As he stood with both his brother and friends, Connor could not keep his gaze from straying towards Ariadnê as she was practically bouncing on the heels of her feet. Beckendorf and Silena had crafted her beautiful armor that was short only of his Father's skill. With Silena's direction and Ariadnê's own input, the garments had been form-fitting, each line of her undersuit made of fine thread crafted from molten celestial bronze that emphasized each curve of her body.
Her hair had been braided into dual buns at the top of her head while the rest flowed freely down her back in a mockery of a blackened waterfall. Flowers, rubies, and pearls decorated the strands like glitter as the pins holding the buns together were sharpened into small blades.
He could not see her face, but behind his own eyelids, he could almost see the bloodlust in her eyes.
(It was one of the many things he loved about her. How she personified her Father's wrath. She was clever and quick-minded. She was beautiful and skilled. She was intelligent and rational. It was no wonder that she fit so perfectly between the cabins of Apóllōn, Hermês, Aphrodítē, and Árēs. She had no equal except her own brother, but as much as Connor liked Percy… he was not in love with the dude.)
Connor and the others tensed when the five of them straightened. He knew that it meant the veil that clouded the eyes of the Olympioi and the gods around them had been removed.
Clarisse and Annabeth and Travis clenched their weapons tightly. No doubt that Travis and Annabeth wished to be at the side of their paramours, but Katie and Percy have both proven that they could handle their own. Clarisse knew the same of Ariadnê also even though he understood her shiftiness.
Neither of them trusted anyone to watch her back better than they could.
(Connor would argue and say that Percy would. Ariadnê may be blind to see it, but her brother cherishes her above all others even if he was completely oblivious to how she felt second to all others in his life.)
She shifted once more, body aimed to protect Percy even at the cost of herself. (He wondered absently if Annabeth ever felt slighted at how Ariadnê included her as a threat to Percy.) Her head was tilted to the heavens. Connor was not the only one to startle when the cry for battle roared around them.
They put their training to use (the training that all children of Hermês and Aphrodítē were skilled at. Unnoticed and underestimated) as they dutifully followed as discreetly as their armor allowed. It was like standing in a slaughterhouse as the warriors from both Sparta and Athens tore into each other.
And then—
As if Ζεύς Astrapaios stood atop his marble throne and cast his master bolt from the sky to strike the earth.
The very air they breathed was charged with tension, static crackling throughout the atmosphere as the metallic taste of electricity sat on his tongue. The shadows around them thickened and deepened and stretched around them until the very plains of the earth were hidden beneath. But Connor could still sense them lingering under the shade of Erebus, twisting and turning and ready to cast judgment on all that trample the earth. The very ground beneath their feet trembled under the combined might of twins as their inner storm shook the earth.
(By the gods above, he was starting to sound like them. Lord Háidēs and Lady Hestia would be pleased.)
Suddenly—
Ariadnê was slipping between the masses. He saw no weapon in her hands, but bodies dropped left to right as she moved between them as she was gliding along the ice. Her brother followed in her shadows, bringing storms of unseen power down onto their heads aided by Thalia as her arrows were charged with lightning that glinted under the moonlight. The Spartan warriors fell to their knees in face of their rage, not able to see the enemy that came from the shadows.
And on the other side in an intriguing mirror image, Katie and Nico hounded those of Athens. The very earth became their enemy as skeletons and flora alike pulled them into chasms made from their power. Mortal history will go on to romanticized the rape of Persephónē, but nothing will equal to the power of Life and Death as the two gave reason to soon fear the sound of their names. With every step they took new flora appeared in their wake whether it be figs, apples, pears, or pomegranates. Those whom they seemingly missed would find themselves drawn to the fruits created from the blood of their enemies and soon find themselves dead at the roots.
Connor had never been afraid of children of Dēmḗtēr, and he was understandably wary of a child of Háidēs–though he saw Nico as his own kin— but looking at them now, as the constraints of time that they faced in future-past faded from them… even he was terrified as the familiar sights of enemies falling to the ground.
Seeing all this… he wondered how Will and Chris and Rachel were fearing back at the kingdom as they kept the place safe from those that wished it harm. Clarisse and Will had been terrifying when they spoke of the poisons that they could create to any that may try to strike now that they appeared weakened. Strategically so, neither Annabeth or Clarisse or Ariadnê had felt it wise to leave their kingdom so undefended.
(Connor will admit it had been dreadfully boring listening to them argue of how to establish their dominance. At one point, they had agreed to let them come to Castellan, sink their ships to the bottom of the sea and rise it again to take their spoils. But then thought came of those that might appear on their lands from the other end and suddenly fighting hand to hand combat was back on the table. Though, they had all disagreed when Ariadnê's bloodlust rang its head and she offered to fight all their enemies barehand with nothing but the clothes on her back. He wasn't the least bit surprised when Thalia finally zapped her unconscious.)
Speaking of Ariadnê, he turned his gaze back to her, tracking her trajectory across the battlefield. She prowled across the battlefield like a tiger lying in the wake. Her gait was filled with confidence and her very spirit was charged with danger. He ignored the way his heart ached as he realized where she was headed and why.
[And maybe it was time to let her go. Maybe Travis was right. Maybe Percy was right, the oblivious fool that his sister fondly called him. She had never noticed him, not in the way of a lover, and she may never will.
He suffered through her "I do not have a crush" on Luke phase, and even now, it was strange to watching her avoid a ghost with a shocking amount of success.
He suffered through her "friendship" with his father, and though she fiercely denied it, Connor could still remember the dazed and shy look on her face after one of their "training adventures".
Finally, there was Apóllōn. Connor could remember the exact moment her hatred had turned to love. He could remember crying in his cabin, not knowing if the ache in his heart was from grief, survivors' guilt, or just plain heartache. How could he compare to Ζεύς' favored son?
And yet, he still could not move on from the one kiss they had shared as nothing more than a bet between friends. One kiss alongside the warmth of time that he knew her… how could he not fall in love with her?]
Still— he found himself venturing closer, shadowed by Clarisse as she kicked away the prince's opponent. The two stood before each other, her sword pressed to adam's apple. He was too far to hear the words shared between the two, but from the look on Ariadnê's face… it wasn't pretty.
When the prince sneered and aimed his sword at Ariadnê, it took everything in him to not leap forward. Ariadnê wasn't one of the Twin Swords for show. She could handle herself; just as she did when she leapt forward to attack.
Connor could only sit back and watch the show.
With azure blue eyes as bottomless as the sea, Ariadnê's gaze was piercing as she snarled and pressed Stormsurge deeper into the prince's throat drawing blood that she could sense as easily as she sensed the sea. Huákinthos looked not even the slightest bit terrified, but that was okay. She will make him fear her.
But first— "Tell me, your highness, what makes you worthy of the sharpshooter's love when I am not?"
The hue of Huákinthos's eyes darkened with fury; bemused at the sight of the small girl in front of him, "I have my love for him and his best interest at heart. If not wanting me makes him happy, I'll oblige by his rules. What do you have for Apóllōn's best interest that's not yours?"
The earth shook with her wrath as the sea rushed to her command. Water swirled around, brining high winds and a rage of storms as a prince of the Olympian Mousai and the princess of the Aigaiôn Sea stood before each other.
Ariadnê lowered her sword slowly, knowing that no harm could befall her in her Father's weapon even as Stormsurge sang sweet promises of death and glory in her ears.
She was in control and he knew it.
(Ariadnê knew without a doubt that gods were watching them from Olympos. She wondered how this looked to them—children … mortals with immeasurable power appearing out of nowhere. This was the destiny that they were to ensure. This was not fate. But she will make it so or she will take her last breath with her own sword piercing her throat.)
Her laugh was mocking and bitter as she stared the prince down. Even millennia from this moment, she would never hold the heart of Apóllōn the way that Huákinthos cradles it. Even death did not spare her any inch in the gods' heart and she could admit that rankled. She had finally casted herself out of her brother's shadow only to thrust herself back into a man long dead.
She should have chosen Hermês when she had the chance as no one other than he put her first.
"You stand before me; in the eye of the storm of my own creation... you stand here before the eyes of the deathless gods and their fathers before them… you stand here and question me as if you hold any right. What do I have for my beloved's best interest? What do I have to give to him?" Her hand tightened around her sword as she opened her arms to the heavens, "I offer him my heart...my body... and my soul. I relinquish the secrets of my pasts and the truth that coat my lies. I willingly give him the light of my spirit. And may my aura please him when I no longer can." Her eyes swirled; a hint of something hidden within. "I never knew love until Apóllōn and the gods can drown me in the Lêthê and I still will never forget love so long as his light shines upon thy mother earth."
She knew not of what he saw in her gaze nor did she particularly care but she took great delight in the way his eyes widened in realization.
Yes, he may be a son of the Mousa Kleiô and the paramour of the great god Apóllōn. He may have the blood of Olympian Minor within him… but she— she bore the blood of one of the Twelve Olympian Major. She was the wrath of her Father's storm personified and the world bends to her will if she so commands it.
He would learn that well.
Her voice cut sharply like the winds around them as pointed as the sword in her hand as deadly as her soul commanded: "Listen well, knave. If the gods above are willing, I would go to the Moirai as I am and as all I will be. I will sacrifice my thread of life if it meant that sorrow will never grace his heart again. I will take all his grief and anger within me if he would be spared. I give all that I have to offer and more. Tis not some silly worship, boy. For a mortal enamored with a god, tis love in its barest form."
It was silent between them as the weight of her words sank into their bones. Still—Huákinthos narrowed his eyes as he readied his sword; determination and envy and love sat in his gaze, "I am in love with Apóllōn, and I will not step aside for you. Hear my words clearly, daughter of sea, I do not fear thee. I shall never tremble in sight of you."
Her sneer could curdle dairy as she fixed her stance, "Then you will die braver than most." The two leapt at each other; swords meeting in the middle. Her eyes narrowed before she twisted; sword taking aim for his throat. He blocked her, pushing her away. Ariadnê performed a backwards handspring. Concentrating on the power flowing through her legs; she could control the water in the air to swipe at him as she landed soundlessly.
She swung her sword through the air once and then twice before charging once more. She would show him why she was considered the second greatest sword master after her brother. Left to right and then right to left; the two continued their dance; oblivious to the lives fallen around them. Nothing mattered more than proving their superiority over the other.
Ariadnê loathed to admit; even if only to herself, that the prince was a worthy opponent. Sparta birthed warriors and being the lover to the god of archery and the golden sword showed his credibility. Her soul strained from the continuous use of her sword as her trident sang to her.
(Come forth child of storms and let the sea swallow the sun.)
Blue eyes flashing; lightning struck the ground between them as more storms gathered. She could feel the others; a circle of life. Air and lightning from Thalia; sea and storm from Percy; life and fertility from Katie; death and rebirth from Nico. She had trained with two gods; three if one counted the sparse visits from Artemis. She had been given advice by war itself and there was nothing stronger than love.
She twisted away; beautiful and deadly as a tsunami. With a slight twist of her wrist, her trident appeared in her hands; radiating death and destruction. Like the points of a pentagram; she, her brother, and her cousins stood radiating with the divinity in which they were born. The blue hue of her eyes had darkened considerably; they stared at Hyakinthos like the shadows her uncle controlled. Her hair flowed through the air like a squid's ink in the water as she firmly gripped her weapon.
She looked powerful.
She looked like a princess.
She looked like a warrior.
She looked like a goddess.
Twin blurs appeared at her sides; softening to reveal two boys with curly hair and twisted smiles. The taller of the two had vines woven into the strands bent to whisper into her ear. Ariadnê stiffened slightly as she slowly raised her gaze to the heavens.
(Apóllōn felt as if she was looking directly at him.)
Turning back to Huákinthos, she sniffed disdainfully, "How blessed thee may be, your highness as Lady Tykhê watches over thee. I have more important matters to attend to, but be warned, boy, I shall gain the heart of Phoibos even if I have to incite the wrath of my great-grandmother, Her Lady Gaia, upon you and your kingdom."
She placed her in hand in Connor's; smiling softly when he squeezed hers in comfort before she and her family around them disappeared into the night.
The only sign that she had been there was the ongoing storm.
A lone body lounge across the steps that led to the temple of Poseidón.
The sound of marching caught their attention before the warriors froze at the sight of blue eyes. A mocking smile twisted on their lips as the hue of their eyes blazed with power. "You pathetic and worthless Athenians always did make the wrong choice. If you were wise, you'll leave now while you still have the chance. If not, may Uncle grant your soul reprieve because I shall end you."
Taking in the sight of the young girl before them; they weighed the options she had gave. Her black hair that flowed through the wind with bangs that were the color of blueberries framed her slender face. Her eyes were a piercing blue just like the sea before the rage of a storm. While some thought her nothing more than a princess... a child... a girl playing dress; the others recognized her as the warrior that had fought against the Spartan Prince.
Her fangs glinted as she smirked tauntingly at them; dagger twirling through the air.
One brave, or simply idiotic, man took a step closer.
"I'm about to fuck up this man's whole career," she sang as she immediately sprang forward. The dagger in her hand elongated into a familiar sword as she cut him down before transforming into her deadly trident. She laughed freely and cruelly as they attempted to retreat when her weapon shifted into a spear. She danced around them as the spear turned into a staff before ducking and rolling under their legs when she changed it back into a dagger.
The sea was unforgiving as was it unpredictable. No one could guess what weapon she would wield as she twisted and turned. Like drops of rain from the sky; their bodies laid on the ground forever unmoving. It was not long before she was last to stand on the makeshift battlefield.
The blood around her moved and began to flow away from the temple as steps were heard from behind her. From a distance; one would assume the owner to be a male replica of her with the only difference being his eyes that were the color of the sea. He smiled a little amused as he looked at his sister drunk on battle lust. On his waist hung scrolls that only those born of Poseidón could lay claim to; "Are you having fun, sister?"
Head tilting to the side, she flicked the blood off her blades as she smiled sharply, "Why, yes I am. Thank you for asking."
Word Count: 3,146
Words to Know:
Ζεύς Astrapaios - Ζεύς, Lightning Maker
Comments from the Author:
1) To take something from a temple without permission of the gods and especially without being a preist(ess) was punishable by death and misery, so I worked around it by saying that only children of the specific god can take things from the temples.
2) Huákinthos had different beings listed for his parentage. Hesiod Great Eoiae Frag 16 names him the son of Magnes, but it also gives Huákinthos a different name. The Huákinthos in this is a mixture of all the different myths. I try to explain the best that I can in later chapters, but here, he is a spartan prince, the son of Kleiô and the grandson of Lakedaimon.
