Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

hissed, his little hands wrenching at the edge of his tunic. "When I'm a great sorcerer, I'll turn all of them to stone!"
    Don't do that! I didn't mean to sound so harsh, but apparently it was enough to get through the kid's anger. He blinked and looked up at me.
    "Why not?"
    Because this is a terrible fate for any man, and not one I would wish on my worst enemy , I told him. You should try to be as good as you will be powerful, and not follow in your mother's footsteps.
    I worried for a second I had offended him, but then Eryx nodded. "Okay," he said shyly, obedient in exchange for the slightest hint of attention. He reminded me some of my younger siblings. I was the oldest and the only one to fall in battle, as far as I knew. I hadn't thought about them for a very long time, and sadness swept through me to do so now. I kind of enjoyed the sensation.
    It occurred to me that this kid could be useful. I mean, he was probably going to be a sorcerer someday, right? He might actually be able to unfreeze me. I couldn't remember the smell of bread or the taste of meat anymore, but I missed them with a fervency that drove me mad sometimes. I longed to feel pebbles press against the soles of my feet as I walked, and for the wind to move my hair as it streamed by me. The closest I came to sensation these days was a sense of coolness when it rained, and even then it wasn't truly the same. To get out of this, I needed Ligia's son to like me. I needed him to keep quiet about me, too.
    Listen to me, Eryx. Whenever you feel alone or sad or angry, you can come here to me. It can be a special place just for you, a secret place. You're the first person to ever hear me, and I will always listen to you. But your mother might not like it if she finds out you're talking to me.
    "I won't tell her!" he cried out. I barely refrained from cheering at his enthusiasm. "You can be my secret friend."
    It would be my privilege.
    "And you're Thanos," he repeated. "And I'm Eryx."
    I won't forget. I'd never forget this wild child—dark haired, white eyed, and completely amazing.
    He left after that, and for the first time in so long, I felt like I had something to look forward to.
    ****
    When he wasn't crying, Eryx was a pretty good kid. He was polite, even to a stone man. He was curious about everything and asked a lot of questions, most of which I didn't know the answer to. Some of it I made up, and when he caught me, he would put his hands on his hips and stomp his foot. "No lying!"
    It's not lying if neither of us knows the real answer, I replied when he called bullshit on my explanation for the wind. I thought Zeus farting up on Mount Olympus was as good a reason for wind as anything, but Eryx said it couldn't be that because it didn't smell bad enough. Then I mentioned Aeolus, who priests had identified as the god of the winds, but Eryx didn't like any of my mythological reasoning. "Teacher said that there are reasons to be discovered behind everything, that we just don't know yet. He said that every phen…phenomena has a universal form."
    What form does the wind take? I asked. Wind is simply air that moves quickly, and air is invisible.
    "But it has a form," Eryx insisted. "It must because it moves things."
    The strength to change things doesn't always have a physical form. Take me, for example. Your mother's spell changed me from flesh to stone, but I never saw the spell itself. I was simply a man one moment, a statue the next.
    "But there must be an explanation," he said stubbornly. "Not just magic."
    You tell me if you come up with something, I told him. But personally, I'm thinking it's magic. You should study it all you can. So you can get me the hades out of here.
    "I know," Eryx sighed. "But Mother is always busy with the king, and she never takes the time to show me anything."
    Keep at her, I encouraged him. Please.
    "I will. Don't worry," he said, reaching up and touching my calf. I could feel the pressure, ever so faintly, the vague heat of his little fingertips on my leg. "I won't leave you like this."
    A little guilt wound through me for putting this kind of weight onto a child, even if he was Ligia's son. I know, I said gently.
    Eryx came to see me about once a week. He was more interested in talking about philosophy and natural science than he was magic and curses, but I couldn't push him any harder and remain subtle. Honestly, it was interesting listening to him go on about Aristotle's theories versus Plato's, the different