Herodotos was flung across the air, the blue of the sky mixing with the green and brown of the forest, turning into a nauseating blur. Finally, he crashed into a tree trunk, coughing as he felt his bones groan from the pressure. For a moment, he was worried he had snapped his spine, but after testing his limbs, he felt relief wash over him, as he was able to move all of his limbs.

  Using a tree as support, he slowly got back to his feet. Looking around, he found himself on the far side of the basin, the middle of which was occupied by the winged drake. It was locked in combat with Aster and Lexia, bronze weapons intertwining with claws. Occasionally, a bronze weapon's runes would ignite before the weapon would discharge the stored energy, creating a piercing strike.

  The wounded winged drake used its powers to pick up debris around itself to form shields while simultaneously using them as offensive weapons. Standing where he was, Herodotos could sense the immense power that the creature before him held. A layman wouldn't have been able to tell, simply because they couldn't compare the raw amount of power between the two parties, but Herodotos knew that Aster and Lexia would have a hard time beating the creature.

  Even wounded as it was, the total raw power it held was several times that of Herodotos. He dreaded fighting the creature if it were at its peak. Herodotos skirted around the edge of the battlefield, avoiding drawing attention to himself by not using any of his powers. He kept an eye open for his brother, who had separated from him during the previous blast. Another blast came from the centre of the basin, as Aster sacrificed one of his swords to create an opening for his blades to slip past the winged drake's defense.

  It seemed Aster was going for the wings, but before Aster could deal the critical blow, the drake raised its wings, sending the blades flying every which way. Unseen to a mortal's eye, the drake placed several hits using its powers at hard angles, diverting their momentum and ensuring they missed their intended target. This technique was more difficult, however, it saved a lot more energy when fighting mythical opponents.

  The winged drake retaliated, striking and swiping at Aster and Lexia, forcing them on the back foot. The two scattered, one pulling left and the other right of the beast. The winged drake focused on Aster, lunging at him with its maw ripped open, rows of sharp teeth snapping at Aster. The royal prince dashed backward, sending another bronze blade at the beast's maw. The runes on the sword lit up, the already spent enchantment igniting, the power boiling over, causing the blade to combust into dozens of tiny pieces of bronze shrapnel.

  Most of the bits of bronze were directed at the drake, where they were harmlessly absorbed into a boulder, spreading cracks all over the giant rock. The boulder, which had been levitating in front of the winged beast, accelerated towards the side, aimed at Lexia, who was forced to jump out of the way once more.

  So it continued that nothing could inflict serious injury, no matter what Aster and Lexia threw at the winged drake. The most they achieved was exacerbating the wounds the beast already had. Herodotos kept himself out of the battle, instead searching for his brother. He finally found him on the other side of the basin, when suddenly a boulder flung by Lexia, who had used up all her needles, was deflected by the winged drake and landed in front of Telamon, cutting off his escape route.

  Herodotos was closer to the top of the hill above the path where Telamon was. Just as he was about to call out to him, three people appeared, a woman and two men, cutting off Telamon's escape route. They carried spears in their hands, with grim expressions, especially that of the woman, who appeared to be in charge. Herodotos gripped his sword tightly, ready to unleash it at a moment's notice.

  The woman opened her mouth and started speaking, instructing his brother not to head to Victoria city, revealing herself to be their ally. Herodotos watched, but didn't interfere, deciding that his brother's life wasn't in danger right this moment. The two men who appeared to be her subordinates reacted in two very different ways. One at first showed surprise, but then quickly understanding dawned on his face, and he lowered his spear.

  The other, however, started shouting and waving his spear around. It seemed as if the woman was about to say something, but the first man drove his spear through the one who was shouting around, letting him collapse with a shocked expression to the ground, drowning in his blood.

  The woman said some weird things about how Telamon killed the man, seemingly intending to cover things up. Telamon skirted around the gurgling man, taking off once he had a clear escape route. All the while, Herodotos remained with his sword at the ready in case they tried anything.

  The woman spoke up again, but Herodotos wasn't listening anymore, as something else drew his attention. From the man's body, as soon as the man breathed his last, rose an exact replica, only this one was translucent and without the spear driven through his chest. Before the man could take in his surroundings, ghostly roots emerged from the ground, latching onto the man and pulled him underground, where he was suddenly dragged away at high speeds towards the setting sun.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  Once more, Herodotos became aware of the pull that tugged at his innermost part of himself. He was broken out of his trance by the sound of rustling footsteps as someone approached him from behind. He whipped around, pulling his sword from its sheath, only to be met by his brother's form, hands in the air.

  "Whoa there, easy, it's me." Herodotos relaxed, exhaling a nervous breath. Telamon dropped his hands and approached Herodotos, looking down at the boulder that had previously cut off his escape route. "I saw you out of the corner of my eye when they cornered me, so I knew I was somewhat safe. It's also why I didn't try to escape immediately. What do you think about what that captain said?"

  Herodotos was about to respond when a roar interrupted him, drawing his attention to the centre of the basin. There, the winged drake spat flames aimed at Aster, forcing him to dodge, yet the flames twisted unnaturally mid-flight and hit him squarely in the chest, dropping him to the ground. Lexia intensified her assault, distracting the winged drake from finishing the young prince.

  Soon, a squad of guards appeared under the leadership of that female captain and transported the wounded Aster away. Herodotos turned to Telamon. "Let's get out of here first." Telamon nodded, his face reflecting the same fear that gripped Herodotos' heart. Together they made their way across the basin, opposite from the other humans, and continued their way westwards, towards the mountain chain in the far distance.

  When leaving, they took one last look at the basin, seeing Lexia retreat, alongside the remaining humans. Herodotos let out a relieved breath when he saw her escape safely. The winged drake, in turn, dragged its tired body and collapsed into the middle of the basin. It used its tongue to lick away its blood, most of which were from old wounds that had ripped open.

  The brothers crested the top of the hill, the winged drake once more hidden from view, left to tend to its wounds. Only then did they allow themselves to breathe, relieved that they had somehow escaped whole and unharmed. Now that they were out of harm's way, Herodotos continued their previous conversation while collapsing and leaning on a tree.

  "I don't know how to feel about this. On one hand, we absolutely must save our father, but on the other hand, I fear that the captain spoke the truth. Add to that, the pull that I've been feeling has only gotten stronger. When that man died, the same thing happened as with Troy, the merchant. A ghostly version of the man stood up, shortly before getting tangled up in roots and being pulled away. He was taken towards the west, towards the mountain range."

  Telamon nodded while sitting down on a collapsed log. After taking a second to mull over his words, Telamon spoke up in a careful tone. "The way I see things, we have two options. First, we can follow the advice of both Lexia and her captain and head west, following whatever intuition is guiding you. The second option is that we disregard all that and head to Victoria City, in the slim chance that we will be able to reach it in time, knowing full well that if father is still alive, he will most definitely be used as bait to lure us out of hiding. If you ask me, there is only one obvious choice, even if it is the more unpleasant one."

  Herodotos shook his head in anguish. "We can't just leave and abandon our father. Can we?" The last question carried a hint of desperation, as if he were a small child asking for permission. Telamon's heart bled, yet it fell on him to bear this role. "Father knew what awaited him the moment he decided not to come with us and stayed behind. It is only because he drew their attention that we were even able to make it to Synoro City. If I'm fully honest, I kind of expected what that woman told us. This only served to prove my convictions."

  Telamon hung his head in shame, not daring to look up at his brother. Herodotos let out a shaky sigh, his eyes stinging. He revealed a self-deprecating smile. He truly felt pathetic. Of course, he knew what Telamon had said. He had known since the very beginning that they would never see their father again. He had known the last time he looked into his father's eyes. Those eyes weren't those of a man who was planning on living for much longer.

  He had foolishly deluded himself into believing that everything would work out, as that was easier than facing the reality that his father sacrificed himself for him, as a consequence of his failure. Everything that had happened was his fault. It was because he had revealed himself to those hunters in the jungle surrounding Victoria City that they were discovered, and their hunt had begun. It was because of him that his father was either dead or soon to be.

  And yet, even with his failure, his father still chose to stay behind and buy him and Telamon time to escape. Herodotos felt hopeless and lost, but knew he had to continue, as anything less would be dishonoring his father's sacrifice. But saying that it was all entirely his fault was wrong as well.

  It was all because of that city lord Feidi and the bloody queen. They couldn't let matters rest and just had to continue the war that had ended with Mundus' death. He was willing and even looking forward to living a quiet life in the countryside, not bothering anyone, yet they were too fixated on finishing their fight, dragging on a conflict that had long ended.

  Herodotos gripped his fist and rubbed his eyes. Standing up, he felt an intense flame erupting within his heart. He approached his brother, whose head was still hung low, eyes focused on the floor. Herodotos placed a hand upon Telamon's shoulder, startling him in the process. Telamon raised his head, a confused and surprised expression on his face.

  Telamon was met with an intense gaze, one that reminded him of his father. "We are going to go west and investigate whatever it is that is pulling me in that direction. We are going to regroup and collect our strength, and once we have done that, we are going to return and make everyone pay for what they did to our father and blood parents." A chill ran down Telamon's spine as he witnessed the resolve buried deep within Herodotos' eyes.