Chapter 41

  Hektor was surprised by the sense of gratification that he found in the discipline of the body.

  For the longest time, exercise and conditioning hadn’t appealed to him. Even knowing the reason and benefits of such, Hektor could never picture himself amongst the crowd who took to physical training. He never would have imagined being a regular on the fields in the barracks, working out side by side with guards and soldiers.

  Most of all, he wouldn’t have known that he would end up liking it.

  Hektor methodically completed his final push-up in his last set of ten. He arose slowly, acknowledging the burn in his upper body, breathing deeply through his nose and exhaling by the mouth, flexing his body taut and keeping his stretch at its maximum.

  Hektor found himself addicted to the balance and focus of the endeavor. He reveled in the state of mindfulness, of being fully in the moment and only concerned with executing his actions with the correct form and prescribed breathing. Nothing else mattered in that moment and his hectic thoughts were blissfully subdued.

  Strengthening came to be secondary as Hektor chased the meditative aspect he had unearthed in his exercises. For someone whose mind was a buzzing hive of thoughts and ideas, Hektor found the regimen to be a calming balm to his frenzy.

  After the first week, the aches and protests of the body had instead transformed into a conversation. A communion between the mind and body. Despite practicing in the open fields amongst others, Hektor found the process strangely intimate. It felt like a kind of intuition, like finding an ignored side of himself. There was a profound satisfaction in the self-discovery, as it was to add to his dexterity.

  The only other time that he experienced a similar feeling was when he wielded his magic. The world and its distractions blurred away when he practiced his telekinesis. It was the only other thing that brought with it the equanimity that Hektor desperately craved.

  The new hobby had given rise to new avenues. What if Hektor could somehow incorporate his physical and magical training together? What would that entail? Was it even possible?

  Hektor spent many an hour daydreaming as to the possibilities. Unfortunately, the one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t have the time to pursue it just yet. He would have to wait.

  Finishing his routine, Hektor stood at attention as Instructor Ferdinand marched over. A month had passed since their first meeting and both of them had since grown more comfortable around each other.

  Ferdinand had his signature frown and Hektor knew what he was going to say before he spoke.

  “If I had a little more time,” Ferdinand muttered half to himself, “I would have made something out of you,” he grumbled.

  Hektor had listened to the Captain’s favorite grievance many times over. The Captain itched to train Hektor as he would a subordinate under his command, but always refrained from doing so under Sabina’s original orders. His grumblings were the extent of him venting his frustrations at leaving Hektor’s potential on the table.

  Over to the side, Hektor observed Peter performing the more advanced maneuvers along the likes of headstands, vertical pushups, inverted crunches, and various combinations of exercises meshed together into a grueling gauntlet.

  Not one to procrastinate, Ferdinand announced, “Dismissed,” and walked away without any ceremony.

  Hektor had little time to spare and quickly made his return trip to the castle. His feet traversed the frequent path on their own as he was still enjoying the meditative calm of his exertions. It led to the absurd habit of Hektor’s where he tried to hold on to his post-workout serenity for the longest time he could, knowing all the same that he was being intentionally oblivious in the process.

  The numbness helped as he entered the castle proper and made his way to his quarters. Over time, Hektor had conditioned himself to ignore the unpleasantness until he adjusted to the surroundings.

  Close to his rooms, a messenger stepped in his path to bring Hektor out of his trance.

  “Pardon, Young Master Hektor. The Duchess requests your presence at her quarters before your lessons,” the messenger delivered.

  Hektor redonned his etiquette as he spoke. “Thank you. Is it urgent or do I have the time to make myself presentable?” he asked, indicating to his unkept state.

  “May I be bold to suggest that you do so quickly,” the messenger advised subserviently.

  “Then I shall hurry.” Hektor bid farewell and quickened his stride. He wasn’t perturbed by the summon as he would have a few weeks ago. Having grown accustomed to the disruptions and demands of his day to day, Hektor took things in his stride with a greater ease.

  Hektor didn’t linger in his new rooms, barely paying mind to the luxurious accommodations as he rushed through a quick bath. Within quarter of an hour, he was presentable and out his door marching to his mother’s close by. He looked to his wrist watch, the very same gift of Samuel Croft’s, to find that it was thirty-four past eight.

  He arrived at his destination and entered the parlor room. His stride stuttered at spotting the stranger in the room with his mother. And a most striking stranger at that.

  The woman was over two meters tall.

  Hektor just gawked at the Evalonian for a moment. There was no doubt that as to the fact that the woman was Evalonian, hailing from the queendom of Evalon beyond the sea. Her stature and demi-god physique would always give her away.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Overcoming the shock of coming across such a memorable visitor, Hektor’s memory twitched in recognition.

  However, he wasn’t allowed the time as the giantess strode forth towards him. It was a surreal thing watching such a tall person eat up the ground as they came closer, taking up the space like a rising behemoth dominating the horizon.

  Before Hektor could retreat a step, the woman with her long arms scooped Hektor in a bear hug. Hektor’s feet left the ground as the woman proceeded to swing him like a ragdoll in her embrace.

  “By the Goddess! Look how much you have grown!” the woman squealed in a pleasant voice as she tightened her grip.

  Hektor felt like he was being crushed against a stone wall. The only things supple were her bosom and they were content to suffocate him.

  Hektor tried to muster any dignity he could as he struggled to free himself. Only to give in to the inevitable and endure.

  Watching on in amusement, Sabina was content to let her son suffer.

  Eventually, after having her fill of him, the woman unceremoniously let go of him.

  Hektor almost fell on his backside, but managed to crouch and catch himself at the last moment. He regained his balance and looked to the woman with a smile.

  “Aunt Astrid!” he exclaimed.

  In reply, the woman proceeded to give him another crushing hug. “You remember!” she celebrated, twirling Hektor in a circle.

  Carrying Hektor over, Astrid shuffled towards Sabina and deposited a dizzy Hektor on the sofa and sat beside him. She spared him a moment to speak to his mother, “Big Sister, he shot up like a weed! I remember him when he was ye big,” she spread her wide arms to indicate a child’s height.

  With a second to collect his thoughts, Hektor remembered his Aunt Astrid. It had taken him a moment to recognize her for he had been only seven when he had last seen her. Also, she had grown her hair long from her bob-cut since then. Her more conservative attire of a men’s jacket and pantaloons had also stumped him for he always remembered her to wear knee length skirts with sandals of ribbon across her calves.

  Seeing her look at him with affectionate eyes and an honest smile, Hektor didn’t find it hard to return her enthusiasm.

  “Aunt Astrid, how are you here?”

  Astrid brought her hands to her hips akimbo. “I am here for your birthday, of course!” she spoke fluently, with the barest of foreign accent.

  Hektor passed a glance towards his mother, suspecting that there was more to it. Still, he was all too happy to meet her again. “I am so happy to see you, Aunt Astrid.”

  Astrid ruffled his hair. “I was close by and Big Sister always sends me letters asking me to come. When I heard, I simply had to visit. It seems Big Sister didn’t believe I would,” she pouted playfully at Sabina.

  Sabina shook her head. “Can you blame me? You claim to visit every year, and every time you manage to find some adventure that prevents you from doing so.”

  Astrid rubbed the back of her head. “Sorry, Big Sister,” she apologized, not at all apologetic.

  “What adventures?” Hektor interjected, his curiosity peaked.

  “No, you first!” Astrid wrapped an arm round Hektor’s shoulders. “You have been having your own adventures! The things I hear about you are like the fables I read when I was a kid.”

  “Me?” Hektor questioned as he tried, and failed, to wrestle away from Astrid’s hold of him.

  Astrid easily pivoted Hektor by the shoulder so that he was sitting face to face with her.

  “Didn’t you suffer treachery at the hands of your brother?” she asked rhetorically, not giving Hektor a chance to answer. “By the judgement of Themis, you were wronged by your kin. Betrayed by your flesh and blood. Left for dead,” she narrated with dramatic flourish. “But you survived,” she whispered with a hiss. “And arose wiser than before.

  “You left your home to mend and journeyed to live amongst wise folk who shared with you their knowledge. You learnt from them their secrets as you healed and built your strength.

  “And then the Goddesses blessed you with power. Gave you the gift of magic. The Fates had plans for you,” Astrid uttered, her cadence that of a seer of obscure truths. “For soon after, your mother called you in her hour of need.

  “And being a dutiful son, you answered.

  “You returned home to become the lynchpin in a plot panning across nations. To be betrothed to the loveliest and wealthiest of women. And finally take that is yours by birthright and join the rulers of your nation in leading your people.”

  Astrid smirked and dropped her gravitas for storytelling. “Is that not an adventure? Does that not sound like a tale of heroes?”

  The Evalonians came from a famously brusque culture and it showed in Astrid. Knowing about it didn’t make it any easier for Hektor to hear his life being exaggerated and made grandiose for the sake of a fable.

  Oddly enough, Hektor had grown accustomed to such unreserved opinions and strong personalities, courtesy of Nazeer.

  “You exaggerate,” said Hektor with a rueful smile.

  Astrid tutted. “But did I lie?” she challenged.

  Hektor couldn’t say that she did. She had twisted the facts, but hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true.

  He was betrayed by Reginald and barely survived. The ordeal forcing him to mature at the cost of his childhood.

  He did leave the castle, but only to the city, and did indeed go on to live and study with his tutors. Wise folk all of them.

  Astrid was particularly eloquent in her insinuations of Fate and his awakening. Hektor couldn’t deny that he had felt something akin to divine intervention on that memorious day of him becoming a mage.

  And his mother had summoned him that fateful day. She had told him of his part in the political alliance, of his betrothal and his countship. And being the son of a Duchess, it was hard to argue that governance and politics weren’t his birthright.

  Hektor smiled and shook his head in defeat to Astrid. As young as he had been at the time, he only remembered her as a fun-loving aunt. He was entirely unprepared for her sharp wit.

  “You did not lie, Aunt Astrid. But you also did not say your reasons for not visiting us sooner,” Hektor fired back, bringing up the fact that Astrid had neglected visiting and become close to strangers with the mother and son.

  Hektor couldn’t do anything to the Evalonian, but no one got away from trying to pull one over Sabina.

  Unfortunately for him, he was still very much within reach of Astrid. By the time he had stopped speaking, Astrid had him in a headlock and was manhandling him for being cheeky and trying to get her in trouble.

  Sabina laughed at their antics and the pair of them paused to witness Sabina’s joy.

  Seeing that she had their attention, she spoke to Hektor. “Son, you should run along to your lessons. Astrid is staying with us and you can catch up later.” At his reluctance, she scolded, “Do not take them for granted, Hektor.”

  Chastened, Hektor quickly extricated himself from Astrid, who allowed him to leave with a promise to meet later.

  Once he left, Astrid looked to Sabina and expressed her doubts. “Are you sure about him, Big Sister?” she asked, picking up on an older conversation.

  Sabina remained resolute in her claim. “He shows the signs.”

  Astrid looked to the door where Hektor had just left. “Not all of them. And those could be explained by his treatment,” she countered suggestively.

  “I have faith.”

  Astrid observed Sabina, noting her confidence. “Are you sure?” she asked again.

  “More sure than unsure,” Sabina answered.

  Astrid crossed her leg square over her knee. “What are you plotting? If he does have the Boon, it will not be easy. Dangerous even. Are you sure you want to take the risk?”

  “When the time is right.”

  Astrid went still. “And when would that be?” she asked, growing suspicious.

  Sabina gave her a surreptitious look.

  Astrid pinched her lower lip with her fingers, trying to work things out. “Why?”

  “Not now,” Sabina kept her counsel. “It is still too soon.”

  Astrid scoffed. “I know better than to wager against you, Big Sister. But I can’t see Hektor being a Son of Eve.”