Page 55 of Fate

“No band with you this time, hmm? Seems like change has found us all this past year.” I nod, bittersweet and wistful. Helia doesn’t say anything either, and Artes picks up the hint. “I see. Well, you don’t need to talk about it. Maybe you’ll set down roots here after all.” She flashes me a brief smile before frowning slightly, her brow pinching. “But, let me catch you up on the new shape of Ionos. Many months ago now, Archon Gaius left the city and took a portion of the military with him. It was sudden and against the will of the commanders and city senate.” At this Helia and I share a look, wondering if we need to be worried about the vestiges of Keppilo within the city. Artes catches on, though having no insight as to the depth of what happened.

“Who’s in charge now in Gaius’s absence?” Helia unconsciously drops a hand on the hilt of her blade, meadow eyes hardening. Artes takes the slightest step back, not expecting the shift.

“Ottis. Commander Ottis is now the new Archon. Right after Gaius left, Ottis was able to uncover a slew of embezzlement, fraud, and black-market dealings that Gaius had been orchestrating. Actually, your Speaker helped too. There were many connections that were rooted in the temple to Keppilo. The senate held a special council, elected Ottis, and he immediately set torch to it all.”

Helia visibly relaxes, though she keeps her hand at the ready. If Ottis had cleared out most if not all of the remaining supporters of Gaius and Keppilo, perhaps we would be safe here. Long enough for our needs anyway.

“Commander, can we meet with the Archon? We have a business proposition for him.” This was not the plan Helia and I had created on our travel. Rebuilding Athos was going to take a lot of time, and money. But if I could convince Ottis to help…

“Of course, Skion. Ottis would be happy to see old friends.” I can’t suppress the wince. I’ve spent what feels like a lifetime away from that name. Helia moves her hand from the hilt of her sword to my shoulder and squeezes in comfort.

“It’s Itho now.” Artes tilts her head looking at me, truly taking in what she can see with my body hidden beneath the cloak. She must see something though as she nods in seeming understanding, a kind smile growing on fertile ground.

“Itho.” Artes rolls the letters on her tongue, as if testing out the feel of it. “I like it. I think it suits the new you.” Artes throws a coy smile to me, before rubbing her hands for some final warmth. Helia stifles a cough as my cheeks warm. “All right then! Let’s get going before too late. I’m sure you want to be done with your business with enough time to find an inn before dusk hits the city.” She gets several steps ahead before we follow. Helia leans low, pitching her voice down to avoid being overheard.

“Should I be jealous?” Helia keeps a straight face, but the humorous lilt on her words gives the lie. I nudge her ribs hard, smile brightening my face. A chuckle ripples through her shoulders as Helia hefts her pack to cover.

It takes little time before our newly minted commander brings us before the familiar manor of the Archon. Except this time, as we step into the courtyard, the majestic olive tree no longer has veins of gold running throughout its trunk. Empty rivers of bark are in their wake.

“It all melted about two or three months ago.” Ottis’s gruff and seasoned voice carves a path around the tree. Helia and I exchange a look; that’s right about when she killed Gaius. Ottis stands on the small steps into the villa foyer, a calming air replacing the charged cunning atmosphere from before. Gone are his bronze chest plate and spear; Archon laurel and robes of office instead adorn him, the trappings of a budding politician. Yet, Ottis grips our forearms in greeting, veteran soldier surviving beneath it all.

“Welcome back to Ionos friends! I wondered if we would see you again. A lot has changed since you left us last.”

“Indeed it has Archon.” Ottis scoffs at the title I level his way.

“Archon is too stifling. Damned politics. Come in! I’ll send for some food and wine.” Helia and I follow into the familiar receiving room where we once stood before Gaius, our unknown enemy at the time.

The three of us recline on the plush cushions arranged around the floor. Artes stands at the door, ever the dutiful guard; ever the watchful eye. Servants appear from the shadows, bearing wine skins, cups, and a few wooden platters of figs, olives, and nuts. We all take a sip, the wine sparking memories of the last time I was here. Helia shoots me a wink over the edge of the cup, a knowing smile on her lips.

“So! What can I do for you two?”

Helia nods for me to start.

“Before I say anything, I want to make it clear, we did not know what to expect coming back to Ionos and we had a different plan in mind than approaching you, the Archon.” Ottis raises an eyebrow, intrigue bright as the sun on his face. With a stolen glance at Helia bolstering my courage, I lay out my plan to rebuild Athos into a destination city. A place where all are welcome, where art and relaxation thrive hand in hand. An oasis where pure survival is no longer the expectation of life, no matter your fate. A place that can only be reached by traveling through Ionos; something that Ottis immediately catches onto.

“Rebuilding a city is no cheap venture. Nor is recouping what Gaius stripped our city of. An investment of this size will be hard to convince the senate to support, but the potential upside is alluring.” Ottis tilts his head to the side, curiosity blooming. “What was your plan if it was not originally coming to me, asking for investment?”

Helia grabs one of her three packs and throws it open in front of Ottis. Glittering gold coins spill out, a river of years of a commander’s wages.

“I see. That would help convincing the others and providing an initial startup fund.” Ottis smiles at us both, kind; fatherly. “I also have a feeling that you will have some willing volunteers to help. I will send for the Speaker shortly. For now, let’s talk more about what you envision this ‘destination city’ being.”

EPILOGUE

SUN BREAKS THROUGH the taverna entryway as the linen curtains are pulled open. Small flecks of dust catch in the light, dancing to an unknown tune. I recognize the hand guiding aside the cloth, well-tanned with tiny scars crossing over each other. I recognize the smile, small and mischievous. A secret smile; quiet as a morning to everyone else, louder than a roaring river for us.

My eyes wander above her, dull metal glinting in the reflected light. Dust gathers along the length of a legendary blade and the broken head of a spear. Relics, now of a time past when the gods learned to die. I look back down to Archon Helia Athos, to that symphony behind the forest pines of her eyes, the slight curl of her mouth. Not quite where we thought we’d be those years ago, nor a fate that others intended. But here is where we’re supposed to be.

Here, is home.