Stelios

A gorgeous girl running into Stelios would've been fine on any other day, if the world was not burning and masses of people dying. It was not what he had signed up for when he snuck on to the mysterious ship with a bunch of warriors heading for what had seemed like nowhere to his eight-year-old self.

The aforementioned girl lands on top of him, then rolls herself off his body before sprinting back to wherever she was going.

Stelios rubs his wrist, where it sores. It is no big deal, but he still draws his thumb over the golden circle imprinted into his skin. It was what made him special, and he makes it special, too.

Stelios does not want to, but he has to move on, despite the urge to lie there on the ground. He has followed the tugging of his heart ever since he volunteered to hide inside the wooden horse, and he will again follow the ever increasing pull upon his heart that calls him to the girl.

Stelios pulls himself up despite the pain and follows her.

---

In the distance, the spot that Stelios follows grows ever closer, as does the way his hearts beats faster. He sees the outline of the girl, her white chiton flowing as she runs.

The girl turns left, and he does, too. And as he does, he can't see the girl running in front of him anymore.

"Where-" He starts to mutter under his breath, but he feels a sharp blade held delicately against his bared neck, and the girl he was chasing after slides into his view.

"Who the hell are you?" She growls, and it seems like she doesn't notice how close their faces are. Stelios can see the different shades of brown in her eyes, with golden flecks scattered here and there. However, this is no time for admiration when the person you are admiring is holding a knife to your throat.

He points his index finger gingerly at the blade, then motions taking it off. The girl's cheeks dust a faint pink, and she leans out of his face. She still holds the knife in front of her body.

"Who the hell are you?" She repeats once more.

"I mean no harm."

"I asked, who in the Hades are you?"

"Stelios." He answers. He has no reason to trust her, nor her to trust him. He only gives what she asks for, and that is his name.

"Why are you here, destroying my people and killing innocents? Why are you and your comrades," she spits out as if they stung her tongue, "Trying to molest women and defiling the temples of the gods?"

"We were not doing any of that!" He protests. ​​​​​​

"Then how do you explain the beast who strode into Lady Artemis' temple, where I was praying, and tried to rape me right there?"

He tries shaking his head to deny the fact, but he knows that the girl is not lying. Not because he is great at reading people, but because of what he heard last night in the wooden horse's belly.

---

​​​​"How about you, boy? What do you want to do once we successfully infiltrate their disgusting city?"

"I'm not sure, actually. Why?"

The man who had nudged him clapped him on his back. "Don't you worry, boy. I have an idea. We could set fire to the city and watch it light those little motherfuckers they call citizens up."

The man waited expectantly, but Stelios didn't answer.

"How about this: once we get in, we'll pick out our little prizes, you know what I mean?"

---

Stelios had no idea what the man had meant then, but now, he knows what he means, and he feels like vomiting.

"I can't." Stelios splutters out. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Sorry won't cut it." Her gaze was stern. "But I won't hold it against you, as long as you swear that you won't do anything of the sort."

"I promise I won't," he looks around the corner, " So will you let me go now?"

The girl's mouth opens to respond, but Stelios suddenly sees the golden mark upon her right wrist. A tiny circle with a dot in the middle. Her gaze follows his, which lands on his own right wrist as he holds it up for inspection.

It's an identical mark.