Page 14 of Axios
“If we are to be victorious on this day, we cannot go into this blind,” he said before turning his green eyes to me. “We must stick together. Fight as one. Let them keep their lashes for we have something they do not. Unity.”
It was then I truly knew the power Eryx contained. Not just with his skills as a warrior but also his power of influence. The boys watched him with the type of respect I’d not seen them give to anyone else. Not Felix, Gaius, or any of the trainers. It was an admiration that couldn’t be forced or bought, but rather earned.
And Eryx had earned it.
“Some of us will be struck and our blood will stain the altar, but you must never surrender. Never show them your pain.”
The noise of the outside crowd that once had caused us apprehension became nothing but a low buzz in the background as he continued speaking words of encouragement. By the time we were instructed to leave the building and enter the arena, the attitude of our group had shifted and not even Quill seemed as frightened.
Of course we were still anxious, but there was a light in the darkness now. A beacon of hope.
The air was hot but dry, which was fortunate. When the air was thick and damp, it made movements sluggish and caused the heat to affect us quicker. Since we would be dodging blows and relying on speed, the day was nearly perfect.
Up ahead was the sanctuary of Artemis Orthia. It was tucked inside a temple of limestone and built upon a bed of sand from the river. A statue of the goddess looked out from a slight awning, her expressionless eyes focused on the outdoor altar where the ritual would take place… where some of us would be sacrificed.
We were the first round of youths to start off the festival. There would be two more groups after us to partake in the event.
Small cubes of cheese sat upon the rectangle surface and acted as an offering.
The festival used to be performed differently. Instead of cheese on the altar that boys attempted to steal, it had once been simpler, but much bloodier. The youths had to kneel in front of the priestess who’d held a wooden statue of Artemis, and they’d be whipped relentlessly until the priestess said the goddess was appeased by their blood.
I didn’t know the exact reasoning for the change, other than it was more entertaining for spectators.
In the center of the area was the outdoor altar. Four older boys with whips surrounded it. They smirked and snapped the whips as we approached as if to intimidate us further. One of them was Pericles, the same boy who’d been instructed to hit Eryx the day before.
My sight lingered on him, and he returned my stare. With a weapon in his grasp, he seemed much more confident than he had with just his fists. No matter. A rage still existed within me, and even with just my bare hands, I did not fear him.
We stopped when we reached the temple, which was to the right of the altar.
People surrounded us in the stands, some sitting on the stone steps while others stood and leaned against the posts. It was difficult to hear anything other than the roaring of the crowd. They wanted us flogged, our naked flesh tearing and causing the life source within us to splatter on the altar.
I cast a glance amongst their faces and clenched my hands into fists.
They laughed and pointed to us, and my mind filled in what they were saying. We weren’t boys to them. We were objects to gawk at and place bets upon. If one of us fell, ripped open and lying bloodied in the dirt, they would feel nothing but the loss of the coin in their pockets.
I despised them.
“Stay by my side,” Eryx whispered before his hand brushed against mine.
The contact was brief and to anyone watching it would’ve gone unnoticed, but I knew the meaning. He stared ahead at the small temple, and I watched him for a moment.
I could almost see his mind at work as his gaze danced around the area, calculating the distance each boy stood from the altar, how long it would take to reach them, and the speed of how fast they could crack the whip.
He was born for this.
Gaius came forward and addressed the crowd. “On this day, you will witness youths of Sparta exhibit their extraordinary test of manliness as they are initiated as future warriors,” he said in a loud, commanding tone. His black hair touched the tops of his shoulders, but unlike Felix who wore his in a leather strap at the base of his neck, Gaius allowed his to flow freely. “You coddle your young like delicate flowers, but in Sparta, we pluck them from their mother’s breasts and push them to their breaking point and beyond until they do not feel or fear pain. Do not register its existence. We strip them of individuality for a great army fights as one. All of Greece knows of Sparta’s renowned warriors. Witness how they are made.”
He motioned to us and then stepped aside.
“Begin.”
An offering of blood from each participant was needed before the game could begin. Even though my legs felt heavy, as if weighed down with stones, I progressed forward with the rest of my group. We stood in a line and faced the altar as the older boys gathered around us.
“Place your mind above the pain,” Eryx whispered.
Quill was the first to be flogged, the sound of the whip snapping against his bare back. He cried out for only a moment before silencing.
The crowd laughed at his shriek, and someone shouted, “Coward!”
