Odyssey Journey (1)

Alexios set down his round shield and spear, lying between the rock crevices as he carefully extended a plastic tube into the gap, greedily sucking at the water within with his mouth.

After only five or six swallows, Alexios felt himself revive. He no longer swallowed the water but held it in his mouth and spat it into the empty canteen beside him. Repeating this a dozen times, the canteen was finally nearly full.

Alexios capped it and reached back to hand it over. The boy behind him, holding a bow and arrow on watch, took the canteen without hesitation, unscrewed the lid, and drank deeply. He stopped when about half was gone, then passed it to the last person present.

Alexios glanced briefly at his brother and continued his water collection. They were his younger brother Lycurgus and his cousin Aurelian, the three brothers traveling together on the "Odyssey Journey."

The "Odyssey Journey"—that was what the locals called this great path of ascension. Boys aged ten to fifteen were permitted to form groups of up to three, setting out from Khalkones to reach the Angel's Sanctuary in the middle of the sea within a set time.

Most of the journey passed through dangerous wilderness and treacherous mountains, and the angels decreed that no one was allowed to help them. Not that there was anyone to ask for help along this road. They were only allowed to bring cold weapons at the start, and no advanced technological equipment—the standard for "advanced tech" being anything as simple as a Promethium lighter.

By now, they had been walking for six full days. Their food supplies were nearly gone, and worse, their water had run out. If not for finding this water source in the rock crevice, they would have died of thirst in these dry mountains.

Alexios knew they had to pick up the pace. They had already spent too much time on the land portion of the journey. They had a map, but the distance on paper and the actual walking distance proved to be two completely different things. At this rate, they wouldn't make it to the Angel's Sanctuary, and even if they did, the angels wouldn't accept latecomers.

After replenishing their water and checking the stars' positions, Alexios and his group decided to set up camp and rest. Even if they needed to hurry, they had to ensure their physical condition first. Besides, traveling at night in this place wasn't a good idea. They could refill their canteens again before leaving in the morning.

The three of them divided the work tacitly: gathering firewood, lighting a campfire with flint, and arranging the night watch. Alexios and his brother took out their sleeping bags, removed their bronze muscle plates, wrapped themselves in their red cloaks, and were the first to fall asleep.

In his dream, Alexios saw his father again—the leader of the Lasidream people, the king who was killed by a Laser Gun shot from the enemy during negotiations atop the city wall.

In Alexios's memory, his father was strong and imposing, wise and brave. He taught Alexios and his brother in the ways of the Lasidream people. He also led the kingdom in the Lasidream way, cooperating seamlessly with the other king to make Lasidream great again.

Then the enemy ambushed his father during the negotiations—a strike utterly devoid of honor, during a sacred parley. In a fury, his uncle led the soldiers out of the city and routed those shameless scoundrels once more. They were nothing but weaklings, utterly unable to defeat the mighty Lasidream people.

It wasn't until the angels descended directly that their city gates were breached. The angel came before the second king and ordered him to surrender. The king proudly declared he would fight an honor duel before yielding.

Thus began a battle of unequal strength. The king raised his hand and hurled his spear, striking the angel's breastplate. He then drew his Lasidream Battle Knife, raised his shield, and charged. The angel merely waved a hand, shattering the king's shield and forearm into pieces.

But the king didn't care. He struck the angel's knee with his blade—a blow that should have severed the tendons in the leg—but it only rang out with a sharp clang. The king immediately slashed upward, trying to drive the blade into the angel's abdomen and churn his guts. Again, the armor blocked it. The king's force was so great that the blade snapped. The angel drew his Combat Knife and, in one stroke, cut off the king's head.

Three hits. The king had landed three hits on the angel. An honorable duel.

Thus, the blood of two kings and countless Champions bought privileges for their city-state. They surrendered but were allowed to keep their faith in Ares, the God of War, and Zeus, the King of Gods. They could enforce their own laws, levy taxes without paying tribute, and maintain their own army—the Planetary Governor had no authority over them. Because they surrendered and swore allegiance to the angels, not to those weaklings.

As the price, they had to supply the angels with soldiers, whether Mortal Soldiers or Neophytes for the angels. Because they were the bravest, and the bravest warriors must follow the strongest Lord, fighting among the morning stars.

Just as Alexios was sinking deep into his dream, a shout of "Something's wrong!" jolted him awake. It was his cousin Aurelian's voice. Instinctively, he got up and grabbed the spear beside him. His brother Lycurgus had also risen and taken up his bow.

"What's going on?"

As he asked his cousin on watch, Alexios tightened his belt and fixed the shield to his arm.

His cousin kept a wary eye out and said, "I think I saw figures—seems like they're around us."

Alexios didn't stop what he was doing. He knew why they were here. The others were also boys on the "Odyssey Journey," coming to steal their supplies. After all, their own provisions were running out, so the others couldn't be much better off.

Alexios knew there was no time to put on his armor now. He kicked sand into the campfire, extinguishing it—it made them too obvious a target.

Then came darkness, a long darkness. Under its cover, the three of them grabbed their packs and retreated to the rock crevice. Alexios held his round shield and spear, guarding the left flank. His cousin held his round shield and Lasidream Battle Knife, watching the right. Lycurgus stayed in the middle, ready to shoot arrows.

They could hear footsteps and the rustle of armor in the darkness far off, but they didn't know which direction the enemy would come from. How many? What weapons? What condition were they in? They could only wait. It wasn't that they wanted to hold the water source—retreating would leave them even more exposed.

Suddenly, a whoosh cut through the air. Alexios quickly raised his shield to block. A thud rang out as a short javelin struck his iron-banded round shield. Lycurgus reacted fast, firing three arrows in quick succession toward the direction the javelin came from.

Then came a cry of "Ah!" Soon, three figures charged in—three boys around their age. One had an arrow in his shoulder. They too held short swords, spears, and javelins, intent on killing the three brothers.

The sudden rush made bows useless. Lycurgus dropped his bow, drew his short sword, and engaged in close combat. Six boys, no grudges or grievances between them, only the fight for the chance to become angels, killing each other.

Alexios planted his shield and thrust his spear at an opponent wielding a two-handed spear. The enemy flicked his spear tip, deflecting the attack. He tried to bring his spear down in a vertical strike at Alexios's head, but the shield blocked it. Then, with a horizontal sweep, Alexios's spear shaft slammed into the opponent's head, dazing him.

Alexios always remembered what his father had told him:

"Wearing a helmet is always a good idea."

Seizing the moment while the enemy was disoriented, Alexios thrust his spear straight into the boy's chest.

He finished his fight and looked at his brother, who had already slit the throat of his opponent. His cousin, too, had hacked his enemy to death.

They seemed to have won. But when his cousin turned around, Alexios saw a short javelin deeply embedded in Aurelian's abdomen.

Both of them froze. Then Lycurgus said, "I'll get the medicine and the wine."

But it was all useless. At first, his cousin could still move on adrenaline. Soon, he couldn't stand. He began vomiting mouthfuls of blood. From what Alexios had learned from the fallen, he knew this was likely a sign of a ruptured liver.

Unless a flying machine called an "airplane" could appear in the sky right now to take Aurelian away, or a hospital run by the angels' servants existed here on the spot, his cousin was doomed.

But clearly, none of that would happen. They had come willingly on the "Odyssey Journey," and they had to accept the possibility of dying along the way. The two brothers could only stay by their cousin's side, accompanying him.

Aurelian's breath grew weaker. He looked at his brothers and said, "Alexios, I feel so cold."

The two brothers took off their cloaks and wrapped them around him.

"Alexios, I kind of regret it. Maybe I didn't need to become an angel. Maybe being some kind of mortal auxiliary soldier wouldn't be so bad."

The two brothers just held his hands tightly.

"Lycurgus, I'm sorry. I was the one who drank that bowl of black soup. I thought you weren't worthy of it."

They continued to clasp his hands.

"Alexios, I can't see. Everything in front of me is pitch black. I regret it—I don't want to be an angel anymore. I just want to go home."

Finally, Alexios made up his mind. He stood up, took his spear, and thrust it forcefully into his cousin's temple.

The two of them gathered the supplies from the scene, preparing to continue their journey. They remained silent the whole time, because their cousin, who they'd grown up playing with, was dead. Even though he'd beaten them more than once, he'd also stood up for them when they were being bullied.

Once everything was packed, Lycurgus couldn't hold back and spoke:

"Brother, aren't we going to bury our cousin?"

Alexios pretended to be indifferent as he replied:

"We don't have time."

He pointed a finger toward the sky.

"The Scavengers of Ares—those vultures up there—will take him away."