The two lovers silently stood on the roof of a building surrounded by a sea of bloodshed. Both of their hair softly danced in the slight breeze calmly rolling by. However, the troubled look on Aaron's face was anything but serene.
"What? Why are you even here then? No, first, do I even really know you?" Asked Aaron with confliction in his heart.
Amira's serious expression melted with a soft chuckle as she pulled down the dark veil that hid her face's features.
"Aaron. I am still the woman you know, the woman you love. How could this change that?" She said coyly.
However, Aaron's unmoving expression proved his apparent distrust.
"Don't switch the subject. You already know my truth, so don't feed me any bullshit." Said Aaron with annoyance.
The vixen stopped her play and regained her seriousness.
"Look…" Said Amira with seriousness. "This dangerous world we live in is filled with many secrets. Some of which, most people couldn't even fathom."
Amira noticed his growing distrust and attempted to reassure her partner.
"There was once a time when the kingdoms knew of our existence and supported our mission. But, because of their foolishness, most have already forgotten about such times. Now we remain in the minds of their rulers as nothing but mere shadows of a distant past." Explained Amira in earnest.
Aaron tried to comprehend why such a secretive group like theirs even existed in the first place, and what their ultimate goal could be, but what came to mind wasn't anything good.
Plus, it was clear to him that she was still avoiding revealing any secrets or actual objectives of the order as she carefully explained it to him.
"So why Zephyr? Why go through all of that trouble?" Asked Aaron, prying for more details.
"Because, without us, the world would just continue to plummet towards its downfall. While the petty conflicts and imbecilic wars would only continue to rage on. Just look at the pitiful state your kingdom was in; Kings who couldn't protect their people; Officials corrupt and gorged at the expense of the people; Famine and disease that plagues half of the continent's population." Amira lectured, as she gestured to the chaos around them.
"We can put an end to it all! We can return this era to a peace it hasn't seen in centuries, and make a world safe for those who are too weak to defend themselves." She argued, purposefully addressing his ideals.
Aaron's knitted brows shifted slightly at the thought of such a world. He had only ever wished such a life for the orphans and companions that surrounded him. But why did this order hide itself if it had such noble intent? For what reason would they not have announced their intentions from the start? They could have garnered so much more support.
The sentiments just didn't match their actions. It was obvious he wasn't being told the whole truth, since what he was hearing was just a little too perfect.
"Is such a thing even possible?" Was all Aaron could mutter amidst his racing emotions and conflicted thoughts.
"Why don't we find that out together?" Suggested Amira as she stepped closer to him.
Aaron's guard nearly shattered completely as his lover's sweet fragrance and touch entered his senses. Her calming hands brushed against the side of his youthful face and played with his blonde hair.
"What about Strom?" Whispered Aaron who was nearly under the woman's trance.
She responded, "I'll deal with him. He's a Roman now isn't he? He left you all to starve while he saved himself."
As Aaron's lips parted to utter a reply, his eyes sharpened as a shout blew in with the breeze from a distance.
"Aaron!"
His brother's voice broke the spell Amira had placed him under.
"Strom!" Shouted Aaron reflexively.
Amira's perfect smile twitched at the sound of the Roman's voice, who should have been dead.
"Well?" Asked Amira again, returning to her same seductive tone.
Aaron paused his advance towards his brother's and Marcus's shouts.
"I do hope that such a world you have described will come to fruition, and I may have resented my brother for all the pain he has caused, but, I'm sure there was a reason for it. If it weren't for his return, the people from the slums and I might not have been able to escape alive. He's helped us, helped me, with overthrowing those corrupt officials and returning the kingdom back into the people's hands…" Firmly replied Aaron.
While weighing his decision, the memories of the times he spent with her and the days when he and his brother were still together, resurfaced in his mind.
"A week ago, I would have immediately joined you. But now…"
"Don't." Interrupted Amira with a very quiet pained voice, unfitting of her usual character.
"But even in such a world, if it existed without him… I would rather suffer in the present." Said Aaron as his fist unclenched after coming to his decision.
Amira's smile wavered, before she walked back to the edge of the roof and stared down at the battle raging below.
"Please …" She whispered at almost an inaudible level.
"I hope that we can see each other again after this is all over." Aaron said as he turned to leave.
"If only that were possible…" Amira somberly whispered.
Aaron turned his back to his previous lover and stepped towards the direction of his brother's voice. But, his next step was interrupted as he staggered, while a dark crimson dagger protruded from the rags around his chest. The red blood dripped from the tip of the curved dagger and painted the young man's clothes as he fell to his knees on the rooftop.
The shadowy figure behind him grabbed his hood and dragged him to the edge of the roof where Amira stood.
A Roman soldier from below raised his sword in triumph after defeating two of the dark robed assailants that had cornered his comrade. His small victory party was stopped after feeling something drip down the side of his face. A tear from above had dripped down over the blood stains on his cheek, leaving a thin clear trail.
Mere moments after the bizarre phenomenon, the body of a young blonde man in rags crashed onto the street beside him. The soldier stared at the fresh corpse in confusion, before looking up to try to find the origin of the corpse and droplet. But, besides a cracked tile roof of the building above him, there were no indications as to what had happened to the man that lay at his feet.
Back at the center of the noble district, Strom and Marcus ran towards the sound of fighting.
"Should we really be taking children to the front of a war?" Asked Strom, concerned, as he looked over to the burly warrior beside him. Who was currently fighting against the indignant tantrums of the young princess he was carrying.
"I think this one likes fighting though." Teased Marcus as he shrugged his shoulder to jolt the princess in an effort to end her protests.
Strom shook his head in exasperation at his friend's remark.
'If Aaron is out there in the thick of things, then it might not be a good idea to meet him there. Especially with these two currently under our care. Plus those mercenaries… I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to actually be alive right now, according to their scheme.' He debated.
He needed to get to his brother and inform him of the true intentions these fake mercenaries were concealing, but with the two children and Marcus… It wasn't very plausible.
'Letting Marcus know about this or even beginning to explain things to him would probably be a bad idea for now.' He decided.
He glanced over at the warrior running beside him again.
"Let's try and meet them elsewhere. I don't think heading over there is gonna help things at all." Suggested Strom, before the two men stopped.
They halted by one of the buildings, a block and a half up from the mercenaries' line of defense.
"You're one of them, aren't you? Even if we run into any of the Romans, you can probably just get us by them. Can't you?" Questioned Marcus as they let the kids down from their backs and guarded them from outside of the building.
"Probably, maybe, I don't know. I don't think we should risk it unless it absolutely comes to that. They're the last remaining royalty of the kingdom now that the king is dead, right? So at best, they'll be taken in for questioning and then used as political bargaining chips or puppets." Said Strom with a sigh.
"Right… If only the queen…"
"Nope, it's only us. She passed shortly after childbirth if I remember correctly." Interrupted Strom.
"Yes, unfortunately." Agreed Marcus while rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand.
The two sat in silence as they tried to determine what their next course of action should be.
"Hey, you're pretty strong, aren't you?" Asked Strom with an idea beginning to form.
"Oh, wanna finally see which one of us is better?" Asked Marcus with some surprising enthusiasm.
"No, not that. I meant that, if I left you here with them, you'll be alright by yourself." Replied Strom with irritation at the warrior's constantly battle-driven mindset.
"Of course! Who do you think I am? Sigexe?" Retorted the stubbornly proud warrior.
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you, but don't go causing any unnecessary trouble. You hear?" Said Strom.
"Leave it to me. I've never let your brother down." Proudly claimed Marcus as he pounded his chest.
"Okay, then here's the plan…" Explained Strom.
Suddenly near the frontlines of the raging battle, taking place further up the streets, a loud clap of thunder boomed.
The loud shouts and curses being thrown from both sides were silenced by a short youthful man, who wore all white armor, walked through the splitting ranks of Roman soldiers.
There was a fierce engraving of a lion's head on the man's chest-plate, and to the soldiers, felt like the true creator of such a roar.
The man halted his march as the soldiers around him stopped and saluted, while those engaged in battle resumed.
Axus looked down at the body impeding his path at his feet.
"Those of you who are able-bodied gather the wounded and deceased! You! Take this blonde kid back with you too!" Ordered the commander.
He pointed to a soldier beside him and then to the blonde young man, slain at his feet amongst the mess of bodies.
"I'll deal with them." Muttered Axus as he spun the long golden spear from his back and halted its movement, with its point facing the black robed assailants.