THEOS

“My sword isn’t tacky rubbish.” Luke said defensively.

Cyzicus quirked his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Really.” Luke nodded at him earnestly.

“And what about it makes you feel that way?”

“It uhh–” Luke scratched his chin as he scrambled for an explanation.

Should I tell him that the sword siphons mana? He’s been helpful so far, and he indirectly saved my life. He also has some vested interest in my growth. If he knows how it works and still wants to help me, then that's a massive plus.

Except, he doesn’t know about the Seed, and there’s no way in hell I’m telling him about that. If he hadn’t just lectured me on how ill-advised it was to manually cultivate mana then it would have been perfect, as it stands he might actively discourage me from using it.

“It’s sentimental.” Luke answered eventually. “What’s so special about that one?”

The Emperor looked unconvinced and Luke caught his eyes briefly darting to Bellerophon’s sword, before meeting his own once again.

“It’s nothing too amazing. You’re a Mortal, and as such incapable of wielding some of my better artifacts properly. This one,” he hefted the blade into the air, “is a Warrior-tier artifact, designed specifically to be used by Mortals, and it does this.” He swung the blade in a wide arc.

A blue glow appeared along the sword’s edge, and when it reached the peak of its motion, detached from the blade and cut through the air, before harmlessly splashing off a wall.

That’s pretty cool, but kinda weak. Luke looked at the lacking aftermath of the attack, before turning back to Cyzicus. “That’s not bad, I guess.”

He cleared his throat. “Nothing at the Warrior-tier is powerful enough to damage my home, but I assure you the projection is quite useful. It will drain a sizable portion of your mana as you are now, however a medium range attack has its place in battle.” He extended the handle of the weapon again.

Taking it from his hand, Luke inspected the blade briefly before funneling his mana into it. Unlike the ring he had received earlier, it absorbed it without hesitation.

It’s thirsty. Luke thought to himself, as he opened his status. He had a general sense of how much mana the sword was draining, but it was nowhere near as precise as the Seed.

As his mana decreased from nearly full, then to half, and then to a quarter, he began to worry if he even had enough energy to make the blue edge appear. Then finally, with only ten percent of his reserves remaining, the edge lit up blue. Just waiting to be released the moment he broke his connection with the blade.

“It’s not strictly necessary, but it does help with aim when you swing the blade.” Said Cyzicus.

Nodding absently, Luke picked a random section of the wall, and swung down and at the same time withdrew his mana. Once again, a wave of blue light traveled through the room, and splashed impotently against the wall.

“It was slower that time.” Luke frowned.

“It is a matter of practice. Now if my math is correct, the two items in total cost thirteen thousand merits.” The Emperor grinned as Luke opened and closed his mouth. “You didn’t think they were free now, did you?”

“Well, you didn’t think I had any merits now, did you?” Luke shot back.

“Of course you do!” He said cheerfully.

“I do?” He frowned. Since when?

“Let me see, participating in a battle against a Warrior-tier giant earned you two-thousand merits, which is enough for the sword. That leaves eleven-thousand more for that ring. I’m afraid you’ll have to spend every waking moment during the first three months of the Tide fighting giants, but I'm sure you’re up to the task.”

The first three months? Oh, right. The Olympics.

“I haven’t agreed to join the tournament.”

The ever present grin on Cyzicus’s face widened. “I’m sure I –”

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted when a woman in red-robes came flying into the room.

“My Lord!” She said, kneeling down in front of the pair. “We’ve found someone possessing a body! It could be the thief.”

She’s found what? Luke's eyes darted between Cyzicus and the woman. For a moment entertaining the idea that all of this had been an elaborate ruse to lure him into their castle where they could deliver him to Arke.

Do they think that I’m secretly strong like Nefkha first did, and did all this to trap me?

Cyzicus sighed loudly, a deep frown appearing on his face. “Very well.” His ring flashed, and something darted through the air faster than his eyes could follow, sinking through the roof, and presumably going outside. “Lead the way.”

She nodded solemnly, before turning on her heel, and walking out on foot, with Cyzicus following after her, leaving Luke alone in the room cradling his new sword.

Or maybe not.

Cyzicus poked his head through the door. “What are you waiting for? Come.” He waved his hand, gesturing for him to follow. “Why do you think we’re walking?”

“Right.” Luke mumbled, before walking after him.

If this is a trap, it’s an unnecessarily elaborate one. His mind flashed back to how effortlessly the giant had toyed with him, and how casually the man before him had destroyed it.

I’m a small fish who almost got eaten by a much bigger fish, who was then eaten by an even bigger fish, and on top of that, there's an even bigger fish that’s still trying to eat me… At least the Seed hasn’t said anything, that’s gotta mean something.

The Warrior led them down a hall and a single flight of stairs that opened up to reveal a large throne room. Kneeling at the foot of the chair, was a dirty homeless looking man dressed in rags, which were once upon a time blue robes. His hands and feet were encased in large steel manacles, and his black hair spilled over his face, and prevented Luke from seeing who it was.

A gust of air shook the room, and Cyzicus appeared on his throne.

“They tell me you’re the thief.”

“I didn’t steal anything!” He rasped, straining against his bonds.

“You stole that body. I can feel your corrupted mana from here. The stench of death lingers, as I’m sure you know.”

“Its soul had already departed. I stole nothing. I only took that, which was ownerless.”

“Hmm.” Cyzicus shrugged non-committedly. “What tier were you? For your soul to sustain a body with that level of damage and still persist, you must have been a Hero at the very least. Am I right?”

“I WAS A SAINT!” He roared. Splotches of blood sailed through the air and splattered on the pristine marble floors.

Okay, so this isn’t some elaborate trap. Good to know.

Cyzicus blinked in surprise. “Oh my. It seems as if I’m in the company of an esteemed figure. Forgive my impertinence.” He inclined his head. “I am quite curious what you’re doing here. If you were truly a Saint, you must be quite far from home.”

“Who I am and what I desire is of no concern to some petty Emperor of a tiny island. Release me, and I shall grant you one boon. It will take me time to expunge the tainted mana, but I –”

“Let me stop you there. We both know the fate of your kind. I cannot leave you to prey on my people, or any people for that matter. You should have let your soul seek rest in the Aether.”

“Then why have you imprisoned me?”

“I didn’t want to, but I suppose you’ll find out soon enough.” He sighed, resting his chin on his hand. “It will be in your best interest to relinquish your hold on that body, before you do though. There are greater forces at play than even I understand. Things will not be pleasant for you if you don’t.” He urged.

Threat detected.

Of course.

“Ah, there she is!” Cyzicus muttered under his breath, looking at the shackled figure with pity. An instant later, the doors flew open and Arke strode in.

Her eyes instantly locked on the kneeling figure, and then with a beat of her wings she was in front of him. Cocking her head to the side, she buried her arm into his chest, and then kicked the body away. Uncaring of the putrid blood soaking her hand.

An ethereal figure, vaguely in the shape of a man, squirmed in her grasp. Pulsating black and red lines snaked their way through its form, as Arke stared into its shadowy eyes.

That’s his soul. What happened to it? Why does it look like that?

“Are you the one?” She asked him.

No, that’s me.

He screamed silently in response. Bits and pieces of his soul began to flake off and evaporate into the air.

It’s dissolving. Luke thought morbidly. What’s her plan though? Even if he did have the Seed, what if it chooses someone else again. It chose me over her once, what makes her think now will be any different.

The silence in the room over the next few minutes was suffocating. Arke seemed content to wait for the man to perish. Cyzicus attempted to maintain a neutral expression, but Luke saw him fidget uncomfortably more than once. Clearly unsettled by what he was witnessing.

Eventually though, the soul withered away until Arke was left holding a small pebble sized fragment of it. Scoffing, she released it into the air, where it disappeared a moment later.

“He’s not the thief. Keep looking.”

“This is the sixth time.” Cyzicus drawled. “The sixth time you’ve erased a soul's existence to fuel your petty grudge. Even if you had left him as he was, his pathetic attempt at returning to life would have seen him dwindle away into a mindless animal, and he would have died. If he fed on the innocent, Lord Anubis himself would have reaped his soul. But,” he stood from his throne, and walked over to her, “not even he would have been cruel enough to erase him from existence. It’s forbi–”

Arke grinned, lifted her finger, and flicked. Cyzicus flew through the air and crashed through his throne.

“You’re an ant. Do not presume to lecture me on matters you know nothing about.”

Chuckling he rose to his feet, dusting his golden robes, he adjusted the crown on his head, and spit a globule of blood onto the ground.

“Perhaps that would be wise.” He stretched his hands to his side. “But I’m not an ant that you can step on, not without consequences at least.”

She scoffed. “The faith you have in your gods is amusing, but even they cannot protect you from me.”

“Our gods seem to be doing an okay job of it. I am still alive after all. You however are walking on thin ice. Olympus spared you once, but you know as well as I do, that they will not tolerate this crusade of yours for much longer. Your loyalty isn’t without question, and your sister can only beg for mercy so many times.”

“Tch.” She looked around the room, her eyes lingering on the red robed warrior before landing on Luke.

His heart drummed in anticipation, and his knees buckled under invisible pressure, bringing him to his knees.

This again?

“ENOUGH!” Cyzicus yelled. His ring flashed, and a bolt of lightning appeared at his side. The pressure suddenly eased. “I’ve told you that my subjects aren’t for you to play with.”

Her eyes traced the bolt of lighting apprehensively. “So you have been given teeth. How quaint.” A spear made of light appeared above her head, and she rose into the air. “You’re going to keep searching for that thief. No matter how long it takes.”

A blinding light surged through the room, and when it faded, Arke was gone, and the once pristine throne room was in ruins.

“My Lord!” The Warrior yelled flying to the charred remains of the throne.

“I’m fine.” Cyzicus said, pulling himself out of the rubble of his castle. “Luke,” He called out, “are you –”

“I’m good.” He climbed onto his feet, blinking spots out of his eyes as he did. “What’s that about?”

I know, but it would be weirder not to ask.

Before Cyzicus could answer though, another red robed Warrior flew into the room.

"My Lord! Your grandson was killed!"