Once upon a time in Sparta

age of heroes.

Hesiod paints that era with reverence and nostalgia.

Humanity has fallen from generation to generation since the Golden Age.The godless Silver Age, the Bronze Age that was obsessed with struggle and oblivion.

There were so many golden legends and glorious demigod heroes in that era, God cared for them very much, promised their prayers, and helped them win.Humans and gods are so harmonious, and the heroes have done so many feats, leaving behind countless stories, which are the eternal crown of glory.

What a fair and glorious race.

After that, Hesiod changed his pen and wrote with a sigh, the age I live in is the Iron Age.Man is becoming more and more mired in sin.One day, the gods will abandon humans and return to Mount Olympus.

Gone are the days of faith, and barbarians gather at the gates. --sequence

"Father, is it true what they say? Is Polydoces really the son of Zeus?"

The childish Castor half-kneeled in front of his father and the king's throne in a praying posture, shaking his knee with one hand and caressing his chin with the other.The child was evidently serious and serious about the question, even seeking an answer with the solemnity of seeking refuge.

King Tyndareus of Sparta smiled when he heard his youngest son's question, and the sacred stove fire in the hall danced, adding many dark and unclear shadow wrinkles to his smile.

He reached up and picked the boy up on his knees, kissing his hair and cheeks.He took the little head into his arms again, so that he could not see the expression on his face, and only heard the peaceful voice.

"Who told you that?"

The boy grabbed his father's clothes with both hands and lowered his eyes.

"Everyone says so."

"Yes and no. Does it make any difference to you? What makes this question so important to you? What do you really care about? Are you asking this question because you love him or hate him. Different answers, will Did it bring you any different conclusions? What kind of result do you hope for?"

Castor broke a cluster of flowers with a stick, still feeling bored.

In the end, his father Tyndarius still didn't give him a definite yes or no, but he accurately clarified the doubts in his heart.And until now, he still couldn't find the answers to those questions.

Yeah...why bother with that?

He raised his head, faced the wind and the sun, squinted his eyes and saw the figure not far away.

Polydoces.

Everyone said that Polydoces and Castor were twins, and that they had different fathers.Polydoces is the blood of the gods, and his real father is Zeus, the father of all gods.

So is this why Polydoces was so outstanding from a young age?So he can easily lift the bronze sword used by adults, draw a strong bow, his face and body seem to radiate brilliance, and is he more precocious and wise?

Even though they are twins.But Polydoces is the favorite of the gods, and Castor is only a mere mortal.His elder brother was the shining star, the center around him.And he's just dust on the edge of oblivion.Neither remembered nor blessed.

This is also very good.Castor thought that he could do whatever he wanted, without being bound by so many strict requirements and necessary training due to heavy responsibilities.

He had no ambitions, what desires could a child have.

And can you get what you want?

He couldn't help looking at the sky, the light was like copper plating, the indescribable beauty and nobility, that's where the gods were.

He looked at the sky for a long time, the confused and calm expression on his face suddenly made him look not like a child, but more like a mature adult who has learned to think.

When his neck was sore and his eyes were stung by the light and wept, he lowered his head again and squatted in the grass.

He was fascinated by the movement on the soil.A tiny worm emerged from the fallen petal and was slowly crawling.Such a small and insignificant life, which is not noticed by man and God, is silent from birth to death.And whether it dies or not may even be in his mind.

He was so focused on observing that he didn't realize that a small shadow was covering his head and face.

A pair of small and soft hands cupped his cheeks.

"Castor, what are you doing again?"

Castor raised his face and looked into the eyes of the other party, in which a small self was reflected.

"You are disturbing me."

He said dryly, taking the other's hand away from his face.

The other party didn't seem to mind his indifference at all, just smiled softly and squatted beside him.

"I'm worried about you, you don't seem very happy."

"NO, I have not."

"You seem to have cried."

"Just stung by the light."

"There is no sun now." The man stretched out his fingers to wipe away his tears, the touch was a little rough, calluses caused by long-term weapon training. "Can you tell me? Why are you unhappy?"

"I'm not upset, really." Castor pulled himself away, smiling. "In fact, I couldn't be happier right now."

He laughed suddenly, and ran away with his arms outstretched, his palms brushing the flowers and blades of grass in the field.

Polydoces looked at his back, looking a little melancholy.

"Is he still quarreling?" A pair of white and tender hands fell on Polydoces' shoulders.

"Yes." Polydoces responded casually. "But I don't know how to make him feel relieved."

"Many times words can't express it, maybe doing it actively will achieve better results. You are his twin brother, shouldn't you know him best?"

"Yes, mother." Polydoces replied, and ran in the direction where the boy was going.

The sound of the soldiers' horns was carried by the wind, and the expeditioners were returning home.

Exquisitely carved double-handled gold sacrificial cups, magnificent sterling silver mixing jars, gorgeous gold and garnet stone crowns, noble gold bracelets with two-headed snakes, piled up into mountains of luxury, at a glance, full of gems and gold and silver. Brilliant light.On the other side are beech spears with long shadows, bronze swords shining with cold light, as luxurious as the silver bow equipped by Apollo, and countless weapons.The room is full of dazzling flowers.The deft servants were still moving boxes of booty inside, and Polydoces's face was illuminated by them. They were all proofs of the glory of the brave, which is what he will get in the future.Castor also indulged in those brilliant bling.They look so alluring and wonderful.

When Castor stretched out his hand and couldn't help thinking about touching a gold plate with beautiful patterns, his hand was suddenly held.

He turned his head and saw Polydoces smiling at him, eyes full of golden light.

"Castor, we can do these things when we grow up. Together."

Castor also smiled at him, and Polydoces pulled him away, unable to see that Castor's smile was fading like a dying spark behind him.

That is your future, Polydoces.

They reached the city wall hand in hand, and saw that soldiers were still entering the city in a steady stream, driving the plundered fat cattle, and there were people who were the captives of the destroyed city-state.They will be peons and handmaidens.Some young girls, some older women, and few men, almost all died in battle or were killed.They all looked dirty and sad, like trees that have been cut down and left to die.

Castor saw a beautiful maiden, graceful as a deer, with long flowing hair.She didn't have any jewelry on her, maybe she didn't.But among the lifeless crowd of captives, she still looked proud, as dazzling as the sun, as a princess.Maybe she is indeed the real princess.The woman in front of her was older than she was, more haggard and pale, like a woman.The woman walking behind her can be called old.They all look somewhat alike, maybe her sister and mother.

As if feeling Castor's gaze, for some reason, the girl suddenly raised her head and looked at him.

The distance between them was very far away, but Castor could clearly feel the girl's expression, which was indifferent and resentful.The young Castor still couldn't understand why the girl held such deep hostility towards him, but he obviously felt that he was stabbed, so he hurriedly turned his face and looked out of the city.The happiness that was lingering in my heart just now was also diluted by this shadow.

The crowd stretched into an intermittent line and entered through the city gate, and finally it was almost over.There were fewer and fewer people, but at the end, there were more. It seemed that a small group of people was holding a two-wheeled chariot, transporting the last big box.

"Castor, guess what's in there?" Sensing that his younger brother's mood didn't seem very high, he deliberately raised his voice, talking in a curious and interesting tone.

Castor glanced at it and reluctantly responded.

"Oh, maybe a pile of blankets or something."

The valuables were almost all put into the chambers, and they were at the forefront with the king and other nobles.Then there are various supplies and slaves.Putting it at the end probably belongs to the ending of picking up the tail.

Polydoces was a little feigned to be surprised at first, although it was indeed a rather big box and seemed a bit weird.But when he moved his finger over, an inexplicable uncomfortable feeling rose in his heart.He suddenly really wanted to know what was inside.

He watched it being carried slowly to the city gate, thinking that he would find a chance to take a look at it later.But I don't know why, when the car got under the towering city gate, something went wrong, it seemed to be broken, and it stopped in place.

So he pulled his brother.

"Come on, let's go down now and see what it is."

As they ran down, they saw people opening the boxes.Because it is too tall, it is not the lid that was opened on the top, but the upright side of the box was removed.It's kind of like a door in itself.

What Polydoces didn't expect was that there was actually a person inside.

Then the man stepped out and looked at the city-state that had just arrived.

That person's hair is pure silver, and those eyes are inlaid with silver gems.His skin was bloodless, as white as ivory.The whole person is astonishingly beautiful, like a god-made, eternal and living work of art.

In his hand was a lyre.

That's a bard.The last spoils their father brought home after he robbed the city.