#+ Sandal prophecy being about how 'everything will be back like they were'

[icharchivist]

still thinking about how one of the first da4 trailer had a Titan waking up and trying to figure out at which point in development was it decided that ALL the Titans being made Tranquils were just like dead and therefore their time is over, despite also The Descent implying that a whole in the Veil stirred a sleeping titan and Cole saying "[the titans] want to wake up but they can't" in Trespasser.

Like, maybe it's my bias talking and I'm willing to admit that but I don't think the fate of the Titans was completely overlooked in Solas' original plan. I just think that once DA4 took the approach of "let the past go and focus on the present" the Titans had to be wrapped up, and since we never actually talk about Solas' motivations in game, it's left unclear whether Solas wanted to do something for the people he created Tranquility on -- but the original draft seems to imply that something was supposed to happen.

[mrs-gauche]

So, on the new teaser published on DA Day this year, while I won't even try to go as in-depth as the amazing @felassan already did, compiling everything of note in this excellent post, like the sleep deprived German with limited vocabulary that I am, I'm just gonna add my little two cents to it, hopefully not repeating too much of what has already been mentioned. 😁

So why not start with the caption here!

This honestly made me snort out loud. 😂 I mean, it's like BioWare is not even trying anymore to be subtle about the fact that Thedas has we know it is 100% doomed. lol And yes, I know we all joke about Thedas constantly being in Apocalypse mode, but this time it really feels like some massive change is approaching.

But to be specific, I am pretty confident in that this is referring to both the destruction of the Veil, as well as the freed Evanuris dooming the world through some kind of mega Blight.

When I first read the word "revelation", it immediately made me think of Solas' Tower tarot card. The Tower literally represents sudden, disruptive revelation and potentially destructive change. While "damnation" is the concept of a divine punishment, to be "doomed to suffer in hell forever".

And as felassan theorized, if the last person in the teaser speaking is Elgar'nan, and if he is in fact connected to the Old God Lusacan, who is the God of Night, bringing about the "eternal night" and darkness…

“Lusacan, the Dragon of Night, calls to you. He lives where it is darkest and waits for the day he will rise. Drink of his blood and know the power in darkness: either fear the Night or wield it." "The darkspawn yearn to awaken and corrupt Lusacan to start a new age of darkness." “A night that will never end”

...Whereas the "revelation"/Solas tearing down the Veil, to me at least, always seemed to be associated with light or "purification" (for lack of a better word), with how it was described in Sandal’s prophecy and the way the destruction of the Veil was portrayed in the 2022 cinematic, almost blindlingly bright. (Also, "Solas" literally means "light" in Irish. lol)

„One day the magic will come back. All of it. Everyone will be just as they were. The shadows will part. And the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see.“

So I think, like this "revelation" contrasts the "damnation", like Light and Darkness, at least in terms of visual language, there could be a hint of a figurative, as well as a literal "clashing" of two opposing forces? Like, both are destructive, but like The Tower represents destruction in order to rebuild/to enforce new growth/for the soul to evolve, while the damnation is nothing but irreparable corruption?

Anyway! So generally speaking, the teaser highlights yet again three of the factions/places we've seen in all the 2020 teaser/concept art/books/comics. It looked absolutely gorgeous and the voice over gave me goosebumps, as well as the amazing score again (that may or may not be composed by Hans Zimmer and/or Lorne Balfe lol I wonder) and the sound design! <3333 Though what’s curious to me, is that neither the Shadow Dragons of Tevinter or the Veil Jumpers from the Arlathan Forest were mentioned this time around…

So, I think this time the teaser might be more about the main plot beats/quests in the game than about the protagonist's potential origins, like how in DAO and DAI, you travelled to various places gathering allies and completed their respective narratives first before facing the main threat. Each of the places shown is coupled with a voice over from what is most likely gonna be an important character in each of these plot beats.

The fact that they changed the word "hero" in the plot blurb on the official DA website to "leader" is also.. interesting. It kinda reminds me of when Mark Darrah mentioned that the "vision statement" for Joplin was gonna be "We would be heroes, but the records are sealed". 👀 Or maybe the new protagonist might not be so heroic after all and more on the morally grey spectrum, which is always nice to explore. lol Makes me also yet again wonder about the "They call me the Dread Wolf. What will they call you when this is over?" line, meaning that, no matter how heroic our actions might be, in the end history might still remember us as the villain.

Antiva

This looks phenomenal and if they actually manage to realize a city as big as what this suggests AND fill it with meaningful content and people (side-eyeing you, Val Royeaux lol), it will blow my mind! lol Like felassan said, I'm very curious if we're gonna do some Assassin's Creed style "parkour" here, like what was kinda described in the short story "As We Fly" from last year! The Crows as the only real military defense of Antiva, particularly in Treviso, seem to be in deep trouble now, having been invaded by the Antaam and if you look closely, you can actually see the banner of the Qunari being displayed in the city!

"We fight for everyone. And we always will. The Crows rule Antiva."

My first thought hearing the voice here was actually Caterina Dellamorte. The lines express authority or leadership and it's also a more elderly sounding voice (to me at least), so Caterina as the First Talon would make a lot of sense to me! There have also been lots of speculation about her grandson, Lucanis, being a potential companion as well.

Rivain

(Oh no, all of Rivain got eaten by a squid. lol)

I've been hoping to go there ever since I first saw concept art of Rivain, and this is still giving me huge Pirates of the Caribbean (but with magic) vibes. 😂 As someone who thoroughly enjoyed playing AC Black Flag like ten years ago, this looks VERY promising! Though please, if we're getting any kind of underwater combat (like with the Vinsomer mentioned in the codex entry from last year), just don't make me fight dragons underwater, I'm still traumatized by the Lagiacrus in Monster Hunter Tri. 💀

"Glory to the risen gods. They come to deliver this world."

As to who is saying this, honestly, no idea. 😂 The blurb on the website mentions dragons in this place acting up for some reason, and the line sounds very cultist. lol But I'm definitely with felassan here, too, that this has to be connected to the Evanuris as well, given this GIANT squid thing on the map and all of the horrifying ocean related stuff linked to Ghilan'nain and her monstrosities, my money is also on her being one of these "risen gods".

And honestly… If I was a simple sailor or pirate and then one day I would see this emerge from the ocean…

….I'd probably start believing in these "gods", too. lmao

Anderfels

Next up, we're going to the Anderfels and Weisshaupt and I don't really have anything to add to what has already been said, other than "Shit is definitely Going Down Here". lol Lorewise, it would be crazy to go there and learn more about the very beginnings of the Wardens at their headquarters, so.. given the lines, the ominous sound of battle in the background here and some *things* from those reddit leaks earlier this year (felassan made a great post about this too, but spoiler warning of course!).. I just hope there will be enough left of Weisshaupt to explore after all this. lol

"Grey Wardens don't hide in our castle. I won't ask good soldiers to turn tail and run."

My first guess was the First Warden as well, but felassan actually made a few very good points here that make me question it… 🤔

I was also wondering what these "pillar ring" things are and while I first thought some kind of magical defense mechanism, I saw a reddit user suggesting that these rings could be part of a griffon training flight path?? Hell YEAH. #BringBackGriffonsInDA4

"Tremors have been creating disturbances of late. Their cause is unknown. Upon the distant horizon, a storm of ominous intent brews and darkens the skies."

That is a very interesting description, given that the sky in *this* concept art (which is definitely also showing Weisshaupt), is quite clearly the opposite of "dark". lol

(*looking suspiciously at the things I mentioned at the beginning here about "Light and Darkness" clashing* 👀👀👀 Maybe Solas came to visit here, too, because he just loves the Wardens, right? lol)

You know, if I read the words "tremors" and "Grey Wardens", my natural conclusion is "Something something Old Gods Underground + Grey Wardens Trying to Kill Them Before They Awake = Nothing Good" (and let's not forget about the eleven(!!) mountains/Ghilan'nain's ancient pools underground mentioned in Tevinter Nights as well), keeping in mind that Solas gets furious about the Wardens deliberately searching them out and slaying them (because he obviously knows what's gonna happen if all of them are slayed(!)), and in DAI there was already something ominous going on at Weisshaupt...

And all of this coupled with the new vinyl artwork and all the promotional stuff for DA4 so far, makes me feel like the Wardens will be busier than ever before...

Seven semi-circles with two of them still "lit" and the "tambourine"/Veil looking more broken with each new update....

Seven Old Gods/Evanuris that were banished when Solas created the Veil.....

Seven mirrors shattering....

Seven gates of the Black City, which Kordillus Drakon prophesied will someday shatter and cover both the mortal and spirit realms in darkness....

And speaking of "DARKNESS COVERING BOTH REALMS".....

Tevinter

One word: TENDRILS. lmao

So the last shot shows a big part of Tevinter on the map, most of it covered in purple clouds and tendrils...

Followed by a voice that had me like

"All the world will soon share the peace and comfort of my reign."

First off, that voice actor sounds SO familiar, omg, who IS that?? Someone suggested Joseph Capp, the voice of the Shadow Prince from Divinity 2 and that fits perfectly (DOS2 has quite a few VAs from DA actually and funnily enough, the Shadow Prince is part of Sebille's main quest, who's voiced by Alix Wilton Regan lol) Whoever it is, they're doing a great job at sending a shiver down my spine. lol Like, you can just TELL, he's the Real Deal. "Peace and Comfort" never sounded more menacing. 👀

Alright, so I'll make this short, and say that I'm also very very confident that this is Elgar'nan speaking.

People have suggested the Archon, the Black Divine, some Venatori or Qunari leader, but honestly guys, none of these make much sense to me when looking at the bigger picture here (aside from the visual hints I've talked about earlier). Like, this teaser is obviously trying to set this person up as a serious threat to *the whole world*, and the only way I can see this work would be if this person held just as much or more power than Solas, because if they don't, they would just end up being a secondary concern, like another Corypheus…

You just don't market a game by suddenly introducing a new smaller threat to *"AAALL THE WORLD"* less powerful than the one we already have, you know. 😂 And imo, the only one "outmatching" Solas in terms of power, at this point, would be Elgar'nan or any of the elven gods. Or literally the Blight itself/the Titans.

And then there's this

"Hundreds of years in the making."

We know who has been directing the course of history for ages behind the curtains… I mean, the entire series has been building towards Mythal getting her vengeance.. and what better way to finally get to that point than to bring her husband into the narrative, the one who was potentially the main instigator of the Evanuris's betrayal and Mythal's murder. 👀

(There's one thing I need to say though, and I know this is the silliest of nitpicks, but.. if that guy really does turn out to be Elgar'nan, am I the only one who thinks it's really funny how he's just… talking British English/the common tongue like that? 😂 I mean, I 100% get why they cannot make the actors talk in ancient elven with subtitles for the whole game (something I personally really appreciated when they did it for some of the ancient elves and spirits in DAI), like Corypheus wasn't talking in the old tongue either, and I feel like there are multiple reasons for why this just wouldn't work. And if we're looking for a lore reason, I guess even the imprisoned Evanuris had somehow enough access to people's dreams over the course of thousand years to learn the languages of present Thedas as much as Solas or any other ancient elf like Abelas or Felassan did, but it's still funny to me nonetheless. lol)

Anyway, the teaser ends with a dragon's growling sound and then another wolf howling in the back, which I interpreted as Solas giving Elgar'nan a fair warning here that he's indeed still the title-giving DAD character. lol If we get to see these guys battling it out for real, like Giant Demon Wolf vs Black City Sized Blighted Dragon, it's already the best game in my book. lol

You just know someone at BioWare is having a blast at coming up with as many references to Solas' Trespasser dialogue to put in these blog posts as possible. 😂 I just hope they can keep this promise, cuz I have a LOT of questions (and I need Solas to answer ALL of them lol).

Hmmm... You "hope so", yes? Well, after *this* teaser I sure *hope* that the sentiment of "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" still holds true in this particular situation, because I'd rather still be on Team Solas if I have to choose between "revelation" and "damnation". 👀

I guess we'll see next summer... 😁

[brezchez]

Bruno and bonding

After being absent for 10 years of their lives, Bruno attempts to amend things with his nieces and nephews. Hopefully, it all goes according to plan.

[Prologue] - Mirabel and Julieta

[1] - Luisa

[2] - Isabela

[3] - Dolores

[4] - Camilo

[5] - Antonio

Please do leave comments on what you think I'd love to hear them! And follow my blog for random shananigans :D

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2: Isabela

Bruno stood in front of Isabela’s door, holding a bouquet of roses, orchids, dahlias and tuberosas and other flowers Luisa described to be Isabela’s favourites. Their flower-picking session yesterday gave Bruno a glimpse of hope that the chance to get closer with his younger relatives could actually work.

Genuinely, he did want to know them all better. After spending ten years hearing only the muffled sounds of their voices and their conversations, their arguments, their laughs, their sobs, everything, it was only right that now he wanted to see who was behind those sounds. He had heard the voices, now he wanted to see the faces.

Timidly, though with some more confidence than last time, Bruno knocked, and yet again there wasn’t a quick answer. So he tried again. Still nothing. Eventually, he entered, hoping he wasn’t intruding and instantly he was stunned.

Vibrant colours of different tones, warm and cool, dark and bright, dull and vivid illuminated every inch of the room. Not one corner held two of the same plant and a whole wide variety of flowers and trees and shrubs, that Bruno could and couldn’t recognise, were seen everywhere.

Specs of powdered dye could be felt on his rough skin and in between his fingers, and he could’ve sworn that he could taste it on his tongue as well. The soft crunch of foliage and other plants echoed underneath his sandals, causing him to look down curiously.

It all looked like utter chaos, yet also complete harmony at the same time.

And sight wasn’t the only overload on Bruno’s senses. Rich aromas stemming from the varying vegetations surprisingly all complimented each other well and composed a heavenly scent. One that was so luscious, Bruno had to take a step back.

Descending from a palma de cera, Isabela was seen throwing dye about her walls and growing new plants. She was very clearly focused on her task, whilst greatly enjoying herself at the same time and Bruno was unable to stop himself smiling softly at her enthusiasm.

Soon, she caught sight of her tío standing shyly by the door. Waving to him, she shouted from across her room, “I’ll be right there!�� and slid across using the leaves of the palm tree she was on.

“Hola,” Isabela greeted with a welcoming grin.

“Hola, Isabela. These are for you,” Bruno greeted her back in return and handed her the bouquet of flowers.

“Oh, mil gracias tío,” she said, smelling the flowers and smiling softly. Bruno unconsciously mirrored her smile.

“De nada.”

“How did you know that these were some of my favourites?” the young, dark-haired woman asked as she walked over to a table that was made up of the bark of a tropical tree Bruno couldn’t name but recognised, and was decorated with plants ranging in big and small sizes.

Following her, Bruno answered, “I had a little help from Luisa.”

“I love them so much, thank you tío.” Gratitude and warmth practically oozed from Isabela; it was ridiculously infectious, and was a huge change and contrast to how he used to hear her in the walls, especially around Mirabel.

“I see my prophecy came true,” he remarked, no doubt referring to how he foretold that Isabela’s powers would ‘grow like the grapes that thrived on the vine’.

Isabela chuckled at his comment, glazing down at her multicoloured dress and stained hands. “Yeah.”

Taking a couple steps forward, Bruno gazed at the wonders of her room. “I love what you’ve done here,” he said with wide eyes and a mouth that was slightly agape.

“Thank you. It’s taking a while but each day is a step closer to finishing,” said Isabela, putting her hands on her hips and admiring her hard work.

“How long has this been taking you?” asked Bruno, not moving his eyes off the lively colours.

Isabela sighed. “Oh, I think it's been a week so far? Maybe a bit less. I’m not sure, I haven’t kept track of the time.”

“A week?” exclaimed Bruno. He turned back to his niece, who looked at him. “All this has taken you a week?”

“Yep. I probably could have finished all this sooner if I didn’t have so many tasks to do everyday. But I don’t mind. It helps clear my head after a long day.”

“I guess you’re right,” said Bruno. He started walking forward, moving deeper into the room and Isabela followed him habitually. “You know, when I lived in the walls, I could tell which room was yours.”

Isabela looked at him with a confused expression, accompanied by a small smile. “How?”

“Some flowers were able to poke through the cracks in the walls sometimes,” he answered, chuckling softly.

“Oh, sorry about all that,” the girl apologised lightheartedly but Bruno shrugged it off.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I actually preferred them ‘cause they kept the place smelling nice.”

They kept walking for a bit, as Bruno saw more and more of Isabela’s splendorous room and work done to it and was so impressed, ‘impressed’ wasn’t the right word to describe it.

Running forward to get in front of her tío, Isabela inquired, “What was it like living in the walls, if you don’t mind me asking?”

At first Bruno froze at the question, but realised he didn’t have any reasons to be anxious and from what he could see on his sobrina’s face, she was genuinely interested.

“Well, of course, it was quite lonely,” Bruno started as they carried on walking, “And sad, obviously. You know, your family is living their lives and making the most of every moment and you’re just one cement wall away from them.”

Isabela led them to a wooden bench with a couple plants growing out on the corners and handrests, but she quickly removed them with a gentle wave of her hand.

“That must have been really hard,” she said, inviting him to sit down beside her. Real sympathy was painted across her expression.

“The closest I could ever get was during dinner time. As I’m sure you’ve seen, there was a small hole in the family portrait in the dining area, and every evening I would eat ‘with’ all of you and just pretend I was sitting right there alongside you.” Isabela’s heart crumpled with guilt.

“Sometimes, I would even contribute to your conversations like I was really there. I don’t know you guys didn’t hear me,” Bruno laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down.

Smiling sadly, Isabela conjured a hyacinth on the ground, picked it and handed it to her tío. “I’m so sorry for the way we treated you.”

Bruno’s heart bloomed in warmth at her gesture and kindly accepted her flower. He held it closely, admiring its vivid light purple shades and gorgeous essence.

“Thank you, Isabela. And I’m sorry for leaving you for ten years. If you feel guilty for treating me the way everyone did, then I feel 10x worse, believe me. I’m also sorry for not being a better tío to you when you were growing up. I know I kind of kept to myself a lot, but I really am trying to be better,” said Bruno softly and Isabela smiled at his words.

“I can see that you are. And you’re doing a great job.” She gently opened her arms for a hug, and Bruno didn’t hesitate.

When they pulled away, Bruno noticed a large banana tree leaf carrying three ceramic bowls, each holding either red, yellow and blue paint. Isabela retrieved them from the leaf and turned to her tío with an eager smile.

“Wanna help?”

[jungkookiebus]

A Sacrifice in the Temple of Apollo | kth

Credit for the gif here since the gif search wanted to be difficult.

Genre: mythology, GreekGod!au, smut Pairing: Apollo!Taehyung x mortal!reader Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: mentions of sacrifices to gods (non-graphic), semi-exhibitionism (you’ll see lol), cunnilingus, use of alcohol, intense finger fucking, sex in a religious space Summary: With your village ravaged by famine and plague; crops, livestock, and people are dying. The Temple of Apollo is just up the mountain and sacrifices have been left to no avail. You try to beseech the god yourself and get more than you bargained for.

The day was overcast as you climbed the mountain. Rain drizzled down on you, blanketing your hair and clothes until you were uncomfortable but not quite soaked. Shivering, you trudged forward up the roughly hewn stone steps ignoring the fact that the sandals you had on were too thin for this endeavor. You were desperate and willing to try anything. Below you, your village lay quiet, unnaturally so for this time of year. A sickness had spread through the people, crops, and livestock; effectively killing hundreds in its wake. It had taken your brother months ago. Your mother fell into a depression and your father’s barley crops had withered and died before they could even be harvested. The village was dark, bleak, and lifeless. People milled about in the market as if in a daze, children were starving, men were dying in the roads, and there was no one around to help you. Tears streamed down your face as the steps evened out, got more precise, as you grew closer. The trees in the forest thinned the higher you got. A column towered to your right, holding nothing, but there was a marker showing you that you were getting closer. The Temple of Apollo had been erected here many, many years ago; before you were even born. The steps were strewn with flowers, bug eaten bread, wine, and many other offerings as you climbed the final steps to the temple. Despite the collective effort of the village to offer Apollo the last of their food or drachma, nothing had changed. So, you were here to beg the god to listen. In your bag, you had the finest bottle of wine from your mother’s storeroom and a few coins jingled against the glass. The large, marble temple towered above you. Inside, oil lamps burned dimly, kept up by various villagers afraid to anger the gods further. The statue of Apollo stood, foreboding and intimidating, in the dim light. Expensive rugs, food, goblets, coins, and other various offerings littered the floor at his feet. Inside, it was quiet, eerie, save for the rain now falling harder outside. You looked behind you to see it like a grey wall, coming straight down with no inclination of slowing down. Water dripped from your clothes and your feet blistered in your sandals.

“Apollo,” you whispered, afraid to hear your own voice in the vastness of the temple. You coughed a little as you spoke again. “Apollo. I come here to plead with you. I know many have come before me, begging with you to have mercy on our village. I am sorry I have not come myself, but I am here now to ask for your help. Our crops and people are dying from this strange illness. Never have I heard of both being endangered at once, but please I’ve already lost my brother…”

Your voice caught in your throat; devastation washed over you as you thought about the loss.

The temple was just as quiet as when you walked in.

Then a raven’s call broke the silence. You jumped, turning around to see a raven fly through the sheet of rain, into the temple, and onto the outstretched arm of Apollo. Something brushed against the side of your foot and you looked down to see a thick, long python slithering next to you. Screaming, you fell back on the marble floor, bag landing in your lap as the snake ignored you and lithely slid amongst the offerings to the base of Apollo’s feet where it curled up and settled in as if he belonged there. Both the raven and the snake seemed to be watching the entrance of the temple behind you, unmoving as they looked.

Slowly, you turned your head. Your entire body shook with fear and cold as you breathed heavily, a soft cloud escaping your lips as the temperature dropped. The hair along your neck and arms stood on end as the air became charged and you chocked it up to the storm, but this felt different. The electricity coursing through the air wasn’t any you had felt before. Your chest felt tight and you willed yourself to breathe, but you were afraid that if you did, whatever was causing this would find you.

You looked through the driving rain and saw nothing. Squinting, you looked a little harder. The vague shape of a human was coming up the steps on the mountain. They walked smoothly, but slowly up the steps; in no rush to get out of the pouring rain. The closer they drew, the more you could make the outline of a man, much taller it seemed than the men in the village. Another raven emerged from the rain behind him, calling out as it whipped past his head within centimeters, but he neither ducked out of the way nor cried out as it flew past. It flew into the temple and perched next to the first. You only watched them for a second before you turned back towards the man, closer now as he started to navigate the offerings laid out and ruined on the steps. Your chest burned hotter and hotter as your lungs constricted, too afraid to breathe or move. He stepped through the rain and into the balmy, wet cavern of the temple, completely dry. His tousled, curly hair fell past his eyes and the dark strands kissed the back of his neck softly. His skin was dark and warm. Your breath was taken away as you looked at him. Smooth, unmarred skin disappeared under the soft white tunic that was made of a material you had never seen before. His brown eyes sparkled in the lamp light as he looked down at you. He seemed larger than life inside the temple, completely out of place yet strangely at home within the surroundings. He turned to survey the offerings, smiling as the saw the snake and ravens, before he turned to you and held out his hand. Your back was still to him as you sat frozen, head turned and looking at him. He gestured towards you more emphatically as if you were supposed to know what he wanted. His eyes widened as he looked at you in exasperation and pointed to your bag. Slowly, you swiveled around and with shaking hands opened the bag and pulled the wine from it. Mirth filled his eyes and a wide smile broke out across his face. You felt the warmth from his smile and his skin as he leaned closer to you in order to grab the bottle. Snatching up a goblet close by, he easily popped the cork out with his teeth, spit it to the side, and began pouring. He swirled the wine a little before bringing it to his lips and sipping lightly. He seemed to be in thought as he let the taste roll around on his tongue for a second.

“Tell your mother her wine is excellent,” he said turning his attention to you. “She can use her wine to play kottabos.”

You wanted your mouth to form words but all you could do was stutter as you struggled to think. He turned his head to look around the temple and that was when you saw the laurel wreath nestled in his curls. Some of the leaves looked as if they were freshly grown while some were a solid, thin gold.

“Are you…?” you finally were able to mutter.

He got down on one knee in front of you, forearm rested across it as he leaned into you. He smelled sickly sweet and a little like rain, even though he was completely dry. He stared into your eyes searchingly before his gaze directed to the large statue behind you. One of the ravens gave a single cry as you watched his eyes rake down the statue, past the snake, and back at you.

“Doesn’t really look like me, but I appreciate the effort.”

Could Apollo be right in front of you right now? Or were you so desperate for help that you were hallucinating?

“How do I know it’s you?” you clutched your bag tightly against you.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise and then furrowed as if caught off guard. Surely no mortal meeting a god had questioned their validity before? He let out a low whistle that blew the sweet smell of wine across your face. His eyes flitted to point behind you and once again you were slowly turning your head, unsure of how to prepare yourself for whatever phantom you were about to see. A young girl stepped out from behind the statue and stood next to the python. Beautiful blue robes laid across her shoulders and pooled past her feet. Ornate gold threading depicted Apollo receiving his golden bow and arrows from his father Zeus. Her eyes were as white as milk, but she looked at him as if she could see everything in the room.

“That,” he said pointing to the woman who was as still as a statute, “is the Pythia, Oracle of Delphi.”

Her face was impassive as you looked at her, the soft glow of the lamps lit her features. Her hair was softly braided, thrown over her shoulder, and golden thread was woven within the strands.

“What day is it?”

“Seventh day of the month and the number of Apollo,” he said winking at you. “The only day the Pythia will give prophecy.”

“Can she help us? Can…you help us?” You threw all caution to the wind as you chose to believe the man claiming to be Apollo himself.

“Of course, I can help you,” he said running his finger along your jawline before cupping your chin. He leaned your head back a little as he brought the goblet to your lips. “Now drink, my little bird.”

The familiar taste of your mother’s wine washed into your mouth as you drank, but there seemed to be something different; a taste foreign to your tongue. The tepid liquid ran down your throat and the strange taste seemed to coat it. Your vision blurred a little and your mind buzzed as if you were instantly drunk, but something within you lit like a flame. He smiled when he saw the look in your eyes change and pulled the bag from your lap, ignoring the coins as they clinked together inside. Leaning in close, he pressed his mouth against yours and the heat inside of you seemed fueled by the kiss as it burned hotter. He pulled away, eyes not leaving your swollen lips as his chest rose swiftly.

“You look so much like her…,” he said wistfully as his thumb brushed your bottom lip.

You shivered again from his touch as he placed his open palm against your neck. Heat radiated from him like the sun on a summer day and he seemed to shine just as bright in the dark temple. The flames from the oil lamps created flickering shadows on the walls. The statue shown even bigger and more intimidating in shadow with the two ravens still perched on the arm. His other hand came up to your face as he knelt in front of you, hooded eyes surveying every inch of your face.

“Wine kissed lips,” he whispered, head tilting in thought as he ran his thumbs over your features, “eyes as clear as the sea, skin kissed by Helios, and a face fit for the gods.”

The heat between you grew and amplified, filling every corner of the temple. The fires in the lamps dulled a little and soon the whole room glowed softly and you saw the flames perfectly in his eyes. Swiftly, he grabbed you by the waist and was sitting with you perched on his lap facing him within seconds. The Oracle still stood behind him, eyes distant as she stared out of the door of the temple, unmoving.

“She couldn’t love me,” he continued, “but you can.”

His lips were on your neck as he pulled you closer to him, hands tangling in your hair. He seemed desperate to be closer to you in every way and his breath quickened with each kiss.

Daphne. Eros had shot Apollo and made him fall in love with a nymph. That was who he was talking about; the nymph who turned herself into a laurel tree to escape him. Now that he was here in front of you, you weren’t sure why she would ever want to do that.

“Can you love me?” he asked breathlessly between kisses to your neck, shoulder, and face. He didn’t give you time to answer before his lips were on yours again, pushing your robe from your shoulders and his warm hands were on your ribs, pulling you against him and your breasts rubbed against the soft fabric. You moaned as the sensation made your entire body shiver. His hands were on your lower back now as he slid your hips even further into his and you felt him grow harder amongst the plumes of fabric.

He stopped suddenly, hands still grasping at your skin, chest heaving against yours as he looked up into your eyes. Flames flickered there as his pupils were blown wide with desire. “Will you be the sacrifice that saves your family?”

His question took you off guard, your mind clearing just a little. Were you willing to sacrifice yourself to save others? Hundreds had died and many more would due to famine. You had already lost so much, so what would be one more thing? Nothing.

“Yes.”

Something seemed to transfer from him to you as he devoured you body and soul. It filled you until you thought the feeling would be unbearable, somewhere between pain and pleasure, you were stuck in the balance between the two and you wanted to rupture to alleviate it. Your skin burned hotter than a fever and his lips were hotter still. He kissed the place above your breast as he grabbed your ass and pulled you harder against him. The shadows around you danced dangerously along the walls and vaulted ceiling. This time, you pushed the fabric from his shoulders to reveal a toned chest, the golden honey tone of his face matching perfectly to the rest of a him. A band of gold wrapped around his upper arm and you blearily watched as the muscles flexed beneath it. His mouth was on your nipple and hot pleasure raced across your skin and directly into your core. You felt yourself beginning to drip on the expensive fabric of his robes. He inhaled deeply as he came up from your breast, spit stretched to his lips as he detached and before you knew it his lips were on yours. His tongue was at your lips, darting past your teeth to explore the depths of your mouth. He moaned now, as he deepened the kiss and ground himself up into you as he kept a firm grip on your hips. He dipped his hand into the folds of your clothes and instinctively found your clit. He ran his hand past it, to your folds, to collect the slickness now gathering there and ruining his clothes. He placed two fingers over your clit and began to draw small circles, gradually applying pressure. Your legs quivered and threatened to close against the pleasure, but he kept you spread with his. Fiery red bruises blossomed along your neck and collarbone as he moved his lips anywhere he could reach, sucking and biting as he went. He slid both fingers back and curved them up into you, sliding deliciously in and out until he had your eyes rolling. Your fingers dug into the skin of his shoulders, back arched as you leaned more into him, riding his fingers. He stilled his movements as you began to roll your hips, using him to pleasure yourself. He pushed his thumb against your clit as he sucked your other nipple into his mouth, suckling gently, as he teased the sensitive nerve endings. Tears slipped slowly out of your eyes as your pleasure mounted. He moaned as your body shuddered, close to the edge. Hand completely still, you fucked yourself over him until you were dripping well past his wrist. Your eyes flew open as your orgasm hit. The shadows on the wall seemed to grow larger as you came. The Oracle still stood, as still as ever, gazing out of the doors of the temple. Your fingernails raked into his skin painfully and he sighed as he brought your face to his once more, kissing you deeply. His fingers were out of you within moments as he stood easily from the floor, taking you with him as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His tunic fell away as he stood, leaving you the only one semi clothed. Turning, he walked up the steps to the altar, raked every offering off onto the floor, and laid you gently on your back. You gasped as your hot skin hit the cold surface of the marble, but that did not deter him as he pulled your clothing off completely. He dropped to his knees in front of you as if offering penance to himself, here in his own temple, yet he was worshipping you. Wrapping both arms around your thighs he pulled you into him, burying his face into you as he fucked you with his tongue. Off to the right and higher up, the Oracle still stood motionless next to the sleeping python. The rain still poured outside, semi muted through the stone, but loud on the steps outside. The heat inside of you grew once more as he sloppily ate your cunt; the stone beneath you becoming slicker. Your hands were in his hair, buried deep at the roots, and pulling him harder against you. He moaned against your clit as he flicked his tongue over you. Chills of pleasure rippled through you as your legs closed hard around his head. The small, golden leaves bit into the skin of your thighs but you ignored them. Almost involuntarily, you began moving your hips against him, desperately always wanting more. He moved with you, hands firm on your thighs as his enclosed mouth and tongue worked over your clit. One leg curled in, the ball of your foot digging into the edge as your toes curled, while the other stretched out behind him. Your back arched up off the altar as you came a second time, but he continued eating you out into overstimulation as you pulled at his hair. He came up not a second later, rising from his knees in front of you, and face glistening. The heat still burned in his eyes as he looked down at you, an offering, laid out on his altar.

He leaned down, hands on either side of your waist, as he looked you in the eye.

“Are you a willing sacrifice?”

“Yes,” you muttered between swollen lips.

“Then I give myself to you.”

He filled you up so completely and, in that moment, you had never felt so full. He still seemed to be connected to you not just by body but also something deeper, something that transcended this place. His thrusts were easy, you were so wet he slid inside with ease. He wrapped his arms around your knees, holding your legs up as he fucked you, hitting so deep inside of you it bordered on painful. You cried out as your body slid with each thrust, but he was pulling you back, bouncing you on his cock and starting over again. He let go and leaned down, folding your legs with him as his thrusts slowed but got deeper. Keeping you hanging in a balance of standing right at the precipice and falling over the edge, he kept the torturous pace until you were nearly begging him to go faster. He leaned back once more to let your legs fall to either side of his hips before leaning back down again. He still lazily thrust inside of you as he grabbed some of your hair and brought your face close to his.  

“Such a pretty little bird sacrificing herself to me,” he whispered hotly. Every now and again he’d thrust harder and deeper, causing you to moan, which he seemed to be enjoying immensely.  He reached between the two of you and placed his fingers on your swollen clit. “Now give me another part of you.”

He deepened his thrusts to the point the he was barely moving, ensuring he was brushing over that bundle of nerves each time. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t see, and you couldn’t think.

That’s when the voice resounded in the room. Your eyes fluttered open as you saw the Oracle still staring into the rain, mouth unmoving as a woman’s voice seemed to come from the air, as loud as thunder, and as soft as a bird’s wing.

“The sickness that has wrought this land shall be smote with the rainfall.”

He didn’t even seem to notice that she was speaking as he continued to fuck you, bringing you close to the edge once more. Sweat dripped from his brow to your breasts as he watched your face. Pure ecstasy was laced into your features and he was fascinated by it.

“In three months hence all trace of the disease will be wiped from your people, livestock, and crops.”

He drew his bottom lip between his teeth as he maintained his pace inside of you and on your clit. You opened your eyes to look at him. He glistened in the firelight and he seemed even more god-like as he glowed. The laurels on his head glinted, giving him an even more heavenly appearance. But what you noticed the most was the look in his eyes. He didn’t look at you like a sacrifice, he looked at you lovingly, truly appreciating the offering given to him, and treating it with respect. He wanted you to feel every bit of elation and pleasure that he did. The room dimmed immensely as you came, almost completely tamped down. The ravens both cried overhead as they rose in a flurry of wings and flew out of the temple into the rain.

“And with this sacrifice to Apollo, your land shall never know the touch of disease or famine until the end of your days.”

The snake at her feet uncoiled and stretched to its full length, slithered between his legs as he thrust into you harder now, and out of the temple. The Oracle turned and walked back around the statue and disappeared from the temple once more. The fire in the lamps returned to a dull glow, illuminating the statue with less intimidation. He slowed his thrusts again until they were deep and even. His face was pressed against your shoulder as he gathered you in his arms, holding you closer and reaching his end. Your hands explored every inch of his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath his skin. He held you aloft with one arm as he came, falling forward onto his other hand, holding the both of you up as he rode out his orgasm, thrusting a few more times before he stopped. He breathed heavily against you, still holding you, as silence and rain cloaked the temple once more. He lowered you, gently, back down onto the altar before pulling out of you. He donned his tunic before pulling yours from the floor and holding it. You sat up on the altar and he lightly pulled yours over your head. Softly, he placed a kiss on your forehead before smiling.  

“Brother?” you heard from the doorway.

He turned slightly to look as you too leaned to the side. A woman who looked almost exactly like him, but with much longer hair stood in the doorway. Furs covered her shoulders, leather gauntlets protected her arms, a saffron hunting tunic reached her knees, and a highly detailed carved bow was slung across her back. In every sense of the word she was a hunter, but she seemed a beautiful force to be reckoned with.

“Artemis,” he said simply.

“Are you done?” she asked, eyes scanning you as you sat on the altar. “The ravens preceded your return, but you did not come.”

“I didn’t tell them to leave.”

“You should know your place.” And with that she turned and walked off into the rain, a large hound following behind her.

He turned back to you and smiled sadly, holding your hand in his.

“May your family be blessed by the gods,” he smiled.

“Wait.” You were genuinely confused. Weren’t you his sacrifice? You were expecting him to pull out a golden dagger at any moment and plunge it through your heart. You’d thank him, too, if it meant saving your family.

He let go of your hand in favor of cupping your face in his palms.

“You gave yourself to me,” he whispered against your lips as chills ran up and down your spine, “and that’s all I wanted.”

He kissed you softly, but there was something unsaid behind it; a true reverence in his followers and an appreciation you had never felt before. He let go of you slowly, backing away with a grin on his face and looking at you as if he were trying to remember this. Gods rarely ever crossed a mortal’s path twice. You watched as he grabbed a bottle of wine, took a sip, and sauntered back out into the rain and down the steps.

You sat dumbly on the altar not sure what to do. Do you tell your family? Do you keep it a secret? Maybe the Oracle was wrong. Instead, you trudged back home through the rain, until you reached the village. Going to bed that night, you were unsure if your sacrifice had been enough.

Within the month the barley was growing back better than ever, signs of sickness had been eradicated from the people, and the farmers were sure the livestock would come back from the loss. The sun shined bright each day, glinting off the surface of the sea. Within five months, the village was back to normal again. You still felt the loss of your brother and friends, but you were happy that the suffering was over. From time to time, you’d visit the temple, leaving an offering of your mother’s wine. Each time Apollo would follow behind, grab the bottle, pull the cork, and take a long drink.

With a smile on his face and mischief in his eyes as he thought back on your night together, he’d take another, long drag of the sweet wine. Even with age he still thought you were beautiful.

“Good enough to play kottabos.”

[ashleyswrittenwords]

Hatred

Corrupted!Link Oneshot

Uhhh, @intangiblyyourswrites made me do it. Zelink, sorta.

I’m moving back to college soon so take this as payment for my absence!

(Very small, if you squint, non-sexual noncon thing in here. Also blood cw. Don’t want to spoil it, but if things like that make you uncomfy I wanted to let you know.)

------

The blade was dipped in red.

He died but his smile was no proof of that.

Behind him was hellfire screams as the Calamity burned its hatred for her into the sky. Zelda’s sandals pounded against the grass beyond Fort Hateno, fear reaching her throat. The grasses of Hyrule Field hid its unevenness and the lip of her shoe quickly caught a jagged rock.

Her ankle grew warm with the slick heat. She didn’t bother to check if her skin tore.

For days she was able to evade whatever had become of the Hylian Champion. Calamity Ganon had resurfaced just as the prophecy foretold and Zelda was unable to save anyone. Not even the one who swore to protect her and refused to follow their own fate to save hers.

Footsteps lumbered over to her. The Master Sword was slung over his shoulder lazily and he wore his amusement on his sleeve. The sight of Link always shocked her. Scraps of malice crawled up his limbs and left the clothes he had died in tattered. Zelda couldn’t recall if the blood that marred his tunic was there when he was lifeless in her arms.

“Predictable,” he laughed bitterly. “A failure even in saving your own life.”

Zelda’s chest heaved and she fought her own primal instincts. Red glowing guardians verged on the edge of the field with eyes spinning rapidly around. This man, someone she refused to acknowledge as her friend, didn’t seem to favor them despite their obedience to his whims. She began to believe that their distance was learned from seeing their own kind be victim to his anger.

“How could you say that?” she demanded. “How could you when you’re the one who has told me I was worth so much more than destiny?”

That was when his smile slipped. His bicep flexed as the sword slipped from his shoulder and he held it in a set stance.

“Did you think you could run from me long? Because this game is beginning to bore me.”

Zelda scrambled back, gasping pain when she attempted to put weight on her ankle. The tears that threatened to spill weren’t due to that, however. “You disgust me.”

“There we go, goddess!” Link harked, drawing closer. His hair was carefully drawn back, neater than the last time he had almost caught her. The blue in his eyes was void of any shine they once held, they were darker. “Those are the words that excite me. Pray tell, dear Zelda, what else do I do to you?”

“Your cruelty sickens me,” she spat. Zelda tried to mirror in approach with receding steps, but stumbled from injury. In a second’s time, he sank his sword into the soil and gripped her forearm harshly. She yelped and sagged against him.

His expression was darker, drunk on whatever power was possessing him. “What else?”

“You’re repulsing, vulgar, irreprehensible.”

He forced her hand up to eyesight and wretched it palm down to where he could clearly see three golden triangles growing bright gold against the dark. Against him. The light danced in his eyes, duller than it was days ago - the time between their meetings had blurred as she desperately tried to pull together the severed kingdom. 

Yet containing Calamity Ganon with her magic was taking its toll, especially when it was unpracticed.

Zelda was never a good judge of character when it comes to people. It made her a poor courtier when the court still existed and now she scorned that fact about herself because the expression on his face was indescribable. All good sense and reason her mind could muster told her that this man meant to kill her just as he attempted to when she went to put Link in the Shrine of Resurrection. 

His grip on her was cemented as she tried to pull away, so weak that she couldn’t heal herself.

When he spoke, she flinched. “Do you hate me?”

She tried to search him. Any ounce of what had been was null to a wild, utterly corrupted being. At one point, there was a man who brought her calmness from one single glance. Now, she was kept awake from fear of this new inhabitant. His eyes saw too deeply and there was nothing humane in his mannerisms. This being thrived on sorrow, even more so when he was the source of it. 

Zelda once craved his smile, but now it only spoke of foreboding demise. She should hate him for everything he has done. To wield the sword of legends against his own countrymen was damning enough. Murdering, pilleging, and seeming to enjoy every second. From the second he laid eyes on her, she felt a chilling fear that stays with you. That scratches into your skin and makes you think of it in the darkness of your dreams to convince you illogically that morning will never come.

It was all a game of cat and mouse to him.

She still felt shame to find herself preferring this Link to a dead one… but he was still dead, right? Whoever this was couldn’t possibly be him.

“Yes,” she said, her throat scratchy and dry from overexertion. Green eyes met icy blue. “I hate you. I hate you, but the more I hate you the more I hate myself.”

Pain welled in her heart. How dare he use that body? I dare he take from her and continue to remind her of what could have been?

She yelped as he drug her to eye level.

“Strike me,” Link implored, shaking her slightly. “Just as you did when at the fort. Raise your hand to me and strike me.”

Zelda scowled. “No.”

“Why?”

“I’m not your dog to command.”

He was put off. The reason was beyond her. The man swallowed thickly and tried to look through her. “Do it.”

When she didn’t, he grimaced. His words came out with gravelly anger, “If you hate me, then do it.”

That was when she saw a new kind of rage that bubbled thick and hot. His breath came short and uneven, fanning over her as she stared back defiantly. If he were to kill her now, she wasn’t going to be complacent. 

Then, without warning, he brought his mouth over hers and kissed her. His lips were rough like the way he touched her; completely untamed and only able to take, take, take.

She wanted to lash out, scream at him, anything that would hurt him. But his lips clouded her mind and only the screams from Calamity Ganon brought him away from her. The goddess’s child felt the monster beat against her seal over Hyrule Castle and Link released her. Suddenly without his support, she crumbled to the ground. Above the woman was Link yelling curses towards the cloud of malice.

“Shut up!” he snarled, stopping shortly to listen to words she couldn’t hear. “Does it look like I care?!”

The one-sided shouting match continued to the point where Zelda scrambled to ignore the pulsing of her joints. The Master Sword didn’t reject her when she grasped it, nor did it fight her when she wielded it against its rightful owner and slashed it into his side.

It took everything she had not to follow it into the dirt, spinning slightly to the side with its momentum. Link paused mid-insult, bringing a hand from his side to his face. He stared at the blood as if it were an annoying hindrance instead of debilitating injury, then found her eyes.

First, he smiled a twisted and gnarled grin before devolving into a bout of laughter.

She ran.

[maid-with-sunset-in-her-hair]

Hi! Thanks again for replying. I wanted to ask you that Dany saw the comet in AGOT and took it as a sign for herself. Later she walked into funeral pyre and dragons are born among smoke and salt(tears). Do you think it's about the prince that was promised?

No problem! I like answering your questions, they help me put my thoughts in words. Also this question came just in time, because I was writing some meta about how Daenerys tries to stop herself from weeping, an ingrained response to Viserys’ abuse, so all the instances of her crying are fresh on my mind.

First thing first, while there was a lot of smoke when the dragons were born, she doesn’t cry during Drogo’s funeral. The only mention of tears during that scene is to say that there are none:

Another step, and Dany could feel the heat of the sand on the soles of her feet, even through her sandals. Sweat ran down her thighs and between her breasts and in rivulets over her cheeks, where tears had once run. Ser Jorah was shouting behind her, but he did not matter anymore, only the fire mattered. (AGOT Daenerys X)

I mean, sweat can be salty sometimes, so maybe it counts? Not as poetic as it being tears or the sea, but well... we take what we can get. The last time she cried before the ritual was when she figured out that Drogo was gone:

She raked him with her nails and covered him with kisses and whispered and prayed and told him stories, and by the end she had bathed him with her tears. Yet Drogo did not feel, or speak, or rise.And when the bleak dawn broke over an empty horizon, Dany knew that he was truly lost to her. (AGOT Daenerys IX)

But like, this happens the night before Drogo’s funeral, so I don’t know if it counts? Thanks to Maester Marwyn, we know the prophecy is about bringing back dragons, and that it includes the phrase “born amidst salt and smoke, beneath a bleeding star.” But the phrasing seems to imply that the three things are present simultaneously, not nearly half a day earlier.

Even if we assume that Rhaegar and Melisandre were right and that Dragostone is the place of smoke and salt, because it’s a volcanic island, Daenerys still wasn’t born beneath a bleeding star. And if we interpret it as a metaphorical birth, and not a literal one, Drogo’s funeral pyre has the smoke and the bleeding star but not the salt.

Also, I tend to take everything that Melisandre says with a grain of salt, but:

"(...) He is the Lord's chosen, the warrior of fire. I have seen him leading the fight against the dark, I have seen it in the flames. The flames do not lie, else you would not be here. It is written in prophecy as well. When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone. The bleeding star has come and gone, and Dragonstone is the place of smoke and salt. Stannis Baratheon is Azor Ahai reborn!" Her red eyes blazed like twin fires, and seemed to stare deep into his soul. (ASOS Davos III)

If we assume she’s telling Davos the real prophecy about the prince that was promised, replacing “the prince” with “Azor Ashi” and not adding any fake details, then:

Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow. A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire... mother of dragons, slayer of lies... (ACOK Daenerys IV)

We all agree that these three visions are the three lies she will “slay.” The first one is easy, Stannis is not the real Azor Ahai. But the third one? It’s a dragon of stone.

[foreversillythings]

with the taste of pomegranate on our lips chapter two

part one kore chapter two the sun’s promise

“You seem awfully distracted today,” Rory said, his voice cutting straight through Gale’s musings. Gale startled in his seat and then frowned, fixing the spirit of death with a cold glare.

“Don’t you have work to be doing?” he asked and Rory raised a very annoying eyebrow.

“Don’t you?” he countered and gestured at a stack of documents Gale had yet to even glance at. Gale glared a little harder. “That’s very unlike you,” he continued and Gale breathed sharply through his nose.

“I’m fine,” he said firmly and Rory folded his arms across his chest, his other equally obnoxious eyebrow rising to join the other.

“I’m fine,” Gale repeated. “Now go. There are souls that need reaping.”

Rory rolled his eyes but went, though he did shoot one last wondering glance at Gale as he did. Gale waited until he was sure Rory was gone and then dropped his head into his hands. He was distracted. Ever since yesterday, he could not get her out of his head. Madge. 

The sweet sound of her laughter lingered in his ears, the lovely softness of her voice as she said his name. She had not seemed to feel the chill he brought with him everywhere he went, nor taste the fear that followed always in his wake. She had smiled, as radiant as the sun itself, had melted his chargers as if they were kittens rather than war horses and her eyes, those blue blue eyes, had gazed at him with warmth and wonder, rather than dread and disgust. He had never heard of her before, but he knew she was a goddess, he had felt the power thrumming within her. Who was she? Madge, not only beautiful, but achingly kind, who was this mysterious goddess? 

He tried to shove her away because he knew it would come to nothing. It did not matter who she was, he would not see her again. And even if he did, she was sure to turn from him. Everyone did. Whatever hold she had on him, whatever this enduring fascination, he would see it die. He was the shadow and she the light, they could not coexist. 

And they wouldn’t.

*

Madge asked the flowers outside her home what they knew of Gale, but they couldn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know. She sighed and rubbed their soft petals between her fingers, curiosity like a hunger in her belly. He had haunted her dreams last night and she found herself staring into every shadow, hoping vainly to find him there. Why was she so stuck on him? He was handsome yes, so very handsome, but was that enough to captivate her so? No, she didn’t think it was. Perhaps it was also his sadness, the guarded misery she had seen peeking out through the cracks in the armor he had so obviously built up around himself. Perhaps too the soft way he’d looked at her and spoken, his voice a gentle caress that warmed her skin. Or maybe it was all of it, all of him, burrowing deep and refusing to leave.

I wonder, is he thinking of me too?

“What are you doing here?” her mother’s angry voice demanded, floating around the house on a light breeze. Madge turned but could not see her, nor who she was speaking to. 

“I’ve come to woo your lovely daughter,” a man’s voice replied, smooth like silk. Madge perked up instantly at the thought of meeting someone new before his words sunk in. He has come to woo me? She bit her lip and stood carefully, an odd feeling in her chest. Madge took quiet steps towards the house, each stalk of wheat and blade of grass murmuring encouragement. 

“As have I,” another voice said, boyish and cheery. Madge froze. Who are they? Why have they come for me? She crept forward until she was against the side of the house and moved silently beside the wall until she reached the corner. 

“How did you even know she was here?” Seeder asked as Madge peeked around the edge of the wall, her eyes finding her furious mother first. She stood with balled fists on her hips, her brown eyes molten. 

“From my chariot I can see everything, including the ravishing young Madge,” the first man answered and Madge turned her gaze on him. She swallowed a gasp, her eyes stinging at his radiance. He seemed to glow with yellow light, his golden skin lit up from the inside. He was tall and covered with a fine coating of muscle, his hair the exact colour of the sun above. It waved gently against his neck and he was dressed in very little, just a crown of laurel leaves and a barely there wrap covering his buttocks and genitals. He was lovely to look upon, there was no denying it, but the arrogance carved into his every line muted that beauty until it barely glowed. Madge blinked to erase the spots in her eyes from staring at him and he had to be Marvel, for who else could he be? Marvel was the god of many things, one of which was the sun and this man before her exuded the very same light and warmth of that orb. He had also mentioned a chariot and it was Marvel riding in his chariot that caused the sun to rise every morning, so this had to be him.

“She is not interested,” Seeder said firmly and Madge felt a flush of annoyance. She wasn’t interested in marrying this Marvel, but shouldn’t she have the chance to say so herself? Marvel laughed and flicked blonde hair from his eyes, the smile that settled on his lips plump with hubris.

“I am sure she will reconsider when she sees the gifts I have brought her,” he said and Seeder tensed, her jaw clenching. The other visitor stepped forward and Madge swung her gaze to him.

“I too have gifts,” he said and he was shorter than Marvel, though not by much. He had messy red hair beneath a round hat, freckled skin dusted with a summer tan and a young, boyish face. His smile was wide and friendly, he wore a traveler’s cloak over his sky blue chiton and there were wings on his sandals. Darius then, god of thieves, travelers, trade, athletes and messenger of the gods. She liked him better than Marvel at once, but she did not feel the same flutters Gale had set loose inside her. Seeder scowled.

“We do not want your gifts. Leave now,” she ordered and Darius slumped while Marvel looked down at Seeder with disdain.

“I should like to hear that from the girl herself,” he said and Seeder’s eyes flashed dangerously, all the warmth in the air vanishing and the sun itself seeming to dim. Darius looked around in alarm and Madge could feel the grass between her toes wailing in grief. She bent down to listen better and she could feel the life leaving them, the blades withering around her. It took all her power to keep them alive and she looked back at her mother, menace emanating from her in blood curdling waves.

“Do not try my patience Marvel,” Seeder boomed in a voice that seemed to echo in every direction. Storm clouds gathered overhead and the wind began to howl, its ice slicing through Madge’s clothes. She had never seen her mother like this, her anger a terrifying sight to behold. This then, was the true power of the goddess Seeder.

“We meant no offence,” Darius insisted and elbowed Marvel in the side. “We’ll leave.”

“Yes,” Marvel said slowly, a distant look in his eyes. “But we will not be the only ones. You will lose her soon Seeder,” he pronounced and all the fury drained from her mother, replaced by fear.

“Why? How? Tell me please,” she begged and Madge frowned. Why was her mother acting so strange all of a sudden? Why did Marvel’s words matter so much? 

“Please Marvel, tell me!” her mother pleaded, falling to her knees and Marvel shook his head. He climbed into a golden chariot pulled by horses with flaming manes and picked up the reins, his eyes hard as they fell upon Seeder.

“You have refused my gifts Seeder; I shall not offer you another.”

He snapped the reins and the chariot leapt forward, Seeder crumpling with a wail. Madge stared in shock, her mother’s obvious distress piercing her heart. Why? Why was she so terrified by what he’d said?

And then it came to her.

Marvel was god of many things, the sun being only one.

Another was prophecy.

*

Gale sighed and rubbed his forehead, his mound of paperwork never seeming to diminish. What he wouldn’t give for a day off, but he’d never have one. Death did not stop, not even for its king.

“Oh, I hope I’m not interrupting,” Darius’ voice said from behind him and Gale turned in his chair. In the entrance to his study stood Darius draped in his perpetual good cheer. Gale frowned. If Darius was here, that meant Olympus had a message for him. Those were never good.

“You are,” he said. “What do you want?”

Darius was unperturbed by Gale’s rudeness, but then, he always was. 

“I’ve come for one of your new arrivals,” he explained with a grin. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Brutus has gone a bit overboard with the sea storms and it turns out one of the ships he sank contained Lyme’s newest pet hero. She’s practically frothing at the mouth.”

“I can imagine,” Gale said drily. Lyme was the goddess of wisdom, strategy and crafts, but also the patroness of heroes. She took her duties very seriously and her anger would be doubled with Brutus as the culprit. Their rivalry was an old and seemingly endless one and Gale did not doubt for a moment that Brutus had sunk that particular ship on purpose.

(and he had noticed the uptake in storms at sea, after all, his realm had been flooded all day with newly drowned souls. He wondered if the other gods ever stopped to think about how their actions might affect him, but then, he was pretty sure he knew the answer)

“She’s been kicking up such a fit that Gloss decided it’d be best if we just brought the dead hero back to life. Even Brutus, who denies doing this on purpose of course, is in agreement. Though that might be because Lyme has threatened to enact some rather gruesome vengeance on him.”

Gale rolled his eyes and Darius grinned. “So yes, I’ve been sent to bring him back up to the world of the living. With your permission of course,” he added hastily and Gale barely held back a snort. Why even bother asking his opinion when they clearly expected him to do whatever they asked? They had made this decision without once consulting him and they’d sent Darius down not to ask his thoughts on the matter, but to carry out the task. No, they obviously didn’t think for a moment that he would ever refuse. He was tempted to for that reason alone, just to prove that he could and would. He was lord of the underworld; they could not resurrect a soul without his permission. This was his realm and they had to respect his decisions and wouldn’t it be nice to remind them of that? But he wouldn’t, of course he wouldn’t. He sighed.

“Everything alright?” Darius asked and Gale scowled.

“Yes,” he said and stood. “Come on then, we’ll have to go to the hall of judgment to see where this hero’s wound up.”

Darius nodded and fell into step behind Gale. Torches blazed on the walls as they made their way out of the palace, but there was still some essential brightness that seemed to be lacking. It was the same everywhere in the underworld, not a spark of life to be found. 

“That’s not the only spat happening in our divine family today,” Darius said and Gale blinked.

“Oh really?” he asked without interest and Darius nodded eagerly. 

“Marvel and Seeder almost threw down.”

Gale was not surprised someone was annoyed at Marvel; he was one of the most obnoxious people Gale had ever met. He was a bit surprised at Seeder’s involvement though.

“Why?” he asked, interested despite himself. 

“Well, turns out Seeder’s got this secret daughter she never told any of us about. Can you believe it? Marvel saw her one day when he was flying by in his chariot and apparently she’s very beautiful. So he decided to stop by for a little wooing.”

Gale frowned. “Marvel wanted to marry her?”

Darius snorted. “I doubt it. I think that was just his story to get close to her. Seeder would never let him near her otherwise. I went too. The way Marvel described her; I just had to get a look.”

“And did you?” 

Darius shook his head as they reached the front doors of the palace and stepped outside.

“No, Seeder wasn’t having any of that. She doesn’t want her daughter to marry anyone, which is too bad. If she’s as lovely as Marvel says, I wouldn’t mind having her as a wife.”

The sunlight was weak in the underworld, Marvel’s golden orb struggling to touch a place so far away, and Gale felt a strange kinship with this mysterious girl. Does she want to marry? he wondered or is she happy to have her mother beating away her suitors? Is she lonely kept hidden away from the world?

“You know Marvel though, he doesn’t take kindly to the word ‘no’. They butted heads and I honestly thought she was going to try and smite us right there. Wait, can we be smited? I’m never sure how this immortality thing works. We can be hurt, so can we be killed? And if not, then why can we be hurt? Whatever. Point is, Seeder was furious and scary. Marvel was at least smart enough to leave after that. Though he did pronounce some grave prophecy about her losing her daughter anyway, it really screwed her up. I can’t decide though if it’s real or if he just made it up to get the last word. You never can tell with him.”

“No,” Gale agreed, “you can’t.” 

The Hall of Judgment loomed before them and just as they went to step inside, a sudden impulse pushed words from Gale’s throat.

“What was her name?” he asked and Darius furrowed his brow.

“I think…Madge. Yeah, I think it was Madge.”

*

Time passed slowly for Madge, no new visitors coming by. That prophecy of Marvel’s continued to haunt their home, her mother’s eyes forever fearful. She was more smothering than ever and though Madge understood why, she still found it difficult to breathe. 

How was she to be lost? Was someone going to steal her away? She thought of the nymph Chloris that used to attend her mother; she had been abducted by Zephyrus, the god of the west wind, and never returned. Was that to be Madge’s fate? A prize for some god or brazen mortal, to be ravished unwilling? That was what her mother feared and Madge could not deny it worried her too. She was a goddess yes, but she had never had to defend herself before, she didn't even know how. If only her mother would teach her that, rather than hoping a locked door and constant supervision would keep her safe. 

Madge loved Seeder, of course she did, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little relieved when her mother was called away to a meeting on Mount Olympus. Aspasia and Charmion were under strict orders to keep Madge locked up tight inside, but even still, there was at least some freedom to be found without Seeder around.

And as Madge had already learned, Charmion and Aspasia were not the most vigilant of guardians. 

*

Gale was a fool, a stupid, stupid fool.

Madge had probably forgotten him and even if she hadn’t, she would not welcome him; no one ever welcomed the lord of the dead. Her mother wanted her kept apart from men of any sort and yet here Gale was on his way home from Olympus, making sure to take the same route he’d taken last time. 

He couldn’t stop thinking of her smile, her sunny blue eyes, the warmth in her voice. In all the many days that had passed since their only meeting, his craving to see her again had only grown. He knew it was pointless, knew whatever kindness she had shown him must be a fluke, knew she would reject him as everyone did. But here he was, racing towards that same copse of trees on the slim, stupid chance that her kindness hadn’t been a mistake, that he might be blessed enough to see that smile once again.

What a fool he was.

*

Madge knew she was a fool.

The god of prophecy himself had said she would soon be lost, the last thing she should be doing was sneaking out of the house. And yet the chance for fresh air upon her face was too great to ignore. She would not go far and she would have her plants to tell her of anyone else’s approach, she would be safe. But she needed to get out. 

When Charmion and Aspasia turned to gossip and heady wine, Madge pleaded a headache and went to her bed, her heart racing with rebellion and escape. She waited a few moments and then squeezed out the window into the brilliant sunlight, sighing happily as the wind brushed her face. The grass was soft beneath her feet and she heard their eager voices, each one calling out how they had missed her. She beamed and knelt down, her fingers combing through their verdant blades.

“Oh, I missed you too my friends.”

She stayed there for a moment, her fingers sinking into the soil, until Gale began to flood her thoughts. There was a meeting at Olympus today, would he be there? And would he return the same way he had last time? Indecision warred inside of her and Madge stood, brushing dirt from her peplos. I will wait for only a little while, just in case. Her heart beat was loud in her ears as she walked towards the trees, anticipation and something sweeter filling up her blood. Be vigilant for me, she whispered to her friends, each flower and blade of grass, every tree and stalk of wheat standing to attention. If anyone hoped to come for her, she would hear of it long before they reached her.

I am not helpless Mother, can’t you see that?

Madge stopped as she reached the trees, steadying herself against the nearest one. The shadows stretched out before her, bird song echoed faintly through the branches and any manner of wickedness might be waiting for her inside.

Madge took a deep breath and stepped between the trees.

*

This is so stupid, she won’t be there. You’re setting yourself up for failure. Return to the dead, they are the only ones who want your company.

Gale cursed himself even as he rode onwards, unable to stop the pull in his chest that dragged him on. He knew this was a mistake, he knew it, she wouldn’t-

She was here. 

Gale felt his mouth go dry at the sight of her standing in the dark, a single slice of sunlight through the leaves illuminating her until she filled every corner of his vision. Her peplos was a delicate pink, her skin was still rosy and sun kissed, her blonde hair fell about her shoulders with strings of flowers woven through it and he was ensnared, entirely, completely. Madge turned her head and saw him, his shadow form fading without even a thought. His chariot came to a halt and she smiled, all the breath suddenly stolen from his lungs. She stepped nearer, not a shred of fear or hesitancy in her gait.

Was she waiting for me? She can’t have been, she wouldn’t-

“I’m so glad you came, I was afraid you wouldn’t,” she said and reached out to stroke Aethon’s head, the horse nuzzling into her happily. The others soon crowded forward, all hoping for a touch of her hand and Gale tried to clear his head.

“You were waiting for me?” he asked, still unable to fully process this and she nodded.

“I’ve been hoping to see you again and I thought you might travel this way.”

Gale swallowed and she ducked her head, a dusting of pink crawling over her cheeks. 

“Do you not want me here?” she asked quietly and his heart lurched. 

“No, I mean, I do. I…I had hoped to see you again too.”

He surprised himself by admitting it and she looked up, a truly radiant smile blooming across her face. Even though he knew this couldn’t end well, they were part of two entirely different worlds after all, he would never regret the sight of that smile. She released the horses and came towards him, his pulse starting to speed up beneath his skin. She rested her hands on the edge of his chariot and grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling. 

“Will you come down? If we’re going to talk, I’d rather not break my neck to do it.”

He nodded a little jerkily and dismounted, embarrassed at himself. He was acting like a newborn deer on shaky legs, he had to get a hold of himself. Madge spun to face him, her skirt flaring out and he did not mean to stare, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

“How was Olympus?” she asked and he shook himself. He wasn’t some fluff headed youth, he was a god and a king. He knew how to talk to a woman. 

“The usual,” he grunted with a shrug and maybe he didn’t. Maybe he’d forgotten. Or maybe the women of his past had merely pitied him. Madge laughed.

“You’re so very eloquent. Even still, I think I would like to visit. I am so tired of the same old places. I’ve never been farther than these trees.”

He frowned and remembered Darius’ words, a strange pang happening in his stomach. 

“Your mother does not allow you to?” he asked and she shook her head.

“No, she fears I may be taken away by some brute.”

“And you? Do you not fear that I might be that brute?’

Madge bit her pretty pink lip and shook her head, her hands lacing behind her back.

“No. I wouldn’t be here if I did.”

Gale swallowed and looked away, the trust in her eyes making his stomach curl around itself. 

“That is a surprise. I do not have the best reputation.”

“Well, I suppose that’s the benefit of such a sheltered upbringing. I know little of anyone’s reputation,” she said and he couldn’t stop his lips quirking into a smile. He lifted his eyes and she was grinning too, her body leaning towards his. He should say something now, something suave or charming, something funny or flirtatious but words would not come. He stood there, useless and stupid, and thankfully his horses saved him, the four of them whinnying and pawing at the dirt. Madge looked over at them and laughed.

“I think they feel left out,” she said and moved over to pet them, Aethon and Orphnaeus nuzzling greedily into her hands and chest. The others stamped their feet and Madge turned back to Gale with a smile. 

“You’ll have to help; I do only have two hands.”

Gale blinked several times before jolting into action, his hands reaching for Alastor and Nyctaeus. Madge hummed softly and Gale couldn’t help but watch her, the sight of anyone being so affectionate with his horses truly bizarre. His chargers tended to inspire terror in any who saw them and yet here Madge was, cooing and stroking their heads. 

“I suppose I will have to go soon,” she sighed and Gale felt his stomach tighten. He looked determinedly at Alastor, his spirits sinking.

“Do you think…is there some way we might speak again?” she asked and Gale turned so fast he heard his neck crack. She had stilled her petting, her fingers knotted in Orphnaeus’ mane, and she would not look at him, her eyes cast down to her feet. She wanted to speak to him again? Truly? Gale cleared his throat.

“Well, we do tend to have these meetings fairly regularly. I...I could come back this way again."

Madge looked up at him with a shy smile.

"I would like that. I love hearing stories and I am sure you have a great many to tell."

Gale licked dry lips and Madge picked up her skirt and hurried to the edge of the trees. She stopped for a moment and turned, the sun's rays beaming all around her.

"Goodbye Gale," she said with a smile and hurried out across the meadow. He lurched forward and stood between the trees, his hands clutching the rough bark and his eyes following her home.

"Goodbye Madge."

*

Madge crawled back in through her window and fell into bed with a smile upon her face. She placed her hands over her heart and sighed, Gale still warm inside her thoughts. She felt alive in a way she never had before and she could not wait to see him again. 

Her mother thought to keep her caged here, but Madge was not meant for a life locked up tight behind four walls. Just like her plants, Madge was meant to thrive in sunshine. And she would. Meeting Gale, talking with him, they were just baby steps, but they were enough.

One day, Madge would see the world. 

[whenhelbreaksloose]

One Heck of a Beginning

Disclaimer: I do not own Disney characters, I do not own or represent Disney. I make no money off of this. The only think I get from it is embarrassment and exposing poor unsuspecting people to my obsession, stories and characters.

A/N: This is perhaps my first story that I have written. I've been in love with the show and movie ever since I was a kid and it really began my lifelong obsession with Myth. This story takes place a few years after the Movie, and makes heavy references to the show as well as history and other mythologies. It is very heavily influenced by the episode Twilight of The Gods, and so a lot of the scenery will take place in Germany.

Rated T for minor language and violence

____________________________________________________

Things have quieted down years later. Quite a few years later since… The incident. The incident of all incidents. Should it really be called an incident? The word Incident really seems to be downplaying what happened. What about Titan cataclysm? Would that work? No? Well anyways, time had passed since that cataclysmal event. Titans were taken care of, gods were punished, maybe redeemed, but this is not that kind of story. This is a story of something completely different. This is a story about misunderstandings.

Just as Apollo began his journey across the sky it became routine for the no longer young Hercules to wake up at dawn break, jog a mile, and pick up the newspaper. He was always back just in time for when Meg woke up. He could not even shut the door quietly behind him before the sound of sandaled feet running towards him accompanied by a squeal of "Dad! Dad!" hit him followed by the sensation of a tiny body running into him from behind. The impact startled him more than any force his son Hyllus could throw at him.

"Woah, hey Hyllus, remember what I said about keeping it down while Mom is asleep?" He whispered and picked up the boy letting the kid drape himself over his shoulder. "Dad!" Hyllus quickly lowered his voice, "Dad, there's some bar-"

"I'm awake but it's the thought that counts." Meg spoke while leaning against the doorway holding a small krater of coffee in her hand.

He smiled weakly and sat Hyllus back down on to his feet. "Sorry." He stepped towards her leaning in to place a kiss on her but she stepped away.

"We got company." She nodded her head towards the other room with a smile.

He blinked, his blues eyes falling onto the door way and just hovering in the opening. Hercules recognized the hovering blue god before him, or at least he did. He almost mistook him for Hermes but it was the tiny beard on his chin and furs that gave it away. Hercules squinted at the familiar and near identical messenger. "Herm-?"

"Hermond." The northern messenger finished, "Remember me? Of course you do! It's been a while!"

"Oh right! Hermond! From the Norse Pantheon! I remember now." Hercules slapped the side of his head. It had been more than a decade since he had put an end to the Ragnarok prophecy. "What brings you here? Is everything okay? Should we get you anything?"

"No, no but thank you. I was just stopping by to deliver this invitation to Oktoberfest. Odin extended an invitation to Zeus and Hera this year and they suggested that maybe you and the family would enjoy the festivities. Odin also sends his belated congratulations on achieving your divinity-" He adjusted his glasses as Herc scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "Although, it seems you are currently without it. Not a problem since the festivities will be held on Midgard in Munich. Not bad this time of year, and I hear it's really growing a marvelous art community. You really-"

"Thank you. Thank you for the invite." Meg cut off. Something did not feel right, not that she didn't trust the machinations of all powerful deities, well actually, she didn't trust the hidden machinations of all powerful deities. "And we really appreciate it but, you know Hyllos, here is about to start school soon, and-"

Herc gave her a confused look. Hyllus' school didn't start for a couple of weeks, and he couldn't see anything wrong with the very promising idea of a small vacation, and festival. "I thought school wasn't for another couple of weeks.."

"Yeah mom! It's not yet! I can go too!" Hyllus spoke up.

Meg bent down to grab his hand and pull him aside. "Oh kay, You remember what I said about conveniently jumping into the middle of adult conversation and how you really shouldn't do that? Also you need to pick up your room, I don't think you made your bed yet and I can tell you didn't brush your teeth." She looked up as Hyllus pulled away with a pout and trounced off to his room. Her worried purple eyes meeting her husband's. It was then he knew something was wrong, so he turned to Hermond.

"I, just got to speak with the missus, I'll be right back with an answer."

Hermond nodded to him, letting the demi-god break disappear into the kitchen.

"Okay, what is wrong? I can stay here if you like, but I really don't see anything wrong Meg. They're good people."

Meg sighed, looking up at him. Something felt off, like things could go wrong. "I know, I know. It's just that, you know, whenever you get called for these kinds of things, trouble rears it ugly head and you run off rushing to adventure."

"Meg, I'm a Hero."

"I know, and I don't have a problem with that, it's just that we have a kid now."

His shoulders dropped as he realized the weight of keeping not just her safe but their son as well. "Okay. You're right." He sighed and turned to let the blue God know, "I'll let him know, we got too much to take care of at the moment."

Meg frowned, seeing that perhaps Herc missed out on adventuring, and maybe she was being just a little paranoid. Before he could leave the room, she spoke up.

"You know, I don't really have a problem with you going."

He stopped, looking to her smiling face. "why don't you invite a friend, or the old goat. I can take Hyllos shopping, and maybe even make it a day to spend at your parent's house kind of thing."

'Are you sure?" He asked, a smile returning to his face, knowing that despite how she felt, she was willing to put forth an effort to make him happy. "I mean, you don't have to do this, I-"

She punched him playfully in the shoulder. "Go on, Wonderboy, go have your fun. Invite a couple of friends or even the old goat. Make it a guy's night if you want to."

"Are you sure?"

"Go! Go have fun you dork."

Herc snorted through his nose, "Dork? Okay, I'll let Hermond know." Before he headed back into the living room, he turned back to her. "I love you."

_______________________________________________________

Prior to the festival, Hercules could think of no one else to invite other than his long time friend Icarus, and Philitetes, although it took a little convincing for the old goat. He was not too keen on the snowy place, or the possibility of being stuck rhyming again but the promise of seeing the valkeries and a festival of drinking and eating was not to be passed up. It had been years since he had been to Germany, and this time it wasn't completely that cold. Snow had barely fallen. By barely fallen, that means there was about a foot of snow. So not bad at all!

When the three of them got off of Pegasus, they stood in the middle of town in awe. Well Not entirely awe, for you see, the town of Munich was possibly one of the largest Barbarian towns he had ever seen. Meaning that instead of about nine huts, there were possibly double that. As for a thriving art scene, it was a few stalls selling Kuckoo clocks, carvings of bears, and some musicians blowing away on horns.

Phil slapped his forehead and yelled, "It's just a dump again!"

"WOAH! They got the old world old school charm!" Icarus yells, clasping his head. "You probably haven't heard about it." He changes his voice and flicks his scarf around his neck, now donning a new persona, "It's really obscure."

"Oh, I didn't realize being out of date and rundown was obscure!" Phil yelled back, face reddening. His hand flourishes and lands on his chest, "Oh pardon me!"

"Well, I guess it's not so bad, it kind of have its charm." Herc says trying to calm his satyr mentor, but he was partially distracted as he dug through his satchel, pulling out a scroll. He would not have to work too hard to distract the old goat because a dozen damsels wearing dirndls daintily dawdled down towards the center square.

"Yeah, I see it now. This town really does have its charm." Phil rubbed his hands together while his tongue hung out. "Don't wait up for me boys! I'll join you later!" And in an instant, he was off trotting after the ladies.

"Wait! Phil!" Icarus yelled, waving his hands frantically but not giving chase, "You forgot your invite!"

Herc looks down to the scroll in his hands and compares it to the sun. "Well we have some time to wander around before joining my parents later on. We'll bump into him again. In the meantime, let's take a look around." And so the two of them wandered around the festivities, helping themselves to drinks, music and the sights. One of the sights led them towards a street filled with markets.

"Oh Herc! We need to stop there! I promised Dadalus that I'd bring back a souvenir!"

Icarus ran off excitedly down the street, which would not have been much of a problem for Herc to run after him except he felt a smaller hand on his shoulder .

"There you are! Herc babe I've been looking everywhere for you!"

The demigod whirled around expecting Hermond but instead found Hermes.

"Oh! Hermes! Sorry we were searching for where to meet you guys later, we just got a bit distracted."

Herc turned his head back to look for his friend but had managed to lose his friend already.

"Oh that's fine babe, the shindig isn't until later on tonight and you got time, if you got time, I got someone that would like to speak with you. It shouldn't take long."

Herc raised his eyebrows and looked over his shoulder again. He was sure Icarus was a grown man and quite frankly this town wasn't really all that big, he figured he could easily find him again. "Oh of course. I don't see right-"

One minute he was in the market place and the next he was by a cordoned off area standing before a large armored god standing between them and the stanchion that lead to the section reserved for the divine.

"We're just checking in to speak with Tyr and Balder, Heimdall." Hermes assured the all-seeing God.

Heimdall looked down to his list to mark them off, but in the meantime, Hercules' eyes spotted two younger deities, that looked not much older than thirteen. One was bright white with golden hair carrying a large sword while the other standing opposed to him had much darker tones of purple and black hair. He couldn't hear what was being said but it was enough to make the purple one storm off into a wall of shadows. Hercules frowned. Something felt worrying, and something about the exchange seemed way too familiar. The younger white god turned around to approach a much older one with one arm sitting at a table.

"Herc! C'mon let's go!"

He followed after the blue messenger towards a long table set up next to an open space with archery targets, weapons and shields lined the outside of it. The two gods looked up to them, the younger white one even waved with a week smile.

"Tyr, god of Wars and Balder young god of Heroes and light, I bring you Hero of Greece and son of Zeus, Hercules." Hermes winced as he heard something, someone with a long beard and penchant for zapping people with thunder bolts was calling him not too far away. "Oh! I'll be right back, I got to take this one!" And the blue god was gone before the three other males could blink.

Tyr stood up and held his hand out to shake Hercules' hand, "Pleased to formerly meet you. Thank you for meeting with us. Shame we hadn't met sooner. I would have loved to challenge you after you defeated Thor. " Tyr motioned to the younger white god, "Had to be training Balder here." He slapped a hand on Balder's shoulder, causing the teen to jolt forward a bit.

Hercules shook Tyr's hand, feeling a bit taken by this war god's courteous yet boisterous attitude. "Um, Thanks I guess, but honestly, it's rather embarrassing.."

"Eh, don't beat yourself up over it. Loki has pulled a fast one on everyone on Asgard." Tyr's voice lowered as glanced sideways, "It was only a matter of time before he moved on to some new victims anyways." Tyr straightened up, picking his cheeriness back up. "Well, he's locked away in Nifleheim, being tortured forever now, so no need to worry about that now!"

Hercules laughed nervously and looking down to Balder who had his arms crossed and looked off to the side. The young god looked up at the demigod for a second, and the guilty was quickly replaced by a cheerful smile. Hercules instantly recognized that of a guilty child attempting to hide something. He wasn't here to bust the kid's chops though.

"Training huh?" Herc asked. "What kind of training? Is it for being the God of heroes?" It was a bit strange to him that a young god that had to be trained was already being declared a god of heroes.

Balder looked down to the side and smiled a bit, "Something like that."

Tyr rested his heavy stump of an arm on Balder's head, "About that! I understand you have since retired from the Hero-ing business, but Balder here, has been prophesied to be our god of heroes but he's been having a bit of problem-" And now all the charm that Tyr previously had began to wither away as he leaned into Herc, "He's got a bit of a flinching problem.. Even tries talking to his foes."

Balder's cheeks brightened into a warm glow as he pouted.

"Well, what's wrong with that?"

That question made Tyr stop and blink as his brain tried to determine whether Herc was joking or not. Balder peeked upwards at the demigod, the glow in his cheeks fading.

The awkward silence was broken up by the ground giving a small shake beneath their feet.

[rla1994]

Chapter 4, noooo

What am I doing?! I should be sleeping right now!!!

Again don’t own anything

A heavy silence fell upon the room after Poseidon’s revelation. The blond haired judge turned towards Kanon. “Are you sure?” Kanon nodded. “Yes. The Grand Pope has recently ordered more armors to be forged for the lower class soldiers and he has increased the mandatory training time.”  The brothers looked at each other, having a silent conversation. Poseidon nodded as they broke contact. “I’ll begin searching for my marinas and train them so that we are ready to assist at any time.” 

Persephone sighed. “Are we even sure it will escalate to a war? Can’t we stop it before it happens?” Her husband took her hand in his and looked into her eyes. “If we could, we would, my Dear.” His tone was uncharacteristically soft as he spoke to his long time wife. “Hey, i’m sorry to break this sweet moment,” Kanon said. “but you keep speaking about a prophecy about me. I’d like to know what it is.” The couple looked back at the angel. After some time,Hades spoke up. “It said that, when the angel Kanon falls and Athena dies, a new Celestial war will befall upon the world.” 

The fallen fell silent. “So when I was cast out, I basically signed you all up to die. ‘When the angel Kanon falls and Athena dies’.” He was silent for a bit, not paying attention to the preparations Hades was making with his generals. Realization suddenly struck him. “Wait!” Hades was about to reprimand him when the angel cut him off. “The prophecy says :’when the angel Kanon falls and Athena dies’. Athena has not died, not yet at least.” 

Poseidon frowned at his soldier. “What are you talking about? Athena died during the Celestial wars.” Kanon nodded. Everyone looked at him, waiting for him to explain. When he was sure he had everyone’s attention, the fallen proceeded to reveal something only a selected few among the angels knew about. Athena had reincarnated herself into the body of a human girl to experience what it was like to be human. This information changed everything. If they could prevent the false Grand Pope from killing the reincarnated Athena, they could prevent the war. 

The three gods calculated, that with how long it took for a god to heal from a ‘death’, Athena would have gone into the human world about 15 years earlier. Poseidon would look for her while assembling his army, while Hades and his Judges would look into the souls to see if any of them had had any contact with Athena’s reincarnation. Now with a concrete plan and Persephone satisfied that war could be avoided, Poseidon and Kanon teleported back to Atlantis.

It was late at night. Poseidon dismissed Kanon and ordered him to get some sleep. They would begin their preparations tomorrow. Kanon retreated to his quarters. Once there, he sat down on the chair in his bedroom, looking out of the window. The angel fell deep in his thoughts. He had managed to convince the gods that they could avoid an all-out war, but had Athena really reincarnated? He had not been meant to hear that information. It had been a coincidence that he had been walking past the Grand Pope’s study when the old man had divulged this small but important piece of information. The only other one who knew was the other ancient among the angels, Dohko. He really hoped it was true and that he would not have to fight his old companions, not that he really cared about them, he just didn’t want to be on opposite sides with Milo or his brother. 

His brother... He’d cast him out because he’d been suspicious of the Grand Pope, when confronted Saga had called him a liar and accused him of treason. But Kanon knew the old man and the current leader of the angels was not the one who had taken his time learning about him and Saga just to make them trust him, he was not the one who would open his door in the middle of the night because one of his soldiers had a nightmare, no matter their rank or age, but more importantly he was not the one who had taken his time to help him understand even the most basic of lessons or who had answered whatever question plagued him at anytime of the day or night. No that man was gone and in his stead was a cold-hearted man who would let his troupes die before he’d let them look in his eyes. He even wore a mask! It was obvious some had killed the old man and taken his place, but who? He just couldn’t figure it out! No angel was cruel enough to do something like that but the usurper was clearly an angel and a strong one at that. The only ones with that kind of strength were Dohko, Aioros and Saga. Dohko and Aioros were out of question, the first one would not kill his friend no matter what, and the latter had no interest in power nor war, all he wanted was a safe and happy world for his little brother, Aiolia. As for Saga, Kanon could not believe he was suspecting him, but he had been acting strange, he had seemed more on edge, always looking over his shoulder. He sincerely hoped he was wrong but Saga was a master of illusions and mind control just like him. He was the only one who could pull out something like this. But Kanon could not understand what would make his twin do something like that. Saga had admired Shion for his strength, his patience and his fatherly attitude towards all angels. Saga aspired to be Shion, so why would he kill him and take his place?

Kanon was growing more and more frustrated by the second. Knowing he would not get any answers, he decided to go to sleep and work more on it tomorrow. Maybe he’d be able to contact Milo through their shared link?

He woke up the next morning to light glaring in his eyes. Kanon groaned as he got up and moved to the bathroom to take a quick shower. Dressed, he made his way to the dining-room where Poseidon was already eating while looking through some files. “Good morning, sunshine.” The god was in a good mood, it seemed. He chuckled as the only reply he got from the angel was a groan as the younger one seated himself at the deity’s right. “My,my, someone’s in a bad mood today.” Poseidon smiled. Ah he had missed this. The entertainment that came with having some else living with you. Ever since his wife, disappeared Zeus knows where. Oh, how he missed Amphitrite sometimes, he hoped she would return to him soon. “I’ve been thinking about who could be the impostor.” The god sapped out of his thoughts as he heard Kanon talk. “I think it’s my brother, Saga.” Poseidon’s eyes opened wide. The angel suspected his own brother? “That’s a bold accusation, even for you.” The fallen merely shook his head. “He’s the only one I can think of who could do something like that and who could pass it off as normal. And if it wasn’t him, why would he cast me out?” The more the god listened to, the more it made sense. It was clear the angel didn’t want to believe it as much as Poseidon did. “If what you say is true, we must inform my brother immediately.” The ruler of Atlantis stood up, he handed the files he had in his hands to his general. “Go look into those people, I believe they might be marinas. I will warn my brother and see if that changes anything.” The sea dragon nodded.  

Kanon walked back to his room where he had left his armor the day before. The armor was composed of two armbands, one on each arm, with a pair of gauntlets. He wore a muscled breast-plate that ended with leather bands that covered him, a bit, till right above his knees. His knees and his shins were covered by a pair of greaves. He wore a pair of sandals at his feet. The back,of the breast-plate had two large slits for his wings. As to not by bothered by them all the time, angels and demons alike could retract their wings into their bodies, they would just manifest themselves as tattoos on their backs. The armor was made of a sturdy metal and coated in gold, the leather straps were color in the same Egyptian blue as his sheets, it seemed to be Poseidon’s color. The symbol on his left breast was painted in the god’s color. Underneath the armor, he wore a typical tunic, with again slits for his wings. He had no sheath attached to his armor, as it was custom for celestial beings to fight bear-handed, rare were those who fought with weapons, and even then they mostly didn’t use them.

 Picking up the stack of files he had set on his bed when entering, the general and commander of the armies began his work to create the army he was supposed to command. The first one was a man named Baian, a Canadian human of unknown mother. Poseidon had written something on top of the file: ‘possibly nephilim’. Interesting, he had never met a half-angel half-human child. He found the man’s address on his file and teleported at the potential candidate’s house. Kanon arrived in the middle of his living room, standing on the now broken coffee table. The host was shocked to suddenly have a tall armored man standing on the rests of his coffee table. Kanon looked down at the nephilim. He was a tall brunette with blue eyes. His eyes were open wide and he was gaping making him look like a fish out of waters. Kanon chuckled. “Closed your mouth, you’ll swallow a fly. Sorry for the coffee table.” The angel moved to sit in front of the one he’d be potentially recruiting into his army. “Do you know what I am?” As the other nodded, Kanon asked. “Do you know what you are?” Another nod. “Good, that will save me some time. I am here to recruit you as one of Poseidon’s marinas. Do you understand?” The other gave an hesitant nod. Kanon searched for the little orb Poseidon had given him to see who was meant to be in his army and who wasn’t. “Okay, so hold this.” He handed the orb to Baian. “Now if it glows, you’re in.” Nothing happened for a few seconds before a pale blue light emanated from the object. Kanon smiled. “Welcome, Baian. You are our first soldier, beside me of course. By the way, I’m Kanon, the sea dragon general and the commander of the army.”

The angel took back the orb before standing up. “Now before we go back to Poseidon, we have to check which ones among those files are also soldiers. Seeing as I’m not going to just send you to Atlantis on your own, you’re going to come with me, okay?” The fallen did not wait for respond from the nephilim before he grabbed him and teleported them to the next candidate.

Finished, for now ^^

Ps: for those who haven’t realized it yet, what is sometimes written next to the chapter is not related to the chapter in itself but more towards my feelings for it. i.e. today, it is because I should have been sleeping instead of writing it.

Link to ao3 below, as always: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17670578/chapters/41717552

[eternityunicorn]

Elijah’s Eternity: Part Eight

Author: eternityunicorn 

Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Warnings: Violence, Language, Smut (*Smut chapters marked +18)

Summary: Elijah Mikaelson didn’t know what to expect when he encountered the strange archer in the night, but he certainly didn’t think his whole world would be turned upside down by it. Yet, he quickly learns that she is more than what she seems, having come looking for an Original after a large spike in supernatural being populations started cropping up on Earth a thousand years ago. Now, he must help her decide if the supernatural community should stay on their home planet or leave it for good? A task that is made more complicated along the way, as his life is changed forever.

———————————————————————————————————

Elijah and Eternity walked over to the diner for breakfast, which would be the last meal they would have at the place. A place that held meaning to them both. They had sat in the same corner booth, away from prying eyes. The older woman that had served them the first time had been their waitress. She looked at Eternity with the same awe as she had then, performing that awkward curtesy and bow of her head with every one of Eternity’s requests. Then she would scamper off quickly in order to fulfill Eternity’s order - and his too.

The meal had been pleasant. Unlike before when their conversation had been stranger to stranger, serious and to the point, this time their conversation was light and full of quiet laughter. They showed their affection for each other openly as well. He would reach for her hand, holding it while they ate. She would lovingly smile and kiss his knuckles sweetly in return. It felt like they had been lovers for decades, despite that not being the case.

After the last meal at the diner, they discussed their destination and then returned to the manor one last time. From there, Elijah left Eternity standing on the steps of the manor to go around to the back where the garage was located and fetch his car. 

Since staying in the small Maine, he hadn’t had need for it as everything was within walking distance, but of course, he had kept it handy in case he had to leave town for any reason. From the garage, he pulled the sleek black Bentley around to the front to collect his lady. 

Leaving it running, he stepped out of the car and went around to the other side to open the passenger side door for Eternity. She gracefully floated down to him, redressed in a flowing yellow sundress and a pair of heeled white sandals. He watched her as she stood before the car looking impressed by it. 

“Beautiful car,” Eternity said appreciatively.

“Yes, it is,” he smirked pridefully, holding his hand out to her in order to guide her into the car.

A look of mischief crossed her delicate features then. Without warning, Eternity darted off to the driver’s side of the car, it’s door still open. She grinned widely at his bewildered express. He hadn’t expected her to go for the driver’s side. By the way she looked, she wanted to drive it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He inquired, hanging his arm on the car’s roof while looking at her incredulously.

“Get in,” she answered without hesitation. “I’m driving.”

He didn’t comply. “Do you even know how to drive?”

“Aye. Though a portal would certainly be faster.”

“Portal?”

Eternity nodded, “It’s the standard way of traveling for immortals: a wormhole that leads directly to one’s destination.”

“Fascinating,” responded Elijah. “What makes you think I’m about to let you drive?”

She smirked playfully, “I am a queen. I outrank you. Therefore, you must comply with my wishes.”

He chuckled with a shake of his head, but relented. It wasn’t as though he could argue against her when she pulled the ‘queen’ card, even jokingly so. “As my lady wishes,” he said, “but if your driving skills are atrocious, you are pulling over and I’m taking back my car. I will not have this work of art destroyed, not even by your queenly self.”

“Of course,” she agreed with a laugh. “As you wish, my lord.”

With another slightly shake of his head, Elijah climbed into the passenger seat, hoping all the while that he hadn’t made a terrible mistake. He knew they would be fine if something went wrong, but he really like his car and didn’t want anything to happen to it. 

Luckily for him, Eternity really did know how to drive a car. Even better, she knew how to drive a manual car. She didn’t even need his guidance at any point, driving down the road as anyone with a lifetime of experience. Her driving was smooth and flawless. It made him curious about her experience with cars.

“I learned a long time ago, when cars were first invented,” she answered his curious thoughts. “From there, I kept up with the times, as they say. With each better made car, I learned how to drive it. A    hobby of mine since I don’t actually need to know how to drive. I just happen to like all things human. They are ingenious creatures with the marvels they are capable of - and without magic. It’s impressive.”

“I agree,” he replied, looking out the window at the scenery that blew past them. “I’ve seen the marvels of humanity as they were invented for the past thousand years. They never cease to amaze. To watch humanity progress has been an honor, one positive to a long life.”

They fell into a short companionable silence from there. The roar of the engine and the quiet music of the radio were the only sounds for a time. 

Then Eternity’s lightly laugh filled the cab as she said, “I have a cousin, who also appreciates the human world as I do, except she could never master the operation of human inventions, certainly not a car.” She grinned a little at whatever memory was dancing around her head. “It was always quite amusing a sight.”

Eternity had Elijah’s full attention then, not that she hadn’t before. He was always aware of her. It was just that she hadn’t mentioned a family member before, that he knew of anyway. Though in all honesty, the woman she had mentioned before, Ceres, could have been a family member for all he knew of Eternity. 

“Ceres was my ancestor,” she again answered his thoughts. “My great-great-great grandmother to be exact.”

“Was?”

“Aye, she died using what has been dubbed the Unicorn Crystal, the ultimate power of the universes,” explained Eternity. “It was what she used to split the one universe into two. It takes a lot of energy, life energy to use. No queen that uses its full power once lives to use it a second time, except for myself, that is.”

Elijah was taken aback by her words. A power source strong enough to split a universe in two was incredible enough, but to learn that said power source killed it’s user in the process, and yet the woman beside him was strong enough to do what her predecessors couldn’t was unfathomable. It was damn near unbelievable. He couldn’t get his mind around such an idea; of a creature that powerful. It was impossible for an Earth man like him to grasp. Especially since she was extraordinary to be sure, but didn’t give off any indication of that kind of power capability. He expected someone of that magnitude to be less...humanlike.

“For me, a prophecy predicted my destiny as the crystal’s true master long ago. The crystal is a part of me, imbedded in my heart,” Eternity carried on, her hand touching her chest where her heart was. “Though it’s true I cannot die from using it’s full power, it is still best to use caution when to use it.”

“Why is that?”

“I forget myself completely. It’s like being rebooted - starting over; a dangerous prospect for the Universal Queen, as much as dying in fact.”

“I see. Are you absolutely certain that you are not a goddess? Because it sounding more and more like that to me.”

Eternity shook her head and smiled at him quickly, “Still not a god.“

“I think you might be in denial,” jested Elijah.

She laughed lightly as her attention returned to the road, “No, I think not.” Then she looked thoughtfully, “Although, I suppose it’s all about perspective. For example, in some worlds, there have been religions created around me because of some great deeds I did for the people of those worlds. This is even amongst immortal ones. I detest it, but I also cannot control people’s perspectives - how they see me.”

“No, none of us can do that,” agreed Elijah.

Then once more, quiet fell between them. 

Until Eternity heard a certain song come over the radio, that is. She began singing softy along in perfect harmony with the artist’s singing. It was a dramatic rock song fronted by a female with classically trained talent. Both women’s voices were angelic and Elijah found himself enjoying the entertainment, even if rock music wasn’t a genre he preferred. Niklaus did though, he recalled. No, he preferred the classical music of Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart, along with other orchestral masterpieces. Yet, he enjoyed listening to Eternity belting out the lyrics to the haunting rock beat nonetheless.

She continued to sing to the radio as they headed into the next state: New Hampshire. It was as soon as they were over the border that Elijah noticed the line of police and emergency vehicles on the shoulder of the highway. The officers were heading out into the woods that lined the highway. He found himself mildly curiosity as to what has happened, but hadn’t expected to stop and find out.

Eternity had other ideas, however. Immediately she pulled onto the shoulder a little ways ahead of the rescue vehicles. She parked and cut the engine, tossing them haphazardly to Elijah. Then she opened the car door and moved to exit without a word, when he caught her hand to stop her.

“What are you doing?” He asked, not that he couldn’t guess the answer.

“I’m a guardian, a hero, whatever you wish to call it,” she replied quickly. “There is a abducted little boy in the woods out there. His kidnapper is with him, no doubt intending to hurt the child. I can save him and I will. You can accompany me, if you’d like, to deal with the perpetrator. Or you can stay here and I’ll deal with both. The choice is yours, but I’m going.”

With that, she left the vehicle, leaving Elijah to make his choice. 

In reality, there wasn’t any choice. Of course, he was going to go with her. Therefore, he too climbed out of the car and followed behind her into a different section of the woods from the rescue crew. He trailed right behind her, following Eternity through the wall of foliage until they reached the heart of the woods, where it opened up. 

It was under a large oak tree there in the clearing that they found the boy - and his kidnapper. The child was sitting against the tree looking up at his assailant with fear in his large blue eyes. He was malnutrition, dirty, bruised, and the scent of blood permeated the air around him, meaning he was wounded too. 

The kidnapper stood over him. He was a tall, thin man, who was clean cut with graying slicked back hair and a nearly trimmed gray beard. He wore dress pants and a tucked in polo shirt. Upon close inspection, there was a level of resemblance between the two and if Elijah had to guess, they were most likely father and son. The similarities were too obvious for them not to be.

The man had a weapon in his hand - a large hunting knife! There was blood staining the silvery metal of the blade. Neither the boy or the man seemed to notice their approach, but they may have been in part due to the stealth that Eternity and he had used to find them.

Elijah watched as pathetic human moved toward the boy with the knife, looking as though he was preparing to finish the child off. It was that moment that would define the fate of the boy. Of course with a vampire and a goddess on the scene, the boy would be fine.

“Stop!” Eternity shouted at the perpetrator. 

The man did, startled into acknowledging that he wasn’t alone. His blue eyes were wide with fear like the child’s and it was immediately made obvious to Elijah that he wasn’t all together, that madness had crept into him. The madman turned his weapon toward Eternity, whom stood perfectly still before him, unperturbed.

“Put the knife down,” she commanded softly. 

He didn’t. 

Though, despite his maddened state, his instinct seemed to recognize her otherworldliness all the same. He stood in fearful awe of Eternity. Elijah could see tears forming in the man’s eyes at the very sight of her.

“Put the knife down,” she commanded again in that same steady softness.

This time, the madman did throw the knife down. He acted as if it had burned him. Sobs bubbled up in the man’s throat, as he began to take steps backwards away from them both. Then forgetting the boy all together, the perpetrator turned and ran for it, trying to escape. A mistake to be sure, Elijah inwardly smirked.

Before he could give chase, Eternity grabbed his arm and told him with quiet seriousness, “Catch him, but do not kill him.”

It was a command of a queen, one that left no room for disobedience. He nodded in understanding and took off after the man with his vampire speed. It didn’t take long for him to catch up, finding the man sprawled on the ground a short distance away from the crime scene, after having tripped on a tree root. The bastard was just getting up when Elijah happened upon him, ready to end him...without killing him, of course. 

The pathetic man seemed to sense him and quickly scrambled to his feet, turning to face Elijah while backing away in fear. “Hey man, don’t hurt me. I’m sorry. I am. Please, don’t do this,” he begged him, his voice shaking uncontrollably along with the rest of him. 

In an instant, Elijah had the man by the throat, raising him above his head effortlessly. He looked darkly into the human’s cowardly eyes. “My lady told me not to kill you, and so it is by her mercy that I shall refrain from snapping you in two,” he growled, almost literally, “but that doesn’t mean that I can’t give you nightmares you’ll never forget.”

The man’s level of fear rose to terrified the moment he realized he was dealing with something other than human. He struggled in Elijah’s hold, whimpering and pleading to be released. It wouldn’t do the fool any good, of course. After a few minutes of wriggling about like the worm that he was. His sobs grew into gross crying and the smell of urine soon waffles up to Elijah’s sensitive nose, making him cringe in disgust.

Yes, it was time to end this. Lowering the pathetic sod enough to stare into his eyes, Elijah compelled the man to forget ever seeing him. He also ensured that he would spend the rest of his life seeing an unknown monster in his nightmares, hunting him down and then graphically tearing him apart over and over again. Finally, he told his captive to turn himself into the authorities. Once the task was done, he released the man and quickly rushed away from the scene, leaving the sobbing man on the ground.

Returning to Eternity, he found her, though not as the woman he knew. He found her as the strange white beast, that was her true self. 

The unicorn had her head bowed over the boy, whom stared in wonder up at her the whole time. Elijah could hear the hum of the unicorn’s horn and saw a flash of it’s bright blue light, but both faded quickly. Once they did, the unicorn nuzzled the boy gently, earning a giggle from the child.

Elijah noticed the smell of blood was gone and when the unicorn reverted into the form of a woman, he saw why. The little boy was completely healed and cleaned. He was like new, as if nothing bad had happened to him in the first place.

He watched as Eternity bent down to the child and softly said to him, “You are free now, little one. There are good people coming for you. Just sit here and wait for them, alright?”

The boy nodded eagerly with a toothy grin.

Elijah could hear the rescue team heading their way already, knowing it was safe to leave the child now. “We should go,” he urged Eternity.

She nodded and with one last smile to the boy, she let him lead her out of the woods by the hand. Just as they were out of sight of the child, Elijah could hear the rescue team reach the boy. He heard one ask after the boy’s health. Yes, the boy was safe now.

Once they were out of the woods and back at the car, Elijah saw the kidnapper coming up to the officers there on the side of the road. He was sweating and flushed, but he did as he was compelled to do. He turned himself over to them. 

“Good riddance,” Elijah muttered quietly. 

He quickly became distracted by Eternity, who smirked at him mischievously. She held out her hand to him and said, “Keys.”

He couldn’t help but grin at her. “I think not, my lovely. I believe I’ll take it from here.”

Elijah chuckled as he watched her smile turn into a pout. The expression was so ordinary - human, and incredibly adorable on her rounded, youthful face. He kissed her lips swiftly before opening the passenger side door for her like the gentleman he was. She sighed defeatedly and gracefully climbed in without protest. After closing her in, he elegantly moved around to the driver’s side of the car, opening the door and sliding into the driver’s seat. 

Once the car was started up again, they were off once more on their journey, heading west toward Chicago - their agreed upon destination. He knew a vampire clan there that he was well acquainted with. He would introduce Eternity to them, let her see an example of his people first. 

“Thank you, Elijah,” Eternity piped up.

“For what?”

“For not killing that man.”

Elijah glanced at Eternity and saw that she looked over at him with gratefulness. He smirked a little in response, “Well, I had to obey the command of my queen.”

She grinned at him, “Perhaps, but you didn’t have to.”

“No I didn’t, but for you...anything.” He reached over for her hand, lifting to his lips and planting a kiss on her knuckles affectionately. “Besides, there are always more ways to deal with filth than to kill them.”

“Aye, there is.”

To Be Continued....

[icharchivist]

ooh sorry i'm going to be a major bitch about d//a4, i've been mostly trying to word myself in a polite and kind analytic way so far but i think i'm shaking with rage

i'm reading a (good!) post that highlight stuff said in the AMAs, and already at the time the AMAs drove me to full rage. Like shaking with rage, to say that day was terrible is an understatement. But i also did the wise thing to not read the full AMAs. I read some screenshots here and there but i didn't read the full thing

but therefore the post is highlighting a post from the AMAs i did not see and a dev saying: "I'd love to look at taking it down from 'end of the world' to 'the world is changing, how do you adapt and react'."

On the specific game that ABSOLUTELY REFUSED TO ADDRESS ALL THE CHANGES THAT WERE SUPPOSED TO COME???

Mythal's waiting for a "reckoning to shake the very heavens" and who talked for THREE GAMES about how she has been brewing something this whole time?

(let's not even mention the horrendous retcon of her confrontation with Fen'Harel from the end of d//ai, which is ambiguous and quiet in the game, and in the gamefiles literally mention Mythal let Fen'Harel kill her ON PURPOSE SO HE COULD GET HER POWER TO FINISH THE JOB, and like, i understand, gamefile lore isn't canon, but that was the intention of that scene, only to retcon it with Mythal waving her finger telling Fen'Harel he should stop everything he's been trying to do to save the people because she came to care for them :( )

Or Sandal's prophecy, "One day the magic will come back. All of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part and the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see"?

(and calling the quest where Solas is STOPPED from RESTORING THE WHOLE MAGIC WORLD being called "THE DREAD WOLF RISES"??????)

Or Vow and Vengeance also having Solas say he is not planning to destroy the world, he wants "regeneration, in a reckoning"?

Or Morrigan's whole talk in Mythal's temple about the danger of the Mondain destroying a past that still has something to offer??? Also Morrigan's warnings in Witch Hunt while we're at it??

Or even just the FACT that when the Breach happened in DAI the WORLD started to change, Titans started to stir, because even if we fixed the Veil it still shook the world??

OR even that in Tevinter Nights there are MULTIPLE mysteries from the past crawling back into the world?

OR YOU KNOW THE FACT THE DRAGON AGE IS CALLED "THE DRAGON AGE" BECAUSE IT IS "THE TIME OF VIOLENT AND DRAMATIC CHANGE FOR ALL OF THEDAS???

Every single players who called for change in Thedas in a way that would drastically change the setting have been cleared out of the board in order to restore the statusquo. What's left post Blight is technically the religious and social implications especially now that all of Thedas can blame the elves for the Blight, but that's not going to happen is it? the specific AMAs goes on on wanting to focus in The Dwarves and Qunari, which is fair in term of "the elves have been in focus in too long", but like this means the politics of this world means nothing when something that should clearly shake it is being brushed off entirely because the entire elven stuff were deemed too problematic to even talk about now

Sorry not to be a Veil Down truther but the return of magic could have given a radical approach to the return of magic on Thedas especially. How could the Southern Chantry react realizing they can no longer put it on a leash? how would Tevinter react when what made them so special isn't making them special anymore? what of all the tranquils who will find themselves back connected to the Fade? What about all of the people who would change from being this much closer to the Fade? What about the titans who stir when the Veil is thin, who still cause earthquake in their situation from ONE HOLE in the Veil?? What about the return of spirits??

OF COURSE people would have died in the process, i'm not saying this is the moral development of the story, but this would have been THE drastic way to change the world while actually challenging its universe.

But it was reduced too simply to "it's just another end of the world", the big changes were that now the South is destroyed so like. of course they're not going to CHALLENGE anything. There's nothing left to challenge! they just have to rebuild!

How is that interesting??? You missed your shot! you literally missed your shot!

And Da4 not taking any real time trying to think about what does change outside of the end of the world is a d//a4!! The game is so devoted of political talks especially if you didn't save Minrathous. The end of the world of all the others games have brought political and societal changes WHILE you were playing. d//a4 focusing entirely on the apocalypse and never on what the aftermath would look like is on the game! it shouldn't just be your plan for the sequel!

tears away my own hair.

Sorry but this is SO annoying to say that on the one game that was always set up to be a drastic change to thedas and instead just went "oops actually let's save the statusquo first, we'll see about change later" this is lame this is lame this is lame!!!!!

[demalore]

Snake Eyes

A fanfic (i guess?) about Greek Mythology

Apollo, God of the Arts, Master of Muses, Charioteer of the Sun Itself, was helplessly into hentai.

“It's an art form!” he argued internally against the shaming voice in his head. The other gods would never let him live this one down if they found out. Not even Poseidon, although, let's be real, he had to be into some shit.

Apollo was determined, as most gods are, to see his unspeakable desires fulfilled, by any means necessary. Consulting a fellow deity was out of the question, and he didn’t know a single mortal who could keep their mouth shut. But there was one individual Apollo knew who was so wretched, so despised, and so introverted, that she couldn’t spread even the juiciest Olympian gossip. Too bad she wasn't very happy to see him.

“Haven't you dickheads humiliated me enough?” Medusa snarled at Apollo’s reflection in her full-length mirror. She had a nice collection of mirrors at this point--mementos from would-be vanquishers--and had nothing better to do with them. Despite her damnation, Medusa was far from ugly. She could no longer count her hair or eyes among her more attractive features, but should one avoid her hypnotic stare, they would be transfixed nonetheless by her kingly cheekbones and chiseled jaw. Her arms were toned nicely after centuries of battling Greece’s finest warriors and, afterwards, lugging their remains out of her cave. Even her snakes’ scales shimmered, coils of rainbows spilling over her shoulders.

A few of her snakes turned to face Apollo while he made his proposition. Medusa kept her back to him, refusing to grant him any more of her attention than necessary. When he had finished explaining herself, she answered, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I kid not, fair Medusa,” Apollo crooned. His eggshell tunic dripped from his chiseled body, held up by a sun-shaped brooch and a stupid amount of god-magic. “On this fair day, your beauty been found worthy in the eyes of Olympus.”

Medusa tilted her mirror to look at the intruder’s face, but she could only see half of it clearly. Something black and reflective was covering Apollo’s eyes. “There's some...device, on your head.”

Apollo whipped the pair of sunglasses off. A second pair immediately materialized in its place. “Gotta have shades, when your other ride’s the sun. And you didn't think I’d come without protection, did you, ‘Dusey?””

Electricity darted between Medusa’s narrowed eyes. “Call me ‘’Dusey’ again,” she muttered, turning to Apollo, stepping over her throne of skeletal remains, “and I'll smite those ‘shades' from your hideous upturned nose!”

Apollo's nose rose a bit higher. “Please, love. Those pretty peepers of yours wouldn't give me anything worse than a headache. Me being a god, and all that. There's only one part of me that you can make hard.” Without warning, Apollo thrust himself at his target, eliminating any confusion as to which part he referred to.

Medusa’s grimace was nearly as deadly as her gaze. She had weathered swords, axes, and bare fists; all were more pleasant than Apollo’s insatiable groin against hers. His hands were on her left shoulder and right buttock before she could pull away. Apollo’s trouser snake squirmed unpleasantly underneath his tunic. Medusa couldn’t shake off his grip, but luckily, she had a trouser snake of her own.

Apollo’s ‘yipe!’ of pain was most unbefitting a god. A mirthless smile crept up onto Medusa’s translucent cheeks. Apollo whined as she leaned forward, claws pressing into his chest. Medusa cocked her head and fiddled with the edge of his sunglasses. With a flick of her finger, she sent the glasses to the cave floor, and relished the fear in Apollo’s eyes. The taste in her snake’s mouth was horrid, but it was well worth it.

“Is something the matter, ‘Paul?” Medusa asked in her husky, slithering voice. “Or did you need more protection after all?”

Apollo returned to Olympus like a beaten puppy, his usually fashionably-loose robes tied tightly about his waist. He almost envied Prometheus. Even he was never without his manhood.

It would take mere days for Apollo’s godflesh to heal, but his pride wasn't so quickly repaired. Back in his bachelor pad, he raised a silver chalice to his lips, collected his thoughts, then whispered into the vessel:

Medusa the Gorgon, no man will dare wed, else he meet his untimely end.

Sure, it didn’t really rhyme, but he was impatient. And he was fucking Apollo, so who could even judge his poetry?

The silver chalice reverberated, and Apollo’s prophecy traveled down to the twine tethered at its bottom. The twine led far from Olympus, traveling through sunlight and dust motes, to the residence of Apollo’s Muses. An identical chalice rang until a Muse picked it up to receive the new prophecy.

Important prophecies had to be delivered by proper gods, but Apollo outsourced his more personal tasks to the Muses. He couldn’t be expected to hand-deliver every bit of artistic inspiration, he was a busy guy! So long as the Muse delivered the prophecy to a proper Oracle, it would be fulfilled, and Medusa would be permanently cockblocked.

But the Muses (who were sick of handling Apollo’s dirty laundry) had a particular, not-quite-proper Oracle in mind.

As far as the ability to see the future went, Cassandra had received better romantic gestures. Being an Oracle did come with a cushy job at any of Apollo’s temples, and that wasn’t anything to sneeze at. Cassandra loved her some fresh grapes and velvet couches (to hide the grape juice stains), but the job itself? Not so much.

See, everyone thought she sucked at her job. But really, it was everyone else who sucked at their…uh, critical thinking. Sure, it wasn’t their fault Apollo cursed Cassandra so that no one would believe her prophecies, but part of her still thought everyone was just being stupid. ‘Such and such army will attack at such and such place’, she’d tell them, and they’d laugh and call her a moron. And then the enemy launched a surprise attack (a surprise to everyone but Cassandra, that is) and the people blamed her for not warning them.

But apart from being constantly snubbed and vilified, yeah, it wasn’t a bad gig.

When the other Oracles weren’t busy blaming Cassandra for everything, she actually got along with them pretty well. After all, she was the one who had the idea to convince the townspeople that the stuff they were constantly burning in the temple was ‘incense’, something the gods definitely requested and not at all just dank Mediterranean weed. That perk alone made Apollo’s stupid curse almost worth it. Even some lesser deities would come to light up at the temple; that’s how good their shit was. So Cassandra wasn’t surprised to wake up to a Muse knocking at her door.

Cassandra rolled out of bed, pulled a gown over her bare chest, and opened the door. The faceless figure standing there was emitting a many-hued light, hovering two inches off the floor, and seemed to be sucking the color out of the space around them. Typical Muse stuff.

“Ey, what’s up, duder?” Cassandra asked groggily. “If you’re here to blaze a few, I’m totally down, just give me like a minute to find some pants and maybe some pita-“

“I am not here to blaze a few,” the Muse interrupted. Heavenly harp music accompanied their voice whenever they spoke, and unbidden tears welled in Cassandra’s eyes. Uck. “I have come to deliver a prophecy from Blessed Apollo. Although I would not be strongly opposed to partaking in a few dank nugs afterwards.”

“Shit, I don’t wanna work today.” Cassandra complained. She scratched her head, and her hand came away greasy. It had been at least a week since she had left her room to go to the public bathhouse. She was in no state to give a prophecy.

“Why’s Apollo even giving me a prophecy,” Cassandra continued groaning, “no one’ll listen.”

The Muse’s invisible harp quieted while the Muse recited the prophecy, exactly as Apollo had stated it.

“Hit me up when you’re done,” the Muse said as they departed in a burst of divine light, “I just got some new shit that’s ‘sposed to be wild…”

Cassandra blinked at the empty hallway. “Fine,” she said to no one, “but I’ll only do the prophecy because because I was promised weed, not because Apollo said so.”

        “Dish it,” Adonis ordered, pouring Melina an appropriately tall glass of wine. The fact of their friendship was, in and of itself, strange: they ran competing news blogs (scrolls that they handed out to anyone who walked by) and should’ve ostensibly been at each other’s throats. However, their shared love of gossip far outweighed their business interests, and they tended to share any particularly juicy tidbits with each other. Adonis didn’t know why Melina was being coy now.

“Adonis, you’re my friend and I love you,” Melina said, taking a few obliging sips of wine, “but you can’t be fucking trusted. Especially not with something like this.”

“Dish. It.” Adonis repeated. He was squirming in his chair. Other patrons of the gay wine bar shot them some curious glances, but no one appeared to be eavesdropping.

Melina grinned, and Adonis knew he had her. That, or the wine was finally working its magic. “Fine, but swear to me that you won’t go blabbing about it to your new boyfriend.”

Adonis froze. He dropped his eyes and became very interested in his designer sandals. “B-boyfriend?” he answered with practiced (but far from perfected) offhandedness. “I assure you I haven’t the faintest idea whom you could be referring to.”

“Hermes.”

Adonis cleared his throat. “If you mean Herman, then it was just the one night, and-“

“Oh, come, on Adonis,” Melina rolled her eyes. “Are you seriously still buying that ‘Herman’ shit? The guy has pet snakes and carries that weird curly staff. Who carries a staff anymore?”

Adonis’ face was as crimson as the wine, which Melina was now drinking with a satisfied smirk.

“Fine, if you’re still in denial about banging a god,“--Adonis squeaked in protest—"then just promise me you won’t tell ‘Herman’.”

“Promise,” Adonis answered indignantly.

Melina lowered her head, posed like a sphinx, ready to pounce. “So…there’s been talk of a new prophecy out of Troy.”

“Prophecy? Yawn,” Adonis slumped back in his chair. “If it’s another one about Zeus’ cosmic dick fucking things up for the rest of us, then hon, y’all don’t need an Oracle to know that.”

“No, this is for real,” Melina continued, “this one’s from Cassandra.”

That caught Adonis’ interest. Cassandra may have been blackballed by most of the Olympic pantheon because of her falling-out with Apollo, but that only made her more popular among mortals. Damnation was very in these days. “What’d she predict this time? Is it more dirt on Apollo?”

“Better. She said some shit about how no one should try boning Medusa.”

“Like, the gorgon Medusa?” People were definitely staring at them now, but Adonis didn’t care.

Melina nodded. “And if it’s Cassandra who predicted that-“

“-Then dudes are gonna be piling up on her doorstep,” Adonis finished the thought. He himself had a few tasteless fantasies involving various daemons and monsters (didn’t everyone?), but even he would think twice about wooing Medusa. But by Cassandra’s track record, her prophecy would be sending Medusa more suitors than she could shake a stick at.

“Yeah, but so far it’s only hit the temple gossip circuit, so don’t-“

“Sure, sure, I promised, didn’t I?”

“Because if the literal god of messengers finds out-“

“He’s not, and I won’t!”

Within three days, half of Greece had heard Cassandra’s prophecy. Whether it had anything to do with a certain god’s recent visit to Earth for a night of romance, and a certain blogger’s inability to walk for the week afterwards, one can only speculate.

Ironically, Medusa was one of the last people to find out. She had a blog of her own; it was primarily an Apollo hate blog with the occasional aesthetic post. But it wasn’t super popular, on account of no traveling merchant being brave enough to visit her cave and exchange scrolls. For that same reason, she wasn’t plugged in to the local gossip scene.

When she did get a visitor who wasn’t Apollo, it was some dickbag hero looking for glory, and she didn’t keep them around long enough to get any news out of them. She didn’t take them for much of conversationalists anyway.

She was curious, though, about her sudden influx of visitors. Out of the blue, she was getting dozens of men at her cave on a daily basis. Even stranger were their intentions—instead of slaying her, they were all wanted to marry her. At first, she had dismissed it as an ineffective trick to catch her off guard, and she added them to her statue collection without a second thought. When they kept coming, she thought it had to be some sick joke. She had pissed Apollo off pretty bad this time, maybe he was sending her ‘suitors’ just to taunt her. There was one way to find out, but it involved talking to men instead of killing them outright. Hardly seemed worth it, but she missed the peace and quiet.

“What’s your deal, anyway?” Medusa tried to dodge her latest gentleman caller’s advances, but it was difficult to do with her hand covering her eyes. She didn’t trust the guy not to try to stare longingly into her eyes, no matter how infamously deadly they were. That was something guys tried to do with chicks they liked, right? Medusa hadn’t given the romantic habits of men much thought.

“I seek nothing less than to make you my bride, noble Medusa!” Guy #54 professed, grappling Medusa around her waist. He didn’t seem to mind being dragged around the cave, neither did he mind Medusa’s attempts to shake him off.

“Sure, I got that bit, but why? Why all the sudden interest in getting me hitched?”

“Have you not heard, m’lady?” Guy #54 asked, continuing to sport a formal tone as he was dragged through the dirt. “The Oracle Cassandra has prophesied that the man who weds you will be met with great misfortune; but, knowing her prophecies to be wholly unreliable, I reasoned that to make you my bride would be most fortunate indeed!”

“You and everyone else,” Medusa muttered, looking over her recently expanded sculpture collection. She’d need a second cave, at this rate.

She tried prying more details from the poor sap, but he had spiraled into the same tired stream of compliments and professions of love. Yeuch. Medusa removed her hand and dealt with him as quickly as she had the others.

One more statue to deal with. But at least Medusa had a name to pin her misfortunes on: Cassandra. An Oracle, probably one of Apollo’s, prophesying for the sole purpose of tormenting her.

There was only so much Medusa could do about Apollo, but an Oracle, she could deal with.

        The one upside of every man in Greece falling in love with her was that it made getting directions very easy. All Medusa had taken with her from the cave was the pair of sunglasses Apollo had left behind on his most recent visit. Turns out they worked just as well in the opposite direction. Wearing them, she could pass through towns without petrifying everyone she saw and causing a riot. It made travel a breeze, but if she was being honest, she kind of missed the riots. What good was being a monster if you didn’t get to start riots?

The temple was a breeze to find. It was on the outskirts of Troy, centered around a few smaller towns, but stood on an isolated hillside, miles from any village. Good location, in any case, although Medusa wasn’t a fan of all the elaborate columns and arches. A cave was more practical, required far less upkeep.

Word of Medusa’s quest had traveled almost as fast as the prophecy. Medusa expected the temple to be empty, but a thick wall of smoke hit her as she opened the door and walked inside. There was no one to greet her at the temple entrance—indeed, not one person in the entrance hall. But smoke was continuing to billow from a room deeper in the temple, so someone had to be home.

Two steps in and the smoke was already giving Medusa a headache. She held her nose, and called out in a nasally voice, “I’ve come for the Oracle Cassandra! Step forth and receive your due!” She had already removed her glasses, prepared to deliver sweet revenge.

Medusa paused. Half a minute passed, with no response. Just as Medusa decided that the temple was, in fact, empty, a faint answer came from the internal chamber:

“Uhh, sorry, temple’s closed today, on account of…I dunno, man, god shit.”

Medusa squinted into the chamber, but the smoke was too thick for her to make out any distinct shapes. The speaker didn’t sound formal enough to be an Oracle, but Medusa had to admit she didn’t know any Oracles. Maybe they all sounded like stoners.

“Are you the one known as Cassandra?” Medusa continued in her haughty voice, thought she was still holding her nose in a rather uh-haughty-ish manner. She continued toward the source of the voice, the smoke around her growing thicker, more potent.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Medusa heard the speaker take a deep breath in, inhaling a substance likely related to the surrounding smoke cloud, and let out a long, satisfied sigh. “You the pizza man or somethin’? Whatever a pizza is, I think I could really go for one. Didn’t think it was invented yet…”

“You of all people should know who I am,” Medusa snarled. She had to walk with her hands held out in front of her to avoid running into the prayer shrines and offerings scattered on the temple floor. “I’m the one you’ve cursed with your gift of prophecy!”

“Gift?” Cassandra chuckled, but slowly, as if it took her a second to understand her own joke. “It’s a fuckin’ curse dude. That’s the whole deal. Don’t you know? Apollo hates my guts, he ain’t givin’ me gifts.”

“Apollo?” The name of her most hated enemy stopped Medusa in her tracks. “He cursed you, too?”

“Yee-up.” Medusa heard Cassandra stand up and approach her. A stout, yet graceful silhouette began floating out of the haze.

A second before Cassandra came into focus, Medusa flung her hands over her eyes. “Wait wait wait!” she insisted. Her righteous fury had melted into embarrassment. Hands still over her eyes, she danced in place, turning this way and that, trying to figure out how to get her sunglasses back on without accidentally turning Cassandra to stone.

“You okay, m- woah.” Medusa heard Cassandra stop, just a few steps ahead of her, certainly enough to see Medusa clearly. Medusa heard a low, almost melodic sound, and realized it was Cassandra whistling. “Sorry. You’re not a man at all, huh?”

The prophecy hadn’t said anything about women. That was convenient.

Medusa had the distinct impression that she was being stared at. “Just let me- cover your eyes for a second, okay?”

Cassandra chuckled again—a deep, raspy belly laugh that made Medusa’s insides writhe like they, too, were made of snakes. Medusa softly pressed her hands forward, making sure that Cassandra’s hands were safely covering her eyes.

Medusa looked. The figure before her—Cassandra—did not only meet the temple in regards to elegance, but far surpassed it. If Medusa had stopped to imagine what an Oracle looked like beforehand, it would’ve quite nearly been this. Medusa could tell at first glance that this was no common soldier’s wife, nor a widowed washerwoman; this was a lady of wealth, intellect, and charm. Golden hair flowed lazily down Cassandra’s back. Her figure was round with opulence, glowing in a way Medusa had attributed only to the gods, until now. She was tempted to remove Cassandra’s hands, just for a glimpse at her face.

Remembering herself, Medusa put her sunglasses back on before lowering Cassandra’s hands. She took her time meeting Cassandra’s eyes, letting her eyes linger on her gown, her soft, scented flesh. Finally, she plunged herself in Cassandra’s eyes, the first mortal eyes she had seen that were not made of stone.

They’re brown, Medusa thought. Her heart fluttered desperately against her chest. I didn’t know mortal eyes could be colored.

Cassandra was, understandably, confused. She blinked a few times, making sure that, no, the lady with hair made of snakes wasn’t just a drug-induced aftereffect. The snakes weren’t as off-putting as Cassandra may have expected. Medusa was so unlike any being she had ever come into contact with—and that was saying quite a bit, for an Oracle of the gods—but the expression on Medusa’s face was all too familiar.

The two women simultaneously understood what had driven Apollo to curse the other. Who wouldn’t feel spurned, to be denied such beauty?

Medusa’s hands lingered around Cassandra’s. Cassandra waited for her to speak, but Medusa was as still as her victims. Whatever the gorgon had been threatening to do before, it now seemed to be the farthest thing from her mind. Well, if Medusa wasn’t going to move, Cassandra would move her herself.

“Hup!” Cassandra linked her hands behind Medusa’s back and lifted her off the ground. Medusa was shocked by how warm Cassandra was against her own semi-cold-blooded flesh, and instinctively wrapped herself around her. Cassandra was stronger than she looked, and effortlessly carried Medusa to her private chambers.

“Now,” Cassandra crooned seductively, “tell me more about how much you hate Apollo.”

[jaxsteamblog]

Avatar Katara- 2: Zuko

The palace, for all its many rooms and long halls, was small. Fear and isolation made it smaller. When Zuko was born, he was fourth in line for the throne. His uncle was forty-nine, already a widower, and with a grown son of his own. Azulon, the reigning Fire Lord, was eighty-three and had no intention of abdicating. Ozai was a second son, born to a second wife, and kept inside of the palace as the obvious spare. In case the worst happened to his older brother, the great Dragon of the West. 

Even as a small child, Zuko had felt the tension that lingered over dinner. Ozai obviously wanted more, but was consistently denied military appointments or even a governorship. The only thing he had succeeded in was his marriage to Ursa. Zuko was supposed to fulfill a prophecy; the blood of the infamous Sozin and the Avatar Roku in one superior Firebender child.

When Zuko proved to be a less than satisfactory Firebender, his father was immediately disgusted. A prodigal Bender was known with an early onset of ability and be able to innately protect themselves when faced with their element. Zuko’s hands were burned when he was four, after Ozai tried to force his bending. It wasn’t until his sixth birthday, an average age, when Zuko was able to summon fire.

Azula, on the other hand, called her first flame at three. And Ozai began to wonder about the succession of the second born.

Still, nothing really changed at the palace. Iroh was often away on a campaign or a dragon hunt, and once Lu Ten had begun his officer’s training was also gone for long stretches of time. Ozai, in an attempting to make Zuko good at something, hired the Piandao to teach him swordsmanship. It was a backhanded offer, since Piandao was not only a legendary swordsman, but also an infamous deserter. He had defeated a hundred men sent to arrest him, but came when the Fire Lord summoned him. In exchange for his freedom, Piandao was tasked with training the small prince. An insult to both of them.

Piandao, however, proved to be a compassionate teacher and Zuko was a loyal student. The former soldier taught him a different philosophy than what had been expounded by firebending teachers. Zuko learned to move, to hold himself, and to strike with more grace. His firebending improved as much as his swordsmanship did.

Ozai seemed content that his son was no longer an abject failure, though a disappointment nonetheless. He saw Ursa’s attention as coddling and often contrived ways to bring down both of his children. Azula, as a toddler, began to act out around Ursa, going so far as to strike at her. But at night, when the nightmares came, Azula clung to her and howled. Once she started attending the Girls’ School, she became distant from all of them, drawn more to her friends Mai and Ty Lee. When the three of them were in the palace, they swarmed on Zuko more, but at least Azula’s pranks were more frustrating than cruel.

The routine continued. Tension would slowly build and Zuko would avoid his father, Azula would antagonize him, there would be a fight, Ozai would have them both beaten, and then things would settle back into the usual state of affairs.

In between episodes there were family visits to Ember Island where it almost seemed like they loved each other. Zuko had clear memories of Ozai bending over Ursa to kiss her gently. He remembered playing with Azula on the beach, or having Lu Ten teach him how to swim in the gentle ocean. Iroh would go for a walk and return with fruits he would steam and they would watch the sunset, rinsing off in the surf before they rode back to their estate.

Zuko knew they were all so desperate for happiness that they each played their part in the farce. Yet still there were nights, when Zuko’s backside was raw and his body pulsed with pain, when he would think of those days. He would silently plead for them to always feel like that.

Everything changed the day Lu Ten died.

The Fire Lord kept the most rooms in the palace. Then the crown prince had his apartments, which had been empty for almost two years. Finally, there was Ozai’s suite. Their rooms were clustered together and shared one large garden. When he was anxious, Zuko often sneaked out to the garden when he couldn’t sleep. After a family dinner where Ozai not only didn’t show up, but called Ursa away, Zuko was extremely anxious.

Just as he tossed off his blankets, he heard the shaking rattle of a door being slid open. He paused, one leg halfway off the bed, listening. After a moment, the door closed and Zuko heard a pair of voices in the garden.

Although they were muffled, he could pick out his mother and father. Gliding carefully out of bed, Zuko lightly stepped onto the floor and padded over to his interior door that opened to the garden. Sliding it open by painful inches, he held his breath till he had a gap wide enough to peer through. Laying on the floor, Zuko spied out into the moonlight garden. Ursa wore her summer jinbai with an open kimono draped over her shoulders. Ozai was still dressed in his kimono but his hair was down and wet.

“Lots of sons die in wars.” Ozai said dismissively and Ursa raised her shoulders, turning her back to Zuko’s door.

“His only son.” Ursa stated and Ozai raised a hand.

“More importantly,” He said and pointed at her. “His heir.”

“That’s disgusting.” Ursa said darkly and Ozai smirked.

“My father had me when he was fifty-three. Iroh is what, sixty-one? He could have another son.” He retorted. Zuko felt the shock of dread. Lu Ten was, dead? Clenching his fists, Zuko dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands.

“I can only wish that my brother finds happiness again.” Ursa demurred and Ozai let out a bark of laughter.

“He’s a coward. One unhappy marriage and he swears off women for the rest of his life. His son dies and he immediately calls a retreat from the single most impressive siege of history.” He said.

“An unhappy marriage can be very damaging.” Ursa said sharply and Ozai turned to her, his eyes narrowed and his mouth pulled into a thin line. Then, with a slow smile, he advanced on her. Grabbing her chin roughly, Ozai pulled her face toward him. He examined her and then reached back to unpin her hair. Taking the long pin in his fingers, he ran the tip along her jaw and down her throat. Zuko couldn’t see what happened, but Ursa gasped lightly.

“You have done what you needed to do, and you have done it so well.” Ozai said. Ursa flicked up her arm and knocked the pin out of his hand. Laughing lightly, Ozai took his free hand and wrapped it around Ursa’s middle while the other went to the back of her head. He grabbed a fistful of her hair as he pulled her to him.

“Wouldn’t you like to see your husband on the throne?” He asked.

“Whatever makes you happy Ozai.” Ursa replied. Ozai’s face softened as he looked down at his wife.

“Do you really mean that Ursa?” He asked, not seeking an answer. When Ursa stayed silent, he dipped down and kissed her. When he released her, she swayed slightly.

“I had thought, in my vanity, that I deserved a beautiful bride. Now I can see how beauty is a trap.” Ozai muttered and turned away from her. They stood, silent, and Zuko could feel his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

“I am going to petition Azulon to disinherit Iroh.” Ozai continued abruptly. Ursa straightened and her arms fell rigid by her side.

“You’re already your brother’s heir.” She said.

“At this point, Iroh may pass over me completely and name that insignificant brat you coddle as his heir.” Ozai took a few steps away from her and held his hands behind his back. “No, I’ll not wait for both my father and my brother to die before I take the throne.”

“This is immoral Ozai.” Ursa countered.

“This war has been raging for ninety-four years Ursa. Three generations of children have been born into a world of constant war. I will end it. Sozin’s Comet returns in six years and I will end everything.” Ozai said and turned his face toward the sky. “The century of generals will end, and I will rule.”

“This is treason and madness.” Ursa said. Ozai turned his head to glance at her over his shoulder. Zuko flinched and receded a from the gap.

“And what will you do my little wife? What is your duty here?” He questioned. Zuko held his breath again as he watched his mother’s back. It took only a few seconds, but the hesitation was noticeable. Then, she fell gracefully to her knees and bowed her head.

“My duty is to you, husband.” She answered softly. Ozai turned fully and walked to her, putting a hand on her head.

“Come to bed wife.” He said and walked back to the door for their room. Ursa rose in a fluid motion and walked after him. Zuko curled around to watch them. Ozai held Ursa’s hand as she stepped up onto the low porch and kissed her hand as she slid off her sandals. Zuko watched until they both went in and the door slid shut with a firm clack. Counting the minutes, Zuko waited and strained to hear any sign that his parents were still up. With only the sound of the night breeze and a faint hooting from a roosting owl, Zuko edged the door open more till he could slide out. He kept his eyes on his parents’ door as he darted out into the garden, barefoot, and went to where his father had dropped the hairpin.

Finding it, Zuko was suddenly rooted to the spot. He held the long pin in both hands, watching it glint in the moonlight. Like many of Ursa’s hairpins, it was weighty and had a sharp tip. Zuko remembered a lesson with Piandao. How, when wielded with enough force, almost anything could be used as a weapon.

Even something with such a basic use and seen as nothing more than decoration.

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[insomniawhereabouts]

The Future isn't only Yours

AU/crossover where Ignis and Aerith are childhood friends. They meet shortly after Ignis has lost his vision, in an indefinite place, a white room, and discuss. Ignis confesses to his friend about the prophecy he had seen in Altissia, and how he doesn't want to lose Noct by any means. Aerith, a woman who strongly believes in and fights for the future, has surely something to say about this.

Characters: Aerith Gainsborough, Ignis Scientia

A large quantity of sunshine was filtered by the enormous glass window of the room.

Although unable to see it, Ignis could distinctly feel its warmth caressing his face, as he slowly crossed the room, his footsteps resounding throughout its four walls, with a heavy and even noise. He kept on walking until his cane hit something with a cracking sound. Ignis carefully placed one of his hand on a smooth and cold surface. He started to slide the surface with his fingers, moving his legs along, until he could feel nothing anymore and his hand fell into air. "This must be the end of the table." he thought to himself. The man then clumsily searched for the nearby chair, still not accustomed to his blindness. He clicked his tongue in frustration several times before finally finding the seat he was looking for. He let out a big sigh while studying the object, finding a way to sit down.

Once he managed to properly sit, he tried to align the chair to the table in the best way he could, and gently put his elbow on it, one hand holding his own head, the other one tapping on the table, as a sign of nervous waiting. He had leaned the cane on one of the chair's legs, paying attention to not make it fall.

Even if unable to see anything, Ignis still moved his head right and left, in an act of looking around. Force of habit, one could say. Yes, he definitely remembered that room very well, and he didn't need vision to have a clear image of it. That place was pervaded by a chill temperature, due to the gigantic glass window, almost as big as a wall, and the remaining sides made out of a white stone, perhaps marble. The floor was of a material so shiny and clear, it could have been easily mistaken for crystal or glass, being always so clean and smooth, almost slippy. The dimensions of the room itself were also curious. It was indeed a big place, its roof being about eight meters tall -Ignis had noticed before losing his vision- and its layout being quite large -at least 50 x 50 square metres. Some stairs steps separated the entrance from a raised square space, higher than the floor of just a few inches. A glass table, as well as a few glass chairs were located there, giving the room an even more enchanting look. Ignis looked outside the window. He remembered how pretty the view was, seeing it from up there. The man groaned, massaging his forehead. As much as he was trying to accept his sight loss for Noct, not being able to see anything still bit a lot. Especially considering all the nice things he couldn't have had seen anymore. Stars, interesting dungeons, green forests, bright skies, his lost home; Insomnia, and the list could have gone on, the view from that window included. He took a deep breath. "Well, I can still manage to treasure those views in my memory, at the very least", he thought in those moments, trying to cheer himself up. Not that it was so easy, though. After thinking that, he usually thought of Noctis. Maybe his features were the clearest image he remembered. No, they surely were. His odd hair, which almost covered his blue eyes, his thin nose, his well built yet slim figure, and his facial expressions, ranging from his smiling face, to his disappointed look, to his lips almost twisted as he cried, to his rare laugh. Yes, -he was used to think to himself- he was willing to endure it all for his liege. And he would have not failed.

Yet once again, his determination was subsequently burnt out every time by an another thought: that mysterious voice that incessantly spoke to his ear, like a never ending torture: "a price of blood must be made". As Ignis' breath was starting to become uneven, he heard the door being opened by someone. That sound, almost bearer of salvation in that moment, distracted him from his agony. Apparently, the person he was waiting for had finally come.

It didn't take long for a voice to break the silence, a scream that got only louder because of the architecture of the room, yet was rather muffled, as the person who let out the sound tried to contain herself.

-Igsy!-

The voice cried. It was a rather soft voice, yet it wasn't child-like. It had a certain amount of pride and determination in it- in that moment, blurred by sadness in its tone. To Ignis, hearing that usually happy voice had always been a pleasure, and it saddened him to hear it distorted in grief, especially considering that it was because of him.

The voice was followed by rapid footsteps, as if the figure was running -Ignis had imagined. The person rushed to Ignis, leaving a track of distant noises as she proceeded, caused by her shoes on the floor. She had finally reached him.

-Igsy.- the voice spoke again, this time in a quiet tone, her voice broken by tears. She let out a small sob, trying not to cry in front of one of her closest friends.

Ignis lifted his head towards the girl, trying to look her in the eyes -not knowing that she had covered her face with her hands.

-Crying isn't like you at all, Aerith.- said the man, with an almost dark tone. It was not a reprimand, mind you. On the contrary, that tone was caused by an immense feeling of guilt. His ever-smiling friend Aerith Gainsborough, crying in front of him.

Had he ever seen her cry in the first place? Aerith had always been determined and unbreakable, as long as he had memory of her. Even when they were kids, she had always moved forward, not minding the difficulties. Whatever happened to her, she did not let out a single complaint. Not that she never felt sad, the young woman had simply always been able to overcome everything with a smile. It was rather curious how they met as kids and kept on being friends, seeing the radical differences in their personalities. Ignis recalled a moment of their childhood together.

The pessimistic eight-year-old Igsy Scientia -a name Aerith had given him since the first time they spoke, and the tiny Aerith Gainsborough -a surname Ignis had struggled to pronounce for weeks, of the same age, the first one sitting on a rock, the other one standing in a pond of mud, her feet completely buried into it, as she was trying to plant some flowers collected from a paquet leaned near her, Aerith's sandals in one hand and some seeds in the other. The little girl had her hands covered in mud, as she struggled to place the seeds in the right place, her little pink tongue sticked out, with maximum focus. Ignis was watching her with a rather confused expression.

When his friend had dragged him into the field, he didn't imagine that scene to happen later. -I want to plant these flowers called Sylleblossoms- she had explained to him, when she had started to get to work -your friend Noctis likes them, right?-

In response, the other child sighed. -Aerith, I do not want to sound harsh, but that species of flower grows only in Tenebrae. It is extremely hard for them to survive anywhere else.- he said as he sat on the rock. But Aerith didn't listen to him, and a good half a hour had already passed, the little girl still doing her best to plant the seeds, while Ignis was looking at her, thinking that her mission was a sure defeat. He was about to turn over and return to the Citadel, as it was about time to go meet Noct, but his friend started to pant, exhausted, as she collapsed on her knees, soiling her white dress. Concerned, Ignis ran to her and put a hand on her shoulder, kneeling down. -Aerith! Is something the matter?- the child took some deep breaths before speaking up. -You know, no one bought those seeds at the store, for the very same reason you said earlier.- she paused, turning her head in Ignis's direction. -It was so sad. Those seeds would have never known life, and I couldn't accept that. Everyone deserves some kind of future, don't they?- she looked down at her hands, still filled with tiny seeds. -That's why I wanted to do this. I may be tired, and a bit hungry, but I won't give up. I will do my best to take care of them.-

Silence fell.

Then Ignis picked up a seed from Aerith's hand, made a hole in the ground and carefully placed it in it, to then cover the hole with some mud.

-I do not know if this will bring you anywhere. But I firmly know that nothing will ever make you change your mind, so allow me to help you, or else you will never finish for dinner time.- the boy said while faintly smiling to his friend. Aerith let out a small gasp, surprised. She smiled back, the most beautiful smile of Midgar -where Aerith came from, as she closed her joyful eyes. -Thank you!- she shouted, before tightening Ignis into an energetic hug that almost made the boy's round glasses fall on the ground. Ignis was used to being hugged like that by Aerith- a behaviour that embarrassed him at first, but that he got accustomed to later on. He hugged her back, closing an arm around her waist, while adjusting his glasses on his nose with the other hand. When the two separated, Aerith squeaked. -I'm so sorry!- she exclaimed apologetically. The dirt she had on her clothes had stained Ignis's expensive outfit. -No cause for concern.- he said, shaking his head. -Shall we, then?- he urged, getting back to work. The other one nodded, as they both gave their best to make Aerith's wish come true.

As to what happened to the flowers- they bloomed indeed, thanks to the care that Aerith had put into making them grow, year after year, being helped by Ignis. When the mud pond had transformed into a field of Sylleblossoms, both of them being sixteen, Aerith had carried Ignis there once more, and the two of them sat on the same rock of that day. -It took them some time, but here we are.- said Aerith with a giggle, her head laying on Ignis's shoulder. -Told ya!- she laughed.

During those years, she had encountered many difficulties -and not only because of the flowers. Yet, when a Sylleblossom was losing its color or when she had personal issues, she never frowned nor cried, not once. The idea of giving up never reached her brain, not even in the slightest, always keeping the most beautiful smile of Midgar on her face.

Ignis chuckled as he spoke. -We all sure have a lot to learn from you, Aerith.-

The purest smile he had ever witnessed, now erased from her face, substituted by warm tears.

Maybe he shouldn't have asked her to meet together in their secret place. He shouldn't have brought further burden to her, who was already having a dangerous life.

-I am sorry.- he thought aloud.

He heard the girl sniffling.

-Please, don't be.- she said with a whisper. -Besides, I really wanted to see you.- the young woman continued, once she calmed down. She placed the basket of flowers she was carrying with her on the table. That, as well as Aerith's outfit and her green eyes, was the only trace of color in the whole room.

She was already aware of Ignis's sight loss. She had sent a message to him some days prior, but got an answer from Gladio, who gave her the terrible news. Aerith then called him, and Ignis asked her to meet and talk together, as there was something really important he needed to tell her. Still, seeing him like that-

Aerith thought she was ready to face him with her usual smile on her face, but she got proved wrong.

The man heard his friend picking up a chair and put it in front of him, to then sit down, their knees touching. He then felt a tender hand being layed on his left leg, with a soft touch, its short fingers almost caressing him. -How are you feeling today, Igsy?- Aerith questioned with the most cheerful tone she managed to pull off in that moment.

A rather obvious question, to be fair. But the young woman was trying to act as if everything was like it was before.

-I...- the man opened his mouth, inhaling some air. -...I feel better now that you are here.- he almost whispered, not being used to sound so sentimental, not even with her. -Thank you.- he nodded, giving his friend his usual faint smile. -I am happy I can be of use.- she commented. Silence fell for some seconds. -Igsy...can I ask you something? It's okay if you don't want to do it.- the man answered quickly. -Of course.- Aerith took some time to continue, words spoken with a stuttering voice, fearing to sound insensitive: -Can I...Can I see your eyes?-

Ignis, even if surprised, said nothing, limiting himself to slowly remove his dark glasses, to then open his eyes hesitantly. He instantaneously heard a muffled sound from his friend.

Aerith felt her body go stiff. Ignis's face was ruined by scars, his left eye unable to be opened, as it had being horribly burnt, and his right eye had turned white, as if it had been made of glass, lifeless and gazing into nothingness. Had she had any hope to see her friend like he used to be again, it immediately vanished after witnessing Ignis's wounds. The young woman's heart started to ache. What had happened? Who did that to him? To her Igsy? Why, with all people on Earth, Ignis must had been the victim? Him, the most caring and devoted person she had ever met, being reduced like that. It was ungodly unfair. As Aerith still had her face painted in dismay, unable to say anything, Ignis let out a small groan, followed by a bitter chuckle. -A pity, isn't it?- he started. -We can no more say that our eyes share the same exact hue.-

They both had -used to have, big emerald green eyes. It was fairly interesting how much their eyes looked alike, both in shape and color. It wasn't rare for people to mistake them for relatives because of this shared feature. As kids, they sometimes played along, faking themselves as cousins or siblings. Combining this with the fact that they were born the same day of the same year, Aerith happened to joke about them being twins. -Us having the same birthday and the same eyes, it's kinda suspicious to me- suggested Aerith with an amused tone, on the date of their twenty second birthday, about a year before Noctis had departed with his three friends to Altissia. They had a party in Midgar, all their friends with them. Ignis didn't particularly fancy big ceremonies- but his birthday was an exception, as he wanted Aerith to have fun as much as she pleased. To be fair, the parties she threw on those occasions were considered by Ignis rather enjoyable, in spite of the hectic atmosphere.

An another memory of the same day had reached his mind. It happened when everyone was sleeping. Everyone but Ignis and Aerith.

They were both sitting in the balcony of the hotel room they had booked, Ignis to the left, while Aerith to the right, with everyone else in their beds. The girl was already wearing her light pajamas, wrapped in Ignis's jacket, as the temperature went down due to the night. They both had a cup of Ebony in their hands. Aerith preferred tea to coffee, but she fancied the idea of sharing the same drink with one of her closest friends. They sat in silence, breathing the breeze and slowly sipping their beverage, looking at the dark sky. There were no stars in Midgar. Perhaps it was because of the sadness of the natural ceiling they had above their heads that Aerith said something nice and meaningful, although pretty sappy, to fix the angsty atmosphere. -Igsy. Maybe we were born at the same moment and have the same eyes because we were bound to meet each other.- she slightly bent her head towards Ignis, with her usual smile. The lot-less-romantic one shook his head. -I doubt so. Let us be realistic. These are mere coincidences, if you ask me.- but he smiled back. -Still, I am grateful to have met you.-

The young woman opened her mouth, eyes widened. She then laughed. -Such compliment from Sir Ignis Scientia, what a honour!-

There were many doubts that afflicted Ignis in that period. First, Noctis would have gone to Altissia for his wedding in a few weeks. Second, the King had recently asked him once again to look over his son, with a rather preoccupied expression on his face. Third, Niflheim and its apparent peaceful approach, which he doubted of. As Noctis's counselor and protector, he was supposed to do his best to make sure everything was alright for him and for Lucis. But there were way too many unsure things. He didn't fear failure, as he knew it wasn't an option -he merely feared all the difficulties that would have been present in less than one month. It was part of his role to never look weak or disorientated -but Ignis was still a young man, and as efficient as he was, still a human being as well.

That's why he was grateful for having been able to meet the young woman who was sitting next to him in that very moment.

-Aerith...- he spoke.

- ...the future scares me.-

Although she could not understand his struggles, he knew how optimistic his friend had always been, how she had always reassured him whenever he felt down and couldn't have had told anyone near him because of his duty.

His friend cut her cheerful tone out and assumed her much more serious one.

-Ignis.- it was very rare for her to call him by his full name, and even more rare for her to address to him with such voice. -You are the smartest person I know, as well as the most responsible and caring. I know very well how much you love Noct, and how you have always put everything you got to protect and guide him. You have been an excellent teacher to him, teaching the Prince how to live. Heck, I have learnt from you much more than you could ever imagine. You never stop to impress me and remind me with your actions that I should become better too.- she paused for a moment, taking a sip of coffee. -I know how stressful your job can be. Trust me, I do. But I also know how amazing you are. How you would be able to move a mountain for your liege. You have no reason to be scared. You go by the name of Ignis Badass Scientia, and Noct would be lost without you. I am sure you can overcome everything, because you are damn strong, and I am blessed to have you in my life.- the girl took an another sip and talked again, this time with her usual soft spoken voice: -Don't go around saying stuff like that, Igsy. You are way better than this.- one of her hands then playfully got through his hair, making his combed head a total mess. As he listened, Ignis had a satisfied smile on his face. "I could move a mountain for Noct." he repeated in his head. That was indeed true. Should the ground have had crumbled down their feet, Ignis was willing to stand by Noctis, no matter what, and he would have managed to protect him from everything, no matter the cost. All those difficulties seemed ridiculously tiny all of a sudden. Aerith had once again managed to wipe out every doubt he had.

-Thank you.- he mumbled, fixing his eyes into Aerith's -getting the feeling of looking into a mirror, truly grateful to her and her inspiring words. -I know that you are going through a difficult moment too, but you have always been able to overcome everything and I am more than sure that you can and will resolve this. You...inspire me beyond words, Aerith.-

Ignis was awakened from his thoughts by Aertih's voice.

-That might be true.- she quickly dried a tear with her hand. -But we were still born on the same day of the same year, and no one can steal that from us. We are still twins, after all!- she let out a giggle, failing not to make it sound forced. The man placed his glasses on his nose again, as he closed his eyes- his eye. The woman slowly curved her back, to point her elbows on her legs, and tangled her fingers as she was always did, assuming an almost prayerful pose. -I...I do not ask you to tell me what happened. It's not what matters. What matters is that you are alive, in front of me.- she smiled, this time genuinely. Her smile quickly became sad. -You still intend to stay with Noctis, don't you?- Ignis felt a quiver of energy down his spine. -Is that even a question?- he responded, sounding harsher than he intended to. -Now...more than ever.- Aerith's face became worried in no time. The man heard her inhaling air. -Of course you do.- she stopped for a minute, thinking about the right words to choose. -I know that, even with your eyes wounded, you are still you. Ignis Badass Scientia, right? So...- she paused again. -...I believe you will still be of use. I really do. But please, please...- her voice cracked up again. -...Please be careful. I don't want to lose you.- on the verge of crying, the young woman felt a delicate hand on her head. She raised her eyes to look at it. -I have no intention to die, as it were.- declared Ignis. He withdrew his gloved hand to adjust his glasses. -I would never forgive myself if I were about not to be with him anymore.- Aerith shrugged in resignation. -At least you managed to come here without stumbling upon troubles.- Ignis sighed. -To be fair, Gladio brought me here. Not right in front of the building, mind you. I know that this place is only between us. But still, I didn't manage to come here completely by myself.-

-I need to dispatch from the party for one or two days.-

Announced Ignis to Gladio some days prior. Noctis had recently woken up after the battle of Altissia, and Prompto had visited him in his room. If there was anyone able to cheer him up in that moment, it was surely his best friend.

-You ain't going anywhere alone.- responded the bigger man, getting up from his seat. -Then come with me.- replied Ignis, with a certain amount of challenge in his voice. -And leave Noct alone?- Gladio started to walk in the room, with a nervous look. -Where do you need to go anyway?- the other man saw no point in lying to his friend. -I ought to see Aerith.- he firmly said. -there is something I need to tell her.- the Shield turned his back, facing the counselor, with a raging expression. -Something to tell her? And why in the world can't you tell me as well? Goddamn it, Iggy. Haven't we always told everything to each other? Our fears? Our burdens? You think she can understand you better than I can?- the man growled in his teeth. Ignis turned his face to the ground. It was true that Gladio had always been a shoulder to lean on for Ignis, since they shared the same problems, but it was also true that it was Aerith whose words motivated him the most. Furthermore, he couldn't have told him about what he saw in Altissia. He simply could have not. -I apologise, Gladio. Please, forgive me.-

He heard the other man painfully groan, and then the sound of the door slamming, followed by plain silence.

-I hope you didn't argue about this...your friend Gladio, he has never been too fond of me, hasn’t he?-

Aerith recalled that time when she was eighteen and went to Insomnia to meet with her friend on summer vacation, finding him with Gladio, who grabbed Ignis's arm as soon as he saw her coming and walked away, grunting. -We have royal issues to discuss. We gotta go.- the other one glanced at Gladio and then bowed to Aerith, while still being dragged away. -I apologise for my coworker's behaviour. I will call you later.-

Ignis chuckled. -Mere displays of unnecessary jealousy. That's none of my concerns.-

The atmosphere had finally got lighter. He should have thanked Gladio later. But that nostalgic peace didn't last long.

-Igsy. You wanted to tell me something, right?- the young woman put a hand on Ignis's shoulder. -I'm here. You feel like talking about it now?- the man gulped.

To be fair, he had wanted to let out those oppressing feelings since he had regained consciousness after Altissia. That voice had been torturing him ever since and he felt like being on the verge of insanity on more occasions. Still, having to face those sensations once again and even say them outloud, he suddenly felt scared. But had fear ever stopped him?

-Aerith. The future scares me.-

Spoke the man, like he did that distant day. -No matter how much I am willing to protect Noctis. I will never manage to save him.- his friend responded with a disorientated look. What was he talking about? Ignis started to feel his heart heavy, as he was having difficulties to breathe. -I had...I had a vision in Altissia. He truly is the Chosen King. He must sacrifice all he has. He has to die to save the world from darkness, Aerith.- the young woman noticed that her beloved friend was about to burst into tears. She quickly got up and got closer to him, to come to his aid. She didn't need to say anything for Ignis to immediately bury his face into her chest, pressing her body into a hug, seeking for comfort. Aerith had never seen her friend like that. The woman wrapped an arm around the counselor's back, pulling him even closer while gently stroking his head with the other hand, still standing up. Ignis's body started to twitch, as muffled sounds came out from his mouth.

Was he...was he sobbing?

Aerith was pretty sure she had never seen him cry as well. Her friend Ignis. Perhaps a bit of a detached person, perhaps a bit of a mysterious one, yet the most lovable one. Yet the one person who had always looked after her, followed her in her weird goals, often with a sigh, but never without a smile. The most hard working and loyal person she had ever met, the same person who had always worried about her, about Noctis, about everyone. The one that, despite their striking differences, had always stayed by her side. Yes, she could find no meaningful flaws in her friend. His dedication and determination, as well as his skills and his willingness to help those whom he loved without looking back had always inspired Aerith, just as much her optimism and positive attitude did with Ignis. Perhaps, her friend was crying because that was the only time he had ever been helpless. What could have she possibly said in that situation to make her miserable Igsy feel better?

She took a deep breath, considering what to say.

-I can imagine how you must feel right now. We have been friends since we weren't even able to properly talk. I know how your world revolves around the Lucis lineage. Noctis in particular. I know it, I know it.- she got interrupted by a loud sniffle from Ignis, and she felt like crying again, moved by her friend's suffering, as she subsequently forgot her speech. -But...but...- she tried to say, before taking an another deep breath.

No more tears.

-But. Some people's destiny is bigger than others'. - she thought about herself. About Midgar. About the Lifestream. -Noctis was born to save the world. This is perhaps the biggest destiny a person could have. Thanks to him, everyone will know the Light. He will be a hero, forever remembered.- she thought about Cloud Strife, arguably the person she cared about the most. -He will be the most important person of the entire globe. Isn't this the best thing a person could ever achieve?- what she got in response was quite negative.

-But I do not care about the world, for the Astrals' sake!- cried he. -I do not care about him being remembered, I do not care about him being a hero. I just want him to be alive!- his voice twisted with tears. -Do you remember that day, when we were still ignorant youths, in the fields of Insomnia's periphery?- the man panted, once he got calmer. -Back then, you said that everyone deserved some kind of future. Then...why shouldn't Noct deserve it as well? Why, Aerith?- the young woman was caught off guard, unable to respond. The silence was broken by Ignis's voice, this time with an angry tone rather than a sad one. -Whatever will happen...I won't let Noct sacrifice his life to save ours.- he hurled with a low voice. The young woman stared at her friend, who was still pressed against her soft chest. At the very least, he had finally stopped crying.

She thought how she and every member of Avalanche was willing to give up on their lives to save the planet. And then, the answer came to her.

-Love.-

She whispered.

-Love.-

She said louder.

-Ignis. Listen to me very carefully.- she spoke, her voice full of determination, still maintaining its soft tone. -Love is the reason of this. Why would a person ever sacrifice their own life for the sake of humanity as a whole? Because of selfless love. In spite of inevitable death, we still love. We don't want to lose our lives. We don't want to lose the people we care about. Still- we love. We love, and fight. We fight for everyone. We are bound to love. Bound to banish darkness and hatred, and restore the light and love. We must bring hope to those who have lost it, to those who suffer.- she paused.

-Noctis wasn't born to die. He was born to love.-

She smiled.

-Born to give everyone the most important thing: a future. Although this may not justify why he in particular must do this, it surely gives him a reason to. He is up to give up on every happy moment he could have lived, because he loves. Love also means sacrifice. You should know this better than anyone. You said that you don't care about the world, but the future isn't only yours, or his, Ignis. As difficult as it is, we must love and move forward, always.-

-Love...- the man whispered.

-Yes, love. Will you ever think that people don't deserve love because of their actions, consider that hope and love will bring them to the righteous path. The world shall know Light only if it's brought by someone.-

The young man returned to his previous position, dried tears on his face. Aerith kneeled down to face Ignis. -After all, Noctis is your King.- she layed her forehead on his friend's, their noses touching. -You must love him for what he is, thus love everyone else for his sake. I will be here to support you, I promise. Loving 'til the end, got it?- some minutes passed, both of them unmoving.

-Got it.- the young man firmly answered, as he got up from his seat. Aerith did the same. -Leaving so soon?- she said flexing one of her eyebrows, with a sarcastic tone. The other one chuckled. -Noctis needs me.- he said with a smile. -The whole world does.-

The young woman grabbed a flower from the basket, and gently placed it behind her friend's ear. -It's a white iris.- she explained. -It symbolises hope and friendship.- she standed tiptoe, trying to cover the significant height difference the twos had, Ignis being exactly twenty centimetres taller than Aerith, as she wrapped the counselor's neck with her arms, in a tender hug. Ignis hugged her back, his arms crossed around her waist, just like when they were kids. They stayed like that for some time, before the young woman landed a tiny kiss on the tip of her friend's ear -an another rite they had dragged along since childhood, to finally return to her place. She cupped Ignis's cheek with a hand. -We can go, then.- she concluded with her usual cheerful tone. Although Ignis couldn't see her, he knew that Aerith was smiling to him in that moment, the most beautiful smile of Midgar before his very eyes. The man stretched his arm to collect his cane, but he was stopped by Aerith's hand, who grabbed his. -Let me help you.- she spoke to him. -Of course.- he nodded. He heard the young woman grab the cane, to then walk towards the door of the room.

They left the place hand in hand, her steps guiding his.

Ignis was walking in a dense forest, completely alone. Despite him having no sight, he perfectly knew where to go, his cane abandoned long ago. He lifted his eyes to the sky. Even if he could not see it, he felt the warmth of sunlight on his face, the dawn having been brought back some weeks prior. It didn't take long for him to reach the designated place, since he was now accustomed to his blindness. He found himself in a small yet lush glade. Placed in the middle of it layed a grey stone which almost looked like a tomb, although there was no one buried beneath it. Once the man had reached it, he layed down a freshly picked up white iris on it, as he kneeled down. He then extracted an old photo from his pocket. It represented Aerith hugging Ignis as she was used to do, slightly pulling him down due to her short figure. They were both smiling to the camera, Aerith with her big and beautiful smile, Ignis with his faint one, as it had always been. He remembered that moment. The picture had been taken a few days before he had departed from Insomnia, more than ten years prior. He buried the picture in front of the stone, as well as some flower seeds of different kind.

-Thank you.-

[dfroza]

the greatest fear in this world is to be separated from Love.

and yet Love draws the heart to itself, but some resist. they don’t want to open to its sacred truth.

and some don’t recognize God, while others fight against Him. many children have a rebellious phase and many people go through the same with our Creator. but grace seeks to heal us from inside out. to renew the heart & mind.

Today’s reading in the New Testament is chapter 13 in the book of Acts where the message of grace was being shared and also opposed:

The church in Antioch had grown strong, with many prophets and teachers: Barnabas, Simeon (a dark man from Central Africa), Lucius (from Cyrene in North Africa), Manaen (a member of Herod’s governing council), and Saul. Once they were engaged in a time of worship and fasting when the Holy Spirit spoke to them, “Commission Barnabas and Saul to a project I have called them to accomplish.” They fasted and prayed some more, laid their hands on the two selected men, and sent them off on their new mission. Having received special commissioning by the Holy Spirit, Barnabas and Saul went to nearby Seleucia on the coast. Then they caught a ship to the island of Cyprus.

At the city of Salamis on the east side of Cyprus, they proclaimed the message of God in Jewish synagogues, assisted by John Mark. They went westward from town to town, finally reaching Paphos on the western shore. There the proconsul named Sergius Paulus, an intelligent man, summoned Barnabas and Saul because he wanted to hear their message. At his side was an occult spiritualist and Jewish false prophet named Bar-Jesus or Elymas (which means “magician”). Elymas argued with Barnabas and Saul, trying to keep Sergius Paulus from coming to faith.

Saul, who is also known as Paul, was suddenly full of the Holy Spirit. He stared directly into Elymas’s face.

Paul: You’re a son of the devil. You’re an enemy of justice, you’re full of lies, and you steal opportunities from others. Why do you insist on confusing and twisting the clear, straight paths of the Lord? Hear this, Elymas: the Lord’s hand is against you, and you will be as blind as a bat for a period of time, beginning right now!

At that instant, it was as if a mist came over Elymas and then total darkness. He stumbled around, groping for a hand so he could be led back home. When Sergius Paulus saw this happen, he came to faith and was attracted to and amazed by the teaching about the Lord.

Paul and his entourage boarded a ship and set sail from Paphos. They traveled north to Perga in Pamphylia. John Mark, however, abandoned the mission and returned to Jerusalem.

Paul and Barnabas continued from Perga to Pisidian Antioch; and on the Sabbath, they entered the synagogue and sat down. After the regular reading of the Hebrew Scriptures—including passages from the Law and the Prophets—the synagogue leaders sent a message to them: “Brothers, if you would like to give us some exhortation, please do so.” Paul rose to his feet, offered a gesture of greeting, and began his message.

Paul: Israelites and other God-fearing people, please hear me. The God of the Israelites chose our ancestors and helped them become a large population while they were living in Egypt many years ago. He displayed His great power by leading them out of that powerful nation. For about 40 years, He endured their constant complaining in the wilderness. He opened up some land for them in Canaan by destroying the seven nations living there, and that land became their inheritance for about 450 years. They had tribal leaders through the time of the prophet Samuel. Then they asked for a king, and God gave them one—Saul, son of Kish, of the tribe of Benjamin—who reigned for 40 years. After God moved Saul aside, He made David king in his place. God had this to say about David: “I have found David, son of Jesse, to be a man after My own heart. He’s the kind of king who will rule in ways that please Me.” God has selected one of David’s descendants as the long-promised Liberator of Israel. I am speaking of Jesus.

Before Jesus arrived on the scene, His cousin John was hard at work, proclaiming to all the people of Israel a ceremonial washing through baptism and pointing to a new direction in thought and life. John’s ministry climaxed when he said, “Who do you assume me to be? I am not the One you’re looking for. No, but One is coming after me, One whose sandal thong I am unworthy to untie.” My brothers, fellow descendants of our common father Abraham, and others here who fear God, we are the ones to whom God has sent this message of salvation.

But you know the people of Jerusalem and their leaders did not recognize Jesus. They didn’t understand the words of the prophets that are read in the synagogues on Sabbath after Sabbath. As a result, they fulfilled the ancient prophecies by condemning Jesus. Even though they could find no offense punishable by death, still they asked Pilate to execute Jesus. When they carried out everything that had been foretold by the prophets, they took His body down from the tree and laid Him in a tomb. But that was not the end: God raised Him from the dead, and over a period of many days, He appeared to those who had been His companions from the beginning of their journey in Galilee until its end in Jerusalem. They are now witnesses to everyone. We are here to bring you the good news of God’s promise to our ancestors, which He has now fulfilled for our children by raising Jesus. Consider the promises fulfilled in Jesus. The psalmist says, “You are My Son; today I have become Your Father.”

Elsewhere God promises that Jesus will rise and never return to death and corruption again: “I will make You the holy and faithful promises I made to David.” Similarly, another psalm says, “You will not abandon Me to experience death and the grave or leave Me to rot alone.” We all know David died and was reduced to dust after he served God’s purpose in his generation; these words obviously apply not to David but to the One God raised from death before suffering decay. So you must realize, my brothers, that through this resurrected man forgiveness of sins is assured to you. Through Jesus, everyone who believes is set free from all sins—sins which the law of Moses could not release you from. In light of all this, be careful that you do not fulfill these words of the prophet Habakkuk:

Look, you scoffers!

Be shocked to death.

For in your days I am doing a work,

a work you will never believe, even if someone tells you plainly!

Paul and Barnabas prepared to leave the synagogue, but the people wanted to hear more and urged them to return the following Sabbath. As the people dispersed after the meeting, many Jews and converts to Judaism followed Paul and Barnabas. Privately Paul and Barnabas continued teaching them and urged them to remain steadfast in the grace of God. The next Sabbath, it seemed the whole city had gathered to hear the message of the Lord. But some of the Jewish leaders were jealous when they saw these huge crowds. They began to argue with and contradict Paul’s message, as well as slander him. Paul and Barnabas together responded with great confidence.

Paul and Barnabas: OK, then. It was only right that we should bring God’s message to you Jewish people first. But now, since you are rejecting our message and identifying yourselves as unworthy of eternal life, we are turning to the outsiders. The Lord has commanded us to do this. Remember His words:

I have appointed you a light to the nations beyond Israel,

so you can bring redemption to every corner of the earth.

These words created two strong reactions. The outsiders were thrilled and praised God’s message, and all those who had been appointed for eternal life became believers. Through them the Lord’s message spread through the whole region. But the Jewish leaders united the aristocratic religious women and the city’s leading men in opposition to Paul and Barnabas, and soon they were persecuted and driven out of the region. They simply shook the dust off their feet in protest and moved on to Iconium. The disciples weren’t intimidated at all; rather, they were full of joy and the Holy Spirit.

The Book of Acts, Chapter 13 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is chapter 6 in 1st Samuel where the Philistines returned the stolen Ark of the Covenant with compensation:

[Gold Tumors and Rats]

After the Chest of God had been among the Philistine people for seven months, the Philistine leaders called together their religious professionals, the priests, and experts on the supernatural for consultation: “How can we get rid of this Chest of God, get it off our hands without making things worse? Tell us!”

They said, “If you’re going to send the Chest of the God of Israel back, don’t just dump it on them. Pay compensation. Then you will be healed. After you’re in the clear again, God will let up on you. Why wouldn’t he?”

“And what exactly would make for adequate compensation?”

“Five gold tumors and five gold rats,” they said, “to match the number of Philistine leaders. Since all of you—leaders and people—suffered the same plague, make replicas of the tumors and rats that are devastating the country and present them as an offering to the glory of the God of Israel. Then maybe he’ll ease up and not be so hard on you and your gods, and on your country. Why be stubborn like the Egyptians and Pharaoh? God didn’t quit pounding on them until they let the people go. Only then did he let up.

“So here’s what you do: Take a brand-new oxcart and two cows that have never been in harness. Hitch the cows to the oxcart and send their calves back to the barn. Put the Chest of God on the cart. Secure the gold replicas of the tumors and rats that you are offering as compensation in a sack and set them next to the Chest. Then send it off. But keep your eyes on it. If it heads straight back home to where it came from, toward Beth Shemesh, it is clear that this catastrophe is a divine judgment, but if not, we’ll know that God had nothing to do with it—it was just an accident.”

So that’s what they did: They hitched two cows to the cart, put their calves in the barn, and placed the Chest of God and the sack of gold rats and tumors on the cart. The cows headed straight for home, down the road to Beth Shemesh, straying neither right nor left, mooing all the way. The Philistine leaders followed them to the outskirts of Beth Shemesh.

The people of Beth Shemesh were harvesting wheat in the valley. They looked up and saw the Chest. Jubilant, they ran to meet it. The cart came into the field of Joshua, a Beth Shemeshite, and stopped there beside a huge boulder. The harvesters tore the cart to pieces, then chopped up the wood and sacrificed the cows as a burnt offering to God. The Levites took charge of the Chest of God and the sack containing the gold offerings, placing them on the boulder. Offering the sacrifices, everyone in Beth Shemesh worshiped God most heartily that day.

When the five Philistine leaders saw what they came to see, they returned the same day to Ekron.

The five gold replicas of the tumors were offered by the Philistines in compensation for the cities of Ashdod, Gaza, Ashkelon, Gath, and Ekron. The five gold rats matched the number of Philistine towns, both large and small, ruled by the five leaders. The big boulder on which they placed the Chest of God is still there in the field of Joshua of Beth Shemesh, a landmark.

[If You Are Serious About Coming Back to God]

God struck some of the men of Beth Shemesh who, out of curiosity, irreverently peeked into the Chest of God. Seventy died. The whole town was in mourning, reeling under the hard blow from God, and questioning, “Who can stand before God, this holy God? And who can we get to take this Chest off our hands?”

They sent emissaries to Kiriath Jearim, saying, “The Philistines have returned the Chest of God. Come down and get it.”

The Book of 1st Samuel, Chapter 6 (The Message)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for friday, September 25 of 2020 with a paired chapter from each Testament along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

Today’s message from the Institute for Creation Research:

September 25, 2020

Obedience and Righteousness

“For as by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous.” (Romans 5:19)

Certainly the focal point of all history and the climax of Christ’s earthly ministry, was His sacrificial death on the cross. Christ knew from ages past what was in store for Him, and yet He was “obedient unto death, even the death of the cross” (Philippians 2:8).

However, as we see in our text, Christ’s obedience included more than His death, for He was perfectly obedient throughout His entire life. Indeed, it is a good thing, for any act of disobedience would have invalidated His sacrificial death. Animal sacrifices in the Old Testament (which prefigured the final sacrifice of Christ) had to be “without blemish” (Leviticus 22:19). But even a perfect animal was not enough (Hebrews 10:4) to satisfy God’s justice and take away sins. “Ye were not redeemed with corruptible things.... But with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot” (1 Peter 1:18-19).

Christ’s obedience, therefore, consisted not only of His obedience in death but in His entire earthly life—from His incarnation, “I come...to do thy will, O God” (Hebrews 10:7)—to His childhood, “[Know] ye not that I must be about my Father’s business?” (Luke 2:49)—to His healing and teaching ministry among the people, “I must work the works of him that sent me” (John 9:4)—to His preparation for death, “nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42).

Now, in His obedience, Christ calls us to a life of similar obedience. “Though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered; and being made perfect, he became the author of eternal salvation unto all them that obey him” (Hebrews 5:8-9). JDM

[mildredsaunder]

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