Page 60 of Flamesworn
“When your father gets here,” Damian started, but never finished his sentence, because just then, they saw a light in the sky moving too fast to be a falling star. The figure drew closer and closer, but there was no sound of hooves behind it, and the sands beyond their camp remained still and quiet.
And then Ares was there with them once more, Vengeance descending from the sky to join them with something in their grasp.
No, not something, but someone.
It seemed Strategos Akti hadn’t come on a horse after all.
“Behold,” Ares intoned, shifting back to their mortal form, and waving a hand. “Vengeanace descends, and brings your father with them.”
Kataida turned to her father, speaking quickly. “Father. I’m sorry if I worried you, but I wasn’t a trai–”
She didn’t get anything else out before he was there, sweeping her into the tightest hug of her life, even tighter than the hug he’d given her after she’d fought off the cultist. Evander’s entire body was trembling, and there was a strange, dripping wetness on her scalp. She realized he was sobbing into her hair, and the only thing he was saying was her name, over and over.
“Kataida, Kataida–”
He named it that because he used to say it was all he ever wanted to see, a thunderstorm, since they’re so rare.
“Dad,” she managed, grabbing him and hugging him back fiercely, proudly, because she was proud of him, this man who was the gentlest soldier she’d ever known. “I’m fine. I had to tell you–”
Evander did not seem inclined to hear anything she was saying, his arms so tight that she could barely breathe. She sheda few tears of her own and her grip was nearly just as tight, and when he pulled back and stared down at her, she felt worry tug her heart along with the relief. He looked awful, his usually fastidiously neat appearance nearly as disheveled as hers, his dark eyes dull and shadowed, beard in need of a trim.
Evander took her face in his hands, which still weren’t steady. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, but I–”
Evander’s eyes went from dull to tear-bright again, just from her saying that. “What was that... thing that brought me here?”
“Ares,” she answered, wriggling back, wanting to tell him about Damian who wasright there.“Ares is changed now, I’m immortal, it’s– We’re maybe married, there’s a lot–”
“You’rewhat?” Evander blinked. “Kataida, slow down. Start at the beginning.”
Kataida, unable to get him to focus on anything that wasn’t her face, stepped sideways like some strange pantomime of a slow-dance and turned so her father was still looking at her, but with Damian now directly in his line of sight.
“I–” Evander’s arms dropped. He was staring past her shoulder, and his face was drained of color.
Damian Akti, lost and nearly broken, stepped out into the ring of light left by the dying fire. “Evander.”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you,” she tried, because they were juststaringat each other, unmoving, silent as the Thousand Soldiers. “That’s why I went with Menelaus. I saw him in a vision, the man they called the Beast. He’s –”
“Dami,” Evander said, without looking away from him.
The childhood nickname was what did it. Damian took two steps, then three, and as Ares came to stand beside her, Evander and Damian didn’t so much embrace as fall into each other.
Kataida leaned back against Ares, and together, they watched the brothers reunite. It made her eyes burn again and her fatherwas openly weeping, but she couldn’t help but notice that as tightly as Damian embraced Evander in return, he was still as a statue, and his eyes just as dry when they pulled away.
“Let’s leave them to it,” she whispered, pressing a kiss under Ares’ chin. “I have a few things to show you, too.”
The streets of the capital city were quiet when Ares alighted near the vacant training courts, shifting back to their mortal form the moment their feet touched the ground. They’d left Evander Kataida’s horse to take back to the city with Damian, though when they’d said goodbye, her father and his long-lost brother were mostly just staring at each other, starting and stopping sentences in a way that felt terribly awkward and a little sad. Kataida knew that with things being how they were, it would take some time for the two of them to reconnect. She hoped they would, but this war had changed everyone, especially her father.
He’d been reluctant to let her leave with Ares, though she could tell he was equally as reluctant to take his eyes off Damian, lest he vanish into the night like some summoned demon returning to the dark. It was probably only because of Damian’s reappearance that he’d even let Kataida out of his sight, but she was glad he’d eventually capitulated. It wouldn’t take them too long to return, and hopefully by then, they’d have a clear idea of where to proceed with the war now that the leadership for the opposition had been summarily dealt with.
Kataida thought about that as Ares took them to Axon. She could enjoy the memory of Menelaus’ death, even if her uncle couldn’t. Perhaps in time, she’d remember what Menelaus used to be to her, how completely she’d trusted him, and feel lesssatisfiedabout how his coup had ended.
Because of course, that’s what it’d been. Despite all his protestations about how her father’s leadership haddiminishedArktos, Menelaus had clearly been planning this for some time. It was a grab for power, nothing more, all his impassioned speeches about the Akti line and Atreus and Ares just convenient excuses to get what he wanted.
Two ribbon dragons drifted over to them as they walked toward her house. Axon was heavily guarded, and she wasn’t sure if she was considered a fugitive or deserter for leaving Stavros’ camp, but Ares flew faster than news traveled, so maybe not. Either way, she wasn’t eager for a confrontation and ducked behind a few houses, shooing the dragons away when they tried to wrap around her arms and her neck. Luckily, they abandoned her for a lit brazier and its unattended flames; she heard a soldier in the distance swear and the sound of footsteps as they ran to re-light the fires. The momentary darkness allowed her and Ares to slip unnoticed to her small house, which was unlocked and dark inside, vaguely musty. She felt like an entirely different person than the Kataida who’d last slept under this roof.
Ares followed her as she moved around the house, ignoring the lamps, since she knew her house well enough to move around easily in the darkness. She went directly to the upstairs bathing room, where she stripped her filthy uniform at last and stood under the rainbox, pulling the chain and sighing in pleasure as water spilled from the rooftop cistern through the slats, washing the grit and blood and sweat from her.
