The blind Lion

Chapter 27: The heart of the lambda.

My eyes fluttered open, the world around me blurred and disorienting. A distant voice, faint at first, grew steadily louder, pulling me back to consciousness. When it finally became clear, it was a hurried whisper, insistent and ****.

“Kayn, Kayn! Wake up, come on!” Noor’s voice urged in a hushed tone, her hands bound tightly behind her back.

“Ugh... what the hell?” I muttered groggily, the weight of drowsiness still heavy on me. My arms strained against the ropes securing them behind me as my senses started to return.

“Good, you’re alive.” Noor let out a small sigh of relief, though her eyes betrayed her concern. “They hit you with a tranquilizer. Took you down hard.”

“Yeah, well, I’m feeling like I got run over by a chariot,” I mumbled, the fog in my head beginning to lift. “Still kind of sleepy.”

“That’s the tranquilizer leaving your system,” she explained matter-of-fact. “Don’t worry, it’ll fade in a few seconds once your body gets moving again.”

As I took a shaky breath, I glanced around. The moon hung high in the midnight sky, casting an eerie glow over the camp. Noor and I were alone, tied near the outskirts, while a handful of armored soldiers lounged around a central fire, their polished gear glinting in the flickering light. Not far from the flames, a large tent loomed, probably belonging to their captain.

“Where are the others?” I asked, my voice low but urgent. “Have you seen them?”

“They’re okay, I think,” Noor replied, trying to keep her tone steady. “Captured like us, of course, but I saw them take the siblings to that tent over there.” She nodded toward the structure, her expression grim. “It’s been maybe ten minutes.”

“What about Entinos?” I pressed, anxiety sharpening my voice. The thought of these thugs underestimating him, and then facing his wrath, was a worrying one.

“They chained him to a tree, further out from the camp,” she said, biting her lip. “Whoever these bastards are, they’re no amateurs. They know exactly what they’re dealing with.”

She wriggled against her bindings, testing them, but the ropes held firm. “So, jailbreak time or what?”

I shook my head, scanning the camp more thoroughly. The soldiers weren’t your typical ragged bandits, these were disciplined fighters, their movements sharp and deliberate, their bodies honed. “These aren’t just some highway robbers,” I said. “Even if we get free, they’ve got the others. If we rush in blindly, it’s a suicide mission.”

Her eyes burned with frustration as she glared at me. “You’re not seriously suggesting we just sit here and wait for them to execute us.”

“No,” I replied firmly, locking eyes with her. “I’m saying we play the long game. Think about it, they went to the trouble of capturing us alive. We still have our armor, our belongings, just no weapons. They didn’t strip us down or leave us for dead. That means they need us for something.”

She frowned, clearly unwilling to agree but unable to deny the logic. “So, what’s the plan, genius?”

“Wait for an opening,” I said, settling down into the dirt, my mind racing. I studied the soldiers; how they moved, where their weapons were, who was keeping watch. “They’ll make a mistake. We just have to be ready when they do.”

Minutes ticked by, the tense silence broken only by the crackling of the fire. Finally, one of the soldiers rose from the group, heading toward the large tent after someone inside called out. He lingered at the entrance briefly before turning and walking in our direction.

“Looks like that’s our opening,” I murmured as he approached.

The guard didn’t bother with words, grabbing me roughly by the arm and hauling me to my feet. Noor’s eyes widened with worry, and for a split second, I saw the fear she tried to hide. I gave her a reassuring wink, a silent promise that I’d figure something out.

The guard shoved me forward, leading me toward the tent. My heart pounded as I braced myself for whatever awaited inside, the worst-case scenarios playing out in my mind. But I kept my head high, determination steeling my nerves.

“Kayn!” The moment I stepped into the tent, Iris threw her arms around me, her embrace tight and warm, as if she needed to confirm I was truly alive. Relief was evident in her trembling hold, and I couldn’t help but rest my chin briefly against her shoulder.

“I’m fine,” I murmured, though my gaze darted around the tent, still piecing together the situation. My confusion only deepened when I spotted Ikaro, standing casually nearby with his hands untied.
“What... is going on?” I asked, frowning at the unexpected sight.

Iris let out a small laugh, stepping back but keeping a hand on my arm as though unwilling to let go entirely. “A lot, but I think it’s better if you hear it from him.” She gestured toward a figure who stood at the far side of the tent, poring over scrolls and maps spread across a wooden table.

The man radiated authority. Clad in ornate armor of crimson, black, and gold, its intricate design spoke of both rank and experience. A Corinthian helmet with a unique crest sat on the table beside him, bearing unmistakable Spartan craftsmanship. As he turned toward me, the weight of his presence filled the room.

“You must be Kayn,” the man said, his voice deep and steady. His weathered face bore scars from countless battles, each one a testament to his past. A jagged scar ran over his left eye, leaving it white and blinded, but the other was sharp and piercing, scrutinizing me with the intensity of a hawk.

Ikaro grinned, clearly amused by my bewilderment. “Kayn, meet our uncle,” he said, spreading his arms theatrically. “Grand General Dario Adreadis of Sparta.”

The general extended a calloused hand toward me, his grip firm and commanding as I accepted the handshake.

“Kayn,” I replied with a nod, “from Olympus, apparently.” My eyes flicked to Iris, who smirked at my confusion, clearly enjoying my struggle to piece things together. “Can someone please explain what’s going on?”

Dario motioned for me to sit. “Take a seat, son,” he said, his tone warm despite the lingering sternness. As I lowered myself onto a bench beside Iris, she quickly leaned over to untie the ropes still biting into my wrists.

“I apologize for the rough treatment,” Dario began, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I didn’t recognize my own nephews among your group when we captured you. To us, you looked like Persian spies or mercenaries looking for trouble on our lands. My crew acted on protocol. It wasn’t until I saw the siblings that I realized who you were.”

“Right...” I muttered, flexing my wrists to restore circulation as Iris gave me an apologetic look. “So, what exactly have they told you?”

“Everything,” Dario said, his lips quirking into a faint smile as he crossed his arms in an commanding stance. “You’re... an interesting man, Kayn. The kind of man Sparta would be proud to have in its ranks.”

“High praise from a Spartan general,” I said with a respectful nod, sensing the approval from Iris and Ikaro as they watched the exchange. “You know why we’re here, then?” I asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Indeed,” Dario replied, his tone growing more somber. “When I was a boy, my mother used to tell stories of the Erebosians, dark tales meant to frighten us into behaving. Of course, that never stopped my brother and me from causing trouble.” He chuckled softly, glancing at Iris and Ikaro, who smiled at the shared memory.

“Do you believe us?” I asked, my hope cautiously rising.

“Partly,” Dario admitted. “On one hand, I trust my nephew and niece wouldn’t travel across Greece with strangers just to spin a tall tale, especially after their father’s ****.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he raised a hand to stop me.

“On the other hand,” he continued, “you’re telling me that an ancient cult of dark sorcerers is raising armies of beasts and monsters to wage war on the heavens and destroy Greece. You understand how that sounds, right?” He raised an eyebrow, his look cold as if he was negotiating a treaty with us.

“It sounds insane,” I conceded, “but it’s the truth.”

“It is,” Iris interjected, her voice firm as she stepped in. “Uncle, you have to believe us. We’ve seen it firsthand.”

“I do, mostly,” Dario said, his tone reassuring.
“There have been reports... whispers of strange attacks on settlements, sightings of ancient creatures moving in organized groups. What you described happening in Delphi aligns with some of these reports. The problem, however, is convincing Greece. Even with my rank and influence, I’m just a man. Sparta will demand proof before taking action.”

“Can we at least warn the Spartan king and queen?” Ikaro asked, his tone hopeful.
Dario nodded thoughtfully. “I can arrange an audience. But convincing them of such a story, especially in the middle of a war, will be no small feat.”

“What should we do, then?” I asked, seeking his advice.

A smirk crept onto his face, a spark of mischief and battle-hardened determination in his one good eye. “You will need to make a name for your self here, that will give you a chance to garner some renown and respect here. After you manage to get that I will set up a meeting with the King and queen of Sparta, they will me more likely to hear you out and or believe you.” He said explaining his plan.

“How?” I asked, intrigued but wary.

“It’s simple,” Dario said, his smirk widening. “You will help me hunt the beast terrorizing these lands, a cyclops.”