Page 34 of Eryx
Axios dug his feet into the mud to stay standing, but he didn’t strike me. He didn’t even block my blows anymore, as if he wanted me to hurt him.
I bruised his ribs and knocked the breath from his lungs, but even in my anger, I didn’t use my full strength.
“Why can’t you be like the rest of us?” I asked in a defeated tone, losing momentum. Tears pooled in my eyes as I stared at his bloody face and swollen right eye. “Fight, damn you.”
Axios swayed on his feet, looking as though he was about to topple over. But he didn’t. He stood strong, holding his head high. Gods, I’d beaten him badly. Staring at the marks I’d left on him made me hate myself.
Felix stepped forward, placing himself between us. “That’s enough for today.” He looked between me and Axios with a furrowed brow before addressing the other boys who’d stopped in their training to watch our fight. “You are dismissed. Leave my sight and go clean yourselves.”
Axios turned to leave, but Felix slapped a hand on his chest to stop him.
“As for you two,” he continued. “I put you against each other to observe your actions when given an order that went against your personal beliefs. As a warrior, you will face such challenges. I did not like what I saw. This barrier between you… tear it down and repair the connection I’ve seen you build over the years. In all my years of trainingephebes, I have not once witnessed what you share.”
Felix left us then and walked off the field.
He wished for me and Axios to be as we once were, but my loyalty to Axios tore apart everything I believed in, everything my father had instilled in me. There was a deeper reason for my cold shift in behavior—one that terrified me.
Axios stared at me, but I refused to meet his gaze. Instead, I stared over his shoulder at the field behind him. When he stepped toward me, I stepped back and finally looked at him. My gut twisted at seeing the mess I’d made of his face.
“What have I done to anger you, Ery?” His voice cracked on my name.
“It is not what you have done to me, but what you’ve done to yourself,” I answered steadily, even though I felt anything but calm. “Why can you not grasp the truth that slaves are below us? That you mustfightor you will die. Your weakness, my friend, is caring too much. Your heart is kind, but this is no place to be of tender heart.”
“I thought you liked that about me,” he said, and the ache in his voice matched the one in his eyes.
As I studied him, I felt my composure slipping. The strength it took to keep him at a distance was more than I could bear.
“That is why it hurts, Ax,” I whispered. “Your soul is pure and your mind—although not strong in battle strategy—is keen in other areas. I admire the way you see the world with such compassion. With such light.” I averted my eyes from his bloody face. “However, one day the light you carry will be snuffed out by darkness. I dread the moment when the gentleness in your eyes becomes cold as you see, at last, that the world is unforgiving and cruel. And I fear that I will lose you, either to the god of death or to your inner demons.”
It was the true reason I’d been so angry. More than angry, I’d been afraid.
Axios had nearly been punished the previous night. When Belos and the others saw his weakness for the helots, I knew they’d use it against him. He needed to accept our ways. The true extent of my fear had come from the revelation that I might go against Sparta in order to protect him someday.
Thunder rumbled through the clouds above us before the rain turned steady. Calm, even.
“You’re mistaken,” Axios spoke, shaking his head. “I already see the world for what it is. Only, I choose to rise above the flames and refuse to succumb to its bleakness.”
Needing a moment to ponder his words, I walked toward the side of the arena. He kept pace beside me. He saw the darkness of the world and refused to let it smother him. A good fighting spirit, but a person could only soar for so long before falling. Like Icarus and his wings of wax.
“You can only stay above the flames for so long before you fall back to earth and burn,” I said, eyeing two helots who passed us carrying vegetable baskets.
With their eyes on the ground, they hastened their steps and left our sight. Had they heard about me killing the helot boy and worried I’d do the same to them?
“Then I will be reborn from the ashes,” Axios finally responded.
I didn’t believe in rebirth. When we died, our souls left this place and went to the Elysian Fields. One day, when I died in battle with a sword in one hand and a shield in the other, I’d like to see those green fields of paradise. But not yet.
Arriving at the barracks, Axios hesitated before going inside. I suspected he wanted to enjoy the outside air, even though the sky was dark and the rain cold. I sat beneath the awning and smiled when he took the spot beside me. My smile faded, however, when I remembered the grim events of the previous night.
I recalled the soft smile Axios had shared with the slave.
“You fancied him, didn’t you?” I asked, moving my gaze from the willow tree in front of us to his inquisitive face. The question tasted vile on my tongue and my hand balled into a fist. “The helot boy. I saw how you looked at him. He was quite intriguing… for a slave.”
“Yes,” he answered. That one word stabbed into my chest like a sharpened blade. “I did not see him as a slave. I do not see any of them as lower than you or I. He was beautiful, and now he is dead.”
Beautiful. There was that word again. He found so many things beautiful, and yet, the only beauty I saw was the boy staring back at me right then.
His admission came with little shock. It was common for men to share a mutual attraction in Sparta. Growing up together, fighting together, created bonds between the boys. The kind of bond they couldn’t have with anyone else, especially not with a woman they barely knew. Sexual relationships developed, though it was rare for them to ever become romantic.
