1 Son of Sparta

When the boy was born, like all Spartans he was inspected, if he'd been small or puny or sickly or misshapen... He would have been discarded. A head full of blonde hair, a strong grip, much stronger than a boy twice his age, and a glare that spoke death. His parents knew he would one day be a fierce warrior for Sparta.

Thunder flashed in the skies above. The ground below trembled with his cries, and the oceans tide raged with Poseidon's fury. Timaeus, the first son of the sea, was born.

From the time he could stand at merely a week old, he was baptized in the fire of combat. He trained his body from a young age, something not many do. From the time he was only two and walk and talk he had trained. Push-ups. Sit-ups. No moment was wasted each moment each breath was like fire to the boy. He truly was destined for greatness.

" AHHH!" He swings his sword with ferocity and anger. His blade misses and he is backhanded by his father. He does not cry or shout in pain. he does not fall. He raises his blade and tries again.

He does not retreat. Nor does he surrender.

He is taught that death in battle for Sparta is the greatest glory he could achieve in his life.

He looks upon his father and his shield with pride but does not smile. He does not show his emotions to anyone... Other than his mother. To the only woman in his life. That is his gift.

At age seven, as is custom, the boy is taken from his mother and plunged into a world of violence. Manufactured by 300 hundred years of spartan warrior society. To create the finest soldiers the world has ever known. The Agoge, as it's called, forces the boy to fight. To steal. And if necessary to kill.

The boy was different. When he fought, he battered his opponents ruthlessly. When he stole, he did so blatantly, uncaring for who saw him. For who caught him. In Sparta the punishment for such a crime is Flogging. The boy is tied to a post and beaten with a stick repeatedly until his flesh breaks. But he does not cry, he does waiver in his strength. No, this punishment only further served to boost his power. The boy grits his teeth, hard. Each strike against his back angering him further, until finally, by the shock and surprise of all of Sparta, the boy's arms crush the post in his grip.

" AHHHHHH!" His roar is loud and thunderous. But not of pain. Of anger. He breaks free from his imprisonment and faces his warden. And attacks.

The Spartan is caught off-guard by the boy's strength. Unparalleled by most. The boy slams his fist into the Spartan's jaw. Forcing him to the ground. He is best upon by more Spartans. They grab the boy. He is punished in a different way. Stripped of his clothing and forced into the wild. Orders from the King himself. Fourteen days. Two weeks. He is to survive alone and unaided for this long.

The boy does not cry or fear his punishment. Instead, he nods and walks. Before he leaves, he points to one of the young daughters of Sparta. Her skin a beautiful bronze shade, her eyes bluer than any ocean and her hair black. Hippolyta is her name.

" I will return from this challenge." He spoke. His voice full of authority and power. Yet soft and elegant. "And I will make you, my bride." He decrees. The girl's father draws his sword and the girl's mother smiles. The girl herself is impressed. The boy has shown strength only expected from a full Spartan man. He has promise. With his declaration finished, Timaeus walks away from the village on his own and ventures out into the world. To be the best Spartan he can be. That is his goal. To serve Sparta that is his dream. And he will see it through, no matter the cost.

For Fourteen long days, he thrives. He kills, man and beast alike. He does not turn his back to an enemy, no matter how many they stand.

The Lion stalks the boy, from afar. But he is not as stealthy as he believes. Eyes as white as a star. Teeth as sharp as Poseidon's trident. Claws like iron. Fur as golden as Zeus's thunder.

The boy faces the beast. His spear ready. It is not fear that gripes him. Only a heightened sense of things. The cold air in his lungs. The freezing snow on his body.

Timaeus grips his spear, heavily. His hands strong. His stance firm. He waits his prey.

The beast charges, Maine flaring, and Teeth bared.

Timaeus meets the beast head on, and in one swift motion, jams his spear into the beast's gullet and splits him open. Cut in twain, the beast bleeds out. Timaeus has won.

He takes his spoils of war. The teeth ripped from the beasts' jaws. His skin removed and turned into a cape.

The time has finally arrived for the boy to return home. To us. A SPARTAN TIMAEUS!

" AWHOO! AWHOO! AWHOO!"

Unprecedented. The Spartan King awaits the boy's return, along with his son, the Newly returned LEONIDAS. OUR KING LEONIDAS!

" AWHOO! AWHOO! AWHOO!"

The boy kneels to his king, the prize of his victory wrapped around his body.

The king nods and demands the boy stand before his son, Leonidas, and orders him to bow.

The boy does not. Instead, he removes his pelt and strikes Leonidas, hard and fast. Leonidas returns the blow. The fight has begun.

Leonidas, and Timaeus, battled each other for four long hours. The sands of Sparta soaked in their blood. Neither wants to submit. Timaeus refuses to serve a week king. Leonidas refuses to bend a knee to anyone in battle.

All of Sparta watches this battle with intent. Would our king fall to one of his subjects or would the king be worthy? That is what most thought.

Upon the fourth and final hour, the battle ends. In a bold move, Leonidas manages to discard Timaeus' spear and forces his own blade towards the boy's throat.

" YIELD!" Leonidas demands.

The fight hasn't left the boy's eyes. No, but it is replaced by something else. Respect. " I swear to serve as your spear until the end of my life. I accept you Leonidas as my king." The boy spoke. He does not bow his head. he bows to no one. But instead, he reaches out his hand.

" And I shall serve as your king until the end of my life. My friend." The fight is over. All of Sparta rejoices.

Timaeus has lost, but in lost he has gained a victory no other shall share. He stands to his feet, blood and sweat trickling from every part of his body. He marches to his goal, his destiny, his future wife, Hippolyta. There he stands before her, his pelt in one hand and in the other a necklace adorned by the beasts' large teeth. She accepts these gifts with pride and Timaeus snatches her from her home.

" If any of you feel brave enough to take her from me. Then by all means try. But know that no matter who you are. be her friend, her mother, or her father. I will kill you." The boy's threat is bold and his attitude cold and ruthless.

The father once ready to kill the boy, grins, and stands aside. All of Sparta relents.

In time Leonidas and Timaeus grow, they train together and in time along with Artemis, they fight together. Their names become synonymous with victory.

The Left arm and Shield of Sparta: Captain Artemis.

The Right arm and sword of Sparta: Captain Timaeus.

" The head and king of all of Sparta: Leonidas.

Now the time has come to put their legendary names to the test, as a foe unlike any before approaches. His armies massive. His name feared in nearly every corner of the world, except in Sparta, Xerxes.