Phobia ☤ Alexios

thirteen: ashes to ashes

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ON A BLOODY altar at Apollo's feet is a dead eagle. A clear warning from Hera's corrupt priestess, but far from enough to dissuade the Eagle Bearer from his cause. "We must be getting close," Alexios announces.

An infant's cry pierces the silence and Irene immediately sets off. The cries emanate from a temple not far from the forest altar. Not thinking about the possibility of a trap, she moves forward. Alexios catches a glint of dark steel in the dying light of the sun and grips onto Irene's waist and pulling her behind a tree. "Cultist guards," he whispers. Then he is gone -moving through the underbrush toward the temple with sword and spear in hand.

He moves like Achilles. Distracted, the princess doesn't notice the brute until he is upon her. She twists out of the way and out of his spear's reach, then retaliates with a flurry of slashes. Yet is unable to move quickly enough to avoid being struck by the point of his kopis. A quick burst of white-hot pain erupts in Irene's thigh. She ducks beneath the man's arm and thrusts the broken spear through his neck, twisting the hilt until he falls to his knees -limp.

The cries of the baby grow louder. Alexios eyes' dart between the final vanguard, the temple, and Irene. She sees his hesitation and motions toward the temple. "I can handle this!" Irene tells him and the Eagle Bearer nods, darting toward the temple doors.

The princess looks up at the Cultist guard. He's at least two heads taller with dark steel armor and a heavy shield. His face hidden behind a helmet and fearsome mask molded in the visage of a bearded man. The vanguard laughs as he tosses aside his shield thinking it will be an easy fight. "I'll crush your pretty skull!" He goads, taking a lumbering stride –swinging a battleax in a wide arc.

Irene steps back then dashes forward, sliding between his legs and popping up behind him. She drops her sword and thrusts the broken spear up into the unprotected skin beneath his arm with both hands until the point pushes through flesh and cloth, rising out of his shoulder. He howls, arm falling lame and stumbles on his feet. The princess is unable to pull the spear free before he turns. She recollects her sword with a cruel smile. It's been weeks since she felt the thrill of battle rush through her veins.

The guard drops the battleax and struggles to free his sword. She dodges the first sloppy swing and ducks underneath the next, nimble as a nymph. "Stay still so I can kill you!" The brute growls. Irene stops in front of the guard, her blade lowered. When the guard lifts his arm to strike, she lunges forward -ripping the spear from under his arm in a violent spray of blood and plunges her sword into the gap between his armor and mask.

Pulling the blade back, Irene watches blood sluice down the dark steel arm. The guard claws at his open neck for only a second then falls back to the ground, unmoving. Sheathing both sword and spear, she's caught off-guard by the smell of smoke and hollow silence.

Smoke and flames spill out from the temple when she opens the doors. "Alexios?" There's a shadowy figure moving through the smoke. He exits the flames carrying the crying babe and gingerly places it in Irene's arms, his sight entirely focused in the direction Chrysis had escaped to.

"Stay here," he utters and she nods looking down at the baby in her arms. Alexios disappears into the shadows. As Irene begins to rock the babe, its cries quiet down then stop completely when she begins humming softly.

"My son!" A woman exclaims. The princess looks over the woman and passes the child to her, unsure if it is the right decision. "Where is Chrysis?" The woman asks, glancing around hoping to see the priestess who promised to cure her son.

Irene frowns. "She lit the temple on fire with your son inside!" And Alexios.

"Chrysis is a priestess of Hera!" The woman shrieks, clutching the babe to her breast. He had begun crying again at the raised voices. "She does what needs to be done!"