They called them weaklings.
At first when they were kids.
Later, the word stuck.
Weaklings.
Axiomel heard it as he walked through the outer training grounds, hands wrapped in worn leather straps, shoulders loose but alert. He didn't react. He never did. That only encouraged them, but reacting would've been worse.
Behind him, boots scuffed stone.
"You hear that one?" Eryx muttered. "Third time today."
"Fourth," Kastor corrected. "I'm counting."
Thyrion snorted. "Let them talk. Talking's all they're good at."
Axiomel glanced back at them. "Save the bravado for when it matters."
The mission board was already crowded when they arrived.
That alone was annoying.
Spartans didn't crowd unless there was something worth crowding for. Either a high‑paying contract, or something dangerous enough that surviving it would earn reputation.
Axiomel stopped a few steps back, arms folded, eyes scanning the board over shoulders and helmets.
"Let me guess," Kastor muttered behind him. "Escort job. Again."
"Or monster suppression," Myris said. "Something flashy."
Eryx craned his neck. "If it says 'honor' anywhere in the description, I'm not doing it."
Thyrion chuckled. "You don't do anything with honor anyway."
"That's survival instinct," Eryx shot back.
Axiomel ignored them, gaze fixed on the parchment nailed slightly lower than the rest. The kind people overlooked because it didn't promise glory.
His eyes narrowed.
"…There," he said.
The group shifted as one, leaning in.
Unregistered Undead Activity — Border Village
Suspected Lich Presence
Reward: High
Additional Incentives for Confirmation and Elimination
Kastor whistled low. "That's not beginner work."
"It's not meant to be," Thyrion said, eyes lighting up slightly. "Which means no one's touching it."
Myris frowned. "Or everyone's avoiding it."
"Same thing," Axiomel replied.
Eryx scratched his jaw. "High reward usually means high body count."
Axiomel tapped the board once with his knuckle.
"It means they're desperate."
They fell quiet.
A pair of older warriors nearby glanced over, then laughed openly.
"A lich?" one of them scoffed. "You kids trying to die early?"
Caleb's voice followed immediately after.
"Oh come on," he drawled, stepping into view with his group trailing behind him. "Let them dream. Weaklings need something to believe in."
Kastor bristled. Thyrion took a step forward.
Axiomel raised a hand.
Caleb smirked. "That job's suicide. Even for us."
"Then don't take it," Axiomel said calmly.
Caleb's eyes narrowed. "You think you can do better?"
"I think you won't," Axiomel replied.
A beat.
Then laughter.
"Enjoy the dirt," Caleb said, turning away. "If you make it back."
The crowd slowly dispersed.
The parchment remained.
Myris exhaled. "He's not wrong, you know."
"I know," Axiomel said.
"And you still want it."
"Yes."
Thyrion grinned. "Good."
They sat on the low stone wall outside the guild hall, splitting a stale loaf and discussing details like it actually mattered.
Planning was imminent they had accepted the mission, now they had to fufill it.
"Village is two days out," Kastor said, chewing thoughtfully. "Assuming we don't rush."
"We don't rush," Axiomel replied.
"Agreed," Myris said. "Undead activity means night danger. We arrive there tired, we die."
Eryx nodded. "We'll need horses."
"There's a ranch east of the city," Thyrion said. "The old man there owes me."
Kastor smirked. "Everyone owes you."
"Because I don't die," Thyrion said proudly.
Axiomel glanced at him. Something about that statement stuck him.
They finalized their supplies:
Ropes, Arrows, Oil, Salt, Iron spike and enough food for three days.
Nothing fancy. Just practical.
----
The sun rose with an indifferent haste
Axiomel stopped by the doorway just as Eleni tied off the last bundle of herbs.
"You're leaving early," she said without looking up.
"At dawn."
She hummed softly. "Of course you are."
He leaned against the frame. "You mad?"
She finally turned to him, eyes sharp. "I'm never mad when you leave. I'm mad when you don't come back especially not on time."
He smiled faintly. "That's fair."
She crossed the room and pressed something warm into his hand - a small strip of cloth, wrapped tight.
"Don't open it unless you have to," she said. "It's not magic. Just… comfort."
He closed his fingers around it. "You always do this."
"And you always pretend it doesn't help."
She reached up, adjusting his collar like he was still a child.
"You keep those boys alive and that girl," she said quietly. "They follow you because you look forward, even when you shouldn't."
He swallowed. "I'll try."
She rested her forehead briefly against his chest.
"Come back," she said. "That's all I ask of you and the gods."
He nodded once.
"I will."
She stepped back, studying him one last time.
"Be careful, Axiomel."
He turned toward the door, then paused.
"Mother?"
"Yes?"
"…Thank you."
She smiled. "Always."
The others waited calmly outside as Axiomel walked out and immediately set off to the ranch.
The horses weren't pretty.
They were strong, stubborn beasts with scarred flanks and eyes that suggested they'd seen worse than bad weather. The rancher barely looked at them as he handed over the reins.
"Bring 'em back alive," he muttered. "They're smarter than most warriors."
Kastor grinned. "So are we."
"That's debatable," Myris said.
They rode out as the sun climbed, Sparta shrinking behind them until it was just stone and dust on the horizon.
The first day passed quietly.
Fields gave way to rougher terrain. Conversation ebbed and flowed—jokes, complaints, memories of training yards and old insults that had lost their sting.
That night, they camped beneath an open sky.
Thyrion roasted meat badly. Eryx complained loudly. Kastor stole food off everyone's plate.
Axiomel sat slightly apart, sharpening his blade.
"You always get quiet before jobs," Myris said, settling beside him.
"Thinking," she replied.
"About?"
He hesitated. "What happens if we fail."
She studied him. "We won't."
"That's not assuring"
"You just have to live with it."
She said resting a head on his shoulder
He nodded slowly.
The second day felt heavier.
The air changed. Not dramatically. Just… less alive. Birds were fewer. The wind carried a cold edge despite the sun.
They slowed.
"That village is close," Eryx said quietly.
They saw it by afternoon.
Smoke rose thin and gray from broken chimneys. No movement. No sound.
Kastor swallowed. "That's not good."
Axiomel dismounted first.
"Camp outside," he said. "We observe before we move in"
They tied the horses, checked weapons, exchanged looks.
Thyrion cracked his neck. "Whatever's in there picked the wrong place."
Axiomel looked at the silent village.
"I hope we didn't" He said quietly
They moved forward together.