"I don't want to waste anymore time on our way back," Ceremus told the young knight as they exited Galatea's realm.
They were now back in the mountains, making their descent as they reached the village. Ceremus knew how tough it would be for Atilla to travel the next three days without rest, but since they had been gone longer than he had expected, he didn't want to delay their trip back any further.
He hadn't heard a single word back from Anemone after sending the letter, which worried him. Ceremus could only hope that by the time they got back, Hael would still be alive.
Atilla nodded his head, understanding how pressed for time they were. The young knight fought through his fatigue, and they were able to travel the next three days without stopping.
On the fourth day, feeling pity for the young boy, they made a quick stop at a tavern to get something to eat and then spent the night in a nearby inn.
As soon as dawn broke, Ceremus and Atilla were back on the road, pushing forward with renewed urgency. The moment of rest they had received did little to ease their exhaustion, but there was no time to waste. Ceremus noticed how the plant that seemed to glow a lovely yellow hue was fading. He didn't know whether it was his imagination playing tricks on him, but he didn't want to risk anything.
Tiresias had warned him that there was no one plant left and so he had to guard it safely. He didn't know if there was an underlying message hidden in his words as the old man often had a habit of speaking in metaphors, twisting and weaving his words to sound vague one minute, then more ambiguous the next.
If anything were to happen to the plant, he would have no other plan.
The roads were rougher now, winding through dense forests and treacherous cliffs. Atilla, though struggling to keep pace, clenched his jaw and pressed on, determined not to slow their progress. The boy's endurance was impressive, but Ceremus knew it had limits.
Still, the man didn't utter a single word of encouragement or comfort for he knew they wouldn't ease his pain. He made sure however, to remember to reward Atilla for his endeavours if they made it back safely.
They moved swiftly, and the surrounding air grew colder as they ascended another ridge. There was a strange energy in the air, one Ceremus couldn't ignore any longer. It felt as if someone was watching them—pursuing them but he couldn't get a grasp of where. There was something blocking him from sensing their presence.
He closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling in order to pinpoint its exact location but he felt a blockage every time he used his ability.
The king furrowed his brows but let it go for now since he didn't detect any malice from the energy.
Unbeknownst to him, a certain sorceress was following them in silence, hiding beneath the shadows. She continued tracking them ever since they left Galatea's realm. After spending some time amongst the mountain bandits—getting some much needed rest, she bid her goodbyes once she sensed Ceremus' energy.
As they pressed deeper into the wilderness, the shadows slithered with her movements, stretching unnaturally long, shifting when no light had touched them. Her blue-green eyes gleaming in the darkness.
By the seventh day, they had reached the eastern region, and the weather was finally warming.
"We can stop here for now since we will arrive in Trojas within a day's time."
They stopped by a beautiful lake that stretched across the land, creating a beautiful reflection under the sun. Since they had travelled without being able to bathe and cleanse themselves, Atilla took it as an opportunity to do so.
He removed his fur-lined cloak and heavy bottoms and jumped into the water, relishing its cooling temperature. Ceremus watched with amusement as the young boy played in the water without a care in the world. You would think he hadn't just travelled in open country for the past month.
The king carefully placed the plant on top of his own clothes, keeping it hidden and out of sight. He had been carrying it by hand throughout the entire trip, making sure it never lost his sight. He then grabbed a small bowl and bent over the river, scooping its contents and walked up to the horses that had carried them through their journey, giving them a taste.
Once they were satisfied, Ceremus eyed the water and took a nice soak. Since he would be returning to his kingdom, he wanted to look presentable.
He stripped off his travel-worn garments, stepping into the water with a sharp intake of breath. The lake was cooler than he expected, but the sensation was refreshing after days of relentless travel. He submerged himself fully before resurfacing, pushing his dark hair back as the water cascaded down his shoulders.
Atilla floated lazily a few feet away, taking in the sight before him. He had to admit that Ceremus was a good-looking man, with a beauty that transcended all mortal comprehension. Words alone couldn't describe his stunning appearance.
The young man felt like it was a shame such a regal man would be unable to reproduce an equally sublime heir, but he was also glad that Hael, a man with just as much beauty would be able to spend his life with Ceremus as a partner.
Atilla's cheeks heated as he realized how inappropriate his thoughts had become. He quickly dunked his head in the water to calm his intrusive thoughts—to no avail. He left the water out of embarrassment.
The knight emerged from the water, his face still warm despite the cool breeze that greeted him. He quickly retrieved his clothes, shaking off excess droplets before pulling on his tunic. His heart was still racing, not from the chill, but from his own unruly thoughts.
Ceremus, unaware of Atilla's flustered state, remained in the water, his gaze distant.
He closed his eyes as he tried to rid himself of any negative thoughts. At the same time, a serpent emerged from beneath the rock, slithering away from them. The innocent and unassuming snake moved his eyes in search of food when suddenly, a flash of light entered him.
The serpent's eyes expanded, flashing a hint of red before turning back to normal. Suddenly, it changed course, making its way towards them. Its gaze zeroed in on the plant that was in its view and quickly made its right for it.
From the celestial realms, Dicaeus watched his new puppet making its way towards the plant—ready to devour it. Just as it opened its mouth—baring its teeth, something within Atilla clicked, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the snake that was approaching the plant. With not enough time to make it by running, he grabbed the knife that was attached to his leg and threw it with monster-like precision, hitting the serpent right between the eyes.
Sensing the commotion, Ceremus directed his attention to Atilla and witnessed the scene from the water. His heart sank as he saw how close the serpent had gotten to consuming the plant. Had it not been for Atilla's quick reflexes, it would've all been over.
From beyond the mortal world, Dicaeus cursed under his breath in fury. Divine intervention had thwarted his attempts once again. Just as he was about to send another strike, a voice called from behind him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Dicaeus swirled around and was face to face with a goddess he had never expected to see—Kaleeso.
"You!" He called as his face twisted with rage. "What are you doing here?"
Kaleeso said nothing as she sauntered towards him, her hips swaying elegantly with each step she took. The surrounding air was just as powerful and overwhelming as he remembered, and Dicaeus unconsciously took a step back.
"Do you make it a habit of toying with my creations, lord Dicaeus?" She asked in a soft voice, yet her tone contained a certain sharpness to it, making his heart sink.
"W-Whatever do you mean?" He asked, feigning ignorance.
"You have been bringing nothing but harm to my creations, have you not? There is no use denying it since I already have the proof right in front of me." She said as she pointed to the looking glass in front of him.
His expression paled, but not for a moment as his eyes narrowed at her. "And what of it? This is my realm. I am free to do as I see fit."
Kaleeso tsked, regarding the god of chaos as if he were a fool. "See, that's where you are wrong, lord Dicaeus. By intervening in the lives of these two mortals, you are directly stepping foot in my domain. You are essentially declaring war with my realm, and you know gods get punished for crossing such lines."
Dicaeus' expression faltered as she uttered those words. She didn't even have to explain further for the god to know what she meant—yet he refused to yield.
"I have every right to seek vengeance against those miscreants. Daring to destroy the kacoethes was a direct challenge to me. How could I just sit idly by and do nothing?" He argued.
"I understand your grief, lord Dicaeus, though I cannot in good conscience agree with your methods. Why was one of your kin even out in the mortal world? It should've been bound in the spiritual realm, so why was it out there in the first place? Not to mention the destruction it had caused, bringing in other creatures along with it. This incident nearly destroyed a village and took many lives. It's a miracle lord Anos hasn't caught wind of this yet."
Dicaeus' expression froze. "...Hasn't caught wind? Are you saying…you purposefully omitted from telling him about this?" He asked with furrowed brows. "Why would you do such a thing?"
Kaleeso stepped forward, now standing in front of him. A smile painted her rosy lips as she bore into his crimson eyes. "I wanted to see how you would act, and I'm glad you haven't betrayed my expectations. All that was needed was to build a hefty case against you so you could face a grave punishment when faced with lord Anos."
And just as she uttered those words, the doors to Dicaeus' realm opened with a mighty gust of wind. The air suddenly changed, becoming heavy and oppressive. Dicaeus knew without having to look who that earth shattering presence belonged to.
Anos, the leader of the gods, had appeared before them. His eyes akin to lightning glowered at the god of chaos, and all Dicaeus could do was lower himself in the face of such power. A chilling silence fell upon the celestial realm as Anos took slow, deliberate steps toward them. The very fabric of Dicaeus' domain seemed to recoil at his presence—shadows slithered away, and the once-dancing flames in their braziers dimmed as if bowing in submission.
Dicaeus gritted his teeth, fists clenched at his sides. He could already feel the weight of judgment pressing against him, threatening to suffocate him where he stood. He had expected resistance, perhaps a warning or a scolding, but Anos's personal descent into his realm was far worse than he imagined.
Kaleeso, ever composed, took a step back, folding her hands in front of her with an unreadable expression. The satisfaction gleaming in her eyes did not go unnoticed by Dicaeus.
"Lord Dicaeus," Anos spoke at last, his voice carrying the depth of rolling thunder. "You have meddled in the affairs of mortals, twisting fate for your own whims. You have disrupted the balance, and yet, you dare look upon me without remorse?"
Dicaeus kept his head low but could not stop the scowl forming on his lips. "I was merely protecting what was mine. Those mortals—those pests—dared to defy me, and I acted accordingly."
A flicker of divine energy rippled through the air, crackling like a storm about to break. Anos' gaze sharpened, his presence growing ever more suffocating.