The next morning was the start of the last day of the Feast of Hera. By now, most of the festivities were coming to a close and the city was starting to resemble normal times once more.

Praxis woke up that morning still conflicted by the night before. It took him a long time to finally stir from bed, long after the sun was already in the sky. The only reason he did so was to visit his mother, who at least looked better than yesterday. While her face was still lacking in color, she was able to sit up in bed. Praxis hoped that the worst was hopefully over, and that he wouldn’t have to confront the idea of her dying anytime soon.

“Go on, enjoy the last day of the feast,” she urged, shooing him away from her bed. “You don’t need to be troubled with the woes of an old woman.”

Praxis listened to her but only because she looked so much better. He made his way into the city, finding that most of the population seemed to be moving slow this morning, their bodies recuperating from the copious amounts of wine consumed during the feast.

At least he wasn’t the only one late to arise that morning.

Praxis found himself moving in the direction of Lysandra’s house—a tiny hovel in one of the more crowded neighborhoods of the city. He knew that Lysandra and her brother didn’t have much, and it was a surprise they could even afford this place, as cheap as it was.

“Praxis, you’re here!” said an excited Lysander once Praxis arrived at the door. “Are you here to see my sister? Or to train with me?”

Praxis grinned. “Who knows? Maybe a little of both today? Do you feel like training?”

“I always feel like training!” said the excited youngster. “Come in, come in! I’ll go get my sword and shield!”

Praxis chuckled as the young man raced away in a hurry. It was only moments later that his sister appeared, looking very chipper at seeing Praxis in her house.

“I always wondered how long it would be until I got you in my house,” said Lysandra, embracing him. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“My mother is doing a lot better today,” said Praxis. “You were a great help to her. Not only yesterday but for the entire feast. When I saw how much better she looked, I just had the feeling that I wanted to tell you.”

Lysandra let out a genuine smile and kissed him softly. “Thank you for telling me. It’s wonderful to hear that. She’s tougher than she gives herself credit for but I was worried about her many times yesterday.”

“As was I,” said Praxis as he soon gestured to her brother. “I’m going to spar with your brother for a little and then maybe we can talk afterward?”

“Count on it,” she promised. “I’ll get some water so I can enjoy watching you sweat a little. It’s the closest thing I have to foreplay right now.”

Praxis got a good laugh out of that and soon he was training with her brother, spending the better part of an hour helping Lysander with his moves. The young man was showing considerable signs of progress in his training, and Praxis knew it was only a matter of time before he was ready to face just about any threat on the battlefield.

It was only after they were done training that Praxis got another moment alone with Lysandra. She brought him a small cup of wine as they rested in the shade of the house. There wasn’t much in the way of conversation at first, as Praxis was still stuck in his head about the events of yesterday.

Eventually, Lysandra noticed his distraction.

“You’re more troubled than usual this morning,” she said as she reached out to caress his leg. “Is this about your mother? Are you still worried about her?”

Praxis winced and gave her a half-nod. “Somewhat. It’s not so much about her health, although I’m still worried about that too. It’s more about what she told me last night.”

“What was that, Praxis?”

“It had to do with my father,” he replied. “I’ve never known anything about him. Every time I would ask my mother about him, she would get upset and refuse to answer. Last night, she told me everything. She gave me details I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear. In the process, she gave me even more questions but I just find myself conflicted about what to do with this information.”

Lysandra nodded slowly. “Why do you think she told you about this now?”

“She wanted me to have the information before she . . . before she . . .”

Praxis paused without saying the faithful words. He knew what he was trying to say. Doris wanted him to have the information before she died, but that was the last thing he wanted to think about at that point.

“I understand,” said Lysandra, catching his drift. “With this new information about your father, do you feel better or worse now?”

Praxis grunted and then shrugged his shoulders. “Horn of Hades, I have no idea. She seems to think he’s alive somewhere and that he’s probably in Messenia. That’s where he was born and that’s where she thinks he returned to after he abandoned our family. It’s the same reason why everyone in the city calls me foreigner. By the sounds of it, I’m not really an Argive at all. I’m Messenian.”

“You’re more of an Argive than most,” argued Lysandra. “And you care about your city greatly. Argos is lucky to have you.”

“Tell that to my stepfather,” quipped Praxis. “He’d disagree with you.”

“Well, he’d still be wrong,” she replied. “And I’ll know the truth. So do you have any inclination to actually find him? Your real father, that is?”

“Yes and no. Yes because it would satisfy an innate curiosity that I’ve had my entire life. No because he decided at one point that our family meant nothing to him. That he could just abandon us and pretend like we didn’t exist. I’m conflicted on what road to take. My mother thinks I should find him but now that I think about it, it might not be the best idea. I don’t know what I would do if he really was dead too. Especially if something happens to my mother.”

“Losing one’s parents can be very hard,” agreed Lysandra.

Praxis turned to look at her. “How did you and Lysander do it when your parents died? I imagine it was quite the struggle at first, right?”

Lysandra’s reaction to the question was incredibly noticeable. She stiffened and her body language turned completely cold. So too did her tone.

“It’s not something I want to talk about,” she said quickly, looking away from him. “At least not right now.”

Praxis realized he’d struck a nerve and reached over to touch her arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s not you, Praxis,” she said softly. “It’s just that the entire ordeal is something that I try to keep in the past. I don’t like to revisit it. Not willingly.”

“Forget I mentioned it,” he said, knowing there was much more to that story. Perhaps it was a tale for another time. Lysandra warmed to him again once they changed topics and Praxis didn’t dare broach the subject of her parents again. She offered the best advice she could give in relation to his parents and they separated around midday, when the very last part of the feast began.

The city was getting more animated as Praxis made his way from Lysandra’s house to the main marketplace where throngs of children had gathered to do their ceremonial dance as part of saying goodbye to Hera as her feast ended. Around the edges of the marketplace, proud parents stood by and cheered on their offspring as music began to play.

It was a joyous time for the city, and Praxis felt decidedly out of place with his current demeanor. He turned to walk away from the marketplace in order to head back to the palace when something caught his eyes.

It was a group of men, about ten in number altogether. They were making their way through the crowd slowly as if they didn’t know where they were going. Their bewildered expressions seemed to confirm the fact that they weren’t from Argos, as well as the fact that Praxis didn’t recognize any of their faces.

His curiosity stoked, he started to follow them as they walked along the marketplace toward the Aspida Hill. Each of them was carrying a small bag with them, but it was the half-open bag of the last man that caught Praxis’ attention.

Or rather, it was what was inside the bag.

It was a scarlet cloak. Scarlet in this part of the world was a rare sight and it was usually only reserved for a certain type of people.

And those people were usually Spartan warriors.

Immediately, Praxis went on high alert as he continued to watch the men. Were they actually soldiers? They didn’t look the part, although Praxis thought that they might be doing that on purpose. The city would have a visceral reaction to the sight of Spartan warriors within the boundaries of Argos and so it made sense for them to look as inconspicuous as possible.

And yet the more they moved, the more Praxis began to suspect his intuition was correct. But what possible gain could the Spartans have by secreting soldiers into the city?

And how could he stop them from achieving their plan?

Just as soon as they appeared, they were gone. Praxis watched as they all filed into the same nondescript house near the outskirts of the city. It was a house that he didn’t recognize but he was all but certain of their identities once they were off the street.

Something had to be done. Or rather, someone had to be alerted, and that person was Damian.

For that reason, Praxis moved quickly throughout the city on his way back to the palace, not stopping until he found his stepfather outside his mother’s room. Damian didn’t actually appear to look like his usual sour self. Something was different about his demeanor that morning, and he almost appeared relieved to see Praxis.

“We have to talk,” said Praxis as he tried to catch his breath. “I think Spartan soldiers are in the city. I think something is afoot right now—”

“That doesn’t matter,” said Damian, waving his hand.

Praxis felt the first stirrings of anger. “It does matter. I think the Spartans are up to no good in the city!”

The odd look never left Damian’s face. “Praxis, there are other things going on right now. Your chief concern needs not be about the Spartans but rather your mother.”

Praxis felt his heart seize in his chest at the mention of his mother. “Why? What’s going on?”

Damian shut his eyes and shook his head. “You need to say your goodbye to her now. She’s not going to see tomorrow.”

At that moment, Praxis’ entire world shattered.