Kairos 50: Plots and Turns

Sitting on his throne of bones in his fortress’ great hall, Kairos dreamed of statues.

Watching the world through the eyes of his [Idols] was a strange experience. The Travian pirate had to meditate for a few minutes before he could enter the right state of mind. His body felt numb, his mind surrounded by darkness. In this void he saw two stars, each of them a lens through which he could observe the world.

Through the first one, Kairos watched Histria’s temple with multiple eyes, all of them looking in different directions. Instead of observing the world from a human’s perspective, he could see anything around his new [Idol], a stone statue representing him wielding a spear while riding Rook. The twilight’s luminosity colored the brick walls and pillars of the temple red.

Kairos’ statue stood shoulder to shoulder with honored [Demigods] like Charon the Boatman, or [Gods] such as the lord of magic Orgonos. Horace, the [Idol]’s chosen guardian, addressed a crowd of birds from atop the altar. Few citizens paid homages to Kairos himself, as while they respected him as their king they didn’t yet worship him. Those who left offerings were usually former slaves he had freed in his campaign against Orthia, or his own Gladiatorial Guard. However, the Travian warlord’s cult had found an enthusiastic flock in the city’s Stymphalian birds.

After all, he fed them well.

Kairos’ attention turned away from this area, and towards his [Idol] next to Hades’ Gate. The garrison had raised a roof of goatskin above the altar, and sacrificed a pig to the sculpture. The daemon Eurynomos devoured its bloody entrails and flesh, while Thales scribbled notes on a scroll under the protection of two guards.

“The master is listening,” Eurynomos said after briefly interrupting his feast. This surprised Kairos slightly. They had agreed to do a test at twilight, but he didn’t know [Idol] guardians could sense him watching them.

“Excellent,” Thales declared, before showing his scroll to the [Idol]. His sketch represented a plan of the future fortress, the automaton pointing a finger at a defensive wall. “Sir, what am I pointing at?”

Kairos answered with a wave of positive emotions, the feelings radiating from the [Idol] like a flame’s warmth. Then he switched to an angry blast, making the onlookers take a step back. The [Hero] followed up with a second, and then stopped.

“This was more intense than I thought,” Thales muttered, though he quickly took notes. “Joy, anger, anger. W.”

The process continued, as Kairos alternated between projecting two emotions and marking short pauses. “Joy, anger, A,” Thales said. “Joy, anger, joy, joy, L. Joy, anger, joy, joy, L. Wall.”

Since Kairos was limited at empathic projections with his current [Hero] Rank Thales had developed a code to make communication possible. Though the process was long and tedious, the Travian could already see the benefits. If he set enough [Idols] across his dominions or foreign courts, he could coordinate multiple groups across vast distances.

“Perfect, sir, you can not only see but also hear us,” Thales said with a happy nod. “I am happy to report that we have already managed to transport two hundred people to the new fort. I have high hopes to see the fortress functional before the month’s end, though winter and the region’s barrenness will make regular supply missions necessary.”

It didn’t surprise Kairos, who was happy they could transport a small force to Hades’ Gate at all. He had found a simple workaround to bypass the protective barrier: travelers would move with a key each, give them back to runners, and then stay behind to establish a colony.

Kairos thought that only a few brave volunteers would make the trip, but in the end, the transport guides couldn’t keep up with the demand. Many adventurers wanted to try their luck at conquering the dungeon’s riches.

It took a few minutes to translate the order, but Kairos asked Thales to oversee the fort’s construction before returning to Histria. “As you wish, sir,” the automaton replied. “When will you set sail?”

“SOON,” Kairos answered through the code system. Tiberius, who had trained to take over as the Foresight’s navigator, had confirmed Thales’ suggestions for the trip.

Exploiting the amphibious nature of Kairos’ ship, the Travian captain had selected a bold course of action: travel underwater to the mermaid kingdom of Orichalcos to either establish an embassy or trade relationships, stop in the merchant realm Vali to resupply, and then follow the maritime routes towards Orgonos’ lair in Argos. There the crew would lift Andromache’s curse, and return home at the beginning of spring.

“I’m truly disappointed that I cannot join you,” the automaton said with a heavy sigh. “The tales about Orichalcos have always fascinated me. What strange and wondrous technology did the merfolk develop without metalworking? Do they truly raise palaces from pearls?”

Kairos would rather have Thales with him too, but the automaton needed to fortify and prepare the colony for the incoming conflict with Mithridates. Still, if the Foresight’s crew succeeded in establishing an embassy in the mermaid kingdom, the [Crafter] would have many occasions to visit Orichalcos.

“I WILL BRING BACK SOUVENIRS,” Kairos promised, to Thales’ delight.

A voice echoed in the background of his mind, through his body’s ears. Kairos bade Thales goodbye, before hastily returning to his own flesh.

“Lord Kairos?” Tiberius’ voice interrupted his captain’s meditation. “Your mother has returned.”

Kairos opened his eyes, returning to his hall and family. As promised, his aide Tiberius had brought him his mother Aurelia.

She looked as intimidating as ever, though her black hair had started greying with age. Her wrinkled eyes were as strong as steel, and yet warm when they glanced at Kairos. Aurelia must have just climbed down from her ship, for she still wore traveler clothes beneath the white wolf pelts she affectioned. Julia accompanied her mother-in-law, while gladiator guards escorted the royal family, equipped with tridents, swords, and cesti.

“Son,” his mother greeted him with a smile. “It has been a while.”

“Too long,” Kairos replied, before rising up from his seat and hugging his mother tightly.

Julia watched on with a smile, while Tiberius cleared his throat, embarrassed. “Sir, do you want me to leave you alone?” the young man asked shyly.

“My brother is your sister’s husband,” Julia reminded Tiberius with an amused smile. “You are part of our clan too.”

“Indeed,” Aurelia said while breaking the hug. “I rest easy knowing a man of such pedigree assists my son.”

“I hope to one day honor my father’s reputation,” Tiberius replied with a sheepish smile.

“You will have the opportunity,” Kairos replied, as Tiberius would sail with him on the Foresight. “Did your travels go well, Mother?”

“We were attacked by well-armed bandits on a trip near Lissala,” Aurelia admitted with a shrug. “Your Gladiatorial Guard proved adequate at repelling them.”

“I will see that they are rewarded,” Kairos said, giving a thankful nod to the gladiators. “But why would anyone attack you near our hometown, Mother? Didn’t they recognize you?”

His mother laughed. “Oh my son, they attacked because they recognized me. They had been paid to slit my throat, and equipped with silver weapons to make the task easier. Though we questioned them sharply, they would not reveal their employer’s identity.”

Kairos could already imagine. He knew of one poisonous foreign king, fond of using catspaws to do his dirty work. “I will have your guard tripled.”

“This future grandmother still has claws, Kairos,” Aurelia said with a warm laugh. She had worked years to set up her son with someone to see the family name live on, and her wish had been granted. “You cannot imagine my joy when your wife informed me of this excellent news. I look forward to the day I may carry a grandson or granddaughter in my arms.”

“The child is not born yet,” Julia replied with prudence. “And they will carry Lycaon’s blood from both sides of the family. This does not bode well.”

Kairos felt a chill run down his spine as he remembered his vision in the Necromanteion, while Aurelia responded with a shrug. “No words will tarnish my hope,” she said. “Wolves or men, I will love your children all the same. Have you settled on a name?”

“Aurelius, if it is a boy,” Julia replied. “Rhea, if it is a girl.”

To Kairos’ amusement, his mother’s cheeks turned pinkish. “Son, are you trying to flatter me?” she asked with a chuckle.

“A bit,” Kairos admitted. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“No boy would exist without their mother,” Aurelia replied with a grin. “But I thank you, son. Why Rhea though?”

“For my mother,” Julia replied, her gaze turning distant. Kairos had heard rumors that her mother had been a captured concubine from Achlys, but he could tell that speaking about her bothered his wife.

Noticing Julia’s sour mood, Aurelia wisely changed the subject. “As for my trip, it went as well as it could have,” she said. “I broke bread with half the pirate lords of Travia. Even a few who openly declared for Teuta.”

Kairos took it as good news. It meant that the Travians still hesitated. “Did any of them declare for us?” he asked.

Aurelia frowned, and her son could tell he wouldn’t like her answer. “The poorest ones, who need our grain and resources. The richest of them will support Teuta, as they won’t surrender their autonomy. By large though, most remain undecided.”

“The craven and the cautious can smell the risk of a civil war,” Kairos guessed, “and so wait to see which way the wind will turn.”

“Perhaps you should show them your spear then, husband,” Julia deadpanned.

“Maybe I should turn my ship north rather than south, and return to Travia,” Kairos replied, less amused. “While we go to Argos, Teuta will remain in Travia to persuade the pirate lords to support her at home.”

“You are mistaken on that front, husband.” Julia joined her hands, her smile turning serious. “My spies tell me that Queen Teuta intends to sail south too.”

Kairos blinked in surprise. “Where?” he asked. He didn’t doubt that the fearless Teuta would be willing to travel south in spite of winter storms, but only for something important.

Instead of answering immediately, Julia turned to her guards. “Leave us,” she ordered. The men immediately walked out of the room, and closed the doors behind them. Then, with nobody left to spy on them, Julia answered her husband’s question. “To Vali.”

“Our friends in Travia whispered that she intends to meet with General Zama, a powerful Valian [Demigod] of warfare and strategy,” Aurelia added. “Your father crossed blades with him, back when the man was only a [Hero].”

Kairos remembered the story. His father Chron had the opportunity to challenge the general and steal his [Legend], but chose not to take the risk. He had a family at home, and favored them over a fleeting chance at glory.

Would Kairos have to carry on that feud? He didn’t hope so. He had heard the tales about the famous general, and how he never lost a single battle. Zama had crushed the city-state of Thessala’s armies when they tried to take over Valian colonies, and sunk their ships to the ocean’s bottom. His foes hadn’t recovered from the losses yet, paving the way for Mithridates’ ascension.

“Coincidentally,” Julia said, “my spies in Pergamon informed me that Mithridates intends to send an embassy to Vali, while he stays at home to prepare for the Olympic games.”

“Mithridates is recruiting allies abroad,” Kairos realized. “He is building a coalition opposing ours.”

“I agree,” Julia said. “He will also certainly make overtures to Alexandria, if he didn’t already.”

Kairos had expected as much, since the theocracy of Alexandria and the Lycean Republic were natural enemies. If Lyce intended to conquer the Thessalan city-states, then its rival would certainly assist their enemies.

“Achlys intends to stay neutral, though their mercenaries will fight on both sides of the conflict, and the cyclopes of Argos only rise up to defend their shores,” Julia said. “Since my brother has friends there, Vali may go either way, but Alexandria will certainly support Mithridates.”

Tiberius cleared his throat. “If I may, Milady, I would not be so certain.”

Kairos glanced at his aide. “What do you mean?”

“My father has trading partners in Alexandria, and I traveled there before on his behalf,” Tiberius explained. “That empire is not what it once was, sir. The queen has abandoned herself to opium and hedonism, while scheming eunuchs rule on her behalf. Her pyramids’ greatness cannot hide the gathering dust.”

“Alexandria can still field hundreds of thousands,” Julia replied, skeptical. “And the queen that gave the nation its name is a [Goddess], a victor of the Anthropomachia. Alexandria’s glory may be fading, but an old lioness still has sharp claws.”

“What I mean to say, Lady Julia, is that the empire of Alexandria is powerful, but it can be bribed.”

Julia remained doubtful. “Even if your father is the richest man in Lyce, it pales before Alexandria’s wealth. A bribe capable of impressing its rulers would cost a fortune... and whatever sum your father offers, Mithridates will match him coin for coin.”

“I wasn’t speaking of silver or gold.”

Kairos immediately caught on. “They would join us in carving out the Thessalan League?”

“I think they would be interested,” Tiberius replied with a nod. “I can secure an audience with Alexandria’s regents, maybe even the queen herself. We lose nothing by meeting with them.”

Julia frowned. “Even though tensions died down, Lyce and Alexandria have been hereditary enemies since their creation.”

“So were Travia and Lyce,” Kairos replied slyly. “And here we are.”

“Touché,” his wife conceded, before giving the suggestion serious thought. “My brother would rather have Alexandria with us than against us, as long as the price they fetch isn’t too high. If we could at least secure their neutrality...”

“Simply having an audience with Queen Alexandria would be a great boon to us, my son,” Aurelia said. “If kings and gods recognize you as a ruler, then it will give you recognition at home.”

“It cost us nothing to try, sir,” Tiberius said.

Kairos nodded, a plan forming in his head. “We will go to Orichalcos, then visit Vali and Alexandria, and before finally meeting Orgonos in the Cyclopean Islands of Argos. If all goes well, we should return to Histria with the spring.”

“Nothing ever goes well, husband,” Julia replied with a sharp smile. “But I will pray to the New Gods for luck on your trip.”

“Take Cassandra with you, my son,” Aurelia added. “You will need her.”

“This will leave Thales as the only [Hero] in Histria,” Kairos pointed out. “Though the risk is low, someone can still attack Histria in my absence.”

“We are not so defenseless,” Julia replied with a smirk. “We have thousands of soldiers, while your ship can only carry a few hundred.”

Kairos considered it for a moment, before seeing the wisdom in her words. The journey would be dangerous, and might put them in a collision course with Teuta and Mithridates’ agents. He would need powerful warriors at his side.

“Alright,” he said. “Tiberius, prepare your belongings. We will leave within three days.”

He still had one difficult advisor to consult first.

------------------------------------

In the middle of the night, Kairos and Rook landed on Aglaonice’s observatory.

“Can you wait at the entrance?” Kairos asked after dismounting from his griffin. “This might take a while.”

“You’re sure?” Rook asked with a frown. “Kairos, she might eat you if I’m not here to protect you!”

“She made an oath to the Furies, and she fears them more than she finds me appetizing,” the Travian replied. “Besides, I always beat her.”

“Mmm, alright, but don’t take long,” the griffin replied, slouching on the ground. “I’m sleepy, and I might take a nap if I wait.”

“You can rest,” his friend replied while ruffling his feathers. “After such a long trip, you deserve sweet dreams.”

“Oh, I will try to dream of fish then!”

Kairos left his friend at the observatory’s entrance with a smile on his face, before calling out for Aglaonice. “Where are you?”

The sphinx’s voice came out from a room deeper inside the complex. “Over here, manling!”

Kairos followed the sound to an ovoid stone chamber. Polished marble pillars held a ceiling covered in mosaics representing the major constellations and producing a faint magical light. The room smelled of sweet incense, while scrolls lay scattered on the ground.

The Travian [Hero] found Aglaonice playing with a colored cube on a pile of pillows, while she had set another group of cushions aside for her guest. A small table stood between the two ‘beds’, with an hourglass set on it.

“We should stop meeting like this, handsome, or people will talk,” she said while purring like a cat. “Tell me, have you come for answers, or a midnight tryst? Perhaps both?”

“Is that your riddle?” Kairos asked, amused. “I came for the answers you promised.”

“I said I would look for answers, and not for free,” the sphinx replied. “Thankfully, I have designed the ultimate test of wits and skills to test your resolve. Now sit, and watch.”

Kairos slouched on his pillow bed, while Aglaonice showed him a strange device: a cube with six faces, each covered by nine stickers. The faces were red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet.

Aglaonice’s eyes shone with a magical light, and the cube’s faces began to move independently. Kairos blamed an internal mechanism, as the colors began to mix into a chaotic, random mix.

“An internal mechanism will allow you to move the faces,” Aglaonice explained. “Now, you must arrange the cube so that every face is of the same color before the hourglass runs out. At the same time, I will ask riddles, which you must answer within thirty seconds each of me uttering them. The hourglass will run out within five minutes. If you fail any riddle or do not complete the cube within the allocated time, you lose.”

Kairos frowned, finding the challenge ridiculously complex. Even her previous riddles hadn’t been half as difficult as this puzzle. “If I fail, will you strangle me?”

“Don’t be silly manling, I made an oath not to harm you… and I’ve grown too fond of you to snap your pretty neck, even if I could.” The sphinx slyly scratched her belly. “No, if you lose, you will submit to me. You will acknowledge that I am your intellectual superior, and you will make an oath that you belong to me body and soul. You will find me a good and caring mistress.”

So basically, Kairos would become her slave in all but name. It technically didn’t violate her vow of non-aggression. “And if I win?”

“If you win, I will reveal what I learned about your foes and answer your questions.”

“The penalty is lopsided compared to the winnings,” Kairos replied. She asked for slavery in all but name, in exchange for a few tidbits of information, albeit sensitive ones.

“I am not the one in need of my advice, and I have found something quite interesting about this Poison King that you fear so much. Something earthshaking.” The sphinx grinned ear to ear. “So, want to bet?”

Kairos scowled, and considered his options.

Though somewhat entertaining, he was slowly getting tired of these games. Each contest he played against the sphinx increased his odds of losing, and considering her penalties, Aglaonice only had to snatch victory once. Kairos might still have need of the sphinx’s knowledge and powers in the future, and he didn’t want to wager his freedom each time he visited her.

Sphinxes fought battles of wits to establish their social hierarchy, and Kairos needed her to learn her place.

“Only if we spice up the game,” Kairos decided, putting his spear on the ground within arm’s reach. He would need both his hands to complete the puzzle. “After I complete your challenge, I will ask you a riddle. If you can figure out the solution, you will be under no compulsion to answer my questions, and we will settle on a tie.”

Aglaonice squinted suspiciously. “And if by some miracle, I fail to answer?”

“Then my penalty will become yours,” Kairos said. “I will not ask you to act against your oaths, but in all other matters, you will be in my exclusive service. You will become my loyal minion.”

This made the arrogant sphinx balk. Though she was prideful enough to believe in her chances of victory, she had already lost against Kairos in a game of wits. Once burnt, twice shy.

“If you are too afraid to continue after I solve your test, we could stop then. You will be under no condition to continue with another round.” But Kairos knew her pride wouldn’t let her leave on a defeat. “I won’t even ask an oath from you, even if you fail.”

This made her blink. “You won’t?”

“I do not enslave people, even treacherous sphinxes like you,” the Travian replied, having learned the shortcomings of oaths of obedience. “I will trust your honor as an intellectual to follow through.”

By now, Kairos had a good insight into Aglaonice’s personality. Her overwhelming pride would bind her better than any oath.

The sphinx considered the bet, and her rival could almost see the gears turning in her head as she weighed the odds of victory.

“I agree on one condition, manling,” Aglaonice decided at long last. “If you complete my test and if I accept your challenge, the riddle you ask me must have an answer. An answer that you know. No more unanswerable paradoxes.”

“Agreed,” Kairos said, having expected such a condition.

He felt the weight of Aglaonice’s magic on his shoulders, and the sphinx turned the hourglass.

Kairos immediately seized the cube, and started playing with the faces, trying to figure out how it worked. Aglaonice immediately asked her first riddle. “I am the beginning of everything and the end of every place. Who am I?”

“The letter ‘e,’” Kairos replied immediately, as he realized he could also move the middle layer.

“That one was an appetizer,” the sphinx said. “I am not alive but I grow. I don’t have lungs but I need air. What am I?”

“Fire.” Somehow, the picture of Agron flashed in Kairos’ mind as he answered. Only when he lost a few seconds, did he realize the danger.

“You can catch me, but never throw me away,” Aglaonice asked immediately, leaving him no time to focus. “I come with one season and leave with the next. What am I?”

“A cold,” Kairos answered, trying to remember in which way he had moved the faces a few seconds before.

“What speaks without a mouth, hears without ears, has no body, but comes alive with wind?”

Kairos had to think it through for precious, precious seconds before he figured out an answer. “An echo.”

Damn it, the sphinx’s riddles distracted him from an already hard task!

“What goes up for you, but never comes down?”

“Your—” Your fame? Your wealth? No, something else. Time. “Your age!”

“Now that was rude,” Aglaonice replied with a snort. “I’m tall when I’m young, and I’m short when I’m old. What am I?”

Kairos figured out the answer, but instead of answering immediately, quickly glanced at the hourglass, watching the sand tickling down. Around half of his time was wasted, and he hadn’t completed a single face!

There had to be a way to solve this cube quickly. “A candle,” Kairos answered before the thirty second limit was up.

“What belongs to you, but everyone else uses it?”

Your time, Kairos almost answered, before realizing it didn’t fit. “Your name,” he answered, deciding to try completing a cube’s face one by one. Which proved harder than it seemed.

“The more of this there is, the less you see. What is it?”

By the time she had asked her question, he tried multiple combinations to no avail. Wait, the corners! he thought, and everything became much easier. ”Darkness!”

“What’s going to run out in one minute?” she asked with a coy grin.

That smug bitch… “My time,” Kairos replied, grinding his teeth as he completed the first layer.

“What will I do when it runs out?” she asked, as he completed the middle layer.

The answer came with the bottom layer.

“Lose,” Kairos replied, slamming the completed cube on the table before the last drops of sand could fall. His motion made the glass hourglass tremble.

For a moment, Aglaonice’s mind couldn’t process what happened. She blinked a few times, then tipped the cube over to check the faces while Kairos recovered his breath. His fingers trembled from the stress.

“No!” Aglaonice snarled angrily, as she realized that her foe had successfully completed the cube puzzle. “No way!”

“I’m not going to lie, that was close,” the [Rogue] admitted. “That was truly close. You almost got me.”

“Almost is not enough!” The sore loser violently slammed the table with her paw, sending it flying against a wall. The cube bounced off the stone, while the hourglass shattered into shards and sprayed sand on the floor. “You have a puzzle-solving Skill! That is the only explanation!”

“You already saw my stats,” Kairos replied, after recovering. “You know that I have no such advantage. Admit it, you lost!”

She responded by leaping at him, claws out.

Kairos instinctively reached for the spear, but Aglaonice was swift as a panther. She landed on him like a cat on a mouse, forcing him to his back and pinning him to the ground with one paw. Her eyes burnt with fury, her claws grazing the armor beneath his [Golden Fleece] cloak.

‘Kairos?’ Rook called through their [Animal Companion] telepathic link. ‘Is everything alright? I heard noise.’

‘I’m good,’ Kairos thought back. If he had been in actual danger, the Furies’ shadows would have shown up to enforce the oath. This was just for show. ‘She’s just a sore loser.’

‘You won? Of course you won. Now, rub your victory in her silly face!’

“I haven’t lost yet,” Aglaonice said, as if she had read her opponent’s mind. “You owe me a riddle.”

“Are you sure?” Kairos asked calmly, unimpressed. “No take-backsies.”

In response, the sphinx lowered her human face to the [Hero] hair, and smelled it.

It might have vaguely been erotic... if she weren’t an animal from the chest down.

“Your wit excites me, manling,” Aglaonice whispered into his ear. “I enjoy this game. But if there is an answer to your riddle, then I will figure it out. No loopholes.”

Here goes nothing, Kairos thought. “Can an omnipotent being create a stone too heavy for them to lift?”

Aglaonice scowled, her head moving away from her foe’s. “If by omnipotent, you mean ‘can do anything according to their nature’—”

“I mean omnipotent as ‘can do anything,’ period,” Kairos said, preventing her from using a loophole.

“Then this question is a logical fallacy!” Aglaonice said angrily, grinding her teeth together. “You ask a question that has no answer, therefore it is not valid!”

“And yet there is an answer.” Now it was Kairos’ time to act smug. “If you can figure it out.”

“You lie.”

“If I tell you the answer, you lose automatically. Are you willing to risk it?”

“You are trying to bluff,” she said, her claws sinking into his armor. “You are playing on my nerves. Trying to make me say the wrong answer, so you can claim victory without showing your hand. There is no answer. None that will work.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said, sealing her fate.

Very well.

“The being is omnipotent until they have created the stone, after which they aren’t,” Kairos replied. “If a being can do anything, then it should be able to create its own limits.”

Aglaonice looked into his eyes, looked at the ceiling in puzzlement, and then frowned. “Highly debatable,” she said while staring back at Kairos, half-convinced.

“But it is an acceptable answer.”

The sphinx snorted, looking down on Kairos. “How long did you ponder that riddle, manling?”

Kairos sighed. “All of the trip from my home to this place.”

She looked downright insulted.

“You know what, fine!” Aglaonice snarled at his face, before removing her paw from his chest. “You win! You win, is that what you want to hear, you treacherous, despicable manling?! I acted towards you with generosity, kindness, and loyalty, and you repay me with mockery! After I treated you as if you were my own mate!”

“That really doesn’t say much,” Kairos deadpanned, as he sat back on his pillows. “You owe me answers.”

“Fine, fine.” Aglaonice adjusted her hair. “Tell me... have you ever heard of the [Trident of Poseidon]?”

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A/N: chapter made possible by you, dear patrons.

Next time, the Atlantis arc!