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Billa's dark gaze slid away from the small boy lying prone on the cot in her small hut. With the rest of the boys laying on the floor with bed rolls and blankets and Skylla laying a little closer to the fire, her tiny body relaxed even though her mother knew she would be complaining about the hard floor before long. Billa observed them all silently, needing to take her eyes off of Galen for just one second. After sitting by his side all night, listening to his breathing growing sharper and sharper and then softer all at once, she needed a break.
She wouldn't take one.
Her hand reached over to smooth Galen's wild hair out of his face, coming back with a thin sheen of sweat on her palm. Breathing delicately through her nose, she leaned over to the bucket beside her, ripping the rag in her other hand into the water and then squeezing it out slowly. Water dripped back into the bucket in a cascade that Billa didn't worry about being too loud or too quiet. She could see the sun starting to rise through one of the few small windows in the hut and she would soon kick all of the small children out to play outside.
Scooting closer, the young mother couldn't help but feel the same resentment she'd felt toward Sophos the day before. His innate lack of care for anyone or anything, specifically children, was infuriating. Would she do anything about it? No. She'd long learned that opening her mouth meant that she, too, got smacked about. For the safety of her daughter and herself, she knew better. Sophos didn't particularly care about his spawn, either. Sometimes Billa thought Skylla took it personally, others she thought she saw the slightest glimmer of hatred in the little girl's eyes.
This couldn't end badly, could it?
Leaning over Galen, she listen to the rattling in his chest, squeezing her eyes shut to fight off the wave of emotion that hit her all at once. Swallowing sharply, she lifted her head and then pushed to her feet, navigating through the maze of small child bodies and going to the shelf that she kept all of her medicines on. She went for the strongest painkiller she knew she had, not wanting Galen to feel anymore pain as the gods took him. The sharp glinting of gold across the shelf caught her eye and she also reached for the small pile of coins that she kept for just this occasion. Those who passed still needed to pay the ferryman. With the small vial and one gold coin in hand, it just took a few drops into his mouth to silence some of the sounds of distress the young boy made as he breathed.
Billa did not jump when tiny hands splayed on her legs, Skylla having woken and come to her mother, watching Galen with wide eyes. Billa reached forward and ran her fingers through Skylla's wild hair, "Can you get the rest of the boys up?" she asked very quietly, "Bring them outside and show them around the village," Billa said very softly, turning her daughter around by placing both of her hands on her shoulders and twisting her about.
There was a pause and then Billa held the coin over Skylla's shoulder, "Take this to Helen," she instructed slowly, "I'll need her assistance," she finished. "Go on," the girls mother swated her behind.
Skylla took hold of the coin, her eyes going wide as she tried to look at Galen again. Billa turned her right back around and motioned her to the sleeping boys. "The sun is rising, boys," Billa said in a stern voice loud enough to wake the group. Galen stirred very slightly, but did nothing more. Billa tried not to flinch. "That means you play outside until breakfast," Billa said just as sternly. "Come on. Up up. Out," Billa said loudly. Skylla went around to poke each boy in turn, holding the coin tightly in her palm, unable to keep the grave look off of her face.
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Billa's dark gaze slid away from the small boy lying prone on the cot in her small hut. With the rest of the boys laying on the floor with bed rolls and blankets and Skylla laying a little closer to the fire, her tiny body relaxed even though her mother knew she would be complaining about the hard floor before long. Billa observed them all silently, needing to take her eyes off of Galen for just one second. After sitting by his side all night, listening to his breathing growing sharper and sharper and then softer all at once, she needed a break.
She wouldn't take one.
Her hand reached over to smooth Galen's wild hair out of his face, coming back with a thin sheen of sweat on her palm. Breathing delicately through her nose, she leaned over to the bucket beside her, ripping the rag in her other hand into the water and then squeezing it out slowly. Water dripped back into the bucket in a cascade that Billa didn't worry about being too loud or too quiet. She could see the sun starting to rise through one of the few small windows in the hut and she would soon kick all of the small children out to play outside.
Scooting closer, the young mother couldn't help but feel the same resentment she'd felt toward Sophos the day before. His innate lack of care for anyone or anything, specifically children, was infuriating. Would she do anything about it? No. She'd long learned that opening her mouth meant that she, too, got smacked about. For the safety of her daughter and herself, she knew better. Sophos didn't particularly care about his spawn, either. Sometimes Billa thought Skylla took it personally, others she thought she saw the slightest glimmer of hatred in the little girl's eyes.
This couldn't end badly, could it?
Leaning over Galen, she listen to the rattling in his chest, squeezing her eyes shut to fight off the wave of emotion that hit her all at once. Swallowing sharply, she lifted her head and then pushed to her feet, navigating through the maze of small child bodies and going to the shelf that she kept all of her medicines on. She went for the strongest painkiller she knew she had, not wanting Galen to feel anymore pain as the gods took him. The sharp glinting of gold across the shelf caught her eye and she also reached for the small pile of coins that she kept for just this occasion. Those who passed still needed to pay the ferryman. With the small vial and one gold coin in hand, it just took a few drops into his mouth to silence some of the sounds of distress the young boy made as he breathed.
Billa did not jump when tiny hands splayed on her legs, Skylla having woken and come to her mother, watching Galen with wide eyes. Billa reached forward and ran her fingers through Skylla's wild hair, "Can you get the rest of the boys up?" she asked very quietly, "Bring them outside and show them around the village," Billa said very softly, turning her daughter around by placing both of her hands on her shoulders and twisting her about.
There was a pause and then Billa held the coin over Skylla's shoulder, "Take this to Helen," she instructed slowly, "I'll need her assistance," she finished. "Go on," the girls mother swated her behind.
Skylla took hold of the coin, her eyes going wide as she tried to look at Galen again. Billa turned her right back around and motioned her to the sleeping boys. "The sun is rising, boys," Billa said in a stern voice loud enough to wake the group. Galen stirred very slightly, but did nothing more. Billa tried not to flinch. "That means you play outside until breakfast," Billa said just as sternly. "Come on. Up up. Out," Billa said loudly. Skylla went around to poke each boy in turn, holding the coin tightly in her palm, unable to keep the grave look off of her face.
Billa's dark gaze slid away from the small boy lying prone on the cot in her small hut. With the rest of the boys laying on the floor with bed rolls and blankets and Skylla laying a little closer to the fire, her tiny body relaxed even though her mother knew she would be complaining about the hard floor before long. Billa observed them all silently, needing to take her eyes off of Galen for just one second. After sitting by his side all night, listening to his breathing growing sharper and sharper and then softer all at once, she needed a break.
She wouldn't take one.
Her hand reached over to smooth Galen's wild hair out of his face, coming back with a thin sheen of sweat on her palm. Breathing delicately through her nose, she leaned over to the bucket beside her, ripping the rag in her other hand into the water and then squeezing it out slowly. Water dripped back into the bucket in a cascade that Billa didn't worry about being too loud or too quiet. She could see the sun starting to rise through one of the few small windows in the hut and she would soon kick all of the small children out to play outside.
Scooting closer, the young mother couldn't help but feel the same resentment she'd felt toward Sophos the day before. His innate lack of care for anyone or anything, specifically children, was infuriating. Would she do anything about it? No. She'd long learned that opening her mouth meant that she, too, got smacked about. For the safety of her daughter and herself, she knew better. Sophos didn't particularly care about his spawn, either. Sometimes Billa thought Skylla took it personally, others she thought she saw the slightest glimmer of hatred in the little girl's eyes.
This couldn't end badly, could it?
Leaning over Galen, she listen to the rattling in his chest, squeezing her eyes shut to fight off the wave of emotion that hit her all at once. Swallowing sharply, she lifted her head and then pushed to her feet, navigating through the maze of small child bodies and going to the shelf that she kept all of her medicines on. She went for the strongest painkiller she knew she had, not wanting Galen to feel anymore pain as the gods took him. The sharp glinting of gold across the shelf caught her eye and she also reached for the small pile of coins that she kept for just this occasion. Those who passed still needed to pay the ferryman. With the small vial and one gold coin in hand, it just took a few drops into his mouth to silence some of the sounds of distress the young boy made as he breathed.
Billa did not jump when tiny hands splayed on her legs, Skylla having woken and come to her mother, watching Galen with wide eyes. Billa reached forward and ran her fingers through Skylla's wild hair, "Can you get the rest of the boys up?" she asked very quietly, "Bring them outside and show them around the village," Billa said very softly, turning her daughter around by placing both of her hands on her shoulders and twisting her about.
There was a pause and then Billa held the coin over Skylla's shoulder, "Take this to Helen," she instructed slowly, "I'll need her assistance," she finished. "Go on," the girls mother swated her behind.
Skylla took hold of the coin, her eyes going wide as she tried to look at Galen again. Billa turned her right back around and motioned her to the sleeping boys. "The sun is rising, boys," Billa said in a stern voice loud enough to wake the group. Galen stirred very slightly, but did nothing more. Billa tried not to flinch. "That means you play outside until breakfast," Billa said just as sternly. "Come on. Up up. Out," Billa said loudly. Skylla went around to poke each boy in turn, holding the coin tightly in her palm, unable to keep the grave look off of her face.
He’d stirred a little when he half perceived a presence stepping over him, lingering, and then going away again, but Lukos drifted back into heavy sleep. It wasn’t until Billa’s stern voice broke over them that he turned over, flopping the other way, immediately recoiled from the bruising he’d momentarily forgotten about from the fight in the cage last night, and then finally opened his eyes as Skylla whispered to him to get up. Leveling the little girl with a look of dislike, he didn’t relish the thought of ‘playing’ outside, but nor did he want to stay in here. At eight years old, he did not totally understand that the boy on the cot beside Billa was dying. He didn’t understand that Billa, as the only adult in the hut, was trying to shoo them out to spare them witnessing Galen’s death. What he did understand was that something was wrong. Galen should have been waking up with the rest of them, but he wasn’t.
Lukos stood, lingering for a few seconds, trying to get a better look at the other boy. Even as young as he was, Lukos had seen death. One didn’t work in the mines of Magnemea and not see it. Though he hadn’t held a pickax, and had been one of the boys who hauled water or baskets of rock to the surface, he had seen men fall over where they stood and lay there, no matter how hard they were whipped by a task master and bawled at to stand. Galen looked like that now. Too still for the life happening around him.
Someone tugged on Lukos’s sleeve and he took one step backward, two, and then finally turned when his heels hit the raised beam of the doorway, and crossed the threshold into the warm morning light. He blinked, yawned, and stretched. The day was too beautiful to be much troubled by what he’d seen. Like all children, he had moments of understanding dawning horror, but the blessed capacity to forget it the next moment when a more pleasant distraction came. At this moment, they were presented with the task of following Skylla on her mission to get whoever Helen was.
Between the boys and Skylla, it became a game. They mimicked Skylla’s every move, each boy, to a one, pretending to carry a coin and walking exactly where and how she did. If she reprimanded them, they’d make sneering impersonations of her. If she ignored them, they haughtily portrayed that, too, in the horrible, accurate way that children are capable of.
Lukos was no exception. In fact, he was the one right behind Skylla and pulled her hair when she looked the most at ease. He looked toward the sky, feigning innocence, fully planning on yanking her hair again when she turned back around. This was fun. This was familiar. This was way better than thinking about a boy who wasn’t moving on a cot.
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He’d stirred a little when he half perceived a presence stepping over him, lingering, and then going away again, but Lukos drifted back into heavy sleep. It wasn’t until Billa’s stern voice broke over them that he turned over, flopping the other way, immediately recoiled from the bruising he’d momentarily forgotten about from the fight in the cage last night, and then finally opened his eyes as Skylla whispered to him to get up. Leveling the little girl with a look of dislike, he didn’t relish the thought of ‘playing’ outside, but nor did he want to stay in here. At eight years old, he did not totally understand that the boy on the cot beside Billa was dying. He didn’t understand that Billa, as the only adult in the hut, was trying to shoo them out to spare them witnessing Galen’s death. What he did understand was that something was wrong. Galen should have been waking up with the rest of them, but he wasn’t.
Lukos stood, lingering for a few seconds, trying to get a better look at the other boy. Even as young as he was, Lukos had seen death. One didn’t work in the mines of Magnemea and not see it. Though he hadn’t held a pickax, and had been one of the boys who hauled water or baskets of rock to the surface, he had seen men fall over where they stood and lay there, no matter how hard they were whipped by a task master and bawled at to stand. Galen looked like that now. Too still for the life happening around him.
Someone tugged on Lukos’s sleeve and he took one step backward, two, and then finally turned when his heels hit the raised beam of the doorway, and crossed the threshold into the warm morning light. He blinked, yawned, and stretched. The day was too beautiful to be much troubled by what he’d seen. Like all children, he had moments of understanding dawning horror, but the blessed capacity to forget it the next moment when a more pleasant distraction came. At this moment, they were presented with the task of following Skylla on her mission to get whoever Helen was.
Between the boys and Skylla, it became a game. They mimicked Skylla’s every move, each boy, to a one, pretending to carry a coin and walking exactly where and how she did. If she reprimanded them, they’d make sneering impersonations of her. If she ignored them, they haughtily portrayed that, too, in the horrible, accurate way that children are capable of.
Lukos was no exception. In fact, he was the one right behind Skylla and pulled her hair when she looked the most at ease. He looked toward the sky, feigning innocence, fully planning on yanking her hair again when she turned back around. This was fun. This was familiar. This was way better than thinking about a boy who wasn’t moving on a cot.
He’d stirred a little when he half perceived a presence stepping over him, lingering, and then going away again, but Lukos drifted back into heavy sleep. It wasn’t until Billa’s stern voice broke over them that he turned over, flopping the other way, immediately recoiled from the bruising he’d momentarily forgotten about from the fight in the cage last night, and then finally opened his eyes as Skylla whispered to him to get up. Leveling the little girl with a look of dislike, he didn’t relish the thought of ‘playing’ outside, but nor did he want to stay in here. At eight years old, he did not totally understand that the boy on the cot beside Billa was dying. He didn’t understand that Billa, as the only adult in the hut, was trying to shoo them out to spare them witnessing Galen’s death. What he did understand was that something was wrong. Galen should have been waking up with the rest of them, but he wasn’t.
Lukos stood, lingering for a few seconds, trying to get a better look at the other boy. Even as young as he was, Lukos had seen death. One didn’t work in the mines of Magnemea and not see it. Though he hadn’t held a pickax, and had been one of the boys who hauled water or baskets of rock to the surface, he had seen men fall over where they stood and lay there, no matter how hard they were whipped by a task master and bawled at to stand. Galen looked like that now. Too still for the life happening around him.
Someone tugged on Lukos’s sleeve and he took one step backward, two, and then finally turned when his heels hit the raised beam of the doorway, and crossed the threshold into the warm morning light. He blinked, yawned, and stretched. The day was too beautiful to be much troubled by what he’d seen. Like all children, he had moments of understanding dawning horror, but the blessed capacity to forget it the next moment when a more pleasant distraction came. At this moment, they were presented with the task of following Skylla on her mission to get whoever Helen was.
Between the boys and Skylla, it became a game. They mimicked Skylla’s every move, each boy, to a one, pretending to carry a coin and walking exactly where and how she did. If she reprimanded them, they’d make sneering impersonations of her. If she ignored them, they haughtily portrayed that, too, in the horrible, accurate way that children are capable of.
Lukos was no exception. In fact, he was the one right behind Skylla and pulled her hair when she looked the most at ease. He looked toward the sky, feigning innocence, fully planning on yanking her hair again when she turned back around. This was fun. This was familiar. This was way better than thinking about a boy who wasn’t moving on a cot.
Skylla was not pleased with the way that the boys followed her through the tiny little village. If it could even be considered that. They were mostly shacks, honestly, and hardly sturdy if the right wind caught them. Some of the island goers lived in sturdier buildings, having put in the effort to find enough stone and mud to put a stable home together for themselves. All of them had the same dusty, dirt floor, however, and Skylla had never even imagined what it would be like to have marble underfoot. At six, she really didn't even understand what marble was and she couldn't tell anyone the difference between different stones.
She could tell someone that the little bits of shiny, smooth, clear stones she found on the beach were her favorite. Billa had long made Skylla a little wicker box to save them in, noting that one day she could make pretty jewelry out of them and the other little shells they found on the gleaming sands. That was what she was trying to think about instead of the coin in her hand and the way the other boys mocked everything about her, down to the way that she walked.
The third time that Lukos tugged on her hair when the little girl found a moment to actually relax on their walk, she hauled right around and attempted to sock him right in the mouth, looking irritable. "Stop pulling my hair!" she shrieked in that tone of a child's that could shatter even the heaviest of pottery. He made her so mad already and she wasn't in the mood to be bothered like this. She knew what was going on. She understood. She had seen Billa work with enough men and women to know what the coin meant and why Helen was being called upon.
Little Skylla did not think, not once, that these boys could overpower her so easily, nor that her temper could earn her worse than some pulled hair. "You're so mean. All I've tried to be is nice. Who taught you manners? A horse? Horses don't have manners. You're... you're just a stupid horse!" Then she turned around and started to flounce off in the awkward gait of a child, trying her bestest to ignore Lukos most especially. He was mean. He didn't deserve her attention. That was what Billa always said. Boys who were mean to you didn't deserve you.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Skylla was not pleased with the way that the boys followed her through the tiny little village. If it could even be considered that. They were mostly shacks, honestly, and hardly sturdy if the right wind caught them. Some of the island goers lived in sturdier buildings, having put in the effort to find enough stone and mud to put a stable home together for themselves. All of them had the same dusty, dirt floor, however, and Skylla had never even imagined what it would be like to have marble underfoot. At six, she really didn't even understand what marble was and she couldn't tell anyone the difference between different stones.
She could tell someone that the little bits of shiny, smooth, clear stones she found on the beach were her favorite. Billa had long made Skylla a little wicker box to save them in, noting that one day she could make pretty jewelry out of them and the other little shells they found on the gleaming sands. That was what she was trying to think about instead of the coin in her hand and the way the other boys mocked everything about her, down to the way that she walked.
The third time that Lukos tugged on her hair when the little girl found a moment to actually relax on their walk, she hauled right around and attempted to sock him right in the mouth, looking irritable. "Stop pulling my hair!" she shrieked in that tone of a child's that could shatter even the heaviest of pottery. He made her so mad already and she wasn't in the mood to be bothered like this. She knew what was going on. She understood. She had seen Billa work with enough men and women to know what the coin meant and why Helen was being called upon.
Little Skylla did not think, not once, that these boys could overpower her so easily, nor that her temper could earn her worse than some pulled hair. "You're so mean. All I've tried to be is nice. Who taught you manners? A horse? Horses don't have manners. You're... you're just a stupid horse!" Then she turned around and started to flounce off in the awkward gait of a child, trying her bestest to ignore Lukos most especially. He was mean. He didn't deserve her attention. That was what Billa always said. Boys who were mean to you didn't deserve you.
Skylla was not pleased with the way that the boys followed her through the tiny little village. If it could even be considered that. They were mostly shacks, honestly, and hardly sturdy if the right wind caught them. Some of the island goers lived in sturdier buildings, having put in the effort to find enough stone and mud to put a stable home together for themselves. All of them had the same dusty, dirt floor, however, and Skylla had never even imagined what it would be like to have marble underfoot. At six, she really didn't even understand what marble was and she couldn't tell anyone the difference between different stones.
She could tell someone that the little bits of shiny, smooth, clear stones she found on the beach were her favorite. Billa had long made Skylla a little wicker box to save them in, noting that one day she could make pretty jewelry out of them and the other little shells they found on the gleaming sands. That was what she was trying to think about instead of the coin in her hand and the way the other boys mocked everything about her, down to the way that she walked.
The third time that Lukos tugged on her hair when the little girl found a moment to actually relax on their walk, she hauled right around and attempted to sock him right in the mouth, looking irritable. "Stop pulling my hair!" she shrieked in that tone of a child's that could shatter even the heaviest of pottery. He made her so mad already and she wasn't in the mood to be bothered like this. She knew what was going on. She understood. She had seen Billa work with enough men and women to know what the coin meant and why Helen was being called upon.
Little Skylla did not think, not once, that these boys could overpower her so easily, nor that her temper could earn her worse than some pulled hair. "You're so mean. All I've tried to be is nice. Who taught you manners? A horse? Horses don't have manners. You're... you're just a stupid horse!" Then she turned around and started to flounce off in the awkward gait of a child, trying her bestest to ignore Lukos most especially. He was mean. He didn't deserve her attention. That was what Billa always said. Boys who were mean to you didn't deserve you.
Back home, where his mother could keep a better eye on him, Lukos likely would not have joined a group of boys in picking on a little girl. He’d have been following after his mother while she worked or seeing to his own chores. Or if they happened to be in the mining province, he’d be down in the mines, carrying stones to baskets and then hauling the baskets to the surface, or wandering through the dark depths with a skin of water for as many workers as it would help. Not that there was never time for play, but the child of a servant played much less than those of free men. But here, where there was such a lack of direction and so very little to do, the boys had formed a pack mentality and Skylla, being one of the more precocious children on the island, was their natural target.
What Lukos hadn’t expected, when he’d pulled on her hair that last time, was for her to round on him. Nor had he expected the punch to the mouth. He didn’t understand her shrill shriek. He was knocked flat on his butt, holding his teeth and pulling his hand back to see if there was any blood. She kept on shrieking at them, something about horses, but he wasn’t listening. A mild mannered boy at home, he’d already learned that didn’t work here. Some of the other boys who were now gawking at him were vicious about food, as though they didn’t get enough of it, and none of them were able to eat their fill on this island. Almost a week of being only half sated was already getting to them. Lukos was learning that if he wanted something, he’d have to take it and right now? He wanted her to cry.
“Get her!” he bellowed, scrambling up. Sand flew in all directions as the boys tore after her like hounds on the scent of a fox. “YEAH YOU BETTER RUN!” Lukos’s voice, high pitched and clear in the way of adolescents, echoed off the faded, salt washed houses of the narrow village. One of the larger of the boys caught up with Skylla first and pushed her hard but it was Lukos who dove on top of her.
“Don’t like your hair pulled?” he taunted, yanking a fistfull of it. “DON’T HIT ME!” It didn’t occur to any of the children that their scuffle might attract the attention of an adult. Nor did they particularly care if it did. Even now, one of the sailors on Sophos’s ship merely walked around the tussle on his way to deliver something to the ship. One of the island wives poked her head out but instead of doing anything, she merely wandered in the direction of Billa’s hut - in no particular hurry.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Back home, where his mother could keep a better eye on him, Lukos likely would not have joined a group of boys in picking on a little girl. He’d have been following after his mother while she worked or seeing to his own chores. Or if they happened to be in the mining province, he’d be down in the mines, carrying stones to baskets and then hauling the baskets to the surface, or wandering through the dark depths with a skin of water for as many workers as it would help. Not that there was never time for play, but the child of a servant played much less than those of free men. But here, where there was such a lack of direction and so very little to do, the boys had formed a pack mentality and Skylla, being one of the more precocious children on the island, was their natural target.
What Lukos hadn’t expected, when he’d pulled on her hair that last time, was for her to round on him. Nor had he expected the punch to the mouth. He didn’t understand her shrill shriek. He was knocked flat on his butt, holding his teeth and pulling his hand back to see if there was any blood. She kept on shrieking at them, something about horses, but he wasn’t listening. A mild mannered boy at home, he’d already learned that didn’t work here. Some of the other boys who were now gawking at him were vicious about food, as though they didn’t get enough of it, and none of them were able to eat their fill on this island. Almost a week of being only half sated was already getting to them. Lukos was learning that if he wanted something, he’d have to take it and right now? He wanted her to cry.
“Get her!” he bellowed, scrambling up. Sand flew in all directions as the boys tore after her like hounds on the scent of a fox. “YEAH YOU BETTER RUN!” Lukos’s voice, high pitched and clear in the way of adolescents, echoed off the faded, salt washed houses of the narrow village. One of the larger of the boys caught up with Skylla first and pushed her hard but it was Lukos who dove on top of her.
“Don’t like your hair pulled?” he taunted, yanking a fistfull of it. “DON’T HIT ME!” It didn’t occur to any of the children that their scuffle might attract the attention of an adult. Nor did they particularly care if it did. Even now, one of the sailors on Sophos’s ship merely walked around the tussle on his way to deliver something to the ship. One of the island wives poked her head out but instead of doing anything, she merely wandered in the direction of Billa’s hut - in no particular hurry.
Back home, where his mother could keep a better eye on him, Lukos likely would not have joined a group of boys in picking on a little girl. He’d have been following after his mother while she worked or seeing to his own chores. Or if they happened to be in the mining province, he’d be down in the mines, carrying stones to baskets and then hauling the baskets to the surface, or wandering through the dark depths with a skin of water for as many workers as it would help. Not that there was never time for play, but the child of a servant played much less than those of free men. But here, where there was such a lack of direction and so very little to do, the boys had formed a pack mentality and Skylla, being one of the more precocious children on the island, was their natural target.
What Lukos hadn’t expected, when he’d pulled on her hair that last time, was for her to round on him. Nor had he expected the punch to the mouth. He didn’t understand her shrill shriek. He was knocked flat on his butt, holding his teeth and pulling his hand back to see if there was any blood. She kept on shrieking at them, something about horses, but he wasn’t listening. A mild mannered boy at home, he’d already learned that didn’t work here. Some of the other boys who were now gawking at him were vicious about food, as though they didn’t get enough of it, and none of them were able to eat their fill on this island. Almost a week of being only half sated was already getting to them. Lukos was learning that if he wanted something, he’d have to take it and right now? He wanted her to cry.
“Get her!” he bellowed, scrambling up. Sand flew in all directions as the boys tore after her like hounds on the scent of a fox. “YEAH YOU BETTER RUN!” Lukos’s voice, high pitched and clear in the way of adolescents, echoed off the faded, salt washed houses of the narrow village. One of the larger of the boys caught up with Skylla first and pushed her hard but it was Lukos who dove on top of her.
“Don’t like your hair pulled?” he taunted, yanking a fistfull of it. “DON’T HIT ME!” It didn’t occur to any of the children that their scuffle might attract the attention of an adult. Nor did they particularly care if it did. Even now, one of the sailors on Sophos’s ship merely walked around the tussle on his way to deliver something to the ship. One of the island wives poked her head out but instead of doing anything, she merely wandered in the direction of Billa’s hut - in no particular hurry.
She wasn’t scared of these boys. They had come here scared and they were turning into stupid brutes, just like her daddy. He had that thought, remember her mother saying something akin to the same thing. Sophos was a brute and Skylla really couldn’t argue… even though she desperately sought out his approval for anything and everything that she did. Everything would be so much better if her father would even smile at her. Nicely. Not in that weird way that made her uncomfortable; like he was planning something that she really didn’t want to be part of.
But she really wasn’t scared. If anything, she was even more angry that these kids decided that she was the one that was to be picked on. After everything she had done for them. Getting them out of that big cage up on the hill. How absolutely ungrateful. They should have been ashamed. She wasn’t. Lukos had deserved to be punched right in the mouth. People didn’t mess with her. She was the bully. Skylla. Sophos’ daughter. She was the child queen here and they would figure that out soon enough, she was sure.
Skylla did run, however. She wasn’t scared of them, but she didn’t want to be punished either way. Pain didn’t bother her, she had felt enough of it even at her age to be a little numb to it. Sometimes Sophos swatted her. Sometimes momma did. But these boys were being more aggressive than momma was and Skylla squeaked loudly when one of the bigger boys pushed her down onto the ground. The little girl reached forward, putting her hands down before her so that she didn’t land straight on her head. Instead, she scraped her palms to all Hades, gritting her teeth irritably.
Honestly, she was about to turn around and wail on the next boy to pick on her… but that ended up being Lukos and she shrieked this time, not liking how he pulled on her hair. She jerked her elbow back against his chest and struggling beneath him. “Do you like your hair pulled, you cow?!” Skylla screamed back at Lukos, trying to get in the boy’s face out of her own bit of rage. Now, she was just thinking about escape and she remembered one of the many helpful lessons that momma had taught her.
Boys were so sensitive between their legs. She hadn’t really connected that statement to pleasure or babies, but she had connected it to pain. And already she was shifting beneath Lukos, aiming to bring her little knee up between his legs so that maybe he’d learn a lesson not to come after her in the way that he was right then. Snarling at him, she jerked her knee up, trying her hardest to get Lukos off of her, in the dirtiest way possible. If Lukos wasn’t going to fight fair, then neither was she.
Served him right.
Stupid cow. He could go right back up that hill to that cage for all she cared in that moment.
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She wasn’t scared of these boys. They had come here scared and they were turning into stupid brutes, just like her daddy. He had that thought, remember her mother saying something akin to the same thing. Sophos was a brute and Skylla really couldn’t argue… even though she desperately sought out his approval for anything and everything that she did. Everything would be so much better if her father would even smile at her. Nicely. Not in that weird way that made her uncomfortable; like he was planning something that she really didn’t want to be part of.
But she really wasn’t scared. If anything, she was even more angry that these kids decided that she was the one that was to be picked on. After everything she had done for them. Getting them out of that big cage up on the hill. How absolutely ungrateful. They should have been ashamed. She wasn’t. Lukos had deserved to be punched right in the mouth. People didn’t mess with her. She was the bully. Skylla. Sophos’ daughter. She was the child queen here and they would figure that out soon enough, she was sure.
Skylla did run, however. She wasn’t scared of them, but she didn’t want to be punished either way. Pain didn’t bother her, she had felt enough of it even at her age to be a little numb to it. Sometimes Sophos swatted her. Sometimes momma did. But these boys were being more aggressive than momma was and Skylla squeaked loudly when one of the bigger boys pushed her down onto the ground. The little girl reached forward, putting her hands down before her so that she didn’t land straight on her head. Instead, she scraped her palms to all Hades, gritting her teeth irritably.
Honestly, she was about to turn around and wail on the next boy to pick on her… but that ended up being Lukos and she shrieked this time, not liking how he pulled on her hair. She jerked her elbow back against his chest and struggling beneath him. “Do you like your hair pulled, you cow?!” Skylla screamed back at Lukos, trying to get in the boy’s face out of her own bit of rage. Now, she was just thinking about escape and she remembered one of the many helpful lessons that momma had taught her.
Boys were so sensitive between their legs. She hadn’t really connected that statement to pleasure or babies, but she had connected it to pain. And already she was shifting beneath Lukos, aiming to bring her little knee up between his legs so that maybe he’d learn a lesson not to come after her in the way that he was right then. Snarling at him, she jerked her knee up, trying her hardest to get Lukos off of her, in the dirtiest way possible. If Lukos wasn’t going to fight fair, then neither was she.
Served him right.
Stupid cow. He could go right back up that hill to that cage for all she cared in that moment.
She wasn’t scared of these boys. They had come here scared and they were turning into stupid brutes, just like her daddy. He had that thought, remember her mother saying something akin to the same thing. Sophos was a brute and Skylla really couldn’t argue… even though she desperately sought out his approval for anything and everything that she did. Everything would be so much better if her father would even smile at her. Nicely. Not in that weird way that made her uncomfortable; like he was planning something that she really didn’t want to be part of.
But she really wasn’t scared. If anything, she was even more angry that these kids decided that she was the one that was to be picked on. After everything she had done for them. Getting them out of that big cage up on the hill. How absolutely ungrateful. They should have been ashamed. She wasn’t. Lukos had deserved to be punched right in the mouth. People didn’t mess with her. She was the bully. Skylla. Sophos’ daughter. She was the child queen here and they would figure that out soon enough, she was sure.
Skylla did run, however. She wasn’t scared of them, but she didn’t want to be punished either way. Pain didn’t bother her, she had felt enough of it even at her age to be a little numb to it. Sometimes Sophos swatted her. Sometimes momma did. But these boys were being more aggressive than momma was and Skylla squeaked loudly when one of the bigger boys pushed her down onto the ground. The little girl reached forward, putting her hands down before her so that she didn’t land straight on her head. Instead, she scraped her palms to all Hades, gritting her teeth irritably.
Honestly, she was about to turn around and wail on the next boy to pick on her… but that ended up being Lukos and she shrieked this time, not liking how he pulled on her hair. She jerked her elbow back against his chest and struggling beneath him. “Do you like your hair pulled, you cow?!” Skylla screamed back at Lukos, trying to get in the boy’s face out of her own bit of rage. Now, she was just thinking about escape and she remembered one of the many helpful lessons that momma had taught her.
Boys were so sensitive between their legs. She hadn’t really connected that statement to pleasure or babies, but she had connected it to pain. And already she was shifting beneath Lukos, aiming to bring her little knee up between his legs so that maybe he’d learn a lesson not to come after her in the way that he was right then. Snarling at him, she jerked her knee up, trying her hardest to get Lukos off of her, in the dirtiest way possible. If Lukos wasn’t going to fight fair, then neither was she.
Served him right.
Stupid cow. He could go right back up that hill to that cage for all she cared in that moment.
Her hair was still wound between his fingers while he pummeled her. He was a far cry from the terror he’d be later, though, and his punches were that of a child. They’d hurt, of course, but they weren’t dangerous. All around them the boys bellowed and jeered, flinging sand that stung his face as well as flinging it on Skylla. She fought him like a little demon child, screaming and pulling his hair in return. She was in his face, her breath and spit coating his skin. He rolled the two of them sideways in the scuffle, forcing the ring of boys around them to expand and then breakup all together.
Their rolling sent them tumbling across the lane and then back again like tangled, writhing balls of fury caught in ocean waves. It ended the same, with her beneath him but there was a problem he didn’t foresee. Skylla’s knee. With a growl that sounded every bit like a spitting kitten, Skylla’s knee surged upwards, connecting straight into Lukos’s balls. He saw stars. Overwhelming nausea gushed inside his stomach. His hands flew to cradle his privates as he fell sideways, face first into the sand. Was he going to vomit? He might vomit. Lukos lay like that for what felt like forever but it was truly only a few seconds.
The other boys, though, instinctively felt his pain and they were not going to let a little girl harm one of their own like that. “GET HER!” one of the other boys shouted. Five pairs of hands grabbed out for Skylla, intending to hold her until Lukos could take his rightful revenge.
Lukos, meanwhile, was spitting sand out of his mouth and testing to see whether or not he’d live through this by groaning and getting onto his hands and knees. His coils of dark hair hung in his face, sprinkled with sand and grit. Blood dripped from his open mouth from where she’d punched him in the teeth, and the first of the murderous malevolence he’d become so used to feeling flitted into his black eyes.
Sucking air into his lungs, he wibble wobbled up to his feet, fist raised, and slugged at Skylla’s face as hard as he possibly could. It didn’t matter that he saw an adult woman coming towards them. It didn’t matter that all doors in the village were open now. He wasn’t thinking of getting in trouble. He was thinking that this girl kicked him in the balls and that he’d build an altar and sacrifice her to whichever god would accept such a thing.
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Her hair was still wound between his fingers while he pummeled her. He was a far cry from the terror he’d be later, though, and his punches were that of a child. They’d hurt, of course, but they weren’t dangerous. All around them the boys bellowed and jeered, flinging sand that stung his face as well as flinging it on Skylla. She fought him like a little demon child, screaming and pulling his hair in return. She was in his face, her breath and spit coating his skin. He rolled the two of them sideways in the scuffle, forcing the ring of boys around them to expand and then breakup all together.
Their rolling sent them tumbling across the lane and then back again like tangled, writhing balls of fury caught in ocean waves. It ended the same, with her beneath him but there was a problem he didn’t foresee. Skylla’s knee. With a growl that sounded every bit like a spitting kitten, Skylla’s knee surged upwards, connecting straight into Lukos’s balls. He saw stars. Overwhelming nausea gushed inside his stomach. His hands flew to cradle his privates as he fell sideways, face first into the sand. Was he going to vomit? He might vomit. Lukos lay like that for what felt like forever but it was truly only a few seconds.
The other boys, though, instinctively felt his pain and they were not going to let a little girl harm one of their own like that. “GET HER!” one of the other boys shouted. Five pairs of hands grabbed out for Skylla, intending to hold her until Lukos could take his rightful revenge.
Lukos, meanwhile, was spitting sand out of his mouth and testing to see whether or not he’d live through this by groaning and getting onto his hands and knees. His coils of dark hair hung in his face, sprinkled with sand and grit. Blood dripped from his open mouth from where she’d punched him in the teeth, and the first of the murderous malevolence he’d become so used to feeling flitted into his black eyes.
Sucking air into his lungs, he wibble wobbled up to his feet, fist raised, and slugged at Skylla’s face as hard as he possibly could. It didn’t matter that he saw an adult woman coming towards them. It didn’t matter that all doors in the village were open now. He wasn’t thinking of getting in trouble. He was thinking that this girl kicked him in the balls and that he’d build an altar and sacrifice her to whichever god would accept such a thing.
Her hair was still wound between his fingers while he pummeled her. He was a far cry from the terror he’d be later, though, and his punches were that of a child. They’d hurt, of course, but they weren’t dangerous. All around them the boys bellowed and jeered, flinging sand that stung his face as well as flinging it on Skylla. She fought him like a little demon child, screaming and pulling his hair in return. She was in his face, her breath and spit coating his skin. He rolled the two of them sideways in the scuffle, forcing the ring of boys around them to expand and then breakup all together.
Their rolling sent them tumbling across the lane and then back again like tangled, writhing balls of fury caught in ocean waves. It ended the same, with her beneath him but there was a problem he didn’t foresee. Skylla’s knee. With a growl that sounded every bit like a spitting kitten, Skylla’s knee surged upwards, connecting straight into Lukos’s balls. He saw stars. Overwhelming nausea gushed inside his stomach. His hands flew to cradle his privates as he fell sideways, face first into the sand. Was he going to vomit? He might vomit. Lukos lay like that for what felt like forever but it was truly only a few seconds.
The other boys, though, instinctively felt his pain and they were not going to let a little girl harm one of their own like that. “GET HER!” one of the other boys shouted. Five pairs of hands grabbed out for Skylla, intending to hold her until Lukos could take his rightful revenge.
Lukos, meanwhile, was spitting sand out of his mouth and testing to see whether or not he’d live through this by groaning and getting onto his hands and knees. His coils of dark hair hung in his face, sprinkled with sand and grit. Blood dripped from his open mouth from where she’d punched him in the teeth, and the first of the murderous malevolence he’d become so used to feeling flitted into his black eyes.
Sucking air into his lungs, he wibble wobbled up to his feet, fist raised, and slugged at Skylla’s face as hard as he possibly could. It didn’t matter that he saw an adult woman coming towards them. It didn’t matter that all doors in the village were open now. He wasn’t thinking of getting in trouble. He was thinking that this girl kicked him in the balls and that he’d build an altar and sacrifice her to whichever god would accept such a thing.
There was a sense of deep satisfaction at seeing her knee land between his legs in a way that she knew would make Lukos crumble. He was such a dick and she wanted to rip him apart for bullying her. She was the bully here. She was the queen urchin and she would remain so if it was the last thing that she did. Gritting her teeth, she snarled at him as he finally fell over and let her go. His hands were out of his hair and though her little body ached from being pummeled by his fists, she was able to pull herself to little feet, sure that she had won.
Until all of the other little boys called out to get her. Turning sharply, Skylla watched them with extremely wide eyes. Oh. No. Absolutely not. They were not going to get their hands on h-
She was screeching when the first boy was grabbing hold of her. And then all of them were touching her. Filthy peasants. They didn't know who they were messing with. Her momma would roast them all for dinner. Maybe her dad would kick another one of them, but that was so unlikely that it didn't even really cross her mind for that long. There was one good thing about being a girl. The very shrill way in which she could scream and spit like an angry feline, her claws out as she tried to fight off the little boys taking hold of her. Her little nails caught one of the boys in the cheek before he hissed and finally grabbed hold of her.
Skylla's gaze trailed to Lukos, watching him get up as she struggled against the five pairs of hands holding her. Dark eyes wide as he approached her, she didn't shrink back, hissing at him to keep his distance because she was done with this. All of it. She hoped her daddy threw him in the ocean to drown.
And she had that thought all the way up to the point in which he slugged her across the face. Immediate pain and overwhelming dizziness did take over, and, unlike him, she did actually vomit on him. Everything she had eaten that morning, all the way down his shirt. The pain was so splitting that she wobbled a little, tears stinging her eyes for a moment. Before, dazed, her gaze lifted to his face with a look that was just as menacing and almost psychotic as her father's. They were going to play that way, huh? Not now. Not when her head was spinning and she was on the verge of throwing up again, but later, when the two of them could fight fair.
The adults were rushing out, Billa poking her head out at the sound of Skylla's absolutely shrill screaming and then silence. Stunned, the young mother then set forward like a lioness looking to protect her cub. "Stop!" Billa snarled, approaching the group. A few of the boys scattered, and Billa took hold of Lukos' curls to pull him back with all the strength of an enraged mother. "What do you think you're doing, child? Let her alone, or I'll swat your hind end."
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There was a sense of deep satisfaction at seeing her knee land between his legs in a way that she knew would make Lukos crumble. He was such a dick and she wanted to rip him apart for bullying her. She was the bully here. She was the queen urchin and she would remain so if it was the last thing that she did. Gritting her teeth, she snarled at him as he finally fell over and let her go. His hands were out of his hair and though her little body ached from being pummeled by his fists, she was able to pull herself to little feet, sure that she had won.
Until all of the other little boys called out to get her. Turning sharply, Skylla watched them with extremely wide eyes. Oh. No. Absolutely not. They were not going to get their hands on h-
She was screeching when the first boy was grabbing hold of her. And then all of them were touching her. Filthy peasants. They didn't know who they were messing with. Her momma would roast them all for dinner. Maybe her dad would kick another one of them, but that was so unlikely that it didn't even really cross her mind for that long. There was one good thing about being a girl. The very shrill way in which she could scream and spit like an angry feline, her claws out as she tried to fight off the little boys taking hold of her. Her little nails caught one of the boys in the cheek before he hissed and finally grabbed hold of her.
Skylla's gaze trailed to Lukos, watching him get up as she struggled against the five pairs of hands holding her. Dark eyes wide as he approached her, she didn't shrink back, hissing at him to keep his distance because she was done with this. All of it. She hoped her daddy threw him in the ocean to drown.
And she had that thought all the way up to the point in which he slugged her across the face. Immediate pain and overwhelming dizziness did take over, and, unlike him, she did actually vomit on him. Everything she had eaten that morning, all the way down his shirt. The pain was so splitting that she wobbled a little, tears stinging her eyes for a moment. Before, dazed, her gaze lifted to his face with a look that was just as menacing and almost psychotic as her father's. They were going to play that way, huh? Not now. Not when her head was spinning and she was on the verge of throwing up again, but later, when the two of them could fight fair.
The adults were rushing out, Billa poking her head out at the sound of Skylla's absolutely shrill screaming and then silence. Stunned, the young mother then set forward like a lioness looking to protect her cub. "Stop!" Billa snarled, approaching the group. A few of the boys scattered, and Billa took hold of Lukos' curls to pull him back with all the strength of an enraged mother. "What do you think you're doing, child? Let her alone, or I'll swat your hind end."
There was a sense of deep satisfaction at seeing her knee land between his legs in a way that she knew would make Lukos crumble. He was such a dick and she wanted to rip him apart for bullying her. She was the bully here. She was the queen urchin and she would remain so if it was the last thing that she did. Gritting her teeth, she snarled at him as he finally fell over and let her go. His hands were out of his hair and though her little body ached from being pummeled by his fists, she was able to pull herself to little feet, sure that she had won.
Until all of the other little boys called out to get her. Turning sharply, Skylla watched them with extremely wide eyes. Oh. No. Absolutely not. They were not going to get their hands on h-
She was screeching when the first boy was grabbing hold of her. And then all of them were touching her. Filthy peasants. They didn't know who they were messing with. Her momma would roast them all for dinner. Maybe her dad would kick another one of them, but that was so unlikely that it didn't even really cross her mind for that long. There was one good thing about being a girl. The very shrill way in which she could scream and spit like an angry feline, her claws out as she tried to fight off the little boys taking hold of her. Her little nails caught one of the boys in the cheek before he hissed and finally grabbed hold of her.
Skylla's gaze trailed to Lukos, watching him get up as she struggled against the five pairs of hands holding her. Dark eyes wide as he approached her, she didn't shrink back, hissing at him to keep his distance because she was done with this. All of it. She hoped her daddy threw him in the ocean to drown.
And she had that thought all the way up to the point in which he slugged her across the face. Immediate pain and overwhelming dizziness did take over, and, unlike him, she did actually vomit on him. Everything she had eaten that morning, all the way down his shirt. The pain was so splitting that she wobbled a little, tears stinging her eyes for a moment. Before, dazed, her gaze lifted to his face with a look that was just as menacing and almost psychotic as her father's. They were going to play that way, huh? Not now. Not when her head was spinning and she was on the verge of throwing up again, but later, when the two of them could fight fair.
The adults were rushing out, Billa poking her head out at the sound of Skylla's absolutely shrill screaming and then silence. Stunned, the young mother then set forward like a lioness looking to protect her cub. "Stop!" Billa snarled, approaching the group. A few of the boys scattered, and Billa took hold of Lukos' curls to pull him back with all the strength of an enraged mother. "What do you think you're doing, child? Let her alone, or I'll swat your hind end."
Lukos had never hit a girl before today. Nor had he punched one dead in the face. And if he had, he still wouldn’t have foreseen the consequences of such a thing. He’d knew there would be blood. Or, hoped there would be, at any rate. He’d kinda hoped he broke her nose or knocked out one of her baby teeth. Her expression was as dazed and thunderstruck as he’d wanted but what he hadn’t expected? What he wouldn’t have wanted? Was what happened next. The only warning he got was that blank look right before the projectile vomit shot out and collided with his shirt in a wet, horrible mass of undigested fish.
Vomit and bits of fish slid down his stomach and onto his pants. He jumped back but it was already too late. The boys practically vanished into the very air by that point. Lukos’s voice was shrill and shouting and one second he was about to tear into this guttersnipe and the next someone’s fingers clawed in his hair, wrenching his head back. He found himself staring up into the livid face of Billa. Her eyes blazed and her expression contorted itself into furious words, hurled down at him like stones.
“What do you think you're doing, child? Let her alone, or I'll swat your hind end.”
This was where Lukos’s courage failed him. There were precious few eight year old, vomit covered, bleeding boys who had more stamina to now face a much bigger, much more ferocious attacker like an adult after an already brutal fight. His eyes were wide and round but their rage was gone and replaced itself with a stubborn sort of flatness. He may not fight her anymore but he definitely wasn’t going to answer.
He had a resurgence of bravery, or stupidity because his eyes rolled from Billa down to Skylla and the rage reignited there. Mommy wouldn’t always be around to save her and here, he smiled. It was ghastly looking. His teeth were pink, framed with brilliant scarlet that coated the insides of his lips and tongue also. From somewhere further up the village, Sophos bellowed at the few sailors who weren’t there to witness the tussel. He was calling for someone to round up the children. It was time to force these vermin to learn a thing or two about sailing.
Lukos wasn’t sure if he was being rescued or cursed.
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Lukos had never hit a girl before today. Nor had he punched one dead in the face. And if he had, he still wouldn’t have foreseen the consequences of such a thing. He’d knew there would be blood. Or, hoped there would be, at any rate. He’d kinda hoped he broke her nose or knocked out one of her baby teeth. Her expression was as dazed and thunderstruck as he’d wanted but what he hadn’t expected? What he wouldn’t have wanted? Was what happened next. The only warning he got was that blank look right before the projectile vomit shot out and collided with his shirt in a wet, horrible mass of undigested fish.
Vomit and bits of fish slid down his stomach and onto his pants. He jumped back but it was already too late. The boys practically vanished into the very air by that point. Lukos’s voice was shrill and shouting and one second he was about to tear into this guttersnipe and the next someone’s fingers clawed in his hair, wrenching his head back. He found himself staring up into the livid face of Billa. Her eyes blazed and her expression contorted itself into furious words, hurled down at him like stones.
“What do you think you're doing, child? Let her alone, or I'll swat your hind end.”
This was where Lukos’s courage failed him. There were precious few eight year old, vomit covered, bleeding boys who had more stamina to now face a much bigger, much more ferocious attacker like an adult after an already brutal fight. His eyes were wide and round but their rage was gone and replaced itself with a stubborn sort of flatness. He may not fight her anymore but he definitely wasn’t going to answer.
He had a resurgence of bravery, or stupidity because his eyes rolled from Billa down to Skylla and the rage reignited there. Mommy wouldn’t always be around to save her and here, he smiled. It was ghastly looking. His teeth were pink, framed with brilliant scarlet that coated the insides of his lips and tongue also. From somewhere further up the village, Sophos bellowed at the few sailors who weren’t there to witness the tussel. He was calling for someone to round up the children. It was time to force these vermin to learn a thing or two about sailing.
Lukos wasn’t sure if he was being rescued or cursed.
Lukos had never hit a girl before today. Nor had he punched one dead in the face. And if he had, he still wouldn’t have foreseen the consequences of such a thing. He’d knew there would be blood. Or, hoped there would be, at any rate. He’d kinda hoped he broke her nose or knocked out one of her baby teeth. Her expression was as dazed and thunderstruck as he’d wanted but what he hadn’t expected? What he wouldn’t have wanted? Was what happened next. The only warning he got was that blank look right before the projectile vomit shot out and collided with his shirt in a wet, horrible mass of undigested fish.
Vomit and bits of fish slid down his stomach and onto his pants. He jumped back but it was already too late. The boys practically vanished into the very air by that point. Lukos’s voice was shrill and shouting and one second he was about to tear into this guttersnipe and the next someone’s fingers clawed in his hair, wrenching his head back. He found himself staring up into the livid face of Billa. Her eyes blazed and her expression contorted itself into furious words, hurled down at him like stones.
“What do you think you're doing, child? Let her alone, or I'll swat your hind end.”
This was where Lukos’s courage failed him. There were precious few eight year old, vomit covered, bleeding boys who had more stamina to now face a much bigger, much more ferocious attacker like an adult after an already brutal fight. His eyes were wide and round but their rage was gone and replaced itself with a stubborn sort of flatness. He may not fight her anymore but he definitely wasn’t going to answer.
He had a resurgence of bravery, or stupidity because his eyes rolled from Billa down to Skylla and the rage reignited there. Mommy wouldn’t always be around to save her and here, he smiled. It was ghastly looking. His teeth were pink, framed with brilliant scarlet that coated the insides of his lips and tongue also. From somewhere further up the village, Sophos bellowed at the few sailors who weren’t there to witness the tussel. He was calling for someone to round up the children. It was time to force these vermin to learn a thing or two about sailing.
Lukos wasn’t sure if he was being rescued or cursed.
Billa had to sigh very deeply through her nose so that she didn't snap at Lukos again once Sophos' call rang through the tiny village. Of course he'd want the boys now of all times. But the one who lay on the cot, his breath gone and his skin pale... he would not join them. Helen was already preparing the body for his rites, having brought the little thing coins for his eyes so that he could pay the ferryman. The young mother didn't have to worry about such a thing for now, but she did have to get Lukos clean before she sent him to Sophos.
She didn't want to deal with whatever rage he would direct at her for such an oversight. Mostly because it was tiring to endure, not because she was afraid of the man. He hadn't killed her yet and he'd let her keep Skylla when she grew heavy with child. That was satisfactory in her book, though she did not hold the same fear for him as others did. Maybe she was just too broken. Or maybe she had bigger things to worry about than a man who was hardly on the island at all much of the time.
She let go of Lukos' hair, rolling her eyes. "Lets wash you up or the Captain will have my hide," she muttered, nudging Lukos away from her daughter. "We'll get you clean clothes and then send you on your way. Did you eat?" Billa was all business now, moving toward her daughter so that she could help the little girl up. "Lets wash you up, sweet," she sighed tiredly. "We will do that little boy's rites when the boys are off with your father," she muttered mostly to Skylla.
Skylla, still somewhat dizzy, looked up at her mother with wide eyes, knowing what that meant and nodding.
Then Billa looked to Lukos, "Toward the shore with you. We're going to make this quick, and its going to be cold, boy." And with that, she nudged both of the kids in the direction of the beach, wanting to get the vomit and blood off of both of them. Admittedly, it was more for Lukos' benefit than anything else. If the child smelled like vomit while sailing, then Sophos would make his life more of a living hell than it already was slated to be.
The woman stopped just briefly for a change of clothes for Lukos and then brought them to the sandy beach. "Strip down and get in the water. I want your hair scrubbed and your mouth clean," Billa said sternly. "But you can have wine for that," she added, not willing to let either of them wash their mouths out with salt water.
"Hurry it up."
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Billa had to sigh very deeply through her nose so that she didn't snap at Lukos again once Sophos' call rang through the tiny village. Of course he'd want the boys now of all times. But the one who lay on the cot, his breath gone and his skin pale... he would not join them. Helen was already preparing the body for his rites, having brought the little thing coins for his eyes so that he could pay the ferryman. The young mother didn't have to worry about such a thing for now, but she did have to get Lukos clean before she sent him to Sophos.
She didn't want to deal with whatever rage he would direct at her for such an oversight. Mostly because it was tiring to endure, not because she was afraid of the man. He hadn't killed her yet and he'd let her keep Skylla when she grew heavy with child. That was satisfactory in her book, though she did not hold the same fear for him as others did. Maybe she was just too broken. Or maybe she had bigger things to worry about than a man who was hardly on the island at all much of the time.
She let go of Lukos' hair, rolling her eyes. "Lets wash you up or the Captain will have my hide," she muttered, nudging Lukos away from her daughter. "We'll get you clean clothes and then send you on your way. Did you eat?" Billa was all business now, moving toward her daughter so that she could help the little girl up. "Lets wash you up, sweet," she sighed tiredly. "We will do that little boy's rites when the boys are off with your father," she muttered mostly to Skylla.
Skylla, still somewhat dizzy, looked up at her mother with wide eyes, knowing what that meant and nodding.
Then Billa looked to Lukos, "Toward the shore with you. We're going to make this quick, and its going to be cold, boy." And with that, she nudged both of the kids in the direction of the beach, wanting to get the vomit and blood off of both of them. Admittedly, it was more for Lukos' benefit than anything else. If the child smelled like vomit while sailing, then Sophos would make his life more of a living hell than it already was slated to be.
The woman stopped just briefly for a change of clothes for Lukos and then brought them to the sandy beach. "Strip down and get in the water. I want your hair scrubbed and your mouth clean," Billa said sternly. "But you can have wine for that," she added, not willing to let either of them wash their mouths out with salt water.
"Hurry it up."
Billa had to sigh very deeply through her nose so that she didn't snap at Lukos again once Sophos' call rang through the tiny village. Of course he'd want the boys now of all times. But the one who lay on the cot, his breath gone and his skin pale... he would not join them. Helen was already preparing the body for his rites, having brought the little thing coins for his eyes so that he could pay the ferryman. The young mother didn't have to worry about such a thing for now, but she did have to get Lukos clean before she sent him to Sophos.
She didn't want to deal with whatever rage he would direct at her for such an oversight. Mostly because it was tiring to endure, not because she was afraid of the man. He hadn't killed her yet and he'd let her keep Skylla when she grew heavy with child. That was satisfactory in her book, though she did not hold the same fear for him as others did. Maybe she was just too broken. Or maybe she had bigger things to worry about than a man who was hardly on the island at all much of the time.
She let go of Lukos' hair, rolling her eyes. "Lets wash you up or the Captain will have my hide," she muttered, nudging Lukos away from her daughter. "We'll get you clean clothes and then send you on your way. Did you eat?" Billa was all business now, moving toward her daughter so that she could help the little girl up. "Lets wash you up, sweet," she sighed tiredly. "We will do that little boy's rites when the boys are off with your father," she muttered mostly to Skylla.
Skylla, still somewhat dizzy, looked up at her mother with wide eyes, knowing what that meant and nodding.
Then Billa looked to Lukos, "Toward the shore with you. We're going to make this quick, and its going to be cold, boy." And with that, she nudged both of the kids in the direction of the beach, wanting to get the vomit and blood off of both of them. Admittedly, it was more for Lukos' benefit than anything else. If the child smelled like vomit while sailing, then Sophos would make his life more of a living hell than it already was slated to be.
The woman stopped just briefly for a change of clothes for Lukos and then brought them to the sandy beach. "Strip down and get in the water. I want your hair scrubbed and your mouth clean," Billa said sternly. "But you can have wine for that," she added, not willing to let either of them wash their mouths out with salt water.
"Hurry it up."
Lukos was mostly concerned with the vomit on his clothes and the pain throbbing in his face from Skylla’s punch. He didn’t fight when Billa directed them to the water. Flinching as much as the rest of them did at Sopho’s bark, he felt relatively safe under Billa’s care. Because he was only eight, he didn’t think much on what she’d said, about performing the other boy’s rites. It didn’t affect him in the moment. What did affect him was the water’s edge and the blood and the vomit. At the moment, he only had the one set of clothes and so this would have to be it.
Stripping out of them, Lukos waded into the blue shallows of the lagoon and sat straight down in the cold water. He scooped up great palm fulls of it and rinsed out the blood in his mouth, watching it swirl away into nothing as the pink waterfall splashed back down. Footsteps trudged softly in the sand somewhere behind him but he didn’t look back to see who had slogged into the water with him. There was no need. It was that bratty girl.
He grabbed at his floating chiton and scrubbed at it under the water, trying to work out the disgusting bodily fluids that Skylla had erupted on him. One of the sailors stood on the shore, telling Billa to make Lukos hurry but Lukos didn’t move any faster than he had to. He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed at the material, not wanting to go back onto the ship. In the end, he didn’t have much choice. Fingers curled into his hair and gripped hard, jerking him to his feet.
”Get.” On that single word, he was flung from the water and onto the sand. He crashed onto the beach, naked and coated now in grit. His wet chiton flopped next to him and he tasted fresh blood from accidentally biting his tongue when he landed. This sailor was one he’d seen before. On the ship, this one liked to splash their food rations at them through the cages and watch them eat it off the floor, like dogs. Lukos hated him. And because he hated him so much, he didn’t cry. He sniffled only once and then pushed himself up to his feet.
”You’re the last one there, mutt,” the sailor crowed. ”Captain’s gonna beat you for being late.” Oh joy. What fun. This was all that brat girl’s fault and Lukos shot her a malevolent glare as he stood up, dusting as much of the sand from his body as possible before he was forced to step into his equally sandy and entirely sodden chiton. He’d get her when he got back. That was a promise.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Lukos was mostly concerned with the vomit on his clothes and the pain throbbing in his face from Skylla’s punch. He didn’t fight when Billa directed them to the water. Flinching as much as the rest of them did at Sopho’s bark, he felt relatively safe under Billa’s care. Because he was only eight, he didn’t think much on what she’d said, about performing the other boy’s rites. It didn’t affect him in the moment. What did affect him was the water’s edge and the blood and the vomit. At the moment, he only had the one set of clothes and so this would have to be it.
Stripping out of them, Lukos waded into the blue shallows of the lagoon and sat straight down in the cold water. He scooped up great palm fulls of it and rinsed out the blood in his mouth, watching it swirl away into nothing as the pink waterfall splashed back down. Footsteps trudged softly in the sand somewhere behind him but he didn’t look back to see who had slogged into the water with him. There was no need. It was that bratty girl.
He grabbed at his floating chiton and scrubbed at it under the water, trying to work out the disgusting bodily fluids that Skylla had erupted on him. One of the sailors stood on the shore, telling Billa to make Lukos hurry but Lukos didn’t move any faster than he had to. He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed at the material, not wanting to go back onto the ship. In the end, he didn’t have much choice. Fingers curled into his hair and gripped hard, jerking him to his feet.
”Get.” On that single word, he was flung from the water and onto the sand. He crashed onto the beach, naked and coated now in grit. His wet chiton flopped next to him and he tasted fresh blood from accidentally biting his tongue when he landed. This sailor was one he’d seen before. On the ship, this one liked to splash their food rations at them through the cages and watch them eat it off the floor, like dogs. Lukos hated him. And because he hated him so much, he didn’t cry. He sniffled only once and then pushed himself up to his feet.
”You’re the last one there, mutt,” the sailor crowed. ”Captain’s gonna beat you for being late.” Oh joy. What fun. This was all that brat girl’s fault and Lukos shot her a malevolent glare as he stood up, dusting as much of the sand from his body as possible before he was forced to step into his equally sandy and entirely sodden chiton. He’d get her when he got back. That was a promise.
Lukos was mostly concerned with the vomit on his clothes and the pain throbbing in his face from Skylla’s punch. He didn’t fight when Billa directed them to the water. Flinching as much as the rest of them did at Sopho’s bark, he felt relatively safe under Billa’s care. Because he was only eight, he didn’t think much on what she’d said, about performing the other boy’s rites. It didn’t affect him in the moment. What did affect him was the water’s edge and the blood and the vomit. At the moment, he only had the one set of clothes and so this would have to be it.
Stripping out of them, Lukos waded into the blue shallows of the lagoon and sat straight down in the cold water. He scooped up great palm fulls of it and rinsed out the blood in his mouth, watching it swirl away into nothing as the pink waterfall splashed back down. Footsteps trudged softly in the sand somewhere behind him but he didn’t look back to see who had slogged into the water with him. There was no need. It was that bratty girl.
He grabbed at his floating chiton and scrubbed at it under the water, trying to work out the disgusting bodily fluids that Skylla had erupted on him. One of the sailors stood on the shore, telling Billa to make Lukos hurry but Lukos didn’t move any faster than he had to. He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed at the material, not wanting to go back onto the ship. In the end, he didn’t have much choice. Fingers curled into his hair and gripped hard, jerking him to his feet.
”Get.” On that single word, he was flung from the water and onto the sand. He crashed onto the beach, naked and coated now in grit. His wet chiton flopped next to him and he tasted fresh blood from accidentally biting his tongue when he landed. This sailor was one he’d seen before. On the ship, this one liked to splash their food rations at them through the cages and watch them eat it off the floor, like dogs. Lukos hated him. And because he hated him so much, he didn’t cry. He sniffled only once and then pushed himself up to his feet.
”You’re the last one there, mutt,” the sailor crowed. ”Captain’s gonna beat you for being late.” Oh joy. What fun. This was all that brat girl’s fault and Lukos shot her a malevolent glare as he stood up, dusting as much of the sand from his body as possible before he was forced to step into his equally sandy and entirely sodden chiton. He’d get her when he got back. That was a promise.
