The morning light stung his eyes, so he shielded them with his bruised hands. In his momentary blindness he was unable to tell where exactly he was lying.

“Gods, what torments you so?” Someone said close to his head. Quickly someone leaned into his blurry vision and pressed a cold wet rag over his face.

“Blegh, not in my mouth.” Perseus swiped it away and spat out the foul tasting drops that had entered his mouth. His survival instinct had kicked in late, especially because ever spot on his body seemed to be in unending pain.

“Y-You’re aw-w-w-wake!” That stuttering boy’s voice was all too familiar, as was the intense embrace he received without warning.

“Ouch.” He pressed out the pain alongside the air from his lungs. “Easy there, Ajax.” He frowned for a moment, but then he smiled weakly.

“I th-thought you wouldn’t wake up again! S-s-so worried.”

“I remember being inside a shack…” he rubbed his forehead and then quickly looked around. “It collapsed! How did you get me out of there?”

“Phokas helped me dig you ou-ou-out. It wasn’t easy, cut up my hands badly.” He showed off his bruised hands, although it was hard to tell if this really was from the digging or the beating he took yesterday.

“Who is Phokas?” He furrowed his brows.

“He’s a s-sailor who lives in the area.” He pulled aside some linen from their hideout and revealed they were resting in a hidden corner of the port. Their small boat was tied down close by as well. And sitting on top of that unremarkable vessel was…

“You!” Perseus forced his heavy legs up and rushed towards the man who was inspecting the badly maintained hull right now. In an instant he reached him and scared him nearly to death. He was about to jump into the water, but Perseus managed to grab his arm and pull him back. He instantly pushed him down and locked him to the ground with his body.

“No, please no more pain!” The sailor squealed and covered his head with his free arm.

“You are the man from the hut. Who attacked us? What do you know?” He gritted his teeth through the pain that went through his torso and kept pushing.

“Please stop that! Phokas is a good person!” With surprising strength, Ajax pulled him off the sailor. He then squatted down and gave the frightened man a hand. “He is scared, but he still stuck with me to make sure you were fine.”

After looking back and forth between his old friend and the timid sailor Perseus lowered his head. He had been acting overly cruel due to his horrible state of mind after that nightmare. There was no reason to manhandle the black haired sailor after he had seen just how much he had been abused. That would make him no better than whoever did this to him.

“I apologize.” He sat down cross-legged on the shaking boat and put his hands on his knees. “It’s good to meet you properly Phokas. My name is Perseus and you are already familiar with Ajax.”

“Mh, yes. Very good boy.” He nodded frantically.

“If it is fine with you, would you answer Perseus questions? Only if you can.” Ajax speech was unusually stable around the bruised man. It was like he was handling a child.

“Phokas is… I’m a sailor who went to very dangerous place. Barely escaped with life. Then when crew went to Athens all slaves freed and Phokas… I was left behind.” His speech was stilted and broken, making clear his foreign roots.

“You were a slave?”

“Rowing ships across sea.” He nodded.

“So when the expedition returned they ended your slave contracts and let you go free. Then you started working in the harbor on Hegord’s recommendation.” Perseus put the pieces together quickly and rubbed his tired eyes. “But do you know who imprisoned you in that rundown shack?”

“That is Phokas home!” He replied indignantly.

“…right. But who locked you in there and did… that to you?” He waved over the former sailor’s many burn marks and bruises.

“Hooded men. Bad men. Beat Phokas to tell them things, but Phokas- I not know.” He rubbed his greasy black hair with both hands as if to shield the head from another beating.

“They were asking you about Typhos.”

“Yes! Scholarman who paid ships. Phokas never spoke to scholarman. No idea what happened to.” His words seemed almost second nature as if he had spoken them many times before.

“He perished on that island.” Perseus said with a sigh. “Can you describe your tormentors?”

“Hooded, very scary, cruel.” His darkened eyes recalled things he would have prefered to forget.

“That doesn’t give us a lot to go on.” Perseus turned to Ajax. “Was there anything useful around the rubble when you dug me out?”

“N-Nothing, sorry. I dug around and found you shielding Phokas with your body and then he helped me get you out. Everything else was just rotten wood and ash.”

“Good men!” The sailor suddenly called out. “Phokas wants to thanks you for saving.” His head went almost down to the dirty pier.

“It wasn’t…” To say he did it unintentionally and on instinct would have perhaps sounded callous. “…a big deal.”

“Was big to me! Only got one life, so I have life burden now. Phokas will assist good men with everything I can.” He slapped his chest and winced at the burning pain.

“That is honorable of you, but we are on a mission that is too perilous for outsiders.” He raised his hand dismissively before his eyes widened. He had almost forgotten why he was even here. The reason he had made his way to this confusing and foreign port. “You were with the expedition, so do you perhaps know the way to Sarpedon?” He hoped against hope by now.

“Evil island of monster? Phokas knows route.” He nodded excitedly, happy to be helpful.

Perseus and Ajax looked at each other in disbelief and then turned back to Phokas with all their attention. They grabbed him by the shoulders and asked him the details so frantically that he shrunk back.

“Can you make a map?!”

“How many days will it take to get there?”

“Phokas- I remember how to navigate because I assist Captain Pelagios. But he better sailor, he captain. I not sure how good map I could make.” He shrank away a little.

“We should at least try! Let’s get a sea map and work from there.” Ajax seemed fired up.

“Our funds have run a bit low. We still need to get new supplies.” Perseus looked into his coin pouch and then at their dwindling resources. The barely covered holes in the boat that Phokas had inspected before were also a worrying matter. Now that the journey to the cursed island seemed feasible he was having more second thoughts.

“I w-w-will go again. This time there wo-won’t be anyone who can stop me from b-b-bringing it all back. Maybe I can find some ch-ch-cheap stuff.”

“No.” He hastily put a hand to Ajax chest to stop him. When he saw his distraught expression he decided to add more. “You are in bad shape and they already know your face. If these lowlifes find you it would be terrible. Instead I would ask you to watch over the boat and make sure that it won’t be found. Can I trust you with this?”

“…yes.” He nodded eventually.

“Phokas, you are not safe in this city and where we are going is even more deadly. There might be a place where we can get a map and give you shelter at the same time. Can I ask you to come along with me?”

“Will go wherever young master wants!” He said with a subservient tone.

“I am not your master.” He replied seriously.

“Phokas life is yours.” That was his unshakable stance it seemed.

Just another weight on his shoulders.

It was a sunny day in Athens and that meant people were both more active and sweatier. The hustle and bustle of the day was completely different from the quiet business of the night. The city never slept, but this was what it sounded, smelled and looked like when it had reached its full waking state.

Perseus had never seen anything of this scale before. The harbor was one thing, but this was like an ant hill made of people. It was almost unsettling.

Right behind him he felt Phokas shift around under the tattered coat he had been wrapped in by the duo. His burned and bruised flesh still stood out, but seeing the state of some of the slaves around town made clear that nobody truly cared about such details. It was like they were invisible in plain sight, the crowd could only see wherever the waves of desire would take it.

Their trek across the now illuminated districts was arduous and inconvenient, but eventually they reached their destination. The Akropolis. Perseus had seen it several times last night, but under the sun it was like a white beacon on top of the largest hill. Surrounded by a cage of walls and newly erected state of the art gate, this thing seemed prepared for a siege.

They climbed the hill carefully as they passed carts and the occasional wanderer. At the gate they were stopped by an intimidating amount of guards who seemed even more sleep deprived than the Nightwatch. It only caused them to be more irritable.

“Permit?” A long bearded man asked them, his eyes nearly completely hidden behind his helmet.

“We come to visit the Archon Themistokles.” Perseus replied with his head held high.

“You and half of the city. Permit.” He held out his hand.

“What is a permit?”

“Seriously?” The guard sighed and rammed his spear into the dirt. “No permit, no passage.”

Perseus had already experienced the joy of checkpoint controls at the harbor district, but somehow he got the impression that there would be little point in trying to pay off all these guards to let them pass. It really was a fortress. But with so many people coming and leaving there was still more than enough flow. That meant all these merchants and travelers had permits.

“I insist that you let us see Themistokles. He personally asked me to bring him any information he could find useful.” He didn’t budge from his spot. The guards glared him down.

“Show some respect for the Archon, servant scum.” The guards towered above him now and flexed their biceps intimidatingly. They apparently had mistaken them for servants due to their worn out clothes and lamentable appearance. If not workers they could have made for believable street thugs fresh from a brawl.

“This man’s information could be vital for the safety of your city.” Perseus stood his ground and put an arm before Phokas to shield him.

“Growing tired of your tall tales, boy. If you came here to beg for scraps then you can get them in a cell.”

“Or we will just give you a free beating. That should sate you rightly!”

They were not joking. It was a hostile and vile peace they kept around here. Perseus doubted their integrity and honor with each word that left their lips. Their refusal to listen to the words of warning reminded him of his king back on Seriphos. It made his stomach churn.

It seemed that a confrontation was inevitable. He counted his opponents and wondered if he could take them out before the gate would be closed. Then there was still the man at his back who was defenseless. The situation seemed more unfavorable by the moment.

“Will this take much longer? Not all of us have time for a friendly chat!”

They all turned their heads towards the sharp voice of a young man who had walked the path to the gate as well. He seemed to have skipped the line quite a bit too as the disgruntled faces behind revealed. His body was clad in the finest – yet also practical – himation out of anyone they had passed. His stubble was so fresh that he could only have come off age recently. And his youthful eyes were filled with more than just exasperation. There was a sharp glint behind the young exterior.

“These servants are making some trouble, but you can just show your permit to my colleague.” The long bearded guard pointed to the other line.

“There are only two men before me, so why should I change my line?” The young man replied and crossed his arms. “I have business at the palace, so hurry it up.”

The palace? This guy seemed to be more important than his appearance would let on. The palace was well visible even from downhill. A place build for kings, a remnant of the old Athens. Now the city was ruled by Archons and power was divided. That meant this man could have served any faction and it would be impossible to tell. Was this an opportunity?

“Are you working for Themistokles?” Perseus took the chance.

“Hey, stop bothering the ambassador!” The guard tried to grab him by the shoulder, but Perseus dodged him without turning his head.

“You got quite the mouth on you, hm?” The young man replied with a raised brow. “I know Themistokles, but I don’t work for him. And I thank Lady Athena for that bit of luck every day.” It did not seem like he was much more respectful than him. The guards all seemed at a loss.

“We have important things to discuss with him that regard the future of your city. Can you get us a permit?”

“That’s enough-” The guard stepped in, but was immediately rebuked by the young man’s raised hand.

“There is something about you that reminds me of someone I know. You have no fear stepping before the rulers of this city? Is your case that pressing?” He cupped his chin thoughtfully.

“Why should I fear them?” He tilted his head curiously.

“Hah. Why indeed?” He seemed amused for just a moment. “You seem the sort that he would get acquainted with. A stranger coming to aid a city that he does not call his home.” He put a hand to his head and sighed. “This isn’t my city either. Let’s see if you can be of use to her in ways I couldn’t.” He walked towards the guard who was ready to snap at the ragged men and pushed a wooden seal into his palms. “I will be taking these two to the temporary town hall.”

“Ambassador, you can’t just pick up any mutts you find in the gutter. This is a matter of securi-!”

“When I came to this city to ask for aid, I was treated as a prisoner and criminal. Yet the true villain sat on the other side of the table and ruled this city with an iron fist. My dear friend was the one who shed Athena’s light on these corrupt halls and made things right. To refuse the goodwill of others, to think ourselves above outsiders is what makes us more like that man. I may not be of Athens, but for the sake of our alliance, I wish only the best for Attica.” He took back the permit and waved the other two to follow him.

“But…”

“Archon Themistokles was a stranger just like them once. He should judge whose word he considers righteous.” Although he was young enough to be the guardsman’s son, he somehow completely eclipsed him with presence alone and stepped past the checkpoint. The duo followed him with measured steps and Perseus intentionally ignored the glares around him.

Phokas shook a little when they finally passed the gate and stepped into the Akropolis proper. It was a tightly woven district of architecture and splendor. The palace at the far end, the huge temple to their left and…

Perseus squinted his eyes when he saw the cordoned off rubble of a burned down building. Most of it was already carted away, but the destruction had left scars in the area that would not heal so quickly. This entire place reeked of barely hidden conflict. The tension in the air was still palpable.

“That is the old town hall. It was destroyed during the fight for the Akropolis.” The well-dressed ambassador explained after following his gaze.

“This place is still recovering.” He understood now why security had been so overzealous.

“It was far worse not too long ago. At least they finally scrubbed the blood from the walls.” He said with a dark tone and then urged them to follow him.

Perseus hesitated one more moment when he took a long look at the temple on the far left side. He was not truly familiar with temples, as Seriphos only had a small shrine dedicated to Poseidon, but he could tell from its splendor and location that it was the most important one. For this city that meant it belonged to the patron goddess.

His mind returned to the prior day and the words of the odd meddlesome man he had met. According to his advice he should have visited that temple before his journey to slay the monster. Prophecy and divine providence were important to journeys like theirs and yet… he had no desire to seek out the gods.

He took a few extra steps to catch up to their guide. Phokas always stayed right behind him, never leaving his side. The sound of sandals against tiled ground was increasing as they hurried along.

“I haven’t introduced myself yet. I am Therses of Eretria.” The ambassador spoke up as they closed in on the gates of the palace courtyard.

“Perseus. This is my friend, Phokas.” He dutifully responded and took a mental note on Therses. He didn’t ask where they were from.

“How do you know the Archon?” He asked instead.

“We met last night. It was a complicated matter.”

“I bet. Things are complicated everywhere these days. I envy father sometimes. Right now he is probably catching his biggest haul yet.” He muttered to himself.

“Is your father a fisherman?” That piqued his interest.

“He wasn’t always, but yes, these days he is the leader of his own fishing village.” He smiled with nostalgia.

“My master is also a fisherman. He is not very good at it, though.” Master Dyctis would have hit his head for that comment.

“Master? Are you two slaves?” Therses raised a brow.

“No.” He put a hand to Phokas side to stop him from making unnecessary comments.

“Your eyes told me as much. There can’t be many slaves as odd as him…” Again he seemed lost in thought as he reminisced. This Therses was a rather inward focused man it seemed. “This over there is the temporary town hall. We repurposed that wing of the palace to it, because the aristocrats did not want it to be inside the main building.” Was there a hint of bitterness in his voice?

They stopped before the slipshod gate to the courtyard to go through the same song and dance as at the entrance to the Akropolis. With this many checkpoints it would be very hard to slip inside. Therses took them under his wing without elaborating on their circumstances too much. Apparently he was a common enough sight for the guards to recognize him.

After stepping through the open gate they made a beeline toward the new temporary town hall.

“I’m sure that Themistokles will be present in his office or quarters right now. He is always working on something. The other Archons are likely not around.” Therses led them to the entrance and then stopped his steps. “My business is within the main palace. If you two would be so kind as to accompany these men.” He suddenly stretched his hand to the side and several armed men appeared.

Perseus tensed up and put up his fists.

“Please, there is no need. You can’t simply be allowed to roam around on your own, but these men will guide you to the office.” Therses calmed him down and released the tension. “Hopefully you won’t make me regret my actions later. May Athena’s eyes watch your path ahead.” He bowed his head lightly and then excused himself.

“Thank you.” He called after him.

Therses simply raised a hand in acknowledgment and left for the proper palace.

“The Archon is not in his office.” The guard told them brusquely.

“Then where is he?”

“That is none of your business. You may wait for him or return tomorrow.”

“We can’t wait another day!” Perseus refused the notion completely.

“Then you are welcome to rest in the guest room until you are satisfied. Do not wander and do not touch anything.” The guards in this city seemed to all have the exact same ill temper.

Thus they were led to the backmost room of the hallway and roughly shoved inside. Phokas nearly fell over and was caught at the last second by his younger companion. They both heard the loud thud of the door being shut forcefully. There were now loud steps, which made clear the guards wouldn’t leave for now.

“Are we guests or prisoners?” Perseus grumbled.

“Prison?!”

“Nevermind, I was just jesting.” He calmed the former sailor with a forced smile. The room was sparsely decorated and only had a couple of chairs and an old table for accommodations. Nonetheless, this was better than the one cell they had at the king’s mansion on Seriphos. That place always reeked of blood and excrement.

“Phokas never been guest in palace.” The bruised man took a seat at the table and touched the carved wood with reverence. “It different from home.”

He wondered if ‘home’ was referring to the now destroyed shack or perhaps some ship he had served on. Whichever it was, they naturally couldn’t compare to proper architecture and living quarters. He watched Phokas stroke the furniture for a while before nestling his head on his arms and resting on the table.

“It may take a while before we get that audience with the ‘king’, so you should rest. The night was long.” Perseus said amicably towards his companion who had helped dig him out last night. When they first met he had been boozed up beyond saving, so he may even have sported a considerable hangover.

“Phokas will rest a bit. Wake when Perseus needs assistance…” He dozed off nearly instantly. His oily black hair hung into his snoring face.

He smiled. It was refreshing to see such defenselessness in hostile environments like these. Phokas shared that trait with Ajax to a degree. Both seemed to be of an innocent nature, unlike him, who was only plagued by dark clouds in his deepest mind.

If things went well he could find a sea map in this place. It seemed well equipped and full of valuable information to guide the city. The sooner he met the Archon, the quicker he would be able to hand Phokas into protection and gain the favor he needed.

The windows outside showed the same sunny weather they had seen on their way here, but he could have sworn that there were some distant storm clouds…

Noise. He heard some strange noise and numbed voices all of a sudden. They didn’t come from the way they had entered, but rather from a side door he had barely noticed until now. He snuck across the flat floor and pressed himself against a wall. With his ear to the door he listened in on the other room.

“…impossible~”

“You know… just one more time…”

It was very hard to make out their conversation through the thick door. They didn’t seem to argue, but there was the occasional moan slipping in. Was one of them in pain?

“That is too far-”

“Shh, I’m just getting started.”

“You are… rogue…”

The first voice belonged to a woman, he was sure now. And she seemed to be in distress.

“Will… stop it already~”

“I have… thing for the fiery type. Resist… more!”

His shoulders stiffened up and he tensed his calves. From what little he could make out, the woman was in a precarious situation and the other person was putting her in a bad spot. This was the center of power and yet someone was being attacked right under the guards’ noses! If he ran to get them now it would perhaps be too late. He had no choice but to interfere himself.

He inhaled deeply and then pressed his shoulder against the door and threw it open with full force!

“Let go of her!” He shouted and grabbed the closest candlestick as an impromptu weapon.

What he witnessed before him made him drop said weapon immediately.

Pressed against a klinē was a woman whose clothes were in an extreme state of disarray. It was by far easier to summarize the parts of her body that weren’t exposed. In the exact opposite manner some tall person was perched above her, both hands firmly on the woman’s body. The person was clad in worn-out foreign aristocrats’ clothes and an array of scarves was hanging from their shoulders. By the height and outfit it had to be a man, but his face was not visible from this angle.

The atmosphere was thick with a certain desire, most likely lust and a little bit of anticipation.

“Ahhhh!” The woman suddenly shrieked when she saw their unwelcome guest and covered herself up with her loosely hanging chiton.

“Oh pissin’ nymphs…” The man hastily pulled up his scarves and spun towards the intrduder. “Ya got some nerve getting’ in my way just when things got go-”

“L-Let go of her, you fiend!” Perseus shouted with cheeks redder than the ripest of apples. His eyes darted around as he tried to find something to focus on and eventually he settled on the one-eyed man’s half-covered face.

“Do y’see me holding her?” He groaned with sharp displeasure, his arms floating in the air next to the quickly dressed woman.

“T-This was a horrible idea Irvenos! I have to go!” The lady stuttered and rushed out of the door on the opposite end of the room. Their rooms were connected, but each had its own entrance.

“You must be Até’s forsaken champion. That timing’s the worst imaginable.” He invoked the goddess of mischief and ruin with a hand covering his only good eye. “D’you have any idea how long it’s taken to woo her?” His piercing glare almost impaled Perseus.

“You… you could not have hoped to get away with it in such a place!” He refused to feel guilty for his actions. His heart was still pounding from the unusual situation.

“I’d have wagered against ya there, but now I look th’ fool and probably won’t see her for a while.” He put a hand to his slender hip and seemed to lose all energy.

“To force yourself on a woman so brazenly… you have no honor.” Perseus twisted his lips and balled his fist. Unwelcome memories sprang up in his mind.

“Forced? My boy, she’s more willin’ than a mewling kitten. And just as easily startled.” He flopped down on the now empty klinē and sighed. “I s’ppose I should’ve paid attention to next door, but nobody ever comes here.” He rubbed his scar covered eyes while seizing him up. “What, never been with a woman before?”

Perseus tensed up and turned away. He picked up the dropped candlestick to distract himself. The man named Irvenos was far too casual about their abnormal meeting to already ask personal questions.

“Haha. You’ll get there, provided ya improve your timing.” He crossed his legs and leaned back on the thinly covered couch. “Not an overeager servant I take it?”

“I am waiting to speak to the Archon.” He put the candlestick back where it belonged and took a few calming breaths.

“Shit, they put ya in confinement? You really are Até’s boy.” He adjusted his scarves and chuckled.

“Confinement?” His ears perked up immediately.

“They only put people here to wait until they leave. If ya got parked here, you won’t get an audience. Poor Themistokles isn’t even workin’ right now. He looked like death when he came from his nightly tour.”

“You know the Archon?” He raised some reasonable doubt.

“Archon’s personal assistant, Irvenos, at your service.” He made an exaggerated gesture with his hand on his chest. “Mayhaps not your service in particular. Don`t feel too caring for men who interfere with my trysts.” He added sarcastically.

“You don’t look like an assistant.”

“You don’t look like someone who’s got business with my boss.”

Their glares crossed like arrow fire.

“Master Perseus!? No harm done to you?” The cry of a worried and still slightly sleepy sailor interrupted their staredown.

“Where there’s one interloper, there’s always another.” Irvenos leaned forward and took account of the next intruder.

“Captain?” His eyes widened.

“Used to be one. Now I stay firmly on land or whatever these floor are made of.” He tapped his boot against the ground.

“Irvenos, captain of Lamia’s Lament! Phokas… I once moved oar for big ship.” He was showing them a mix of excitement and fear.

“Hm, an oarsman? Not that I could ever remember all of ‘em.”

“You know this lecher?” Perseus could hardly believe this coincidence. Irvenos scowl was visible even through the scarves.

“He very famous. Sold all slaves at Knossos.”

“Ah, you’re one of them. I had to change out the rowers after the end of the pirate war. Good times. Horrible times. We took fate by the day.” He laid down on the couch and reminisced without a care for their tension.

“You were a pirate? He is a pirate?” He pointed back and forth between them.

“Former pirate. Ya don’t have the quickest wit, aye?” Irvenos mocked.

Pirates were the scum of the seas, a blight on merchant ships and travelers everywhere. On Seriphos they had welcomed many visitors that had gotten into skirmishes with such criminals on the open sea. Nobody ever had a good word for them and there had been a great effort to eradicate them completely long ago. Like vermin they would always pop up again.

Perseus held great disdain for such evil men.

But when his eyes darted back to Phokas he doused his anger. A slave had little choice in the matter. He had seen just how hard it was for them to break free yesterday. They didn’t deserve to be punished for their masters’ actions. Which still did not excuse this unperturbed oddity in front of him. Themistokles had hired a thief to be his advisor?

“You’re here because of the Typhos situation, that about right?” Suddenly he hit the core issue without batting an eye. He had figured them out this quickly? He was far sharper than he let on. “Look, brat, I got my own misgivings, but if ya got somethin’ to share I’ll be willin’ to listen.”

“It is not for your ears.”

“Then you won’t get anywhere quick. Like I said, they locked ya in here so you will give up on that.”

“Why would Themistokles do this?”

“Nay, that’s not his order. The palace guards work for Topos and Pamphilos. And those two aren’t fond of outsiders, much less of those who ally with my boss.” He shifted around on the klinē and looked out the window. “A bunch of pompous peacocks tryin’ to impress a hen while they are surrounded by wolves. That’s what these aristocrats and their Archons are.” He cackled.

“And yet you work for them.” Perseus replied with irritation.

“Themistokles, he’s a different sort. He was guided here by our li’l priestess.” Irvenos replied mysteriously. “There are ties between our group that can’t be cut so easily. As long as he tries to protect this city and Eretria by extension I’ll do all I can.” He flipped his legs over the side and sat hunched forward. “So I ask ya one more time… do you want to tell me what you know?”

“I can’t. I need to speak with the Archon.” He stayed resolute.

“Fine then. He’s in his personal quarters, probably still sleeping off the fatigue. I’d ask ya to let him rest, but he’s the type who needs to be pushed around a little to work at full capacity.” He raised his arms in a playful shrug.

“You will let us meet him?”

“I’ll do even more. Those pesky helmets out there will help me with an important mission to make up for your interruption.” He rose from his seat and patted his worn-out clothes. Perseus had no idea what the former captain was getting at, but he was cautiously favorable for once.

They moved towards the second door and Irvenos took a quick peek outside. The guards were still waiting in front of the other entrance. He closed it slowly and then turned towards them.

“Well?”

“After I distract ‘em you need to go down to the ground floor and go as far in the direction of the gate as ya can. There are some living quarters. More guards’ll be there as well, but that’s for you to deal with. Work for your opportunities, that’s what my old captain always said.”

“Pelagios, good captain. Wise.” Phokas nodded.

“I’m real curious about what you could tell me ‘bout the old man, but that will have to wait for later. The longer we idle, the less likely I’ll convince them.”

“Wait please. Why are you helping us?” Perseus simply had to know.

“Because anythin’ that upsets them is a great idea to me.” He said with an almost visible smirk. Then he opened the door widely and stomped towards the guards. “Hey, did you see a woman run this way?!” He shouted with feigned anger.

“Yes sir.” They responded with barely hidden frowns.

“Why did you not stop her?? She was my woman, but she got cold feet at the last moment. Stupid wench. Now I gotta chase her all the way to the palace!” He fumed.

“Apologies, but it did not seem appropriate…”

“You aren’t paid to be philosophers, are you?” They shook their heads quickly. “Then don’t think and just follow my orders! Show me where she went and help me capture her!”

“But our post-”

“Will be taken by someone who didn’t mess up my intimate plans!” He smacked the guard for good measure and then stormed off. The men seemed to hate their jobs more than ever before at that moment, but reluctantly rushed after Irvenos.

The outsider duo watched this unfold with stone like miens.

They headed downstairs and avoided the patrols that were rather lax all things considered. The living quarters didn’t seem to be of much importance and nobody expected something to happen down here.

There were a lot of rooms, but they all had plaques that designated people to them. Now that Perseus saw all the lower class people living here, it seemed a bit strange that an Archon had a room among them. Perhaps it really was just to provide a break room for the exhausted man.

When they reached the last hallways closest to the direction of the gates as instructed, they found themselves confronted with two guards. They were standing watch in front of a room that obviously had to be the Archon’s.

“We need to distract them somehow.” Today was just full of schemes and roundabout paths. He usually preferred a more hands on approach, but he did not wish to risk getting the entire palace guard on his bad side.

“Phokas will do it!”

“What?” His eyes nearly bulged out of his skull when he saw Phokas just casually walk up to the guards!

“Guards very attentive, yes? You see Phokas?” He spoke to them like children.

“Who are you? State your business!”

“I very lost. Please show me way.”

“Get lost, servant…”

“Already lost! Show me way to guest room. Supposed to wait for audience there, but had to relief myself.” He rubbed his belly and groaned.

“You were being detained on the upper floor?”

“How did he escape?”

The guards seemed alarmed and walked over to grab Phokas. In that moment the former sailor spun around and rushed off.

“No capture Phokas! Too young to die!” He screamed and passed the opposite corner.

“After him!” The guards rushed forward and left the door unguarded.

Perseus couldn’t believe that this ruse worked. He also worried what would happen to his comrade once he was inevitably captured. In the best case they would escort him back to the guest room. If he wanted this to turn out halfway positively for everyone he had to talk to Themistokles.

For that reason he rushed to the door and threw it open. This time he had no run in on some impure scene, but instead nearly collided with the deeply tanned Archon’s face. They pushed themselves apart at the last second and both went into a defensive stance instinctively. Then recognition spread across their faces.

“Perseus?” The young Archon could barely believe his eyes. “Did you cause that commotion?”

“Zosimos, I don’t have much time. I went through a lot of trouble to get to you…” He raised his hand to take his arm, so that he could go out there and call off his guards, but…

“Let go of him!”

Something extremely heavy hit his temple at full force.

He could vaguely make out a woman’s huffing face and in her hands she held a half-crumbled bust. It had taken more damage than his skull at least.

Everything turned dark.

Not again.

Perseus’ first encounter with a woman equally headstrong to him caused him to fail the marathon at the last step. The shocked face of the Archon was the last thing he took to the land of dreams.