Styxx definitely didn't want to be one of those. While the priests would scar his body, they did have fear of his father's wrath should they deform him too much.
The god would fear nothing. And while the Olympian wouldn't leave physical scars, he'd leave them on Styxx's heart and in his soul. Something he knew would never heal.
So be it.
Like everything else in my life, I can suffer this in silence.
He had no choice.
August 26, 9535 BC
Mentally numb and cold, Styxx stared at the wall before him while he lay on his side, aching all over. It even hurt to blink his eyes. He had no idea how long he'd been undergoing his "treatments" for madness. The torture sessions had long ago blurred together as the priests sought to drive the demons from him.
In the end, it had done nothing except scar his body and make his headaches even more severe than they'd been before. Most of all, it made him hate every single member of his family. And every god who lived on Olympus.
The door behind him opened.
Tears filled his eyes as he waited for them to drag him back to the room he'd learned to despise with every part of his being. "Come, Highness. You have a visitor."
Visitor? Could his father have finally come to get him?
Styxx tried to stand, but his legs were too weak to support his weight. The priest moved forward and covered his naked body with a rough cloak then pulled him up by his arm. Styxx let out a groan as his blistered side contacted with the priest's scratchy stola. Ignoring it, the priest helped him walk down the hall to the last room on the left. The priest opened the door then pushed him through it.
His legs buckled as the door was shut behind him.
"Styxx?"
He lifted his head to find his uncle moving closer.
"Dear Zeus, what have they done to you?"
Styxx couldn't answer. His throat was too raw from the screams his treatments had wrung from him.
Estes cradled him in his arms like an infant. "Can you speak?"
Styxx shook his head, wincing as more pain went through him.
"Here." Estes pulled a small skin of wine from his belt and held it for him to sip.
It burned, but tasted wonderful. He hadn't had anything but spoiled milk, fouled water, and other disgusting things that were designed to drive the demons from his body. Swallowing hard, he licked his dry, cracked lips. "P-p-please, Uncle," he whispered. "Take me home."
Estes ground his teeth as his eyes flared with anger. "I can't, little squirrel. Xerxes said that you have to stay here until you're healed. He would be furious if I took you home without his consent."
A tear slid down Styxx's cheek at those words, burning the wounds that were left from blows he no longer felt when they were given. So much for Estes's boasts of bravery in battle. In the end, he, who lived in a foreign country, was as scared of his father as everyone else.
Fucking coward.
"I'll speak to your father on your behalf. Has he been here to see you?"
Styxx shook his head.
"I will get you out of here, I promise. Gods, I can't believe Xerxes has condoned this." Estes laid him back on the floor. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
Don't leave me. Please, Uncle. I can't take any more. I can't.
I'm just a boy....
But his uncle was gone before he could get one word out.