The Children // ASSASSINS CREED ODYSSEY // DEIMOS

C18: The Fabrication

"Eos".

Akin was just as big as she remembered him to be, maybe even bigger.

Except, that gentle face that would set him apart from all those brutish mercenaries you'd find on the roads of Greece - was aged, gaunt, his eyes left in shadow, his hair – which had been longer than Deimos' once – shaved and, the stubble on his chin left to grow in to some sort of raggedy brush.

If it wasn't for the lycaon next to him, Eos could easily have mistaken him for someone else.

A pattern that didn't seem to be slowing down.

Before Eos could say a word, Akin embraced her in one of those hugs he was always so good at, one that would envelope your whole body and fill you with the scent of sweat, steal and grease but, he squeezed that little too hard and, Eos felt like it wasn't because he was overjoyed to see her but, more as if he was in the midst of saying a goodbye...

But, other than that feeling, he showed no sign of wanting her gone and, Laelaps – who she'd glanced out the corner of her eye – had wagged his tail – whatever was up with Akin, it wasn't because he was being followed by anything unruly and, wasn't because he was about to kill her with some hidden blade.

Akin held her out in front of him, inspecting her, his large hands on her shoulders. He squeezed them, made her flinch but, he didn't care to notice.

"How" he said, he had not been able to fathom the lycaon stood in front of him but Eos… he wasn't sure she was truly there, no matter how real she felt. Eos put a hand on his, squeezing it weakly back,

"It is a long story" Eos gave him a small smile, her chin starting to quiver just at the thought of having to tell him. Akin put his arm around her, guiding her through the darkened streets,

"Come with me. Let us get out of view" Akin said, "I want to know everything".

Near to Melos' temple, a building, separated in to a few small homes, lay the house Akin resided in.

Which, just so happened to be the house the cult had used for both their fighters and their champions in the years before. It looked to be abandoned now though, the only thing which seemed to truly belong were some old mattresses that lay on the floor, a desk with Akins meagre bag of things atop of it and, a dusty old chest that was cracked open.

It was small, empty and… a little unsettling.

Akin always used to fill his corners with so many things. Not expensive things, just little things that he would find on his travels. Shells, rocks, fragments of old pottery – he'd even had this prized bull horn that he'd carry around with him everywhere - which she quickly realised was no where in sight.

They were the things that a mercenary did not need but, still. It didn't feel right. And, from what little he told her of the place, he'd been here for a little while and, still hadn't acquired much at all. Akin used to pick up rocks randomly and put them in his pockets.

His pockets were all empty.

"I have spent many days training" Akin told her, "On Hydrea island" he pulled out some apples from his bag, tossing her one before looking down at Laelaps. He'd sighed at the lycaons terrifying puppy eyes and then, dug deeper in to his bag and pulled out a piece of dried meat.