The swords were cold on Amir's neck.
His body still ached from the sea, his skin covered in cuts and bruises, but he could feel every breath. The men standing around him wore bronze chest plates, short blue cloaks, and had sharp eyes like wolves. One of them pushed the tip of his blade closer.
"Who are you?" the soldier asked, voice rough.
Amir didn't move. His lips were cracked. His body weak. But he reached slowly for the strap around his chest and pulled out the long sword.
The Splasher.
The men stepped back a little, looking surprised.
One of them, who looked like their leader, studied him for a long second. Then he lowered his sword. The others followed.
"You survived that storm?" the man said, "Only by the gods and you must be stronger than you look. We will take you to the king."
They didn't speak much, just looked at one another, nodded, and lifted Amir up by both arms.
He tried to stand on his own, but his legs gave out. They let him lean on them as they made him walked. He looked around. The land was bright and the sun shining in the clear sky. The trees were tall and Everything felt new. And not far ahead, rising above the hills, he could see white stone buildings and columns reaching up to the sky.
The men climbed the horses and headed to the city.
Athens.
Amir didn't know the name, but he felt the power of the city.
As they walked through a wide road, he saw massive statues made of stone and gold. One stood taller than any he'd ever seen before — a man with lightning in his hand.
"That's Zeus," one of the guards said, noticing Amir staring. "That's the temple of Zeus."
They passed more temples. People bowed as they passed. Children stopped playing to look. The streets were clean, made of smooth stone, and lined with olive trees. Amir saw men in white robes speaking to each other under marble columns. Women carried baskets of fruits. The smell of bread filled the air. Laughter echoed, mixed with the sound of hammers and flutes.
This wasn't like his home.
Everything felt alive here.
Before long, they arrived at the palace gates. Two guards pulled the doors open as the men walked in. Amir could feel his heart beating fast. He walked through a place filled with gold and marble, with walls carved with the faces of gods. Each step echoed, and ahead, a large hallway led to the throne room.
The King sat on his throne, wearing a deep red robe and a golden crown. His black beard was well-groomed, and his piercing eyes seemed to take note of everything around him. Next to him was a beautiful woman with gentle eyes and long black hair, dressed in a flowing gown. Behind her stood Princess Callista, about Amir's age, with bright blue eyes and a curious look on her face
The soldiers stopped. One of them pushed Amir forward, gently.
Amir took a shaky step, then another. His clothes were torn. He was covered in sand and dried blood. But he stood tall.
He took a breath and knelt in front of the king. Then he placed The Splasher gently on the ground before him, holding it with both hands and bowing his head.
The room was quiet.
The king stood slowly and walked down the steps.
He stopped in front of Amir, looking at the sword. Then at the boy.
"What's your name, boy?" the king asked.
"Amir," he said quietly.
The king looked at the sword again. He touched the hilt with one hand, then looked into Amir's eyes.
"This sword…" he said. "It belonged to a warrior I once knew. A good man."
Amir lifted his head.
"He was my father," he whispered.
The king nodded slowly. Then, to Amir's shock, he bent down and helped him to his feet. He placed both hands on Amir's shoulders and smiled.
"You are welcome here, Amir," he said. "You are the son of a man I respected. You have a place in this land."
The queen stepped forward and gave a soft smile. The princess stood back, her eyes still watching Amir with interest.
"Come," the king said. "You need rest. You'll be given food, a place to sleep, and whatever you need."
Amir felt relieved, for the first time in days, he felt safe.
He bowed his head. "Thank you, my king."
The king raised his hand. "You will not call me king every time. My name is Thalerius. And you will eat tonight as one of us."
As the servants led him away, Amir looked back at the throne. The queen spoke quietly to her daughter but she was still looking at him.
Not with fear.
But with something else.
Curiosity.
Maybe something more.
And as Amir walked deeper into the palace, he held The Splasher close. He didn't know what would come next. But for now, he had a place, a roof, a bed and a future.
The storm was behind him.