Chapter Text
Pain.
The world needed it to continue spinning.
There was no life without pain and there was no pain without life.
So, imagine Her surprise when those laws were turned back on Her.
Another day, Apollo wept. His child, his beautiful, wonderful child. They left him behind. He didn’t even get to name this one, it just another whisper in the winds of time, never finding their way back home to him. Aphrodite and Artemis were beside him, holding his shoulders while his shivering body racked with sobs. Aphrodite’s delicate fingers carded through his feathers while Artemis whispered comfort to him. But still, he wept.
It hurt.
It hurt so badly.
Aphrodite screamed, her child died before they even had the chance to breathe. She searched, searched their entire little body to see, to see what went wrong, only to find it was a heart. Her children all lacked a heart, no matter who she bore them with, how ironic. The curse gave her special treatment, making it so she could only give love to those she did not know, never her own, not even her own children.
And when she looked up, at her beautiful Daphne, another screech escaped her mouth. For how, how could she have allowed a woman such as Daphne take the backlash of the curse in her stead. She was smiling, tears forming in her eyes as pain overtook her, but still smiling the calm and gentle thing that made Aphrodite love her. She bled to death from her life-giving organ the same day their child died.
Each death felt like a punch, both physically and mentally. The Fates’ tapestry was being ripped to shreds, cutting the First Mother from all sides. She couldn’t let this continue. Ananke stood by Her side, face twisted with worry.
Ares threw his spear at a wall, the first of many to be slammed against the marble of his temple. Another, he had lost. Alcippe, he was going to call her. She would have been wonderful. He can see it, all years that they would’ve spent together, how his family would be overjoyed, how mother would be so proud, they would be father and daughter. Only for it all to be ripped to pieces. He raged and raged, but nothing would ever bring her back to him, not even in death, would they meet again. So, he killed and murdered, because that was all he could think to do.
“G-Go…” She tried. The pain of Her universe crumbling around Her stunting Her speech. “My lady, what is it?” Ananke urged, concern and despair hiding behind her apathetic eyes. “Today is not the day you die, Khaos, I swear it. Now please, tell me what I can do.” Fate’s small hand wrapped around one of Her fingers. She lurched forward as another tear threatened Her physical body.
Zeus ran. Not for his life, but for something that might as well be it. “Helen!” He screamed. Chasing after the newborn babe that was turning to clouds as he tried to follow her. Her little fingers first, whitening and fading into an airy mist that smelled of ozone. Then her entire arms then her legs, and finally, all that remained was her head, before that too faded. She drifted up to her father’s domain of sky, his last comfort being that now she would be as carefree as the breeze. He dropped to his knees where her body once was and cried out to the heavens, nothing but a couple startled wind sprites and dryads listening.
“Anan- Ananke… please..” She whispered. “Yes, my lady! I’m here!” Ananke squeezed Her finger, in it bringing back some clarity. “F-Find.. the-them.” She strained, voice crackling with effort. “Find.. the mira- miracles l-lost among.. the s-stars, wea-weave them into… the tap-tapestry, s-save… my- my children, please...” She shuddered.
“No baby, no no you’re alive, you have to be!” Hermes sobbed. The little body he clutched to his chest was cold and blue, nothing would change that. But Hermes wanted to pretend, for a little bit, that one lived. The babe was clothed, washed, and tried to be fed, yet light didn’t find itself in their dull eyes. It remained a deceased child that would never live.
She gave out, for She could no longer hold Herself upright without risking her gods, her universe, her children. Ananke stood by her side, eyes solemn, but a spark of hope rested within them, small as it was. “Consider it done, my lady.” She turned and opened space. The world felt like fabric beneath her fingers. She pulled, and a portal opened. With one last glance at the First Mother, she left, leaving Khaos alone in the dark.
-x—x—x—x—x-
It was snowing.
It felt like a normal day at first, Percy woke up, got dressed, left his cabin for the first activities he had, ate breakfast, activities, ate lunch, trained some newer demigods and had his daily sass off with Mr. D. Yet, when he left the Big House, snow drifted softly through the air around him, piling up on the roofs of the cabins and making other campers slip.
Which, y’know, doesn’t seem that strange for someone who’s in the loop, like himself, so, for all you muggles out there, snow, rain and hail aren’t meant to get through the barrier, think of it as a ‘gift’ from their parents. So, it’s safe to say it was very weird. But also, it was the middle of summer.
It was also! Very overstimulating! Rain was easier to deal with, but snow was made up of ice crystals, which overwhelmed his hydrokinesis like crazy. When it rained, he could feel it, every drop begging him to move it, which sucked, but he could manage, plus it all felt like one body.
With snow it felt like he was being pulled in every direction, not that it was the same for snow on the ground, snow on the ground was actually pretty okay, but gods, did he hate snow. Thanks a lot, Boreas, or Khione, or you know what? Whoever up there is in charge of ruining his day. Probably Zeus. Definitely Zeus. Hate that guy.
So, he went back into the Big House and, in all his amazing maturity and powerful demigodness, slammed his hands over his ears, screwed his eyes shut and shivered on the couch until it all went away. Which took a while, probably a big storm.
This was kinda embarrassing, and by kinda, he means totally. He’s meant to be the Saviour of Olympus, yet here he was quivering at shaking at the sight of a little snow. If Luke knew that he’d probably have tried harder to get Boreas and Khione on his side, or he’d just start the fight in somewhere snowy like Alaska.
He pulled his knees up to his chest and pressed them into his ribs to try and get something to focus on instead of the ten million little voices screaming for attention, which didn’t work. Shucks. Stupid Zeus. He hates Zeus. He felt like he’s been waiting for hours for it to stop, but with his luck, it’s probably only been a couple minutes. Damnit, Clarisse was right, his luck sucks.
Just as he felt tears begin to prick at the edge of his eyes, the couch sagged beside him as a new weight was added to it. He cracked one eye open in surprise, only to see the Messenger God, Hermes, who also just so happened to be his cousin, sitting next to him. “Hey baby cousin! Looks like you could use some help over here!” He grinned, the wings on his head fluttering happily. Of course a god would be happy at his plight.
“Hermes..?” He murmured weakly. Gosh, he felt pathetic. Much hatred towards Zeus. He quickly scrubbed his eyes and turning to him, wrapping his arms around his legs which were still digging into his chest. It was a bad thing to let a god see you vulnerable, gods know what they’d do with that.
Hermes’ eyes darkened for a moment for they lit back up with his usual sunny disposition. “What are you doing here?” He whispered, he didn’t know why, it just felt like being too loud right now would be a bad idea, plus his throat felt hella dry.
“Why, to see you, dearest cousin!” He smiled, which after his deadpan, strained a little. “Okay okay, Dio texted group chat saying ‘the sea child is shivering on my couch, what do I do’.” He mimicked, pulling off a surprisingly accurate Mr. D impression. Oh right, God of Language. He hadn’t even heard Mr. D enter the room, or leave it for that matter. Ten million years of hatred to Zeus for 250.
Hermes leaned back on the couch, wrapping one arm around Percy, which he eyed, and continuing. “So, I was like, ‘I’ve got this Dio! Leave it to me!’ Like the nice guy I am, and hopped over here to see what’s issue with my favourite cousin, and now we’re here!” He said while motioning to him.
“Since when did you guys have a group chat?” He said with a raised eyebrow. Hermes’ eyes darkened again before his mask came back up. Strange. “Since, like, forever! It’s more like a neural link now that I think about it, but whatever, that’s not the point,” His voice took a serious tone, and Percy was suddenly reminded how much bigger he was then him.
“The point is, what going on with you? Like, for Dio to ask anything of us is pretty strange, he hasn’t really said anything to us since his punishment.” Percy scoffed at that. Mumbling ‘I wonder why’ before realising that Hermes could probably hear that.
Let’s think about this, cons of not telling him, Hermes will definitely know whatever he says is a lie and probably force him to tell him anyway. Cons of telling him, he knows one of his weaknesses. Ehh, it’s a pretty even match up but they kinda have the same outcome. Tell him it is.
He sighed. “It snowing..” He murmured shyly. Hermes scrutinised him. “Yeah? How is that making you so down in the dumps?” He said dumbly. Percy squeezed the bridge of his nose and dragged his hand down his face. He threw his hand in the direction of the door before saying. “I don’t know, maybe because it’s inside the barrier?” He snarked while motioning at the snow that was piling up against the door. Damnit Zeus for spreading his stupidness to his perfectly maybe kinda alright children.
Hermes looked outside to see the snow still steadily falling from the sky. “Ohhh.” He said with his mouth in the shape of an ‘o’. “Yeah, that is weird, but that can’t be all that’s bothering you.” He replied. Damnit, of course he couldn’t sneak around a damn trickster god, or a God of Lies for that matter.
Before he could even open his mouth, the front door to the Big House burst open, making him and Hermes halt all conversation and turn their heads, and there, in all his golden glory, stood a sort of frazzled Apollo.
“Hi! Sorry I was late, I was checking on the kids.” He closed the door before shucking off his fur shawl, placing it on the coat rack and sauntering over to where the pair on the couch were. Percy, surprised, got a quick peak of the outside, it was getting kinda dark out, it wasn’t full night yet, but the sky was a darker blue.
He sat down on Percy’s other side and spoke with a renewed sense of determination. “Right, continue!” Percy, noticing he was trapped between two very, temperamental very powerful gods that could smite him in two milliseconds, decided he should probably definitely tell the truth now.
He decided to start off this embarrassing conversation with something intelligent. “Um, well.” He starts. Hermes and Apollo look like they’re about to smite him, so he indignantly continues. “Snow, uh, hurts, I guess.” He mumbles. The two gods look confused, and Percy looks like the last place he’d want to be was there.
“What do you mean snow ‘hurts’?” Apollo asks quietly, as if trying to not spook him like he’s some kind of wild animal. Percy sighs, surrendering himself to his fate of being utterly ashamed, and continues. “Well, one of the things I got from dad was hydrokinesis, and snow is basically just frozen water. So, it hurts.” That’s very vague, sorry, it’s the best he can do.
Hermes looks at him pensively, his wings flaring slightly as he narrows his eyes. “Elaborate.” He says sharply. Shucks. Damnit Zeus, why did you have kids, keep it in your damn pants, or chiton. Whatever. “It’s kinda like…” He tries. Hermes’ eyes narrow even further and Apollo frowns at him.
“Well, um, it’s kinda like a million little voices are yelling at me to pay attention to them and it gets really loud and it feels like I can feel everything, so uh, yeah, snow hurts.” He motions with his hands. Apollo’s frown deepens, along with the concerned knit of his brows, Hermes’ face tightened and Percy suddenly felt very small.
“That sounds sore…” Apollo murmurs quietly, as if trying to spare his ears the burden of adding another voice to the cacophony. Fortunately, he felt the amount of snow begin to cease, meaning he won’t have to deal with this much longer. Hopefully he’ll be able to get to his cabin before it gets heavier and not have to deal with anymore godly bullshit.
The room grew quieter. Percy quickly stood up, seeing the silence as a chance to dip. “Right, well, I’m leaving, great chat. If you chase me I’m asking Aphrodite to ruin your love lives.” He said as he practically ran out of the Big House. What can he say, his fight or flight response acted up around gods. He heard the shuffle of furuture behind him and a shout. “Perseus! Wait!” Apollo yelled before having the door slammed in his face. He hopes he didn’t just curse himself for shutting out a god like that. The sky, which, luckily had cleared or else he’d be having a splitting headache, was alight with stars. He didn’t stop running till he reached the safety of his cabin, even when he felt heat flare up behind him. He quickly fell asleep because it was already eight o’clock. Time flies when you’re scared shitless, am I right?
-x—x—x—x—x-
It was strange, the art gallery she had found herself in when she opened that portal.
There were rows upon rows of tapestries decorating the walls, each having a description of what they were. One they passed simply said ‘Kronos won’, no other words needed, another said ‘Modern AU, no demigods, gods, or other magical creatures’ which was quite a preposterous thought, how could there not be any gods? What even weaved the tapestry if not the fates? She didn’t even know what a demigod was.
A wilting one came into view. ‘Perseus dies in a field of frost covered flowers, the gods close off, Poseidon fades from his sadness, Hestia takes his place, the sea crumbles without its master, all humans are eventually wiped out with the lack of water, Camp Half-Blood falls, the gods return to the skies, closing their hearts to the very mortal existence of their children.’ That one sounded pretty sad, no wonder it was fraying. At least it wasn’t being ripped apart like her own one. Nevertheless, she found herself giddy at the thought of a godling, and jealous at the fact that having no children did not seem to be a common thing.
On one wall hung another tapestry, if she could even call it that. Alone stood one string, sea green and bright, it appeared the entire thing had been burnt away, leaving one string left, which was then weaved into another tapestry, seems that fate had a backup. Now that they looked closer, there was a string on it that also glowed, if more faint, it was gold coloured and covered in sand. ‘The sky woke up.’ It said.
Across from that one hung a tapestry shining with gold, all of the threads were united under one sea green one, even the gods’ strings. ‘A little pearl reminds the Olympians that children are wonderful beings, even if they’re not permanent. The God’s soften, the demigods get what they deserve. It’s a family built on weariness.’ It seems that that little sea green being was important to the fate of all these tapestries, it was like it was the driving force of their histories. How fascinating.
The walk continued, none of them had the right spark, either all was lost or all was won, they couldn’t take the little miracle away if they were loved so much. As she walks on, they saw something, at the end of the gallery, there lay a massive tapestry, way bigger than any of the other ones, it felt all encompassing.
‘Prime Universe.’ It read. ‘The original, all tapestries stem from this one.’ Now this, she cannot resist. If her gods were to get any sparks of hope, they had to be the best ones, the original. Oh, her heart flutters at the thought of her lady Khaos being overjoyed at the sight of living, breathing children of the gods. It doesn’t matter how much the original gods love and cherished these children, nor how much the children loved them. They were going to be hers. The perfect children for her most perfect gods. Then they would mend, then Khaos will live in happiness, not sorrow.
She dipped her fingers into the tapestry, watching as the slipped through like it was made of water. She smiled, this would work. She let the rest of herself fall through and found herself on Olympus. A different Olympus, clearly. It was way smaller than her own, almost as if their amount of worshipers had dropped.
She carefully revealed her three sets of wings and glided down through the air. She opened her multitude of Eyes and Looked. There were a few godly sparks where she was prior, but she was looking for something else. She softly met the ground by a lake, around her were many cabins, each holding a couple of diluted sparks, but sparks, they were. And she needed them.
She placed a spell, none would wake. She cannot let these gods, kind as they may be, take what was rightfully hers. She forced it down upon their minds, careful to mind the godliness, she didn’t know how delicate they were yet, and let out shrill of happiness. To any mortal, she’d be sure it’d sound demonic.
She could hardly contain her excitement. She sank into the ground, feeling the history of the area, of the battles waged, of the wars fought. Each skirmish leaving children dead. How horrific. It felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her head.
Precious miracles killed so meaninglessly by creatures their parents should have killed centuries ago. Young children barely even finished their first decade put to the slaughter. Yet still they don’t bat an eye at the near constant deaths of their young.
But what she found next angered her to the core of her being.
The gods of this world did not treat these little miracles with the love they deserve!?
Children fighting wars that have nothing to do with them!?
They who call themselves gods leaving these wonderful gifts in harms way!?
How vile and disgusting.
The Crooked One should never have risen a second time in the first place.
The demigods shouldn’t have bled for the God Queen’s decision, they should have dealt with it themselves. The Earth Mother is the enemy of the Olympians, not their wonderful bundles of joy. These were Gods for Khaos’ sake.
Barely even a claim on any of them. How horrendous. Their new parents shall treat them far better.
Her Eyes searched the grounds, there was one child in particular she wanted. She spotted them, alone in a cabin close to the sea, the shimmering sea green that always seemed to fix everything in every tapestry she’d seen it in. It was like the only thing keeping all the strings woven together was that child.
She walked- no, rushed, over to where the child was, flinging open the door, causing it to slam into the wall, and rushing to their bedside. It was a boy, she found. Fluffy, wind tousled hair swept along his head, as if blown by a sea breeze, she’d spend so long just carding her hands through it if she didn’t need to hurry to help Khaos.
She startled as his body began to shake, thinking him awake. Only to find it was something as simple as a night terror causing his distress. Was Hypnos not protecting them in their sleeping hours? Even in a dreamless slumber pushed onto them by Fate, he still could not hide from the terrifying memories of the horror this world’s gods allowed him to face. Such a young child, the greatest example of these God’s misgivings, their mistakes carved grotesquely into his very skin. Disgusting.
The boy was quite sick too, it seemed, he was burning up and shivering, not wholly from the night terror. She felt empathy, but then again, this boy was a very strong soul, the sickness will surely help him warm up to his new parents better.
Her Eyes Looked deeper to see any claims she needed to remove. When she leaned in See better, a vicious, snapping tide ripped at her face, narrowly missing taking her mouth off. She shook herself out of her stupor and giggled slightly. She used her hand to silence the tide, snapping its jaw shut so only what remained was a couple of ripples in calm seas. Seems the Sea God adored this one. Too bad, she needed him.
Along with the angry ‘mine mine mine!’s of the ocean, were the golden glows and silver linings of both the darling Sun and shining Moon. She had no doubt that a boy as important as this one would receive many blessings from gods, especially the defenders of children. Just under two decades old, the boy seemed to be, practically an infant!
The Styx’s waters cooled his skin as well, she must have truly liked this boy, for a blessing that was taken from her such as the Curse of Achilles would usually be viciously snapped back and returned to her by Death. It seemed almost happy to be with him, Styx would surely kick up a fuss if he went missing. It’ll be funny to watch.
A vine pricked her finger. Dionysus. Seems he watches over the godlings for their parents. Vines curled protectively around the boy’s head, almost like they were trying to mimic their older brother’s laurels, how cute.
She cared not for the smaller stars, but a couple caught her eye, perhaps she’ll take some he knows so he’ll adapt easier. One she wanted was a star grudgingly formed, starting of with fights and quarrels, but ending with them trusting each other. It was so adorable. As she left the cabin, a couple of thoughts came to mind.
To be honest, marks were, well, fainter than she had expected, almost rudely so, and quite frankly, it hurt her feelings. The claims had been laid but not truly maintained like they should be, more like a mark of ownership rather than an oath of love. When she searched deeper, she found signs of divine anger, of malice, turned onto these demigods. Wounds from monsters sent to tear, bite and kill, traces of lost memories, of death, the grotesque touch of a disgustingly foul mortal that should have been killed long ago, and curses from those who should be above such things.
How horribly disappointing. They wondered how things had gotten to this point, how things had varied so differently from the world that They came from. And this was simply meant to be the normal thing? This was the original? These godlings, these children, were not being appreciated like they deserved to be? Were not being taken care of like they deserved to be? She could taste the everlasting bitterness, desperation and anger in the air around her, the fear of not being enough nearly suffocating her with its mist.
This Pantheon didn't know how good they had it; how lucky they were to have children who only wanted to be seen by them. To be loved by them.
They wanted to squander this gift? Fine. She would take them instead.
Next, she came for the claims. She giggled as her hands gripped each one and ripped until nothing was left but shards of torn apart relationships. No one would know she even did it, it would seem as if he’d simply disappeared. The child was now hers, the gods of this worls don’t have any claim ownership over him now, and anyways, the bonds needed to be remade, and she was sure that the ones that would replace them would be iron tight and unable to be broken so easily.
Oh, how she wished she could rip apart every little being that hurt this child the same as she had done those bonds, even the gods, it didn’t matter, but alas, the aftermath would be too entertaining.
She spun him into a little thread, happiness spiking when she saw that famed sea green, and brought him with her on her little quest for others. She moved onwards, quickly finding the cabin that particular spark she noticed belonged to, no doubt the God of War’s.
Blackstone walls that looked as if pools of blood were running down them, falling down the walls in cherry red waterfalls. Spike traps were positioned along the sides of the building, clearly having been used before with the amount of monster dust that covered them. There was a taxidermy boar’s head hung over the door, its eyes seemed to follow her as they made her way over. Inside the boar’s gaping mouth was a plaque with a number five on it.
Through the bright red door, she saw spears mounted in display cases, a few still covered by the gore of the creatures they’d killed, shields and armour hung on racks leaning on the walls and in the corner, a dog was sleeping on a bed. In the centre of all this was five slumbering children. It appears the children pushed their beds together to be closer to each other. How cute!!
In the middle of all of them was a tall, broad-shouldered teenager with light brown hair pulled off her face by a green bandana. She was curling her arms around her siblings protectively, each snuggling up to her embrace.
Her string was a deep crimson, whispering with promises of protection and safety when she walked over to the bed. It was stained by violence and bloodshed, even as Ares’ daughter, children are not built for war.
Poor girl, having to take on the burden of protector. Having to stay strong for others but never given the chance to be protected herself.
Where was her divine parent, this should not be a child’s job.
She grasped her hand gently and carefully spun her string, minding not to wake up her dozing siblings.
She wanted another one.
She carefully checked the boy’s star map and found one. A dead one at that, she had wanted one from Elysium already though, just to see how Hades dearest would react to her invading his domain so. He’d probably start squirming.
Making it to the Underworld was impossibly easy, the putrid smell of rotting flesh and decaying organs was poorly disguised by the Mist. Charon didn’t even notice her as she drifted by, what kind of creatures was the King of the Dead employing? The entrance is terribly unguarded, she wouldn’t be surprised if Orpheus managed to leave the Underworld with Eurydice in hand in this tapestry.
She ventured towards Elysium, the resting place of heroes, the reward for their service, passing the Fields of Asphodel as she did so, the pungent smell of deep regret hitting her nose.
As They entered Elysium, she noticed how unguarded it it was, no monsters stationed to protect the little souls inside. How irresponsible.
Then she realised there was quite literally no one here except for the souls.
How terribly unguarded the resting place of heroes is!! And this Lord of Death calls himself their protector!?
She shook herself out of her absolute stupor and began surveying the area outside the gates. Cerberus was obviously occupied elsewhere considering his post was empty, and the ferryman didn’t seem to ever go past the Styx’s waters. Were there any keepers? Any caretakers? Any guards? Someone or something to protect the Sacred Terminal Plain of Elysium?
They walked through the glowing gardens of the Dead, pearly white pillars shooting out of the ground every so often to line pathways or hold roofs. The paved streets were lined with villas and temples; each temple housed the god’s respective children inside. They spotted the Isles of the Blest through the cypress trees that were all along the lake as they passed a temple for Aphrodite. There were gatherings of souls here and there, chatting about whatever dead people talk about. But she had a more important goal. She then saw the boy, he stood out so clearly that she thought it strange she didn’t notice him before.
There, standing mournfully on the edge of the River Lethe, was a muted orange string tinged with gold and encrusted with sand.
That child should’ve ascended.
she felt it the minute she saw him.
He was once a hero, it seemed, made to play the villain when his father found him to be not as interesting as he thought he was. Another victim of the gods’ negligence. How strongly he yearned for his father’s attention, stretching himself so thin that he snapped easily under the will of the Titan King. This Hermes was clearly much different than hers, if her Hermes had him, he’d never let this boy think for a second that he was not worth his attention.
She drifted towards him, carefully closing their many of eyes and wings, the boy would likely still know who she was due to her divine presence, but true forms could kill a mortal. She must keep herself in check.
“Why do you fret, child?” She spoke. Her voice was heavy with age, wisps of present and future were laced into her words and sorrows of ancient past rumbled beneath her breath, caused by her Gods’ turmoil. The child turned his head to Fate, his breath hitched at the sight of her.
“I-” He startled, he sobered up quickly when he recognised her. “Of course, you have come to judge me. Please, tell me where I deserve to go?” His sudden rigidness tousled his wind-swept hair, which was now mourning the lost of the freeing winds that once breezed through it. The lack of these children’s knowledge of their very own divinity was truly fascinating. What use would these Gods have in hiding these gifts? Why lock them behind walls of distance and apathy?
Godlings are clearly more animalistic than humans, surely, they know that? It is hard not to when divinity touches your soul, especially the divinity of an Olympian. Yet, she could feel it, here and back in that sorry excuse of a place of protection. The children were denying their instincts, of the need they had in the back of their mind. Not spending any time in the presence of their parents would surely do it.
“Hmm.” she hummed in hushed tone of overlapping voices of the fates of all she weaved. “What do you need me to judge you of?” She asked gently. Seems these children were easily spooked. The child shifted his gaze back to stare out past the River Lethe, and the air of sadness replaced the confusion and happiness she felt permeate the air when the boy met her eyes.
“I neither deserve here nor in rebirth. The paradise that I was given is not something that rightfully belongs to me.” He sighs in apathy, as if his death was truly deserved. “There is too much I allowed to happen for me to have the right to be here, I should be in the Fields of Punishment with all the other false heroes, not Elysium.” The dark, murky waters of the Lethe lapped at its banks, as if trying to lure the boy into its depts. How could these Gods leave him like this? Left abandoned, manipulated by the vile Titan King, and sacrificing himself to save the other demigods that should have already been protected. The pure cruelty of it all was incredible.
She smiled tightly. “Maybe a word of advice will do you well?” He turned to face her, his sky-blue eyes, full of trapped divinity that was soon fizzled out, searching Their face for something, she hoped he’d found it. “Don’t waste the life you have left fighting.”
The child frowned at her, eyebrows knitted together as if trying to discern the meaning behind Fate’s words. It may not make sense to the boy, but oh, how much sense it made to her. Those words were spoken to her a very long time ago, and after all, this spark of mortality mixed with godly essence had so much more life to live.
Before the boy had a chance to speak, They willed him into unconsciousness and he crumpled, the child’s mind slumped into the deepest depths of Hypnos’ domain. They caught him before he hit the ground, of course, seeing all the boy’s scars angered her. She pushed it back in favour of spinning him into a string.
She turned, about to exit the world, before she heard a loud explosion behind her. The Styx had surged, shifting and contorting in anger. The goddess finally pulled her body from the water and there she stood, the Lady Styx, in all her glory. “You!!” She screeched, voice enraged and murderous. Ananke smiled slyly. “Me.”
Another explosion came from within the Styx in response to her rage, her pitch black eyes seemingly sucking the colour out of their surroundings. “Where did you take him!?? Give me back my champion! Now!!” She screamed again. Ananke simply chuckled. “He’s not yours anymore, dear Styx. Maybe I’ll return him to you, someday. But, all this rudeness is making me think I shouldn’t.” She grinned smugly. Suppose she’ll have to return for more godlings later.
A portal opened beside her, Styx tore after her as she calmly walked through, and when Ananke looked back, she saw behind the Styx’s anger to her desperation to have what is hers back. The portal closed yet the river’s screams still echoed loudly around the art gallery she once again found herself in. It brought a smile to her face.
She began walking back to her own universe, passing many of the multitude of other tapestries as she did so, it was mesmerising, in a way. The wilting tapestry seemed to have ripped even more while she was on her little trip, sad that it couldn’t be saved as easily as her own could be.
Through all that time, she had a lot of time to think. Think about a lot actually, but mainly about the three children she held in her grasp. She thought so much about them, and an idea came to her mind, and idea that brought another grin to her face.
See, the sea green was very strong spirited, as she said earlier, and that would… conflict with the meeting between the godlings and their parents. How does one fix that? Why, make them vulnerable of course! She spent a lot of time looking at his life, seeing which times he was most vulnerable, he couldn’t be too young, because that wouldn’t be entertaining enough, she wanted emotional turmoil.
So, she picked the best age to place him in, eight summers old. He’ll be utterly defenceless and won’t be able to resist his family. Sure, he can try, but he won’t be able to outrun them for long. After all, family is forever.
Next, she thought about the girl, she, while being strong in spirit too, was easier than the pearl. Her life was less tragic, but she still had a time she probably would never want to visit again, and that is exactly what Ananke wants her to feel. Ten summers.
Hmm, the other boy. He was harder again, he had always had his guard up, his entire life. Perhaps back to the age of his first quest? He sure was vulnerable after that, for breaking so easy under the Titan King. Yes, yes, she can see this will be a wonderful idea. Fourteen summers.
The scars can remain, the Gods will only have a more thrilling reaction when they see the harm done to their precious babes, it’ll be hilarious! She cradled their strings as she neared her tapestry. ‘The Broken Pantheon.’ It read, and she couldn’t agree more, but that will all be fixed soon.
The threads were easy to weave among the ones left standing from the last tear, she placed them in the same general area, hoping for them to find each other. She gave them each a last little head path before returning to her wonderful lady’s side and serving her yet another day. This will be so entertaining!