Chapter 56 - Helios (Part 5)
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-2 and a half years later; In Helios' Study-
Helios sat in his study, surrounded by a sea of political documents. The room was quiet, save for the rustling of papers and the occasional sigh from the prince. Suddenly, a misty form materialized, swirling around the room with dramatic flair.
"Haaaaaaaaah.........it's so boring. Your life is soo booooooooring!" Xerxes exclaimed, his ethereal voice echoing off the walls.
Without looking up from his work, Helios quipped, "Damn, my life must be really interesting if you're this obsessed with it."
Xerxes responded with an exaggerated groan that seemed to stretch on forever.
*Knock Knock*
Just as the ghostly wail reached its crescendo, a sharp knock at the door cut through the noise.
"Come in," Helios called out, and Xerxes vanished into thin air.
The door opened to reveal Talon Brunte, the Emperor's advisor. His presence commanded attention, despite his subservient posture. "His Majesty, the Emperor commands your presence in his study," he announced with practiced formality.
Helios rose from his chair, his face a mask of calm indifference. "Understood," he replied, moving towards the door.
As he passed, Talon bowed low, a gesture of respect that seemed almost exaggerated. Helios paused for a moment, his eyes catching something unusual. With a hint of curiosity in his voice, he remarked, "Your hair.......really are turning black, huh?"
The comment hung in the air as Helios continued down the corridor, leaving Talon to straighten up and resume his stoic demeanor. The advisor's eyes followed the prince's retreating form, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face.
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-In the Emperor's Study-
The Emperor's study was a chamber of shadows and secrets, where the weight of history hung heavy in the air. Sunlight filtered through the long window, casting elongated shadows across the polished marble floor. The Emperor stood silently, his silhouette a dark monolith against the brilliant backdrop of the world beyond. His hands were clasped behind his back, fingers intertwined like the threads of fate that had spared him from death twelve years prior.
The room was thick with unspoken truths. The very walls seemed to whisper of the brutal attempted murder, a memory now erased from the minds of both the Emperor and Hades by Xerxes' arcane powers. In its place, a fabricated tale of the Empress's treachery had taken root, leading to her unjust execution.
Behind the Emperor loomed his study table, a massive slab of ancient oak that had borne witness to countless decisions that shaped the empire. Its surface was a landscape of parchments and sealed documents, each one a potential decree or death sentence. Further back, Hades stood at attention, his posture mirroring that of his father, a living echo of authority.
The door creaked open, admitting Helios into this tableau of power. "Your Imperial Majesty," he intoned formally, his voice cutting through the silence as he bowed deeply. The floorboards whispered beneath his feet as he moved to stand beside his brother, their identical faces a study in contrast – one open, one guarded.
The Emperor pivoted, his movement deliberate and measured, turning just enough to regard his sons with a single, piercing eye. The light caught the silver threads in his beard, a testament to the years that had etched themselves into his very being.
"I trust you are both cognizant of the imminent military engagement," the Emperor's voice rumbled, each word falling like a stone into a still pond.
"Indeed, Your Majesty," Hades responded with military precision.
Helios offered a measured nod of acknowledgment.
"It has been determined that one of you shall represent Domino's interests in this conflict," the Emperor declared.
A moment of tension crystallized in the room. Hades' composure fractured, while Helios remained outwardly impassive.
"Your Imperial Majesty," Hades implored, "I beseech you to consider sending Helios in my stead. My impending nuptials with Princess Roxana are of paramount significance."
Helios began to counter, "Imperial Father, if I may be so bold, my brother has already entered into matrimonial arrangements with five noble ladies-"
The Emperor's raised hand silenced both sons. He then declared with regal authority, "Helios, you shall depart for the war under Hades' name. You will serve for half a year, during which time we shall expeditiously solemnize Hades' wedding to Princess Roxana. Subsequently, Hades will assume your position in the conflict, thereby facilitating your return. Do you both find this proposition agreeable?"
"Your will shall be our command, Imperial Father," Hades proclaimed, his enthusiasm barely contained.
Helios stood momentarily transfixed, a fleeting vulnerability crossing his typically impassive features. Swiftly, he reconstructed his stoic demeanor, offering a nearly imperceptible bow of acquiescence.
As Helios withdrew from the chamber, his departure was a masterclass in controlled movement – each step a silent testament to his complex inner landscape.
The door closed with a soft, definitive click, leaving behind a room pregnant with the weight of imperial decisions and altered destinies.
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-Helios' Bedroom-
The heavy oak door creaked shut behind Helios as he entered his private sanctuary. With a swift motion, he engaged the lock, ensuring his solitude. Or so it would seem to any mortal observer.
"Xerxes," Helios called out, his voice a mixture of exhaustion and resignation.
The air shimmered, coalescing into a writhing mass of inky darkness. Xerxes' disembodied voice emanated from the void, tinged with irritation. "What?"
Helios moved towards his ornate four-poster bed, his shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. "Father has decreed that I am to join the war, masquerading as Hades."
The black mist swirled violently, Xerxes' shock palpable in the air. "Are you fucking kidding me? And you just rolled over and took it? What happened to all that talk of vengeance, huh?"
Helios reclined on the bed, his eyes closing as if to shut out the world. "Vengeance? That's a child's fantasy, Xerxes. I harbor no such delusions."
"Bullshit!" Xerxes spat, his form roiling with anger. "We had a deal, remember? All those nights spent purging the empire of its filth, razing those godforsaken auction houses and black markets to the ground. Was that all for nothing?"
Helios' eyes snapped open, a hint of steel entering his voice. "I never desired to be cast as either villain or hero, Xerxes. My actions... they were all to ensure a safer empire. For the child."
"Child? What fucking child?" Xerxes' form expanded, filling the room with his incredulous rage. "You mean to tell me you've been using me, making me complicit in your little cleaning crusade, all for some hypothetical brat?"
Helios sat up, his face a mask of calm belying the storm within. "Yes," he stated simply, his gaze unflinching. "My goal was singular - to eliminate the Empress and secure my future. Look around you, Xerxes. I've built an empire within an empire. Three international branches, countless properties, a sterling reputation. That's the vengeance I sought."
"Fuck me sideways," Xerxes growled, his form condensing into a tight, angry ball. "All this time, I've been itching to possess the body of a man who doesn't have the balls to embrace true power? You're pathetic, Helios. Just like that weak bitch who birthed you."
The temperature in the room seemed to plummet as Helios' eyes flashed dangerously. His voice, when he spoke, could have frozen flame. "You will not speak of my mother in such a manner, Xerxes. Ever."
"Ugh, whatever," Xerxes snarled, his form dissipating like smoke in the wind.
Left alone, Helios fell back onto the bed, his hands covering his face. A deep sigh escaped him, laden with the weight of secrets and unspoken truths.
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-Outside Roxana's Room, in the Corridor, Late afternoon-
The corridor outside Roxana's room buzzed with an eerie silence, broken only by the sudden crash of a door flying open. Lady Vespera, the most recent wife of Hades, stumbled out, her appearance a stark contrast to her usual regal demeanor.
"UGHH!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing off the stone walls. Her once-pristine hair now resembled a bird's nest, as if invisible claws had raked through it mercilessly. Her elegant dress hung in tatters, the bottom hem frayed and torn, while the bodice gaped open at the top. She cast a venomous glare back into the room before fleeing down the corridor, her footsteps fading into the distance.
At the far end of the hallway, Helios stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock. Curiosity overcame his initial hesitation, and he found himself drawn towards Roxana's room. As he approached, he noticed the door left ajar in Vespera's wake.
Peering inside, Helios saw Roxana standing near the window, one arm crossed over her chest while the other hand was raised, her eyes focused intently on her fingernails. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow across her features, highlighting the subtle curve of her lips.
*Knock Knock*
He knocked on the open door.
Helios rapped his knuckles against the open door, the sound seeming to startle Roxana from her reverie. She raised her eyes slowly, looking up at him from beneath long lashes.
"You are permitted to enter," Roxana said, her voice a low, melodious purr.
Helios slipped inside, his movements fluid yet cautious. He glanced back over his shoulder, ensuring they were alone before swiftly shutting the door with a soft click.
As he turned back to face Roxana, Helios noticed her gaze fixed on the letter in his hand. He extended his arm, holding the missive halfway between them, silently inviting her to close the distance.
Roxana glided forward, her movements graceful and deliberate. She plucked the letter from his fingers, her touch feather-light. With deft movements, she unfolded the parchment, her eyes scanning the contents:
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Roxana, do the echoes of your slaughtered kin not whisper vengeance in your veins?
The Azones demand your presence. Your weakness bleeds our power. Come to Ossa now, or I will ensure what remains of your fractured lineage becomes nothing more than a whispered curse. Your siblings' survival depends on your submission.
Arrive, or be erased.
Your Aunt
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"HMMM," Roxana murmured, her left hand lowering the letter to rest against her right elbow. Her right hand rose to her lips, fingertips brushing against them as she turned to face the fireplace perpendicular to her ornate bed.
Helios tilted his head, curiosity evident in his voice. "What's wrong?"
Roxana remained silent, her eyes transfixed by the dancing flames. The fire cast flickering shadows across her face, accentuating the sharp angles of her cheekbones.
"A child. Strong enough to bear that," she said suddenly, her left hand still clutching the letter as she pointed towards the roaring fire. "Can such a child be born?" Her tone was ominous, her face an impassive mask.
Helios turned to follow her gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. "You mean a child who can bear the Flames of the Dragon?"
A smirk played at the corners of Roxana's lips, her eyes never leaving the hypnotic dance of the flames. "Exactly."
"You don't mean what I think you mean, right?" Helios questioned, a frown deepening on his face as he too became mesmerized by the fire.
"I mean exactly what you think," she replied, turning back to face Helios with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Roxana's eyes narrowed as she studied Helios, her fingers tracing the edges of the letter. "You once told me you'd do anything for me," she said, her voice low and measured. "Did you mean it?"
Helios stiffened, his red eyes flickering with an unreadable emotion. "Roxana, you know I—"
"Because I need you now," she interrupted, taking a step closer. "Not for some frivolous wish or fleeting desire. This is about survival."
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "What exactly are you asking of me?"
Roxana held up the letter, her knuckles white against the parchment. "Ossa. On the western coast of Kior. We need to go there, and we need to go now."
"Ossa?" Helios's brow furrowed. "That's an abandoned land. Not to mention, all the cursed stories which revolve around this region, Roxana. You can't seriously be considering—"
"I'm not considering anything," she snapped. "I'm going. With or without you."
A tense silence fell between them. Helios paced the room, his movements agitated. "This is madness. You're walking into a trap."
Roxana's laugh was bitter. "Perhaps. But it's a trap I can't avoid. My family, Helios. My siblings. Their lives hang in the balance."
He stopped, turning to face her. His expression softened slightly. "And what of your life? Does that not matter?"
"Of course it does," she whispered. "That's why I'm asking you to come with me."
Helios closed his eyes, conflict evident on his face. When he opened them again, there was a resigned determination in his gaze. "Very well. But we do this my way. No unnecessary risks."
Relief flooded Roxana's features. She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," Helios muttered. He raised his hands, black mist beginning to swirl around them. "This won't be pleasant."
The air crackled with energy. Roxana felt a pulling sensation in her gut, the world blurring around her. When everything came back into focus, they were standing in a dark, misty forest. The scent of salt and decay hung heavy in the air.
Black cloaks materialized around them, offering protection against the chill and concealing their identities. Roxana pulled her hood low, scanning their surroundings.
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"Welcome to Ossa," Roxana announced with a theatrical flourish, spinning on her heel and spreading her arms wide. Her voice carried an odd mix of excitement and caution, lilting with a sing-song quality. "Isn't it delightfully dreary?"
Helios tensed beside her, his muscles coiling like springs. His eyes, sharp and alert, scanned the misty, seemingly deserted landscape. He shifted his weight, ready to move at a moment's notice. "It's..." he paused, his voice low and gravelly, "...exactly as abandoned as I thought."
"Oh, don't be so quick to judge," Roxana chided playfully, her lips curving into an impish grin. She pirouetted gracefully, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. With a delicate finger, she tapped his nose. "The best hosts are the ones you can't see."
Helios's hand instinctively moved to a concealed weapon, his fingers curling around the hilt. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing. "Roxana, what aren't you telling me?" His tone was taut with suspicion.
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To be Continued...