Chapter 51: Chapter 51: Opening Up

“Horn of Hades, that fucking hurts!”

Praxis gripped the bed with all the strength that his hands would allow. His wrists and his side burned with a fire that should be reserved for the underworld. The pain was excruciating but he got the sense that if he could just sit upright, it might be worth it.

That notion was quickly put to rest as his side started to actually pulse with pain once his feet hit the ground. Praxis ground his teeth together as he tried to withstand it but he couldn’t take it any longer. His back hit the bed within seconds, causing him to let out a subtle moan of pain in his retreat.

“I’m never going to get out of this bed,” he grumbled, clutching his side.

It had only been a day since he woke up in the small, nameless village in Arcadia. It had been a day filled with agony—both in the physical and the mental sense. The physical was obvious but the mental was owed to the fact that Praxis was now an exile.

He was a man without a home. He was nothing more than a vagabond in a world that was cold and unfeeling. What was even worse was that he’d dragged someone else into his misery.

“Praxis, what did you try to do?”

Lysandra must have heard the commotion because she rushed into the room, not stopping until she was at his bedside. She took one look at his body and gasped.

“Your wound has opened again. Blessed Demeter, what were you doing that caused it?”

There was no use lying to her. Not after they came this far.

“I was trying to get on my feet,” he explained. “I’m tired of being in this bed, bored out of my mind. I figured if I could just stand up, I might not feel so damned helpless.”

He might as well have admitted to cheating on her because the reaction was the same. Lysandra’s face turned red in anger.

“You stupid man, what were you thinking?” she bellowed. “You know what Demetrios said! You can’t get out of bed for a week at minimum! Why would you do something like this that’s only going to prolong your misery?”

“I can’t imagine being any more miserable than I am right now,” he muttered. “You try being stuck in this bed.”

Lysandra gave him a knowing look. “You think I’m not bored too? I’m stuck in this house just as much as you are.”

That was indeed true, as Demetrios had warned them about going outside, especially into the rest of the village, which would just as soon give them up to the Spartans in order to maintain their protection.

“At least you can get up and walk around, Lysandra. I’m just stuck here.”

Her rage finally cooled some. “I know it’s hard but it’s the only way. You should be thankful that you’re still here in this world. I was afraid you might have gone to the underworld for a little while.”

“I nearly did,” replied Praxis, remembering the dream he had while he was unconscious. Or was it a dream? “Thankfully, Athena wasn’t ready for me yet. She still needs me here.”

She gave him an odd look. “One of these days you’re going to have to tell me about this sudden pivot to Athena. It’s a little out of character for you.”

“I can tell you now, seeing as we have all the free time in the world. Athena is my new personal goddess. I’ve given up Apollo for her.”

“Why?” asked Lysandra before lowering her voice. “Is it because your mother is gone? Or your adopted family? I know how closely they were associated with Apollo.”

Praxis shook his head. “Nothing like that. It just struck me that Athena is better suited to be my patron than Apollo ever was. I mean look at me and then look at what Apollo is known for. Revelry, drinking, parties—is that me? Athena is more representative of who I am.”

Lysandra shrugged. “If it makes you happy. And as long as Apollo doesn’t get upset with you for the abandonment.”

“I’m happy with Athena’s blessing. She’s taking care of me now.”

It was almost as if the goddess had heard his words. A stiff breeze blew into the room, carrying a scent from far away. It was the scent of olives—a symbol of Athena. Praxis smiled a little as he thought about what happening in his dream. Athena was watching after all.

Lysandra smirked at him. “I thought it was me that was taking care of you.”

“You’re doing an excellent job at it as well, let me assure you,” said Praxis. He held out his arm and Lysandra took the invitation, slipping into bed with him. It wasn’t for any kind of adult activity but rather for the closeness. Praxis found that he liked having her body against his. It was calming in a way that he hadn’t expected.

“As long as you know who’s doing the heavy lifting,” she teased.

“Trust me, I know,” he muttered.

There was silence for several minutes. Despite the closeness of Lysandra, he couldn’t help but drift back to think about Argos. Praxis wondered when he would ever see his home city again, or whether he would even want to go with Xanthos in charge of it. He also thought about how many had died in that last attack. Many were friends of his like Theron and Lysander.

None of them deserved the fate they received.

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“Hey.”

Praxis turned his head to look at Lysandra.

She caressed his jaw softly. “You’re far away again.”

“How could you tell?”

“There’s this look you get in your eyes. Even when you’re looking right at me, you’re distant. It’s like you could be on the other side of Greece. What’s wrong?”

“The same thing that was wrong yesterday and the day before,” replied Praxis. “Argos.”

Lysandra swallowed heavily and nodded. “I miss it there. And I really miss my brother.”

“Something’s been weighing on me,” admitted Praxis. “And I feel the need to tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry that he died.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“If he hadn’t trained with me, he might not have fought back. He might have stayed put and he might still be alive today.”

“But he’s not,” said Lysandra. “I get what you’re doing but we can’t play the what-if game. Lysander did what he thought was right. Isn’t that what you told me right after we left Argos?”

Praxis nodded. “You’re right.”

“Well, then we don’t need to go down this road. He’s not coming back, but I miss him greatly. Sometimes, it just hits me that I’m never going to see his face again. After all we’ve been through, that hurts the most.”

Praxis held her close to him, listening to her soft breathing. He thought that might be the end of the conversation but Lysandra surprised him with what she said next.

“Ever since our parents died, it’s only been Lysander and me. So many years have passed that I can scarcely remember their faces. All I remember is that I was ten which would have made Lysander six. Our parents owned some property in the Argolis—a small farm that wasn’t very productive but it allowed us to have a house in the city. One day, they told us they were going out to the farm to bring their olives into the city. We never saw them again.”

“Do you know what happened to them?” asked Praxis.

Lysandra shook her head. “I assume it was brigands but I don’t know for sure. All I know is that they never came home. We waited for days, even attempting to go to the farm on our own in search of them. We never found them. I can only imagine what happened to them but they would have to be dead. After all, who else would just abandon their children like that?”

Lysandra sniffled and continued. “After that, we were lucky that my mother’s brother was still alive. He would support us for the next six years until he died. Our uncle wasn’t a rich man by any stretch of the imagination but he helped us stay afloat with money. The first thing that had to go was the farm. That bought us about a year or two of money but when that ran out, we sold the house in the city next. Our uncle found us the current house we were living in—much smaller than what we had before but more manageable. It was around that time that I started to work full-time as well. My first job was as a baker’s assistant. It wasn’t much but it allowed me to take care of the house and Lysander.”

Lysandra wiped a tear from her face. “Most people don’t have to grow up that early but we didn’t have a choice. Looking back on it, I don’t know if I could have done it just on my own. I had my brother with me. He needed me and if I let him down, it meant starvation, or worse, death. He was the one that kept me going. At least if I had nothing else, I had him.”

She took a deep breath as her body shuddered. “Now what do I have? I have no family, Praxis. They’re all dead and it’s just me. What else am I here for?”

Praxis pulled her close. “You have me, don’t you? Doesn’t that count for something?”

She nodded against his shoulder. “Thank the gods that I do because I don’t know what I would do otherwise.”

“You’d be strong,” said Praxis. “You’re one of the strongest women I know, Lysandra. I know it might not feel like it now, but you’re resilient. You’ll get through this and you won’t have to do it alone. This pain that you’re feeling is only temporary. Together, we’ll move past it.”

Lysandra closed her eyes for a moment. “You know something? There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t thank Hera, Demeter, and all the gods that you’re in my life. I don’t know how you do it but you always know how to say the right thing.”

“My stepfather would have disagreed with you,” replied Praxis. “But I appreciate the sentiment either way.”

She actually smiled at him. “Your stepfather was wrong. You’re a good person, Praxis. And though I only have one person left in the entire world, I’m glad it’s you.”

Praxis leaned over to kiss her. “You won’t do this alone, I promise you.”

“And I’ll give you the same promise. No matter where this journey takes us, you’ll never do it alone. I don’t care where we go. If it’s Messenia, then I’ll gladly follow you. I’m not trying to replace my brother but rather, I’m trying to be thankful that even though someone has been pulled out of my life, the gods have seen it fit to put someone new into it.”

“Not bad for a one-night stand either, is it?”

Lysandra started to laugh. “Not bad at all. Not bad at all.”

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