Aster had begun walking before Cyrus had the opportunity to respond. The boy did as he was told and followed the Stygian lord. He looked over to see Kyron was already fast asleep. The ease in which he was able to doze off shocked the young Stygian. They truly were all lazy in their own ways. Their days spent doing absolutely nothing.

As Cyrus followed Aster, no words were exchanged between the two Stygians. Instead they elected to walk in silence. The part of the palace they now traversed was one Cyrus had not had the pleasure of learning about. Like Castle Xerxes the winding corridors of what the boy referred to as Xenon's palace, was uniformly aligned. The open spaces breathed life into the cold walls and pillars that were a common appearance throughout the home. This part of the structure was older, there was power here. In the short time that Cyrus had been exposed to many mystical things he had started to notice it more clearly. He was not aware of it but he was learning to feel it.

They came across many nobles and lords, both Stygian and human, all who bowed graciously at them and carried on their way. They looked at Cyrus with curious expressions and the boy embarrassed at the attention sought to find comfort in the shadow of the Stygian he followed. Many of them were merchants like Xenon. They wore extravagant clothes and jewelry that shined brightly in the morning sun. In comparison Aster looked plain; as plain as a Stygian noble could look.

Cyrus took the time to study the man he now followed. The simplicity of his appearance lent itself to the welcoming nature he had. The soft whites of his clothes matched the softness of his face. Despite knowing the man was as old as Antares, perhaps a little older. He too had a boyish look to him. The perpetual smile that adorned his face reminded him of Loukas in many ways. For the first time Cyrus missed his new found little ward-brother. Aster elected to have his short hair braided. Each of the individual braids were tied behind his head, except for two locks that fell on either side of his face. These ones had golden bands tied into them similar to the ones worn by Casspien. Even still, despite the friendliness of his demeanor, Cyrus felt the warning signs of danger emanating from him. Like heat from an open flame.

As they rounded the last corner they came across a different pavilion. This one was covered by a pond on both sides. Small foliage and flowers littered the surrounding area. The aquatic life swam with purpose and vibrancy. The light from the sun above had slowly made its way and illuminated the area with natural light. The middle of the pond was covered by a wide stone platform, this was a place people would come and spend their time enjoying the serenity of the day without the added disturbance of prying eyes. To Cyrus it looked like the many paintings that were found in Castle Xerxes of Stygian nobles and royals from times past, enjoying themselves and the company of others. He knew Lady Alena and Ciri would both like a place like this.

"What do you think?" Aster asked triumphantly.

"It's beautiful," is all Cyrus could muster.

Aster agreed, glad the boy had an appreciation for the beauty of things.

He motioned for him to meet him at the center of the pond. "Come along there is something I want to find out."

Cyrus curiously followed him, unsure of what it was he wanted.

Aster stretched and loosened his joints, familiarizing himself with the weight of his body after such a hefty meal. He so desperately wanted to sleep but curiosity had gotten the better of him. He knew he would not sleep well without confirming his suspicions on Cyrus.

"All right," Aster finished the last of his stretches. "Hit me."

Cyrus looked at him confused.

"I want you to hit me with everything you have." Aster clarified, perhaps the boy is also slow? He thought.

Cyrus shook his head, "I understood but why my lord?"

Aster waved his hand in the air, "You do not have to call me lord, Aster is fine. And as for why…" Lord Aster thought for a moment, upon settling on a reason he found acceptable. "Call it curiosity."

Cyrus did not find the reason acceptable. He battled within himself if it was truly okay to hit a Lord of War. Of the little stories he knew, their grandeur was still viewed as divine by many.

Aster sighed, "If you do not hit me with everything you have before I count to three. I will hit you with everything I have." He beamed with a smile. "And it will make me sad to ruin this wonderful area... I guess you would die I suppose." he declared almost as an after-thought.

Cyrus nervously took a step back, "Please wait a moment Lord Aster-"

Aster cracked his neck, "I thought I said not to call me a lord? One."

"Wait, please just wait Aster!" Cyrus started panicking his mind racing.

Despite his calm demeanor and pleasant smile, Cyrus knew the Stygian before him was not the kind of man to make empty threats. If nothing else about him could tell Cyrus he was serious. His eyes gave it away, that same warm smile that he had slowly become used to, did nothing to hide the alertness and seriousness in Aster's eyes. If Cyrus did not do what he was asked in the next two seconds he would cease to exist completely.

Aster assumed a fighting stance and the pond beside them rippled, "Two."

"Okay! I will! I will do it!" Cyrus yelled, moving towards the man who just threatened him.

The Lord of War's pleasant demeanor returned and he relaxed.

Cyrus was a mere feet or two away from the man. He slowed his breathing and calmed himself down. He had thought Aster was only going to show him around, show him other places within the palace he could spend time exploring to pass the days while Xenon ignored him. But to be so easily and quickly threatened, he was flustered. More so than he had been in some time.

He clenched his right fist and unclenched it again, he repeated the process several times. He recalled the last time he had thrown a punch. It was many weeks ago, back on the day his father died. He had almost forgotten about that night and what came of it. How he was left battered and bruised by those who had cornered and assaulted him. Older lost boys like himself, they had always mocked him and he allowed them to because he was scared of them. However that night after all he had experienced with losing his father, he no longer would allow anyone to intimidate him again.

Here weeks later and just like those boys he was being pushed around, first by Xenon with his indifference towards him and now with Aster who threatened him into action. Anger bubbled within Cyrus at the weakness he had shown. Antares was no longer by his side and now he reverted back to the scared little boy that he was when he first met him. He hated how weak he was. He looked up at Aster who towered over him, his arms to the side as he waited for the blow. The look in his eyes of a man who saw him as no different than the fishes that swam around in the pond next to them. No more, he thought. No more.

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With all his might, Cyrus winded up a punch and put everything he had into it. All of his doubts, his weaknesses and his emotions. This punch would contain the conviction of his beliefs and the power he so desired in the pursuit of strength. With that, he slammed his right fist into Aster's mid region. And nothing happened. Pain shot through his wrist straight up towards his shoulder. He shuddered at the resistance he felt coming into contact with Aster's body. It was as though he struck the very ground itself. He fell to his knees holding his hand that now echoed with pain. Cyrus fought back tears.

Aster was greatly underwhelmed. This is who Antares has chosen? The thought ran its way through his mind. Ever since he had laid eyes on the boy he was curious at the idea that Antares could find someone worth training, especially given everything that he currently endured. Perhaps the boy had some kind of hidden talent; that he was far stronger than he looked? A budding monster that had yet to develop its fangs and claws. But now after experiencing the boy's strongest punch, to say Aster found it lacking would be putting it mildly—he held back a natural disgust at the sight of him. There was no power behind the punch, there was no mana nor did the boy even take care to wrap his fist in his own Will before throwing such an attack. By all accounts it was a punch thrown by a common human. If there was anything noteworthy, Aster found it impressive the boy's hand did not shatter instantly upon making contact with his body. At least he was somewhat durable.

Aster sighed and squatted next to the child. He patted him on the head, "It is alright show me your hand."

Cyrus sniffled and slowly moved his right hand over.

The Stygian lord studied it. It was only a slight sprain, nothing was broken, nor was the skin cut in any place. The boy had been raised by a human parent, so Aster had half expected the Stygian blood within him still remained dormant and he was right. But he was surprised to find out after all the time he had spent with Antares he still had not awakened the most basic of their abilities. Despite the lackluster showing the boy was truly ordinary, but Aster simply could not shake a feeling he had about him.

"Do not fear nothing is broken." Aster shot him a warm smile, one Cyrus did not return.

The boy gingerly took his hand back and sat by the pond. Aster took his lead and sat next to him.

"Was this my trial?" Cyrus finally managed to work up the courage to ask after the tears had cleared from his eyes. Unsure if he wanted to know the truth.

"Fortunately no, little one. I was just curious about you."

The king's ward was both relieved and disappointed at the remark but he still turned to the Lord of War. "Why Antares would choose me as an apprentice?"

Aster appreciated the boy being inquisitive. He nodded agreeingly.

Cyrus wiped the tears from his eyes with his left hand, "My father before he died wrote a letter to King Antares. I guess in the letter he asked for a favor, and Antares is honoring it."

"All it took was a letter for the King of the Stygians to take you in?" Aster did not hide his growing curiosity. He leaned back admiring the sun on his face. "Your father must have been an important Stygian," he thought.

Cyrus shook his head, "My father was human. It was my mother who was a Stygian."

Aster turned to him now his attention focused, "Really? How does she know Antares?" the Stygian lord studied the boy's face to see if he could see any similarities to Antares.

"Antares is not my father!" Cyrus grumbled looking away. "...I don't know how he knows my mother. My father never spoke about it, and Antares hasn't mentioned it. But…"

"But I assume you have an idea?"

There was a long pause, Aster offered Cyrus the courtesy to speak when he felt comfortable.

"I think Antares… killed my mother a long time ago. He came to tell my father himself and I don't remember the conversation they had but I guess he left my father a piece of his royal seal. And in the years as he got sicker he wrote to him and I was meant to deliver the letter when he died… to Antares himself."

It was the first time that Cyrus had said aloud the thoughts that had swam around in his head for years. There was a weight that was lifted off his shoulders, to finally acknowledge what he believed his connection was with Antares. He had known it all hindered on the letter his father wrote, all the good in his life that had happened since, meeting Lady Alena, Ciri, Guinevere, Loukas and Samara too. It was all because of his father and Antares honoring the contents of the letter. For that he would be always grateful to the King of Iliad.

"Seeking to learn from the man who slaughtered your mother?" the question rang out across the empty pavilion and rippled through the water. "Most people would call you mad. Others would say you wish to collect a blood payment."

Cyrus laughed, and for the first time it caught Aster by surprise.

"That woman is no more my mother than any of the women that entertain Xenon. The only difference is that she can claim she birthed me—nothing more. I do not have a mother."

Cyrus recalled the only memory he had of Kleio Xerxes, and that was of her back turned leaving him and his father. Before she had left she turned to look at him once again. Her long and wild hair like that of the paintings of Barranagan Xerxes. The coldness of her gaze towards him, there was no motherly love to be found in it. They were the eyes of a stranger. But just before she turned away—Cyrus always debated if this was a memory, or his own wishful thinking—the softest hints of love.

"I was raised by my father," he repeated the words he had told himself so many times. "And by Her."

Before Aster could ask who the woman Cyrus was referring to, a servant promptly arrived. In her fear and cautiousness she approached the two Stygians. She bowed deeply towards them both and then presented Aster with a journal. The lord thanked her which made her blush and she retreated back to the palace with a noticeable excited step.

"What's that?" Cyrus asked.

Aster handed it to him, "This is a journal and it is for you."

Cyrus took the worn book from him. Its leather strapped looked ancient as though they would snap with ease. The brown covering was faded and any and all symbols and designs had almost been washed away completely. The only thing that could be made out was the skull and serpent that seemed to be intertwined together. The gold grooves marking them shone as the sun was overhead. He undid the leather bindings and opened the journal. There was an engraving on the inside of the cover. The words were written in the Stygian tongue but Cyrus did not know what they meant, his lessons on the old language had progressed quite slowly so he was at a loss. He moved on to the next page and it was blank. He flipped through several pages and they were all empty.

"From what the servants have told me, you have spent your time exploring the castle and drawing what you see." Aster laughed at the embarrassed expression the boy showed. "Well it must be taxing carrying so many loose papers everywhere. Why not have a journal you can always draw in?"

Cyrus did not know what to say, he looked up at Aster with tears welling in his eyes.

Aster raised a hand, "Oh please enough of the tears! It is a simple gesture, at least you can busy yourself while you wait on Xenon." The man felt some guilt for Xenon's lack of agency.

Cyrus cleared what tears he had in his eyes and nodded agreeingly, "Thank you Lo- I mean Aster. This is really nice."

Aster basked in the compliment and rose. He yawned, the sun was already fully out and he was ready to go to sleep. As he walked away he remembered a thought he wished to share with the boy.

"And Cyrus?" he called out.

Cyrus had already begun scribbling in the journal when he turned to look up at him with a bright expression.

"Do not worry about waiting too much longer." He reassured him, "I am sure after the celebrations tonight you will see Xenon in a more agreeable mood and then you will have his attention."

The thought nearly slipped his mind while they were in the previous pavilion. Xenon had mentioned about a celebration happening tonight but he was too scared to say anything at the moment . He was curious what kind of festivities were going to happen.

Aster read the question on his face and smiled, "No point in spoiling the surprise for you too, a servant will come fetch you when it is time. Make sure you wear your best clothes." He waved teasingly as he left.

With that he was off, leaving Cyrus to draw to his heart's content, enamored with the inspiration all around him.

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