Author’s Note:
Hello all, it’s me, your favourite mutant tadpole! Been awhile, but hey, there’s a new Generation Z chapter over on FanFiction. And I know I promised the GCTO re-read would continue last month. It’ll be back in January for sure.
But as for this…I’ve actually completed my first ever attempt at original fiction. This is still far from the final product, but I wanted to write out some of what I’ve been outlining. It’s been really cool to actually try writing in the world I’ve been slowly building in my head. Hopefully it interests you.
The gryphon soared through the sky like an arrow. It sliced through the wind blowing in off the coast and manoeuvred its way over the high cliffs as it circled the cypress trees towards the edge. Folding its wings, it dove, streaking down towards the city below, startling the shoppers in a marketplace down by the docks, where a trading vessel was just pulling in. The gryphon dipped its wing in the sparkling saltwater and then soared back up towards the ridge. It gained speed with every flap of its wings, and in moments, it was a pinprick of gold and brown to the people below once more.
A man tapped the fence post in front of him, and the beast descended, landing softly before its front talons curled around the wood. It blinked, its yellow eyes peering toward the man who studied it. There was wisdom in those eyes. Wisdom beyond anything another man or woman would ever see in such a creature.
“You flew well, noble gryphon,” Milos told the beast with a grin, stroking its beak with a finger. The bird was nothing like those in the stories he had once read. The size of a cat instead of a lion, even if just as dangerous if untamed. It had four talons instead of a mismatched set of hooves and claws as one popular adventure tale told. Its head was something like a feline's with two pointed ears, yet also like a hawk's, narrow as it stretched to the beak. The eyes, though. They were thoughtful. They were wise. Few of the creatures he tamed had such a look.
“You trained the beast. Give yourself some credit, song of my heart.”
Milos sighed, turning towards the garden of his house. A lone olive tree stood at the centre of the small collection of growing vegetables. It was small, planted only five years prior. Stroking one of the branches as she peered at him, was the woman he loved above all else. Her sharp, brown eyes froze him. They always did.
“Via.”
“You seem surprised to see me.” She smiled, her gaze turning to the tree. She walked slowly around it, her white chiton rippling in the breeze. “Will it bear fruit this year?”
Milos leaned against the fence, his back to the city of Arkeios below. “It may. I was told it would be five to seven years.”
She hummed quietly, the tune comforting Milos as he closed his eyes, absentmindedly stroking the feathers of the gryphon. It was a song Via had written for him, begun before he had sailed off to war, and finished for him by the time he had returned to Soleos. A sad song. A hopeful song. A song of endless meanings.
Oh tears of the sun,
You are the golden one,
The love of my heart,
Oh where do I start,
Via stopped abruptly, and Milos opened his eyes. “You have visitors.”
Milos turned to the road leading up from the city. Indeed, two men were making their way up on horseback. One was a small man, with neatly trimmed hair, wearing his emerald chiton and riding atop a chestnut gelding. The horse was small as well, an ideal match with his rider. The man, Alden, looked nothing like his companion. A government bureaucrat responsible for signing off on incoming trading vessels wasn't likely to be very similar to the men coming in on them from across the Singing Sea.
The merchant, from the southern region of Ezar Laios, was much like others Milos had met from the eastern continent. Jewels bedecked his leather padded armour, which was largely just for show, hardly protecting his body. Not the important bits at least. He wore sandals, and rode his raven-coloured stallion with no saddle. His head was shaved and waxed so that the sun reflected off of it like a mirror.
Milos headed off to meet them, clicking his tongue to call the gryphon to him. It landed atop his shoulder, gently curling his talons around so as to not pierce him. Via had already disappeared inside the house. She was no fan of visitors.
The merchant laughed gaily as he rode up to within a few feet of Milos and dismounted his horse. “Trained it up then, did you? Bloody sirens be damned! You'll have men sailing here from my home country in the hundreds to have their beasts tamed by you!” His Ezar Laiosian accent was thick on his tongue, but he spoke the Solesian tongue well. His work required it.
“Gryphons are wise creatures,” Milos stated quietly, meeting the beast's eyes. “It is unfortunate for us Sunlanders that they only reside in your lands.”
“What did I tell you Gohar?” Alden spoke up, dismounting his own steed and making his way over. He bowed slightly in greeting to Milos. “May the Scales tilt to the light in your favour, old friend.”
“And may they rise from the darkness in yours.” Milos eyed the merchant, who was too busy staring at the gryphon to give the honorary greeting of the country he was in. “That'll be three gold marks for the taming.”
The merchant gaped. “Bloody gates of hell it will be!” He turned to Alden. “What in the bloody-”
“You came for the best, not the cheapest,” the small man squeaked nervously. “The bird will carry messages through storm or fire and never fail. It's worth the marks and more. Milos trains creatures to handle conditions worse than war.”
“I assume you saw the display on your way up here?” Milos asked. The merchant shifted uneasily, nodding. “Then I'll have the gold.”
The merchant then barked a laugh so loud it startled a dove slowly landing in the olive tree. “You bloody Sunlanders. Very well!” He pulled out his coin purse. It was bulging with the coin he'd earned on this voyage to the west. Solesians paid well for goods from the east.
Once the coin was in hand, Milos nodded and the gryphon went to the merchant's shoulder. “May you fly with the wind at your back, Golden Wings. And may your gaze honour those at your front.”
“Ha! Golden Wings! A good name, a good name!” The merchant eyed his tamed creature. His shoulders still bore the marks of what it had been like when he'd first brought it to Milos the week before. “The beast's wings will bring me much gold indeed.”
“Aye,” Milos said with a nod. “If you treat it well.”
The merchant didn't appear to be listening. “Well I suppose that's done then. I'll be seeing you.” He mounted his horse again, stowing his purse away. “Off with you, bird. Lead the way!”
The gryphon gave Milos one last pondering look, before flapping its wings and taking off. The merchant left without another word, admiring his newly tamed beast as he dug his heels into his horse and it trotted off. Milos and Alden stayed silent as the man disappeared down the path into the city proper.
“You bring another man like that to me,” Milos said, turning his back on his friend of five years, “and his throat will be slit before I pitch him off the cliff.”
Alden laughed and followed as Milos made his way to his stables, deciding not to take the threatening words seriously. “His coin was worth it, though, eh? What were you playing at with the extra two marks?”
“Nothing.” Milos opened up the stable, checking his horses briefly, before closing it and turning back to his friend. “One mark for the taming. Two for dealing with him.” He let a grin come to his face. “Had my back, though, didn't you!” He flicked one of the coins to Alden, who caught it awkwardly.
“You should keep this,” he said, rolling it in his fingers before handing it back. “You're not going to be so happy with me after you hear this.”
Milos frowned. “Hear what?”
“I...” Alden swallowed nervously. “You know the festival coming up?”
“Bloody right I do!” Milos laughed, shaking his head. “Liotan's fire, Alden. It'll be the biggest we've seen in our lifetimes. Summer solstice and the full moon! Liotan and Lunessa at their strongest on the same day!”
“Right...well...even apart from that, you know how the festival can be each year.”
“Festive, I'd say.” Milos rolled his eyes. “For those who want it to be.”
Alden blinked at the hidden meaning in Milos' words, but continued with what he was attempting to say. “Well...the governor. He...”
“Right,” Milos said, nodding. “He'll be inviting diplomats from the other major cities. Aethea and Kriminae I assume?”
“No...” Alden took a deep breath. “Tauria...”
There was a long moment of silence. Milos stared at Alden as though he'd grown a second head. When he spoke, it was in a whisper. Not of anger, but utter surprise. “The governor wants peace with the Minotaurs?”
“Aye...in a sense.”
“And what does that mean?”
Alden actually laughed. “I think both us and the Minotaurs know there likely won't be any true harmony between our lands. But the war was five years ago, Milos. Neither side has launched an attack since. Only Scarvaya and Ferivar ever engage, and it's been that way for hundreds of years. Arkeios needs to pass through Taurian waters to expand its trade reach.”
“So he means to officially end hostilities?” Milos rubbed his chin, considering the implications. “Nothing like that's been done in...well...it's never been done, has it?”
“You...approve?” Alden sounded more relieved than surprised, but his eyes were wide.
“You know how it ended for me, Alden,” Milos said shortly. “I'll take peace over war any time.”
“Aye, as we all should.” Alden swallowed, appearing reassured. “Well, the governor may want to meet with you.”
Milos stiffened. “Bloody politicians. You all want your bloody decorations, eh? A soldier from the war to act tough?”
“I'm not sure what he wants, to be honest with you.” Alden sighed. “Would you please meet with him?”
Milos spat and walked away towards his house. “Tomorrow at dawn. He comes to me.”
He didn't hear Alden's response as he slammed the door behind him. Milos knew his friend wouldn't take his outburst personally. The games of politics had irked Milos since the war. Those games had taken much from him. For all he knew, his parents had died thanks to those games. He could only hope this little manoeuvre from the governor wouldn't have such disastrous results.
“You are so tense. Why don't you lie down?”
Milos jumped at the voice. He'd forgotten about Via, and he found her sitting at his small dining table. A half eaten bowl of his morning fruit sat in front of her. She eyed it distastefully. He ignored the judgmental gaze directed his way as he cleared it and collected some water to clean his face. Once he'd freshened up a bit, he sat down across from her.
“I don't need to lie down,” he muttered, realizing Via was still waiting for his answer. “I need to prepare for this meeting Alden's dragged me into.”
“I heard what he had to say.” Her voice was like music, her Tatrosian accent singing to his ears. It eased the tension inside him as she spoke. “What is the problem with a simple meeting. You are a clever man. You don't need to be intimidated by this governor.”
“I'm not intimidated.”
Via raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you so troubled?”
“You know.”
“Perhaps you can help make it so the same doesn't happen to someone else.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling like the stars on a clear night.
“If only it were that simple.” Milos groaned, rubbing his face as he leaned back in his chair. “I'll see what the governor has to say.”
That evening, as Milos lay in his bed, Via next to him, he contemplated just what that might be. The governor had been elected two years after the war. He was likely already considering his prospects of re-election. This was a dangerous attempt at gaining popularity. Many in Arkeios would draw their blades at the mere thought a Minotaur was near. Not just Arkeios, either. Most wouldn't even trust a peace deal. But if a deal were to be made, and the Minotaurs stuck to it, perhaps it would be seen as a miracle. And a miracle only one man could accomplish.
Miracles were on the minds of the people these days. The Light of Gods Festival approached. The first full moon after the summer solstice. The day in which Liotan, the sun god, and Lunessa, the goddess of the moon, would claim the greatest victory over the shadow for the year together. This year was special. Both at their height of strength on the same day. Rarely seen, and not yet seen in Milos' lifetime. People would be in festive spirits for sure.
The governor's thought process on the matter was clever. As clever as it could be with such a risky manoeuvre. Likely it wasn’t the governor’s idea of course. Milos came from a city in which religious fervour was almost non-existent. In Arkeios, though, much like most of the Solesian cities, the populace would be feeling rather blessed. The gods would be at the height of their power. Minotaurs be damned, the people would be safe. And perhaps open minded.
Yet Milos worried about being involved. He wasn't concerned with what the city would think of him. His reputation was good. He brought wealth to the city from far off lands simply for his ability to train the beasts native to those countries. As someone who had fought in the war, it would be understood that he had value to the governor in this regard. Even if there were a few disgruntled folks that considered him a fool, that wouldn't bother him.
No, what worried him was himself. His gaze went to Via, and he found her eyeing him, laying on her side, propped up by her elbow. Milos shivered. The war had broken him in ways no one could ever understand. He wasn't haunted by the violence of the battlefield or even his brief imprisonment by the Minotaurs. Many assumed that was what made him seclude himself up on the ridge, away from the city proper. But no, his nightmares were from far worse.
“You should sleep, song of my heart,” Via whispered, caressing Milos' cheek. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He realized that he had been shaking.
“Will you be here when I wake?” he asked quietly.
“You will have visitors.”
“I need you.”
“You will always have me.”
Milos rolled over, turning away from her, but feeling his nerves settle as she began to sing. He remembered meeting Via. Her voice had attracted him to her before he had even seen her. When she sang, even the wind would stop to listen. If he ever lost the sound of her voice, he knew he would surely go mad. Lunessa herself could never make the soul dance as Via could.
And Milos' soul danced. It danced until his mind grew fuzzy and sleep finally took him.
It was one of the few peaceful sleeps Milos had had in five years. He needed it. When he woke the next morning, dread filled him immediately. He liked being up here, alone with his horses and the beasts he tamed. He was social enough. It wasn't that he hated people or didn't want to be with them. He just wanted to be with himself more. And Via, when she was there.
Milos rolled out of bed, noticing that Via was long gone. There was no trace of her, as usual. That realization saddened him. He wished she could stay forever. But he couldn't dwell on that now. Visitors were coming. The leader of his adopted city was coming. For the first time, he wondered how wise it had really been to demand the governor come to him. He wasn't usually so bold.
Nonetheless, he needed to prepare. He was an early riser with the work he did, so he'd woken up with time to clean the house a bit. It wasn't large by any means. A simple home made of pine with a small bedroom and living area. Guests were rare, so his dining table was barely big enough for two, and he only had one cushioned seat for comfort. It was all he needed. All he wanted.
He arranged a small breakfast. His usual bowl of fruit, with some cheese he'd bought in the city a couple of days before. Then, he tidied up the table, made his bed, and hurried outside to tend his garden. It was weed free, and many of his vegetables were looking like they'd be ready for harvest in time for a feast for the festival. A feast just for him, likely, but he enjoyed it that way.
The stable was next. It was small, but larger than it appeared on the outside. He had seven horses in it. Two were quite young, and two were quite old. The three in their prime were a chestnut stallion and two mares of silver-grey and white with flecks of black. Milos loved them all dearly. He'd bought the elders cheap and trained the prime ones from when they were young. The youngest two he now had were bred from his stallion and his two mares. One was just a year old, while the other was two.
Once the horses were cared for, Milos promising to get them out once his meeting was over, he headed out to his fence at the cliff's edge to look out at the city below. The sun was rising, casting an orange glow on the seawater reaching up to the docks. It appeared as though the merchant that had brought the gryphon had already left, his ship no longer in port. Milos was surprised at that, having expected the greedy man to enjoy profiting off of the festive Solesians in Arkeios during the solstice.
There was little time to ponder on that mystery, however, as the road leading up the cliff side caught Milos' attention. Six horses were trotting up. Four of the men were in the bronze armour typical of most soldiers in Soleos, the sigil of Arkeios displayed prominently on their rounded shields. A simple sailboat braving the waves of the temperamental seas. It was meant to represent the founders of the city who were but simple fishermen that built the land from nothing but their small boats and fishing rods.
With the soldiers, or guards, Milos recognized Alden in another chiton of emerald. Yet this time he wore a dagger fastened to a belt around his waist. Next to him, was the man in charge. The governor appeared to be nothing special. His chiton was a pale blue, his hair neatly trimmed and his horse sleek and shiny as though it had bathed in Lunessa's Moonpool. He was just a man, though. He certainly thought he was special, however, smirking at Milos as his horse trotted forward and dismounting as though he was stepping down onto his own grounds.
Bloody fool thinks he's a king. Milos bit his tongue, though, and smiled as he inclined his head. Four guards and Alden wearing a blade sent a clear enough message. The governor would never murder a citizen. Of course not. But Milos was not quite a citizen of Arkeios. And demanding to be met up here had been bold. And the topic to be discussed was sensitive. If he was hostile it could lead to conflict. Not likely, but still possible.
“The Scales tilt from darkness in your favour, Governor Korobis,” Milos spoke up as the others dismounted, the guards flanking the governor as Alden stayed off to the side. “And may your companions' presence shield us from the shadows pushing back.”
“Greetings, Master Helonen,” the governor responded with a tilt of his own head. “The Scales shine in light on this day thanks to you. May we battle the shadows together.”
With that done, Milos approached the governor slowly, before clasping the man's hand and shaking. “It is good to meet you properly, Governor. Our work is very different and keeps us apart it seems.”
“Indeed,” Korobis answered. “Quite the climb up here to see you. Although, I must say, you've earned this city great wealth in your trade. Training these strange beasts from other lands brings merchants from the far east of Ezar Laios. Whatever you do up here appears to be working.”
“It's rewarding work, Governor. I'm glad to have a place to do it.”
“I hear you finished with a gryphon yesterday?”
Milos nodded. “Fine creatures, gryphons. It's a shame they are not in these lands anymore.”
“They once were?” The governor appeared genuinely surprised. Milos suspected it came from a place of greed. The man likely hoped there was a chance of bringing the beasts back to this land and profiting off of them.
“It is said they largely resided where the Angel's Wall now stands. They scattered in the Landing. The Daughters of Lunessa suspect there may be some in the Regidium Mountains, but likely very few.” Milos laughed shortly. “I suspect they're too clever to show themselves to be so weak.”
The governor stared at Milos in fascination, and a moment later, Alden stepped forward, grinning. “Governor, if you recall, I informed you of Milos' study prior to enlisting in the Minotaur War. He learned under the scholars of Aethea.”
“Ah, yes, indeed!” the governor nodded enthusiastically. “Aethean...right. And your parents were in the government, yes? I believe I met them while they were here for trade negotiations.”
“Likely you did,” Milos murmured. He doubted it. This was merely to shift the conversation to what this was all really about. “They were here prior to the attack. They were among those that did not survive.”
“You have my condolences.” The governor paused, attempting to appear sympathetic. It resulted in an ugly grimace. “I expect that is what led you to enlist?”
“It was.” Milos gestured to his house. “Perhaps it would be better to discuss this inside?”
Korobis agreed, signalling three of his guards to position themselves outside, while Alden and the fourth guard followed inside. Once in the house, the governor, unsurprisingly, seated himself in the only cushioned seat. Milos and Alden pulled over the dining chairs while the guard remained at the door. Once everyone was comfortable, or as comfortable as they would be, Alden spoke up.
“So, Milos, I believe you were speaking of your enlistment in the Solesian forces that joined the Angels in the Minotaur War?” He tried his best to sound professional, but failed horribly as he groaned slightly once Milos glanced back at him.
“It's a fascinating tale,” Korobis murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he leaned back in his seat. “You were a boy, really, and yet you travelled all the way south from Aethea to fight the beasts that wronged you. Did you join the mercenaries in Solangelis, or did you enlist here in Arkeios?”
“Forgive me, Governor, but Arkeios was slow to act at the time,” Milos said. “I was rather impatient. I entered Solangelis with the Sons of Liotan-”
“The Sons of Liotan?” Korobis blinked and shook his head. “They would never enter Solangelis. They fought with the army out of Arkeios.”
“They did, sir,” Milos replied. “But they did send some men through Solangelis as well. It was once their homeland. At least in spirit to those who serve in their ranks today. Some wished to enlist independently to fight for Liotan's honour from where his blessing was first given.”
“Hm, a cursed blessing,” the governor muttered shortly. “Well, anyway, you went through Solangelis then. You fought alongside the Angels?”
Milos nodded, not particularly enjoying the memory. “Briefly. To be honest I didn't see much fighting. The Angels are...efficient. My squad was generally sent in to scout or raid smaller parties. The most fighting I saw was the Battle of Luna'Rak.”
“Where you were imprisoned?” Alden asked quietly. Milos had told him some details of this time in his life, but not much of his imprisonment. It was not the imprisonment that haunted him, however, but what happened afterwards.
Milos nodded, opening his mouth to continue before the governor clapped his hands together, appearing pleased. “This is why we need you, Master Helonen. You are one of the few men in Soleos that has actually lived among the Minotaurs! You know how the beasts think! A tamer of beasts to deal with their unruliness at the negotiating table.”
“With all due respect, Governor,” Milos said, unable to stop himself from giving the politician a distasteful look, “I do not see them as beasts. I was treated quite respectfully in their care. And I came to learn that they were not the ones responsible for deaths of my parents.”
The guard shifted at Milos' response, but Korobis didn't appear angry. Milos guessed he was too stupid to be angry. “Yes, well, it is rather unfortunate that the accusations and subsequent invasion was...misguided.”
“But that's why peace will be welcome,” Alden pointed out. “And Milos, surely you do have some perspective that would prove useful.”
“Perhaps,” Milos said, glancing back at the governor. “What exactly is it that you're planning here?”
Korobis grinned, his eyes glittering in the sunlight filtering through the window. “I'm planning for a new era. An era in which our people thrive with no threat of war from those be – those creatures in the eastern islands. We will have a peace long considered impossible. We must expand our trade routes, Milos. The Ferivans and Scarvayans are growing their naval fleets. They will raid our ships if we continue bypassing Minotaur waters to make our way to Ezar Laios. We need access! You can help us approach them in this matter in the right way.”
“If you're so worried about Ferivar and Scarvaya, why not negotiate with them?” His thoughts on the Minotaurs aside, it seemed more logical to seek peace with other humans first.
Alden coughed in response to Milos' question, and he noticed the governor's face had gone red with embarrassment. Surprisingly, it was the guard at the door who answered. “We sent emissaries to Ferivar. They believed we were in league with the Scarvayans. Their...princess...she's been aggressive. Hostilities between Scarvaya and Ferivar have increased, and as such, neither are willing to negotiate at the current time and see any outside interest as allying with the enemy. We…moved hastily.”
Princess? Milos was surprised the Scarvayans would allow a woman to rule them. He'd heard King Barondal was ill, and it was no secret that his male heirs had perished, but his daughter in charge was surprising all the same. Of course, if she was making a point in increasing hostilities with Ferivar, her people were likely enthusiastic about it. Ferivar loved war. Scarvaya lived for it.
“Liotan's fire...no wonder you're afraid of passing near their waters.” Milos knew how quickly increased hostilities and simple raids could ignite a greater conflict. And these were states built on battle. “The Minotaurs...have they actually shown interest in meeting?”
Korobis nodded, and gestured for Alden to speak up. Milos turned his attention to his friend, who explained. “One Minotaur clan has agreed to meet on the day of the festival. Others have expressed interest if the meeting should go well. The Etrar'Kazhai clan will be first.”
“Kings of the earth,” Milos whispered, surprising the others with his translation. “I was imprisoned by a different clan, so what I know may not be of help if their customs vary a great deal.”
“They can't be that different,” the governor said dismissively. “As long as the beasts – the creatures – don't attack at some perceived slight, we will consider it a step in the right direction.”
“If you can be there during the meeting, Milos, we will at least have someone that can identify something in how they behave,” Alden added.
Milos sighed, knowing the risk of participation in this matter. Who would take the blame should he fail to identify something? What would happen in such a case? But to officially end war with the Minotaurs...to potentially have real peace with them...how could he refuse the little he had to offer? Perhaps it would give him some kind of closure.
“Where do we intend to meet them?” he asked, turning to the governor one last time, seeing the man sweating nervously now as he also seemed to be contemplating the cost of failure.
“Here. The Minotaurs will be coming here.”
Author’s Note:
And there it is, my first rough draft of chapter 1 of book 1 of the Scales of Divinity. Hope you guys found it interesting and can see a little of what’s in store later on. I’d appreciate your thoughts below, particularly on what you think of Milos, and any predictions on his backstory.
Hope to see you all soon with more to read. Thanks for reading, and see you next time.