Chapter 11

The dream was chaotic and strange. There was darkness colored by muffled screams. I was unable to move and when I lifted my eyes there were no 
stars waiting in this blackest night. I felt myself waning, and then the lion was there, his third eye burning in the center of Xenos's forehead. He reached 
for me and then my world erupted in flames.
~*~
The warm crackling of the fire made me reluctant to open my eyes. Instead I laid there and let the events from earlier flow through my mind. 
What exactly had taken place? I felt both weak and renewed, and I could feel the tyrant's essence in my veins. What did it mean? What would occur 
next? There were far too many questions for my mind to rest easily. I had learned that unanswered questions often led to undesirable situations later 
on.

I allowed my senses to explore. I smelled the familiar fragrant wood burning in the fireplace, could feel satin and fur beneath my body. But, it was the soft 
sound of breath that finally made my eyes open.

I was not prepared to find myself nestled in Xenos's bed comfortably, nor for the sight of the tyrant lying at my side. He slept in confident exposure, chest 
and face carved in the fire's harsh lighting, features relaxed in slumber. As I gazed at him it was as if I could taste him upon my tongue, that essence of fine 
fruit and wine. It preoccupied me – a dangerous element. What had happened in that secret chamber? Was it some spell that brought my fingers to wrap 
in tousled ebony tresses, or was it curiosity? Perhaps it was merely the first time I had been given to explore the texture of the tyrant's hair, his flesh, 
without fear of pain or darker things.

Both the hem of my gown and my veil had become entangled with him as we slept, and I knew there was no way to free myself without waking him. It was 
as I carefully pulled upon the veil wrapping his arm that he stirred and his eyes slowly opened.

“Good morning, Cynara.” His voice was heavy with sleep. His arm moved, freeing my veil. His legs soon followed suit as he sat up.

“Xenos.” I caught myself saying in similar tones. We exchanged a look and said nothing. I sat still and silent within his bed as he called loudly for a servant 
to draw his bath. I watched as heated water was poured, as the tyrant removed what little clothing he wore and sank into the bath. Xenos had never 
favored the public bathhouses. As far as I could remember neither he nor I ventured to them. And for the first time I wondered why I was given a private 
bath area, something no other acolyte was provided.

“Your thoughts wander more than usual.” His voice broke through my mind and shattered my questions.

I was distracted once more. His hair was wet and made his face appear gaunt, the fire sending prismatic color through the water droplets on his shoulders. 
He was observant of my gaze and silent. “I find myself entertaining new fancies.” I said slowly as my eyes moved to his once again, guilt gnawing at my 
stomach. My words had not lied, and part of me despised myself for it.

“Indeed.” He murmured in knowing tones. “Will my statue distract you from your duties in the sanctuary?” There it was, the mocking tone I was familiar 
with.

“Perhaps.” I responded with womanly wiles.

He was out of the bath and I did not expect his hands upon my wrists, water seeping through my gown from his body and hair as he rose above me on the 
bed. Somehow I knew I should have been afraid, but my gaze met his steadily and I felt oddly calm.

His hair coiled coolly against my cheek as he brought his face close to mine. “Be mindful of who it is you toy with, Euphemia.” He murmured darkly 
against my mouth. I felt my body reacting, felt warmth rush up into my cheeks.

“I am ever mindful.” I said and I meant my words to be coy and strong, but instead they came out breathy, wanted.

His mouth covered mine briefly, savagely. It was just enough for a taste, a promise, and a warning. Then his weight and his hands were gone. He reached 
for a woven towel, rubbing the water from his body. I watched as armor was strapped over his chest. When the cape was fastened I had a flashback of 
stolen flesh draping those broad shoulders.

He left without another word to me or gaze in my direction.

As I sat there within his bed with his kiss burning on my lips, I knew I was placing myself in an increasingly dangerous situation with the tyrant. I was 
becoming too easily distracted by the man I had vowed to kill.

I moved quickly from the bed, colder now due to my dampened clothing. I took pen and ink to parchment and began in that moment to arrange the 
much-needed and awaited meeting of the Senate. It had to happen now. I needed my head cleared from personal distraction and focus instead on the 
larger task at hand.
~*~
	We met three nights later under the cover of darkness. It was the first time I would ever see one of the slave houses Desedira had feared so. We could 
not meet in a stately fashion. It would be too-easily monitored. I walked through the door and scents of sex, blood, and opium flooded my senses. There was 
little to its mechanics. Girls – some young and some old – were crudely chained to the walls and laid on stained pallets of straw and linen. And the men came 
and gave their coin at the door, chose one of those girls and fell upon her, thrusting and pushing until his lust was satisfied. There were easily sixty girls and 
several men were taking their pleasure as I gave my coin and moved through that room to the one that rested beyond it.

	“I apologize, Cynara.” Mathius hurriedly said as he took my veil and cloak when the door was closed behind me. “We are less likely to be discovered 
in this place.”

	I could have been looking at one of Xenos's meetings. The men gathered were dressed in the tyrant's colors, various ranks decorating the room. There 
were twelve men and myself, representatives for each of the thirteen partitions of the old government. And twelve pairs of eyes were focused on me, waiting.

	I placed my hands against the worn wood of the table they sat around, and for a moment I wondered what Xenos felt like each time 
he stood at the head of his deliberation table much as I did here, knowing that each word would shift the path of time. My thoughts sought 
to overwhelm me, but a warm hand was placed over mine briefly and the fog cleared. Mathius gave me a reassuring smile.

	It was the last time I paused. I gestured to Mathius and the map was brought forward. I sent it rolling across the table. The thirteen 
partitions of Atlantis came into view on the tattered scroll, the center of the city arcing out, three concentric circles divided into twelve 
sections, the center a partition unto itself. And the sea surrounded the island, accessible from three sides. The fourth was comprised of 
deadly cliffs, impossible to scale.

	“Revolts continue on the southern borders.” Demetrion's smooth voice coiled through the room. He had been stripped of rank that 
time that seemed so far ago, that time when he had shared a dungeon cell with me and two other men. He stood at the foot of the table 
dressed in the simple armor and colors of infantry. “Religious fervor has been renewed. After the last shaking of the ground, there is rumor 
that more is coming, that Xenos will bring down the entire island. When the people attempt to take their boats to the sea, they are cut down.” 
He paused and I watched the muscles in his throat contract as he swallowed. I wondered how many of those people he had been forced to 
destroy lest he face death himself. “They are choosing to die fighting for freedom rather than wait for the ground to swallow them.”

	“We must discover how to use their rebellion for our advantage.” I murmured as I ran my fingers down the streets drawn on the map 
before me, words in a language I had almost become unfamiliar with in my time with the tyrant written carefully along their fading lines. 
“Xenos will destroy each and every one before he allows civil war to tear his regiment apart.”

	Murmuring rose in a cloud as officials began discussing amongst themselves. My eyes met the hazel hue of Demetrion's. He said 
nothing, but I knew the same fear gnawed at his stomach as it did at mine. Things were beginning to unfold with or without our intervention. 

	“It is time for the people to know.” I broke through the various voices that were speaking softly. Twelve wide pairs of eyes turned 
to mine once again. “An anonymous publication.” I continued. “We need a publication that will spark revolutionary spirit, a writing that will 
anonymously disclose that there is a group of leaders that will return balance to our land.”

	“Do you realize that this could send us all to the arena?” Adam spoke up. His hair was still vibrant and red, and unlike Demetrion he 
had still maintained his rank through his punishment.

	The arena. It was one of Xenos's newest toys, a circular enclosed structure where those condemned to death were given chance 
after chance to extend their life through battle, through the death of others also condemned to die. Adam had a valid point, but it was 
something I had to ignore, had to pray would not come to fruition for myself or any of the men that sat in this secret meeting with me.

	“Yes.” I finally said slowly. “But, without hope of guidance, the people will tear this land apart mindlessly, and all hope will be lost to 
us.” Emotion leaked through my voice as I said the words. I so desperately wanted to see my home returned to its former glory, and if we 
did nothing all that would be left were ruins.

	“She is correct.” Mathius spoke in deep tones from my right shoulder. “As it stands, all the people understand is that they feel the 
end is near and that the government will destroy them before they are allowed freedom. They need assurance that there are those who seek 
to turn the tables, even if it is an anonymous group.”

	The murmuring began again, and tones rose and fell as disagreements were discussed, and tossed aside. “Are we in agreement?” I 
asked when the room had quieted once again.

	Twelve hands saluted a press of fist against heart and then arm extending toward me, fingers pointing forward. It was unanimous. 
“Then there is work to be done.” I said as I felt the stars moving across the sky. This had to be completed before dawn.

	We worked for hours, pen and parchment littered the worn table and just before the sun was due to rise, we placed our papers 
together. Thirteen papers, thirteen letters to the people. Thirteen pages that would spark hope and revolution, and place all of us in danger.


[Chapter 12]