Chapter 23: Quicksilver
Summer 248 BC Armenia
Helioketes was exhausted. Months of running and hiding on the vast steppes had taken its toll on him. The Sarmatians were not the only ones he had been avoiding. Two weeks ago, he stumbled on an imperial army and had narrowly avoided detection. Guilt racked his very soul. He had not fathomed the consequences of his actions and now 80 000 soldiers lay dead as well as the hundreds of thousands of civilians who had been butchered in the north. He had slain Herakleidies Atarneou and the spirits of his vengeful Death Seekers would finally find peace. But now the souls of hundreds of thousands would haunt him in turn.
The sound of wolves filled the air. Large Armenian beasts who hunted packs. They were closing in. Helioketes did not care anymore. If his fate was to be ripped apart by wolves, he would welcome it. It would bring an end to the guilt at least. He lay down on the hard ground, resting his head on a boulder and closed his eyes...
****
He was awakened by the smell of roasted meat, its scent filling the air. He opened one eye, and then two and the world slowly came into focus. Beside him was a camp fire with a Deer roasting on a spit. Next to the fire sat a man, his face covered by his black hood. The man seemed to be staring at something in the distance. Helioketes slowly reached for his bow..
"How rude of you Helioketes, to even think of killing the man who saved your life from vicious wolves." the man said suddenly.
Helioketes snatched his bow and reached for an arrow, only to find his quiver missing.
"Looking for this?" asked the man, lifting Helioketes quiver. In his other hand was Heliokete's shortsword.
"Who are you?"
"Ah yes, I'm afraid now I am the one being rude. I should have introduced myself. My name is Quicksilver."
The name rang a familiar bell in Helioketes' mind but he could not quite remember where he had heard the name before. That is, until the man pulled out two long knives and began to polish them.
Oh Gods! Not that Quicksilver. Not the master assassin who's name was a whisper in the wind. An urban legend, told to kids to make them more obedient...
"I know what you are. What are you doing here assassin? How do you know my name?"
"Assassin! No, no, please, I am merely a servant to a man of nobler blood than mine. Gods know I have less pure blood in me than a stray mongrel." said quicksilver. He had chuckled at the last part of his sentence as if it were an inside joke. "I am merely passing through this place. As for how I know your name, that's simple. You don't kill powerful warlords such as Philetairos and Herakleidies without someone asking questions. I am a...fan...of your work archer. Both generals killed by impossible shots fired from even more impossible distances. That is impressive Helioketes."
Oh ****, he means to recruit me into the sphere...
"No" said Helioketes
"Excuse me?" asked Quicksilver, whose lips turned upwards into a smile.
"I will not join your house of assassins Quicksilver. Your intentions are clear to me now."
At this, quicksilvers grin became even broader.
"Ahh, but you see my dear friend. You are already serving my cause and you have been for the last 20 years in your campaigns. Sphere agent or not, you will continue to serve our cause."
"No I will not kill any Lords for you or the Sphere."
"But who said the Sphere wanted you to assassinate Lords? The Sphere have plenty of assassins who can do that. You serve us in a much higher way as a soldier. After all, my father's realm holds no distinction for those who enter. Lord or slave, they are the same to my father. He prefers quantity, that greedy bastard and you have made him very happy with your recent actions. His realm is now crowded with a few hundred thousand more occupants."
"Your father's realm?"
"Yes, yes, a great realm which you will eventually see. Alas, I must be off now, I leave you your weapons and there is sufficient meat left on that deer to last you until the border of the heartlands, if that is indeed where you were headed. Farewell, I'm quite certain we will meet again and I am looking forward to it!"
Helioketes watched the man walk away in silence, pondering over the assassin's words.
What was he talking about? He must be mad. He probably isn't even the real quicksilver. He's just a madman
But his gut feeling told him otherwise... Then, realisation hit him like a hammer.
A realm which I have sent people. A few hundred thousand more occupants. But not occupants. Souls. Souls of the northmen who were butchered by the Sarmatians. And there is only one place that souls go: To the Underworld. To the Realm of Hades.
And that would make Quicksilver...the son of Hades...
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