Prologue

Christos' eyes open quickly. Sounds reverberate throughout his quarters. He is only seven years old. His shining blonde hair is not a trait of his mother or his father, but said to be a gift of the gods. His room is truncated by two small walls, which lead into the main room. He is the eldest of two brothers and two sisters, his parents are nothing more than humble blacksmiths.

Jessamine and Isadora were his sisters; Jessamine being the eldest out of the girls, only a year behind Christos himself. Isadore had just turned four within the past day.

Christos' brothers are another matter entirely; Demetrius and Oscar. Demetrius has dark hair and foreboding gray eyes. He seems to use his smile to mask his pain, even at his age. He's only two years younger than Christos, but he's already as tall as he is now. Oscar is only two, and he mostly just sleeps in Isadora and Jessamine's quarters.

"Surely it can't be sunrise already?" Christos thinks to himself, silently.

Christos looks around him in disarray, the sun outside had not yet risen.

"Why is it then these sounds disturb my sleep?" He quietly wonders.

He rises quickly out of his shambled rest and peers out of his home, and a bright light glows in the distance. What could be the cause? Christos' humble home of Troy had never been the kind of city to throw expansive celebrations unless they were praising the Upper Ones, and the last time he remembers, no celebrations were cast past the set of the sun.

Christos squints his eyes closely on the glowing lights outside, and after his eyes adjust to the light, he realizes they are not glowing lights at all, but burning buildings!

His town is on fire!

Christos looks around for the source of the chaos, and then he sees it; the gargantuan wooden horse that his city had brought in without question. It had been the offering towards Pallas Athena as a sign of the Greek's sacrifice of the holy war.

Christos had always had some skepticism in the most random of offerings. He'd read that the Greek armadas had been never one to simply give up a fight; especially when they'd nearly taken over Troy on several occasions. His highness, King Priam, kept to his foolish pride and ordered the soldiers to bring the horse into the city at once.

Christos had also heard that the King had found a Greek straggler by the name of Sinon who had been almost sacrificed at the hands of his fellow comrades for Pallas Athena.

Christos doesn't believe a word of it, but he doesn't want to end up like Laocoön had. The poor fellow was snatched up by a sea serpent because he had tried to convince the others that the horse might have been a trap.

Just then, a scream erupts from the back room.

Jessamine's quarters!

Christos grabs his wooden play sword from its makeshift sheathe on his floor and runs through the pitch black hallway.

He hadn't ever held a real sword, so he doesn't really know how to properly fight with it. He's half hoping that it was just some rat or other vermin that had scared Jessamine awake, but in his heart he knows it to not be true.

Christos' courage quickly fades as he reaches the end of the hallway and he sees his father lying on the ground, a fatal wound to the head.

He nearly shrieks, and runs over towards his father.

Christos takes the man's head in both of his shaking little hands and opens his eyes. They're a shimmering blue, but they're also lifeless.

"F-Father," are the first words that Christos mutters that morning.

There is another scream, and Christos keeps on moving. He makes it to the small door which houses Jessamine and Isadora. He opens the wooden door quickly, and he sees a large man standing over the beds of his sisters. The man is easily taller than his father, and he's clad entirely in Greek armor. Christos drops the wooden sword beside him and stares out in terror.

He sees the body of his younger brother Oscar lying at the foot of the armored man. His neck had been snapped, and his blue eyes seem to want to cry out in agony.

"What did you do to Oscar?!" Christos yells out without thinking.

The man in armor turns around, blood coats the golden plating of the Spartan Armor. Christos sees that it is the straggler they'd found out by the wooden horse standing before him.

It is Sinon.

He laughs a hearty laugh and unsheathes his sword.

"My, your…brother, was it? Was a little bit of a nuisance, child. All we're trying to do is a little…recruiting. You're brother was a little uncooperative," Sinon says, glaring.

"You killed my father and my brother!" Christos yells, his high pitched voice falters.

"Now, now. Why don't you come join the winning side? It's much more rewarding than burning with your city," Sinon says.

"I would never join the Greeks in battle!"

"My, what a feisty attitude, how about a deal, then? You come along with me, and I'll leave your family…or what's left of it, alive," Sinon says.

"What's in it for you to make a deal with me? Wouldn't it be easier to just take whoever you want? That is the Greek way, anyway," Christos replies.

"My, you're intelligent for your age as well. Yes, that would be the easier option now, but what would that say down the line? A willing recruit is always easier to an unwilling one," Sinon says.

Christos looks at the body of his dead brother, and his father enters his thoughts.

"You promise you'll leave my family alone?" Christos asks.

"I swear on my life I will not touch them," Sinon says.

"And your men, they will not come near this house," Christos says.

"My, a small boy giving me orders? How unusual, considering I'm the one with the sword," Sinon says.

Christos only returns him with a hard look that betrays his age.

"Heh, fine! You've certainly got potential, might I say that we could certainly use more brats like you in our army!" Sinon says, grinning.

He walks over and rushes Christos in one fell movement and swings him over his shoulder. In that moment Christos's head is flung around like a ragdoll, and his vision rests on the two beds that had been behind Sinon. In them he sees the two corpses of his sisters, their arms folded while blood blossoms from their chest.

Christos' eyes go wide and he begins screaming. He kicks and flails in the large man's arms, but Sinon doesn't flinch. He only laughs as he carries Christos out of his home. One moment before he leaves the sight forever, Sinon takes a nearby hanging torch and sets the wooden floor aflame.

Christos screams out, "No! You promised! YOU PROMISED!"
Christos watches as Sinon walks away, Christos still in tow as the building he called home, and as his city which he called his own burns to the ground.

Troy has fallen.