Phanes

Author comments: a reviewed told me that Phanes looks like one of her characters. Well, Phanes was a Greek god that had golden wings, and that’s why my character has blond hair. I had never read another fiction with a character named Phanes, so I can safely say that I have not copied anyone’s ideas. I am sorry to hear that it gave you this impression, but as you can see my story is different from yours, and his hair colour comes from the God he is named after.
That said, I apologise for being so very late on the update! Things have been crazy at home! >-<
Thank you for your reviews, they really, really make me happy! (Oh, and if anyone knows how I can allow people to post anonymous reviews, please tell me!) ^^

~~~~ Phanes - Chapter 03

The following morning, Phanes found two black feathers lying on his bedcovers. He picked them up and stared at them for a good half an hour, trying to decide if it was a good or a bad thing that last night’s dream had not been that much of a dream. On the one hand, he had not been scared of the painting once those mysterious beings had appeared, so he guessed they were not evil. But, on the other hand… he really didn’t know their true intentions. What if they wanted to kill him in his sleep?

Phanes shook his head, staring at the feathers and caressing them with one finger. He hadn’t noticed that one of them had red tips; it was an odd colour for a feather, he thought, although it was quite beautiful and he had never been outside much. Who knew if black feathers were common in the outside word? The only feathers he saw on daily bases were the ones that some nobles used on their hats or hairstyles.

He decided that whether he trusted the beings or not was just a matter of deciding who killed him: the painting or them? He though that the one to kill him would probably be the painting, because it was constantly radiating evil energy and staring at him with those unnerving eyes. He got up slowly and walked towards his dresser, feeling the thick rug under his naked feet. Someone –probably a servant–, had entered his room and lighted a few candles again, so he could now see where he was going. He did his best to look at the dresser only and not let his eyes wander towards the canvas of his nightmares, he didn’t want to scream and look even weaker in his bodyguards’ eyes than he already did.

He was glad to finally reach his dresser, and he opened it with shaking hands. He wanted to be out of that room fast, but his desire to do something about the feather was stronger; he didn’t want to lose it. He grabbed one of the thin silk ribbons that his servants sometimes used to tie his hair with and tied the feathers together with it. When he was sure that they wouldn’t fall off the knot, he tied the ribbon around his neck, letting the feathers rest against his collarbone. He relaxed a fraction, for some reason he was not as scared as before, almost as if the feathers were a charm against evil paintings. He smiled at his silliness, sometimes he really behaved like a child. He didn’t think a couple of feathers could protect him against the painting when the time came, but for now he guessed that it was alright to relax a bit. It was morning, and the painting was “sleeping”. ‘It’s very odd that it only awakes at night’, he thought while he dropped his pyjamas and started dressing in his favourite white tunic, which had a golden bird sewn in one side.

Adorning his feet with golden anklets, he stepped out of his room. He had never worn shoes, sometimes his father allowed him to wear very thin golden sandals which made his feet hurt if he walked too long, so he almost never wore them. Of course, walking barefoot meant that he could not put a single foot outside; right now it was the end of the winter season and snow still decorated the gardens, the beautiful gardens that he had played in when he was a child. Now his father didn’t let him go outside anymore, although sometimes he was allowed to eat in one of the balconies that overlooked the gardens. He wished that the summer season would come earlier this year, he really missed eating lunch in the balcony.

He looked at both sides of his door, surprised to see Gregorios with Styx instead of Ares. The water sprite was almost always working with Ares, but this time he had been paired up with the big, intimidating man that was Gregorios. He was one of the older members of the Immortals, and had a serious air around him, as if he were always deep in thought. Although Phanes was not an expert in this sort of thing, he thought that Gregorios liked Styx. A lot. When the younger man was around, his shoulders seemed to relax a bit, and his cold black eyes shone with an unusual warmness. Phanes just wished Gregory (as he was called by the Immortals) would start dropping him at Styx.

He was pretty sure the red haired bodyguard enjoyed Gregory’s company more than he did any of the others’, Ares included. He seemed to glow with happiness when Gregory was around. Of course, it was difficult to notice because both of them were on guard, and so had to be ready to protect the prince and could not show too much emotion, but Styx did not miss the longing glances they kept giving each other.

“Hi!” he said cheerfully. Gregory barely glanced at him before he directed his gaze back to the corridor, looking out for a possible enemy.

“Good morning, little prince!” Styx answered, smiling. Phanes arched an eyebrow. Styx was smiling, not smirking! His theory was definitely right, Styx liked Gregory, and perhaps he even loved him. He had never played matchmaker before, but he was going to try and do something about their situation! With that in mind, Phanes started walking towards the dinning room to get something to eat.

“Feathers?” asked Gregory, his black eyes immediately picking up the unusual accessory hanging from his prince’s neck.

Phanes blushed, looking down at the floor. He touched the two feathers softly and looked at Gregory through his golden bangs.

“I… I found them on my bed this morning. I think they might have come out of one of the pillows…” he said hesitantly.

“Black feathers are not used in pillows” answered Gregory, his gaze narrowing on the feathers as if they were an enemy. Phanes understood that the bodyguard couldn’t trust any unknown object, who knew if even feathers could be poisoned, but he really wanted to keep them. He looked at Styx with pleading eyes, and Styx, who had been looking at the feathers with worried eyes, sighed.

“You can keep them, I guess. Nobody enters your room without our supervision, so I guess they must have fallen off one of your pillows… you should ask a servant to find the pillow that is losing feathers, though. Wouldn’t want you uncomfortable, sleeping on something other than silk” Styx smirked slightly, and Phanes blushed in anger, forgetting his earlier shyness. Styx was so evil sometimes!

“I can sleep on anything just fine!”

“Oh, I’m sure you can. We can hear your snores through the door… the very thick door to your room!”

“It’s not true!”

They bickered back and forth, with Gregory silently following them, until they reached the dinning room. Still red from anger, Phanes dropped down in the chair next to his father in a huff and started eating, stabbing the omelette as if it were the head of an enemy. Stupid Styx! And here he had been almost to help him out and get him paired with Gregory!

“What. Is. That?!” the voice of his father interrupted his thoughts. Phanes looked at his father and then followed his gaze to the feathers. He sighed. Perhaps he should have just left them in his room, they were getting him in a lot of trouble today.

“I found them in my bed. They probably fell off one of the pillows, father.” He answered, smiling at the King, hoping that he would drop the subject.

“In your bed?” the King’s voice had gone dangerously low and cold, and Phanes looked at his father with wide eyes, not expecting the anger he saw there. Surely a couple of feathers were not that offensive?

Standing up abruptly, the King grabbed his son’s delicate wrist and dragged him out of the room, leaving behind a dinning room full of whispering nobles.

“Father…?” Phanes said, trying to keep his voice steady despite the fact that he was very scared. His father had never been anything but gentle with him, and now he was hurting him, grabbing him with strong fingers that were leaving ugly red marks on his son’s white skin. The King was cursing in a low voice, and Phanes almost didn’t hear him over the sound of his frantic heartbeat. Was his father really going to punish him? He felt like crying, but the shock caused by this new situation was keeping him from doing so.

They went down many stairs; passing through rooms that Phanes had not even known existed. He wished Ares, or Gregory and Styx were with him, but they were not allowed to follow Phanes if he was with the King. Suddenly the stairs ended and the King slowed his steps. Everything was dark, here. There were no torches or candles; it was almost as bad as when Phanes was alone inside his room. The King snapped his fingers, and a soft light illuminated the room, allowing the blond boy to get a good look at his surroundings. They were in an old prison, which had not been used in a very long time. Phanes shivered from the cold, and tried, once more, to talk to his father.

“Father? Why are we here?” he said, voice trembling slightly. He didn’t know why they were here.

“Your room is no longer safe. You will stay here from now on” and, with that said, he pushed Phanes inside one of the cells and closed the door.

“Father?!” Phanes cried, going towards the door.

“I am doing this for your protection, Phanes” said the man, caressing his son’s face through the bars. Phanes couldn’t stop a few tears from running down his cheeks.

“Dad, I will be good, I promise! Please, allow me to return to my room! I won’t go out anymore, I promise!” his desperate pleas fell on deaf ears, for the King turned and walked up the stairs, snapping his fingers once more and letting darkness fill the room.

Phanes hyperventilated.