Demi-God

The moon hung low in the sky, creating long shadows across the narrow streets of the slums. Drakon emerged from a ramshackled building, laughing. He turned back to wave at Melissa and her siblings, who stood huddled in the doorway.

"Take care, you little rascals," he called out, his voice gruff but tinged with warmth. "And remember, if anyone gives you trouble, you come find me."

Melissa nodded, a small smile on her dirt-smudged face. "We will, Drakon. Thank you for everything."

As Drakon made his way down the street, his boots crunching on the loose gravel and spotted a familiar figure leaning against a wall. Stephanos straightened up as Drakon approached, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Well, well," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "This isn't your usual haunt, old man. I'm more accustomed to finding you face-down in a tavern or with your pants around your ankles in some brothel."

Drakon kept walking. "Times change. A man can't spend his whole life chasing wine and women."

"Is that so? And what's brought about this sudden change of heart? Don't tell me you've found religion."

He snorted. "The gods can keep their temples. I've just been... reassessing some things."

"What kind of things?"

"Just things. How’d you find me anyway?"

"I’m an investigator. It’s my job."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot."

They walked in silence for a moment, the sounds of the city at night surrounding them - distant laughter, the bark of a dog, the creaking of wood as the wind picked up.

"Your boy Lucian won his match in the arena today," Stephanos broke the silence.

"Did he now? That's good to hear."

Stephanos studied the Wolf’s face. "You don't seem particularly excited about it. I thought you'd be proud of your pupil."

"Of course I'm proud. Lucian's a good kid, with a lot of potential. But..."

"But what?"

"But I'm not sure I like the path he's on. Fighting in the arena... it's a dangerous game. Not just physically, but... it changes a man. I've seen it happen before."

"I can understand that. But Lucian's not just any fighter. You should have seen him today. It was... something else."

"What do you mean?"

Stephanos hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. "I'm not sure how to explain it. He moved faster than anyone I've ever seen. It was like... like he could slow down time or something. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear, there's something different about that boy."

"Different how?"

"I don't know. But whatever it is, it's big. And I think Lucian's just starting to realize it himself."

"That's good to hear."

They turned a corner, the narrow street opening up into a slightly wider thoroughfare. The smell of sewage and rotting vegetables hung in the air.

Stephanos glanced back in the direction they'd come from. "So, who were those children you were waving to?"

"It's none of your business."

"Did you save them or something?"

Drakon stopped, turning to face him. "How did you know that?"

"Just a guess," Stephanos shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "You're not exactly known for your charitable nature. Seeing you with a bunch of kids in the slums... well, it doesn't take a genius to put two and two together."

Drakon held Stephanos' gaze for a moment longer before resuming his walk.

"So you did save them, didn't you?" Stephanos hurried to keep up.

"What if I did? It's not like anything's going to change."

"What about our mission? Getting information on the Persians? Have you forgotten about that?"

"I haven't forgotten. I'm still on the mission."

"Are you?" Stephanos raised an eyebrow.

The question hung in the air between them. Drakon's pace slowed, his shoulders tensing.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he growled.

Stephanos held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, I'm not judging you. But you have to admit, this isn't like you. Helping kids, avoiding the taverns... it's a big change. I'm just wondering if your priorities have shifted."

Drakon stopped again, turning to face his friend. The moonlight lit harsh shadows across his scarred face, making him look older and more weary than usual.

"My priorities are my own business," he said. "The mission will get done. But that doesn't mean I can't help a few kids along the way."

"Fair enough. But be careful. Getting attached... it can complicate things."

"I know. But maybe... maybe some things need to be complicated."

"Complications can lead to disasters, Wolf. You know that better than anyone."

"Not on my watch," he said as he started walking again.

"What happens after the mission, huh? You planning on staying here and looking after those kids?"

Drakon shrugged. "Maybe."

"That's insane. Don't those kids have parents?"

"Their parents are dead. They're on their own now."

"Shit. How'd it happen?"

"Guards caught them doing a heist. Didn't end well."

Stephanos ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry to hear that. But regardless of what happened to their parents, you can't be their replacement."

Drakon whirled around. "And what shall I do? Leave those kids alone to die?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Stephanos held up his hands. "But you need to remember something crucial here. You're not their father. And you never will be."

The words hung in the air between them, sharp and cutting. Drakon's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw working as he struggled to control his emotions.

"You think I don't know that?" he spat. "You think I'm trying to play happy families here? Those kids need help. They need someone in their corner."

"And what happens when we have to leave? You're going to break their hearts all over again."

"I don't know, alright?" Drakon said, throwing his hands in the air. "I don't have all the answers. But I can't just walk away and pretend I never saw them."

"This isn't like you, Wolf. Since when do you care about street kids?"

Drakon was quiet for a while, his gaze distant. "Maybe I'm tired of not caring. Maybe I'm tired of watching people suffer and doing nothing about it."

Stephanos' expression shifted. "What about Lucian?"

"He's a big boy. I'm sure he can take care of himself."

"You promised his father you'd look after him."

"And I did. Job done."

Stephanos watched as his companion's figure grew smaller in the distance. Then, a realization struck him. What Drakon sought was not so different from what most people desire - a chance to live on his own terms. He yearned for a quiet existence, free from the burdens that had long weighed him down, a life of peace and simplicity.

"I know what you want. You want a life."

Drakon paused and turned. "What if I do? Is there something wrong with an old man asking for something small in this world?"

"Sparta needs you."

A bitter laugh escaped Drakon's lips. "Fuck Sparta. They exiled me. Why should I give a damn about them?"

"How about your pledge to General Brasidas?" Stephanos countered. "You swore you'd finish this mission."

"Fine. I'll finish this mission. And then I'll stay here with the children."

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Stephanos watched the Wolf, noting the weariness in his eyes.

"You really mean that, don't you?" Stephanos asked. "You're ready to give it all up."

"I've given enough. To Sparta, to the mission, to everyone else. Maybe it's time I did something for myself."

"And you think playing father to a bunch of orphans is the answer?"

"I don't know if it's the answer. But it's something. Something real. Something that matters."

Stephanos sensed the iron will that had made his Drakon a feared fighter on the battlefield. Yet beneath that tough exterior, he glimpsed something else - a hidden desire for peace, a life beyond the clash of swords and the cries of dying men. For all his skill in combat, it was clear he yearned for more than just another victory, another enemy vanquished. He wanted something that no amount of conquest could provide - a chance to lay down his weapons and find meaning in a world not drenched in blood. To be a father to those children.

But there’s another side of Drakon - the warrior within. It's an integral part of who he is, impossible to shake off or escape. The reputation as the Wolf of Sparta follows him, a double-edged sword that brings both respect and danger. This fame puts a target on his back, attracting those with evil intentions. As he strives to protect the orphans under his care, the very legend that defines him also threatens their safety. The challenge lies in balancing his past with his present mission, knowing that his warrior identity can't be erased but must be managed for the sake of those he seeks to save.

"You're making a mistake," Stephanos said. "This isn't who you are."

Drakon met his gaze, locking eyes with him. "Maybe this is who I aspire to be. All I ever wanted was to mean something to someone, to have a purpose, to have a place I can call home. Maybe the gods will grant me this one simple wish - a peaceful life, filled with joy instead of bloodshed."

Without waiting for a respond, he turned and walked away, leaving Stephanos standing alone in the street, wondering if he'd just witnessed the end of an era.

"What a pity that happened to the Wolf," a voice suddenly cut through the night air, startling the Spartan.

Stephanos whirled around to find Thais standing behind him. "How did you get here?"

"I happened to pass by when I saw the two of you. Thought I'd visit, say hello."

They both watched Drakon disappear from the distance.

"You heard that, huh?" Stephanos asked.

"Not really. But I knew where Drakon went. I know quite a bit about those children he's so fond of."

"That's right. You're the Whisperer. Of course you'd know."

She chuckled for a bit. "Something like that. I knew their parents. They worked for me once."

"Really?"

"Yes. I was the one who had them killed."

"What?! Why?"

Thais sighed. "Melissa's parents, Cyrus and Arete, were planning to rob me of the money I got from the arena as bets. But I knew about their little heist before they could even start. I couldn't let that stand. So I had them eliminated as punishment."

Stephanos shook his head, struggling to process this information. "If Drakon knew about this... he'd kill you."

"I'm well aware. Which is why I appreciate that you won't say anything."

"You're asking me to keep this from the Wolf?"

Thais stepped closer, her eyes locked onto his. "I'm not asking. I'm telling you. This stays between us. For everyone's sake."

Stephanos swallowed hard. "And if I refuse?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Her smile widened. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that. We all have our parts to play in this little drama. Yours is to keep your mouth shut. Can you do that?"

Stephanos held her gaze for a while before finally nodding. "I can. But this doesn't sit right with me, Thais. Not at all."

She gave his face a gentle tap. "It doesn't have to be," she said, walking away. "Just keep it between us. Goodnight, Spartan. Sleep well."

As she disappeared into the night, Stephanos stood rooted to the spot, the weight of his new knowledge pressing down on him. This secret could change everything - for Drakon, for the children, for their mission. Revealing it could be even more dangerous. With a heavy sigh, he turned and began the long walk back to his quarters, wondering how long he could keep this information to himself, and what consequences awaited him if he failed.

Stephanos laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing with the weight of the secret he now carried. The creaking of the door interrupted his thoughts, and turned to see Lucian entering the room, his mouth full of chicken and bread.

"Hey," Lucian mumbled, swallowing a mouthful. "I just saw Drakon come home. You know where he went?"

He hesitated for a moment, the truth on the tip of his tongue. But what was the point? Telling Lucian would only complicate things further, and he'd promised Thais he'd keep quiet.

"I don't know," Stephanos replied, rolling over and turning his back to Lucian, hoping the younger man wouldn't press the issue.

Lucian stood there for a moment, chewing. He sensed something was off, but he couldn't put his finger on what. After a few seconds of silence, he shrugged.

"Alright," he said, accepting the explanation without question. "Well, I'm gonna finish my meal. Night."

As the sounds of Lucian's meal faded into the background, Stephanos closed his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep. But rest eluded him, his mind filled with thoughts of Drakon, the orphaned children, and the web of deceit he now found himself tangled in. It was going to be a long night, and he had a feeling it was just the beginning of many sleepless nights to come.