(PS: Please support me on patreon there 135+ chapters there and there also my new GoT: The True Dragon Fanfiction of Game of Thrones
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As the four walked back toward Pagai Village, the road was thick with silence—a silence far heavier than the noise of the recent battle. Lukas, ever the optimist, tried twice to lighten the mood. Once with a joke about Alexios's bruised knuckles, and another with a comment about how surprised the merchant would be to see them back so soon. Both attempts fell flat.
Seeing their pained expressions, Lukas ultimately failed and exchanged a look with Atlas, gesturing toward the siblings with a helpless shrug. Atlas, walking beside him, returned the gesture with a small, quiet shake of his head. Let it pass for a moment, his look conveyed. We will talk about this when we get some rest.
Time passed.
When the group finally settled their immediate affairs, the Adrestia was already sailing the calm night seas, leaving the shores of Megaris far behind.
The night sea was calm. The Adrestia cut gently through the dark waters, her wooden hull creaking softly with each slow wave. Above, the sky was wide and endless, black velvet scattered with countless, shimmering stars. The wind was light, just enough to keep the sails breathing. Megaris was already far behind them, a dark smudge on the horizon. And yet… its emotional weight still clung to every heart on deck.
Kassandra leaned against the railing at the bow, staring out at the moonlit water. Her reflection wavered with each ripple—distorted, uncertain. Her hands rested on the rail, knuckles pale.
Atlas stood a few steps away at first, giving her space to process the day. After a long silence, he finally spoke.
"You didn't kill him."
Kassandra didn't look at him. "No," she answered quietly, her voice flat.
Atlas nodded once. "You chose restraint over vengeance. That's not easy, especially after everything."
Kassandra let a faint, bitter smile touched her lips. "It wasn't restraint. I just… didn't want to become the monster he forced us to be."
Atlas stepped closer, resting his elbows on the railing beside her. "You already aren't." He watched the black water churn past the hull. "You could have threw your own father to the edge of death and yet you pulled him back. That takes monumental control."
Kassandra exhaled slowly, the tension finally easing from her shoulders. The furious fire in her eyes from the mountaintop was gone, replaced now with something heavier and more confused.
"He wasn't even my real father," she said, the realization still raw. "And yet… finding out everything still hurts the same."
Atlas glanced at her. "Blood doesn't decide who shapes you. Pain does. And choice." He looked out at the stars. "He taught you duty, but duty is cold. You chose compassion for your brother over duty to the spear. That choice shapes you more than any lineage."
She turned to look at him at last, her curiosity momentarily overriding her grief. "And what about you, Atlas? What shapes you?"
For a moment, he looked lost in thought. "Too many things," he answered honestly, a slight smile playing on his lips. "But, if I had to choose one… for me, it would be my Family."
They stood in silence again, the vastness of the sea filling the space between words.
Finally, Kassandra said, "Thank you. For staying out of it back there."
Atlas gave a quiet chuckle. "Trust me. That was the hardest fight I've avoided in a long time. It was not my place to interfere."
For the first time since the mountain, she let out a small, genuine laugh.
Near the Mast, Alexios sat on a coil of rope, staring at his hands like they held the answers to everything. Lukas stood nearby, sharpening the edge of his hammer with slow, steady strokes.
"You okay?" Lukas asked without looking up, his focus entirely on the blade.
Alexios scoffed. "Define 'okay.' I just punched my father, got lectured by my sister, and found out she might not even be related to us by blood."
Lukas hummed, still working. "Yeah. Rough day, then."
Alexios glanced sideways at him. "You're way too calm about this. Your family life was complicated enough."
Lukas shrugged. "I grew up knowing who my family was. And I learned something important."
Alexios raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Family isn't who makes you. It's who stays."
Alexios went quiet, considering that. After a moment, he muttered, "That Nikolaos was going to leave again… Just like before. Abandoning Stentor like he abandoned us."
Lukas stopped sharpening, resting the hammer head on the deck. "He didn't," Lukas said firmly. "Not this time. You stopped him." He looked directly at Alexios. "You told him the truth he didn't want to hear. That took more courage than any sword swing, Alexios. You showed him the only true honor is standing by your own."
Alexios swallowed hard. "…I was shaking."
"That's how you know it mattered," Lukas replied.
For a long moment, neither spoke, just the sound of the waves. Then Alexios gave a tired, faint smile. "You're getting too wise lately, Lukas. It's unsettling."
Lukas smirked. "Hanging around Atlas does that to you."
At the Helm, Barnabas stood guiding the Adrestia through the gentle night waves. His coat fluttered softly in the light wind. He glanced back at the ship—at the siblings, the warriors, the strange group fate had bound together.
"Alive… warm… and still floating," he muttered with satisfaction. "A fine ending to a terrible day."
Above him, the stars shimmered like silent witnesses. He tipped his head back and sighed contentedly. "The sea never judges. She just carries you forward."
On the Deck, slowly, one by one, they drifted closer together at the center of the ship—not by command, not by need, but by instinct. The quiet strength of their shared journey was pulling them back into their familiar orbit.
No one spoke at first. The Adrestia sailed onward, leaving Sparta behind—not erased, not forgiven—but no longer in control of their lives.
Kassandra broke the silence.
"So… where to now?" she asked, looking at the compass mounted near the mast.
Barnabas smiled from the helm. "Wherever the wind is kind, and the trouble is interesting."
Alexios snorted. "That sounds like a terrible plan, Barnabas."
Atlas chuckled. "But we still need to go to Phokis. We still need to find the meeting place of the members of the Cult of Kosmos. That is the first step in finding Myrrine."
Lukas rested his heavy hammer on his shoulder. "As long as it's not another cliff, I'm in."
Above them, the stars watched as the ship sailed forward—carrying wounds, questions, anger, hope… and a new future slowly forming between the waves. Megaris was behind them. The world was ahead.
(PS: Please support me on patreon there 135+ chapters there and there also my new GoT: The True Dragon Fanfiction of Game of Thrones
https://patreon.com/BX_XDS)