"Apollo?"
Apollo, God of the Sun, Archery, Healing and Poetry, gasped and opened his eyes to see concerned silver eyes peering down at him
"Oh, Arty." He wearily looked around, ignoring his sister's huff of annoyance, and saw, much to his relief, no other deity present who would see him on the ground, sweating and panting uncontrollably, "It's you."
A dull throb was beginning to settle at the back of his head, and he groaned at the feeling, fingers tangling absent-mindedly in his golden locks as though trying to physically pull the headache away. It had been millennia since Apollo had last gotten a migraine this bad.
"Yes, it is me." Artemis stepped forward, an alien expression of concern flitting across her face, "Are you...do you require my assistance?"
"I'm fine." He said shortly, hefting himself up and onto his bed with a pained sigh. "You don't need to worry about me."
"Apollo, these...visions have been plaguing you-"
"And will cease soon, I'm sure." He grinned with a fake confidence that he admittedly did not feel; he didn't worry too much when he saw Artemis look like she wanted to rip his hair out for him. It was a normal reaction, for her.
Of course, he had to immediately be proven wrong, as a sharp pain spiked through his head.
"Nonsense, brother- as far as I'm concerned, these have never caused you pain." Artemis settled for saying, hands making their home on her slim hips.
"The pain is not due to my visions," Apollo finally snapped, "And I would thank you to remember that."
It was rare for him to suddenly use the older way of speaking, but it meant that he was done discussing the subject, and his sister apparently realized that as well, when her eyes turned cold.
"Fine, have it your way. I shall leave then."
She walked a few paces forward, before disappearing in a gust of air.
"What is happening to me?" Apollo finally whispered, dropping his head in his hands, "What's wrong with me?"
Receiving no answer from the stifling silence of the room, he too disappeared.
He appeared in front of the open doors to the Throne Room; they were easily 50 times his mortal size, and it was an extremely unnerving realization, so the male simply closed his eyes, feeling himself grow taller, stronger.
The room was large beyond measure, made entirely of marble, with 12 custom chairs enriched with imperial gold circling a large fire. The ceiling was, again, carved with intricate gold carvings made by the finest blacksmiths and, of course, Hephaestus himself.
As he seated himself he noticed, with growing amusement, that the other immortals were once again bickering amongst themselves, no doubt due to a scathing comment made by one of the members.
"So, what is it this time?" Apollo asked the neighboring Hermes, since it seemed that Artemis was perfectly content to ignore him.
"Huh?" The messenger god blinked in surprise, no doubt fully engrossed in the ensuing water battle between Poseidon and Athena (again), "Oh, I think it was about Demeter's inability to renounce cereal."
It ended up being unnecessary, Apollo asking him, because, although on cue, Hephaestus banged his hammer against the arm of his throne, simultaneously doing the equivalent to Apollo's head, "I say, ENOUGH with your cereal woman!"
Several of the other Gods grumbled in agreement, no doubt fed up with the nature-lover's soundless debates.
"I'll have you know that cereal prevents heart diseases!"
"Gods do not get heart diseases!"
"That's what you-"
A general hush fell over all those present in the room and, from the corner of his eyes Apollo noticed Hestia smile from her place near the Hearth, as the sound of footsteps echoed through the stillness. Apollo nearly groaned in relief: Zeus had finally arrived.
The King of the Gods harbored a strict expression of discipline, with very few wrinkles on his youthful face that were countered by the shocking snowy hair that was cut short and his neatly trimmed beard. Zeus' grey-blue eyes crackled with an intensity yet to be discovered in any other deity, bar Kronos, powerful in orchestrating the God's overall appearance.
Of course, none of the Twelve, or Eleven, feared him. Zeus did not really have much of a fear factor. Rather, the Olympians paid him respect because that's what they were expected to do in public. That is what they would have done for any god or goddess save, perhaps, Aphrodite, Hermes and Apollo. They had never been taken seriously by their more war-like cousins and uncles, though they did not mind it much.
Apollo, in particular, was used to it. His purpose was basically just to set an example for the other Gods when something went wrong, and it usually involved him becoming a mortal.
He subconsciously scratched at an itch near the shell of his ear, as Zeus took his seat. He was wearing a dark grey suit today, Apollo noted; that meant he was in a rather serious mood.
"Assembled Gods and Goddesses," He began solemnly, "I am afraid that I am the bearer of bad news."
Beside him, Hermes shifted uncomfortably and Apollo deduced that it was really him who was the true bearer.
"Gaia is stirring."
Whatever Apollo had been bracing himself for, he was not prepared for this; judging by the murmurs, so were the other Gods.
Athena's voice rose above the clamor.
"What do you propose we do, Father?" He stormy grey eyes were rather calm, actually, almost apathetic.
"That is why I have summoned the Council," Zeus inhaled deeply, "Until any further agreement is reached-"
A wave of pain rocked through Apollo's skull as he cradled his head in his arms, trying desperately not to see the oncoming vision, not in front of the others, to no avail.
"Mistress." A nervous voice.
Apollo looked around; he was in a cave of sorts, hair damp with sweat and shoes squelching in the muddy soil. It was not a very nice place to be; he could practically feel the dark aura being emitted from every corner.
"What is it?" A figure emerged from the darkness; body almost one with the earth.
No.
Apollo gasped as her face fell into the dim light, a horrifying realization dawning upon him. She wasn't one with the earth. She was the Earth.
He tried to force himself to move, to scout for any clues to determine her location but found, to his dismay, that his feet were trapped in the soil, rendering him immobile.
He was stuck.
"There...there is a slight problem, Mistress."
That voice, he had to have heard it somewhere, it sounded so familiar. Was it a nymph or a dryad?
"What is it, you insufferable goddess?! Spit it out!"
A goddess, then. The knowledge of a traitor made Apollo's gut churn uneasily.
"The King, Milady. He has...well, he has become a female due to some obscure magic, no doubt on the part of Hecate..."
He gaped; there was no way he had heard correctly, right?
There was a deafening moment of silence, after which Gaia finally spoke, voice frigid.
"What you mean to tell me is that I now have a daughter instead of a son?"
"Y-yes, Mistress." The blurry figure knelt.
Then, a surprisingly cruel smile etched its way onto the muddy face of the powerful immortal, as she looked up: directly into Apollo's eyes.
"This should raise the stakes."
My first PJO story, whoop! I know I'm especially late, but oh well.
Please note that this ignores most of the Heroes of Olympus series (though I'm sure it's pretty obvious), and that the Gods play more of a role than the demigods do.
But, moving on, how was it? Yay or nay? Constructive criticism is always appreciated!
~beingawesome xD