Chapter 35

I n the weeks it took to prepare our sixty-thousand men for the impending war, Aryx grew more and more distant. Our meetings with Procyon's generals, Xenophron and Balakros, were succinct and uncomfortable. He'd taken a bedchamber down the hall from me, avoiding my gaze as we passed each other in the narrow hall.

When we sat for dinner, the table stacked with platters of roasted fish and an endless array of fruits and nuts, he would make his plate and retire upstairs for the evening. With each accidental brush of our hands and silent stares, my guilt over Procyon's bargain strengthened until it stole both my thoughts and my dreams.

On our last week of preparation, Altair waved his hand toward the horizon, pulling from the depths a fleet of two hundred warships. The harbors grew restless and overcrowded with sailors and soldiers, itching for the vast open horizons of the sea.

I needed some time away from the bustle of soldiers, with their boisterous laughter and crude jokes. It was a world I had little experience in, and with Aryx's growing heartache, I was certainly not welcome in it. Taking a walk down the empty city streets, far from the harbor, I searched for city folk who'd survived the massacre. Every day, I'd look down back alleys and shadowy underpasses. Every day, I'd find nothing. Once the bodies were buried and the blood scrubbed away, it was as if the city itself had been empty forever.

On a harsh, sunny morning, I took my usual walk. Rah soared above the silent streets, his wings glinting in the sunlight. We passed the Temple of Altair, crossed the city's empty market, and made our way up the sloped street. Finally, at the top of the hill, it was quiet. Not even a murmur of the encampment on the beach whispered through the warm breeze. I stopped to draw in a breath. Up here, where no one was listening, I let myself crack. I felt everything. All of it, once bottled up, now rushed out of me in overwhelming fury.

I wasn't a good person. I never claimed to be, but my bargain with Procyon was lower than I'd ever been before. I'd given up someone else's choice, someone else's future, for my own. What did that make me? There were more similarities between Tethys and me than differences these days. What made me the hero, and she the villain?

Good and evil aren't black and white. There's a spectrum of grey morality that intertwines the moral and immoral. Heroes make selfish sacrifices. They take lives; they cause destruction just as the villain does. In war, bloody, gruesome, deadly war, there is no good side or bad. There are just two with opposing goals. To Tethys, I was the villain, and maybe she was right.

I'd lied, manipulated, and broken a man who cared so deeply for me he'd risk his life if necessary to keep me safe. Yet, he lied, manipulated, and broke me. He had taken advantage of the pain I'd endured, using it for his own vices. There was a time I hated him for it, despised even the sight of his perfect face.

Now the only face I despised was my own. We all made decisions, and we had to live with the everlasting impact of them. Aryx would haunt me forever. When this was all over, would I truly be at peace? Would I truly be able to live my life in carefree freedom? I wasn't so sure anymore.

This war had changed me, and maybe not for the better.

I sobbed, choking on the realization now burning in the back of my throat. Maybe I deserved to be in that tower. I may not have committed the accused crimes, but I caused plenty of pain and destruction. I was a monster through and through. No one was safe in my path.

"Elpis?"

Wiping the sadness from my eyes, I turned to face Lytos seated atop a bleached white horse. His broad chest was bare aside from the silver claymore sheathed across his back. Glistening beads of sweat trailed down his temples.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, keeping my gaze low to hide the swell of my reddened cheeks and nose- evidence of my weakness.

"I came to fight. Margerie threw a fit when I told her, but eventually she understood. I can't just sit by and wait for Aryx to return home." He dropped from his saddle, soothing his horse with long, gentle strokes across its snout.

"Well, Aryx will be pleased to see you, but I can't say he'll be happy you're here to join our army."

"I figured as much." He chuckled, but his eyes burned with a strong will. Nothing would convince this man to return to home. By his firm stance, I knew he'd made up his mind.

"You must be tired from the ride," I said. "I'll walk with you to the palace."

Guiding his horse by the reins, we started back down the hill, leaving the small spatters of tear marks to evaporate on the stone in the blazing afternoon sun.

"So, how are things going? It seemed tense when you left the city," Lytos asked, smoothing his short brown hair back.

"Things are… okay." I trailed off, scuffing my boot against the gravel.

"So things are terrible," Lytos snorted. "What did my brother do now?"

I opened my mouth to speak, unsure of what to say. He wasn't the root cause. I was.

"What did you do?" Lytos raised a brow.

"We just… weren't on the same page, I guess," I murmured, lowering my eyes to the ground.

"I see."

We walked in silence down the hill, the clop of his horse's hooves loud in the thick summer heat.

"You know, Elpis, I've known Aryx for a long time, since we were practically boys. He holds so much guilt, so much pain. It's like a shadow just looming over him all the time. When you two came to the stable, he seemed…lighter, more himself." Lytos stopped, halting his horse behind him.

Taking my hand, he placed his palm over mine. "It's because of you. He's different when you're around."

Pulling away, trying to hide the tears now welling in my lower lids, I started for the palace. Taking the hint, Lytos followed my trail. The salt of the air stung at the raw skin beneath my eyes.

I couldn't breathe.

It was easy to push Aryx away when he was simply the man who'd lied, but now he was the man who was lighter because of me.

A few days from now, we'd be loading our ships and starting the last stretch of our journey. We couldn't be divided. There were men relying on the strength of their leaders, and right now, I was as fragile as glass. At any moment I was on the brink of shattering, on the losing side of the battle against my demons.

I hated every fiber of my being, every strand of black hair that fell from my head. A part of me, buried beneath muscle tissue and bone, hoped that I'd die on the battlefield. At least that way, I'd spare those around me from my destruction.

Reaching the palace, Lytos said a quick farewell with a light kiss on my cheek. Concern clouded his eyes, scanning my puffy pink face for any glimmer of an explanation. I forced a smile, although soft and sad, and directed him where to find his old friend.

As soon as I clicked my bedchamber's lock, I collapsed. The walls caved in, pushing on my chest until I took up as little space as I could. I didn't want to feel anymore, didn't want to be anymore. I'm not sure how long I stayed glued to the floor, but when I finally gained the strength to climb into bed, ignoring my empty stomach, a wolf outside howled, a pleading cry for the moon .