(PS: Please support me on patreon there 135+ chapters there and there also my new GoT: The True Dragon Fanfiction of Game of Thrones
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The moon hung high and bright over Kephallonia, a perfect white coin suspended in the sky. Its glow washed over the hills, turning the rocky slopes and ancient olive trees into shapes of soft silver and deep shadow.
The four companions slowed their pace, letting their horses walk side by side along the rough dirt path. The tension from the rescue had entirely faded, replaced by a warm, quiet camaraderie. The night air smelled sharply of pine resin and the distant, salty spray of the sea. Cicadas hummed lazily around them, their chorus blending with the soft footfalls of the animals.
Phoibe walked between Kassandra and Alexios, swinging her arms slightly with the leftover adrenaline of survival. Her face was flushed, eyes bright, practically sparkling in the ethereal moonlight.
Kassandra glanced down at her, her voice gentler than usual. "So, Phoibe… if you want to, you can come with me. Travel the world. Athens, Naxos, Sparta… all of it. A different life awaits."
Phoibe stopped walking for half a heartbeat. Her mouth fell open. Her breath caught in her throat. She had dreamed of Athens every night—but hearing a serious invitation from Kassandra herself felt entirely unreal.
"I—" she stammered, barely getting one syllable out.
"OF COURSE she should come!" Alexios shouted suddenly, throwing both arms into the air in a dramatic flourish.
Phoibe startled. "Wha—?"
"Obviously!" Lukas boomed, his deep voice carrying across the quiet fields, nodding so hard his thick hair bounced.
Kassandra raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Excuse me? I believe I was speaking."
Alexios continued, ignoring her completely. "Kassandra's going to be sailing all over Greece. She'll be in battles. Wars. Adventures! And what will Phoibe do here?" He pointed dramatically at the dirt path. "Sweep the same patch outside Markos's house for the next ten years, hoping for a single coin of profit?"
Phoibe giggled, a bright, clear sound.
Lukas stepped closer, managing a gentle tone despite his size. "And we have little brothers and sisters at our camp. Kids your age. They like games. And stories. And stealing Alexios's food."
Alexios jabbed him with a sharp elbow. "HEY—keep my provisions out of this!"
Phoibe blinked rapidly as the words sank in. "There… are there others like me?"
"Many," Alexios said proudly. "And they will like you instantly. Everyone likes Phoibe."
Her eyes widened. Hope shimmered in them, a brilliant reflection of the moonlight.
Kassandra watched her, a feeling of softness settling in her chest.
Alexios, meanwhile, leaned toward Kassandra with a mischievous smirk. "We're being helpful, sister."
Lukas nodded sagely. "Recruitment efficiency."
Kassandra stared at them both, thoroughly unimpressed. "You two look less like helpful heroes and more like kidnappers trying to steal a child."
Alexios shrugged, unbothered. "She's small. Easy to carry."
"Oh, By the Gods," Kassandra hissed, rubbing her temples vigorously.
Phoibe laughed aloud—a joyful little sound that cut through the night.
The group continued walking, their steps crunching softly on the path. Phoibe's excitement slowly shifted into a thoughtful quiet. She tapped her fingers together, her brows furrowing as she weighed the monumental decision.
Athens…Leaving Kephallonia…Traveling with Kassandra…Having new friends…
Finally, she looked up at the tall mercenaries surrounding her and nodded with a tiny, determined smile.
"I want to go with you, Kassandra. I don't want to stay here forever. And… I need to see Athens again." Her voice trembled—but with hope, not fear.
Kassandra let out a slow breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
"Good," she said softly. "Then it's settled." She placed a heavy, reassuring hand on Phoibe's shoulder. "But don't rush. Say goodbye to your friends properly. We leave in two days. I still have things to fix before then."
Phoibe nodded so enthusiastically her braids bounced wildly. "I'll be ready," she said with a proud little grin.
The group continued toward the vineyard, the moonlight guiding them forward—toward family, trouble, and the next chapter of their journey together.
The vineyard came into view slowly—first the crooked wooden fence, then the long rows of grapevines shimmering under the moonlight like waves of silver-green. Crickets chirped loudly in the warm night air, and the familiar, heavy scent of fermented grapes drifted lazily toward them.
At the top of the hill stood Markos's house—small, worn from weather, and absolutely shaking from the sound of a woman's voice.
Shouting. Lots of shouting. A woman's voice boomed across the vineyard like an angry, vengeful deity.
"YOU PROMISED, MARKOS! YOU PROMISED ME!"
Kassandra winced and massaged her forehead. "Oh by the gods… What fresh disaster has he created now?"
Alexios sighed dramatically, crossing his arms. "What doesn't he do?"
Lukas scratched his head. "Maybe we should turn around and wait in the olive grove?"
Phoibe shook her head quickly. "No! If we leave now, she'll just start yelling at US!"
The four hesitantly walked up the path—like warriors marching toward an inevitable doom—until the yard came into full view.
There stood Drucilla, arms flailing wildly, fists clenched, eyes burning with the righteous fury of a woman pushed past her limits. Sawdust clung to her tunic—proof she had probably abandoned her workshop mid-scream just to come yell at Markos.
Markos himself stood opposite her, hands raised in a futile attempt at defense, smiling a smile so nervous it was almost a grimace.
"Drucilla! Drucilla, please!" Markos pleaded. "Let us be calm, sensible adults—"
"ADULTS?!" Drucilla roared, her voice cracking with indignation. "DON'T—you DARE—call yourself an adult, Markos!"
Markos stumbled back with a gasp. "I—well—"
"You told me," Drucilla continued, shaking a finger so close to his face he almost went cross-eyed, "that you would deal with the bandits at the Lumber Shipyard! You SAID they'd be gone in two days!"
"Yes, and—"
"And what?! They're STILL THERE! They chased me with axes this morning, you spineless donkey!"
Lukas leaned toward Alexios and whispered, "Should we help him?"
Alexios didn't even blink. "Absolutely not. This is magnificent."
Phoibe nodded quickly. "Markos completely deserves this."
Kassandra stepped between the two combatants before Drucilla's rage reached volcanic levels.
"Markos," she said flatly. "Explain yourself."
Markos's smile froze, becoming too wide to be real. "Ah! Kassandra! My favorite misthios! My dear partner! This is, uh—"
Drucilla cut him off mid-sentence. "I'LL explain! That old goat agreed to clear the bandits. He made promises!" She stamped her foot, raising a small cloud of dust. "PROMISES, Kassandra! And what did he do instead? NOTHING! He spent the drachmae on cheap wine!"
Markos placed a dramatic hand over his heart. "Drucilla, my dear woodcarving genius, your words wound me deeply."
"Not as much as the BANDITS will wound me if I go back there!" she snapped.
Kassandra rubbed her temples—a universal sign of a Markos-related migraine. "Drucilla," she said patiently, "I'll handle it. First thing tomorrow morning, those bandits will be gone. That's a promise."
Drucilla froze. Her towering anger cracked, just a little. "Well…" she said, squinting hard at Kassandra's face. "When you say it, I believe it." She shot Markos a final, venomous glare that could curdle milk. "You're lucky, old fool. Very lucky. Kassandra is out here cleaning your messes, again."
Markos attempted a proud smile. "What can I say? I inspire loyalty—"
"SHUT UP," Drucilla and Kassandra said at the exact same time, their voices perfectly synchronized.
Drucilla gave Kassandra a respectful nod, then stormed down the hill, muttering curses in a language older than Greece itself.
Silence settled heavily over the vineyard.
Phoibe hugged her arms, slightly awestruck. "She's… genuinely terrifying."
Alexios smirked and leaned in close. "Not as scary as Kassandra when she's hungry."
"I HEARD THAT," Kassandra said sharply, without turning around.
Alexios flinched dramatically, whispering fiercely to Lukas. "She has ears like an eagle…"
Phoibe whispered back, "She is the Eagle Bearer…"
Lukas nodded solemnly. "That's what makes it worse."
Kassandra glared at them all over her shoulder. "Keep talking," she warned, her voice low. "See what happens to your dinner tonight."
They immediately fell silent, scattering toward the house.
Markos, however, exhaled dramatically and patted his chest. "Well! I'm glad THAT'S over—"
"Markos," Kassandra said, "shut up. And go get the jug."
He shut up, but his grin returned.
Kassandra turned to the group. "Alexios, Lukas, Phoibe—go rest. We've got a busy day tomorrow. And don't touch my rations, Alexios."
Alexios stretched until his back cracked loudly. "Finally."
Lukas groaned. "My legs hurt from all the running away I did from Drucilla."
Phoibe yawned adorably. "Goodnight, Kassandra!"
The others went inside one by one, leaving Kassandra and Markos alone beneath the soft silver glow of the moon.
Kassandra went to the corner and pulled out a dusty jug of wine—Markos's cheap, sharp, but honest local vintage. She grabbed two cups, filled them, and handed one to him.
Markos grinned instantly. "Ah! My partner brings offerings to soothe my wounded spirit!"
"Drink," she said dryly. "Before I decide to feed this to the goats instead."
He sat first, sinking into the old wooden chair with a sigh. She joined him at the opposite side of the wine-stained table.
Crickets chirped beyond the vines; torch flames flickered, casting their shadows long and low. For a while, neither spoke. They drank. They breathed. They sat like they had a hundred times before—as partners, as a chaotic pair trying to survive Kephallonia together.
Finally, Kassandra broke the silence.
"I'm leaving Kephallonia, Markos. For good this time."
The words were simple, but the air shifted when she said them—heavy, inevitable, and final.
Markos stiffened. The cup slipped from his fingers and nearly fell. He caught it at the last second, his eyes wide and fixed on her face.
"Leaving?" he echoed quietly. "Truly… leaving?"
Kassandra nodded once, her gaze steady.
Markos stared at his wine, his lips pressed tightly. For the first time in a long while, he didn't try to joke. Didn't try to charm. Didn't try to dodge the issue. He simply… sat with the weight of it.
After a long moment, he let out a breath—slow, shaky, but warm.
"I always knew this day would come," he murmured. "You… you were never meant to stay here. This island is too small for someone like Kassandra the Eagle Bearer."
She looked down at her cup, fingers tightening around the clay. "Markos… you need to stop getting into trouble. The bandits, the scams, the—everything. I won't be here to drag you out of whatever pit you fall into next."
Markos laughed—softer than usual, almost tender. "Hah! Don't worry about me, partner! I'm Markos! I slip, I fall, I roll, and somehow I land on my feet! Always have. I'm like a very rich, very clumsy cat."
"That's exactly what concerns me," she muttered.
He took a long drink, then leaned back in his chair, staring up at the moon. "You should go, Kassandra," he said finally. "Go where your heart pulls you. You've always been special… from the day I found you on this island. I knew you'd change the world someday. I just didn't expect to still be alive to watch it happen."
Kassandra felt something twist gently inside her chest. Markos rarely—if ever—spoke with such genuine sincerity. But tonight, he meant every word.
"Thanks, Markos. For everything," she whispered.
He smiled—a tired, crooked smile that held years of shared struggles and chaos.
They drank more wine as the hours crept by. They reminisced.
"Remember when you first set foot on this island?" Markos laughed.
"That was a long time ago," Kassandra grumbled.
"And when you beat the mercenary I hired for protection?"
"He tried to steal from me."
"And that time you said you'd leave and work on another island, but you came back the next day?"
"That was because you forgot to pay me, you old fool."
They both laughed softly, the kind that wasn't loud or wild—but heavy with memories.
Eventually, the night deepened. The moon began its slow descent. The torches guttered.
Kassandra stood first. Markos pushed himself to his feet with a grunt.
"Rest well, Kassandra," he said, his voice quieter than she'd ever heard it.
"You too, Markos."
They looked at each other—not as misthios and client, not as troublemaker and problem-solver, but as two people whose lives had been tangled together in strange, messy ways.
It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't loud. Just two old companions sharing a silent understanding: Things were changing. Nothing would be the same again.
Markos hesitated, then reached out and squeezed her arm—a rare show of affection that lasted only a second.
"Go," he whispered. "Make your own story, partner."
Kassandra nodded once, the smallest smile touching her lips.
Then they turned away and walked toward their separate doors—their shadows stretching long across the vineyard.
Tomorrow would come soon. And with it, a new beginning.
(PS: Please support me on patreon there 135+ chapters there and there also my new GoT: The True Dragon Fanfiction of Game of Thrones
https://patreon.com/BX_XDS)