pure, somewhat shonen-aiish (male/male...gay) fluff.
They once said
The Greeks once said that there was a chariot that drew the sun across
the sky. And every day Helios
would drive the chariot, golden and shining, pulled by a team of gilded
horses, bringing the day.
Blain had always been infatuated with the image of Helios. It pissed
him off that no one remembered the
shining god. 'Apollo was the god of the sun' they said. It was always
Apollo and Artemis, never Helios
and Selene. But he remembered, ever since he was four and his grandmother
had given him the Book, the
one with the pictures and that one page of Helios, drawing the sun
across the sky.
When he was twelve Blain had researched, 'an independent study'
his mother called it. There was so little
to be known about the god. One or two stories, it was odd.
When he was fourteen he opened the Book from when he was four,
looking back at that first picture. And
something collected in his chest, a feeling stronger than the slight
obsession of the past ten years. His God.
His shining one.
The Gods themselves watched the boy, coming back into being as
they were remembered. Even if only
remembered by someone looking, someone searching through piles of musty
books for a lower of their order.
And Helios was there, still shadowed by Apollo, who, like the
others so often mentioned in western civilization
classes, never truly faded. He sat, waiting, watching when he could,
driving his golden chariot across the sky,
day after day. Watching as a small, dark haired boy sat at his desk,
pouring over books far older than the child's
own great grandfather.
Someone once said that if you believed in something hard enough
it would be true. So when a twenty-year-old
mortal sleeps in the arms of a Pagan god is it fate's doing, or his
own?
please review?
Reina