Desire (Legends of the Kilanor Book 3)

by Jared Stone

  Legends of the Kílánór

  Desire

  Jared Stone

  Copyright © 2016 Jared Stone

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-10: 1540451321

  ISBN-13: 978-1540451323

  First, many thanks must I bestow,

  on those I’m fortunate to know.

  We’ll get to Lucian in good time,

  after this grateful little rhyme.

  For all my husband’s boundless love,

  I thank my lucky stars above.

  Without him here, it surely seems,

  I could not thus pursue my dreams.

  And then my mother, tried and true,

  still reading chapters old and new.

  Up late at night, with book she’ll sit,

  to read my words and fix my… errors.

  To Connor, also, credit’s due,

  for artist’s skill surpassed by few.

  Amazing covers grace my tales,

  on every job, he never fails.

  So to those three and many more,

  I feel indebted to my core.

  Without them we could never see

  Lucian fulfill his destiny.

  Please sit back and enjoy this book

  and all the effort that it took.

  It truly is my heart’s content

  to craft these worlds… and pay my rent.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  1

  1

  Continuity

  18

  2

  Gifts

  38

  3

  Spark

  64

  4

  Nirvana

  78

  5

  Plans

  109

  6

  Temptation

  128

  7

  Extinguishment

  157

  8

  Entrance

  182

  9

  Lust

  207

  10

  Gluttony

  222

  11

  Greed

  239

  12

  Wrath

  262

  13

  Smoldering

  282

  14

  Sloth

  305

  15

  Envy

  325

  16

  Pride

  351

  17

  Fall

  390

  Epilogue

  414

  Prologue

  816 BCE: Greece

  “Hey, come back here!” exclaimed a young man as he scrambled through the short, scraggly bushes jutting out of the rocky hillside. With every bound, the coarse cloth of his ragged garments blew back in the breeze, and the dark, curly locks of hair atop his head bounced around wildly, as if dancing jubilantly in the rays of the majestic sun above.

  “You cannot go running off like that!” he insisted with a smile, reaching down and scooping up a baby goat with one powerful, muscular arm. Bringing it up to his face, he kissed the kid on its furry cheek, eliciting an affectionate “Meeeeeeeh” in return, then began to make his way back down the embankment to rejoin the rest of his modest flock.

  This young man was known by the people of his village as Argos, a name which, in his native Greek tongue, meant “shining.” And that certainly was an appropriate name for the poor shepherd’s son who was always brightly smiling and full of the luminous joy that was the gift of life. Argos saw wonder in everything around him, and these strong emotions were second only to his desire to protect those close to him… and his infamously insatiable appetite.

  “Do you know what time it is?” he asked the fluffy creature on his arm in a gentle, high-pitched voice.

  “Meeehh,” the kid responded, looking affectionately into his guardian’s big brown eyes.

  “Yes!” Argos practically cheered. “It is time for my lunch! You always were the smartest one!”

  By this point, Argos had already made it down the hill to the flat field where his three other goats were wandering around, grazing on whatever little tufts of grass were hardy – or perhaps foolish – enough to have poked their heads up out of the arid soil. Argos liked to think of these four animals as a flock which he could protect and shepherd, though such a meager grouping was certainly not anything to boast about. Livestock was a symbol of status in those times, and Argos’ family had neither the money nor the prestige to own very much of anything.

  Laying the kid down by his parents, Argos grabbed the leather satchel he had placed in the shade of a tree and sat on top of a flat rock nearby. Reaching inside the pouch, he pulled out a plump, ripe pear and held it out in front of him.

  “My love,” he whispered with a grin, “I could not stop thinking about you all day!”

  With a hearty chuckle, Argos took a huge bite out of the ripe fruit, unabashedly allowing the juices to run down his chin and onto his lap. With a “Mmmmm,” Argos leaned back on the rock in pure bliss, closing his eyes and quietly thanking Helios for the warm embrace of the god’s light against his face.

  “Argos…,” a voice seemed to whisper in his ear.

  Argos snapped his eyes open and sat up on the rock. He glanced around him, but the only other beings within sight were his family of goats, and none of them had ever whispered his name before, as far as he knew. He eyed the animals suspiciously, but they continued grazing and seemed to pay him no heed.

  “You are hearing things, Argos,” the young man told himself reassuringly, lying back down on the rock. “There is no one here but you, the goats, and the gods.”

  “Argos!” a woman’s voice suddenly called out, this time with a great, almost impatient intensity that vibrated through the young man’s whole body.

  Argos once again shot up, certain of what he had heard this time. “Y-Yes?” he asked aloud to the empty space around him, trembling in confusion and awe.

  Before him, there exploded a brilliant flash of light, terrifying his goats and sending them darting away, over the high hills and out of sight. Argos shielded his eyes for a moment, and, when he brought down his arm to look in front of him again, he saw a brown and white bird standing on the ground, with gorgeous blue and green feathers upon its neck and sparkling, jewel-like eyes which stared directly at him.

  “Argos,” the booming voice said again, seeming to flow forth from the animal before him, though he saw no movement of its beak. “I am Hera, Queen of the Gods. I call upon you today to perform a task in the service of your queen.”

  Argos felt himself slipping off the side of the rock, completely astonished by what he was experiencing. He tried to stand, but his legs seemed to possess no bones at all, and he instead found himself leaning and gripping onto the stone as if it was the last anchor keeping him tethered to reality.

  “Wh- What do you ask of me?” the young man barely croaked out.

  “You shall be the appointed guardian of a sacred beast,” the goddess stated.

  Argos opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question, but the bird had already unfurled its wings in another burst of light. Before Argos could even determine how it had happened, a beautiful white heifer stood where the bird once had.

  “You are to guide this heifer to a sacred temple site southeast of here,” the disembodied female voice instructed. “There, you shall discover the priestess who shall establish my temple upon this earth.”

  “But…, what about the cow? What must I do with her?” Argos asked, confused about how, exactly, all these seemingly disparate pieces were connected.

  “All shall be revealed
in time,” the voice assured. “The Moirai have foretold your fate, Argos. You shall grow to become a great man with a hand in shaping the destinies of all beings. This task shall be where your journey begins. Now, go! Travel in the direction of the sea. You shall know when you have arrived.”

  “But, wait!” Argos cried out. “How shall I know? Where is this place?”

  Argos heard no further answer.

  “Hello!?” he cried out again to the empty sky. But all remained silent.

  Letting out an exasperated huff, Argos looked at the heifer. Her crystalline brown eyes stared back at him in an empathetic, yet almost mournful, way.

  “Ugh,” Argos said, running his hand through his hair and scratching his head in contemplation. He truly did not wish to leave home to go off on some mystery errand because a divine bird had ordered him to do so. On the other hand, mandates from the gods were not something with which one should trifle; he had heard of the terrifying consequences faced by other mortals who had defied the gods, and he did not wish to suffer a similar fate.

  And what is all this about ‘shaping the destinies of all beings?’ he pondered to himself. That sounded like something that would probably require a great deal of effort, and he really was perfectly content with just eating his pear in the sunlight.

  He took a deep breath in and just stood there for a moment, gazing out at the empty hills around him. Then he turned back to the cow. “Just…, Just wait here,” Argos said, holding out his hand in front of her. “I must go find my goats first!”

  The cow just stood there, staring at him unnervingly in silent comprehension.

  * * *

  After Argos had located and herded his goats back home once again, he grabbed the heifer by the rope tied around her neck and said an emotional goodbye to his parents. Though they lamented, for they relied upon him to tend to the flock and small farm, they also understood the gravity of a mandate from the Queen Goddess herself. They hugged their son and prayed that the gods would carry him safely on his way. And so, with this, Argos set out in the direction the bird deity had told him. It took them a couple of days of walking, with Argos amicably passing the time by chatting with the heifer, telling her stories of his youth and his humble plans for the future. He confided in her that he eventually wanted to find a wife, have three wonderful children, and settle down in his home village, where he would raise a whole flock of healthy goats. The cow, whom he had now affectionately named Phoibe, was actually a great listener. Never one to interrupt, she would silently take in all that the young man said, and Argos could definitely tell that she always gave it a great amount of consideration.

  Soon, Argos could smell the fresh, almost salty air wafting over the hills, and he knew that they had to be getting close to the ocean. He had only been to the ocean once as a very small boy with his father to purchase a fish to celebrate Posidea that year, but he had never had the opportunity to travel that far away since. He remembered great things about the scenery and the people there, and he had always wanted to return.

  “We are almost there, Phoibe!” Argos exclaimed with joy. “What do you suppose is waiting for us?”

  “Mmmmuuuuuuuhhhhhh” Phoibe posited.

  “Hmmmm, that does sound nice,” Argos responded thoughtfully with a nod of his head. “And lots of food! Do not forget about the food!”

  Argos closed his eyes and imagined a big banquet feast stretching out before him. He had never been fortunate enough to attend a feast before, but he had heard about them in stories of great heroes, and he figured that ‘shaping the destinies of all beings’ was good enough of a job to earn him a seat at the table.

  The young man was so enveloped in his imaginings that he failed to notice the three men approaching them on the road. It was not until Phoibe let out a guttural “Mmmuuuhhhhh” that Argos realized they had company.

  “Oh! Greetings, fellow travelers!” Argos called out with a raise of his hand. “How are you on this fine day?”

  The large, surly man in front of the group squinted his bulbous eyes at Argos and let out a grin that showed yellowed, crooked teeth nestled amongst his massive, bushy beard.

  “Well, look at what we have here,” the man stated smugly. “A little boy and his nice, expensive cow.”

  The two other men behind him laughed as he said this, but Argos had to admit he thought it came off as a little hostile.

  “We are simply trying to get to a temple not far from here,” Argos stated, growing more nervous with each passing second. “Do you happen to know where it is?”

  The first man laughed again. “A temple?” he said. “There is no temple around here, boy! Nothing but open fields and barren hills all around us. But I might tell you where the next closest village is…, for a fee.”

  Argos swallowed hard. “I…, I have nothing, sir…,” he said, trembling. He began to step back away from the men. “I am just a poor boy from quite a distance away who is trying to find a temple.”

  The bearded man’s face contorted into a snarl. “Well, that is just too bad,” he said. “It seems that we have to take this pretty thing off your hands as payment, then.”

  With this, he snatched the lead rope out of Argos’ grasp and shoved him onto the ground roughly. As Argos hit the dirt hard, one of his elbows collided against a rock which was protruding from the path, causing the boy to cry out in pain.

  The three men laughed heartily. “What a pathetic excuse for a man,” the bearded one said as he tugged on Phoibe’s rope to lead her away. “Get used to it, kid. Life is unfair.”

  Argos could feel tears welling up in his eyes, but he wasn’t about to let these brutes walk away with his new friend – especially when he had been entrusted by the gods to deliver her safely. Pushing himself up from the ground with his good arm, he stood with fists clenched.

  “Let her go!” he commanded sternly, narrowing his steely gaze at the group of thieves before him.

  The bearded man’s face became very serious. “What did you say to me?” he spat.

  “I said let her go!” Argos yelled. Though normally mild-mannered and amicable, the young man would fight to the death to protect those close to him, and this was clearly demonstrated as he stood there in defiance of the significantly stronger men.

  The leader of the group handed Phoibe’s rope to one of his grunts and took a few steps toward Argos, until his gnarled, stinky beard was just a hair’s length from the boy’s face. “You had better watch yourself, kid,” he growled menacingly. “If you want to live to see another day.”

  Argos tried to suppress the trembling in his body. “Give her back,” he commanded as sternly as he could muster.

  The bearded man furrowed his brow and stared at the heifer’s young guardian. “Someone ought to teach you a little respect,” he finally stated, reaching down and unfastening the thick, clunky wooden club that hung at his hip. Argos, seeing the weapon gripped in its wielder’s meaty hand, started stepping back.

  “Nnnnoowww…, nnn-nno need for violence…,” he stuttered as he continued his retreat. “I…, I meant no disrespect.” But the bearded man had had enough, and he lumbered toward the boy with the club raised in the air. As he brought the weapon down upon Argos, Argos lifted his arms above his head to shield himself from the blow.

  Without any warning, a blinding flash of blue light exploded outwards, and the bearded man was cast back forcefully and onto the ground, dropping his club beside him with a thump. His cronies looked astonished for only a moment before throwing down Phoibe’s rope and running away over the hills. Argos just stood there, temporarily frozen while the acute tingling sensation faded once again from his limbs. He had no idea what had just happened.

  The bearded man cried out in anguish on the ground, grabbing his head with his hands. “Arrrgg! Whaaaa- What!? What was that!?”

  Argos didn’t know what to say, but, as the weird feeling in his body subsided, he began to feel very dizzy and weak. “That is right,” he mumbled, trying to sound tough –
or at least coherent. “You get out of here, before I do it again!”

  Scrambling backwards on the ground, the bearded man attempted to retreat from where the boy stood, eventually pushing himself up onto his feet and turning to stumble away as fast as he could. Argos stood straight and firm for as long as the man was still in sight, but he suddenly collapsed to the ground in exhaustion and relief once the thief’s head was no longer visible behind the hill. For some reason, he felt as if his strength had been completely sapped from him, and he figured that it must somehow be connected to the mysterious flash of light. Phoibe casually made her way over to the boy, gazing down at him on the ground with caring concern and gratitude in her big brown eyes.

  “Well, I could not just allow them take you away like that,” Argos whispered to the heifer with a grin.

  Leaning her head down, Phoibe nuzzled her nose against the young man’s neck.

  “Now, let us go,” Argos urged with a little more strength. He still didn’t understand what had just transpired, and he was seriously starting to fear that he was actually going crazy; but he also had an inexplicable compulsion to complete his mission. “We must get you to the temple.”

  With this, Argos threw his arm around Phoibe’s neck and allowed her to hoist him up off the ground. Leaning heavily upon her side as he walked, Argos followed her down the road to finish their journey toward the coast.

  * * *

  It could not have been more than half an hour before Argos and Phoibe stopped to rest beneath a tree at the top of a hill. Argos’ head was pounding, and he found himself almost too weak to stand. Worst of all, his stomach was agonizingly empty, as they had, by this point, run out of all the food Argos had packed. The boy looked around in all directions, but he could not find a temple anywhere. There was only rocky terrain and small, scraggly bushes as far as the eye could see.