ii. Along the Path of Redemption
Cursed child!
I should have killed you the moment you came from your mothers womb!
The gods have given us a curse. There is nothing to gain from him.
He deserves to die!
How can you say that about your own son?
His eyes. Those eyes are cursed! He will bring bad omens to us. We have to give him to the jackals. Its the only way to please the gods.
The sun was high within the cloudless sky. Striking beauty of its light blue hue that made the heavens seem visible to the human eye. The smell of the fields rolling through the air had brought about another bloody battle. There was heavy tension that everyone could feel. Going about their daily lives knowing that war could stretch across the lands to their peaceful existence. Destroying everything that they knew. Their gods watching from above and doing nothing to stop the bloodshed.
The drums of war were growing closer. Each day the beat would be heard just over the hills. The horizon would be painted red with the blood of soldiers.
Kamir had been in deep thought as life had continued on, knowing war would settle close to home. The days were growing longer. The nights too short. The sun would rise everyday to a new sacrifice. War was all man knew and who was to blame?
"When the land was created, the gods were not even born. Did you know the stars and the planets were born first before the gods?" He said. "Before there was land, there was the sea. Before the sea, there was nothing. No plants. No trees. No birds. No fish. No mountains or light. What was before all this wonder? You know what they told me before they cast me an outsider? My own blood could not even fathom my knowledge. They told me that darkness came first before everything. Then they threw me to the desert to be eaten by jackals."
He gently rubbed the feathered breast of the raven as it sat perched on his knee. Where the traveler's roamed the land of uncertainty; he sat on a strong branch where the breeze caressed his exposed skin. Sweat had rolled from his brow and thirst was soon to devour him for some fresh water. Where only leisure of the hardworking had come in the form of something favored. The shade of the trees around him had made Kamir a shadow to the land. A man dressed in dark robes stalking the shadows with eyes of something not human.
Known only to the masked people of the cult, Kamir had become something of a legend among the Greeks. Only spoken by mothers to guard their children from the outside world as a monster who stalks in the night. Where men disappeared in the dark. They said he was created by one of the gods- no one was sure on who created him. A shadow that hides in a crowd, only to fade when one thinks they have spotted him. Kamir was feared by the people who have encountered him. Soldiers of both sides had put a bounty on his head and when some lucky fool would fight him, Kamir would easily kill.
Blood of a mortal was pure and favored. The blood of a soldier decedent in a sacrifice for their strength and loyalty to their country and fellow man.
"When darkness consumed all, light shined through. Creation was being formed from ash. The stars. The planets. The sea rose and fell, giving way to land. Everything was falling into place you see, my old friend. Men was created last. You know why?"
Kamir looked away from the raven for a moment. Sensing he was being watched by familiar eyes. Always being watched. His movement was always tracked, even within the shadows. They did not trust him. Did they fear him? Kamir was but a simple man without power. No throne. Nothing to his name. Why fear a man that was skilled in his profession? The cult even went as far as having her come and find him. Irritation had swelled within his chest.
"Because men had the promise of knowledge." He finished. Could he go a day without having his peace interrupted by them? Bad enough he could only tolerate the woman who was staring up at him. Arms crossed over her chest and eyes burning holes into him.
The raven cocked her head to the side at her master's sudden action. Her good eye watching with interest. Since the return of his beloved raven, she had a battle wound. One eye had been gauged out by another bird much bigger than she. He could see the marks upon her head with some of the under feathers missing. Poor raven had suffered from the talons of another.
"It must be challenging to only have use of just one eye, my friend." He said tenderly as he continued to show affection to the dark colored bird. So soft were her feathers against his finger. "What bird could have caused you much pain?"
The eagle.
His eyes looked out to the vast horizon where just before the sea, a Spartan stronghold stands. He had been watching the stronghold for many days from afar. Nothing but bloodshed and battle to keep away the soldiers of Athens. Kamir cared not for their petty wars. Men died all the same over control of a land that wasn't truly free. It was pointless to have to see two sides shed blood to feed the land of flesh of the men whom left their homes all for the sake of glory. Names would never be remembered or their glory; few ever make history.
Since his rendezvous with the woman he was sent to track, Kamir had been called upon different requests. Compared to retrieving the woman's blood, the days of simple tasks had been boring. Nothing too lively other than receiving payment; and a large payment he received for the woman's blood.
"Ignoring me will not make me leave." She said. Her tone authoritative as if she were a commander to an army. In a way, the cult made her believe she was in control of everything. Putting such thoughts into the woman makes her arrogant and rather annoying.
Oh gods.
"What honor shall I have the great Demios come to me personally?" He looked down from his perch to see the ever-tall Amazonian-like woman looking up to him with an irritated expression. This only made Kamir grin like a fox underneath the scarf that covered most of his face. Those grey eyes finding amusement in the so-called Demios face. He lived to defy the woman and those who work in the shadows.
"Did they not have someone of low rank come to find me? Must have lost them back in the crowds of the markets. Ah, but who could keep with my pace? Do they not trust me when they send me out to be look out? I must have a word with the leader." Kamir openly laughed with a mocking tone to his voice.
"Your tongue becomes bolder with every meet. Maybe I shall cut it out before you speak to me like that again." She warned. "Why they tolerate your tone is but a mystery to me. Even when you talk to me in such a way should be a warning before I lose all control and sense with you. Kamir of the sand, they call you. I laugh at your subtle ways when I can easily kill you."
"Should I be scared of the great Deimos?" He countered. The raven upon his knee stretched her wings and flew off. Cawing loudly to her master's coy ways.
"A man who cannot openly speak without his tongue is better trained. He would roll over like a dog and expose his belly to his master. Submission should be whipped into you." Her eyes became dark with a sneer upon her face. Those expressions and movements reminded Kamir of someone. A much deeper hatred bubbled within as he could see the sheer resemblance.
"Even dogs know when to behave. You are much lower in status then dogs. Born of a people who did not want you. Have I said much more than what is needed, or should I dig deeper into your locked wounds you wretched whelp?" Kamir sneered at the woman. Standing so elegant with her tall stature and arms against her side. It was clear to see that the woman was very much cared for.
If only she knew. The bitch.
Kamir jumped off the branch he was lazily relaxing on. Of all those who have grown to irritate his skin, this woman had to be the worst of all the bugs that crawled. So high and mighty was this woman who wanted all to obey like perfect soldiers on the frontlines of war. It was not a secret to know she was of Spartan descent and her bloodline was the reason for occurring events. Kamir wasn't this perfect toy soldier where one could easily replace when they would be knocked over.
"Should I also hide in the shadows and listen to every whim you ask? I am better suited for the free world to accomplish such simple task. If it was not for me, your cult members would not have the blood of the woman they have been praying for. Such a pity to have to cut her skin, really." He huffed out in a nonchalant tone that angered the woman. He could get under her skin so easily. Why should she hold back from killing him?
"The woman is none of my concern when it comes to my affairs. Do not speak so openly about her as if she is of importance to someone like you." Her deadly eyes had a predatory stare. Eyeing him and waiting to strike when he least expected it. Those eyes of a wolf against a raven that could peck out her eyes. He knew her birth name, but would not speak of it. That name given was a reminder of a past she would rather not talk about. The gods had pity on her and yet, the cult found her fascinating.
She was just too blind to see how they are using her.
"Oh yes. How could I forget your importance to the world around us? To have the people bow to your will in obedience like dogs. The woman has much to do with your affairs and it would be interesting to see how she fairs against you. The mighty warrior chosen by the gods." He mocked.
"Should I cut off your head for your disobedience?" She was close to pulling her sword to Kamir's throat. Deimos was known for her quick temper. Those who were brave enough to stand firm against the favored woman never lived long. Kamir always pressed his luck with her out of resentment. In his eyes, the woman held too much power within the cult. No one could speak out against her or else they would meet her blade.
I break the mold.
"Should I be intimidated all because the great Deimos felt offended by my tongue? Maybe you should go bother another and leave me to my lonesome self. My mission has yet to start as you can see, just beyond the waters where the ship rocks against the current. The battle still rages and blood is in the water." Kamir said. The woman always knew how to ruin the fun of everything. Life should be treated freely instead of barking orders to wolves on the hunt.
"We all have a part to play, Deimos. You should keep to the script before you spoil the ending. We do not want to have the main players know too much. But here I am, knowing more then you. I wonder who the gods favor more. You or the woman whose blood the cult wanted." Deimos clenched her fist. She was ready to strike at Kamir, but the man was fast and moved to the side. A giant leap to keep distance.
"Your usefulness will come to an end and where would you go?" She was pissed. Perfect.
Kamir grinned. He turned his back to the woman who waited for an answer. Something witty or with a bit of punch in his words, but Kamir said nothing to her. She did not deserve the answer for he already knew how he was going to die. Not by her hand or any other but one that impaled him with the tip of a spear.
"Where will you go, Kamir when the land runs dry? When the gods forsake you and you are left in that land waiting to be eaten by scavengers?" She was trying to get an answer. Nobody turns their back on her. One would be a fool to leave themselves so open and vulnerable. Kamir was a fool for open ing his mouth and speaking to her in such a way. She could kill him right now and end his insanity- his dreams of ever returning to his homeland. His people were the ones to throw him aside.
But those grey eyes were most intimidating.
"Tell me Deimos, when the land runs dry, would you run? The truth is underneath your nose, one must wonder who the dog is." She narrowed her eyes on Kamir. But the man threw smoke to blind her from his escape into the open wilderness just beyond the roads.
It is said Kamir had come from a tribe of sorcerers who dealt in the world of something dark and dangerous. It was only rumors, but it seemed truthfull when he dissapeared instantly as if he were not of this world.
When the air cleared, she told herself that she would have to keep a close eye on Kamir. He was not to be trusted.
She poured the bucket of water over her head. Taking a deep breath as the cold hit the top of her head first, then trickled down onto her skin. She did not want to smell blood anymore. She would rather smell her own sweat, but the blood that stains her flesh and bone was just a constant reminder of memories that burst through the dam. Her eyes tightly shut, wanting to forget the past couple of hours. All she could see was death. Fighting. The fucking coward that took his own life with a grin upon his lips.
It was all but a sick game.
Dakota had been put into fight mode and it has been a taxing ordeal for her body. Bruises were forming in places she would cover up. Cuts that were not deep would be cleaned. Previous wounds from her palm to her shoulder were still a handicap for Dakota. The functionality of her shoulder would vary from soreness of the muscle down to the tingle in her fingers. She was afraid of never having full function of her arm.
A month of recovery wasn't enough, but it had to do. She could still feel pain of pinched nerves. In all the chaos around her, Dakota could not complain. She had enough worries as it is. Push through the pain. How much longer could she fake it before something happens close to her breaking point. For now, she had to make sure none of her opponents could see her handicap.
She had to become stronger. She had to fight much longer. There were people out there playing with her life! People unseen and hiding behind the shadows as they wait. Cowards. Dakota wanted to meet them face to face. She wanted answers. She wanted to know why she was here and why she and Alexios were somehow entwined in the same path.
She opened her eyes. Seeing the wood before her and feeling it beneath her feet. The light rocking of the waves crashing against the boat seemed so inviting. Trying to soothe her troubled soul. She took a piece of cloth she managed to rip off from one of the men and wrapped it around her knuckles. She was certain that the men were also taking it easy for a while. Recovery and rest were a much deserved after their losses and then some. From the looks of it, they will be in port for a few days. Unlike them, Alexios was a man who did not know the meaning of rest. Dakota had pointed it out and like always, it led to a disagreement.
'You would be no use to your men dead. Rest. No shame in taking a days break from the war front.' She said.
Dakota knew without rest, a man was just as dangerous tired then he was with a magazine filled with ammo. Soldiers get killed from the lack of sleep.
As much as she was hurt to see him go on his way, she had hoped that he would rest. Alexios was just as stubborn as Dakota. It was of any wonder how the two even got along; then again, both of them had their good days. She would hold a very deep secret within herself about her feelings towards the misthios. There was no need to open about it when there was more to be focusing on then romantic feelings.
Who would want something that was already broken anyway?
Dakota threw her hands up in defeat and walked away. She was already on edge with adrenaline. Having to go into fight mode would certainly not win her any favors. She saw it best to tend to any wounded that needed assistance. Blood. Men in pain. Dakota had to prepare herself for what she was seeing. Soldiers had to be mentally tough. Soldiers had to assist in anyway when it came to wounded personnel- soldier or civilian.
Barnabas had talked some sense into the woman after going off to the wounded men. He was much easier to talk too and get along with. Dakota had come to like the older man for his humor and stories. In a way, it reminded her of old veterans reminiscing on the old days. Dakota may not be much of a people person, but she could tolerate being around others. She even got to know some of the sailors that she had fought side-by-side with.
Good men.
Everyone had a story. Where they are from. Who they left behind. The struggles of life without knowing what lies ahead. Dakota felt a sense of comradery amongst them. Something she hasn't felt in a long time. A soldier knows their own. A soldier bonds with their own.
When Alexios's name would come about, Dakota would stay neutral about him.
Knocking some sense into him would do me justice. The bastard is only going to work himself into exhaustion. Why did she care what Alexios did? Well, he was a fucking leader with men looking to him for guidance. He was also Dakota's chance at going home.
Do you even want to go back? Admit it, you like him.
She hit the wall in front of her; Captain had become startled. Dakota seethed with pain as her knuckles began to bleed. The skin above the bone was raw and bruised. There was pain there, but it felt like small needles pinching at her skin. Dakota knew she was not going to return home unscathed. She already had scars on her body, might as well have more.
She looked over to Captain. The stall next to him was empty; Phobos's space. The large animals had since been used to her living in their holding quarters. It may not have been a picturesque scene of living with animals; Dakota found it livable and relaxing to take care of animals far easier than be around people. She made sure their living quarters were clean all for the sake of privacy. She even had a thought of when she returns to the modern world, she'll adopt a cat and name him Felix. Felix the cat. Small humorous moments had made Dakota human.
"Sorry for scaring you." She said. Captain stood in his stall quietly, but it seemed he appreciated the gesture. Captain snorted, which made Dakota smile softly. "Not my fault you scare so easily, Captain. I always thought you were the brave and cunning horse. Maybe it is Phobos who is more brave."
Dakota's smile faded. "Everyday gets harder when you feel as if someone is pulling the strings of fate. Finding yourself in the middle of a war, in a land unknown to you. Without really understanding why. Meeting people and being put through some of the harshest reality. Reliving those moments of Egypt over and over again."
She sighed heavily. The fatigue was starting to take hold. She could feel her eyes getting heavy. Dakota shook off any excess water from her skin and hair. She would have to make due with sleeping in her bindings and the fabric as a cover while her clothing dried out. She wasn't going to be sleeping in blood-soaked clothes. Grabbing the fabric, she made her way to her hammock to lay down. To the world, Dakota was going to be out like a light for a few hours.
Captain lightly snorted. He knew Dakota's troubled thoughts and when she was wanting to vent. Captain understood his master; like how Ikaros understood Alexios. Dakota knew Captain couldn't talk, but it was better to vent to an animal then having to talk to nothing.
"Being here, I have seen a side of myself that I have tried to keep hidden. I am afraid to admit to myself that I am struggling with PTSD. I saw them die and i couldn't do anything. I ruined myself and feel degraded because i abused my body. Fighting is all I know." Dakota could feel all the pent up emotions coming up. As much as she tried to keep it all down, the emotions always seemed to come up. Dakota had to let go of being guarded over her heart.
"I am afraid that I do not even know who I am anymore. What do they want with me and where do I fit in?" She wished Captain could talk. She needed words of reassurance. A friend to help her through her troubles and come to terms that she is suffering with mental problems. Unfortunately, Dakota would have to continue to fight through that darkness. Even when the hooded men stare at her and guide her, they were just shadows.
If only sleep could avoid putting me back in that place. She thought. Am I so fucked up that I must dream about the bad? Seeing them die over and over again. Having to tell the sailors to not come into my area because I might hurt them?
With the hammock gently saying and her bundled up, Dakota looked to the wall in front of her. The sound of the creaks and footsteps from above and in the other room, sleep never came easily for her. Her mind was a muddled mess with too much thought. Though her body was exhausted, her mind would not stop the marathon. She closed her eyes wishing she could be in his arms. For some reason, he always stopped the thoughts. It has been a while since someone calmed her troubled mind.
He always seems to calm me down when I have those dreams. Lile he knows that I am suffering inside my own mind. He is the only one to walk up to me when I wake from fright with a wild look on my face. He is not afraid that I will attack him. She snuggled into the fabric. Curling up into a fetal position as she thought of him. Holding her close to his chest as one would do to a lover. Dakota could feel heat on her cheeks, trying to keep herself from the madness of her mind.
I cant. I am sorry if I am given another chance at this, but right now. I cant do this. I need to get home. I need to fix myself before opening up to the possibility of companionship.
You mean love?
And for that, she was scared.
When she fell into a deep sleep, the world around her had become quiet. She was not sure if she had dreamt it, she felt someone's hand upon her cheek. Gently stroking her skin to comfort her from a nightmare she was having. Her body was convulsing and sweat was accumulating on her forehead. Her eyes were tightly shut as she was shuddering. That gentle stroke upon her cheek had comforted her and her thoughts.
In her sleep, she gently smiled.