Page 9 of Eryx
And then I grinned.
Axios knelt beside the stream, cupping water in his hands.
For the briefest of moments, I noted the way the sun bounced off his tanned skin and how it made his black hair shine.
I shook my head, ridding it of the confusing thoughts. Then, I charged forward, tackling him from the side. The water in his hands missed his mouth and splashed the front of his tunic, and he grunted as he landed face first in the grass.
“Hah! I got you,” I said, my mouth at his ear. He shuddered as my lips brushed his neck, though I wasn’t certain if it was from the close proximity or the cold water dousing his tunic. I rolled off him and onto my back beside him.
“I knew you were there,” Axios said, flipping around to face me.
I smiled at his lie.
“Such a horrible liar you are, Axios. Want to know how I can tell?” Propping myself up on my elbow, I leaned toward him and touched the edge of his mouth. “Your lip twitches right here when you lie.”
With a scoff, he slapped my hand away. “You are too observant.”
“No,” I spoke, laying back and looking up at the blue sky. “I just know you.”
Closing my eyes, I focused on the sun warming my skin. It didn’t warm me nearly as much as the raven-haired boy beside me, though. Axios’ friendship had brought light to my life, like stars in a night sky. I brought his face to mind; the roundness of his cheeks and the plumpness of his lips.
“I have not seen this place before,” I said, once again ridding myself of the confusing thoughts. “It is peaceful, is it not?”
“It is.”
“We should head back,” I said, sitting up. “They will be expecting us.”
He sighed and continued to stare upward. “Just a while longer.”
If we didn’t return promptly, we could very well be punished. Yet, I couldn’t tell him no. I felt how much he needed this; the freedom. Or, at least, the illusion of it.
We belonged to Sparta until the day we died. As it should be.
“As you wish,” I said, tucking my arms behind my head.
I couldn’t deny how incredible it was to lie there in the grass, eyes closed, and bathe in the sunlight. The branches lightly creaked as a breeze blew through the trees. The rustling of the leaves complimented the soft flowing of the stream. Peaceful. It was a word not often used to describe our day.
Once again, Axios taught me something. He taught me to appreciate these moments, however short they might be.
I opened my eyes and watched a bird fly overhead. The sky was mostly clear, apart from scattered white clouds that had started to roll in. For two years, Axios and I had been the closest of friends, yet I realized right then that I knew nothing of his life prior to theagoge.
“You have never spoken of your family,” I said.
“You never asked,” he answered, peering over at me.
I smiled at his evasiveness. I was the master at hiding things I wished to keep hidden. It seemed Axios was as well. “Consider this me asking.”
He exhaled. “My mother is a woman of few words, and she worries over me. I have a sister who is two years older than I. She is called Leanna.”
I studied him closer, wishing I could read his thoughts. Why did he look sad? He must’ve missed his family. Beneath the sadness was an emotion I couldn’t place, though. Frustration, maybe?
“What of your father?” I asked.
“He died in battle before my birth. I’m told he was strong, courageous, and well disciplined. Sometimes I wish I would have been given the chance to know him.”
“Sometimes?”
Why would a son not wish to know his father? My own father had taught me all I knew about being a Spartan. Though my time with him was cut short, I treasured the time I’d had with him.
