Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The ocean waves raged as they crashed up against the cliffside, the sprinkles of white from the reach of the blue water dusting the rock several meters below a narrow dirt road. It winded slowly around the side of the mountain, the last place any inexperienced traveler with a skittish horse wanted to be found.

Three horses followed the overgrown trail, moving at a snail’s pace, but far safer than sorry, each of their riders made sure to allow their firm hands to guide the horses, not the rising fear of the animals. One of the two men reached down to pat the horse’s side as he spoke reassuringly, gentler than the woman who rode in front of him. Her hands were digging into the white horse’s mane. 

She leaned forwards and rested her head on the same mane, trying to control her breathing. A tuft of odd blue-white hair cascaded down into her eyes and she shuddered, tucking the unruly locks back beneath the hood of fabric wrapped over her head. With her face buried in the grey mane of the horse, only she knew how much fear was scribbled across her features.

The other two men rode behind her, one after the other in a narrow single file line. When the first of them looked back at the large muscular scowling one of the trio, he sighed. “Give it up, Zeb. There’s nothing we can do for them now.”

On the back of his horse with a terrible scowl, Zeb, a tanned man with a scraggly beard, glared at his friend.“We could have helped them, Cassian. They were worth helping.” 

Cassian shook his head, and did not seem intimidated by the much larger and older man who had the physical strength to snap Cassian like a twig. “Not at the expense of our own lives. Zeb,” Cassian said firmly. “They are out there hunting. They ’re looking for us.”

“It doesn’t mean we don’t do the right thing, Cassian.” Zeb sighed, shaking his head. He would have said more, too, if not for their companion.

“Both of you,” the woman cut in. “Shut up, or I’ll throw you off this cliff.”

Cassian snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. Just try not to fall off when you finally puke.” 

With a miserable gagging sound, Alethea shook her head and swallowed the burning acid creeping up her throat. She coughed once and turned around to glare at Cassian. “Shut it, you.”

Whatever Cassian was going to say next was lost at the sound of a terrible crack and boom from above. All three of them looked up, lifting their hands to see past the light of the sun that had just begun to make its way down. 

“What is that?” Cassian asked.  “A storm?”

Alethea shook her head and pointed up at the fluffy white clusters above their heads. “Can’t be. None of those clouds look anything like a storm cloud.”

Zeb squinted, his improved eyesight over his other two companions allowing him to actually make out the source of the sound. Not lightning, but fire. Fire was falling from the sky. 

“It looks like something is falling.”

“One of the Olympians?” Alethea asked, eyes widening in alarm. Cassian followed suit, his horrified expression appearing in an instant. 

“No, not one of the Olympians. It looks like…” Zeb trailed off. “I don’t know what it looks like, because I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life.”

Alethea scoffed, and tried her hardest to see for herself, but to her, the sun was blinding. She flinched, and squeezed her eyes closed. “I can’t see it.”

Zeb shook his head. “Well, whatever it is, it’s headed for the water.” 

“The water?” Cassian asked. “Well, then we have to go see what it is. Poseidon has enough on his plate without us adding to his worries.”

“Let Poseidon handle this one, Cassian. You don’t have to go running to daddy every time you think you might earn a prize.”

When the sky cracked and the fire shot out from the bizarre cluster of metal and heat, tearing through the orange-tinted blue, the other two flinched and held up their eyes, but Zeb’s gaze fixed itself on a silhouette. A near imperceptible thing, but had the makings of a person.

“There’s someone in there,” Zeb shouted, kicking his horse’s flanks and barreling down the trail with little regard for his two companions.

“Zeb- what’re you-? Wait!” Cassian shouted, both he and Alethea trying to settle their horses enough to not fall off the cliff, nor lose sight of their friend. “Zeb, wait!”

Zeb did not listen, and instead leaned forwards as the horse galloped towards the flaming wreck in the sky, his mind fixated on one simple thing: the person who’d come down from the heavens to touch the Earth. 

“Zeb!” Alethea shouted, but Zeb paid her no mind. He was determined to find the answers to his questions, questions he didn’t even realize he had, or would form in the days to come. 

The steady hoofbeats of the horse on the hillside below as Zeb guided the stallion down the zig-zag path and towards the beach. Blood rushed in his ears, but he paid it no mind, watching the falling husk offer another louder boom just over the ocean’s surface.

A wave rose up and swallowed the bizarre thing whole, and the falling metal disappeared under the darkening sea’s surface.

“Zeb, wait!” Alethea shouted. 

He considered it, he truly did, but the temptation, for whatever reason, was too great for Zeb to resist. Just as Alethea and Cassian reached the beach behind him, he pressed his horse onwards, to get as close to the crash site as possible. Without a care in the world, he slowed his horse and leapt off its back before either of them stopped, stripping his armor, weapons and shoes as he ran down the rock and grass covered island’s edge into the sand. 

“Garazeb, what are you doing?” Alethea demanded, just in time to watch him disappear into the water. Either he couldn’t or wouldn’t be able to hear over the waves. 

Cassian dismounted and followed suit. He slipped out of the armor and his own weapons, but Alethea reached out a hand and grasped his shoulder before Cassian removed his sandals. 

“Will either of you just wait for a moment?” Alethea demanded, white and blue hair in its braids around her face and coming loose. “Everyone on Kos and every nearby island saw that crash, whatever it was. We do not need to be drawing any more attention to ourselves than we already have, Cassian!” 

Cassian shook his head and pulled off his sandals, brandishing one of them as threateningly as one was capable of waving around a fraying in-need-of-replacing sandal. “There’s nothing we can do about it at this point. Zeb is already out there. If you don’t want him to die because he can’t swim like I can, then you can try and stop me from following, but that is your choice, Alethea!”

When she said nothing, Cassian dropped the shoes in his hands and ran after Zeb, moving in some bizarre way faster the moment he leapt into the sea than he did while on the ground. When they both disappeared under the water, Alethea felt her heart sink as surely as they did to the bottom of the ocean. 

Please be safe. She prayed silently. Please don’t let me lose them now.

The time it took for her two companions to return to the surface felt longer than it was. She knew that logically, of course Cassian could handle himself, and handle Zeb if he had to, but of course, of course , she worried. 

They’re all I have left, please don’t take them, too.

The beach was quiet, but warm despite the cool water that danced at their ankles. The two young men dragged a third unconscious one from the Greek sea in just their tunics, while he sported a bizarre bright orange head to toe covering. 

Alethea stood watch over the two warriors’ armor was discarded some ways away from where the ebb and flow of the waves could reach it. Her sword twisted in her grasp, a senseless swing to occupy her usually battle-ready hands, but her focus was on the odd trio emerging from the water. 

Underneath her feet, the crushed island grass and sand that wandered up the coastline past the rest of the beach twisted to give way with each step. Not even the three horses tethered only a short distance away could explain the sheer stampede of sandal prints where she’d stood.

Alethea looked down at them and rolled her eyes, walking down the rocky grasses to stand a little closer. “Is he dead?” she shouted.

“Can’t tell!” Zeb shouted. His scarred arms reached out to pull the helmet off of his blond head, and toss the odd white thing up to where she was standing. “He hit his head pretty hard, though, Alethea.”

Her smile faded just as soon as her fingertips touched the edges of the helmet, twisting it up so the visor looked up and poured an orange nothingness into Alethea’s eyes. One thumb brushed over the jagged symbol and she shuddered. 

“I saw that,” Alethea said,  tossing the hemet back down to Cassian. He dropped the helmet in the sand and looked back at Zeb and the other man just in time to not notice Alethea fiddling with the fraying 

Cassian pointed where four odd metal wings were barely visible beneath the water’s rippling waves. “He crashed that thing into the sea.”

“I saw that, too.” She rolled her eyes. “I have these things called eyes, Cassian!”

Cassian ignored her and instead turned to look between Zeb and the man they’d rescued.

His head, tilted into the grain of the beach had picked up a layer of thinly lined sand in his dark, sopping wet hair and along the side of his face resting on the ground. “Who is he?” Tanned skin fingers brushed against the odd freckles on the pale face in front of Zeb.

“Don’t know.” Cassian shrugged. “Why don’t you ask him? He’s waking up.”

With a painful groan and one black gloved-hand reaching up to cover his eyes, he grimaced. “Ow.”

“He says his name is Ow.” Cassian shouted.

Alethea scoffed. “Very funny. Now ask him what his name really is!”

“Well, why don’t you do it?”

“I’m asking you to do it!” 

The two bickered in the background while Zeb took the blond man’s free hand to lift the incredibly pale man they had rescued from the sea. His broad shoulders blocked out the sunlight as Zeb leaned over the man laying on the beach. “Are you alright?” 

“I- I’m fine. Just,” the man in head to toe orange winced. “In pain.”

Zeb laughed. “Well, I’d say. What’s your name?”

“Uh- Alexsandr, but most call me Kallus,” Kallus said, with a groan of pain. 

Zeb perked up and his smile widened. “Alexsandr? Really? So, you are a warrior?”

“Yes, actually.” Kallus squinted as hard as he could, and though the sun was behind his rescuer’s head, Kallus couldn’t quite make out his face. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

“No,” Zeb rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “You don’t. My name is Garazeb, though most call me Zeb. It’s nice to finally meet you, Alexsandr. You gave us quite a scare when you… Well, when you came in from the sky like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“The sky-? Oh, no.” Kallus sat up and searched the open waters for the strange metal husk Zeb and Cassian had pulled him out of. “The X-wing. Oh, kriff. That’s not good.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Zeb asked,

Kallus pushed himself onto his feet, but heaved forwards into the oncoming wave on his hands and knees instead of taking a single step forwards. “It’ll be completely fried, I have to get it out of there before there’s any more damage..”

“Woah, woah! Easy, there, Alexsandr,” Zeb said, wrapping an arm around Kallus to help him rise to his feet. “I’ll have Cassian get it out.”

Kallus blinked slowly. “Who’s Cassian?” 

“The one Alethea was yelling at,” Zeb said, as if his simple statement explained everything. It, much to Kallus’s misfortune, did not.

Kallus offered a choked cough. “Who’s Alethea?”

“The one with two swords and an attitude,” Cassian said. “With the blue and white hair.” 

Turning over his shoulder, Kallus’s baffled expression did wonders for Zeb and Cassian’s sense of humor.  “But he doesn’t know how to fly it. He’s not a pilot, is he?”

“Fly it?” Cassian barked a laugh. “I don’t think you can fly it either. Maybe more like crash it, but hey, whatever tickles your fancy. I’m not going to try and fly it, though, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Kallus shook his head, and grimaced even braced against Zeb’s arm. “I’m not.” 

“Watch this,” Zeb grinned. “My friend here will not fly your metal death contraption.”

“Then how is he going to get it out of the water?”

“The answer, Alexsandr, is in the question.” Zeb’s mischievous eyes glimmered. “The water.” 

Kallus rolled his eyes, and looked between the trio of warriors with an amused uplift of his features. “Alright then. If you’re not going to tell me the truth, surprise me.”

“Don’t show off too much, Cassian,” Alethea said, almost as if scolding a child who repeatedly misbehaved. “Most mortals faint when you use your powers.”

Cassian scoffed. “He asked for it.”

What it was Alexsandr asked for had not been what he expected. Of course he reasoned, the chances of a force-sensitive on what was so obviously a primitive planet was not unreasonable. The Empire didn’t care much for the unknown regions, nor the primitive peoples who lived in them. 

As far out as he was, Kallus suspected the Jedi had little to no influence, and if he was about to witness another untrained wielder of the cosmic force amaze him, he would do so with as much grace and composition as he had for years beforehand.

What he did not expect was Cassian to reach out one hand and for the water to yield. It was different from the all encompassing use of energy to push the water away, or pull the star fighter out of the sea. In many ways, he couldn’t quite understand it beyond the answer Garazeb had given him. It was the water. 

The water, as if it lived and breathed as much as any of them on the shore, roared as it swept past the scorched X-wing. Its nose was pulled from the sea and grasped by the water in such a way Alexsandr would have sworn he saw the ripples of a hand offering out the ship to them. The cusps of waves and their white ridges flying into the air as sure as the X-wing rose with the tide. 

It made its way onto the beach as if carried by the gentle shudder of a coastline tickled by the pull of gravity and water under their toes, and was deposited promptly on the shoreline far beyond the reach of any of the other nimble waves. The last of the water fled from underneath the landing gear and inside the engines. 

Pieces of seaweed were plucked by the overarching reach of the wave, held in the air by a force beyond one of the Jedi, and even a few stray fish swam happily out of the cockpit as the water they rested in rushed upwards to merge with the sea stretched above the X-wing.

Alexsandr’s jaw dropped, and he watched as all the remnants of the sea sank back into the water, leaving the star fighter in pristine condition. 

“Karabast.”

Zeb’s eyes however, were not on the x-wing emerging from the water, but rather the gaping man on the beach, in the craziest head to toe orange and sun-catching hair.

Chapter Text

Alethea slinked down the coastline onto the sandy beach and patted Zeb on the shoulder, muttering something under her breath. He sighed, but the look on Kallus’s face didn’t seem to be changing any time soon. Zeb made his way back up the hillside, all the water evaporating from his body and tunic in a thick cluster of steam. He made it back to the where Alethea had been standing watch and started digging through the weapons and armor.

Pulling on his worn but steady shoes, Zeb began fixing pieces of his armor to his body without looking, his eyes still fixed on Kallus’s back. The practiced motion of putting his armor and weapons back on was familiar, but so was the dumbstruck look on Kallus’s face as he stared at the X-wing on the beach. 

“How? How did you do that?” Kallus gaped.

“Zeb told you, Alexsandr,” Cassian laughed. “It’s the water.”

“Normal water doesn’t do that. Are you a Jedi?”

Cassian shrugged. “I’m going with no, since I don’t even know what that is.”

“But water doesn’t just do that.”

“It does if you’re the son of the sea god,” Alethea chimed in. 

“A sea god? But isn’t that just superstition?”

“You’ve never heard of Poseidon, god of the seas?”

Kallus flinched. “No? But I don’t put much stock in those kinds of stories.”

Cassian scoffed, and pointed out into the water where Kallus had originally crashed. “You watched me pull your metal husk from the sea. Didn’t you?”

“Where I come from it’s an ancient power, but that doesn’t mean you’re the child of a god. Of the sea, or otherwise.” Kallus said.

“Well, my ancient power is domain over the seas and the waters because of my heritage.”

“Alright, alright,” Kallus raised his hands in surrender. “Thank you, child of the sea god for getting my starfighter out of the water.”

The lift of his eyebrow didn’t quite leave Kallus with the impression he’d convinced Cassian.

Cassian rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything else about it. Instead, with a near mischievous glint in his eyes, Cassian ilted his head when he saw the red trickle down past Kallus’s sleeve. One hand flew out to grasp Kallus’s wrist and he pulled the man closer, tearing the orange sleeve open and staring in shock. “You’re bleeding. How?”

“Something inside the cockpit broke. I nicked my arm I suppose.”

“In the crash?”

“Perhaps,” Kallus shrugged. “Does it truly matter?”

Cassian shook his head. “No, I guess not. Here, come on.”

“Where?” Kallus asked, pulling back his arm and giving Cassian an incredulous look.

“The water. Come on,”

“The water? The water you just pulled my fighter and I out of?”

“Come on,”

“I don’t believe I want to go in the water with you, Cassian.”

“Just, stand right here,” Cassian instructed, reaching out one hand to the water and the other back for Kallus’s arm. 

“I don’t think-” an undignified squeak escaped Kallus as the water snaked up Cassian’s arm and across his neck to the other arm, which was clutching Kallus with a death grip.

It wound its way around his forearm and the blood dissolved before his eyes as the coat of the sea ran up the rest of his arm. His jagged cut disappeared, and so did the water, leaving Kallus with a torn jumpsuit and no injury.

It had completely vanished.

Kallus gaped. “How did you-? The water? Truly?”

“Well, and a little bit of me, too,” Cassian said with a wink. Knowing Kallus wouldn’t miss him, he shook his head at the stunned expression the fighter pilot was wearing and made his way off the beach and out of the water.

Cassian walked back up the path with a wave over his shoulder to a baffled Kallus. Although he’d been soaking wet, in mere seconds his tunic was as crisp and dry as Alethea’s. He rolled his eyes at Zeb’s distracted fumbling, and his tanned hands began refastening Zeb’s armor back onto his body. Following Zeb’s gaze and putting two and two together, Cassian patted his shoulder. It jolted Zeb out of whatever trance he was in. 

“I don’t blame you,” Cassian laughed. “He is pretty.”

“What?”

“Alexsandr,” Cassian said lowly. “He’s not bad to look at.”

“Oh and what would you know?”

“I know you’re making that face at him like he’s the only other man in the world,”

“Oh, shut up,” Zeb shoved Cassian’s arm and scowled. 

When Alethea made sure Cassian hadn’t traumatized Kallus, she also returned to where their things were sitting. “His ship is in need of repairs.”

Cassian rolled his eyes and looked at Alethea with every bit of sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Is it now? What’re we going to do about it?”

She scoffed. “I suggest we tell him to find another one.”

“What?” Zeb said, looking up at Alethea from where he was adjusting the last of his armor’s straps. “Why?”

Alethea glared at Zeb. “You know why.”

“It’s not like those kinds of ships are common around here, Alethea,” Cassian said pointedly. “Where is he going to get another one?”

“The forges,” Zeb said, perking up at the idea that wandered into his mind. “If anyone can help him, it’s those metalworkers.”

Alethea scoffed, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “They’re insane.”

“They’re brilliant,” Cassian corrected. “That’s not a bad plan, Zeb.” 

Zeb nodded, and nodded his head once in Kallus’s direction.  “So, we head out as soon as he agrees?”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Alethea held up her hands and looked between Zeb and Cassian with wide eyes. “I was thinking more along the lines of giving him some directions, maybe a few pointers on how not to get killed or stand out.”

“What? How is he possibly going to find the forges without us?” Cassian asked, peering over at the bizarre pale man.

Alethea sighed, the steady rise and fall of her shoulders misleading enough, if Cassian didn’t know better, he’d have said she felt relaxed, though it was a far cry from the truth.  “I don’t know. It’s really not our problem.”

 “Uh, yeah, it is our problem. He needs our help, Thea.”

“Don’t call me Thea. And don’t try to convince me to help Alexsandr,” Alethea snapped. “We can’t just smuggle him halfway across the Greek world to the forges and then bring him and one of the sons of Hephaestus back without drawing some attention. Attention you both know we don’t need and shouldn’t risk.”

“It’s not like his grand entrance didn’t let every soul on every island in the Aegean sea know he’s here. Subtlety isn’t going to work for us; it never was,” Zeb said, meeting Alethea’s bright blue eyes and pleading silently with her. “He needs our help. Look at him.”

“Oh, he’s a pretty face, alright, but there’s obviously something wrong with him. Look at how he’s dressed, listen to how he speaks.” Alethea said.

“He’s different. So what?”

Sighing, Alethea finally turned to watch Kallus climbing up onto the gleaming x-wing again. “Zeb, there’s something off about him.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Besides the fact that he fell from the sky?”

Alethea scowled at Cassian and then at Zeb. “I’m not joking. I believe there’s something larger at play here. This is not a time to be playing games, Cassian, not with the league causing mayhem across all corners of the Greek world.”

Her words fell on deaf ears. “He seems harmless, if just a little confused.” Cassin said, offering a nudge of Alethea’s arm. Come on, since when did we ever give up on someone who needed our help?”

Alethea scowled. “He can’t even pay.”

“He’d be more than willing to help us pick up work.” Zeb countered.

“I don’t like it, Zeb. I mean it,” Alethea said, turning over her shoulder to give the odd man, Alexsandr, a glance. He was tinkering with a large metal dome that he’d pulled out of his x-wing, or so the man called it. “This is more than just some misadventure gone wrong. I really don’t like it.”

Sighing, Zeb shook his head and continued to watch Kallus fiddle with a panel on the side of the fighters. “I respect your judgement Alethea, I do, but what’s the worst he could do?”

“Put a bounty on all our heads?”

Helpful as ever, Cassian snorted. “How’s he going to do that if he can’t pay us?”

After Cassian’s unfortunate stumble backwards, once Alethea pushed him away, she rolled her eyes. “I’m saying he’ll drag us into the spotlight. We’re supposed to stay close to the ground. People don’t trust demigods like they used to,” Alethea said, matter-of-factly.

“Well, I say we help him,” Cassian said firmly. “What about you, Zeb?”

Zeb, however, didn’t immediately answer. “Alethea,” Zeb began gently. “He is scared, alone and we dragged him, bleeding, out of a metal carcass that fell from the sky. He doesn’t have anyone else.”

“That doesn’t mean we should be his someone.”

Garazeb watched Alexsandr, muscles rippling in the sunlight in a white undershirt with the arms of his orange suit tied around his waist. He took in a deep breath, and his apologetic eyes met Alethea’s.

Kallus, straddling the transparisteel of the cockpit behind him, pushed one leg, and then the other up to stumble along the nose of the fighter and onto one of the wings. Black boots smeared sand on the s-foil beneath them, and Kallus plucked a piece of seaweed off the durasteel and tossed it into the sea. Below, Kallus saw with a smile, was the jagged symbol painted just by the thrusters.

Grinning to himself, Kallus pulled off a glove with his teeth and brushed off the sand from the blue paint and orange stripes. The symbol, from the earliest days of the Rebellion, deserved better than to be scratched up by carelessly tracking sand over it. To think of it, most every person who’d borne that symbol deserved better, but it wasn’t like he could change much about it.

Readjusting himself, Kallus crawled over and tapped on the dome of the astromech, a black R4 unit, and waited for a response. None came. Where other pilots might have collided the dome with their fist (which, not only had to be painful, but in Kallus’s opinion, was extraordinarily rude) Kallus knocked gentler and more patiently than less thoughtful pilots.

The powercell hummed and on came the lights and the buzz of sound from the astromech, as R4 squealed and turned to look up at Kallus.

You crashed! It said accusingly.

“I crashed?” Kallus repeated. “You sent us through Wild Space and botched the hyperspace jump. I did the best I could after whatever you put in the navicomputer.”

You didn’t tell me where to jump.

“Deep space was not what I had in mind, R4,” Kallus rolled his eyes, standing on either side of the droid to lift it from the pocket and out of the fighter. “Do you want to tell me what happened? I can’t make anything out from the readings in the cockpit.”

R4 warbled, almost grumbling. What happened is you got shot by a Star Destroyer, Captain. And then you made a jump to hyperspace without putting in coordinates.

“You were supposed to do that. I told you; we had to get back to the fleet. We still have to.”

The hyperdrive was damaged. Protocol dictates I save your life before I obey your orders.

“I reprogrammed that part of your protocol.”

There was an override.

“Whose override?”

It doesn’t matter

“Yes it does. Who overrode your obedience protocol?”

R4 paused. Finnick .

Kallus yelped as he pulled R4 free, tumbling with his astromech into the sand with a grunt and a metal clang when R4 landed next to him. “Kriff.” Finnick.

I’m sorry.

“You’re a droid!”

I’m still sorry.

Kallus sighed, pressing his face into his hands and sighing. “It doesn’t matter. Thank you for saving my life, but we have to get back to the fleet. The Empire’s latest project won’t stay a secret forever, and I’d rather be the one to break the news than the remains of a scorched planet.”

Fulcrum-three is in no condition to get back into the sky, break through the atmosphere, and get through uncharted space, much less keep you alive on the way there.

“Then how about we fix it, R4?”

Not possible.

“Not possible?” Kallus repeated. “What do you mean? We’ve put the fighter back together in worse conditions. How bad can it be?”

Complete system failure, R4 said beeped. Navigation computer needs rewiring, life support is compromised, and even though there’s still some fuel left, the thrusters are shredded.

Kallus stared down at the astromech in disbelief. “ How? ”

A Star Destroyer’s turbolaser will do that to a beat-up old fighter, Captain.

Kallus groaned, reached into the sand, and threw a rock out into the sea. Though it ought to have distracted him, alleviated the surface layer of his stress, Kallus didn’t feel any more in control after throwing the rock. A shooting pain shot up his arm and he shouted, hitting the ground and clenching his forearm, jaw clenched. Ripping up the torn sleeve of his blood-stained jumpsuit, Kallus turned his arm over to see nothing.

Not a hint of blood, nor a scar left in the wake of his crash injury, but his skin appeared to be the picture of health. Void of injury or tears, Kallus gaped at the perfect, smooth pale arm before him and turned to look at R4.

What’s wrong?

“Nothing,” Kallus said. “Look at my arm.” R4 obliged, wobbling forwards and offering a few passes of its scanner.

Nothing is wrong. R4 repeated. Your pain receptors are active, but aside from mild hypernatremia, nothing is wrong with your arm.

“Hypernatremia- my arm is salty?”

On the inside, yes.

“Like seawater?”

R4 chirped. Maybe.

“That man, the one who fell off the rock.”

You mean the one that got pushed?

“That’s the one,” Kallus said. “I was injured in the crash, and somehow, he healed my arm. With the sea.”

With a natural balm or mix using aquatic life?

Kallus shook his head. “No. It baffled me. He healed me with the sea water.”

R4 gave a shrill whine. That doesn’t make any sense.

“I’m still in pain and I don’t have any injuries,” Kallus said, wincing when his fingers pressed too hard on his unafflicted aching arm. “That doesn’t make any sense either.”

R4 whirred, turning its dome to watch the trio arguing, or at least they appeared to be arguing. Kallus couldn’t tell over the sound of the waves, and he didn’t know any of them very well.

Are you going to let them help you with the repairs?

“They don’t know the first thing about starfighters, R4. Even if they did, I don’t know or trust them.”

Do you have a choice? Is there anyone else that’s going to help you?

Alexsandr sighed. While he may not have liked it, R4 was right. The odd group of demigod wannabes were his best and only choice.

“Alexsandr,” Zeb called, moving down the slope with Cassian by his side. Kallus looked up from the droid he was tinkering with, feeling himself smile without meaning to. “We can help you get your uh- fighter fixed.”

The green in Zeb’s eyes, Kallus realized, carried a warmth not unlike sun-kissed treetops over Yavin’s jungles, with searing hot thrusters shaking the canopies as pilots flew too close. But that was impossible.

“You can?” he asked, perking up with the wrench in his hand as he stopped trying to tune up the poor astromech that hadn’t fared too well in the crash. “How?”

“There are metalworkers, inventors, unlike anything the world has ever seen, skilled in a number of things, not unlike your wing.”

“X-wing,” Kallus nodded. “Where are they?”

“Not too close, I’m afraid. If you want their help, you will have to travel across the mountains with us, and we’ll have to pick up work along the way to eat and keep a roof over our heads, but I believe they can help you.”

“How long?”

“The journey should take a little over a month. I know it seems like a long time, but it’s the fastest we can go.”

“Any help you can give me I would appreciate immensely, Garazeb.”

Zeb laughed. “It’s just Zeb, Alexsandr. Nobody calls me Garazeb.”

“My apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Alright then,” Kallus said with a shy smile.

“Uh- what is that?”

Kallus blinked slowly. “What is what?” 

 Uneasy, but offering a sheepish smile, Zeb scratched the back of his neck and motioned towards R4. “You know, that.”

“Oh,” Kallus said. “Oh! I didn’t even realize. You haven’t seen an astromech before, have you?”

“Eh- no,” Zeb chuckled, shifting in the sand and get comfortable. R4 warbled, leaving Zeb to clasp the hilt of his sword uneasily.

Intervening, Kallus decided, would keep R4 and Zeb’s sense of normalcy intact. “How about you go speak with Cassian and Alethea? I’ll wrap things up over here.”

“Alright then,” Zeb said, retreating back up the beach and towards the ever-unhappy Alethea.

With a touch of difficult, Kallus hauled R4 back into the fighter, ensuring it was secure before tossing his sand-coated helmet into the pilot’s seat. 

R4 warbled sadly, and Kallus patted the droid’s dome as affectionately as he could muster. “I’m sorry, R4, but you can’t come with me. I’m going to be gone a long time, and I barely fit in here. Something says you wouldn’t even come close.”

With an offended shrill, R4 let loose a flurry of beeps and a string of binary Kallus only sighed at. “I need you here, R4. You’re responsible for the ship, and for keeping it and my things safe. I need you to do that for me, okay?”

R4 whined. 

“Yes, I know it isn’t fair. I wish I could do something about it. I don’t particularly like leaving you here alone, little one.”

R4 squeaked a few tones of varying pitch, each shorter than the one before it. 

“I know. Believe me, I know.” Kallus sighed, and looked back up at Zeb, who was speaking with his friends, or at least supposed to be. He looked away as soon as Kallus turned his head, but not quickly enough. “He just keeps looking at me. I’m not sure I can even trust him, R4. I might be dead before sunset.”

R4 made its typical scoff-like sound, as it always did when Kallus said something ridiculous. 

“He does not! And shame on you for even suggesting it. He thinks I’m a bizarre stranger from the sky who crashed into the ocean like a complete moron at best. Dinner at worst.”

R4’s pointed silence and motion towards Zeb and the demigods with one little arm-like apparatus was enough to make Kallus pause.

“Trust me, I’ll be lucky to come back here in one piece. If I do, then you can say I told you so.”

Blatting miserably, R4 sank further into the pocket in the x-wing. 

“I’ll do everything in my power to come back here for you. I promise. But I have to go on this journey alone, R4. And I can’t succeed if I’m worrying about you. I need to know I can trust you to take care of things. Check on the ship, make sure you stay powered up, and repair as much damage as you can. If it comes to it, go into low power mode and wait.”

>

Kallus sighed, watching the other two demigods end their conversation and begin making their way down to where Kallus was. 

“Can I count on you?”

R4 whistled an agreement, however reluctantly. 

“Yeah. I’ll miss you, too.”

“Ready, Alexsandr?” Zeb said, extending each syllable of Kallus’s name ever so slightly, and despite Kallus’s best efforts, eliciting a faint pink blush over his nose.

“I believe so.”

Zeb winked. “Oh, I bet you’re readier than you think you are.”

“That’s enough, Garazeb,” Alethea said sternly, rolling the r’s and exaggerating the long pronunciation of his name. “Your flirting can wait.”

Alethea guided Kallus with a firm along the edge of the beach, and R4 stayed behind in the x-wing, grumbling about sand in its treads and being abandoned by his only companion. Kallus wasn’t sure whether or not to resist, and his instincts readied him for a fight.

Perhaps Zeb could see as much, because he reached over to stop Alethea from marching Kallus across the beach.

Kallus could see the tension between them, and as much as it seemed illogical, guilt crept up and its poison wilted the flower of hope that’d blossomed upon meeting Zeb and the others.

Alethea didn’t seem to like Kallus very much, and he wondered if the bond between the band of rescuers was strained because of his arrivals.

“Shut it, you,” Zeb snapped. “I’m not trying to push him around.”

“We need to drag him around with us, Zeb. That’s the point. We can’t stay,” Alethea said. 

“We’re gonna help you,” Zeb promised.

“But we have to leave now before everyone who saw that crash comes here and does only Zeus knows what to us,” Alethea said sternly. “If you want our help, that’s the first step we’re taking. There will be no more unnecessary risks. What we say goes, even if you don’t like it. And if you decide you don’t want our help anymore, that’s it. We’ll be done with you. You’ll be on your own for good.”

Kallus didn’t know who or what Zeus was, but the turn of phrase was easy enough to interpret. “I understand. I’ll do my best to follow your instructions so long as our paths don’t stray from one another.”

Alethea waved him on. “Come with us then, we need to hurry.”

“But the x-wing,” Kallus said. “The whole point of this is to repair it, not leave it out in the open for the taking.”

“We have a plan. You need to trust us, or we will never succeed.” Alethea said sternly.

Kallus’s expression grew stern and he crossed his arms, turning to stare intently at Alethea. “I don’t like plans I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to understand.”

“Actually, I do.”

“Actually, Alexsandr, you don’t,”

“Alethea, I do.”

“Hey- hey lets just calm down.” Zeb stepped in between the two of them, and reached up his hands to stop the fight from going any further. “Alethea, get the horses ready.”

“Fine.” She said, storming past the two of them to climb back up to where the horses waited. 

Watching her retreating back, Kallus sighed. “She doesn’t like me.”

“She’s like that with everyone. It’s just hard for her right now.” Zeb seemed to be debating adding the explanation, but whatever words were wandering around his mind, Zeb didn’t share them. “It’s just- it’s not easy. She’s trying.”

Whatever it was Zeb was trying to explain about Alethea, Kallus resigned himself to it and sighed. “Alright.”

As soon as Kallus attempted to make his way up the hillside just on the heels of Alethea’s feet, Zeb placed one hand on his shoulder and kept Kallus from taking one step further. “Put your ridiculously bright clothing in your… ship. Anything out of the ordinary could make you a target, and endanger the group.”

Flushing, Kallus nodded, and pulled the orange jumpsuit off, tossing it into the cockpit along with his boots at Zeb’s request, and the holster his blaster was in. The clatter of his belongings hitting his helmet indicated as much.  “Is that everything?”

“For now. We’ll need to move and get you some proper clothing as soon as possible. Come with us.”

As much as Zeb’s command didn’t seem to leave room for debate, Kallus felt himself relax. Somehow the orders given by Zeb were reminiscent of a bizarre feeling of camaraderie. The memory of his former commanding officer and squadron leader blended with his successor, two men Kallus had been very close with, in different ways, before their deaths.

The dangers of relationships in the Rebellion.

Kallus let himself be guided by Zeb and Alethea away from the beach. When Zeb clasped his forearms and summer-hot hands sent crackles of tingling up every branch of every nerve beneath Kallus’s skin, Kallus fought the urge to gasp. From the look Zeb offered, with one lip tugged between sharp teeth, Kallus suspected he’d only been somewhat successful.

Kallus thought he was imagining it at first, but the longer they touched the more the lighting-streaks of sunlight through every cell in his body and across his pale, cool skin. 

“Alright, up you go, Alexsandr,” Zeb said; it was the only warning Kallus got before he was tossed over the animal’s back without an ounce of the smooth swagger he’d grown accustomed to when climbing in and out of fighters. 

He nearly fell off backwards when Zeb tugged Kallus forwards. Catching himself with his hands just barely, and in a scrambling motion of limbs that Zeb had the decency not to laugh at, Kallus heaved a sigh of relief.

While he was placed gracelessly on the back of what he assumed was Zeb’s horse, Alethea made sure their things were secure. She didn’t climb onto the white horse next to them, and when Zeb swung his leg over the back of the horse in front of where Kallus was seated, now upright, Kallus realized what he should’ve before.

They were splitting up. 

Kallus looked down at Alethea and at Cassian, who was walking into the water again. “You’re not coming with us?” 

“Cassian is hiding your X-wing and your bizarre companion,” Alethea explained. 

Zeb nodded. “You and I are going to get as far away from here as fast as possible before the sun goes down. We’ll meet back up again just before sunrise.”

“I don’t want to endanger anyone.”

“You’re not.” Zeb said, guiding the horse away from the other two. “Now, come on, we need to get moving.”

Alethea nodded, and twisted the sword in her hand one final time before she turned to go the opposite direction, towards the path Kallus saw winding a zig zag path up and down the mountain. 

He heard shouting but never had the chance to ask about it, because Zeb steered them away from the open beach and onto the road surrounded by trees. Just as the sea swallowed up Cassian along with the x-wing, leaving Alethea standing over an empty sandy beach, it disappeared behind the cluster of forest and Kallus only ever heard Alethea’s shout and the clang of metal in the air as Zeb carted him away.

The horse carried them far, and only after its breaths grew heavy and ragged did Zeb let up, not slowing entirely, but easing on the speed with which they were tearing through the roads. 

“Garazeb,” Kallus began.

“Zeb,” he was corrected.

With a sigh, Kallus resigned himself to use of the nickname.

“Zeb, what about Alethea? What about Cassian?” Kallus asked. “If what she said is true, if the crash drew attention to you and endangered your lives-”

“Then what can you do about it, Alexsandr?” Zeb asked sharply. “There’s nothing you can do. What’s done is done, and I believe Cassian and Alethea will be alright. They’re warriors and worrying over what’s probably already over won’t help anyone.”

Kallus blushed, glad for Zeb’s inability to see him so embarrassed. “I suppose you’re right. You would know them better than I could.”

“You’ll see what I mean the longer we’re together. The three of us, well, we give Spartans a run for their money.”

Alexsandr nodded vaguely, as if he knew what a Spartan was. “I’m sure you do.”

Zeb patted Kallus’s leg. “Good man. Now, let’s get moving.” Zeb said, and guided the horse into a gallop before he waited for Kallus’s response. 

They continued onwards for quite some time. While the pounding of the hooves on the earth beneath them was rough and jarring for Kallus, an inexperienced rider, the fast-paced journey gave him enough time to take in fragmented information about his surroundings. The planet he’d landed on seemed to have a fair amount of water, and mountainous lands, with trees and forest life scattered across the mass of land they were on. 

“Where in the galaxy am I?” Kallus breathed in awe. Few planets left in the galaxy still resembled the beauty of wherever he’d crashed, and nothing seemed to be familiar, not even the presence of other humans, who seemed far less advanced than any Kallus ever seen before in his life.

“The island of Kos, off the coast of mainland Greece,” Zeb shouted, but how Zeb heard him over the sound of the air whipping past their faces and the horse’s continued beats was beyond Kallus.

Neither of those things meant anything to Kallus, but at least he had a name. Greece. Potentially a local name for a planet Kallus could find the proper name of as soon as he accessed some star charts and navigation information.

He wondered vaguely if the planet he was on was comprised of warlords who hoarded their technology and kept their people ignorant and poor, living in the dirt. The idea, while possible, was not a potentiality Kallus was equipped nor eager to confront. Especially because those sorts of settlements were Imperial, and there was no reason for him to go picking fights with Moffs or stormtrooper battalions with three bizarre quasi-force wielders convinced of their own status as deities, and a downed starfighter.

Kallus watched the sun’s descent, as the blue gave way to oranges and pinks not long after they’d departed the beach and the battle Kallus suspected began as soon as they disappeared. He never had the time to feel guilty for abandoning Alethea and Cassian, because Zeb steered them into the forest and away from the main roads, disappearing down a path he seemed to find with little effort.

Kallus had no idea how it was possible, but the horse’s movements, while still at a gallop, were controlled with no massive overcorrections or uncertainty on Zeb’s part. He seemed to know, to see more than Kallus could even if he were squinting.

When Zeb finally slowed the pace of the horse at the top of the hill, deep in the trees, the last of the sunlight itself was disappearing beyond the horizon, and the islands Kallus saw in the distance had begun to light up as cities continued to wake through the night. Zeb’s gaze however, seemed firmly fixed on the darkening sky, and the trickle of moonlight through the branches above them. 

“Zeb,” Kallus asked, daring to make a sound in the otherwise silent forest. “Zeb, are you alright?”

It took long enough for Zeb to reply, Kallus wondered if he’d been heard, but eventually, Zeb turned around and looked at Kallus. “It’s going to get steep. Don’t want you falling off. Put your arms around me before we keep going.”

“What?” Kallus asked, looking around the cliffsides they were roaming. “I’ll be fine.”

“Please?” Zeb asked, searching Kallus’s for the answer he suspected they wouldn’t be going any further without.

He sighed, and clutched Zeb from behind, feeling the stiff muscles beneath his hands even through the woven cloth. “Like this?”

Zeb pulled his grasp tighter with one hand, leading Kallus to be so pressed up into his back there was hardly room to breathe between them. Yet, Kallus found he didn’t mind the musky odor of sweat and some kind of natural oil, and instead took a deeper breath. 

Whether it was to calm himself or to greedily take in the smell of Zeb, a smell that matched what little he did know of the demigod, Kallus didn’t dare try and figure it out. Where Zeb’s hand was still on Kallus’s wrist, Kallus could feel the crackle of warmth and what felt like the last of the sunlight on his skin.

“That’s better,” Zeb said, releasing Kallus’s arm as soon as the sun was gone, and using the reins to guide the horse once again. “Stay close and stay quiet. We need to find a place to wait out the night.”

Kallus frowned, feeling the steady musculature of Zeb beneath his face. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“A cave, I think I can see it from here,” Zeb replied, lifting one hand to point in the distance. 

Kallus couldn’t see anything beyond what was two feet in front of him, aside from Zeb’s back, and while he found himself nudged in the direction of trusting Zeb, his base instinct, the instinct to question even those who gave him no reason to, was far too insistent. “How?” He asked.

“I’m an archer, or bred to be one anyways,” Zeb shrugged dismissively. “I can see more than others in the dark.”

“But you’re human,” Kallus said. “No human can see like this.”

“This one can. I’m getting you out of here,” Zeb promised. “Just keep holding on, we can be there before too long, and then we can set up camp for the night.”

Kallus seemed baffled, but even at their slowed pace, he was still holding onto Zeb as instructed. “And light a fire? Wouldn’t that attract too much attention?” 

“Yeah, it would. So you’re gonna get to know me really well.” 

Zeb’s joking confidence was endearing, but Kallus suspected his humor was based in reason. From what Kallus could tell, the night air was already cold, and if they were in hiding, then there was little reason to suspect they would light a fire any time in the near future.

“So,” Kallus began, hoping to make a bit of a joke himself, though wholly out of his league. “I suppose that’s why you’re so close with Cassian and Alethea, then. The body heat must do wonders during the night.”

Zeb barked a laugh, turning over his shoulder to look at Kallus with fond eyes. “Oh, I knew I liked you.” He winked.

Looking up with quasi mischievous eyes, Kallus offered Zeb a smile. “So, is that a yes?” 

Zeb shrugged, returning the flash of white teeth and winking. “Well, it certainly helps, but we’ve been friends for years. Sort of a demigod thing,” Zeb said. 

“Oh.” Wonderful. They’re all convinced they’re the children of nonexistent deities. Kallus sighed. “Is that your power then, warmth?”

“Eh, not really.” Zeb shrugged. “It’s more complicated than that, but I can show you sometime. It’s pretty interesting.”

It was not the worst explanation Kallus had ever received, but certainly not the one he hoped for. If the sword-carrying force-sensitives wanted to play gods and goddesses, they were perfectly entitled to it, but Kallus knew better. “Perhaps you will.”

Or perhaps you’ll hope I don’t ask any more questions . Either way, Kallus was determined to get what he needed to return to the Rebellion, with their help as demigods or as normal living beings.

Zeb slipped off the back of the horse and held out one hand for Kallus to take. He gladly accepted, and tried not to be surprised by the insane tingle that sparked up through his skin at Zeb’s touch. Kallus squeezed perhaps a tad too tightly but Zeb made no indication Kallus’s weight was difficult to assist in dismounting the horse. 

Despite his bare feet, Kallus found the reunion with the ground to be quite pleasant. In a gentle alcove of twisted bushes and wrangled trees in front of a small cave’s mouth, Zeb helped Kallus off of the horse again, and left tingles in his hips where the demigod had grasped him and hoisted Kallus up and down to the ground again.

Once Zeb led both Kallus and their trusty steed through the crack in the stone and the cave where moonlight poured in from a crevice opened to the sky above, he released Kallus. Whatever magic Zeb’s touch had to have been working evaporated and a pang in his stomach screeched for attention. Kallus tried to ignore the gnawing in his in his insides, but when his feet hit the grassy ground, his stomach rebelled and grumbled loudly.

Zeb’s eyes flicked up from where he stared at his noisy stomach to meet Kallus’s and Zeb grinned. “Let’s get you fed, alright?”

“I don’t have any ration bars on me, everything is in the fighter,” Kallus said, realizing he should’ve thought to bring something, anything with him. They were supposed to be gone for months, Zeb had told him. “I’m sorry.”

Waving him off with that signature wide smile, Zeb winked. “I’m a good hunter. I’ll find you something to eat, and then we can go from there.”

“We’d have to cook it,” Kallus said.

“I can take care of that,” Zeb said. “Trust me, alright?”

Kallus looked up at Zeb, trying to find the part of himself that didn’t want to argue. “But you said we couldn’t light a fire.”

“Never said I was going to light a fire.” One large tanned and scarred hand brushed against Kallus’s face, knuckles ruffling the neat muttonchops. “Have a little faith. Stay here, stay warm, and I’ll be back before you know it. Promise.”

Zeb still hadn’t let go, but he slipped one hand from Kallus’s and pulled the extra blanket off the back of the horse and unrolled it to pull around Kallus’s shoulders. Kallus smiled, and even if it was shy, he felt the warmth from so much more than the skin brushing against his. 

“Alright,” he said with a nod. “Be safe.”

Laughter, as if they’d not been fleeing for their lives, came as easy to Zeb as his heat. “If you say so. See you soon.”

“Soon,” Kallus echoed.

Kallus watched the bow and quiver slung over Zeb’s shoulder, and the mocking two fingered salute from Zeb just before he disappeared into the forest, into the darkness where Kallus could not see him. Kallus reached up to pat the snout of the horse. “It’s just you and me, then. It’s been quite a bizarre day for us both.”

The horse didn’t reply.

“Don’t suppose you’d like to tell me anything of use?” Kallus asked, the question directed more to himself than to the horse. “I’m not quite sure what I’m up against here. Not sure which way is up or down.”

With a muffled snicker, the horse nudged his hand for more pets. 

“I can do that, too. You did well, today. Thank you for taking us as far as you did,” Kallus said.

The howl of a wolf in the distance garnered both their attention, and Kallus felt worry creep into his heart. “You’re alright,” he said soothingly, still petting the horse. “It’s okay. You’re going to be just fine.” 

He wasn’t sure if the words were for him or the horse, but Kallus knew they both had good reason to be afraid, alone as they were.

Chapter Text

In between the persistent howling of hungry wolves and the hushed snickering of the horse next to him, Kallus drew the blanket over his shoulders tighter, and made sure the one on the horse was covering it as much as possible. “It’s okay.” 

The horse seemed to disagree, but Kallus didn’t have the means to do anything besides reassure the horse the only way he knew how. It wasn’t enough, and the longer time went by, the more nervous Kallus got. Of course, he knew animals were quite perceptive and could pick up on human emotions, but it was an endless cycle of feedback, and Kallus could not put his confidence back together.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. What kind of idiot trusted a complete and obviously delusional stranger on an uncharted primitive planet, leaving themselves unarmed and alone and separated from their ship. Oh, yes, that would be me. I’m the idiot.

Kallus sighed, and then scoffed. He was not a kriffing idiot, nor someone who waited around for someone else to save him. Kallus was a doer, he took action even in the face of an impossible challenge. Metalworkers, he needed to start with metalworkers. Kallus reached one hand up to push himself back onto the horse and then the twig snapped. 

Instead of shouting and falling, as most would’ve done, Kallus only fell with a sharp inhalation and his eyes flaring wide open as soon as he lost his balance. 

There were no weapons in the cave, and Zeb had not left much with the horse, but if he could figure out an advantage over his opponent, then Kallus would be able to wrangle the upper hand. He seized a rock, which was better than nothing, and waited.

The branches rustled, and Kallus could hear something moving beyond the tree line, but not even the moonlight was enough for him to make it out. 

Then, it went silent.

Kallus walked out of the mouth of the cave, blanket still drawn tightly over his shoulders. 

“Zeb?” he asked, knowing better than to shout in the dead of the night, but hoping beyond all reason that it was in fact, his companion. 

There was no reply, and the rustling continued. 

Kallus frowned. “Zeb, is that you?” He asked again, still brandishing his rock.

Silence again, and then a low growl. 

That’s not Zeb, Kallus’s mind supplied. Whatever it was, Kallus quickly found out. One second later, it emerged from the grass with teeth and claws snarling and jaw wide open. Salivating at the mouth, the wolf growled, ears back and tail raised as it took one step forward, and then another.

Instinct screamed at him to act, so Kallus shouted at the wolf, waving his arms and snarling back, even going so far as to throw the rock as he backed away, staring dead into the eyes of the toothed beast. Kallus watched as its hind legs bent, and before he had the chance to do anything, it pounced.

When the wolf landed on Kallus, he hit the ground with his back, but his arms were firmly above his face, trying to keep the animal from tearing him to shreds, even as it snarled and gnawed at the arm he threw up to protect himself while his other hand clobbered it in the face.

The wolf whined, tumbling over to the side and disoriented, but it gave Kallus enough time to get on his feet and shout again, picking up another rock and tossing it. The wolf didn’t seem deterred, and geared up for another pounce when it shrieked and toppled over to the side in front of Kallus’s feet.

An arrow was lodged in its eye.

Out of the forest came Zeb, whose wide eyes and horrified stare were barely enough to discourage Kallus from getting upset with him. “Malaka, are you alright?”

Kallus gritted his teeth and looked at his shredded clothing, before staring back up at Zeb with enough fury to rival the wolf’s, only to actually meet Zeb’s gaze. Those green eyes crackled, and Kallus’s resolve went limp.

Stars, what was it about him that transformed Kallus into an illogical smitten moron? He barely had time to wonder, because Zeb pulled out a small dagger, and to Kallus’s surprise, went over to the wolf. He muttered something the translator either didn’t or couldn’t catch, and Kallus heard rather than saw the knife’s movement. 

He didn’t want the wolf to suffer without needing to.

Zeb dropped the bow, and took Kallus’s face in his massive hands, a sigh of relief unlike anything Kallus had ever experienced before in his life. 

“You’re okay,” he said, searching the expanse of Kallus’s face in desperation. “Shit, you’re okay.”

Kallus nodded slowly, gaping slowly. “You shot that thing,”

“I did.”

“You saved my life,”

“I did.”

“Again!”

“Yeah,” Zeb laughed softly, “I did.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, I figured, you’re less hot with claw marks all over your face.”

Kallus laughed. “You are awfully bold.”

“You know, I think I’ve earned the right to flirt with you because, you know, I just saved your life,” Zeb laughed.

What am I doing?  Kallus wondered. I just met this man, this morning. He’s delusional, he thinks he’s the child of a god for crying out loud.  

And yet…

“You’re bleeding,” Zeb said.

Kallus blinked slowly, the trance he was in fading. “I’m what?” 

“Alexsandr, you’re bleeding,” Zeb repeated, hands lifting from the tears in Kallus’s shirt to lift the shimmering blood for Kallus to see, one of the few things he could make out in the dim moonlight. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I-I didn’t realize,”

“I’m such an idiot, I should’ve realized that little bugger got you,”

“Zeb, I’m fine,” Kallus insisted.

Zeb was having none of it, and scooped Kallus off his feet to carry him into the cave, before the earth had time to give way under their feet.

Kallus stiffened in Zeb’s grasp, but seemed to give way, and when Zeb scooped down to scrape the blanket off the ground where it’d fallen in the struggle, he made a delighted hum when Kallus wrapped his arms around Zeb’s neck, squeaking. 

“Easy,” he said softly, “I’ve got you. I promise.”

“Zeb,” Kallus opened his mouth to protest, but stopped before he said one more word. 

He didn’t like arguing with Kallus, even if he’d never done it before, but Zeb frowned at Kallus (not for the first time) not standing his ground with Zeb. Kallus’d been doing it all day, and as much as Alethea had insisted he not argue, Zeb wished so desperately to see that fiery passion that had to come from someone as brazen and proud as an idiot brave enough to fall from the sky. 

“What is it?” Zeb asked when Kallus stayed silent.

With a shake of his head, Kallus waved him off, but as soon as they were in the cave again, and he placed Kallus back on the ground, Zeb stared Kallus down. “I’m serious. I want to know what you’re thinking.”

Kallus looked up at him, somehow still avoiding eye contact. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something, or you’d be looking at me. What? Are you hurt worse?”

“It’s nothing, Zeb. You killed that wolf for me. The least I can do is not complain.”

“That’s not nothing. You’ve been dancing around all day trying not to step on anyone’s toes, Alexsandr,” Zeb insisted. He trapped the pretty brown eyes with his piercing green ones and watched Kallus squirm. “I’m here to tell you, toes heal. Dancing tires you out before the real battles even begin.”

Zeb watched Kallus sigh, and even when Kallus turned his head, he kept looking at Zeb. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“How do you read my mind, know what I’m thinking without even a word from me?”

Zeb shrugged. “Dunno. You’re a tough nut to crack, but I can just see it, you know?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t know,” Kallus admitted. “I’m widely renowned for others’ inability to understand what I’m thinking or feeling, and not always in a good way.”

Zeb shrugged, hand pushing back Kallus’s hair, only slightly damp from the sea water, to search for any more injuries. “I guess I can just see it somehow. I can read you, maybe better than anyone I’ve ever met before. Can’t say I know how.”

“The group I mentioned before, the Jedi,” Kallus said, “They are remarkably intuitive, much like you are.”

“I don’t know anything about any Jedi, but I do know after just one day that you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re not standing your ground when you disagree with me on things that clearly matter to you. You don’t argue with Alethea if I ask you not to, you don’t argue with me if I look at you, and when Cassian and I pulled you out of that water, your first thought was your duty as a soldier, a warrior. Not concern for your own wellbeing, although I’m starting to wonder if you have any of that, but we’re gonna save that conversation for later.

“What I’m saying, Alexsandr, is you’re giving. And sometimes, that’s okay, but if you’re in a war, you only have so much ground to give. And this? Here? I might not be your enemy, but you’re going to make some if you’re planning on taking this path to get what you want. And your new enemies will try to take more than you’re willing to give. So, stand your ground. Don’t give in. Stick up for yourself, even with me.”

“Alright.” Kallus raised his hands in surrender. “I believe I can do as much.”

“Relax. Loosen up a little. And let me see those arms.”

Kallus winced, but lifted up one of his arms up anyways. “I thought you said to stand my ground.”

“I did, yeah. But you’ve also got to take care of yourself, and bleeding to death so you don’t bother me is not the way to do that, Alexsandr,” Zeb said, lifting the offered limb to better see in the moonlight. “Hold still.”

Kallus inhaled sharply through his teeth even at Zeb’s gentle fingers tracing the marks left through his skin by the wolf’s claws.

“Hurts?” Zeb asked, eyes flicking from the skin over to meet Kallus’s eyes.

Kallus shook his head. “Only a little.”

“So, like the pits of Tartarus, then?”

At a loss, Kallus angled his head. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Oh,” Zeb said. “Well, I guess it just means it hurts really badly.”

“I’ll have you know my pain tolerance is much higher than that of a child toppled by simple scratch,” Kallus said, even as he winced at the firmer press on his skin.

“Right, well, try and relax, alright?” Zeb asked, shaking his head and letting those dark locks fall into his eyes. “You’re hurt, and getting angry only going to make it worse.”

Kallus scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I am not getting upset. Do you think I’m an untrained civilian?”

When met Kallus’s gaze, however, Zeb watched as whatever fight was left in Kallus went out like a light as Zeb pleaded through kind silent eyes. Zeb turned over Kallus’s arm and sighed. “You’re already in enough pain. Fighting about whether or not you’re upset won’t help anything, Kallus, and it won’t help you. Now, hold still.”

“Why?”

“Because this is going to take a second, and if you’re wiggling around like an eel, you’ll only make it harder,” Zeb said. It seemed to be the only explanation Kallus would receive; his speech packed up and left as soon as the sunlight arrived. The issue, however, remained. In the middle of the night, under the moonlight and in the relative safety of the cave, no sunlight ought to have poured into their eyes.

Even the crevice above their heads, halfway covered with twisted vines offered cold moonlight. So, when Zeb felt the entire room grow warm and the blood on his skin disappear in a high-pitched ring, Kallus gasped, and stumbled back, seeing as how Zeb let go moments before, looking down to see naught but pale freckled skin, and gold only from his own hair.

“How did you do that?” Kallus demanded.

Zeb lifted an eyebrow. “Do what?”

“This!” Kallus insisted, holding up his arms and gaping. Though his clothes were torn and discolored, his body carried no signs of the injuries from before.

“Oh.” Zeb frowned, as if realizing for the first time his capabilities surpassed just about any man. “Well, I didn’t think too much about it, really. It’s not that big a deal.”

“Garazeb-”

“Zeb,” the man corrected Kallus. “Just Zeb.”

Kallus’s arms fell to his sides, and he slouched helplessly. “Zeb, I don’t understand.”

Zeb shrugged. “Not much to understand. Come on, I’m really hungry. I caught a rabbit, and I bet I can get a nice pelt from that wolf.”

Without another word in Kallus’s direction, he turned on his heel, and walked away.

Neither the small smoke from his hands as Zeb started to cook the rabbit under what sunlight he could muster, or the twisting of his blade as the wolf-pelt came to do anything extraordinary under Kallus’s scrutinizing gaze, though Zeb felt eyes burning into the back of his head for the rest of his work. Kallus watched Zeb work until he slumped over and onto the cave floor, forgoing his determination at the arrival of insatiable exhaustion, and his ability to keep his vigil over the scarred demigod.

Where the pelt laid across the cavern, Zeb glared.

Since when did you do favors to Poseidon of all people, Artemis?

No reply was forthcoming, and Zeb scowled, shaking his head. Treading over to where Kallus fell asleep some time before, Zeb kicked off his sandals and curled on the cool stone ground to rest his head on one of his arms.

Zeb pulled Kallus into his arms, and without even thinking about it, slung one leg over Kallus’s. There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation, and while Zeb was grateful for the warmth, he wondered how often Kallus let strangers pull him as close as Zeb was in remote caves on beautiful islands. The blanket fluttered and settled overtop of them, and on his side, with Kallus so close, Zeb found he didn’t mind the rock floor. The moonlight poured in from two crevices above, but Zeb’s eyes were sinking closed, and he didn’t see it, nor care to. 

Zeb’s minimal warmth was enough to stave off shivers, or the chattering of teeth. Even the terrors of the night stood no chance at hurting Kallus, with enough hulking manpower to stand between Kallus and whatever else the kriffing gates of Hades decided to throw at either of them.

Zeb would be ready.

The first time Zeb’s eyes opened, he didn’t believe them.

Not because he wasn’t alone, which was a welcome surprise, and not because it was still dark, but because Kallus was smiling.

The two of them seemed to have moved in their sleep, and Kallus was lazily draped over Zeb’s chest, still covered in that blanket, a sleepy grin on his face as he nuzzled into the tunic Zeb was wearing. It was a bizarre, yet no less welcome moment, and Zeb reached the one hand Kallus wasn’t holding with his sleepy pale fingers up to brush some of the freer looser hair out of his eyes. 

Gold, with a touch of brown, but no less beautiful. 

Kallus was, in fact, beautiful. There was no denying that simple fact, nor was Zeb capable of wasting time toying with his feelings, no more in tune with his own emotions than a child. Zeb strongly suspected Kallus’s position was precarious, and almost confirmed those concerns the night before. 

It somehow was beyond shameful for him to realize too late Kallus felt pressured. 

To be dropped in a foreign land with a ragtag group of powerful individuals, far from his own land, Kallus was wholly alone. He left many of his own familiar things behind and was at Zeb’s every whim and mercy. 

Not one part of him dared to consider the possibility of extorting Kallus. Though they walked together, Zeb knew the stranger nestled in his arms suffered from a loneliness Zeb felt many times in the vastness of a crowd. Surrounded by others and somehow alone.

Zeb’s heart ached for Kallus because even if it wasn’t the same, the familiarity Zeb had with standing on the edge of a chasm between other people let Zeb remember. Zeb knew what Kallus must’ve been feeling was crippling, and that was without the problems Zeb had discovered the Olympians were already having with Kallus.

Problems Zeb knew Kallus had no business worrying about once Zeb handled it. He debated telling Cassian and Alethea, but there was no sure reason to worry them over what could have been nothing. Zeb would make an offering to both Artemis and to Poseidon, and the whole thing would be over with.

Kallus didn’t stir, though Zeb knew if they were going to reunite with Cassian and Alethea in time, they would need to leave and reach the outskirts of the nearby town to come up with the next part of their shaky plan. 

“Alexsandr,” Zeb said softly. 

To his surprise, though later he would realize Zeb should’ve expected as much, Kallus’s eyes fluttered open. Looking at Zeb through the groggy haze of the early morning, he should’ve been startled, but to Zeb, Kallus seemed sleepy. “What is it?”

Zeb knew they didn’t have the luxury of sleeping in, but wished he could’ve let Kallus sleep a little longer. “We need to get moving.”

Kallus inhaled slowly, and nodded, pushing himself up off Zeb’s chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to’ve fallen asleep there. “Just, give me a minute, is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Take as long as you need, but not too long. Cassian and Alethea will be waiting.”

Kallus stiffened. “Do you suppose they’re alright, then?”

“I think so, yeah. Trust me, they’re a lot tougher than they look,” Zeb said, patting Kallus’s shoulder, “I’m gonna see how the pelt’s doing, it’ll fetch a hefty price at the market. People are always looking for wolf pelts.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Kallus said, looking down at his arm, despite the clear lack of wounds. 

Zeb followed his gaze. He knew oftentimes when injuries were worse than a scrape or minor bruise, Alethea claimed his healing took away the physical reminders of the injury, but left behind a phantom sensation for the things that hurt worse. Cassian opted for water whenever it was available, but it wasn’t always possible to get him there in time.

He complained less, but Zeb wasn’t sure if it was because Cassian didn’t feel the bizarre aftereffects of his healing, or the exposure he had to the water wiped away the feeling Alethea dreaded. 

Kallus, Zeb knew, would not complain, even if it was bothering him. It would take some time to get him confident enough to voice his own opinions and thoughts around Zeb and the others. Zeb hoped it wouldn’t take too long, but as frail as the bond between him and Kallus was, he knew better than to hold his breath.

Soon enough, the two of them were on the back of the horse and making their way out of the cave, back down the mountain and towards the town Zeb saw some ways away. It was where they agreed to meet up again the next morning, and Zeb sent up a quick prayer, wishing to see his friends far more than he did their killers.

At first, when Zeb and Kallus reached the crossroads, Zeb heard Kallus sigh. “They’re not here.” 

“They will be. Trust them to get here when they’re meant to.” Zeb made a note to remind himself to teach Kallus to have a little more faith in his friends, but he’d only be lying to himself and to Kallis if he said he wasn’t worried.

Several minutes later, Zeb perked up and Kallus didn’t.

Kallus looked up at him questioningly. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?”

Zeb held up a hand to silence him. “Nothing yet,” Zeb said. “But I hear hoofbeats. Come on, let’s go over here. Anyone can ride a horse.”

And it was true. Horses, while fiercely loyal to a few demigods, could be steered in the wrong direction by anyone lucky enough to get their hands on the reins of the poor animals. Zeb led the horse they were on into the trees, and then the waiting game began.

Very quickly, Zeb learned Kallus was not very good at the waiting game, or perhaps not as good as he might’ve been if he had all the cards in his deck. For the moment, however, neither of them had anything, unless Zeb counted the nervous chatty blond man wrapped around him from behind.

“Is it them?”

“I don’t know.”

“I can’t hear anything.”

“Maybe if you’d let me try to listen, I could tell you what I’m sitting here trying to hear.”

Kallus flinched. Zeb felt the movement against his back, and sighed.

“I’m sorry. I just- we’re having a rough go of it right now,” Zeb said. “It’s not your fault. I don’t want you thinking that, because it’s not. I’m just nervous. These are my friends, we got you wrapped up in this whole thing.”

“You’re helping me, Zeb. Everyone has problems.”

“I just- these are big problems.”

“If you’re bounty hunters- I mean a bunch of misthios, I understand. Trouble follows me around, too, Zeb. Sometimes in flames.” 

“From the sky?”

“Usually,” Kallus said. “Sometimes in the stars.”

“The stars?”

“Shh, aren’t you supposed to be listening?”

“Right,” Zeb said, but he struggled to actually tune in with his senses again. Eventually, he shook that giddy distractible feeling off, and Zeb breathed in slowly, and exhaled. The tuft of air whisked away all those scattered thoughts, and he concentrated on the odd scatter of hoofbeats, mismatched rhythm. 

More than one horse. 

He listened to the breathing of the horses, for the rattling of gear. 

Easy breathing, they haven’t been riding long. And there’s no heavy armor, they’re traveling light.

With Kallus silent against his back, Zeb heard nothing from him but Kallus’s own breathing until he perked up. When the sound of distance hoofbeats whispered in his ear, Kallus peered over Zeb’s shoulder to search the road, even though Zeb could barely see the silhouettes of riders through the trees. 

They both held their breaths until the riders and their horses appeared out into the open, where Kallus would only see two silhouettes, but Zeb saw their faces; the faces of his friends. 

“Who is it?” Kallus asked.

Zeb turned his head back to smile at Kallus. “My friends.”

The horse they were riding moved back down out of the trees and the path to where they converged. Zeb offered a quick prayer up to Olympus in gratitude, and when Cassian and Alethea saw him approaching, Zeb waved one hand. Though their senses were not as sharp as Zeb’s the two demigods recognized Zeb and Kallus.

All of them dismounted, but Zeb reached up to help Kallus off the horse. He pretended not to notice the slight shift in his breath when their skin brushed, and when Kallus was firmly back on the ground with two feet again, Zeb turned to Cassian and Alethea.

While he’d never admitted as much out loud to Kallus, Zeb worried for the safety of his friends, the only family he knew in such a long time. Alethea and Cassian found themselves in one of Zeb’s massive hugs, and while Cassian might have typically rolled his eyes, and Alethea stiffened in the embrace, neither hesitated to return the gesture, foreheads pressed together in an intimate gesture of trust and welcome. 

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Zeb said, “You worried me.”

“You worried yourself, I’m sure,” Alethea teased, but she smiled gently at Zeb, nonetheless. 

When Cassian drew back, clapping Zeb on the shoulder, Alethea’s relieved eyes were not lost on either of them, though with her back to Kallus, she wouldn’t let him see that she’d been worried, too. The slight expressiveness was not lost on either of the other two demigods.

Zeb stared, however, and reached up one hand to slowly run it through her hair. She normally sported a bizarre yet never ending flurry of white and blue from her head, something none of them had an explanation for beyond: “it’s Alethea” but the red staining the white caught Zeb’s attention.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, looking over at Cassian. 

“She knows, but she didn’t want me touching it, and I don’t think she’ll want you to, either.”

Zeb sighed, and directed a disapproving stare down at his friend. “She knows better. You know better. We’re only trying to help.”

“It feels weird,” she insisted.

Cassian rolled his eyes and offered up the canteen of water he plucked from the side of his horse. “I could fix it right now for you, and you’d be good as new.”

“I don’t need you to, Cassian. I’m fine. It’s barely bleeding.” Alethea insisted, taking a step back from both of them.

“At least wash it out properly,” Zeb pleaded, offering the same canteen pointedly. “I don’t want you getting sicker because you didn’t clean out your injury.”

Alethea sighed. “Zeb,”

“No, I’m serious,” Zeb said. “If it’s not that bad, let us take care of it for you,”

“I told Cassian no already. What makes you think I’ll say yes to you?”

“My charming personality,” Zeb winked.

Laughing, Alethea shook her head, but took a step closer regardless. “Funny. Cassian said the same thing.”

With the faintest brush of his thumb over the skin, the cut faded, and while there was still blood in her hair, there would not be a scar across her face because of it.

Her eyebrow still twitched when Alethea reached up to touch where the cut laid, but she shook her head. “Thank you,” she said, without a drop of sarcasm or wit laced in her voice.

Zeb’s firm nod was all he offered, but he knew from years of experience it was enough for Alethea, who was often less expressive in her words than she was through her actions. 

When he searched for Cassian, Zeb was surprised to find him staring at Kallus. Perhaps what was more surprising was Kallus stared Cassian down with a scowl.

Just when Zeb was sure he had to step in, Cassian hmphed, and nodded once, turning over his shoulder to look at Zeb and Alethea. “He’s not too bad, I’ll give him that much.”

“Excuse me?” Kallus demanded, and while his tone was only full of questions, his eyes carried something heavier: irritability.

“You’ve got a hell of a stare, and you stand your ground,” Cassian said. “That’s good. Means you’re not completely useless after all.”

Zeb did step in this time, but only because Cassian seemed to be hitting Kallus’s pressure points, and the last thing he needed was the two of them fighting while they still weren’t safe.

Speaking of safe… Lowering his voice, Zeb wrapped his arm over Cassian’s shoulder, leaving Kallus to wait for one more moment. “Did you find out anything about them on the beach?”

Cassian shook his head. “They were just bandits, local criminals, hired to try and take us out. Alethea and I handled it, but there was no one else with them. Just the bandits.”

“Right, well, you and I have something to do. We can talk more about it later,” Zeb said, clapping Cassian on the back a little too hard. “Alethea, Alexsandr, come over here for a moment.”

Kallus stepped forwards to stand with Cassian and Alethea on either side of him.

“So, here’s what we’re going to do,” Zeb said, looking from Cassian to Kallus with a nod. “You and Alethea are going to stay here while Cassian and I go to the marketplace. As, um, unique as your choice of wardrobe is, I think we’ll all be better off getting you into clothes that look more like ours.”

“I can’t pay you for those,”

“I know. But we’re going to get them for you anyways. Think of it like an investment. If we keep you from standing out, the rest of us won’t have a target on our backs.”

“Alright, but only if you’re sure.” Kallus said.

“I am. And then we’ll meet back where Cassian and Alethea have arranged for transport, and you can get rid of everything that came with you back there. Anything could draw the slightest suspicion, so all of your things have to stay here on the island.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Come on then, Cassian,”

Cassian nodded, and the two of them made their way down the road while Alethea and Kallus climbed onto her horse’s back, moving back down the road from which Alethea had come. Kallus’s responsibility, as explained to him in three short words, was to be on the “watch for bandits” while Alethea got them safely back to the coastline. 

When Zeb and Cassian arrived at the outskirts of town on horseback as the sun appeared just beneath the horizon, Zeb sighed in relief. 

“You really don’t like it when the sun’s gone.” Cassian remarked, shaking his head like he had a thousand times before.

“With all due respect to Artemis, seeing the moon isn’t quite the same thing.”

“Yes, I know.” Cassian rolled his eyes. “But best not to pick a fight with your aunt just yet.”

“Well, your dad and your uncles probably aren’t too happy with us,” Zeb said. 

Cassian cackled. “They’re probably so pissed.”

Zeb laughed too, swinging his leg over the horse’s blanket and down onto the ground. “They probably are.”

“Come on, let’s go find our friend something to wear.” Cassian grinned. “Even if I’m sure we could all do without spending that kind of money on him and you could do without putting clothes on him.”

Zeb reached over and smacked the back of Cassian’s head. “Shut it.”

Cassian tried to reach back and return the gesture, but Zeb ducked. “Oh, come on,” Cassian said, rubbing the back of his own head with a grimace. “He’s not really my type, but I know he’s yours, and I saw that look you were making at him.”

“You and him disappeared into the trees on horseback, Zeb. You were looking at him, and just now? He was not telling you goodbye to be polite. He’s going to miss you,”

“He almost died yesterday. Twice. After he almost drowned, a starving wolf attacked, and I barely kept him warm enough to sleep. That cave was freezing ,”

“Oh, keeping him warm? Are you sure this whole thing is as innocent as you’re saying?”

“I’m saying nothing happened, and you’re too nosy for your own good, Cassian.”

“I’m looking out for my best friend, Zeb.”

“Cassian, now is not the time.” Zeb said shortly. 

“Then when is the time?” Cassian asked, frowning. 

Instead of answering, Zeb shook his head, and turned down the street to the main marketplace. Many of the vendors were opening up their shops for the day, some with carts, others with their arms full of wares. Cassian’s head turned at the sight of more than a few lovely ladies strutting through the streets. 

While Cassian was distracted, Zeb took the opportunity to try and buy one of the nicest woven tunics he could, knowing the wolf pelt would fetch him a hefty price. Before he shoved it in his bag, however, Cassian turned at the last moment and tried to snatch it from his grip.

Zeb did not let go, and moved to the side to avoid the sticky hands of his friend.

Cassian reached back over and snatched the cloth from Zeb’s belongings and shook it open, jaw dropping. “Zeb, this is not just a tunic. It’s a nice tunic. Where did you get the money for that?”

“I traded that pelt for it.” Zeb said, gesturing to the wolf pelt in the merchant’s possession.

“You traded a pelt in pristine condition to get your strange new friend a nice tunic? That looks like it’s nicer than mine , give it here.”

“No!” Zeb said, pulling said clothing away from Cassian’s reach. “It’s not for you. If you want a new one, get yourself one. This is for Alexsandr.” 

“Did Alexsandr ask for such nice clothing?” Cassian asked tersely. “Or did you just decide to spend that money on him because you think it’ll make him fall in love with you? Let me guess, that woman put a spell on it to make him fall in love with you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Zeb snapped. “I did not. And even if I did like Alexsandr, which I’m not saying I do, I wouldn’t use a spell to win his heart. I’d be able to do that much on my own.”

Cassian snorted. “So, you’re wooing him with gifts and all kinds of beautiful things? We don’t even have that much to begin with, Zeb. What if he doesn’t even know that you’re spending this kind of money on him?”

“We have enough. And he’ll be pulling his weight in drachmae soon enough,” Zeb promised, tucking the sturdy but comfortable fabric in his bag along with his small pocket of drachmae. “The way I remember it, you spent your share of the last bounty on that seer? The one who was going to tell you about your true love?”

“Oh, now you shut up!” Cassian snapped, pushing himself back onto his horse and shaking out his long hair.

Zeb followed suit on his own hair and sighed. “I’m just saying! You can’t judge me for how I spend my money and not expect me to do the same to you.”

“At least I have a chance with my true love. Alexsandr says he’s from the stars. He’s no ordinary mortal, Zeb. There is something off about him, and not just because of how we met him.” Cassian said, the warning veiled in his usual good nature and humor.

It wasn’t that Cassian was wrong. Because he wasn’t, as Zeb knew. The problem was, Cassian had struck a nerve, seeking out and targeting a very real fear of Zeb’s. Compared to a brilliantly handsome and practically alien man, what did Zeb even have to offer the warrior from the stars, who claimed to see places light years ahead of any advancement from Zeb’s own world.

He feared the answer was Cassian’s suggestion: nothing. 

“I think I liked you better when you were teasing me for liking him, not accusing me of going after someone out of my league, Cassian.” Zeb snapped, sending his horse into a gallop and leaving before Cassian could get a word in otherwise, knowing there would be plenty of other things the sea god’s idiot son would be able to talk about with his damn horse.

Chapter Text

After the fourth drunken man stumbled up to the horse and reached for Kallus’s ankle, Kallus seriously considered saying something. Even after Alethea pulled a short blade from her hip and smacked the offending man with the hilt of her blade, a hint of green caught in the edge of her blade and reflected colored light into Kallus’s eyes. 

Well aware he stood out the more people he saw, and that he was drawing attention to them both, Kallus’s guilt reared his head once more. All of this was his fault. None of this bizarre misadventure would have ever come to fruition if only he’d made sure not to let- Well, not that it mattered anyhow.

As the horse twisted through the mountainous terrain, and through what Kallus realized were rows upon rows of twisted vines and colorful spherical fruits dangling below. None of the workers picked the grapes, but many woven baskets were carried along the path, leaving the many men and women with sweat and oil-slicked skin to stumble to the sides as Alethea guided the horse onwards

Where are we? Kallus wondered.

Alethea, of course, did not answer.

What is this place? Why are we here? Do you know where we’re going?

Kallus sighed. Not loud enough to draw any attention, but enough to release a touch of the tension in his shoulders.

With a demeanor chiller than a blizzard during a night on Hoth, Alethea’s attitude did little for Kallus’s self-esteem. While he knew often the hardships that came with operating as a gun, or in this case: sword, for hire took their toll, Alethea’s silence was a choice, a conscious one she was debating every moment they spent in it.

Though she maintained excellent control, the ever-analytical Kallus caught onto the body language and subtle characteristics of her breathing each time they came across someone new. He’d learned to use his innate ability for reading others before being thrown out of the ISB Academy.

Tension, though Kallus wouldn’t dare ascribe it to something as tangible as worry, much less fear, radiated from her spine into Kallus’s insides, leaving Kallus’s stress to skyrocket. The feeling of being voiceless and at Alethea’s mercy, given her opinion of him (yet to be fully clarified, but no more confidence-inspiring than her glare), did not exactly empower the stranded pilot.

When she decided at the last moment to cave, Kallus wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved.

“Alexsandr,” She said.

Kallus nodded, but recalling she couldn’t see him, hummed in acknowledgement.

“Do you know what your name means here?”

“Warrior?”

“Defender of man,” Alethea said. “Do you know what Alethea means?”

“I’m afraid not.”

She sighed, and shook her head, steering the horse up another hill and away from the rows of vines. For a few moments, all Kallus heard was the hoofbeats on dirt roads and the breath of the horse, Alethea, and himself.

“I didn’t think so,” Alethea sighed. “You said you were a warrior?”

“Yes,” Kallus said. “I’m a pilot.”

She snorted. “Not a very good one, apparently.”

“Actually, I am. Most pilots wouldn’t have survived the crash at all.”

“Most pilots don’t have Poseidon’s sons rescuing them,” Alethea said.

Though Kallus ought to have flinched at her words, she didn’t lace them with anger, or accusation. An ethereal shudder of truth sang in her voice, however. Shuddering, Kallus fought to shake off the trance over his mind.

“So, Alexsandr the warrior. When you aren’t crashing into oceans, what does a pilot like you do?”

His face wrinkled up in confusion, and Kallus lifted a brow. “What are you asking me?”

“Your war,” Alethea said. “Tell me about it.”

“What’s there to tell?”

“Well, for one thing, you want to go back to it. Most soldiers want to leave behind pain and bloodshed.” Alethea shrugged. “

“I never said I wanted to return to the war.”

“You’re returning. Or at least attempting to. You are here, after all. You haven’t given up even when you face impossible odds, and you’re not trying to disappear or desert.”

“I’m not a deserter,” Kallus snapped. “The odds aren’t so impossible, if your capabilities are anything to go by.

Alethea shook her head, ducking under a low brach; Kallus followed suit. “You haven’t seen either Zeb or Cassian demonstrate they know anything about your ship. A fighter, that’s what you called it, right?”

“Yes,” Kallus grunted, pushing the bothersome branch away from his face. “A starfighter.”

Alethea’s laughter, sharp and pitched higher, startled Kallus. So different from her usual tone of voice, Kallus wondered how much of her thoughtfulness was a charade and how much of it was real. “Do you fight stars?”

“I fight in the stars. In between them, in different star systems.”

“Alright,” Alethea sighed. Kallus could practically hear the small smile on her face. “So, how do you fight between the stars? With swords?”

“Laser cannons,” Kallus replied. “But I don’t expect that to mean anything to you.”

“Colorful lights across the sky?” Alethea asked. “With fire and lightning?” A part of Kallus wondered how much of her answer was guesswork; even if rationally there was no other explanation for her accuracy. Alethea wouldn’t know a thing about the larger galaxy, Kallus was sure of as much.

“How could you possibly-?”

“It’s just a guess,” Alethea said hastily. “I think you’re right. The words “laser cannon” don’t mean anything to me.”

“I wish I could explain it better, but I don’t know how to. It’s such a part of my life, I haven’t stopped to question the small things. Like that.”

“But you question the bigger things?”

“Usually. Asking questions does come with its fair share of trouble, though. Usually when I disobey an order.”

“Oh, a rebel pilot, then?”

A snort slipped past Kallus’s mouth without him thinking about it. “Oh, you have no idea.”

“But still, you stay,” Alethea insisted. “You have faith in the battle you’re fighting. Not for glory, not for your own gain, but you feel a sense of duty beyond that of just any soldier.”

Kallus sat up straighter and steeled his voice. “Of course, I do. I’m fighting for something I believe in. Aren’t you?”

Over the crest of the mountain between the farm behind Kallus and Alethea, and the open valley ahead, Kallus soaked in the midday sun’s warmth. In the distance, he could see the glimmer of light across the clear blue waters, and ships coming and going as they pleased along the coast of the island. Further still were the silhouettes of other islands, islands Kallus couldn’t quite make out, but saw nonetheless.

He could hear the sound of the distant ocean, and the song of the birds around them. Alethea, however, remained silent as the horse nickered and shifted their weight from leg to leg.

She took in a couple of deep breaths, and once, even tried to speak, but cut herself off. “I think used to. But that was a long time ago. I’ve been a misthios as long as I can remember.”

“And what about when you can’t remember?”

Alethea didn’t answer, and guided the horse onwards, down the hill and onwards, leaving Kallus to flinch and berate himself again and again for his insensitivity.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You only seem like you miss something.”

She stayed silent, and Kallus scolded himself for pressing too hard on the old but painful scars of his companion. “Someone.” Alethea finally said.

“What?” Kallus asked.

“I think- I think I miss someone,” Alethea said softly. “But I don’t know who. Or why.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked,” Kallus said.

“No,” she said lowly. “You shouldn’t have.”

Knowing he’d made a mistake was one thing but wading the treacherous waters of Alethea’s unpredictable trains of thoughts and bizarre lines of questioning, confusing left the world around Kallus spinning relentlessly. He tried to resettle himself on the horse’s back, and Alethea flinched, reaching for her blade and half-unsheathing it before she relaxed.

Kallus winced, “Sorry.”

She heard him, Kallus knew, but Alethea did not reply.

He could have let sleeping dogs lie, no matter the number of heads, or in this case, swords, but according to the words of one of his squadmates, Kallus’s reflex was to press the self-destruct button in just about any given circumstance. This, Kallus realized, was no different.

As soon as Alethea guided the horse into the clearing off the side of the road, one Kallus hadn’t thought to look for, she slipped off the horse and onto her feet as if her legs didn’t ache and she didn’t experience the slightest fatigue.

Kallus almost fell off; whether or not Alethea cared to notice, he didn’t know, but she did make a point of ignoring him. Not one to be deterred, he crossed his arms and flexed his jaw.

“Alethea,” Kallus pressed.

“ What ?” She snapped.

He didn’t let her anger faze him. “How are we going to find transport?”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Cassian, Zeb said you arranged for transport?”

“We did. Don’t worry about it. Ships always need deckhands.” Alethea waved her hand dismissively. “We’re four nomadic workers, looking for passage in exchange for labor. To them, it’s enough. They don’t really question it.”

“Oh, really?” Kallus asked.

“ Really ,” Alethea said.

Kallus, on the other hand, didn’t buy into her theory. “Maybe that is true when you’re carrying a dozen weapons on you at any given time, but I don’t know if the same will go for me. You’re all heavily armed and I’m well, myself, I suppose.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Alethea said

“Don’t you think I stand out a little too much for strangers to not ask questions?”

“Zeb and Cassian are taking care of your wardrobe,” Alethea said. “Trust them. It’s our job to take care of getting off this island.”

“Does wardrobe include at least one weapon?”

“No,” Alethea snapped. “It doesn’t.”

“Then what does it include?”

“Only what you’ll need. We can improve upon it in the future. For now, work with what you have. I’m going down to the docks, and I’m sending you to return the horse to its owner.”

“You don’t own the horses?”

“No,” She said.

Kallus just about choked but kept himself composed only by the thread of his own faded discipline. “So, you rented them?”

“No, we stole them,” Alethea said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Return it to that farm with this note, and you should be fine.”

Kallus plucked the odd scribbling on the piece of flimsi- or was it parchment-? from Alethea’s hand, offered out to him. “You stole the horses?”

“It’s complicated,” Alethea mumbled.

Kallus sighed. “You either stole them or you didn’t. Which is it?”

“We stole them, but never meant to keep them this long,”

“How long?”

“About a day,”

“Great. You’re sending me back with the horses you stole to the person you stole them from.”

“Just the one horse. Cassian and Zeb aren’t here yet.”

“Then how are they returning their horses?”

“Cassian has it covered.” Alethea offered no further explanation.

Looking up from where he patted the horse’s snout, Kallus shook his head slowly. “You don’t like me, do you?”

Alethea scoffed at him. “I don’t know you, Alexsandr. I haven’t decided whether or not I like you.”

“I think you have, even if you don’t know me,” Kallus retorted, with enough force to draw Alethea’s gaze. He only hoped she could see the sincerity in his own. “Prying was wrong, I should have realized as much. I am sorry.”

Alethea nodded once.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t.”

“You don’t have to. There’s nothing to be done about it. What’s in the past is there to stay. For now, we need to focus on getting ourselves across the sea, so just take care of the horse.” Alethea sighed, turning to walk back towards the road. “Please,” She added.

“Of course,” Kallus said.

While it occurred to Kallus later on that Alethea’s intention may have been to guilt trip him into returning the horse, no furious farmers charged him with axes or anything of the sort, He was able to return with only a scratch from snagging his stained sleeve on the splintering wood of the stables, and a farewell pat on the mane of the gentle creature.

He returned to the clearing, staying close to the ground and moving quickly in between the trees, trying to ignore the burn in his feet, or the scratches Kallus knew would come back to sting him later on. When he emerged from the foliage, however, Kallus’s face split into the biggest grin without him realizing it.

“Alexsandr,” Zeb called, standing in the clearing with the two horses that had apparently yet to make an appearance on the farm of their owner.

Kallus continued to grin nonetheless and shook his head. “Zeb! Am I glad to see you.”

“Oh, come on. Alethea isn’t that bad,” Zeb protested, and although he was very firmly in defense of his friend, he was as kind as ever to Kallus. “Once you get to know her, you get to see she’s an incredible person.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Kallus said. “But we just haven’t gotten to that point yet, and I’m fairly certain I was trespassing with her stolen horse in the same clothing none of you seem to be fans of.”

Zeb laughed, a hand brushing against Kallus’s back and shaking his head. “It’s in pieces, Alexsandr.”

While Zeb wasn’t exactly wrong, it did little for Kallus’s self-esteem to look down see his torn khakis and tattered and bloodstained orange shirt. The wounds were long gone, but he shuddered at the memory of what had left behind the lining of red and brown on his clothing.

Zeb interrupted his train of thought by turning to reach into his bag and dig for something, although Kallus wasn’t sure what. “You’ll like this, I think,” Zeb said with a smile Kallus knew he would enjoy regardless of whatever else it was Zeb had in mind.

Still, the statement piqued his curiosity. “What is it?” Kallus asked.

“Wolf pelts trade really well on smaller islands like these,” Zeb explained. “They’re hard to kill, and even harder to get a clean kill, so you keep the pelts intact. So, when there aren’t a lot of hunters skilled enough and wantin’ to take out some of those guys, it drives up the price.”

“You sold it?” Alexsandr asked, bewildered.

Zeb’s hands emerged with a carefully woven piece of cloth, one with stitching so fine Kallus could barely see it, and when he reached out to feel the fabric, he was shocked at how sturdy and comfortable it felt beneath his fingertips. “I traded it, actually.”

“For this?”

Zeb nodded. “Yeah. It’s for you, ya know.”

When Kallus looked up from Zeb to see the hopeful look on his face, and the slight twinge of fear in the demigod’s eyes, he knew he couldn’t even consider asking Zeb to reconsider. “Truly?”

“Well, yeah. He tried to take a piece out of ya, and it’s kinda funny that a piece of him gave this back to you.” Zeb scratched the back of his head.

With a brief but warm laugh, Kallus took the cloth in his hands and it unfolded to reveal the simple design of a tunic, similar to the ones the three demigods wore, but it seemed just a tad nicer than he’d expected. Not so scratchy and coarse on his skin, the clothing was a mix between orange and yellow, one he found he didn’t mind.

Kallus exhaled in disbelief and looked up at Zeb once more. “Zeb, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Zeb winked. “You gonna change so we can get going?”

“I think I will,” Kallus said, when but Zeb made no motion to walk away, he tried to change the subject. “Alethea said something about Cassian tending to the horses?”

Zeb nodded. “Yeah, he is.”

“Alright then.” Kallus scolded himself for not outwardly saying what it was he wanted, and from the cheerful look Zeb was wearing, Kallus would have little choice besides a sharp firm kick of the kind, generous man. “I’m going to get changed into this, then. I don’t want to hold you or the others up.”

“Need some help?” Zeb offered, but Kallus shook his head.

The words, while as gentle as he could think to make them, likely still hurt. “I think I can get changed on my own.”

Kallus didn’t miss the disappointment on Zeb’s face, even when he carted it and himself away in a hurry. “Right, well, I’m just, gonna go over here then.”

With the easily found guilt at pushing Zeb away, he watched Zeb’s retreating back with no small amount of guilt. Kallus sighed and took the opportunity to pull off his shirt, and try to rearrange the tunic in such a fashion he could find which part of his body was intended to where, but the rope, some sort of belt, dangled in front of him as if to taunt him.

“Actually, Zeb, I’d appreciate it if you could stay,” Kallus admitted. “I’ve never worn one of these before, and considering you skinned the wolf, it’d be fitting to replace what it took from me.”

Turning over his shoulder to look back at Kallus, those same gentle hopeful eyes meeting his, Zeb smiled. “Yeah, ya think so?”

Shirtless and standing in the open, Kallus blushed furiously and tried to ignore the heat of his skin in favor of the man in front of him. “I do.”

“Alright then,” Zeb said, taking the tunic in his hands. He nudged the bloody orange shirt with his sandal-covered foot and stood in the grass in front of Kallus as he arranged the fabric to better fit over Kallus’s head. From the close vicinity between them, Kallus realized the tiniest hint of pink between Zeb’s teeth was the tip of his tongue. Shuddering, he fought to banish any and all thoughts beyond that from his mind, though he was hardly successful.

One nod from Kallus, and Zeb tugged the tunic over his head. One large hand reached to guide Kallus’s through it, and as soon as those fingers touched Kallus’s, the sparks returned. Darting from the face Zeb made as he concentrated, Kallus’s eyes followed the feeling of that touch up the skin of his arm. He fought the urge to whine when Zeb no longer touched his skin.

Kallus reached down under the tunic to weave his thumbs through the belt loops and tug, the battle-scarred khakis making their way from his body and to the ground. There, orange and tan met again in the grass beneath their feet.

Zeb’s hands reached around the back of Kallus’s waist and even through the fabric, Kallus could tell they were as warm as ever. The braided rope twisted around his hips and when Zeb pulled to knot it, he tugged on either end and brought Kallus stumbling forwards to collide with Zeb’s chest again. One pale hand reached up and wove itself into Zeb’s tunic, but Kallus was too fixed on Zeb’s eyes to notice his hands in Zeb’s clothes.

The tunic fit perfectly, which said more about Zeb than perhaps Zeb even knew. He knew Kallus’s dimensions better than Kallus did, enough to find something in a foreign market that would drape over his body in a way Kallus knew was more than merely functional.

Blinking slowly, Zeb stared down at Kallus long enough to siphon his breath, shallow as it was, and when Zeb grinned, and twisted the braided rope and left the free tassels to dangle from the knot where they came together.

“How’s that feel?” Zeb asked.

Kallus realized he was holding his own breath and sighed. “Fine. Good, no- wonderful. It’s wonderful, thank you Zeb.”

“Yer welcome. But I’m not done yet.” Zeb grinned, backing away to reach for his bag of things.

“I thought Alethea said no weapons?” Kallus asked, lifting his head as he leaned forward to try and make out what it was Zeb had in his hands through the shape of the leather fabric.

“Nah, not yet,” Zeb told Kallus. “You’ve got us, you’ll be fine for now.”

“Then what-?” Kallus began, only for Zeb to cover his mouth with those hands, inciting the same crackles and wash of heat.

“Sit down,” Zeb said, but when Kallus didn’t move, Zeb nodded with his head towards the rock his foot kicked the leather bag off of. “C’mon, it won’t bite.”

Settled on the warm stone surface, Kallus sighed. “Of course, it won’t bite, Zeb. It’s a rock.”

Zeb snorted. “Right, you just go on thinking that, then.”

“Oh, so the rock does bite?”

“Not that one.”

Kallus groaned. Unbelievable, the half-children of deities running around with swords and stolen horses and biting rocks. “I’d rather be safe than sorry. Before this rock decides to take a piece out of me, would you care to show me whatever it is you’re hiding behind your back?”

Zeb winked. “Sure thing, Alexsandr.”

Emerging from behind his back were a pair of sandals, evidently very new sandals, because they lacked the wear and tear of Zeb’s, or Cassians, and the bizarre additions to Alethea’s. “Oh, Zeb.”

“You like them?” Zeb asked, eager eyes darting up to meet Kallus’s softening ones. When Kallus nodded, Zeb’s face split into the biggest grin. Warmth bursting through every distant vein in his body reminded Kallus of the feeling of Zeb’s sun-kissed hands tracing along his skin, but instead from the inside of his heart.

“I do,” Kallus said. “Thank you, Zeb.”

“Just wait until you put them on,” Zeb said eagerly, reaching for one of Kallus’s feet to prop on his ankles. When Kallus nodded, Zeb’s smile widened, fingers lifting up the red, slightly aching skin, only for any trace of the pain to fade away. Zeb angled the sandal and slipped it onto Kallus’s foot, tightening the straps over his pale skin. “How’s that feel?”

“Wonderful,” Kallus repeated, though his lack of imagination left him wondering if he knew any other words to express his gratitude. Apparently not, though Zeb didn’t seem to mind.

“Yeah?”

Kallus’s laughed breathily. “Yes, Zeb. Wonderful.”

“Perfect,” Zeb said, lifting Kallus’s other foot at a nod from the pilot and doing the same thing with the second sandal. “Need a hand up?”

No, but, Kallus smiled wistfully. “I’d appreciate it.”

Zeb nodded, tongue appearing between his teeth as he reached down to clasp the offered forearm before him. Kallus stumbled forwards into Zeb’s grasp, laughing in between the warmth space. At every crackle of their skin’s touch, Kallus watched a flicker of life appear behind those green eyes.

Zeb chuckled. “Hey, there.”

“Hello,” Kallus replied, taking in a deep breath, one he prayed was packed full of the courage he needed. “Zeb, I-”

Never to finish his thought, however, Kallus whipped his head to the side at the sound of a dry tree branch cracking under the step of another living being. Zeb shifted Kallus and moved to stand just in front of him, one battle-worn arm pressing into Kallus’s abdomen and pushing him backwards a step or two.

In a moment, he relaxed, but much to Kallus’s dismay, did not look back at him. Instead, Zeb took a step forward and called out the name of his friend. “Cassian?”

“Zeb!” Cassian shouted in return. “Alethea’s back, she spoke with the ship’s captain. We leave in an hour.”

“An hour?” Zeb frowned, nose wrinkling up at Cassian’s statement as the son of Poseidon stumbled out of the trees covered in thistles and with a few stray branches in his hair.

 “Yeah, that’s what I said.” Cassian groaned. “I am so glad we’re traveling by ship. I don’t know how you do this insane forest-treading thing, Zeb.”

“Don’t you scale mountains and dive to the bottom of the sea floor?” Zeb asked.

Scoffing, Cassian shook his head. “Not the same thing. Trees have teeth.”

“So do half the things living under the water, Cassian.”

“Yeah, but they don’t bite .”

Zeb snorted. “Yes, Cassian, they really do.”

“Whatever, I prefer the ocean.” Cassian brushed off the last of the forest and patted the horse’s flanks. “Head on home, you two.”

Kallus chuckled, crossing his arm, more than a little irritated Cassian had interrupted. “That’s your strategy?” He asked dryly. “Alethea seemed to think you had some sort of brilliant plan for them to return to the stables.”

“No, just a bit of asking nicely.” With a shrug, Cassian patted their sides, and both horses hurried out of the enclosure and towards the small farm without so much as an irritated whinny.

Kallus fought every urge he had to gape, and instead stared across the space uneasily as the still-grinning Cassian. One tanned hand squeezed Kallus’s shoulder as Cassian walked by, with Zeb following just behind his friend. “We’d better get moving, Alexsandr. Look likes a storm’s coming in.”

Snorting, Zeb walked past Kallus and back towards the dirt road. “Since when were you afraid of a storm?” he teased.

“I’m not. Besides, it won’t even touch us,” Cassian shrugged. “It’ll all be fine, you’ll see.”

In the distance, a crack of lightning shuddered over the open sea, turning the dark water to pure light and back to inky blackness as soon as the clouds reclaimed their dark overcast. The resounding boom trapped in Kallus’s ribcage ought to have been from the thunder. It wasn’t.

Chapter Text

Under the cover of a storm that lasted from the moment the group of misthios and Kallus left the island Kos for wherever it is their destination happened to be, Kallus sighed. Gazing up at the scowling captain whose frown only deepened upon making eye contact with Kallus, the pilot shuddered and looked away.

Catching Cassian’s disapproving gaze was perhaps worse.

“What’re you doing?” he asked. “Are you crazy? He already doesn’t like us. Don’t give him any more reminders we’re still around.”

Kallus flinched, and took the end of the rope Cassian offered. “I don’t understand why he doesn’t like us. We haven’t done anything.”

“It’s bad enough you don’t look like just any old man, but the storms won’t let up, and he blames us for them. Says we’re bad luck.”

“But why? I don’t understand.”

“He says we brought the curse of the gods with us onboard his ship, and that Poseidon is determined to sink it and destroy us all.”

Frowning, Kallus stared at Cassian, wrestling with the words at the forefront of his mind. “But didn’t you say that you’re the son-”

Lunging for Kallus to place a cloth wrapped palm over his mouth, Cassian shushed him loudly enough for the sound to catch Zeb’s attention. Across the ship from where he stood with Alethea, Zeb looked between Cassian and Kallus questioningly. Only at a nod from Cassian and, once his mouth was uncovered, Kallus, did Zeb return to his work with Alethea.

With a glare dark enough to remind Kallus of some of his more stern, highly disapproving instructors, Cassian scowled at him. “Do not finish that sentence.”

“Why not? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Not anymore.”

“But-”

Cassian waved his hand to silence Kallus. “Not one word out of you. Just pay attention to what you’re doing, or the captain will be even more upset if we're not working like we’re supposed to.”

Biting his tongue, Kallus fought back the urge to remark the rest of the crew seemed content enough to avoid their work, but bit his tongue, nonetheless. No use making an enemy out of Cassian when everyone else around him acted less than friendly.

Cassian, Kallus realized, acted more at home in the sea than he had any other place Kallus saw him, granted, he didn’t have much frame of reference, but returning to the water, for Cassian, was like breathing. He wondered vaguely if it applied to any form of water, sea or otherwise, frozen or solid, but supposed it didn’t matter. Though the leaves had begun to change colors, and a chill took hold every now and again, no signs of winter whispered at the edges of Kallus’s senses. No frozen water to be seen.

It was no wonder then, that Cassian moved so easily aboard the rocking ship, even as a rugged sailor swung his sword from behind.

Like most good Imperials, former agent, and then pilot-in-training, Kallus had attended combat lessons. Even after his dismissal, and defection, the skills Kallus learned, combined with his own bizarre ability to excel at whatever he put his mind to (which, granted, wasn’t much during his various Academy days, much to Colonel’s Yularen’s disappointment) left Kallus more than capable of defending himself.

When the creak of the ship’s floorboards alerted Kallus to the presence of someone stepping close, he’d ducked just in time for the first swing of his assailant’s blade to sweep through the air above his head.

His training, much to Kallus’s misfortune, did not include combat on rickety old, wooden ships. He hit the deck, hard, and turned onto his back just in time to see Cassian’s attacker unconscious on the boards next to him, and his own tumbling to joint hem both. Kallus felt Cassian’s sure and swift blow to the burly sailor’s face in the shudder underneath the deck when he toppled over.

Scrambling to his feet, Kallus turned to see Zeb and Alethea on the opposite side of the deck, with a number of sailors after them, too.

“Get them, men!” The sneering captain shouted, surely as responsible for the attack as he stood at the helm of the ship.

“See what you’ve done?” Cassian snapped, but when Kallus paid him no heed, Cassian followed Kallus’s gaze and shouted for his friend. “Alethea!”

She turned her head for a second, not one moment more, but without the opportunity to draw her weapon, Alethea caught a blow that sent her stumbling backwards over the edge of the ship and into the water.

Cassian lunged to move across the deck, and Kallus moved to join him when the captain of the ship they’d boarded snatched Kallus by the arm. He had just enough time to see Zeb catch his eye and his expression turn to one of horror, and to watch Cassian’s back as he moved ever closer towards where Alethea had been thrown. Kallus fought the captain’s nail-biting grasp until his the last sensation of something beneath his feet was the low edge of the ship’s deck below his knees. In an instant Kallus’s vision caught only the grey sky above, and he shouted just before tumbling overboard, with each breath of air lost to the spray of salt and rain above his eyes.

It’s beautiful , Kallus thought as lighting cracked above him, the last flash of sight a flicker of white in the green shudder of water all around his body.

Kallus knew before he hit the water that something was wrong. While he knew normally, the splash from impact would send water flying up around him, even when he hadn’t dipped so much as a toe into the cool ocean below, it parted for him to fall below the surface.

At first, Kallus wondered if Cassian had tried somehow to soften the blow, or moved the water for some other reason, but when the water rushed in around his ears and Kallus shouted just before the sky disappeared from his vision, he didn’t do much more thinking. Although the water was clear and the sun was bright, Kallus found he couldn’t see anything, all the water around him was black, and no matter how much he thrashed, Kallus couldn’t seem to find the surface.

He was drowning.

There was no air in his lungs, he’d not thought to breathe in place of shouting, and for the second time in less than a week, Kallus wondered if he ought to spend the rest of his days on a desert planet to avoid risk of ever drowning again. That is, assuming he had any more days to live.

Time was gone. He could’ve been down there for hours, for seconds, but whatever the time spanned nothing seemed to permeate the increasingly chilling grasp around his body as the darkness grew, and the burn in his lungs and throat grew at the first inhale of salt water.

Kallus, sure he was as good as gone, at the mercy of whatever force was so bent on dragging him beneath the surface, did not think much beyond the burst of hope in his chest when the first breath of warmth shot up his arm from where a hand grasped his wrist. The cold disappeared from around his body, and instead warm water surrounded Kallus and pulled him, along with his rescuer, up to the surface.

When Kallus took in his first breath, it was after the sea reclaimed its own. All the water left his lungs. 

“Alexsandr,” he shouted. “Alexsandr, are you alright?”

Blinking the burn of salt water out of his eyes, Kallus frowned. “Zeb?”

“Alexsandr, it’s Cassian,” the demigod insisted. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I- I’m alright,” Kallus frowned at Cassian, whose face was beginning to become clearer again. “Cassian, what was that? The water- it tried to pull me down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, was it you? Did you use your powers to pull me down?”

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything,” Cassian said. “You’re sure it was the water pulling you down? You didn’t forget to swim, did you?”

“I can swim just fine,” Kallus said, eyeing the water apprehensively. “The ocean tried to kill me, Cassian. How is that even possible?”

“I think,” Cassian began, about just as uneasy. “We should get out of the water as quickly as possible.”

“How? Where are we going to go?”

Cassian lifted his hand to point at the distant island just within the extent of Kallus’s view. “The island. It’s the closest land around.”

Staring, wide-eyed and gaping at Cassian, Kallus scoffed. “How do you think we’ll make it all the way over there? And what about Zeb and Alethea?”

“Zeb and Alethea are over there,” Cassian said, pointing towards two distant silhouettes in the water some ways away. “They’re headed for the island, same as us. As long as you stick with me, you’ll be alright. Just don’t let go.”

“Or what?” Kallus asked.

“Or else the ocean will try a whole lot harder to drown you. This time, it might succeed.”

“Right,” Kallus said, unable to keep himself from looking down into the dark water. “I’ll just keep ahold of you, then.”

“Good plan,” Cassian said, and he began to swim. 

If Kallus thought Cassian moved well on the deck of the ship, the grace Cassian possessed in the water stood unmatched, even with the added weight of Kallus’s own body and Cassian’s weapons and armor.

In no time at all, they stumbled through the shallows of the beach and Kallus found himself pulled from the sea by the ever warm Zeb, whose wide eyes and frantic movements left his stomach fluttering, and not just because of the tender brushing of their skin.

“Are you alright?” Zeb asked, one hand clutching Kallus’s shoulder and the other whispering the trace of fingertips over his face and inspecting every inch not covered by blond muttonchops.

“It’s alright, really. If superstitious ship captains are the biggest of our problems, then I would say we’re doing alright.”

“That’s not what I asked, and you know it,” Zeb frowned. “Are you injured? Did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine,” Kallus said as reassuringly as he could for Zeb’s sake. 

It didn’t appease Zeb. “Are you sure? You hit the water funny and I lost track of you until Cassian pulled you out again and- Alexsandr, I’m so sorry.”

“Zeb, it’s alright, I’m alright. He got to me in time. Cassian-”

“Cassian!” Came the furious shout from the last member of their group, the only one who was soaking wet and miserable, and trudging through the shallow water with a scowl on her face. 

Cassian’s eyes widened and he turned over his shoulder to look at Alethea, who was gaining on him rather quickly. “Alethea, it’s not what you think.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“Cassian, that wasn’t nothing,” Alethea snapped. “That was personal. Poseidon is pissed. What did you do?

He scoffed, and stepped back from Alethea. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Well, you clearly didn’t make an offering before we left.”

“There was no reason to,” Cassian said. “I didn’t think he’d actually be mad at me.”

“That’s not what you said on Kos!” Alethea barked.

“I was joking around with you on Kos.”

“Stop fighting. It doesn’t matter,” Zeb snapped, stepping in between the seething Cassian and Alethea. “It’s over.”

“For now, it is. But what about when we try to leave the island? What then?”

“Cassian will make an offering to Poseidon. He’ll apologize for whatever it is he did or didn’t do, and then we’ll leave tomorrow.”

“What if Poseidon tries to kill us again, Zeb?”

Alethea rolled her eyes. “You do love to run to make dear old dad happy. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” While her sarcasm was as sharp as ever, her words were not as full of anger as Kallus had been led to believe. Her smile carried a trace of sincerity, and if Kallus didn’t know any better, he’d have suspected Alethea’s most pressing thought was that no one was injured, or worse when they were thrown overboard.

“Cassian, you’ve dealt with worse,” Zeb reminded him. “You’re not so bad at this kind of stuff. I know you can do it. Alethea will go with you, but it’ll be fine.”

“We’re splitting up, again?” Kallus asked, standing from the rock Zeb seated him on to trudge through the sand and look between the three demigods in shock.

“I thought you said he wasn’t listening.”

Crossing his arms, Kallus shook his head. “The waves don’t drown you out when you’re shouting.”

Alethea shrugged, offering a wry smile in Cassian’s direction. “He has a point, you know.”

“Are you ever going to take my side?”

Alethea hummed, tapping the side of her face as if to consider it, and then smiled sweetly. “No,” she said, making her way up the slope of sand and into the grass. “Come on, Cassian. Let’s go.”

“I like her,” Kallus said. “I wasn’t sure before, but now? She seems different.”

Kallus’s gaze shifted from the other two demigods to fall on Zeb’s face, even if he had yet to look away from his friends.

“Things are a little easier now. The past few days, karabast, even the weeks leading up to us finding you? They were difficult,” Zeb said, watching Cassian and Alethea joke and push one another as they strode up the shore. “I’m just glad you didn’t judge either of them too harshly. It took a little while, but they warmed up to you, just like I said they would.”

Kallus smiled. “I’m glad they did. I don’t know what I would have done if your friends hated me. To put you in that position? Zeb, I don’t know if I could’ve stood it.”

“Well, they like you just fine, especially for a mortal.”

“’For a mortal’?” Kallus echoed. “You mean to say you’re immortal?”

“Nah, just half Olympian, remember?”

Kallus chuckled. “Of course. Poseidon, king of the seas.”

“God of the seas, but yeah, you get the idea.” Shrugging, Zeb turned at the sound of Alethea’s laughter, as she made her way through the

“Are you sure about that?” Kallus asked. “I’m not sure I can quite accept the idea that you’re truly the son of any deity, Olympian or otherwise.”

Zeb chuckled, lifting his hand up to gesture at the storm on the horizon. “Even after all of that? You’re still not sure?”

“I’ve almost drowned before,” Kallus rolled his eyes, looking pointedly from the water at Zeb. “That was not a new experience, and certainly not enough to convince me there are gods roaming this planet.”

Zeb sighed. “Alexsandr, you’re not really trying to tell me that you didn’t feel even a little bit like something was happening?”

“No, Zeb,” Kallus scoffed, more humored than exasperated, even if he stared at Zeb with his head to the side and a half-smile. “I felt like I was drowning. I wasn’t thinking about anything else.”

“Karabast, of course Poseidon himself would try to drag you down to the depths of the sea and you wouldn’t even consider the possibility that there’s something else out there. Maybe not even gods, but something.” Zeb’s frustration bubbled and boiled, leaving Kallus wishing he could make himself smaller. The sheer disappointment carried a far greater shame than Kallus could rationally fathom.

Kallus flinched. He hadn’t meant to so insistently stomp on Zeb’s views, as kind and generous as the demigod had been to him for next to nothing. “I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out, but his hand stopping halfway to Zeb’s scarred arm and withdrawing. “I told you what I believe in, Zeb, but that’s only because I’ve seen it again and again. To ignore it would be foolishness of the highest degree.”

When Zeb’s head turned back and his green eyes found Kallus’s, he reached up to scratch the back of his head. “I mean, I guess I haven’t given you much to go on, just my word, and Cassian’s power. Which you said you’ve seen before, so maybe that wouldn’t be what you believe.”

Kallus, sheepishness skittering away under cracks in stone walls thrown up in his mind, dared to offer a shy smile again. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be. There are a lot of skeptics, and a lot of people who believe in that kind of stuff aren’t the ones you’d want to chase after you.” Ruffling his slightly damp locks with his hand, Zeb returned the smile and looked down at Kallus. With a face like that, Kallus thought, it was a wonder Zeb would ever think twice about humoring someone like him.

“I wish I could just accept it, and move on, but Zeb that isn’t who I am,” Kallus admitted. “Believe me, I really truly wish I was, but I am just not capable of blind faith.”

Zeb’s smile stayed gentle, and the hand slipped from his own hair into Kallus’s shorter red-blond locks to brush the stray strands from his eyes. Not noticing them himself before, Kallus’s mind wandered, leaving him to lean ever so slightly into the faint trickle of skin over his face.

“I can help with that,” Zeb said, and just as he did, Kallus caught a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye.

Whipping his head to the side to try and find the source of the color, Kallus saw nothing. “What was that?”

“Relax, you’re fine,” Zeb said. “Trick of the light.”

Narrowing his eyes, Kallus turned to look back at Zeb, but with one hand behind his back, the demigod’s slight mischievous flicker did not convince Kallus at all. “Zeb, what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Zeb said, but the lingering stress on the word carried more truth than its meaning. “Trust me, you said you wanted to see it.”

Kallus’s mouth opened and he spoke slowly, searching for the right words. A blush crept into his cheeks against his will, leaving Kallus to gape, standing as close as he was to Zeb. “I- don’t know that I used those words exactly, Zeb.”

“Sure, you did. Or at least you meant to,” Zeb winked. “Trust me, alright?”

“I- suppose I could,” Kallus said, shrugging helplessly. “What exactly are you showing me?”

With a laugh starting deep in his chest, Zeb winked. “Now where’s the fun in telling you that? I thought you wanted to see it, not for me to explain it to you.”

Oh, Zeb had to be teasing him, Kallus knew. There was not much else the expression on his face could mean. “Zeb, I don’t know that this is what I meant.”

“Hey,” Zeb said, backing away and winking. “You said you wanted to see it. Now, you ready?”

Kallus couldn’t tear his eyes away and resigned himself to nodding once. “Why not?”

“Okay,” he winked. “Now, watch this,” Zeb’s hand reappeared from behind his back, and Kallus stood, disarmed of any arguments against what was happening. What Kallus saw tore through the borders of his own reality and left him gaping at what was left in Zeb’s hands.

Gold.

Not the same as the armor Zeb wore, or the helmet forgotten in the sand by their feet, but with hints of red that spoke so much of Kallus’s own hair.

In fact- Kallus reached up to run his fingers through the red-blond tousled strands on his head -had Zeb pulled some from his scalp and Kallus hadn’t noticed? Impossible Kallus reasoned.

And yet, however impossible it seemed, when Zeb flicked his wrist, the light hovering above his palm cracked and expanded, enough Kallus saw the grin split across Zeb’s face through a shimmer of gold and red, and the wink that followed made Kallus inhale sharply.

Returning a neutral expression to his face, Zeb nodded to motion Kallus over where he was standing. Dumbstruck, Kallus walked across the sand and cocked his head. Perhaps gaping wasn’t the most attractive thing he’d ever done, but never had Kallus seen a force-wielder capture and bend light. Not just any light either, but the light, he suspected, was made of the very same rays that cascaded down his hair.

“Zeb, how?” Kallus asked, one hand hesitantly reaching.

Zeb chuckled. “You can touch it, it won’t hurt you. It’s just light.”

“But-?” Kallus dared to brush his fingers, and then the rest of his hand across the edge of the impossible feat before his eyes. “I don’t understand. Zeb, how are you doing this?”

“It’s sunlight, Alexsandr. I can bend sunlight, that’s easy.” Zeb moved his hands and the light with them. It reached out and curled up Kallus’s fingers, weaving under the wrappings of his palm. As bizarre as it sounded, the wriggle of red and gold reminded Kallus of Zeb’s touch, soft, comforting, and bright in a way only an early morning sun was over the horizon and across the expanse of Yavin 4.

Without so much as a care to pull his hand away, Kallus instead turned his palm to face upwards, much like Zeb, and watched as the dancing light reformed around both their forearms. It tugged at both their skin and Kallus watched in awe as where it touched Zeb’s arm, the light picked up streaks of a purple so dark it was near black until it faded into red and gold in a softer lavender color.

Where it tugged, Kallus found Zeb and his hands on one another’s forearms, clasping one another tightly. Looking up at Zeb, Kallus watched those green eyes flick up to meet his, and Zeb grinned, blinking slowly at Kallus. Certain he was returning the flutter of eyelashes, Kallus chuckled in near disbelief.

For a moment, everything was perfect.

And then it crackled and died, the light splintering and dissolving into the air from whence it came, biting both his and Zeb’s skin.

He stumbled backwards as if his hand had been burned, and yelped. Kallus’s eyes widened and his opposing hand flew back just in time to catch him before he fell onto and collided with the rocks behind him. When he finally lifted his stinging arm up to inspect his skin, Kallus saw nothing. No marks, no streaks, and not a single hint of the burn that’d seared somehow below the surface of his pale skin.

“Zeb!” Kallus shouted, looking up from his arm to stare down the demigod.

Zeb lifted up his hand to cover his mouth and snorted despite attempts to stifle his laughter.

“It’s not funny!”

“Actually, Alex,” Zeb continued to laugh. “It is pretty funny; you have to admit.”

“No, I don’t! What was that?” Demanding an answer may not have been his best bet, Kallus realized, because Zeb bent over and started laughing harder.

“Oh, if either of them saw the look on your face?” Zeb managed to choke out. “Alex, it was priceless.”

Kallus groaned, shaking his head as he watched Zeb continue to chortle. Looking up from where he pressed his temple into his hand, and resigned to the mostly undeniable gaiety of the situation Kallus smiled regardless of his now rapidly-fading shock. “Zeb, you’re insufferable, I hope you know that.”

Whether or not Zeb heard him was another matter altogether, because as he took deep breaths to try and calm himself, whether for Kallus’s sake or his aching side, neither guessed.

Zeb’s laughter died down, but his smile remained, broad enough Kallus could see almost every tooth in his mouth, even if he ought not to have been staring at Zeb’s mouth in the first place. Looking up at Zeb’s eyes again, Kallus found himself wishing he’d thought to not stare at Zeb at all, even as his mind suggested he ought to have taken more opportunities to stare.

What’s even so wonderful about him anyways? Kallus thought. I suppose his smile isn’t half bad, and his clothing suits him rather well. The staff is a nice touch, although the sight of him with a bow?

Kallus inhaled sharply.

Zeb slinked towards him, still smiling, affording Kallus the blessed opportunity to actually watch his muscles ripple beneath the scarred skin of his arms. Whatever claws that left stripes down his skin only made Zeb all the more attractive. A warrior, Kallus mused, and a fearsome one at that.

“Sorry,” Zeb said, crouching before where Kallus was sitting on the beach’s rocks.

“No, I apologize. I shouldn’t have reacted so childishly,” Kallus rolled his eyes. A faint streak of color dared to betray him so close to Zeb, and he willed hit away as best he could, clearing his throat as he leaned forwards to improve his posture. Not, as he reminded himself rather insistently, to draw any nearer to the demigod in front of him.

Zeb reached out for Kallus’s arm, strong hands somehow open and inviting, gentler than any man his size had any business being towards Kallus, and yet- “Are you hurt?” he asked, waiting for, not grasping, Kallus’s arm.

Opening his mouth only for no sound to come out other than a pitiful whisper of air Kallus struggled to find anything remotely intelligent to respond with. An involuntary force eased the formerly singed arm into Zeb’s touch, causing gentler crackles and the same tracing of warmth over his skin from the curling light.

Zeb turned it over in his own two hands, inspecting every inch of freckled skin for any marking left behind. Kallus suspected Zeb knew very well there would be none, and he was more than familiar with the limits of his (dare Kallus say as much out loud) powers, but the simple act of Zeb searching, caring, even weighing the possibility Kallus’s concerns were not unfounded stunned him.

“I don’t know that I am, no,” Kallus admitted. “I suppose I was more surprised than anything?”

Zeb’s gaze darted upwards from his downturned head. “You sure? I lost my focus for a moment there, not sure if that really did hurt you.”

Swallowing thickly, Kallus nodded. “I don’t believe you did. I may have overreacted.”

“Nah,” Zeb waved one hand dismissively. “It’s not exactly like you see stuff like that every day, much less feel it, no matter what kind of Jeddy you run around with.”

Biting his lower lip, Kallus nodded. Even without the desire to fracture whatever moment either of them was experiencing, Kallus did not dare consider correcting the term. “Thank you.”

Zeb tilted his head upwards and he grinned at Kallus. “For what?”

“Listening. Showing me… whatever that was,” he said. ‘ Caring,’ tempted Kallus oh so potently, dangling the tantalizing feel of Zeb’s touch in front of his eyes, among other things flitting about his thoughts. With one arm still in Zeb’s grasp, Kallus tried to convince himself it was enough; he didn’t need to seek out anything more than he already had.

Zeb did reach for him, and before Kallus knew it, he and Zeb were tumbling behind the gathering of rocks and into the beach behind them. Colliding with the sand headfirst, Kallus shouted in surprise, just as the rest of his body followed, with a grunt. “Zeb!”

“Shh,” Zeb said, having landed on his feet with significantly more grace and poise than Kallus.

“Zeb, what are you doing?” Kallus hissed, pushing himself up on his forearms and turning to crouch next to the demigod. One hand reached down and pressed on Kallus’s bright red-blond head to move below the rock line.

Something wet and warm trickled through his hair. Kallus reached up to feel for whatever it was– sweat? he wondered –and rubbed his fingers over his thumb as they came into view of his hand.

Not sweat, Kallus realized, but blood.

Blood? He hadn’t been struck, and the sand had luckily been rock-free where Kallus had landed. Then where-?

Kallus’s eyes landed on Zeb’s hand, the hand Zeb pushed his head down with, and watched the same blood cascading down his tanned skin. Kallus swallowed thickly, eyes moving up Zeb’s arm to see the arrow in his forearm, having gone clean through the bracer Zeb wore and breaking the other side of his skin.

“Zeb,” Kallus breathed in disbelief. “Zeb, your arm.”

Not even glancing down to look at it, Zeb dismissed him. “It’s nothing.”

Kallus’s apprehension vanished, he grasped Zeb’s forearm and tugged Zeb below the line of rocks by the wrist. When Zeb gasped in pain, and finally looked down at his arm, his eyes widened. “Aw, Karabast.”

“Karabast?” Kallus echoed. “What do you mean, Karabast?”

“That hurts, Alex. Don’t pull on it!”

“Where did it come from?”

Zeb unfastened his bracer and scowled. “Where do you think? An archer.”

“Archer? Why would they shoot you?” Kallus demanded.

Zeb grit his teeth and grasped the shaft of the arrow near the pointed metal head and grimaced. And then he pulled.

Everything about any sort of basic medical training in Kallus’s mind screamed with him. “No! Kallus said, scrambling to reach out and stop Zeb, but he was too late. “Zeb, what is wrong with you?

Giving the arrow a glance so packed with fury, it sent a trickle of fear down in Kallus’s spine, Zeb tossed it away from them and spat out his next words in an anger that silenced Kallus. “Aels.”

“Eels?” Kallus asked. “I thought they lived in the water. What do you mean an eel shot you?”

If the world was inhabited by sentient aquatic life, then of course it would make sense for said eels to be capable of using a bow and arrow accurately, but how would it make sense for a wooden arrow to be crafted by someone who lived underwater?

“No, not those eels, Aels,”

“I don’t understand.”

Zeb sighed. “It’s a nickname for demigod killers.”

“Demigod killers? Zeb-!”

“Shh,” Zeb’s non-blood covered hand flew up to cover Kallus’s mouth. “He’s still out there.

Where Zeb braced himself in the sand with his free hand, Kallus watched the multicolored grains of sand lose their golden hue, replaced instead by the steady trickle of a dark red oozing down from Zeb’s fingertips and the slope of the beach.

“ Malaka ,” Zeb snarled, reaching over his shoulder to pull free his bow and notch an arrow. “Don’t move. I’m going to go around and get him.”

“You can’t possibly take out that archer,” Kallus insisted. “We don’t even know where the shot came from.”

“You might not,” Zeb shrugged. “But I do.”

Kallus lifted an eyebrow. Impossible , he dared to think again, but as recent memory reminded him, Zeb was capable of something far more difficult than locating an archer. “Another demigod ability, I assume.”

Zeb waved his hand, so-so.

Knowing Zeb and the other demigods were capable warriors soothed Kallus’s concerns, and yet. “You’re injured. I thought you said you were capable of healing.”

Shaking his head, Zeb sighed, and gave the arrow shimmering in the sand nearby a glance. “Not from an arrow like that. Not so soon. It’s dipped in the sap of a plant grown in the underworld. Meant to drain me of my powers and then the next shot would kill me. Don’t let them hit you. They’ll kill you immediately, since you’re a mortal.”

“And you aren’t?”

“Usually,” Zeb winked, but before Kallus could argue that the very fact he was in danger of being killed meant Zeb was, in fact, not immortal, Zeb disappeared into the trees, crouched low to the ground.

To disrupt his focus now would mean destroying what little advantage Zeb had over the alleged “Aels” and as much as Kallus did not desire being left behind, not again.

Eyes darting across the expanse of trees, a sinking feeling in his stomach told Kallus once more he was not alone. As easy as it was to dismiss his apprehension as paranoia, Kallus knew very well it would be beyond foolish to do so. Zeb left no weapons behind, and though he considered reaching for the arrow, the whisper of Zeb’s voice in his mind cried for him not to.

Kallus eyed the arrow, and his own wrapped hands, but when he squinted hard enough, he could not only see the sheen of Zeb’s blood, but a sickly oozing substance trickling out of the broken arrow.

The hairs stood up on the back of his neck and Kallus rolled away before he so much as thought about it. The blade of his attacker collided with the sand, sending red and gold flying up at his feet and coating the silver, same oddly shimmering metal surface.

Given the options talking or fighting, Kallus decided rather quickly he chose to fight. Before the Ael freed his sword, Kallus kicked his wrist and knocked the blade free.

Out of the corner of his eye behind the Ael Kallus faced, he caught a flash of metal, the archer, he realized, and reached for the Ael.

Grabbed and twisted, Kallus’s arm was stuck firmly behind his back, and the Ael’s knee collided with his chest twice.

Even as he gasped and wheezed for breath, Kallus unraveled himself as best he could and returned the blow, striking his opponent in the neck.

“NO!” Kallus heard Zeb shout, and out of nowhere, he appeared from amongst the green, freeing his arrow only a second too late.

When the blood splattered across Kallus’s face, he blinked slowly, and wondered vaguely when he’d been hit. Recalling the whoosh of the arrow and the sound of it eviscerating skin and flesh, Kallus’s grip went slack and he released the Eal, stumbling backwards and searching for the arrow. 

Where was it? Where was it?

The groan and pitiful cry of the Eal, followed by him crumpling to the ground gave Kallus his answer.

Watching in horror, Kallus saw his entire body wrinkle and hiss, losing any inkling of color and singeing from the inside out, right where the arrow struck him.

The blood, Kallus realized, was not his own.

He hit the beach on his knees at the sheer relief.

“ Alex !” Zeb shouted, rushing through the trees, bow in hand, and another arrow notched and ready. The demigod leapt over the rocks and rushed over to Kallus, making sure the Ael was down and dropping the bow to reach for Kallus, covered in blood. “Karabast, Alex, talk to me. Are you okay?”

Kallus looked up from his blood smeared hands and the wrappings that were now tainted with the stuff. His expression shifted from stunned to relieved right to furious.

Chapter Text

“I can explain,” Zeb said. “It’s not that simple, Alexsandr.”

“Isn’t it?” Kallus retorted. “Zeb, there are either a bunch of homicidal maniacs who want you dead or there aren’t! It’s not that complicated!”

Zeb groaned in frustration. “Alexsandr, please.”

“Please what? I have been perfectly happy to do whatever it is you ask of me because you led me to believe I could trust you.”

“And you can trust me!” Zeb insisted, “Yes, I’m a demigod, and yes that grants me powers, but it also grants me status as someone who sees both sides of the same coin.”

“Status as a target, you mean?”

“Not just a target,” Zeb said, knowing he couldn’t deny the truth of Kallus’s words. “The drachma that’s Greece. I see the people and the villages and the farms, but I also see the supernatural, and the monsters that come with it.”

“Monsters? So, not just other people are trying to kill you, but now monsters, too?” As furious as Kallus’s words were, and how deeply the sudden mistrust cut into Zeb’s self-confidence, Zeb couldn’t blame Kallus for being upset.

Learning of his status as a demigod has been devastating. When his mother was killed and Zeb set off into the Greek world trying to make sense of the chaos of his own world, Zeb struggled. Disconnected from both Olympus and humanity, Zeb wandered and fought for his life for years before finding any others of his kind.

Kallus, with little choice, had relied upon and trusted Zeb, and learned of a secret.

“Alexsandr, please , I know you’re upset. It’s not easy. I understand you being upset. Believe me, I’ve struggled with this, and I know you’re angry, but Alex, we aren’t safe here. There are never just a few Aels.”

“The Aels? What does that even mean?”

“I told you. They’re members of the Anti Olympian League. Warriors. Trained and equipped to kill demigods and anyone who stands in their way.”

“I don’t want anything to do with that, Zeb!”

Zeb groaned. 

“Alexsandr, they were coming for you regardless. You fell from the sky, ” Zeb reminded him. “You would’ve drowned, and even if you hadn’t, you would have met a face worse than death. The effects of being struck by a blade or an arrow coated in that poison for you would mean as soon as those Aels got their hands on you, that-” Zeb pointed down at the crisp Ael “-Would’ve been your fate.”

“I think I can manage just fine on my own from here on out,” Kallus snapped. “Thank you, for saving my life, but I will figure this out on my own now if you don’t mind.”

Watching Kallus down to snatch up the sword from the ground, Zeb shouted and pulling Kallus backwards. “Are you insane? Don’t touch that!” Zeb cried.

“Zeb, what is wrong with you? Let go of me,” Kallus snapped, yanking his wrist free of Zeb’s grasp, a smear of fingerprints on his freckled skin. 

Zeb reached again, his still bleeding arm smearing on Kallus’s where he grasped the pilot’s arm. “Don’t touch that sword, Alexsandr.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a cursed sword,” Zeb said.

Kallus scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. I don’t have to listen to you, Zeb,” He said coolly, turning to reach once more for the blade when the world gave way.

No sooner had Zeb’s hand twitched to grasp Kallus again than Kallus recoiled, stumbling backwards into Zeb and staring with wide eyes.

“What is that?” Kallus asked, watching green mist curve up from where sand sank into the tear of sand beneath the blade. Zeb did not answer. One skeletal hand reached up to grasp the hilt of the sword, pulling it and a wave of sand down into the sinister glow of green. After the blade disappeared from view, the horrifying screech of what sounded too much like a human being for Zeb’s liking sent Kallus grasping Zeb’s arm.

“Zeb, what are you doing?” Kallus asked. He looked up to meet the demigod’s eyes. Zeb only shook his head slowly and backed away from the crater. It widened and they both watched as the Ael’s body was ripped down below the sand by a dozen skeletal hands the burnt body returning to a horrible green glow as it had the first time he was struck by the arrow.

As his body descended into the green of the earth, Zeb could have sworn he saw the Ael’s head turn to look at them and let loose the same cry as the ones coming from below. Kallus couldn’t seem to tear his eye away. Immediately behind them, Zeb realized just in time to nudge Kallus forwards, the arrow and his discarded bracer were pulled below, too.

Another terrible screaming sound from the ledge where Zeb knew the archer was, accompanied by a streak of green lights, was the only indication the second Ael met the same fate as his companion. The shrieking faded, as did the light, and the only reminder either Zeb or Kallus had that the attack even happened was the drying red on Zeb’s arm and his missing bracer.

At each gentle rush of waves stretching out up the sandy beach, Zeb took a breath, and watched the deathly-still Kallus stare at the place the Ael and his blade disappeared.

“What was that?” Kallus finally asked. He turned around to meet Zeb’s eyes, and his accusatory stare gave the only warning Zeb would receive before his anger grew. “Don’t you dare lie to me about it.”

“I never once lied to you,” Zeb barked. “Don’t you understand? I told you from the beginning. You knew I was a demigod. You’re the one who refused to believe me. I don’t just go around telling anyone who my father is, and I chose to trust you with that, Alex!”

“I don’t believe in demigods or any of that kriffing Force shit! I accept it but I don’t revere it or know what any of it means. You telling me that you are a demigod didn’t mean anything to me! I certainly didn’t know it meant this!”

“Yeah, well, it’s really hard to live up to your expectations when you fall out of the sky and you’re so much better than all of us!”

“I never said I was better than any of you.”

“Well, are you?” Zeb asked.

Kallus scoffed. “No. Just different . We’re different Zeb, and that’s why I didn’t know I signed up for people to try to kill us because for whatever reason, don’t like you because of your heritage. Saying ‘I’m a demigod’ doesn’t mean that to me, or at least it didn’t until all of this happened.”

“You didn’t sign up for this? We signed up to drag you across the mountains so you can fix your flying death machine back to whatever place you’re from and to risk our lives for your war.”

“I never asked you to!”

“You had no problem with Alethea and Cassian risking their lives to fend off attackers drawn in from your crash,” Zeb barked. “Can you honestly tell me that if your enemies, whoever they are, came here, they wouldn’t try to kill us because we were helping you?”

Kallus clenched his jaw and scowled. “No. But they never would because this planet is too remote.”

“You’re missing the point,” Zeb said. “We gave up our last hiding spot and exposed ourselves to help you. Not because you asked us to, not because it was easy, but because it was the right thing to do. You don’t get to be angry with me for doing what I believe is right, Alexsandr. And you don’t get to pretend this is all my fault. You crashed here. You said you needed to repair your fighter. You agreed to have us help you. This world being different from the one you’re from was something you put together when you stepped foot on that beach.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“You made your point. And chances are, these weren’t the only two Aels around?”

“No,” Zeb shook his head. “They weren’t. There are always more.”

Kallus sighed. “Then we should go.”

“Alex,” Zeb said, wishing he could string together the words he so desperately craved for Kallus’s ears. “I- you’re right. We need to leave and find the others.”

“Where are they?” Kallus asked.

With any luck, Zeb mused, right where they should be. “The shrine to Poseidon. If we find it, we’ll find them.”

“You don’t know where it is?” Kallus asked. 

Zeb sighed. “Every island is different, but most have a shrine dedicated to the sea god, Poseidon. That’s where they’ll be. Now, come on.”

Without knowing why, disappointment crept into Zeb’s insides when Kallus didn’t argue, or ask any more questions. Silence from Kallus, Zeb decided, was worse than fighting with him. 

Taking in a deep sigh, Alethea looked between their kill, draped over Cassian’s back, and the open doors to the lower level of the temple. A temple of Athena.

Athena. The name was more frustrating to her than to Spartans; Spartans at least didn’t make things too complicated. Spartans just threw spears and killed Athenians

“What is it?” Cassian asked.

Alethea turned her head back and realized she’d been staring into the distance, a habit she often fought tooth and nail. “I don’t know. I feel off . Unbalanced.”

Cassian nudged Alethea, and though she took a step forwards, she caught herself. “Cassian!”

“You seem like you’re standing fine.”

Alethea scoffed, but the same warmth that rose up in her heart every time Cassian offered the only comfort he knew how stretched its fingertips upwards, dancing up her skin until her face lifted into a smile. “It’s different,” she said, fingers twisting around one of her braids. “It’s like when I first met you.”

“I thought you said that went away.”

“Yeah and now it’s back, Cassian,” Alethea said teasingly. “Unlike my patience.”

Cassian nodded solemnly. “I know. Zeb is so obnoxious. I don’t know how you put up with him.”

Gigging, Alethea shoved Cassian back and stepped towards the lower entrance of the smaller temple. “Go apologize to your father before he tries to kill us again.”

“I might just let him,” Cassian said. Knowing she didn’t have to respond to his ridiculous threat, one he’d never be bothered to carry out.

With the skittering of pebbles and the shuffle of sandals on dirt roads fading from her ears, Alethea, facing the large open doors, took in a deep breath and stepped forwards.

When she made her way into the chamber, Alethea braced herself for whatever it was Athena cared for her to hear. Wisdom, Athena insisted, could not be acquired without struggle.

And she just loves to make me struggle . Alethea thought bitterly.

To her relief, however there were other worshippers in the room, kneeling at the foot of the statue and lifting their hands up as they pleaded for wisdom of their own; wisdom Alethea wished she could warn them away from.

Rolling her eyes; she wasn’t willing to wait to speak to the Olympian, Alethea’s effort was enough for at least a few more months, the demigod decided, she turned around and walked out, moving up the hillside to glance over and see if Cassian did what he was supposed to.

The wind caught her breath before her eyes caught sight of Cassian. Unwillingly, her gaze fell on the statue overlooking the island’s town below and watched the fingers curl until they pointed inside the temple once again, this time on the open upper level. Alethea wished she could shake her head, turn her back, but she could not.

Begrudgingly, Alethea took one step after another into the temple doors again, the upper chamber full of offerings and the sunlight pouring in through the open ceiling a warm welcome on the back of her neck. All three sets of doors slammed closed, leaving Alethea to brace herself as she listened to the sound of creaking metal twisting as the idol came to life.

It would not be the first time she looked into the eyes of a metal or stone statue and felt it looking back into her soul, but the experience resembled coming home to a stranger, one whom you shared your home with, your life, but none of your heart.

And nothing about the feeling resembled a mother’s warmth.

Not that Alethea knew anything about the warmth of a mother or knew much about anything besides violence.

“I am a warrior,” she once told Cassian, but nothing about the words lifted a burden from her shoulders. If anything, all her admission accomplished was a mantle she had no choice but to clutch to for her very life, or for the lives of her friends.

Alethea stepped out of the sunlight and into the shadows, leaning against the pillar as soon as the doors slammed closed with a dramatic rush of wind. She glanced down to examine her fingernails in disinterest, playing with the fraying end of a wrapping around the palm of her hand.

“Hello, daughter.”

“I’m not your daughter.”

“You are as much my daughter as I am daughter the of Zeus,” Athena said. “You walk in wisdom, spring from the depths of my mind to combat strategy with your wit.”

“That doesn’t make me your daughter.”

Athena sighed, waving her hand at Alethea and shaking her head. “Arguing this with you is pointless, child. You must know why you’re here.”

“Cassian made Poseidon angry,” Alethea rolled her eyes. “What else is new?”

“For once, Poseidon is not angry with his wayward son.”

“That wayward son is a better man than you’ll ever understand.”

“Bold words from someone who resents him for pulling her from beneath the waves she wished to drown in.”

“The crash was an accident.”

“Was it? Have you suddenly remembered where you came from? Who you are? Why you came to this world?”

A blush trickled behind freckled cheeks and she hung her head, braids dangling over her shoulders. “No.”

“You forget yourself and your past, sky walker.”

“I’m not a Skywalker,” Alethea snapped. “I told you, that’s not my name.”

“Your brother’s name is Skywalker, and yours is not. Do you even remember enough to say that much with absolute certainty? To be true to yourself and your memory?”

“I know that for a fact. I just can’t say why,” Alethea trailed off, her bravado gone, the crushing weight of her own fragmented memory planting its knee in her throat. “Why is Poseidon angry?”

“Alexsandr. The troublesome one.”

“Alexsandr?” Alethea repeated. “He’s harmless. Smitten, maybe, but hardly a good reason for Poseidon to be angry enough to try to kill all of us.”

“His arrival has set into motion events cause for great concern.”

There’s no way. Alethea thought to herself with a frown. “Alexsandr is a good and kind man; all he wants is to return home. He’s proven himself to us.”

“And how much trouble have you encountered since his arrival?” Athena asked. The Olympian did not need to wait and hear Alethea’s answer; she already knew it. “You asked me to find you a safe place to hide, and although I disagreed with your decision, I provided the island of Kos as a safe haven. And what do you do? Risk it all for a Rebellion pilot from the stars.”

“Rebellion pilot?” Alethea echoed. Rebellion , the word echoed in her mind again. Rebellion, the Rebellion.

Arms crossed, Athena rolled her eyes. “Alexsandr.”

“I know,” Alethea said. I just didn’t know he was a pilot for the Rebellion. “The trouble is nothing we can’t handle.”

“Is that so? Can you handle the Aels? You couldn’t before. What makes you think you can survive their onslaught with an inexperienced foreigner to protect?”

“We haven’t seen the Aels in weeks since we lost them on Naxos.”

“Haven’t you?” Athena’s voice lifted up in the way it always did whenever she knew something, and Alethea didn’t. “The fall of Alexsandr will be the undoing of your band of friends. Do not mistake my words for a guise of caution. He is not your ally.”

“You can’t tell me what to do. Not when it comes to this, or him. You’re wrong.”

“Am I? Are you willing to risk your life to prove a point? To defy me out of spite?” Athena asked. “You don’t even like him. Is your life worth it? Is Cassian’s?”

“You leave Cassian out of this! He has nothing to do with any of it.”

“Cassian’s life will be in danger if you choose to ignore my warning, Alethea.”

“You’ll kill my friend out of spite?” Alethea asked. “I thought that was beneath you.”

Athena’s eyes narrowed. “I will not lay one hand on the head of Poseidon’s son. As much as you may choose to doubt my intentions, if you choose to listen, my words will safeguard him and Zeb.”

“And what about Alexsandr?”

“What about him?”

Alethea shuddered under the Olympain’s cold, indifferent voice; knowing Athena’s wrath was only a hair’s breadth from unleashing itself on Kallus’s head.

Alexsandr tucked the stray locks out of his face, only for them to fall back into his eyes again. Berating himself for putting off the haircut until after the mission, Kallus sighed, and turned his attention to Zeb, who pushed onwards through the trees and closer to the sounds of what Kallus suspected was a village.

As it turned out, Zeb would not let any injury stop him, not even a cursed one. 

Bleeding, it seemed, was a flaw shared by him and Zeb. Ignoring it, however, was not a characteristic demigods were impervious to, Kallus noted. They were not immune to cursed weapons, either Kallus reminded himself)Still, adopting the same mentality towards injuries as someone he was furious at, and happening to believe in magic and powers, as opposed to the cosmic force, did little to bolster Kallus’s own confidence. 

As angry as he was, Kallus found he was worried. Worried for not just himself, though the biting fury was no less present in his rib cage, Kallus watched the drying red streak across Zeb’s skin and wished for a flitting moment he could wave it away. 

He, much like Zeb, Kallus realized, had no powers, no means by which he might heal his... whatever Zeb was to Kallus, if anything. 

Heavily armed generous mercenary deity traveling companion? A bit wordy, but the best Kallus could think of on such short notice.

On the far side of the island, Kallus realized, was Cassian, standing in front of a burning fire and what he suspected was the offering for Poseidon, though even with his sharp eyes, at that distance Kallus couldn’t be sure.

Zeb shook his head slowly. “Cassian better have set that up right.”

Kallus wrangled with his own instincts to speak up and his knowledge that doing so might further alienate Zeb. He settled on what he decided was a safe statement, enough to acknowledge that he was still listening, but without berating either of Zeb’s friends. “I’m sure Alethea made sure of as much.”

Scoffing, Zeb gestured towards the open altar. “She’s not with him. I sent them together, specifically because Cassian needed to do this right. Alethea knows how important this is.”

“Alethea,” Kallus called out. She stopped and turned over her shoulder and her eyes narrowed at the sight of Zeb and Kallus arriving at the temple, taking notice of the injury Zeb bore. “Alethea, what happened?”

No sooner had she arrived at Zeb’s side than had Alethea nudged Kallus away, taking her fellow demigod’s arm in hand. Zeb flinched when she pressed on a terrible tear near the sickly green of his skin.

“Are you alright?” Kallus asked.

Looking up from Zeb’s wound with a fury in her eyes, Alethea clenched her jaw and stared down Kallus with an intensity that made him feel small. “Am I alright?” She echoed. “Do you see this? Do you even care? Look at my friend, Alexsandr!”

“Alethea, it’s not his fault.”

“Then who’s fault is it? The Aels never would have found us if not for him.”

“How do you know about the Aels?”

“It doesn’t require a lot of thinking to know who was responsible for an injury like this, Alexsandr. The Aels specialize in poisons for demigods. This is only going to get worse.”

“We don’t have any ambrosia.”

“We’ll find you some. You need it, Zeb.”

“Where can you get ambrosia?”

“It’s impossible to find,” Zeb said. “Even if you did know where to look, it’s dangerous, especially with the Aels out there.”

“How many?”

“Just two that we saw, but you know there are always more.”

“Cassian,” Alethea said, appearing just a few behind steps behind her friend. Though she had made enough noise to let him know someone was coming, he had a tendency to lunge first and ask questions laters. We all do.

He took a moment, breathed in the smell of the salty air and turned to face her. “What’s wrong?”

“Aels. They’re here.”

“Dammit.”

“One of them got Zeb. He’s okay, but powerless, and he’s not getting any better. I think the Curse of the Underworld is spreading.”

“I thought it just numbed our powers.”

“He stuck around when Hades claimed the swords.”

“Like an idiot,” Cassian scoffed. “He knows better. If you’re tethered to the Underworld, you don’t stick around when there’s an open gateway.”

“I think Alexsandr had something to do with it.”

“What, the aels?”

“No, the sticking around,” Alethea sighed. “I spoke with her?”

“Her as in her? ” Cassian asked, lifting a brow. “Let me guess, went like it usually does?”

“Worse.”

Cassian groaned. “Alethea,”

“I know, Cassian. But sometimes she’s wrong.”

“No, sometimes she says things you don’t like to hear. Poseidon is already angry with me. We don’t need her upset with you, too.”

“That’s not why we disagreed. Poseidon isn’t angry with you.”

“And how do you know that? Our parents aren’t usually on speaking terms.”

“Right now, they are. All of the Olympians are. They all agree on one thing.”

“That is never good.”

“No. It’s not.”

Zeb watched as the conversation-turned-argument between his friends escalated, and though the sound did not carry enough for even his keen senses to pick up on, both of them were upset. If the glances Kallus’s way were any indication of as much, he was in for something of a treat.

Fuming, Cassian stormed away from the edge of the island’s edge and the dance of the spray of the foaming sea’s crashes against the rocky cliffs. “Cassian!” Alethea pleaded, “Cassian, wait!”

He moved past Zeb and continued onwards, along the cliff’s edge on a beeline towards Kallus.

“Come on, you,” Cassian said, jerking his head to motion for Kallus to move. To his credit, Kallus only scrambled for a moment and followed after Cassian, who didn’t even bother to hide his bad mood.

Alethea appeared at Zeb’s side with an apologetic sigh. “I’m sorry. He’s- it’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?”

“Yes, but this is different,” Alethea said. “Zeb, let’s just do. The ambrosia alone won’t do it. We need a couple of things from the marketplace to fix you up.”

“I can’t exactly walk in there with an injury like this,” Zeb reminded her. “It makes me more than a target.”

“Right,” Alethea said. “Unwrap your hand and give the binding to me. I’ll hide it as best I can.”

“Don’t touch it,” Zeb reminded her. “Unless you want to deal with this yourself.”

“I know. I won’t touch it. Just hold still,” Alethea said, nimble fingers pulling the strip of fabric taut and beginning its dance over Zeb’s rather large forearm. The wrapping wouldn’t be perfect, but it would get the job done. Even then, she watched the snaking green creep up Zeb’s arm just below the edge of the fabric covering, and she sighed. “We should hurry.”

“Right,” Zeb said. “Hey, Alethea.”

“Hmm?”

“We won’t find Alex’s body somewhere in the forest when Cassian comes back, will we?”

“I don’t think we’d find it if Cassian did decide to kill him, but that’s not what it’s about,” Alethea scratched the top of her head, tucking her braids behind her ears and pulling up the maroon wrap overtop of her colorful hair. “Let’s get what we need and leave. I think I know where to find some ambrosia.”

Chapter Text

Standing in front of the vendor’s stall, Zeb caught the threads of an old and faded memory. Reminded of the warmth of his mother’s hand, and her gentle smile in between exchanges for food and sometimes a handful of sweet berries to go with the fishes and loaves they bought. Though the vendor in question didn’t sell food, the baskets and tapestries caught Zeb’s attention. Aside from being complex handmade things, the woven goods were beautiful to the eyes, more than the ragged shrouds Zeb and Alethea wore.

“Alex doesn’t have a cloak,” Zeb said simply. Head tilted to the side; he searched the colorful cloths for something that might suit their companion.

Alethea appeared by his side, the medicinal herbs and wares in hand. “We don’t have time for you to buy your boyfriend pretty things, Zeb. That arm is getting worse and worse.”

“Just a minute, Alethea.”

“No, now Zeb.”

“Alright, fine, we’re leaving.” Zeb said, but no sooner had he said as much than did a flicker of green to match the color of his eyes caught them. Reaching out for the fluttering fabric, Zeb offered a small smile at the shopkeeper when he realized how soft and study to the touch it was “How much for this?”

“Garazeb, if that arrow doesn’t kill you, I will.”

“Calm down Alethea,” Zeb said, though his voice lacked the same bite as hers. “I’m just looking.”

“You are not just looking,” she said with a roll of her eyes, and scoffed. Zeb ignored the mutters under her breath about idiot lovesick demigods.

“That one is 50 drachmae. A fine gift for any lucky man,” the shopkeeper said with a wink.

Nodding firmly, Zeb reached out for the cloth and lifted it from the wooden ring it was wrapped around. “I’ll take it.”

Even as drachmae and wares changed hands, Zeb couldn’t quite hide his eagerness, tucking the shroud safely away in his bag, along with the few things he’d been tasked with obtaining while Alethea sought out some of the trickier herbs and the like. Clutching their purchases with one hand and their blades with their other, both demigods left the market without so much as a curious pickpocket looking their way.

Although they walked in silence, Zeb didn’t need ears to hear the storm of thoughts trapped in Alethea’s head. With every step, he felt her eyes on the back of his head and sighed, falling into step besides her.

“What?” Zeb asked finally, rolling his eyes at Alethea’s silent stares.

“That shroud’s better than you can afford, Zeb,” she said.

“It’ll be fine. He needs it,” Zeb said with a wave of his hand.

“Garazeb,” Alethea chided.

“I’ll get a good pelt and get the money back, okay?” Zeb snapped. “I don’t want to shortchange him.”

“You’re doing enough as it is,” Alethea said, her exasperation not hidden in the least. “You don’t even know him.”

“We Greeks are known for our hospitality,” Zeb said. His accompanying wink outright dismissed Alethea.

“This goes beyond just hospitality, Zeb, and you know it,” Althea said sternly. “I can’t tell you how to spend your money but please be careful.”

“We have clothes just as nice as these, and none of ours will fit him. Of course, I’m getting him something at least as nice,” Zeb said, rolling his eyes. Honestly, did she just expect him to barely try to do anything to help Kallus out?

“He’s a stranger from another world, Zeb. Does even understand what you’re doing for him?”

“I’d say he does.”

“Really?” Alethea asked. “You took a cursed arrow today, because of him. Does he really understand what that means?”

“I took an arrow because that Ael decided to shoot me. It had nothing to do with Alex, and you know that.”

“Do I? If he hadn’t showed up, we never would have had to leave Kos, and fight for our lives again to get him the help he needs for his starfighter.”

“It’s only for a little while longer. We can go back to the way things were soon.”

“Not soon enough, Zeb. What happens when Alex leaves? When he gets in the starfighter you helped him fix and he leaves us behind? Because that’s what’s going to happen, Zeb. Do you know that?”

“We’ll find somewhere to lay low,” Zeb said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Kos was our last hiding place. They’ll look for us everywhere until they find us again, Zeb. Athena won’t find us another one.”

“Since when did you care about Athena?”

“I don’t.”

“Really?” Zeb asked. “Then why’ve you been acting all weird since you visited her shrine? Did she say something to you?”

“When have I ever been able to get her to say anything to me?” Alethea retorted, narrowly avoiding Zeb’s gaze. It only makes sense she wouldn’t help us hide again, not when she was so against it the first time.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“And you didn’t answer mine,” Alethea snapped. “He is leaving this world, Zeb. One way or another, Alexsandr will turn his back on you, no matter how many pretty things you buy him. He’s not from here; he doesn’t belong here.”

Zeb scowled. “Aw, shut up, Alethea.”

Although she didn’t say anything more, Zeb’s mind provided a thousand more words than the sound of her voice would have, and he fiddled with the shroud in his bag the rest of their journey along that dirt road.

Cassian’s shout across the open air went hand in hand with the terrible ring of metal colliding.

What little warning Cassian received went to tossing Kallus out of harm’s way, and to drawing his blade. The sword glimmered in the sunlight, and though Cassian was not a child of Apollo, it was not a bad look on him all the same.

The ebb and flow of the dance, and Cassian’s spectacular footwork had Kallus (shoved behind yet another rock while the demigod fought off the Aels) staring. For the first few moments, Kallus may have been tempted to forget Zeb’s name, so caught up in the flurry of movements, he almost didn’t think to defend himself.

That changed when he struck the Ael sneaking up from behind him in the throat with the side of his hand, and in the gut with his sandaled foot. Cassian, to his credit, was only mildly surprised when Kallus jumped into the skirmish and tossed Kallus a small blade in between movements. Not wholly unarmed, the Aels, though powerful warriors, found themselves in for a bit of a nasty surprise, as both Cassian and Kallus tore through the warriors coming from nowhere.

Well suited as they were to the task, both demigod and mortal man realized soon enough no matter how skillfully they cut through the defenses of one Ael, another readily stood to defend the stumbling warrior, and lunge for either Kallus or Cassian’s throats while they were at it.

Finally, just as Kallus’s arms began to ache and Cassian’s blade twisted less quickly in his grasp, one of the Aels met her end, and before her body hit the ground, Kallus and Cassian rushed through the gap in the perimeter around them. Arrows whizzed past their heads, but Cassian tumbled down the face of the island and through the trees out to the open reaching rock over the sea below, with Kallus not far behind him.

Cassian reached back and seized Kallus by the wrist, but before Kallus thought to yell for Cassian to let go, the demigod shouted: “Jump!”

Kallus did not so much as jump as he did stumble off the edge of the cliff and hurtle through the air down towards the water. Though he feared the distinct threat of his back scraping against the rock and his head colliding with the unforgiving cliff’s edge, Kallus knew from experience all he could do was let gravity claim him, and so it did.

The water’s echoing sound as it collided with the rocks below grew from a whisper to a deafening cry just before a rush of air flew up above his head, and Kallus’s body plunged below the water. To his relief, the sea did not try to kill him again, and instead, before Kallus took in his first breath of salty blue, Cassian took his hand again. When Kallus breathed, his lungs opened and his eyes snapped open.

He had trouble breathing.

“Don’t freak out,” Cassian said, at which Kallus’s eyes fluttered open, without the burn of the water, and deafening silence of an empty ocean for either his eyes or ears. “And don’t let go.”

Kallus gaped soundlessly.

“Are you okay?” Cassian asked. “They didn’t get you, did they? You’re not half Olympian, so if they get you, you’re done for.”

Kallus shook his head.

“What? You’re shaking your head; what do you mean?” Cassian pressed. “Just say it out loud. Are you hurt?”

“No,” Kallus replied, though his eyes widened at the sound and he recoiled as far as he could with Cassian keeping a death grip on his arm.

Laughing in a mix of what Kallus suspected was relief and giddiness, Cassian shook his head, long black hair lifting upwards at the movement. “I know, believe me. It’s weird. Zeb and Alethea have told me a thousand times.”

“How?” Kallus managed. “This doesn’t make any sense?”

“It doesn’t have to, but if you don’t let go, you’ll be alright. Blessing of the son of the sea god and all that,” Cassian said with a wave of his hand. “Just trust me. It’s better we move down here than be chased up there. This island is swarming with Aels. It isn’t safe.”

“You never told me where we were going.”

“Meeting up with Alethea and Zeb,” Cassian said.

Kallus made a bizarre and perplexed face. “Why did we ever split up to begin with?”

“We were the distraction, but Alethea had to get Zeb to the flower grove in the caves,” Cassian said, leading Kallus deeper into the water where less and less sunlight reached. If not for the demigod’s guidance, Kallus was certain he’d have collided with a number of submerged structures. “She and I agreed to travel with a ship commander docked on the far side of the island, but we couldn’t lead those malakas over there. Your hair’s hard to miss.”

“So I was the bait,” Kallus shook his head, even as his own free falling red blond locks dusted his eyelids. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know you could fight. I thought you would scream like a little girl.” Cassian paused, staring 

Kallus rolled his eyes, but fell silent again.

Of course, Cassian assured Kallus he could breathe just fine with the son of the sea god’s blessing, but it was still daunting to take in the water and exhale it as if he were breathing air. Cassian seemed far more comfortable than Kallus was during their underwater trek, but that was impossible, if not insane. There were no rebreathers and no ways for this to logically be happening, but there were a number of things he hadn’t been able to explain since crashing on this Greek world.

“You doing alright?” Cassian asked. 

Kallus shrugged. 

With a laugh, Cassian gave him a teasing look. “You can still talk, you know.”

“Yes, but it’s quite, um, uncomfortable.”

“It takes some getting used to. Zeb hates it, but Alethea loves the water. She’d spend the rest of her days down here if she could, I guarantee it.”

“Aren’t your parents rivals?”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. Besides, she’s clever and I’m resourceful. We make a pretty good team.”

“What about Zeb?”

“Zeb is kind of a loner. He’s in charge, sure, but I haven’t seen him connect with anyone the way he has with you. It’s kind of scary.”

“He seems perfectly amicable towards everyone, not just me.”

Cassian pulled Kallus under a rock formation and deeper still into the waters. “He’s nice, just distant. I don’t blame him for it, but we’re glad you crashed here. I’ve never seen him open up this quickly to anyone, much less a stranger. I didn’t even know that stuff about his family until years after we met. It just wasn’t something he shared.”

“I never asked for him to do this.”

“Nah, I don’t think he’s even aware of it. But there’s something about you. Something crazier than crashing from the sky and fighting like a maniac. It’s like he knows you somehow.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Nah, I’ve seen it before. Some people, they just click. There’s really no rhyme or reason to it,” Cassian shrugged. “Which is why I’m worried.”

“Worried?”

They were swimming upwards, and Kallus’s long hair was floating freely in the water when Cassian stopped him several meters shy of the surface. “I don’t want you to hurt him.”

“Hurt him? How could I even consider doing so?”

“People are awful, Alexsandr. They cheat and lie and steal, and Zeb is usually pretty good at taking care of himself, but you broke down all his barriers within a week. A week. That’s unheard of, especially for a misthios like him.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Look, I don’t mean to scare you, but for as much as you know about Zeb, Alethea and I know that much more. And he’s got more than his fair share of pain. I won’t let you add to that.”

“I would never try to do so.”

“Yeah, but what about when you leave? Zeb is my friend, he’s saved my life a hundred times, and we’ve fought together for longer than most.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Zeb is getting attached. I don’t want to lose my friend because he has too big of a heart to keep himself from getting attached. He’s one of my closest companions. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I haven’t promised him anything.”

“You’re missing the point.”

“What? What’s the point?” 

“He likes you. Like, really likes you. If you don’t feel the same way, don’t lead him on. I mean it. It’ll break his heart. I can’t watch him go through that again.”

“Who broke his heart the last time?”

“Another demigod. He was a good guy, and a lot like you. But young and reckless. His death broke Zeb, Alexsandr. You can’t just barrel into his life and rush out like some sort of wind, you hear me? Zeb deserves better, and if you’re not willing to give it to him, get the hell away before you do any more damage.”

“Garazeb has become very important to me in a short amount of time but I know that he is not fragile.”

“If you hurt him, I’ll drag you to the bottom of the ocean and leave you there.”

“Cassian,” Alexsandr said pleadingly, only for the demigod to let go of his hand and rush towards the surface. It was then he realized he couldn’t breathe. 

Kallus broke the water’s surface some distance from the shoreline, but was relieved to see the trio of demigods on the beach waiting for him. Cassian was in deep conversation with Alethea, Ah, so they planned this . Zeb, however, was waiting near the water’s edge, and waved when he saw Kallus appear. It took some time, but he was able to swim to the beach and make it out of the water.

Zeb grinned cheekily, and pulled Kallus out of the water, that same warmth emanating from his hands, enough the faint touch began steaming the water from Kallus’s skin and clothing. “Hey, how was it?”

“Not bad. Cassian’s a capable guide and a quality companion. I was in good hands.”

“I can’t believe he ditched you.”

“I survived,” Kallus said dryly. “Don’t worry about me.”

Zeb frowned, but shrugged, he reached around to shuffle a few things around and attempt to pull one of them from his bag. “I got you something.”

Kallus’s heart fluttered. “Zeb, you don’t have to do that, it doesn’t matter,” he said, ready to protest, but at the finger pressed to his lips, and the eagerness in Zeb’s eyes, Kallus silenced himself. 

“What matters is that you’re okay,” Zeb breathed, trailing his fingertips up the edge of his muttonchops to better hold Kallus’s face. He frowned, as if realizing for the first time Kallus hadn’t shed the sea from his clothes and skin like Cassian could. “And you’re completely soaking, look at you.”

Kallus snorted. “Cassian decided I needed a bath.”

“Obviously. I didn’t realize he was going to take you underwater.”

“Alethea and he planned it, apparently.”

“Oh, are they giving you grief? You didn’t shoot me, the Ael did.”

Kallus froze, for he’d almost forgotten. The Aels. “Right.”

“Right?”

“Of course, I didn’t shoot you. How’s your arm?”

“Better. We found the ambrosia, ground it up. Stopped in a marketplace to get the ingredients we needed, and I saw something in a market stall and,” Zeb said, reaching down into his bag and pulling free a folded up piece of cloth. “I got this for you.”

“Oh, Zeb, you didn’t have to do that,” Kallus said.

“Actually, I did. You’ve got a proper cloak now for the storms. Here, let me help you,” Zeb said, holding the cloth out for inspection, though if the gaping jaw hanging slack from Kallus’s face was any indication, it was more than suitable. “You’re a proper misthios now, one of us.”

At the flick of his wrist, fluttering in the sea breeze was a woven golden and green scarf, much like the one wrapped around Zeb’s shoulders. Kallus watched it dance, and the shift in Zeb’s eyes as he debated something. His lip caught beneath a tooth, Zeb twisted the stretch green around Kallus’s shoulders, watching it fall down his chest, a free section of the wrap pulled over Kallus’s head by nimble fingers.

“There,” Zeb said, “You’ll blend in a little better, then.”

“You think so?”

“Well, it’s better, but I’d say just stick with me to be safe,” Zeb said teasingly.

Kallus nodded. Listening to the continued crash of waves and the steady echo of faraway birds, he fought the urge to look back at Cassian or Alethea, and his eyes flicked up to meet Zeb’s.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I yelled at you, and you were only trying to help,” Kallus said. “Zeb, I just wish you’d told me.”

“I told you I’m a demigod,” Zeb said. “That’s not a small thing, Alex.”

Kallus sighed. “I wish I’d understood what it meant for you. For the way you have to live your life.”

“It’s not nearly as hard for you as it is for me,” Zeb snarled. “You get to walk away. You get to blame me. It’s not your fault.”

“And somehow it’s yours? You didn’t choose this, you never had a say in the matter,” Alex said. “Blaming you for the Aels is no more logical than blaming the sun for being hot.”

Zeb smiled a little at the poorly attempted reference to the sun, but it wasn’t meant to last. His small smiled faded, along with his stiff posture. Slouching seemed wrong. Coming from Zeb, it didn’t make any sense; as if all the strength and goodness in all the worlds, or at least the Greek world Zeb claimed Kallus was on, had gone.

“I know I reacted poorly,” Kallus said, standing in front of Zeb. His head ducked down, Kallus bit his lip and dared to look up at Zeb. 

The demigod was smiling at Kallus, gentle and kind as ever. “You’re fine. I know it’s a lot. It was a lot for me, and anyone who’s ever known has had a hard time with it.”

“Even Alethea and Cassian?”

“On their own? Yeah. It’s just a part of being in between both parts of the Greek world. You get used to it, but it’s not something you just accept. Not without some issues.

“I am sorry. Shouting at you about something you didn’t have control over-”

“But I kind of did. Not over the whole demigod business, but I could have told you everything, not just the parts you wanted to hear.”

Kallus’s face softened, and he fought the urge to return some sort of brushing gesture against Zeb’s scarred skin. “Why didn’t you?”

Watching Zeb sigh shakily, matching his oddly unsteady characteristic smile with sad open eyes, Kallus’s guilt crept upwards. “People leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Kallus said, even as the flinch behind Zeb’s eyes reminded him it was not the truth. “You telling me you were a demigod didn’t send me running for the hills.”

Zeb shrugged. “Yeah, maybe. But once you knew what it meant; how dangerous it is to be close to someone like me, like us? Alex, you wanted to.”

“I wanted the truth. I have it now. Do you see me running?”

“No,” Zeb said. “But I’ve lost so many people because of what I am, or really who I am.”

“Who you are has nothing to do with that,” Kallus said. “You’re kind. You have a compassionate heart. You fight for the people you care about, and the ones no one else does. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s never enough.”

“That was their opinion, not mine. I make my own decision, Zeb. I’m deciding to stay with you, not because you are or aren’t a demigod, but because of who you are.”

“Alex,” Zeb tried to protest weakly, the corners of his half-frown turning upwards.

“When I was under the water, stuck in my fighter, realizing I was going to drown, Zeb, you jumped into the water to save a stranger from another world,” Kallus reminded him. “You fought a wolf for me, fed me, gave me clothing and decided to lead me to the place where I can get the kind of help I need. Being who you are is not something you have to justify. Not for me, or for anyone else. It’s incredible enough without you risking your life for a stranger.”

“I guess,” Zeb said.

Kallus watched Zeb war against his own insides, visibly biting his tongue every time he took a breath as if to speak. The conflict stopped, at least on the outside, but Kallus saw the stiffness remain in Zeb’s posture. “Do you think-?”

“We should go,” Zeb said, gesturing to the top of the beach. “Cassian and Alethea are waiting.”

“Right. Where are we going?”

“Another ship. A misthios we’re friendly with was nearby. They’re bringing us to the mainland on their ship, the Adrestia .”

“Oh,” Kallus said.

“Right. So, let’s go.” Zeb moved past Kallus and up the beach, taking strides alongside Cassian and Alethea. He didn’t look back to see Kallus standing in surprise at his abrupt withdrawal, or the way his pale freckled hands reached up to clasp the new scarf, wishing the green before his eyes belonged to another’s.