The room was hot and humid.The sound of metal swords being drawn and replaced in their scabbards echoed softly.Nervous whispers could be heard in the chamber where the soldiers awaited their commander.The year was 309 B.C.,and Sparta was at war with the barbarians from the south.Two days ago, the Spartan army was badly defeated,suffering many casualties.As a result, the king of Sparta had decided to draft a representative from every family to serve in the Spartan army aimed at pacifying the south.Among those drafted was a young boy who was no older than 23,he had dark brown hair, deep, blue eyes and a smooth face.He was a well built young man of common height.In his palm, the handle of his sword was drench with sweat.His name was Raphael.
Raphael was an orphan who lived his life off public sword-fighting displays and tournaments.He had never lost a fight before.Despite his reputation, he was still mistreated by his caretaker.He was often beaten up by D'Artangan, the bartender who took him in.In truth, D'Artangan was at that time short of hands and took Raphael in so he could have extra help.Raphael made more enemies than friends. The only two people who Raphael truly considered friends were unfortunately sitting beside him on either side.
On Raphael's right was Mikel, the heirloom to a fairly rich family estate in Athens.Mikel was slightly shorter than Raphael, but he too was well built.He was 21.He had long silver hair and brown eyes.His nose was rather pointy.Due to his family background, Mikel was well-trained in fencing, his master being an expensive teacher from Rome.One day, while being lectured by his father while inspecting the estate, Mikel sneaked off while his father was not looking. As Mikel was the only son, his father put up posters all over the city, offering a reward of 30 gold pieces to anyone who could bring his son back. It was said Mikel did not try to hide himself but instead stood in the center of the temple, holding a sword and offering to follow whoever defeats him back to the estate.Many tried and failed.Finally,Raphael stood forward.Despite being a great swordsman, Mikel was no match for Raphael who had more experience in real fights.Mikel accepted defeat within 5 rounds and followed Raphael home.Raphael earned the reward, and became friends with Mikel, who has since been training hard in hopes of one day outshining Raphael.
And then there was Tristan, a skinny young man who towered over both Raphael and Mikel.He had black hair and black eyes, the heritage he inherited from his mother, who was from Asia.Tristan and his single mother lived in poverty and Tristan had to steal to make ends meet.Once, he went to the market to steal an exotic jewel which had just come in from India.In the midst of his escape, he met Raphael.As Raphael did nothing to stop him,Tristan sped off but was soon cornered by the city guards who threatened to kill Tristan.Tristan held on to the jewel even more, screaming,'PLEASE!MY MOTHER IS SICK!"Deeply moved by Tristan's fidelity, Raphael immediately drew his sword and fought back the guards,helping Tristan to escape.Ever since, Tristan and Raphael have been constantly seen together acting suspiciously in the market.
"Raphael, what do you reckon the battlefields in the south is like?"asked Tristan.
"I don't know, I've never left Sparta before but you know what?I'm looking forward to fighting the barbarians."
"You sure like to fight Raphael,"said Mikel.
"Haha, of course.I have to keep improving. I need to test myself against stronger opponents.I have to become stronger."
"But, you're already very strong!"exclaimed Tristan.
"Not strong enough, my friend.I want to be the strongest in all of Greece."
"You sound like you want to be an Olympian."teased Tristan.
"Whatever you two, I'm just glad to be out of that estate."said Mikel matter-of-factly.
"Oh yeah,I almost forgot.How did your father react to the news that you were drafted?"asked Raphael.
"The old man nearly blew his head off, I bet!But then, isn't this what you always wanted?"To see the world?"said Tristan.
"Aye, but unfortunately, there isn't much to see where we're going."replied Mikel."At least I can be free, even if it is only because of this war.Being pent up in the estate is not the life for me."
"Why don't you tell your father?"asked Raphael.
"Because, if I did so, he'd have a heart attack."replied Mikel with a grin."I can see him now, "you ungrateful son of a mule..."HA!"
The three friends burst into silent fits of laughter.
"I wonder,"Raphael began, "what will our commander be like?"
"By the Gods, Raphael, you don't plan to duel with our commander do you?"asked Tristan worriedly.
"Of course not!I just...I just have the feeling that our fates will soon be decided, and it will be tied to our commander."
"Raphael, I think, you might have had a little too much wine for supper last night."
As Raphael was about to retort, the wooden door swung open to reveal a tall man wearing full Spartan armor with a lioncloth wrapped around his waist.He wore a Spartan war helmet with blue feathers signifying his status as one of the top commanders in the Spartan army.When he spoke, he spoke with the oomph of a true Spartan warrior.
"My name is Axel, and I will be your commander in the coming battles. I tell you solemnly to forget all your thoughts about returning home because we will not return home. When you step on to the battlefield in the coming days, THAT is your home. We might DIE out there, so I want you,"he stopped talking and walked over to the far corner of the room where a young man stood, stroking a fur coat which he brought from home.Axel took it and tore it up. "I cannot have you reminiscing about home, soldier.We will return with our shields, or upon them.That is the Spartan Coat of Arms.Now, I will need volunteers to lead the vanguard."
Axel started to pace the room, sizing up every soldier.Soon, his eyes fell on Raphael, Mikel and Tristan.
"Alright, you three will lead the vanguard."
"I thought he just said volunteer..."whispered Mikel.
"What was that,soldier?Did you just say something about me?"asked Axel menacingly as he took a step toward Mikel and grabbed him by the collar."Ah, the scent of Lavender's Kiss.You must be very rich to be able to afford this perfume.Tell me, what is your name?"
"M..Mikel."
"Well,Mikel, do not expect any special treatment in this army.And next time when you have something to say, you will ask my permission first, understood?"
"Y...Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes sir!"
"Good."Axel turned to eye the rest of the room."Our orders are simple.Anihilate the barbarians and return with the head of their leader, Beowoulf or die trying.Time waits for no one, make haste, let us be off.For Sparta!Long Live Emperor Xenahort!"
Raphael,Mikel and Tristan exchanged sharp looks with each other. It's going to be a long war.
"VANGUARD!MARCH!"
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