Sea salt and pomegranates

Nine

"Prince Nektarios?" Someone called out. The prince, who had grown into a handsome young man, looked up. His hair was down to his back, still light brown with golden streaks, and his eyes were still a magnificent blue and green. He propped his head against one of the many pillows that decorated the lush bed that he sat on, smiling gently at the girl who called his name. It was Phoebe, the prophet of Apollo. The two met once, and eventually Phoebe had begun to consider him a friend. Nektarios was unsure if he was able to talk to her about Fotis, however. Nektarios still wrote letters to Fotis, even though Fotis never responded. He never assumed the worst, always assuming he was just too busy or nervous to reply.
    "Yes, Phoebe?" Nektarios looked up at her again, drinking a cup of wine, the taste sweet and fresh on his tongue. The prophet sat down beside him, her hair like a beautiful, glowing fire.
    "I have a new prophecy." She whispered softly. "It is about...you and your old friend."
Friend.
He did not dare correct her.
Old lover, that was what they were.
Now they were nothing, a forgotten piece of history.
    "What does it say?" Nektarios wondered out loud, throwing his body down on the bed, stretching his muscular limbs,
    "It says that…the old killer now ceases to exist, and that he will come back."
To you.
    Nektarios's stomach tightened. "He will?"
    Phoebe nodded. "Yes, it says you two are connected. Your fates entwine." She yawned, before grinning. "However, it says that there will be a conflict that occurs after he goes back to you." Her whisper was soft and gentle.
    Nektarios took a shaky breath, and nodded."When do you think he will arrive?" Nektarios looked at her nervously. He wanted to be prepared.
    "Most likely in a week or so." Phoebe answered calmly.
    "Fine, then. We shall prepare." Nektarios announced to her. "I do miss him." He mumbled under his breath, his heart rapidly beating. He missed Fotis more than he should have.