A young Spero and Cyrus, find themselves comfortably perched at the grand dinner table in the royal hall. King Cambyses sat at one end while Queen Mandane occupied the opposite. Cyrus, a spark of enthusiasm in his eyes, began recounting the day's escapades with a sense of animated fervor, regaling his parents with tales of their little adventure around the kingdom.
“Spero was able to climb up one of the watch towers and he also taught me this move on how to throw people twice my size.”
Cyrus proclaimed with youthful zeal, his words dancing with the thrill of their exploits.
“That's wonderful my boy. If Spero keeps teaching you skills you can be my next general in a year’s time, the King declared with a hearty chuckle, brimming with paternal pride.
However, the Queen, ever perceptive with a keen eye for nuance, cast a glance of concern towards her husband, silently conveying her apprehensions. Sensing this, King Cambyses swiftly donned a mask of composure, his expression shifting seamlessly to a more neutral facade.
“You boys aren’t getting into any trouble, are you?”, inquired Queen Mandane, her voice a gentle yet firm undercurrent of maternal worry.
“Of course, not, mother. We would never do anything like that.” Cyrus reassured her with a confident grin. Spero returned a slight smile that he quickly disguised.
The dinner comes to an end, and Cyrus retreats to his chamber. Unable to find rest, Spero wanders the corridors of the grand palace. Somewhere in the distance, he catches whispers drifting through the air. Intrigued, he follows the faint sound down the hall, leading him to the voices of the King and Queen.
“I’m not sure having Cyrus around that boy is a good idea.”, Mandane, the queen, voices her concerns.
The king dismisses her worries with a calm demeanor, “They're just children, they might get into trouble from time to time.”
Mandane shakes her head, “No, that's not what troubles me. It's been two weeks, and we nothing about him. His past, where he comes from, his family?”
“He must have had a tough childhood, but his past shouldn’t matter.”
“Yes, you’re right. I'm grateful that he saved our boy's life, but…that aura he gives off…I just don't want us to lose Cyrus again.”
Embracing his beloved queen, the king responds, “I know my love, I will make sure this doesn’t happen.”
Meanwhile, hidden in the shadows, Spero listens intently. A frown tugs at his features but disappears as quickly as it appears. With a heavy heart, he retreats to his chambers.
A week passed by, Spero found himself summoned into the grand chambers of the King. As he stood before the throne, the King's voice filled the room with authority.
“How have you enjoyed your stay here in Anshan?”
"It has been pleasant.”
“And do you plan to return to your family or travel elsewhere?”
"No, Your Majesty, I have no such plans.”
The King noticed a flicker of melancholy in Spero's eyes.
"You are welcome to stay here for as long as you desire," declared the King.
Surprised by the King's generosity, Spero's eyes widened in gratitude as he bowed his head in respect.
"However," continued the King, his voice taking on a more solemn tone, "I have a favor to ask of you. You may remain in Anshan, but in return, I ask that you watch over my son, Cyrus."
Spero's brow furrowed in confusion, unsure of what to make of the King's request.
"You once saved my son's life, and a bond has formed between you two that even I can see," the King explained, "My Queen and I have suffered the loss of our boy once, heartbroken that she wished to bear no more children. Cyrus is alone in this vast kingdom, he had to leave his other parents and his friends to return home to us.”
Spero gazes down at the King, a glint of understanding in his eyes. With a steady nod, he acknowledges the weight of the royal decree,
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
"You, Spero, shall serve as Cyrus's devoted protector, his shield in times of turmoil. But more than that, you shall be regarded as his brother, a trusted member of this royal family. Moreover, it falls upon you to hone Cyrus's combat skills. Can you do this for me?"
Spero lets a silence linger in the air as he contemplates the King's words. Glimpses of his past life flicker before his eyes - his childhood nestled in the mountain's embrace; memories of his father etched in his mind. Yet, the heart-wrenching sight of his homeland ravaged and destroyed, a stark reminder of his irreversible loss, tugs at his resolve. In that poignant moment, gazing steadfastly at the ruler before him, Spero's determination kindles like a flame in the darkness, and with unwavering resolve, he pledges his allegiance to the royal cause.
Spero settled into his new home with growing ease as time marched forward. The King's support was unwavering, granting him freedom with a single condition: uphold his duty. Cyrus, a newfound brother figure, filled the void left by the family he once knew. However, it was the Queen who captured his attention like a riddle waiting to be solved. Her eyes pierced into him akin to Anahita's. It bore through his facade, searching for secrets buried within his soul. Each encounter with her unveiled a shield of protection she silently cast over him, leaving him to ponder her cryptic words and seeming indifference to his presence.
Young Spero found himself grappling with his inner turmoil. Amidst these challenging times, a shimmering figure known as Astral emerged sporadically to check on his well-being. Astral, appearing in a youthful and ethereal form.
“How’s your new home?”
“It’s comfortable, I can train as much as I want. I’m not tied down by any curfews or many rules.”
“I’m glad, but how are you actually doing?”
Astral's gaze deepened, a touch of concern shadowing his features. Pausing to gather his thoughts,
Spero murmured, “I’m fine…I have a new family, so that helps…. Have you figured out who was responsible?”
A flicker of frustration danced in Astral's eyes as he replied, “No…you know you can’t keep obsessing over this.”
“Why not? That deity had no right to interfere.”
Drawing closer to Spero, Astral explained, “Celestial beings aren’t bound by the same rules as Celestial or Cosmic Entities….”
Spero interjected with a fiery resolve, “They should be, they can pick and choose when they decide to do something. They only benefit themselves.”
Spero's anger simmered beneath the surface, a dark energy swirling around him ominously.
Astral, always the voice of reason, intervened, "Control yourself,"
Astral admonished gently. Spero grudgingly nodded, his frustration evident in his expression yet an understanding glimmer in his eyes.
"See you soon, friend,"
Astral bid farewell as he vanished into thin air, reappearing in the Divine Realm in his usual older form.
"He's asking about it again," Astral informed his mother Evaline, the Spirit of Life.
"He's far too young and weak to seek a deity," Evaline responded, her voice laced with concern.
"It would also be foolish," Azrael, the Angel of Death, interjected.
"The deity has already faced punishment; that cursed child should forget about it," Azrael added firmly.
"I'm sure he is still reeling from the loss of his father, but time will heal his wounds," Evaline reassured a sense of compassion in her tone.
With their respective thoughts lingering in the air, the family dispersed, each going their separate ways in the vast expanse of the Divine Realm.
Years later, after many adventures through tombs and valleys in search of artifacts and clues about the gods, Spero found himself face-to-face with a mysterious visitor. Emerged from the shadows before him was Azrael,
"Hello, demon," Azrael's voice echoed, sending a shiver down Spero's spine.
It was the first time he felt the overwhelming presence of fear itself and powerlessness.
"The longer you search, the more perilous it will become for you," Azrael warned.
Spero, though trembling with fear, managed to find his voice, "Wh…what do you mean? How do you know this?"
"You will never locate the deity you seek. And even if you were to stumble upon him, your fate would be sealed... and I would be there to claim your soul," Azrael intoned.
Spero's voice crescendoed, "You know who it is? Tell me!"
Azrael sighed, "My son was correct. This does become tiresome."
Spero was caught off guard, "Wait... your son?"
"Yes, Astral is my son, why else would an Entity as mighty as him align himself with a mere mortal like you?"
In the heat of the moment, Spero's rage ignited a storm of dark energy that crackled and seethed around him like an inferno.
A primal fury consumed him as he confronted the deity, “You damn deities are all the same!”
Azrael, taken aback by the raw power emanating from Spero, felt a tremor of recognition deep within him. Memories of battles fought during the legendary demon and angel war flickered in his mind before he decided to withdraw from the volatile scene, he warns Spero,
“Beware of what you speak, it could be your last breath.”
Spero left alone in his wrath, dashed away and called upon Astral, who materialized before him in a shimmer of cosmic light.
"Hey, what's happening?"
“What the hell?! Your parents sent you to spy on me?!
Astral struggled to find the right words to explain, eventually managing to stammer out,
"Yes...and no... I had to ensure that your powers remain in check."
“Why are you and every damn god so obsessed with me, my abilities, huh?! Why does no one tell me anything? Nothing but lies and hiding the truth!”
Astral held back the truth, his eyes reflecting a hidden secret. Spero, with a mix of frustration and betrayal, meets Astral's gaze with disappointment. Their tense exchange hung heavy in the air.
"I'm sorry…", Astral finally broke the silence, "...but I can't tell you right now."
Spero glared at Astral with disappointment, Spero's glare intensified, and a sense of hurt crept into his words,
“I thought we were friends…”
“We are!”
Spero's walls went up and their trust shattered.
"No, we aren't! Go back to your parents and tell them and every deity you know, they can screw themselves."
With those cutting words, Spero turned away, leaving Astral standing there, sadness and remorse etched on his face. The weight of their unspoken bond lingered in the air.