PROLOGUE

Leora

"You've disappointed me, Leora…"

My lady's face was framed in shadow, the pale silver-yellow of her eyes like moons, blended into the dark of the night sky, brighter than the stars at her back. Late spring grass rustled, shifted only by the wind. Despite the brightness of her eyes, unnerving even to those who had borne their weight over nearly a century, it was the impassivity of her face that caught and held me more than unwillingly transfixed.

It was unnecessary for her to tell me; her despondency was visible in the curve of her mouth, the odd quirk at the corner — a tell-tale sign since long before I was born, I'd been told — markedly pronounced. After nearly ninety years in the service of the Lady Artemis, I knew many of her traits, her idiosyncrasies. More than many of my companions, elder and younger alike.

I had never seen her appear in quite such a state.

"You broke my trust and a divine vow," she breathed, eyes glinting coldly. "I hereby strip you of my blessings and immortality. You are my Hunter no more, Leora Ashlar."

People rarely consider their own weight, I have found. The legs bear it effortlessly, within reason, and I myself have rarely put a conscious thought behind it. It is comfortable, and familiar, for lack of another load to bolster.

That was how I felt in my mortal state, just enough of that… Comfort to feel there, to feel… Material, I suppose. As a follower of Artemis, that weight went from unconscious to nearly nonexistent, a lightness to my feet that would most likely never exist to any mortal.

The previous level of comfort that came with that weight, that familiarity, was long gone, the sudden feeling, as if it had dropped upon my shoulders, was enough to make me stagger, had I been standing. I ducked my head, planting one hand flat on the ground to steady myself as I adjusted. The goddess could have made it far worse, I know, I could have collapsed entirely, or begun to spasm and shriek in torment. This was… Worse, in no way and therefore in any and every.

We are her children, when we become her Hunters, and she cast me aside with all the love and care of a mother. And with all the undisguised loss.

When I raised my head, her moon-like eyes had darkened into shadow. Her face maintained its controlled serenity, the curl at her lip gently smoothing out into impassivity.

Light fell instead upon the bow lain beside my foot, glowing silver in the moon's pale luster. My bow, which had always only appeared when it was needed. I could sense it, and then, all the magic in it was gone, drained or removed, returning to the goddess. When I reached out and brushed my fingers against the polished surface, it did not shrink away.

The lady turned and left without another word, her steps soundless, more over the ground than on, and disappeared into the trees. My sisters followed, until I could feel they had all gone, their magical auras indiscernible.

On my feet, after a prolonged, lingering moment that may well have been an hour, had it not been for the moon's unchanging position, I got to my feet, avoiding the discomfort of stumbling over my boots by simple, unadulterated luck, years of effortless, thoughtless grace unavailable to my suddenly mortal frame. It is not a sensation I would particularly care to recommend.

Though not the clearest of all lakes, Lake Champlain blended well with the dark of the night sky above, as truly black as the blue shimmer that would come with daylight, flecked with bright pinpricks, a representation akin to that in a watercolor canvas.

I was never one to assign blame to other, when not justifiable. I could not and did not blame Artemis; she had done only what she had always sworn to do, carried on since well before anything with which I was familiar. It was not within my rights to blame her, to harbor offense. It was impersonal, the same fate that would have come to any of my sisters, had they done as I had.

And yet… The undesired feeling lingered. I resented her, though the word would seem to have fallen short. The sharp, angry pinpricks were familiar enough, but rather than the scorching burn I would have recognized, these went well beyond cold, seemingly spread over every inch of my being — well beyond a simple physical reaction — unnerving to say the least.

My contrition there was owing and utterly unquestionable.

As for the other of my sorrows, the one that had abruptly and dramatically been shoved from the forefront of my mind- Though guilt there, while justified and deserved, was not mine alone to bear.

What did it matter? He would regret nothing, I knew that without sparing another moment to considering it. Why would he?

No, Greg didn't deserve to monopolize my mind. Those thoughts could remain on the edges for a time. For the moment, there were greater things at work. Decades of training aside, I was mortal again, and without the goddess and my sisters, and still unsteady on my feet, I was vulnerable, an easy target to any wayward hellhound or flock of Stymphalian birds nearby.

An unfamiliar feeling, and not one I savored. Without the blessings of Artemis, the best place would be the same I had left some ninety years previously, to join the Hunt. There are some who might have considered that to be symbolic.

Before my mind could offer any other suggestion, a rustling off to one side, little more than those of the wind on the grass, but an outlier simply for the sake of my own rising concerns, made up my mind for me.

Authors' Note

Muse Thalia: Yay! Callie did it! Leora's amazing entrance! Poor Leora though… She's basically lost everything.

Muse Calliope: Seriously, how did this take so long! Oh, wait, I know that. Because I spent eternity looking up synonyms for other words. I feel like I went a bit… Poetic, but it fits.

Muse Thalia: It's definitely Leora! I feel the next POV we have planned is overly simplistic! Haha. At least the characters will all have different voices. *smile*

Muse Calliope: Wonder what the others'll be like…

Muse Thalia: I hope they are interesting! I bet the readers will come up with some fun OCs for us to tortu- I mean write!

Muse Calliope: Sure ya do. Speaking of which, if you'd please refer to the below?

Muse Thalia: Yes! All readers, we have our rules and form down below for your use. The form can also be found on our profile!

SYOC Rules

Rule One- Details! Details! DETAILS! We thrive off that! And it's very much appreciated!

Rule Two- All submissions must be in PM! Submissions in reviews won't be used!

Rule Three- Every Submission PM must be labeled "tPoR: First Name Last Name, Child of Parental God". Ex: "tPoR: Leora Ashlar, Child of Hecate".

Rule Four- If you have questions, please label it "tPoR Questions- Your PenName". Ex: "tPoR Questions- The Muses of FanFiction".

Rule Five- Don't be OP as Hades! Try to be reasonable! All characters need room to grow!

Rule Six- Please ask before about Genders. We don't want an all Female cast because that's just no fun.

Rule Seven- No Big Three kids! That so isn't happening! If I, Muse Thalia, see one Daughter of Poseidon or Child of Hades, I'll send the "Try again!" Message! Or just assign you a god if you can't think of one besides a Big Three! ("She's not kidding" says Calliope.)

Rule Eight- If you all get salty about the POV lengths, then we have a problem. This is a story. Chapter length means nothing if the POV is First Person! Chapters could range from 5 words to over 2000! So please make sure you understand this before submitting!

Rule Nine- You may send the OC in parts as you finish so we can get a good idea of where you are going with the character before we think about accepting. This isn't a requirement, but we will allow it.

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SYOC Form

-BASIC INFO-

Name:

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