Page 36 of Axios
Hope blossomed in my chest. But such a dangerous thing, hope. It had the ability to lift even the most melancholy of spirits before sending them spiraling back down into the dark abyss. And the ache left over hurt worse than it had before the hope had arisen, causing everything to seem even emptier.
I knew better than to carry hope, but I did so anyway.
“Do you truly wish to abandon our home? Our responsibilities?” he asked so quietly I almost hadn’t heard him.
I wish it more than anything.
Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.
“You know there is nothing I would not do for you, Axios.” He stilled the wandering hand that had been caressing my side, and his face grew serious. “But this… I cannot give you. You ask me to relinquish my birthright as a warrior, to run away like my coward of a father. Spartans do not run, nor will I.”
With those words, my hope crumbled to ash, and the beauty of the moment faded into a heartache unlike any I’d ever known. Unintentionally, I had let my daydreams get in the way of reality, and now that the truth stared me in the face—and struck me in the chest—I knew at last that my silly musings were nothing but a painful reminder of what I couldn’t have.
I rolled off him and stood before advancing toward our quarters. The day had lost its magic. The warmth on my skin and the smells in the air meant little to me then.
“Ax,” he called. From the proximity of his voice, I knew he’d gotten to his feet as well and trailed behind me. “Face me.”
However, I did not turn or slow in step. It was my fault for wishing on something that could never be, and it was wrong to place the blame on him, but no amount of reason coursed through me in that moment—only sorrow.
Many a times I wished I’d been born someone else. Life as a merchant appealed to me more than I could convey. The ability to sail the sea and go wherever the current took me—to have a freedom I was denied by being born of Sparta. In truth, Spartans were free, but in essence, I felt no more than a slave.
I was imprisoned from birth—forced into a warrior’s life, one where the only escape was death or old age.
Fortune was in our favor when we returned to the barracks. The boys in our group were still asleep on their mats and hadn’t been disturbed by the trainers as of yet. As quietly as I could, I entered the room and found my bed. Eryx did the same.
My back stayed turned to him.
Unfair and childish to treat him such a way, yes, but I was also ashamed at having asked him to abandon everything for me. I’d let my weakness surface, and more than ever I needed to bury it so it may not ever show again.
“Forgive me,” he whispered.
And I did not hear another word from him.
***
Guilt had wound its way through me all morning and settled in my chest, worsening each time I met Eryx’s stare. We hadn’t talked, and as the day droned on, the distance I’d put between us grew wider.
Forgiveness was not for me to give, for he’d done no wrong. Our views on life and devotion toward Sparta clashed, but our loyalty lied with each other, as it always had… and always would.
“Ery.” I touched his forearm as we stood at the edge of the arena. When his eager gaze fell upon me, I felt another stab of regret and withdrew my hand. “Let us put behind us what occurred earlier. I should not have asked such a thing of you.”
“I know the reason for you asking,” he said, looking away to stare at the two youths who were still practicing on the field. “You have questioned this life since we first met—defying orders when it was to issue harm upon another, refusing to look down on slaves, and consistently expressing whimsical ideals about life away from the city. I had hoped you’d accepted our ways these past years, that you’d found the same passion for our home as I do deep in my bones, but you’ve held firm in your beliefs.”
His tone exuded worry. And perhaps, frustration.
He was correct in many aspects, apart from one.
“Not often I tell you this, but you’re wrong,” I said, moving from my spot and starting a slow walk away from the arena. When he was at my side, I continued, “Yes, I’m inquisitive, stubborn, and live in my mind more than I should, but Idotake great pride in our home. When the time comes, I will fight for Sparta with all my might. It is only sometimes, in my weaker moments, I see how different our lives could be. And I yearn for it, Ery. By the gods, I yearn for it.”
I stopped and faced him.
“I crave a life where we can live in peace.” My voice was thick with emotion, and I forced myself to speak through the tightness in my throat. “Where love is seen as a strength and where our days are spent lounging by our stream, lost in conversation for hours on end. There’d be no sorrow, pain, and no darkness. Nothing but happiness and light. Love. However, I’ve come to the realization that dream will never be.”
Hot tears stung the corners of my eyes, and I hastily wiped them away, despising the vulnerability they carried with them.
Eryx touched my arm, a gentle caress that was there and gone in an instant.
“It may not be the same,” he said, “Not like the vision in your mind’s eye… but we can make a life together. Here.”
