Not two seconds. Everything happened within that limit from the moment Rhene understood the incomprehensible pair of fearless rider and monstrous mount targeted them. The road rumbled from each heavy step, pebbles bouncing like hot grease stinging her ankles. Rhene welcomed the pain to punish her idiocy. Maia’s wisdom was truth itself. How could Rhene have dared believe a falling star, an omen of existence itself crumbling, was good? Hooves wide as the trunk of young trees were to trample them. The dream last night had ended with such frightening finality, and Rhene was a fool to have not heeded the warning. 

Perdix whipped his sword free. His heels shone red where the straps met skin from weeks of arduous traveling, yet he ignored the burn to dig them hard in a stalwart stance. Rhene wished he wouldn’t. No matter how prodigal his skills, Perdix was no match for their foes. Dodging might permit him the chance to reposition and prepare for the next move, yet Perdix remained. He sought to defend her and Cilissa despite how common sense dictated his life enduring, even if it was the only one, to continue their father’s line was infinitely more important. Perdix chose the sacrifice without hesitation. 

Shouldn’t she do something as well? Shouldn’t she at least try? Perhaps grabbing Cilissa and dodging themselves could allow Perdix the freedom to avoid bludgeoning hooves. Rhene’s pale hand sought her sister’s chiton. She didn’t so much as touch the fabric. Ears pricked from a foreboding whistle, more distant than the sun yet ethereally ever-present as the warmth of its rays. Wind. Perdix shouted. Cilissa screamed. Dust gave form to the spiral of shrill wind erupting from the slam of the kri-kri's next step. Forward the spiral lunged. Rhene helplessly watched Perdix and Cilissa lose their footing—and Perdix his sword—and find themselves mere feathers in a storm from the unnatural force blustering them several feet off the ground. 

Then they were off to the side. The consuming wind deposited the pair on the other side of the street with the gentleness of a mother setting her child down for sleep. Rhene blinked slowly. Nothing made sense. Perdix locked his desperate blue eyes on her right as she realized that she remained. No wind so much as fluttered her clothes. Rhene shifted her focus back to the kri-kri and its rider. The man twisted his hand around a fistful of coat, powerful legs pressing hard upon the kri-kri's side to drop himself low with his right arm outstretched. Rhene caught more of his features then. Black hair and brown eyes trained on nothing but her. 

A solid whoomf collided his arm with her stomach. A potent impact, yet it didn’t hurt in the way Rhene expected. Light and weightless her body became when, as if with solid ground under his feet, the black-haired man pushed off nothing, thrust them upwards, and dropped them upon the back of the kri-kri that’d lost no speed. Rhene struggling to steady her whirlwind vision gave the man the easy chance to resume his mounted position and straddle her in front of him. Rhene easily envisioned the fit her mother would enter should she see her with her legs open like so. 

“RHENE!” 

Perdix’s distraught, breaking cry returned her attention to the gravity of the situation. A monstrous goat wielding the power of wind sped her east with a mysterious man in clothes of red and black trapping her upon it. Not that Rhene entertained thoughts of fighting for freedom. She’d splatter upon landing, and the kri-kri leapt anyway. The length of estates covered in three strides, she could only pray the coiling of its hindquarters sprung it with enough push to see them over the oikos at the end of the road. Perdix shouted after her a second time before distance silenced his voice. The kri-kri jumped. Rhene’s stomach dropped. 

They did not land. 

Simmering summer wind blustered over her cheeks. It droned in her ears. It snuck within her mind, numbing her senses and muffling the sound of her own shriek. One dizzying glance down nearly sent her to darkness. Again and again the kri-kri pushed, lunged, and climbed, curving their direction west towards the mountains instead of east towards the sea. It rode nothing but the air itself. The sprawling port city of Irideska became little more than a boy’s play bricks positioned for him to send his soldier figurines through. Even the two grand temples—one to Aphrixus and one to Iridescia—were less than the size of the forgotten box of paints. 

Within a minute, the city was out of sight. Rhene could have seen it should she crane to look, but every muscle in her body turned to stone. Her hands, now pure white, clung to the hair on the kri-kri's neck. Head dipped and shoulders slumped, it was all she could do to push away the blotches of black in the corners of her vision. Rhene tried to close her eyes, but it merely beckoned the forced sleep faster. The world an impossible distance below blurred into an unpleasing mess of hue like the times Cilissa gooped her paints together in childish tantrums. 

The kri-kri rode smoothly. Even during its most vigorous movements, Rhene didn’t bounce or jostle. It persisted at blistering pace for another long minute before its strides evened out, each one the bob of a gentle lapping of water. The wind caught it at the height of every kick forward to glide them onward with a gait stealing her further and further away from a city she’d never left. 

The man didn’t speak. A mere mortal or something more, he, too, simply held fast and let himself be carried. Rhene couldn’t track the distance. Her world consisted of her home, the several streets nearby, and the main roads guiding her to the ocean that she’d traverse no more than five times a year. Her father and Perdix spoke of miles, of the roads winding throughout the hills, of far horizons. They traced their fingers upon maps and described the wonders between. In less than an hour’s time, the kri-kri bounded over the western mountains it took more than a day on foot to reach. 

Hours passed. Those were difficult to determine too given how they raced to stay steady with the sun on its descent, but Rhene felt the passage of time deep in her core. To be grateful or not when the kri-kri finally started its descent exhausted her already weary mind and body. Night’s first stretching shadows dimmed their surroundings when within a forest of spindly trees, low bushes, and dry grass the kri-kri landed. Her back straightened with thankful relief as the man dropped the significant distance to the ground without issue. It then dawned on her numb mind that she was alone on the beastly creature and that, though the past hours hazed her like a dream, the situation before her was no illusion from which she could escape. 

Slowly and tenderly, the kri-kri tucked its legs under its body to allow Rhene down. Even its enormous size created no drop of any significance when lounging so, yet she still proceeded to collapse clumsily as if she’d never taken a single step in her life. However, Rhene preferred the cool security of shaded dirt and so remained as she was. The kri-kri took care to avoid her in its clambering back to its feet. The man walked around Rhene to pat its neck. 

“Thank you for your help,” his voice was deep with lazy enunciation, but innate confidence rang that he was no uneducated fool. “Go on now.” 

Rhene timidly shifted enough to see the kri-kri dip its head in acknowledgment. Her tenuous grip on sanity loosened more as the creature shrunk with each of its departing steps to the appearance of a normal one of its kind before disappearing into the underbrush. 

The cohort steed was gone. The kidnapper stayed. 

Prickled grass crunched under his leather boots. He stood behind her, forcing cold sweat on her back. Rhene was empty. What vigor her cloistered body held was gone. Disconcerting void ran through her veins in place of blood. Her breaths burned, but her fingers pitifully gripping the grass desperate for solace felt nothing. Several more crunches. The man stood before her. He knelt down. 

“Take your moment.” 

Sight swarming then steadying as her stare flicked up, Rhene properly saw him. The man, older than Perdix by several years, radiated strength and might. Honed muscles bulged from each small movement. Although he carried no sword, familiar callouses like those on her father and brother’s palms signified experience with such a weapon. That hair, dark as night, was thick, coarse, and brushed upon his head in the slightest of waves. Rhene could see the indentations from where a helmet would frequently rest. His brown eyes shone like amber in the lowering beams of light from under a sturdy brow. He kept his facial hair trimmed neatly. 

Rhene breathed. Breathed and breathed again. The bit of eye contact she made before her courage mustered by curiosity fled bestowed an image lacking malice. Though not sympathetic in the way she knew her father and brother to be, patience tempered the man’s aura. Steadily, through much effort, her rapidly convulsing lungs found a more regular tempo. 

“I’m Orius, son of Aetion,” the man introduced. 

Rhene’s lips parted. No sound came out. 

“If it is too difficult to decide a response, simply tell me the first thought that appears within your mind,” Orius instructed. 

“I...” Rhene squeaked. “I think of my mater. Of the stories she would tell of myths and legends and great heroes. Of how I was drawn to the ones where the women rose to impressive heights, performed impressive deeds despite the trials in their way. How I wished to be one of them. Now I wish I was at home with Mater away from the mysteries of a flying goat and a strange man stealing me from my home to the distant unknown.” 

“We have long crossed the border out of Astagoria. We are in Samatis, by the town of Tylasus, although I suspect the town’s name means little to you.” 

Rhene hadn’t simply left her city. She’d left her kingdom. If Orius was a native of Samatis, his more rugged and toned stature made sense. Samatis trained their warriors hard from childhood. 

“Furthermore,” Orius continued, “though I may be unfamiliar to you, I am no stranger.” 

“No?” Rhene frowned. She’d rarely left the house. Meeting a man from Samatis most certainly hadn’t happened. 

“I am your brother.” 

The meeting of their eyes was more determined this time. Rhene searched Orius’s face. Her brother? That couldn’t be. She would look at him and find nothing similar, but...the longer she looked the more she saw the bits and pieces that were. Rhene’s mind whirred. 

“Then...before Pater married Mater...?” 

“No,” Orius shook his head before exasperation entered his voice. “Did I not just introduce myself as the son of Aetion?” 

“I-I thought...maybe an adoptive...” Rhene whispered, losing her words as her cheeks burned. 

“Aetion is my pater of blood.” 

How then? As was tradition, there was a significant difference in age between her father and mother. Rhene’s mother, as opposed to herself, had been married off not long after her monthly bleeds began. Would it truly have been possible for her to have secreted a child some five or so years earlier? It made no sense. Rhene’s bewilderment and growing sense of distress curled her harder upon the ground. 

“It is too much right now, I know. I won’t say more to confuse you further. Just know that I brought you here for good reason. I intend to see you safely to Pater’s home, and I will explain our situation when you are ready. Can you get off the ground?” 

Rhene gritted her teeth. At least for now, Orius showed no signs of wishing her harm. If he truly was her brother, he was likely to not have any at all. She needed to put her faith in her family coming to find her. They were simply far apart. The distance could be traveled. Still, Rhene stumbled heavily and required Orius’s arm for assistance in finding her footing. Her hair was a wild mess with stains all over her new chiton of pink and white. 

“I have a companion who should be meeting us at the bottom of the hill. He’ll assist me in escorting you to Pater. We’ll rest in Tylasus for the night,” Orius explained. He took several steps. Rhene hesitated to follow, casting a glance to the bush. 

“W-What was that...that...” 

“A unique acquaintance I know who I requested to help me with your extraction,” Orius shrugged. “Don’t mind it. It’ll be the only time you meet. Now, come.” 

The command jolted a rush of energy past the exhaustion. Despite the situation, as she’d done all her life...Rhene obeyed.