Legends Unbound. (Adventure in the Trojan Saga and Try to Survive.)

Book 0: Time is All we Have

Take your time: Father won't be expecting you till nightfall. So might as well keep to the fields and hope nothing happens.
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"I told you this boy would not be like his father. He is to much of his mind in the fields, rather than combat. I say strike him down."
You walked out to the fields, ready to get to work. Your father's words echoed in your mind: laboring in the fields was the most honest endeavor a person could undertake. He believed it surpassed the fleeting glory of combat, the thrill of battle, and even the worship of the Gods.
:He is nothing, we have our players and pieces, and he has provided us with nothing but a love for farming, and being with his family. I say take it away."
To him, the gods watched a man more closely when he tilled his fields, worked the land, and prayed for a fruitful harvest. It was a simple, primal act that spoke to the essence of human existence—man at his most basic.
"He is not your child Zeus, and The Fates do not have a prophecy for him to endevor. So he should be the one you choose."
As you moved through the fields, you carefully picked the weeds and inspected the growing grain. Among the crops, you found the peculiar orange root your father had been cultivating since his youth. This root was more than just a crop; it was a symbol of his victories and the life he had built. He had won these strange roots during his exploits for Troy, which had earned him his land, his wife, and eventually his retirement. These roots, brought from the distant western colonies, were said to originate from the northern mountains, where they thrived in the harsh climate and summer snows.
"I would rather strike him down, than grant a mortal any power. I say we ignore him, and hunt his father."
Here, in your father's fields, the roots flourished. They were vibrant orange and growing large, promising a bountiful yield. Unlike the other crops, these roots required minimal care. Your father took great pride in them, enjoying the ease with which they grew. He could sit back and watch them thrive, untroubled by storms, earthquakes, or even the wrath of the Gods. The roots seemed almost magical in their resilience, a gift from the far-off lands that no one could take from him.
"His father is protected by your brother. Must you remember, and the fact his wife took off your manhood to flee to him.
In this small corner of the world, amidst these strange, steadfast roots, your father had found a peace and stability that eluded him in his younger days. As you worked the land, you felt a deep connection to this place, a sense of continuity and tradition that spanned generations. These roots, with their vibrant color and hardy nature, were a testament to your father's legacy—a legacy you were now a part of, nurturing and protecting, just as he had done before you.
"Leave the boy be than, the Fates will decide what to do with him."
And work you did, till the sun began to shine but dim on the horizon and it began to fall. Dusk was coming, and soon night would follow.
"The Fates have decided, and they see nothing."
You walked home and took your time to smell those berry pies that blew in the wind. They saved you some…

But you saw that others were at the home… nobles, with horses and chariots… and they were there with little guard, save for two men that guarded the doorway.

You recognized those men… The King's Personal Bodyguard…

King Priam was here.

As you entered, it was quiet, only The King, and his Heir, Hektor were there, instead of the entire entourage that you suspected. Both sitting and looking at the food that was prepared to eat. "Ah, he has come." the King said.

Your father was sitting at the table, but he was not at its head, as he normally would… as the King was there. You sat next to your mother, and she held your arm to steady you. "Father-" You started.

Your father gave a nod. "You have stayed late for this formality. I was going to bring him to market, and see your great city for all its splendor."

You knew that was a lie, you had been to market hundreds of times, and never once thought of it as splendorous. Only home. In some way. But it was too loud, too crowded… with too many people.

"You do not need to defend his lack of interest in my city." The King said. "Though a bit more respect for it may be warranted."

You remained silent. "But he should know why he is here? Why I demand him."

Your father only took a moment to breath in. "Tell him what you did?"

What did you do that is referring to?:

[]The Minotor escaped from a Cretan vessel. You killed it: It was trampling your crops, and you were not going to let it hurt your mother. So you ripped it's horn out and shoved it into it's skull. Sure it broke your arm, but that was a small price to pay. THe Minoian King of Crete wanted your mother back, and they really wanted to take you to see if you were blessed with Midas' golden touch.

[]Amphisbaena invaded your home and threatened your father. You and your father both killed them before they caused any major damage. It broke the stove. But you could fix it. The Gods do not like you being not bound by fate, but every time they try to kill you you defeat them, making them angrier

[]Playing with Cerberus: The Hound of the God of the Underworld was chasing your cat. You needed that cat alive to keep the mice away. So you played fetch with it… until his master's son picked him up from you. The God of Death and his court, really like you for some reason. Maybe its because you played with the Dog, instead of running away.

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