The pain rushed back in one strong swoop, as Apollo opened his eyes to see concerned silver eyes peering down at him, much like before.

This time, Apollo could hardly manage a croak before shuddering in the unpleasant sensations the vision brought with it. He clenched his eyes shut, knowing that nothing would stop the feeling; the pain would just need to go on its own.

The darkness was actually uncomfortable to be in; dulling one of his senses made his other ones get amplified. In other words, he could feel easily ten times what he was supposed to, and it was not the best feeling.

He quickly opened his eyes again.

"Is this normal?" He heard Zeus question, and he nearly groaned because, of course, all the Gods were there and they witnessed him having a fit, practically, during one of his weakest moments. That was so embarrassing; no one would take him seriously ever again. They would just regard him to be off his rocker and leave it at that.

He searched desperately for Artemis' eyes, tried to convey through the desperation of his gaze how important it was for her to not tell Zeus what was going on. He would have done it himself, but he was the God of Truth; lying wasn't something he did.

Artemis stared at his frenzied features for a bit, before turning to her Father. None of the other Gods had ever seen Apollo deliver Prophecies or see Visions before, so they wouldn't be able to pick apart the truth from the lies anyway.

"Yes, this occasionally happens, Father." Artemis nods, not letting a smile grace her face because that would be far too suspicious, "But I think I should be getting him back to his place...I'm sure Hermes is willing to assist?"

It was then that Apollo noticed the Messenger God fretting over him on his other side, and felt a rush of guilt momentarily pass through him; Hermes was so worried about him, and he didn't even realize he was there. He was a terrible deity, wasn't he?

"Huh?" The dark-haired male looked confused for all of two seconds, before realization struck him quickly, "I mean, yeah, sure! I'll help ya out!"

"Wait."

Apollo inwardly sighed at the order given by the Wisdom Goddess; of course she wouldn't let anything go, she was Athena! His heart picked up speed though, furiously pumping his blessed blood through his body.

"Should we not find out what he saw?" The grey-eyed goddess was giving him this expression that he was, unfortunately often on the receiving end of: the 'you-are-dumb-but-I-need-you' look.

"I don't think he's in a position to be speaking right now, Athena."

Apollo had never felt more grateful for his sister as she stalked towards him with purpose, in confident strides that would put the most confident of mortals to shame. It, however, did not deter the smart Goddess, who only raised a dark eyebrow in indifference.

"Every piece of information that we receive may help us better guard Olympus," She pointed out dryly, and Apollo noted with disappointment that Zeus was falling for it, hook, line and sinker, "Nothing is more important than that."

"Okay children," A sweet voice piped up, and Apollo was just so done with everything; did everyone always make this much noise, or were they doing it that day just to test how long he could go without his head blowing up?

"It's nice to see you're so...invested in what's going on right now," Aphrodite cooed cheerfully, before smirking, plump red curling upwards, "But I've got my own things to invest in...namely the Ball! I've got things to set up, pairings to set up!"

With that, she vanished in a fragrance of cherry blossoms and plumes of pink.

The throne room was silent for a bit, before the uproar.

"Shit man, I totally forgot about the Ball!" Dionysus groaned in exasperation, Diet Coke tumbling out of his hands.

Next to him, Hephaestus groaned, hands covering his misshapen face, "Don't remind me. Why am I her husband again?"

"Hermes, let us leave now." Artemis said immediately, when she noticed that Apollo had clenched his eyes shut again at the needle-like sensation digging into his scalp.

"SURE THING!" The younger God grinned cheerfully, before scooping up his older half-brother bridal style, making him groan in discomfort. Apollo could see a flicker of worry cross his face for a brief second, but it was gone as soon as it came, and he disappeared in sync with Artemis without a sound.


Apollo didn't know that he had fallen asleep on the way until he woke up.

His room was mostly silent, save for his heavy breathing; he wiped some of the sweat off his face, grateful that his accelerated healing allowed him to shake those migraines off on the same day he got them. A crease graced his brow as he pondered about the recent visions he'd been having, and it only further worsened when he recollected his latest.

When the traitor, whoever that was, had spoken about the...'King' turning into a girl, she looked like she was being serious. But Gaia had looked at him, so how could he be sure that this was not an elaborate scheme meant to through him and the rest of the Gods off.

He decided he would keep the knowledge to himself for now, and investigate on his own.

He swung his legs over the bed and clambered out, only to nearly crumble where he was standing because his knees felt like they were about to shatter into fine dust. Inactivity really wasn't good for him. He somehow managed to move around, eventually.

He gazed outside his window, down at the tiny village-like areas of Olympus. It was as beautiful as it was the day he had first seen it, as a small child still clinging onto his Mother's arm. He could remember it as though it were yesterday; Artemis was constantly giggling at his awestruck expressions, though she was no better herself, with wide silver eyes and a constant smile adorning her face. He remembered that the both of them actually teamed up for once and begged Leto to get them some ambrosia from one of the vendors on those rickety roads.

Ambrosia was one of those omnipresent foods; however, like any other meal, it too tasted differently depending on where it was produced. Olympus was said to give rise to some of the most tasteful ambrosia to be found anywhere, and Apollo was proud to say he could attest to it.

His gaze turned melancholic the longer he gazed at the view. It had been a long time since he'd last gone around Olympus; he had one precious spot, reserved for him and Hermes that he used to visit all the time with the younger God. A small smile crosses his face as he remembers how carefree they once were, when they weren't so stressed about everything Zeus pushed onto them, way before the so-called 'Bronze Age' of the humans. When the war fanaticism started, most of their bonds ended. The Gods now, Apollo knew, were fragmented.

Ridding his mind of the shameful thought, the blond-haired archer quickly walked over to the door to whose peg he had hung one of his most favorite clothes. Contrary to popular opinion, Gods didn't use their powers for everything, it was impossible; they too had a limit to how much of their energy they could allow to be sapped for every action they took. For Gods like Apollo, it was especially tough to retain much energy; holding domain over so many areas often made it difficult for him to concentrate his abilities to one spot.

Shrugging on his coat, Apollo thought for a moment, before deciding he could use some of his resource to zap himself to the place he wanted to visit. He let a mild smirk slip its way onto his face before he was whisked away by his own will.


He appeared, in a gust of wind, in front of a white-fenced enclosure, of sorts, that had trees practically growing their way out of it, and vines covering the gates. He slowly made his way inside, feet automatically leading him to a small patch of land covered with shrubs with dark green leaves. They were laurel shrubs.

Daphne.

Apollo felt the familiar burn of tears from the back of his eyes, could not help the light trembling of his lips as he settled in front of the plants, gazing at them with broken eyes.

"I'm sorry," He croaked out, "I know I say this every time, and it will never be enough; I took away your choices, I drove you to this and...I absolutely hate myself for this.

"But, you know, I really did love you. And, I think you would have loved me too, if I had just given you a chance, if I hadn't been so stupid as to piss off Eros. We...maybe I wouldn't have such terrible luck with love if I didn't do that, maybe everyone I felt vaguely romantic feeling for wouldn't meet such horrible fates as well."

He got up, dusting off his jeans; he couldn't stand being there any longer. Every moment he spent in that area, he could only remember the cheerful nymph, the terror encompassing her youthful face as he chased her like a beast, like a savage.

He moved on to his quiet spot, and was pleased to find it intact, almost unchanged, in fact. There was a little clearing made by the looming trees, in which there was a mini pond and a stone garden bench embedded in the soil. As a child, Apollo would often sit there and try to compose some music on his lyre, or to write proper poems, not the ones he used to annoy people. Hermes would sometimes drop by and suggest something; other times, he would distract Apollo and embarrass him about the time he let the Messenger God steal his cattle.

Those were good times.

He tensed up when he heard a twig snap behind him, and he immediately whirled around, arm ready to materialize his bow and arrow, when he blinked, mouth slightly agape.

There was a teenage girl standing there. Just staring at him.

She seemed to have eventually realized that he had noticed her, because her face nearly cracked with how wide the grin she was sporting was. Her grey eyes sparkled happily, and Apollo dazedly thought that this was the first time he'd ever seen happy grey eyes; most of the time they were angry or numb, if his memory served him correctly.

"Hi Mr. Apollo!" She smiled at him, hand tucking a rod-straight lock of ash brown hair behind her ear, "It's great to meet you!"

"Um," He mumbled, caught off guard for the first time in centuries, "It's nice to meet you too?"

"Oh, this is so cool!" She gushed, cheeks coloring in her exhilaration, "But what are you doing here, no offense?"

"Oh, uh, I was just taking a stroll."

It slipped out of his mouth before he realized he was talking to an absolute stranger and, with dread, he quickly decided he should be the one asking questions.

"Not that it isn't a pleasure to talk to you," He said smoothly, some of his usual confidence returning as he familiarized himself with the situation, "But who are you?"

"Oh, that was silly of me!" The nymph, from what Apollo could deduce, giggled, "My name's Melia; I'm the spirit of the Ash Tree."


Yep, this is chapter two! It's actually pretty important to the plot, no matter how inconsequential it may seem right now. In other news, Melia is not in this story so that she can date Apollo or something; that's never going to happen, I can guarantee you that.

Meliae are actually a group of nymphs who symbolize the ash tree; they usually appear as a group but can appear in singularity once in a while. And since it benefits my story, I've decided to go for the latter option, obviously :)

To 'Guest', whoever you may be: Thank you very much for your kind words! I hope you'll still like it as the fic progresses!

Anyway, please don't hesitate to let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is always appreciated!

~beingawesome