Page 131 of Axios

“Why?” A man called Kleonymos asked. He was the same age as Demetrius and still had a wide-eyed innocence to him. His father was Sphodrias, one of the commanders and companion of the king. “Why did he refuse them all?”

“None of them touched his heart,” Eryx answered, raising his eyebrows and smirking. He fancied the way the men hung onto his every word. It was a thing I knew without him having to tell me. “Yet, one day, Narcissus journeyed toward Mount Helicon. He was annoyed by the attention of all the young men and women who desired him, thus is why he longed to have a moment of privacy. And then he came to a pool of water.”

I leaned forward, placing my chin on my hands and listening.

“He was thirsty and knelt to cup some of the fresh water into his palms,” Eryx continued, mimicking the action himself. “But something then happened. Seeing his reflection in the spring, Narcissus finally knew love, and his heart soared at the sight. He admired his beauty in the reflection, awed at the sight of himself: the complexion of his smooth skin and his masculine face. He was unable to leave then. No matter how dry his mouth became or how empty his stomach, he could not move. His thirst and hunger became unbearable, and yet, he still could not leave from his spot. And so, he took the dagger from his belt and stabbed himself to escape the misery.”

“What?” I exclaimed, gaping at him. “That is a horrendous story. What happened after that?”

The men chuckled at my outburst, and some of them even shared my same look of bewilderment.

“He gained immortality by becoming a flower.”

“A flower?” Demetrius asked. “Well, they are beautiful. Perhaps it was a symbolic representation of him as a man. Beautiful, yet fragile.”

“Possibly,” Eryx answered, arching a brow at him.

Cassius slipped his arm around Demetrius’ waist and kissed his shoulder. It gave me an unexplainable joy to see the small action, and how Demetrius bashfully smiled and looked toward the grass afterward.

“Why was he unable to leave?” I asked.

“Some say he was cursed,” Eryx answered, plucking a strand of grass and tearing it apart. “That one of the gods was jealous of his beauty and wished to trap him for all eternity as punishment.”

“Where do you hear such stories?” Haden asked before shoving the rest of his food in his mouth and noisily chewing.

Eryx sat quiet a moment before answering, “My father. I used to have difficulty falling asleep at night, so he told me stories before bed.”

Out of all the years he had told me stories, I had never asked him how he came to know them. I had assumed he’d heard them around Sparta from the merchants who traveled in and out of the city.

Sadness swirled within me, and I ached to reach and touch my lover, but refrained from doing so.

Eryx held onto the stories his father had told him, the same father who had abandoned his men at battle and then killed himself from the shame of it. The father he swore to never become. And yet, it was evident he had loved him.

After the men left, we found a spot on the grass to sleep.

I held him close that night, instead of him holding me. He had not asked, but I felt as if he’d needed it. His head lay against my inner shoulder, and I wrapped both arms around him. Every so often, I’d glide my hand up and down his spine, trying to soothe him even though he hadn’t even hinted he was distressed in any way.

But I knew him.

He fell asleep before I did, but soon after, I succumbed to sleep as well.

At dawn, we awoke to the rain. It fell from the sky in a light mist that shifted to an outright downpour before easing up once more. We gathered our supplies and continued with everyday duties, not bothered by something as minor as rain, and awaited the orders about our next move.

The king intended to find a path leading into Boeotia from the south-west. The new route would take us through Mount Helicon and would, with luck on our side, avoid any Theban resistance.

We passed through the mountain range with ease. Almost too easy. Thebes would have known that was one of our only paths forward, so I wondered if they were hiding somewhere, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When we made it through to the other side, there was a small Theban force defending the passage as expected.

Defeating them was simple. Their small force of about two hundred men was no match for ours, one that was almost ten thousand men strong. Ourenomotiaunit was toward the middle of the lines, and we did not see any combat as far back as we were.

The men up front killed the defenders, and we went on our way, seeing the corpses of the fallen as we moved past them.

The rolling hills and deep valleys were mesmerizing the longer we marched. Or perhaps I had just needed any distraction from the boredom and paid closer attention to the scenery to provide it. Then, King Cleombrotus changed course.

We had been heading toward Thespiae, but had shifted more south.

“Where are we going?” I asked Eryx.