Greece, 689 BC

 

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Yet another war against another tribe. Jason was riding next to his father through the harsh and dry land towards the other town. He was still a boy, not old enough yet to have a leading position. But being the son of a general had him riding on top of the troop, not walking among the few thousand soldiers behind them.

 

“It is a good day, Jason.” His father told him. “We will almost reach the other town today. Just half a day more and we’ll be there.”

Jason nodded mutely. He had learned that his father like to talk in a cheerful manner whenever he didn’t want a response. Same wen for pretty much every tone he used.

 

They went on for the rest of the day. The sun was burning mercilessly and Jason wanted to ask his father for water for the soldiers. But when he made the proposition, he was just kicked down from the horse.

 

No one helped him carry most of their water bottles.

 

 

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At night they put up their tents. The soldiers wordlessly took the bottles from Jason and drank without any water for him. He understood it made a twisted kind of sense; he had never made any outstanding achievements to deserve riding on a horse. They just saw the spoiled son of a general who didn’t have to worry about anything.

 

They didn’t know about the torturing training late at night that caused Jason to cough up blood in the end.

They didn’t hear Jason’s complaints about the harsh treatment of the soldiers or his wishes to be part of them.

 

After he had scooped together the last drops of water in the bottles, he advanced towards his father’s tent. The soldiers shot him disdainful looks as he went through them. But Jason tried not to show how it hurt him. He understood that he could never be one of them. They hated him for his status he’d reached without any effort and there was nothing he could do. He had never met his mother, he had no siblings (his father preferred boys; the night with a woman, and ultimately Jason, had been an accident).

 

He was all alone.

 

There was no one to miss him when he’d be gone.

 

His father would maybe mourn the opportunities to show off his perfectly trained son. But even that wasn’t certain.

 

When he reached the tent, he cleared his throat loudly before entering in the hopes, he wouldn’t see a too disturbing scene. I didn’t help: his father was almost , only the basic, short toga they all wore under their armor was left to cover his privates. But his three current boys were all completely . One was feeding him grapes, the other slowly poured wine into the golden cup in the man’s hand and the third let his small fingers travel over Jason’s father’s chest.

 

“Ah Jason!” The general hollered, already sounding drunk. “You wanna join us?” He grunted in laughter and squeezed the grapes-boy’s backside, making him yelp.

 

“No, thank you father.” Jason replied, slightly disgusted.

 

“You’re such a whimp!” The other roared and threw a knife at him which Jason skillfully dodged. He didn’t reply and shuffled towards his thin mat, only consisting of woven reed. As he laid down, he could hear his father grumble about his spineless son. But soon that was replaced with moans and high-pitched squeals and squelching.

 

Jason didn’t turn around once and didn’t take off his armor to sleep. The nights were getting colder, and his father was shielding all the warmth of the small fire.

 

When he drifted into unconsciousness, he dreamt of horrible pains.

Some part of him was being ripped apart mercilessly but he didn’t know which, it hurt so much, his insides were on fire, burning his white robe. Wait white robe? But then the thought was gone and he realized he was falling, falling from incredible heights but the wind that hit him did nothing to soothe the fire that was eating him alive. Like a forest fire, it gained more and more deadly fervor the deeper he fell.

Suddenly there was a scream next to him and he tried to see where it came from but it was too dark to see anything. He desperately tried to make out any outlines but then his hand was painfully jerked forward, losing its grip on something he hadn’t noticed before and in the split second of a lightning, he could see another boy, a beautiful boy, his white robes torn and splattered with blood, falling further and further out of his reach.

 

 

 

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Jason awoke with a blood curling scream. Tears streamed down his face while he gasped and heaved for air. His lungs were constricting so badly that he arched off the bed and eventually to his side to cough up blood. He whimpered when he saw the red spot on the dirt, deeply afraid. But his airways slowly calmed down and he coughed weakly, hitting his chest to ease the pain inside.

 

The images of his dream flooded back into his mind and he quickly sat up. He remembered everything.

He remembered flying above the clouds, feeling the wind ruffle through the feathers of his wings.

He remembered being just as alone as he was in this first life on earth.

He remembered the other’s eyes, so dark and beautiful that no words were needed before their souls intertwined and they crashed into each other.

He remembered His and Raphael’s last words to them.

He remembered the pain.

 

“I have to find him.” Jason murmured and let his eyes focus on his surroundings. What he saw startled him. He had expected to see his father passed out in the middle of his boys, inside of the tent. But there was absolutely nothing around him, not tent, no other soldiers, not even a horse.

 

He squinted into the sunlight and realized that the sun was standing very high. So high in fact that the middle of the day had probably already passed.

 

His father’s words from the day before rang through his eras; the small army must have already reached the town. He had a bad feeling about this…

 

With a small growl he sprang up and, leaving his mat it was, started running. He knew where to find the town, it was simple, just follow the small river. Making just one stop to drink some of the river’s dirty water and relieve himself, Jason reached the town in a full sprint.

 

The houses were already burning and the inhabitants ran around, screaming and crying for help. His father’s soldiers were raiding the town, some already loaded with the small treasures they had found, others dragging sobbing women or boy behind them.

 

Jason had seen attacks like this so often already and never had they made him feel so sick to the stomach like this one did. His breath was wheezing through his clenched teeth and his legs hurt from the exhaustion he put them through without warming them up first. But he didn’t have time for that.

 

Running forward, through the flames, he frantically looked left and right, not really knowing what he was searching for. He knew he had to be there anywhere, there was no way he wouldn’t be.

 

The house next to him crumbled down due to the flames and he had to jump side to not be burned. A small whimper caught his ears. He whirled around in the hopes to see him but there was just a small girl, crying something in a language he didn’t understand. She was pointing at another house, one that looked ready to collapse as well.

 

Jason was about to turn around and search somewhere else when he made out a pair of dark eyes inside the house. A shock that felt like a lightning had struck him, rooted him to the floor.

 

He had found him.

 

Never breaking eye contact, Jason stormed forward. Raw fear flickered in the other’s eyes at the sight of an enemy soldier running towards him.

 

But then the house collapsed, sending sparks to fly everywhere, burying everything underneath the wood.

Jason screamed and surged forward even faster, faster than he was usually capable of. In his panic his brain shut down and he didn’t even think of any danger when he lunged into the burning ruins. The pain the burns inflicted on him weren’t registered as he made his way towards where his love was trapped. He would have overlooked him if he hadn’t seen some strands of dark hair peeking out from underneath a pile of ashes and small glowing pieces.

 

Biting back a sob, Jason used his bare hands to push the pile away. He brushed his tears away with his upper arms while he worked. In an agonizingly slow pace, the face and body of the boy were revealed and Jason almost choked on the happiness to see the other’s chest move slightly in regular intervals.

 

“He’s alive!” He whimpered, the relief making him move them pile away even fast. When the ash was gone (and Jason’s hands already full of blisters), he let out another scream of frustration upon seeing a large boulder across the boy’s legs. Thankfully, it was not outright on flames, but still glowing with small nests of embers.

 

It took all of Jason’s strength to remove it. The muscles in his arms were straining so much, he was afraid they would break out of his skin. With a loud groan he managed to move it aside enough push the other’s legs away with his foot.

 

Letting the boulder crash down onto the floor, Jason hurriedly grabbed the boy’s arms and lifted him up, throwing him onto his back, so that the arms where over Jason’s shoulders. He had never been as thankful for his father’s merciless training as in that very moment.

 

As soon as he had maneuvered the two of them out of the house’s ruins, Jason took a deep breath. His love was out of immediate danger so far and in his arms. For the first time that day he allowed himself a moment of closed eyes.

 

With a small huff, he rearranged until he held the other in his arms, cradled against his chest. “We’ll get you back together, I promise.” Jason mumbled as he started running yet again, out of the small town and in the direction of the small stream.

 

The sun was just about to set.

 

Afraid that the boy had burns underneath the toga where he couldn’t see them, Jason didn’t undress him before he took a few careful steps into the water. He lowered himself slowly into a seated position so that the other boy could lie in his lap while getting drenched. He had heard some of the old, wise women talk about what to do when someone was exposed to fire and water had been on top of the list. Granted, these women had also talked about certain herbs but Jason couldn’t remember about those.

He wished he could.

 

It worried him that his love was so unresponsive. He hadn’t even shown any signs of consciousness since they’d arrived at the river. His breathing proved that he was alive but other than that…

 

Using the last, fading sunrays of the day, Jason took a closer look. The other boy wasn’t a stunning beauty as he’d been as an angel. He was actually rather ordinary looking with no extremely handsome, nor ugly features. But his usually probably olive colored skin was littered with burns of varying sizes. Jason’s throat tightened at the view.

 

How could his love be so injured? Did God really hate them so much?

 

With gentle movements, he slowly slid the boy out of his clothes and threw the toga to the ground next to the stream. Not caring that he was fully , Jason inspected the other’s body, searching for any injuries he hadn’t seen before. He could find many small burns, especially in the area of the chest and neck. They looked painful but not too bad.

Not as bad as his legs. His legs looked horrible, crushed and bent out of shape.

 

Instead of some injuries scattered all around, there was one huge burn, a straight line from his right mid-thigh over to his left shin bone. Along that line, his legs looked terribly dented. The boulder had done way more damage than Jason had first anticipated.

 

Teary eyed, he let one hand leave the boy’s body and used it to let water stream over his neck, where he wasn’t under water. It was getting darker and darker and Jason knew he had to go and find his father. He didn’t know his ways around in that area and dressed in his armor would almost certainly ensure to be attacked. He was an enemy after all.

 

Still mindlessly pouring the water over the boy in his arms, Jason’s thoughts were just about to drift off. He hadn’t had time to really think after he remembered… But a rustling sound nearby jerked him up. Panic began to hit him.

When God had talked about lives full of hardships, he couldn’t have meant dying right after they met, right?

 

The noise came nearer and nearer and Jason was unable to move; not only would the splashing of the water alert the other party that he was there, they boy was still unconscious and horribly hurt. There was no way they would have a chance to get away from whoever was there. They would have to wait and hope that they wouldn’t be discover-

- a figure appeared next to the river. The blinding red light of the setting sun had Jason squeeze his eyes together as he looked up. At first he just saw a, surprisingly small, silhouette and when his sight adjusted to the surroundings, he breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Next to them, clad in only a few rests of his destroyed toga, stood the little boy from before. The one who had caught his attention so that he could find his love.

 

“Hey little one,” Jason murmured with a tired twitch of his lips. He knew the boy couldn’t understand him in the least. But he also knew that the boy in his arms wouldn’t be there without him. As expected he didn’t get an answer but he took the appearance of the boy as a sign that he should get out of the water.

 

Ever so carefully, he stood up, his arms keeping a tight grip on his love. His clothes were heavier because of all the water they had sought in. He didn’t care. When he had earth under his sandals again, he crouched down again and laid the unconscious boy onto the ground.

 

The small boy hadn’t moved at all, he was still staring at Jason.

The latter cleared his throat awkwardly – the cold treatment he had received all his life had led to almost no social skills. He should start with the basics.

 

“Jason.” He said and pointed at himself before he did the same at the boy with a questioning expression on his face. The boy tilted his head to the side.

“Jason.” Jason repeated the process two more times until the boy’s confused face lit up.

 

Pointing his small finger at himself he announced: “Timon” and laughed.

 

The sound had Jason smile truly for the first time in a long time. “Alright Timon.” He chuckled. A thought flashed through his mind and he knew he had to try. Repeating both their names and pointing at them, he eventually pointed at the boy lying in front of him. His face sported the most hopeful look he had ever had but even though he knew Timon had understood him, the young boy just looked at him helplessly. Even when Jason tried again, the boy didn’t answer.

 

“So you don’t know, huh?” He mumbled, dejected. Absentmindedly, he brushed some hair out of his love’s face, loving the feeling of smooth skin under his fingertips. “I’ll call you Kallias.” He whispered before calling Timon’s attention again. “Kallias.” He pointed at his love and said the name several times.

 

“Ka- Kallias?” Timon asked, obviously not used to the name. Jason nodded vividly and stood up – not before caressing Kallias’ face once again – to pick up the toga he had discarded earlier. The heat of the day that had lodged itself into the earth had almost dried it perfectly but it was still moist enough to not rub unnecessarily over the many burns on Kallias’ skin.

 

Timon was slowly over Kallias’ hair when Jason went back to them, probably trying to copy Jason. The boy couldn’t have seen more than 6 winters.

 

After Jason had, with Timon’s clumsy help, dressed Kallias in the ripped toga again, the sun had already set and the light of the day was fading quickly. With Kallias in his arms again, Jason gestured for Timon to grab onto his clothes and they started to walk towards the burnt down town. The closer they came, the more Timon hid behind Jason. Town people were still scattered around, aimlessly running around, still in their state of panic, even though the soldiers Jason belonged to had already left.

 

Because he was still wearing his armor, Jason did his best to hide in the bushes that surrounded the town. There had to be a hint to where his people had gone. They couldn’t have just disappeared; Jason hadn’t been gone that long. He walked on, in a circle around the town, Timon still on his heels and Kallias still passed out. He had expected Timon to eventually leave and go to his family but the boy stayed with him, not even making a notion to wanting to leave.

 

When Jason finally found the trail his small army had left behind, he turned around to look at Timon. With a gentle smile he pointed at the town. Timon’s eyes followed his movement but he shook his head and gripped tighter onto Jason’s toga that peeked out from his armor.

 

“Huh, you’re not going back?” Jason asked, flabbergasted. Timon must have understood his quizzical expression because he shook his head again, even more adamantly than before. “Alright then… I guess I’ll take you with me?” Offering a gentle nod , Jason spun around again and went into the direction his father had most likely taken with his soldiers.

 

 

 

 

 

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So that's the first chaper ^_^ At first I wanted to have each life in a chapter, but it would have gotten too long and I didn't want to let you wait for too long. But I have holidays now, so I have time to write this.

Is it very confusing with the names? Is there anything you don't like? Anything you do like? Anything you think I should change? (Any grammar mistakes? >.<) Please tell me, neh? <3

 

(At least they can be weird together)