I will never be the same....
Styxx opened his purse and pulled out the herbs his uncle had sent home with him. Wanting to get away from everything, he went to his bed. But not even that was comforting.
His father had placed all of his linens and pillows in here, not knowing that the smallest pillow on that bed had belonged to Acheron.
Styxx ground his teeth as a wave of pain so severe it left his heart bleeding ravaged him. They had been so close as boys. Best friends. He'd shared everything with Acheron.
And now ...
Acheron hated him as much as Ryssa did. His brother had no use for him whatsoever.
He winced as he remembered Estes's confessed perversions about his time in Atlantis. He still didn't know if it was true or not. I hope to the gods that I never know. Because he wasn't sure he could handle it if it was the truth.
Dropping his cloak, he looked down at the bruises that verified his use. Why wouldn't the damn things heal already? Not that it would matter. Even once they were gone, he'd still be branded as a whore.
That mark would be with him forever.
Unable to deal with it, he dropped a handful of herbs into the kylix near his bed and poured wine over them. The sooner he could drug or drink himself into oblivion, the happier he'd be. He gulped it all down in one shot and then glared at the pillow that reminded him of the childhood he'd lost. The love and friendship he'd never have again.
The innocence.
Most of all, it reminded him of the fact that when he'd risked his life to save Acheron, Acheron had called out for Estes and caused Styxx to be taken. While he'd tried to free Acheron, Acheron had trapped him.
"You fucking bastard!" he snarled, grabbing the pillow. His rage spurring him, he threw it into the fire and let the flames burn it to embers.
Then he sank to his knees on the floor and tried his best to blot out everything. But it was useless. The new memories tortured him even more than his old ones had.
I am damned.
And there was no escape from his mind that flogged him a thousand times worse than any scold ever could.
October 30, 9533 BC
"Did you say or do something to your sister?"
It took Styxx a moment to make sense of those words from his father. He'd only seen her once since his return. She'd asked him about Acheron and he'd refused to speak a word of anything to do with Atlantis. She'd called him selfish, slapped him, and left.
Blinking, he looked up from his breakfast and shook his head. "No, Father. Why?"
"She's gone to visit my sister in Athens. I know she gets her whims and travels, but this one seems more sudden than normal."
Styxx rubbed at his brow as his head spun. While the herbs Estes had given him made his thinking fuzzy, they removed the pain and voices. It was worth the delayed reaction time to have that small peace.
"Ryssa doesn't talk to me about such things. Perhaps you should ask Mother."
"She flies into a rage if I go near her."
But she never tried to stab you in the heart.
"Then I'm at a loss, Father. I've never understood Ryssa's mind."
"I wonder if it has anything to do with her maid...."
"Her maid?"
"The one you impregnated. Ryssa's been in a foul mood since the chit confessed it. She dismissed her immediately."
"I didn't-"