Kyros

1. Kyros

"I am the son of a merchant, though I am unlikely to ever be an heir, my older siblings would come to take that role. I became a soldier, an officer. Trained in the use of arms and knowing the most lethal tactics, I had many a victory, though I also suffered some bloody defeats," The man before you is definitely a warrior, even out of his uniform you cannot doubt the truth of that. His eyes and ears are prepared to warn him and his hand is ready to grip the sword should there be the slightest sign of danger. "I lost friends and allies in each and every battle, I survived on fools luck, hoping that a wild arrow would not strike me down as it did others," A momentary shadow of pain cloaks his face. "But I am getting ahead of myself here," He laughed nervously...

Kyros felt the sweat burn in his eyes as he circled around his opponent, they had been sparring all morning and he could barely lift his parades any longer, meanwhile his mentor, Aeneas, were showing no sign of having tired from their long practice. Kyros thought he saw an opening in Aeneas's defenses and threw himself at it with all his strength. Aeneas sidestepped him and Kyros found himself meeting the ground with an unpleasant amount of force behind him. "When you over commit, you leave yourself vulnerable to counterattacks," Aeneas said and patted Kyros on the back with his sword. "We've been doing this for hours," Kyros complained as he got up, "What's the point of this? I thought you said that an individual was helpless in the greater picture?" Aeneas shook his head and sighed, "Have I not taught you better than this? In battle you must rely on yourself, out there faith will not save you, least of all blind faith. We will begin again in two hours, be ready," Kyros saw his master walk away and then turned to face the Great Lake.
He really felt more at ease when he looked at the water, eternally in motion yet always calm. Sometimes he envied the birds that landed on the water, how little they had to worry about; they did not come from an empire long faded and whose time of glory is long past. They did not have to be taught in the ways of combat, or in strategy, they had the freedom to ignore all this. He didn't.

"Aeneas helped me more than I ever admitted to myself, he gave me the help I needed to trust myself, so that I could teach that to others. All I did since then has been coloured by his teachings; perhaps my way of keeping him alive.

"Life as a mercenary, as I would later take up, was never something I enjoyed. It was mostly because I was lost; after Aeneas disappeared I was alone for the first time in years. I suppose that I could have returned to my family but for some reason I didn't, instead I joined mercenaries. I fully admit that I never quite accepted the subordinate position I was given, no better than thugs swinging crude clubs in their eyes. Sometimes I hated them, but in time they became friends, some I still consider friends even if I haven't seen them in years now,"

The sound of his seven men walking in unison made him relax, he found it much easier to relax when he knew that people he trusted and had fought beside walked beside him. The sound of hundreds of feet came from the caravan they were following; there were no real guards, just mercenaries and mindless thugs. Kyros and his men were charged with the protection of a merchant by the name of Kurik, a dwarven tailor dealing in expensive clothing that only nobility could afford. Kyros had cursed under his breath when he had been forced to accept the situation; this was not what he had expected from life, Aeneas had made him to expect more from life than protecting a petty, greedy merchant from brigands. An arrow flew towards the wagon the merchant sat in and Kyros saw one of his men, Argus, catch the arrow in his fist before the man even drew his weapon. A small boy, hardly more than 10 years old ran towards them from the direction of the shot and stopped in front of them, blushing, "Sorry, sirs. I didn't mean to..." Kyros made a gesture for the others to send the boy back, "Aim into the wilderness next time, boy," he said as the boy hurried away. "You might hit something," He continued to watch.

"Of course, no actual bandits are stupid enough to attack a larger caravan, especially when there's trained soldiers amongst the travellers," Kyros said, "We arrived safely and received our payment, not a particularly interesting story I'll grant you, but I later saw the boy again. The very same boy who had nearly killed our employer was teaching people how to shoot only a year later, I saw him make impossible shots," Kyros stopped talking, as if he was reliving a fond memory. "We did well." Then the moment was gone. "I actually felt proud, I had watched him take his first unsure steps and ended up seeing him learn others those beginning steps,"

"Come down from there, Kyros. You'll end up getting yourself killed!" Kyros laughed and let his hand slip, then grinned as he heard the startled gasp when Nioti saw him lose his grip, "I've been doing things like this for years," Kyros continued to hang in one hand, though his voice did not reveal the strength required to hold him up, "Come down." Her voice was of ice and she spoke slow and deliberately, "I won't see you hurting yourself," Kyros reluclantly let his hand go and landed on the ground just beside her, "You know nothing bad is going to happen, right?" He asked her concerned when he saw relief marked on her face, "You've been hurt that way before," she reminded him, though she sounded ashamed to mention it, "My leg is fine, and yes; it shows it's been broken but it doesn't even hurt. Besides, when'd you find out about that?" Nioti smiled, mischief in her eyes. Kyros sighed, "Is there anything they don't tell you? I sometimes think you know more about me, than I do," He half-heartedly complained, he actually liked that she cared so much about him, but why should he be straight-forward about that?

"And no, I don't see her anymore, her family sailed away to some far-off island, I never even asked which one, and now I must admit I don't really care anymore," Kyros said to the youngster, "I suppose they left partially because of my relationship with their daughter, they were of some of the noblest blood and I was son of no one. Son of a merchant, my grandfathers were immigrants and liars, not anyone of importance." Kyros began nodding his head, he had never been able to drink very well, "And, of course, no accident comes alone. My mother contracted an illness and even as we speak, she withers away like an old flower."