THE ORACLE OF PÉOS
2. Oὐ τὸ ζῆν περὶ πλείστου ποιητέον ἀλλὰ τὸ εὖ ζῆν
“So, how was it?” Cosmas asked as he entered the vault after the aristocrats departure.
“Interesting. Confusing. I honestly have no idea why he came here.” Spyro shrugged rubbing his eyes while Cosmas unshackled his wrist. The boy felt utterly exhausted.
“Come on, you need to sleep.”
“Yes, yes I do.” He sighed; Cosmas lead the way as they exited the Vault through another door all together. It opened to a long stone hallway. Spyro blindly followed as he’d done thousands of times before, three lefts, one right and two lefts again until they reached a slim wooden door. No insignia or adornment, just a plain slim wooden door.
An Oracle is permitted no privacy even in his most personal moments the acts have to be witnessed. Relieving himself was one of them, Cosmas had to watch while Spyro used the bathroom. He had to make sure Spyro never touched himself in a sexual way; prophetical fluid may only to be spilled in the line of duty after all.
Once finished Cosmas fitted Spyro with his chastity underwear, which caged the front and covered the back. Spyro had been stripped of the right to touch himself even in those hours in which he slept, neither was anyone else. The punishment for defiling an Oracle of Péos consisted of immediate death for both parties; a defiled Oracle was worthless after the act.
Spyro’s eyes were drooping as Cosmas slipped him in a long nightshirt it was all Spyro had the strength to do. Sleeping with this underwear wasn’t very comfortable but after so many years Spyro couldn’t really remember how sleep was without it. As Spyro fell asleep his mind fixed on the aristocrat and he dreamt of a day he’d see him without the fake beard and false image he’d presented to the order today...
Cosmas watch his ward slip into a deep sleep. He gently sat down on the young mans narrow kot and brushed his jet-black hair from his face. His skin was pale from lack of sun though his build was strong and fluid, his soft grey eyes now hidden hopefully seeing things much nicer than the Spartan room he slept in. Cosmas sighed and watched as Spyro dreamed, he watched with love and guilt and anguish. The man was silently becoming desperate.
While was Cosmas settling Spyro into his bed the aristocrat was seen to be leaving the plain little house with the wooden door with it's number 8 engraved in the grain. He proceeded along the streets of Genéve until he reached his hotel. The two unmarked cars following the aristocrat stayed out of sight, as they would do so for probably a few hours or days to come.
Inside the hotel the aristocrat nodded towards different staff members and entered the elevator riding it to the 10th floor.
He knocked on door 117 and seconds later it opened to reveal a mirror image of the Freiherr. Same beard, same build, same eyes, though this man wasn’t wearing robes or a karakul hat but a silken chamber coat with a port in one hand and the doorknob in the other.
Without a word the two Freiherrs disappeared into the room. Luckily there were no spies in the hallways at this time.
Odi immediately started stripping out for the robes, he pulled of the beard, took of the wig, the eyebrows and the fake eyelashes. He washed his hands and removed the contact lenses revealing his own shiny bright eyes.
“I take it the mission was a success?” The real Freiherr Hessenstein asks as he sits down in an armchair watching his friend.
“You have no idea!” Odi grinned as he started to resemble his normal self again. The Freiherr absorbed Odi’s words slowly, digesting them. “I was followed too, there’s an unmarked car keeping watch outside hotel.” Odi commented casually while unbuttoning his shirt
“Did they figure you out?”
“No, standard practice just checking up on you.” Odi grinned.
“You know I’ve often wondered if you weren’t ex-militairy.”
“Maybe something like that once upon a time. You know I’m no good in a strict hierarchical structure.”
The Freiherr remained silent as he watched Odi removed his disguise piece by piece. Then he noticed something he’d never seen before.
“…You’ve found him haven’t you?”
Odi turned standing half naked in the most luxurious suite the hotel had to offer. Plush carpets, teak wooden furniture, chesterfield sofa’s, antique drinks cabinet… “Yes, Otto I have.”
“Are you sure?” A nod his only reply. Odi is a very stubborn man it was a simple fact about the mand. Stubborn and loyal beyong imagination “I guess you won’t be sharing my bed anymore." The Freiherr sighed wistfully.
A soft look overtook Odi’s half demake-uped face. He crosses the room and gently sits on Otto’s lap in the armchair, bending over he places a small kiss on his lips. It was a small intimate kiss, a communication it was the last they’d share.
“No, Otto. Not anymore.”
Otto sighed heavily as Odi slid of his lap. “Ok." He relented. "Tell me all.”
“The order isn’t anything I’ve ever encountered before Otto. It scares me.” Odi shook his head his whole body shifting into a tense mode. “The security to get in is science fiction novella worthy. I’m half surprised I managed it. It’s going to be very difficult to get him out.”
“Is he pretty at least this?”
“I’ve always wondered why people always ask that, when beauty is such a personal thing. To me Otto there is none more mesmerizing but it had little to do with his looks.”
“Come on Odilon! You wouldn’t be planning the rescue plan you undoubtedly already are for a Quasimodo looking creature.”
“Don’t let your feelings leave a bitterness in your mouth Otto.” Odi chastised softly. Once he removed all of the appendage that made him a Freiherr clone he pored himself a drink and sat across from Otto. He took his time to formulate his next question. Otto should be made to understand why he was going to do what he was going to do. “When I walk into a room Otto would you say I turn heads?”
“No.” he answer came quick and swift with the speed of the axe coming down on a chopping block.
Odi smiled faintly, it’s true he wasn’t the most handsome man around by far. “But I’m sought after none-the-less?”
“Why is that you think?”
Otto didn’t reply to the question taking a sip from his port. You only had to talk to Odi for any length of time and he becomes the most interesting thing in the room. He’s bewitching in a way that creeps up on you until he’s ensnared you in his trap and then you're simply lost.
Just like now.
Otto will ago along with any plan knowing the outcome is never feeling the touch of Odi’s warm skin again. “So, if it isn’t his looks how are you so certain?”
A light behind Odi’s eyes light up, he quickly dashes to Otto’s chair against grabbing the armrests of the armchair as he grinned in Otto’s face.
“Have you ever read The Portrait of Dorian Grey?”
“Wilde?” The Freiherr shrugged. “Once upon a time.”
“I couldn’t struggle more than halfway through, it’s a style of writing that doesn’t enthrall me but the story does begin with a innocent young man you remember?”
“The one who turned into a homicidal brute.” Otto nodded
“Well yes, but that’s beside the point. My point is that he changes through a single conversation. A guest of the painter talks to Dorian, as the boy models for the portrait. The whole conversation changes Dorian, it lures him into a completely different way of thinking, changing his whole character. It’s one conversation Otto! A single conversation that changed his life! That is how this feels like.”
“One conversation and you’re beyond sure?”
“Yes. There is no doubt in my mind.” There wasn't.
“Then there is no hope for me, I guess I should go back to my wife and preform my husbandly duties for once.”
Odi snorted as he noticed the stack of newly arrived files on Otto’s desk and began to sift through them. “Not as long as you have a dick instead of a vagina you won’t. She has more lovers than you do.”
“Ha! We’re keeping the tradition of the aristocracy alive and kicking!”
Odi let his trained eyes take in all the new information at light speed. Blueprints, ancient catacomb maps, dossiers of just about every member of the order and endless surveillance photo's and footage.
“It's as if they’ve been tapping the life out of him during all those year’s he’s been there. He looks sucked dry. From our conversation I don’t think they let the oracles live beyond their usefulness.”
“Then getting your prize out isn’t the only business to take care off.”
“No it isn’t. Soon the Order of Péos will burn to the ground.” He glowered.
“I thought they were underground.”
Odi gave Otto an exasperated look. “You’re just not going to let me have my little dramatic moment are you?” He sighed and turned his attention to the open file in his hands. The picture attached to it showed the profile of the butler-handler he’s met today.
“I already know our way in.”
Cosmas Papadopoulos nodded to the two men in black who’d followed him to the club. It was his usual Friday night hangout, his one escape from the Vaults.
The signaled the bartender for the usual and planted himself down on a barstool. The place wasn’t ever overly crowed but it never lacked for customers eithers. He tried to savour his drink before turning around to scan the room. There were several good-looking bodies out tonight, yet the man that caught his eye wasn’t the most handsome in the room.
They kept eye contact for a few seconds and broke it as the man started to cross to room towards Cosmas. Cosmas turned to face the bar again.
Odi sidled up against Cosmas at the bar.
Cosmas remained staring straight ahead. “Not here” He said barely moving his lips while taking a sip of his drink. Then he turned to Odi with a sexy smile and sleepy eyes, he leaned and snuggling into Odi’s side. “There are ears everywhere. Flirt with me.” He commanded in Odi's ears.
In the same breath Odi flipped his charm switch. Anyone in the bar could see the obvious outcome of their flirty encounter. After a few drinks ordered and paid for by Cosmas as pretense would have it, they exciting the establishment.
“How much for the entire night?” Cosmas asked louder than curtsy would have warranted, although underneath Odi had been completely taken aback by the question he noticed Cosmas nod inconspicuously to two men glad in black near the entrance.
“Eight.” Odi replied.
“You have somewhere we can go?”
Odi gave him the address of the small studio he rented by the week scored from old acquaintance. Having moved out of the Otto’s room immediately as not to arouse undue suspicion.
Cosmas turned towards the waiting men. “Pick me up at dawn.”
The men retreated from sight as Odi led Cosmas to the apartment keeping up their flirty behavior all the way. Once in the building however Cosmas demeanor morphed instantly his hands dropping to his side. Inside the studio the first thing Cosmas did was close the windows and switch on some music.
“What took you so long? It’s been two weeks since the audience with Spyro I was starting to loose hope.”
Odi again attempted not to let his surprise show but respond to the rapidly changing conditions as they came along.
“I had to careful.” Was all Odi thought wise to say at the moment.
“He’s running out of time Odilon!” For the first time since Odi had seen Cosmas Papadopoulos his polished mask cracked and a hint of desperation highlighted his voice.
“How the hell do you know my name?”
“You have your ways I have mine. Don’t worry I don’t leave any tracks behind.” Cosmas waves away his question as he paced the floor of the small studio space.
“Are you sure?”
“The order watches and controls every aspect of our lives, if I hadn’t been any good at hiding my tracks I would never have survived this long.”
Odi eyed Cosmas carefully this encounter wasn’t anywhere near where Odi had expected it to go.
“The only thing I couldn’t do was contact you myself. That would have been a red flag, with a bright neon sign reading 'TRAITOR HERE'. But before anything else Odilon, I need you to tell me why you want him.” Cosmas stopped head in his tracks staring at Odi full on and confrontational.
“Why do you want Spyro? Are you going sell him? Use him as your own personal Oracle? Or what? What do you want from him? If he’ll be forced into a life that’s worse that the one he’s living I’d rather see him die.” Cosmas voice was stern and determined, Odi's answer hung in the air.
What did he want?
“I…I want to love him. I want him to love me. I don’t want anything else from him I couldn’t care less if he was an Oracle. He... He seems to be so much more than that.”
“He is.” Cosmas shoulders sagged in silent relief.
“Why doesn’t Spyro have much time left?”
“He’s been ill this week. Hasn’t been able to do his duties as an Oracle and that’s always dangerous.”
“I thought there were other Oracles besides Spyro?”
“There are but he’s struggling to reach his quota as it is. Spyro's spirit's been slipping away more and more lately. Oracles mostly don’t last past 25 in the order. Used up, all joy sapped out of their lives and at a certain point many just give up. Become worse than a ghost of their former self. Though it mostly doesn’t come to that.”
“What do you mean?” Though Odi could very well image what it meant. The vague manner in which Spyro had answered some of his questions was telling enough especially if you could listen between the lines.
“It means the order doesn’t let it get that far. They’ve already found a replacement. They get the very young Oracle to prophices the location of other Orcale. It's one of the first jobs they get the older Oracles would decieve the order to protect potential Oracle. The younger ones don't know any better. Even now the negotiations are under way.”
“The boys family is very poor and you know the situation in Greece at the moment. The order will always try to buy a new potential Oracle or trade for him in some way. If the family refuses they resort to less… diplomatic ways.
“His name is Stavros, he's from a small island in the Aegean called Ios.”
“How old Cosmas?”
“Ten... There is no way to stop it not once they’ve located a potential. They get them as young as they can, it take a lot of training a to make a good Oracle. The finest scholars school them so they can make sense of their visions. Linguestisc, sciences, mechanics they are walking talking encyclopedia and that takes time to develop.”
“What will happen to Spyro?”
“He will simply disappear one night.”
“You’d let that happen?”
“I’m trying everything I can to stop that from happening!" Cosmas all but yelled. "I’ve been arranging escapes for years but I can’t save them all. Don’t you think I’ve tried! You can’t break in so don’t even think that’s possible. I do have an idea. Sometimes clients offer to buy an Oracle they’ve grown attached to and sometimes the order will sell them.”
“So I have to offer to buy Spyro?”
“No, not Spyro, Luca. Biding for Spyro is too obvious. Bid for Luca, he’s fourteen and a very good Oracle they’ll never sell him but they’ll propose Spyro instead giving his value has dropped significantly. If they think it’s their idea it might work. There are always three Oracles at any given time. Right now there is Luca, Panos and Spyro. Panos is 18 so he’s still too virile and valuable.”
“First we need to secure Stavros. Secret him away, keep him safe. I’ll need more than just your help Cosmas.” Odi eventually said as they both stared at each other from across the small space of the room.
“You have one hour.”
The cell door slammed shut. Odi stood in the dim light of the room trying to be still his beating heart. Across from him on his little cot of a bed sat Spyro. Head down, hands in his lap clad in the white light Oracle tunic he wore last they met.
“Come to inspect your merchandise?” Spyro’s voice sounded cold and calm void of any emotion as he kept his eyes down cast.
“I heard you’ve been ill. How are you feeling?” Odi asked. He was nervous a strange emotion for Odi, he hadn’t had troubles with nerves or anxiety for years.
“I can preform.” Was Spyro’s response.
“That wasn’t my question. Spyro look at me.” But Spyro did not look up. “Look at me Spyro please.”
When he finally did lift his eyes from his hands they revealed little. For a moment Odi thought he saw a frown but quickly disappeared.
“What is it you want from me?”
“Nothing Spyro. I want nothing of you.”
Nothing he says? He wants nothing of me? Spyro glowered as he regarded the man in front of him. Had he been a client?
However much Spyro tried to remember, this man seemed a complete stranger to him. Everything was alien to Spyro his build, his eyes, his hair… Though it happened many times that he never saw the clients he serviced or heard their voices. If this man had been a client what had his question been? You can tell a lot from the question people ask an oracle.
Is it wise to accept the truce with…
Will this treaty be as beneficial as it claims for us?
How do we defeat…
Will my son’s firstborn be male of female?
What had this man asked?
“Have we met before?”
“Yes, we have but I looked quite different that time.”
A second. It took Spyro one second the make the connection. A split of that second was complete confusion, the other split was an audible click in Spyro's brain he's been thinking of little else for weeks since the 'aristocrates' audience. His eyes bulged and his jaw dropped.
“I guess you do remember.”
Not a sound.
He didn’t utter a single sound.
Just stared at Odi, silently.
“I imagine you have a thousand questions right now...” Odi’s voice was soft as he took a step closer to the Spyro’s kot. Nothing could be father from the truth, not a single question surfaced in Spyro’s mind. Not a single one. A million thoughts and feeling whirled in chaos but none articulate enough to form into a sentence.
Odi took another step closer kneeling onto the ground in front of Spyro’s feet.
“Why did you buy me?” Spyro finally managed to ask.
“It’s the only way I could get my foot in the door. I don’t want to own you Spyro.”
Spyro scoffed. That was very hard to believe, whomever it was that claimed it. “I’ve been a possession most of my life.”
“True, but once upon a time you weren’t. Once you were just a boy.”
“I haven’t been anything in a long time especially not a boy. I’m hardly even an Oracle now.”
Odi pressed on, Cosmas had been a vat of information. “Once you lived by the ocean, you’re mother had a house near the beach. Do you remember?”
Of course I remember it was the last time I saw the sun. His mother died suddenly and soon after he was brought here. To never leave again.
“Why do you want me? You can say all the nice words you want. I’ve been told many of those before. People always want something from me. What do you want from me? Don’t say nothing, nothing isn’t a value I can estimate. I don’t even know your real name.” He gritted his teeth the resurrection of painful memories he’s long since tried to forget prodding his psych had Spyro wound so tight his veins might break with the strain.
“Odilon.” He took a deep breath. “Odilon Vermits.”
“Like the painter?”
“Yes, like the painter. “ Odi nodded slightly amazed he knew the artist
“I’m not a fan of his works.”
“Neither am I.” Odi grinned. “Look. It isn’t a question what you can give me Spyro or what I can take from you. It’s about what I want to give you.”
“And what’s that?” Spyro breathed, he was in no way convinced by Odilon’s words but maybe just maybe he’d see where this was heading. Not that he had much of a chose in the matter.
“A life outside these walls….” Odi placed his hand on Spyro’s knee making the boy gasp at the touch. No one touched him not even Cosmas, not even in the most innocent of ways. Only during a prophecy were hands laid on him but it had long since turned into a mechanical motion. It was never a touch of kindness or one filled with emotion. It was an act to preform a job and that’s all it was.
Not this touch.
Not this warm hand lightly resting on his knee.
Not this man.
“But…Why?” Spyro leaned down bringing his face closer to Odi’s, he tried to hold on to his reserve. He tried to hold strong but that one touch crumbled most of his shell. It frightened him. No it terrified him. His body may be battered for and sold at will and not his own at that. His spirit and heart however belonged to no one other than himself.
Odi steady gaze met Spyro’s full on, “Why not?” he whispered reaching up slowly pressing their lips together.
The second those lips touched Spyro released the tension he held inside even as he tried to hold on. What if this was a trap or a prelude to something worse. He’d never felt a kiss like this before. Only once had he even kissed another at all, so long ago a stolen kiss in a stolen moment with another Oracle just before he disappeared.
This was something else entirely. It wasn’t just the pressing of lips together; it wasn’t just the feel of someone else so close to you, in your personal space and wanting them there. It was the emotion Odi poured into it, the feelings and desire mixed within it. Already he wasn’t taking from Spyro he was giving.
The gift of a kiss.
For once Spyro was the taking party, pressing harder against Odi’s lips, unconsciously grabbing his neck and pulling him closer up between his knees. He felt Odi’s hands very gently slide up his leg and under his tunic. As the hand reached the naked flesh of his stomach, Spyro smelted even more into the kiss. Feeling the warm fingers and warm palm of Odi’s hand resting on his waist kneading him affectionately. Spyro opened his lips, an almost automatic responds so his tongue could take more of Odi in.
Spyro coed softly as Odi’s hands gently caressed his torso. Their kiss broke as Spyro gasped for air, heat, desire, confusion and wonder all visible in his features as he tried to lift some truth from Odi’s returning stare. Odi swiftly dropped his hands to Spyro waist pulling him from his position on his kot to the floor bringing them both to eye level.
Spyro’s chest heaved, his lips parted and his hair disheveled. To Odi it was the look in his eyes that make him weak. He’s been sure before but right now he knew without a shadow of a doubt it was Spyro he’s been searching for.
“We’ll have more time later I promise but right now there is one thing you need to do.” Odi said as he very gently opened Spyro’s loose white pants.
Spyro’s chastity underwear had been removed right before Odi had entered his cell. His penis lay plumped up and growing fast for him to see. Making a point to stare into Spyro’s eyes he touched it. Caressing it lovingly.
He took Spyro’s hand and placed it on the boys penis, he wrapped his fingers around the hardening member using his own hand to keep Spyro’s in place.
Spyro broke the intense stare to look down; the sight of their two hands wrapped around his instrument as he’d been taught to call it mesmerized him. Sensations he normally didn’t experience broke out inside him. His heart speed up and his breath grew deeper.
To touch himself... To touch himself and dream.
Odi noticed Spyro’s other hand automatically clutch his ankle and his body tense switching into Oracle mode as he moved both their hands to stroke him; long fluid movements with a roll of the wrist in just the right places and at the right times…
He quickly moved to grab Spyro’s hand pulling it from his ankle and placing it on his own neck right under his ears.
“No." He breathed their forehead a breath apart while he felt and witnessed Spyro take pleasure. "Touch me. Feel me.” Spyro’s body trembled his eyes flittered shut. It was a sexy, sweaty breathless experience where the air between them heated and enclosed the two men. All Spyro could feel was Odi, his skin, his warmth and his hand on his own urging him to gratify himself. It was almost a moment of surrender, surrendering to take control.
“Kiss me.” Odi whispered and Spyro instantly pulled Odi to him as he clutched his neck. Moaning into his mouth at the multitude of sensations coursing through him, drinking Odi in. The warmth of his groin spreading through his hand up his chest, tingling his lips as his nails dig into Odi’s neck.
It was all too much. It was all too much as his body started to convulse his orgasm imminent. Spyro speed up the stroking of their hands. He’d been taught to be quiet as he came as not to startle his clients but his voice involuntarily broke out as he gasped and grunted as his thunderous climax started.
As the first volley escaped Spyro was once more overwhelmed with shock and surprised as Odi immediately plunged down taking all of Spyro into his mouth.
“Oh.” Spyro gasped. “Oh, Odi!” Clutching at Odi’s head as the man took every single drop. It imploded his climax reaching far deeper inside of him than any other before. The extraordinary sensation rippling through his body making his stomach spasm long after the last volley erupted.
After a while the breathing in the small cell returned to a level of normalcy. Odi lifted his head seeing tears brimming in Spyro’s eyes. Even Odi's eyes weren't dry, though hadn't climaxed himself he'd felt everything Spyro had as if he as riding the tidal wave along with him.
“You dr-drank it...” He uttered lips trembling. That simple act alone was as mind-blowing to Spyro as his own touch had been. Odi pushed Spyro’s sweaty hear from his brow cupping his face in the same movement.
“You asked me what I wanted Spyro. The truth is I want to be yours.”
“It’s all I want Spyro, an us outside these walls if you'll have me.” Spyro’s answer was to reach for Odi and pull him into a hug. Getting this man as close as he could sobbing onto his shoulder. The release of emotion wracking through his frame.
That’s how they sat on the stone floor of the Spyro’s Spartan cell. Odi stroking Spyro’s back as his sobs dissipated and he calmed down. It’s how they sat until a banging on the door broke their silent moment.
“Spyro, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” He lifted the young mans head to look straight in his eyes. “I need you to follow me no matter what happens.”
Spyro nodded as they picked themselves up from the floor. He rearranged his clothes and stood beside Odi at he door. Feeling Odi’s hand slip into his he looked down and although with every thing that had happened in this small hour alone this shouldn’t have moved him. However, it did.
“Don’t let go of my hand.” Odi implored squeezing it for good measure. “…And when I say run.”
“We run.” Spyro reply his voice steady and eyes focused.
The cell door opened and....
- Sorry this took so long to post guys, part three and final episode won't take so long I promise!
All and any feedback is welcomed, comment and/or email me.
This is a piece of fiction. My piece of fiction which may not be borrowed, altered, taken or copied without my explicit permission. These stories are registered under my name.