Return to the homeland and family.

Chapter 26: Family matters.

The Black Rose anchored its bow on the sandy shores near the capital of Sparta. Our journey had come to an end, and it was time to part ways with Basilius. The bittersweet air of the moment was carried by the sea breeze, mingling the salt of the ocean with the weight of unspoken farewells.

“Are you sure about this?” Basilius asked, his tone a mixture of concern and respect as he faced his horned companion. His weathered hand rested on the ship’s railing, as though **** to let go of this chapter.

Entinos gazed back, his expression steady and resolute. “I am. I think it’s my destiny to help them,” he replied, his deep voice unwavering. His eyes briefly shifted to us as we stretched and prepared for the next leg of our journey on solid ground.

Basilius crossed his arms, his brows furrowed as though wrestling with an unspoken argument. “You know that where they go, danger will follow,” he said, his concern for his friend’s safety palpable in every word.

Entinos chuckled softly, a rich sound that seemed to echo in the salty air. “My friend, you know I don’t cower in the face of ****. Besides,” he added with a small smirk, “I need a vacation.”

Basilius’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Very well, then. Know that you will always have a place on the Rose.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want my quartermaster rank to be taken from me. Though I’ve already chosen a replacement you might like,” Entinos replied, his tone teasing, his tail flicking slightly in the sea breeze.

Basilius raised his hand, and the two clasped forearms in a firm farewell handshake. “We will see each other again, my friend. I know the seas will bring us back together.”

With that, Entinos disembarked, his hooves crunching against the sand as he approached us. Entinos joined us, his posture relaxed yet exuding readiness. “I’m ready.” We turned as a group, saluting Basilius in unison.

The Black Rose slowly drifted away, its sails unfurling as it caught the wind, carrying the captain and his crew back into the endless blue horizon. For a moment, we stood in silence, watching until the ship became a speck on the vast expanse of water.

Ikaro grinned, clapping him on the shoulder with a familiarity born of shared struggles. “I’m delighted you’re coming with us, Horns. I’m sure you’re going to love the company.” Over the course of their shared battles and countless conversations aboard the Rose, Ikaro and Entinos had developed a bond of mutual respect and camaraderie. Their shared interest in strategy and warfare only deepened their connection.

Entinos gave a small nod, the corners of his mouth curving upward slightly. “Likewise.”

Iris’s smile was warm, her voice tinged with sincerity as she said, “We’re glad to have you with us.”

The group lingered for a moment, watching the waves lap against the shore. Then, we turned our focus to the road ahead. The forest loomed before us, its sparse canopy casting dappled shadows on the rugged terrain. Compared to the lush lands of Corinthos or Athens, this place seemed stark. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and earth, and a quiet energy seemed to hum around us.

“So, we’re in Sparta, right?” Noor asked, her arms crossed as she surveyed the rugged landscape. Her sharp eyes scanned the surroundings with an almost dismissive air. “Doesn’t look that impressive, to be honest. No wonder my people are having a field day here.”

“Sparta’s power doesn’t come from its resources but from its people,” Iris countered, her voice firm with pride. “You won’t find more passionate and strong-willed people in all of Greece, believe me.” Her words carried a reverence that made her heritage evident, her connection to this land running deeper than mere familiarity.

Noor arched a brow, smirking. “Are they all as clever as Ikaro, or is he just a special case?” she teased, her tone light but cutting, the glint in her eye suggesting she relished the opportunity to provoke.

“Hey! What did I do this time?” Ikaro protested, throwing his hands up in mock indignation. His expression was a mix of exasperation and amusement as Entinos chuckled at the exchange.

“Nothing. I just like jesting you,” Noor replied with a sly smile, clearly enjoying the banter.

“Alright, let’s move,” I interjected, breaking the playful mood as I returned from scouting ahead. My tone was brisk, meant to refocus the group. I gestured toward the path leading deeper into Spartan territory, the dusty trail weaving through the sparse woods. The group fell into formation behind me, the crunch of our footsteps mingling with the rustle of leaves and distant birdsong. Entinos’s imposing presence took up the rear, his movements deliberate and steady.

Unbeknownst to us, an armored figure watched from a ridge above, his dark silhouette blending into the shadows of the trees. Silent and still, he observed our movements with an unnerving focus, his polished breastplate glinting faintly in the filtered sunlight. After a moment, he raised a gauntleted hand, signaling to the soldier beside him. The soldier, clad in similar armor but lighter for ease of movement, nodded without a word and disappeared into the forest’s depths. The plan was set into motion, their intent shrouded in secrecy.

As the group pressed on, the sprawling plains of Sparta unfolded beside the winding road. Rolling fields stretched toward the horizon, a vibrant patchwork of golden grass and verdant green alive with activity. The sweet, earthy scent of wildflowers mingled with the sun-warmed grass. Grazing cattle moved peacefully, their low calls blending with the distant chirps of birds flitting between the trees. Wildlife darted through the tall grass, their movements subtle yet constant, while a faint breeze carried the rustling whispers of leaves.

Life seemed to hum all around us, a balance of tranquility and vigilance as prey animals grazed warily, ever alert for lurking predators. The scene was alive with a subtle dynamism, every element of nature weaving together in perfect harmony.
Without horses ,sold back in Corinthos to fund their journey, the group trudged forward on foot, their steps weary but purposeful. Selling the horses had been a difficult choice, one born of necessity rather than desire. The funds gained had ensured their survival, yet walking now through the expansive plains, they couldn’t help but feel the absence of their loyal steeds.

“So, this Dario guy…” Noor began, breaking the silence with her characteristically casual tone. Her voice carried a spark of curiosity, cutting through the rhythmic sound of footsteps on the road steps.

“Yes?” Iris responded, her voice tinged with mild resignation, as if bracing herself for Noor’s inevitable string of probing questions.

“What’s he like?” Noor asked, her curiosity piqued as she glanced sideways at Iris.

Iris shrugged nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t know, honestly.”

“You don’t?” I turned to her, genuinely surprised. “You don’t know your own uncle?”

“I was a baby when Father left Sparta,” Iris explained, her tone matter-of-fact. She gestured toward Ikaro. “You should ask him.”

As one, we turned to Ikaro, who met our collective gaze with a sheepish grin. He rubbed the back of his neck before clapping his hands together. “Alright, guess it’s story time. Where to start… hmm.”

“The beginning would be a good place,” I suggested, teasing him lightly to ease the tension.

“Might as well,” Ikaro said with a chuckle, his expression shifting to one of fond reminiscence. “Especially since Noor and Horns don’t know who Father was.” He glanced meaningfully at Entinos, who listened intently, his usual stoic expression softened by curiosity. “So, Father was kind of a big deal here in Sparta,” Ikaro began, his voice carrying a note of pride.

“How big?” Noor asked, her interest clearly piqued. Her tone held a mix of genuine intrigue and playful disbelief, as if sizing up the gravity of what Ikaro might say.

“Big enough to be called the Hero of Sparta,” Ikaro replied, his words landing with a weight that made us pause. The title alone carried a gravitas that spoke volumes.

“Right. Big time, then,” I remarked with a faint smile, trying to lighten the mood as the weight of the revelation settled over us.

“Father was good, what can I say.” Iris added, returning my smile before motioning for Ikaro to continue.

“Battles came and went, and Father was always in the thick of it, leading the charge with his younger brother,” Ikaro said, His words painted a vivid picture of their father, a man who had lived and breathed the art of war.

“I can’t imagine Dario enjoyed living in his brother’s shadow,” Noor said, her sharp mind already piecing together the dynamics. Her gaze lingered on Ikaro, waiting for confirmation.

“On the contrary,” Ikaro corrected. “Dario was fine with it. Father didn’t have an ego, so the glory was shared. Dario respected him for it and knew Father’s skill deserved recognition. Things only changed when…” He trailed off, his gaze distant as if reliving the memories.

“When you two came along,” I offered, understanding dawning. It wasn’t hard to imagine how the dynamics might have shifted with the arrival of Iris and Ikaro.

“Exactly.” Ikaro nodded. “It wasn’t jealousy over Father wanting a family. Dario loved us ,well, at least he cared for me when I was young. But when Mother died in childbirth… everything changed.”
A heavy silence fell over the group. Iris lowered her head, the memory of their mother’s sacrifice so her could live casting a shadow over her usually strong demeanor. Noor, uncharacteristically silent, placed a comforting hand on Iris’s shoulder, offering support in her own quiet way. Even Entinos nodded slightly, his eyes filled with understanding.

“After Mother’s passing, Father decided it was time to retire,” Ikaro continued, his voice softer now. “He didn’t want us growing up surrounded by warfare. It was Mother’s dream, and his, to have a farm of their own. And so, we moved to Helos. The king granted him the land and gold to make it happen. But Dario… he didn’t take it well. He saw it as abandonment of duty, and their relationship soured. I don’t know if they ever stayed in touch, but I know they never saw each other again.”

“So, can we trust him?” I asked, the weight of the story fueling my concern. If Dario still harboured resentment, it could jeopardize everything.

Ikaro hesitated, then said, “I’d like to believe we can. Spartans value family, even when grudges run deep. If he hears what has happened to Father, to us, he’ll help. He has to.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Noor’s question cut through the optimism, her sharp pragmatism surfacing as she looked around at each of us.

Ikaro sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Then we’d better pray Athena’s watching over us, because we’ll be fighting an army of beasts alone. Not that we aren’t capable, but…” His voice trailed off mid-sentence, his body suddenly going rigid before collapsing to the ground.

“Ikaro!” Iris cried, rushing to his side. Her voice was laced with panic, her hands shaking as she tried to rouse him as she was also shot with the sleeping dart.

Before I could react, Entinos slumped forward, his heavy frame hitting the dirt with a thud. Noor staggered, a dart protruding from her neck, before falling **** as well. My heart raced as I turned, catching sight of the small, sharp projectiles embedded in their skin.

Then I felt it, the sharp sting of a dart piercing my neck. “What the fu—” I muttered, pulling the dart out and inspecting it. My vision blurred, limbs growing weak as the sleeping agent coursed through my veins. The world spun, and I fell to my knees. My thoughts scrambled in panic, trying to process the ambush.

The last thing I saw before darkness consumed me was a pair of armored boots approaching. Muffled voices reached my ears, but the words were unintelligible, drowned out by the heavy fog of unconsciousness as it claimed me. My eyes closed as darkness enveloped me.