Nikolaos

9 months before

He had nothing to his name. Nikolaos was an orphan, abandoned at birth by his mother, whom he found out later, was nothing more than a common prostitute. He was raised by a wrinkled couple who was both kind and compassionate. He worked in their small shop, making pottery to be painted by the storytellers and such.

As a boy, he wasn't much to look at. Scrawny with gold locks and large blue eyes, Nikolaos was often mistaken for a maiden. But when he grew, and did he grow, he became a man, the likes of which many girls chased. He was of medium height and slender build. Muscles protruded when he flexed, which were quite impressive. He had a golden smile and a laughing voice that made the women swoon.

But, he was painfully shy, which posed as a blockade for many of the calling girls. At first they found it adorable and intriguing, but rumors soon spread that Nikolaos was gay. Of course, he found them quite ridiculous because he liked women; he just didn't know how to say so.

The boys of the village came by the shop often, usually just to taunt Nikolaos. The few friends that he had stood by him, but they were soon driven away by vicious accusations, most saying that they were his lovers.

The golden haired boy found himself alone and miserable. It wasn't until a shriveled man came to their town in search of a healthy, radiant youth that the orphan saw a glimmer of hope.

On a sunny, cheerful morning when the scout had been in town for a mere three days, Nikolaos introduced himself. He talked amiably of his work and adoptive family, but soon turned to a more serious matter. He asked that he be chosen for the sacrifice, much to the man's surprise.

"And why would you want to do something like that?" The scout hissed with obvious agitation and bemusement.

Nikolaos sighed, "Anywhere is better than her, sir."

The shriveled being scowled and walked away, leaving a very confused Nikolaos.

"It seems I can do nothing right these days." He shook his head and walked back to his shop.

The town was rather small, so it had no square or meeting place, so the villagers agreed to meet at the southern edge of the market place. They wore their best clothes and put on their meager finery. Wine was distributed freely and the towns people enjoyed there small celebration.

All except for Nikolaos, who sat at the edge of the crowd, as silent as a statue. He accepted a goblet of wine, but had only taken a sip. Maidens, young and pretty had circled around him. The sweet smell of flowers invaded his nose. They giggled and flirted with him, none the more modest than others. But finding him cold and distant, they soon left for more willing men.

When the festival had died down enough, the bent man made his way toward the middle. He was wearing a scarlet red robe, which Nikolaos noted with disgust, was the color of old blood. The occupants of the small town came to a hushed silence, awaiting the decision of the chooser of the sacrifice.

In a loud voice, he announced the name with cool acceptance, "Nikolaos the Orphan is chosen to go to Crete!"

As though they were one unit, the villagers gasped in unison. The golden boy, the orphan, was chosen to go to Crete to face the dreaded Minotaur. With out a moment's hesitation, he walked forward, got on the giant, black steed, and rode off to the south, never to be seen by the town again.

Minos' Palace

"Are you alright, lad?" A smooth, sing-song voice asked.

I jumped back to reality. I looked to my right to see a pair of bright, blue eyes looked at me inquisitively.

I swallowed, "I am fine, thank you lady. I was just lost him some thoughts." I smiled timidly at the lovely young women next to him.

She laughed, a pleasanter sound I have never heard. "You just looked a bit sad, that is all." Her pink lips opened wide to reveal a dazzling smile.

As we followed the servants through the ornate, immense halls of the palace, I could not help but stare at this young maiden. She had long, pale hair that was neatly done in a braid down her back. Her sapphire eyes were clear and bright and a strong nose gave her a sense of invulnerability and thin, pink lips brought out her tanned skin and blushing cheeks. She was of medium height for a woman and was neither voluptuous nor slender.

She glanced at me, making me turn away hurriedly, embarrassed at my ceaseless gawking. She slipped her hand through mine, squeezing it tight. My heart beat faster.

"I dearly hope everything will turn out well. Prince Theseus seems confident in his plan, and all you men seem brave and eager to follow him."

I nodded, hoping to appear brave and resolute, "We are very eager to rid the province of these monster." The group turned a corner.

She sighed, her lovely, little hand still in mine, "I cannot help but have pity for the poor creature. He had no choice to be born or for the nature that possessed him. Why should he pay for his dreadful mother's mistake?"

I looked at her. Was there ever a kinder creature? "What is your name maiden?"

She looked at me, "I am Sappho of Zecorus, daughter of Garret and Lysandra."

I nodded my head in acknowledgement, "And I am Nikolaos the Orphan."

The servants ushered us into a large room. There were two doors on either side, one on the left for the girls and one on the right for the boys.

"Wash up and prepare yourselves for the first feast of seven. You will find clothes in the dressing room, seven gowns for seven ladies and seven robes for the seven men. Do not be late." The servants closed the door.

Reluctantly, I let go of Sappho's hand. She grinned, making my heart stop, and followed the maidens into their room. Now I understood my purpose. I was here to save the only thing I have ever loved, Sappho.

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Shanice