Page 28 of Chaos and Crowns

“Be that as it may, there are certain exceptions to modesty when it comes to wilderness survival,” Odelle pointed out. “Not to mention, this is hardly my first time skinny dipping.”

“Skinny dipping?” Antony questioned, popping the button on his fly.

Odelle’s mouth had gone dry, but she refused to let Antony hear any change in her voice.

“You know, swimming naked.”

“Why would you swim with your clothes on?” Antony was now only clad in boxer briefs that left little to the imagination. Odelle was lucky that her cheeks were already rosy from the steamy water.

“Not in your clothes. You wear a bathing suit,” Odelle clarified.

Antony was now fully naked, and Odelle was reminded of the sculpture of Perseus she had seen when she visited the Metropolitan Museum, but notably missing the fig leaf. She was unsure whether that was a blessing or a curse. Then Antony plunged into the water, and Odelle could breathe again.

“I think I was born with a perfectly good bathing suit,” Antony commented as he also tried to sink as much of himself under the surface as possible.

Odelle blinked, having lost the thread of the conversation. The silence coalesced around them, thicker than the steam rising from the pool’s surface.

“What do you miss most about the time before the Defeat?” Odelle asked, uncomfortable with quiet in their current position. “Surely it’s not the bath houses.”

“No, not the bath houses,” Antony chuckled before contemplating her question. He sighed before answering.

“I guess it’s not something I miss. But I just hate feeling like I’m the only one who remembers how things used to be.” Antony’s eyes held a deep sadness—a sorrow of a type that Odelle was sure people with normal lifespans rarely experienced. It was an uncommon look on his normally smiling face.

“The other members of the Eteria, they remember too, don’t they?” Odelle yearned to dispel some of the sorrow in Antony’s eyes.

Antony scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Not quite. I’m… Well—I’m the oldest member of the Eteria, by quite a bit actually. Oldest surviving member that is,” Antony said it sheepishly, as if it were a fact he was embarrassed by. Odelle’s shock must have shown on her face because Antony continued, “Most people don’t expect that. I think because my…optimistic outlook…shall we say, makes me come off as naïve. But most of the others—Thad, Adam, Seraphina—they joined the Eteria when the Shadow was already gaining power. They barely finished their training before they were thrown into battle after battle. That’s how they remember the Eteria.”

Antony trailed off, but now that Odelle had a peek inside his head, she craved more.

“And how do you remember the Eteria?” Odelle asked.

At that, Antony smiled wistfully.

“I remember when the Eteria wasn’t always about fighting. When there was dancing every night and art and music. A lot of books, and a lot of lively discussions. I had time to make children’s toys, instead of churning out so many spears I went cross-eyed.” Antony’s tone took on a bitter edge. “Not that our devotion to the Light held the Shadow at bay indefinitely. Although fighting only granted us a pyrrhic victory.”

Nora had mentioned that art and music and celebration were all products of the Light, but all her tales of the Eteria had focused on fighting the Shadow with spears and swords. Antony’s Eteria sounded different. It sounded like a place that Odelle could have been happy.

Antony leaned back against the edge of the pool, propping himself up with his arm, revealing the tattoo of olive leaves around his upper arm. The pattern echoed the crown that had landed them in this mess.

“You really like olive leaves,” Odelle commented, nodding at his tattoo.

Antony looked down and snorted almost derisively. It didn’t sound right coming from him.

“Everybody in the Eteria gets a tattoo on their arm that signifies their commitment to the Light and represents their role. Mine is a symbol of peace.” Antony tipped his head back to rest on the stone lip, staring up at the sky. “A goal I still believe in, but it didn’t do me much good when war forced itself upon us.”

Antony’s dejected manner tugged at Odelle’s heartstrings, and she grasped at ways to comfort an age-old hurt.

“Well, there are other Healers and Smiths, right? I feel like making things and healing people are both more peaceful jobs.”

Antony snorted without humor once more.

“That’s the other thing that I’m the only person left to remember. I’m the only Smith who survived the Defeat.” Antony’s tone was flat, holding no emotion.

His voice was normally so expressive, and the lack of emotion broke Odelle’s heart more than any sadness would have.

“I’m—I’m so sorry,” Odelle murmured, once again struck by how inadequate those words were in response to all the Eteria had suffered.