The nymphs of Artemis were bathing within the riverbend. Thalia would have joined them, but—

She was sitting alongside the cliffs, her Father's element blowing through her growing hair. Her Acrophobia was not controlling her thoughts. It was one thing she had come to terms with in this time as she knew without a doubt that her Father would let no harm come to her.

She had also come to terms with there being nothing wrong with her fear. Ariadnê was afraid of the deep sea and uncontrollable storms. The only reason that the younger girl had even been comfortable visiting her Father's realm was because transportation was always godspeed.

(Her younger cousin had punched her brother in the shoulder quite harshly for spilling that secret. She had then told Thalia if she had to consciously make the decision to willingly let herself just fall to the ocean floor, then it was not one she would make. Even her Father had forgotten all the creatures that lingered in his realm and she had no interest in meeting them.)

Thinking of the twins brought forth the worry for her Family that she left. They were all struggling with the death of Zagreus which only would have dug in deeper after her departure. She was feeling horrible herself, especially considering that she was leaving Annabeth behind once again.

But Thalia just couldn't stay there any longer.

Not with the actual ghost of Luke haunting her.

It was like the weirdest shaped love pentagon. Luke split his affection between her, Annabeth, and Ariadnê. Annabeth traded love sick glances with Percy in equal form, not even noticing Luke's feelings. Ariadnê pretended he didn't exist while Connor looked as if she was the one to place the moon, sun, and stars in the sky.

And while there may have been something for him once upon a time, the time had long since passed. She wasn't that girl anymore.

Besides, Thalia needed to breathe.

Losing Jason all those years ago hurt, but she learned to do with the pain. But now to lose Zagreus and to the same bane of her existence. Zagreus was doting and protective. He looked after in a way she had never known until she joined the hunters. He answered any question she asked and was always willing to help her train her powers.

And well, the greeks loved tragedy, but she wished that they came up with some new material.

Thalia had felt like she was wandering aimlessly around the world without an anchor.

And to see the way how the twins had such a close bond between them and how they doted on Nico who surprisingly allowed it. She felt like she wasn't really a child of the Big Three. The three of them each represented the three brothers. There was no place for Thalia, the actual child of Ζεύς. Even training with Katie and teaching her how to deal with the pressure of being a child of a Kronidê and the expectations on them didn't really help matters. She would represent her mother after all. Hestia was a maiden goddess.

And Thalia would be damned to the pit before she represented her stepmother.

She felt guilty for leaving Katie also. That pressure wasn't something to handle alone. She didn't see how Nico handled it without the twins but—she was feeling like a caged bird in the people watched their every move, judging them for how they grieve. It was sickening.

The leaves crunched behind her, and she knew that it was only because the person wanted her to hear them. She was not surprised to see that it was Artemis coming to sit beside her.

The goddess traced her eyes over her, "You seem in distress, sister." She reached for her hand, "Do you still grieve for Zagreus?"

"A part of me always shall," she admitted. "But now—I worry for my sisters and brothers that I left behind."

Artemis' eyes glowed under the fading sun. She glanced towards the sky, watching as Hêlios' began to set his chariot. Her gaze moved onward to the kingdom nautical miles away from them. She could see the ten remaining children going about their duties. They were slowly discarding their mourning clothes as they began to make peace with the death of Zagreus.

She looked back at her newest sister, "They will be fine. You are all strong warriors."

"You do not even know us," Thalia countered, though she felt her face warm at the compliment. "There is so much that I wish to tell you, but I cannot for most of them are not my secrets to tell."

The goddess laughed gently. "There is no secret that will not become undone." She patted her shoulder, "Your family will be Moirai will see to it themselves. You all have managed to pique the interest of the Olympioi in ways that no other mortal has before. Though, I suppose mortal isn't the word. Immortality looks quite good on you all."

Immortality?

Thalia turned to look at her sharply. She thought that she was the only one to have immortality partial as it may be. Artemis laughed once more. "Your immortality is still young and diluted. Partial for the moment, but in a few years' time... you will gain full immortality."

The look of shock on Thalia's face could have put The Scream painting to shame.

Artemis nodded with an amused smile, "There may be a day where you will be considered gods by your people for you all shall never age. Háidēs' child, the chief of death as the deathless Ghost King for eons to come."

A shiver ran down Thalia's spine.

She knew what she was getting into when she rejoined the hunters.

But none of the others had shown any inclination for immortality.

She remembered the resolve in Percy's eyes as he refused godhood. She remembered the resigned acceptance in Ariadnê's expression as she turned it down alongside him.

"I've said this before I'm not in the business of abandoning my brother."

(It was only now that she remembered that the twins' lifestring was woven as one. Even if she had been to accept it, Percy did not. And that kept them at an impasse.)

Artemis tensed slowly, her gaze catching onto something that Thalia could not see. Her expression crumbled into one of shock, pain, and pity.

"Oh, Apóllōn."

Thalia did not like the sound of that.


Time flies when you're having fun.

There were days where Ariadnê was caught up in her grief. Losing Zagreus was like a blow to the heart that she was not prepared for. She wasn't close to his reincarnated form in the original time. He did spare time to tease her whenever he stopped by to see his brothers when they were training her, but she wouldn't have called him a friend. And even now, despite being the first one to meet Zagreus, she wasn't as close to him as Nico and Will.

And yet she still found herself, needing a moment to herself where she could just grieve. Because losing him and knowing that he was going to be reborn into Dionysos just made the knowledge that she could never go home to her family settled into her bones.

She would live there and she would die there.

She better get reincarnated into a butterfly or something.

It was hard to do so with so many people watching her every move, but she knew better than to keep it bottled in. Sometimes Krókos would see the grief crawling over here and find things to occupy their times.

Most of the time it was through training.

There were tricks that she and Percy had not learned themselves. He showed her how to siphon poisons instead of her sneaking ambrosia kisses. He even taught her how to transfer her quaking powers into other objects.

She couldn't wait to show Percy.

And then the day came where fate met a crossroad.

Unrequited love in its truest fashion.

Ariadnê had not seen Apóllōn since she had been in Sparta, especially not when the tension between her and Huákinthos had been at its climax. She knew that the god was still visiting the kingdom because of the love bites that Huákinthos paraded around smugly.

(Ariadnê liked to believe that she was mature now, so she didn't bother to give any indication that the sight bothered her.)

See, there was only a few days left before she set to return to her family, and it was the only remaining day she had off before the treaty was officially signed. She and Krókos had immediately taken advantage of it. With permission from Amyklas, they manned one of the kitchens where instead of making teganites, she made strawberry pancakes and scrambled eggs.

She did pretty well despite the fact that the ingredients she used was not the processed stuff from the future. In fact, it tasted better.

The two had walked arm and arm around the kingdom before he showed her to this little hide away area on the banks of the Eurotas river.

Ariadnê and Krókos both felt their hearts stop.

Not too far away from them, Ariadnê caught sight of golden curls blowing gently in the wind. A laugh that sounded like bells rang through the air. Tears welled up in her eyes immediately.

Apóllōn.

Ariadnê had to stop herself from rushing into his embrace and letting the truth of her spill from her mouth. But she knew that she could not do so, not with the way he oh so gently cradled Huákinthos in his arms or even the way that he softly brushed hair from the face of the prince while they bore matching smiles.


A very perfect friend was this friend of the sun-god.


They were in love.

And it hurt her so much.

By the gods above, it hurt so very much.

She wanted Apóllōn to be happy. She could remember the moments when they were still in their frenemies stage where he would speak of his past lovers. The ones that were so successful that he would stop death for them and the ones that were such failures that he felt mortal and died with them.

(Oh, how terrible it must be to love something that death could touch.)

She never wanted to hear the pain in his voice ever again. She had not been exaggerating when she told the prince that she would sacrifice her life thread for his chance at eternal happiness. She would happily wash away all his grief and anger and do whatever she saw so that he may never feel sorrow grace his heart again.

Ariadnê loved Apóllōn. She hated that it took so long for her to realize that, but she figured that it made her and her version of the god a better understanding of each other. The love she held for him was overwhelming, like a bucket under a raging waterfall.

She wanted him to be with her. She wanted to be selfish for a change and secret away his love for herself. She just wanted to be the first choice to someone.

(Oh, how easier life would be if she and Hermês had fallen for each other.)

Ariadnê carefully looked away. She wanted to rush away from the scene and the jeering that the guards behind them gave her.

Her gaze fluttered to her brother, noting that he was not moving either. His gaze was not onto the two lovers before them, but instead, he fell sick with love at the sight of a dryad not too far from them.

She wondered if this was why he found the little hide away.

Ariadnê remembered this story.

The heart of Hermês was not the only to be broken in relation to Krókos. No, there was another version in which her brother had fallen for Smilax the dryad. Dryads and mortals could not be together just as mortals could not be with gods. The gods above had taken pity on her dear brother, turning him into a saffron flower as he allowed Thanatos to sweep him off to the realm of Háidēs as his heart broke within the land of living.

Eudaimonia had forsaken them as the day was not made for them.

Ariadnê reached out to grab Krókos' hand so that they could leave when the sight of Apóllōn and Huákinthos separating caught her attention. The son of Lētṓ waved his hand and a stack of discus appeared at their feet.

This was not her day.


And so there came that day, fore-ordained by the Fates, when Apóllōn and Huákinthos played a match together.


Oh.

This was a test.

Ariadnê was nearly frozen as she watched the lovers' giggle and play together.

Her eyes scanned the horizon, immediately landing on a handsome, winged youth. Zephyros shows his savage eye from his place of look-out.

She should warn the lovers. She should stop this.

She had already begun changing the fate of Krókos.

Apóllōn would never move on from Huákinthos. She knew that to be true. He loved her so thoroughly, but she always knew a part of his heart still belonged to Huákinthos. The prince was the one whose death led Apóllōn wept with those eyes that never wept.

She had been okay with that then.

But this was now...

She could understand where Zephyros' jealousy was coming from. She wanted nothing more than to destroy this happy picture in front of her also. But Apóllōn knew not that he was keeping the youth for envious Zephyros.

And yet the two shared kisses whenever they caught each other's discus; she wanted nothing more than to salt the earth with the blood of the prince. She wanted him gone.

Apóllōn was her beloved.

And so, Ariadnê stayed silent as she watched the two play. Her wrath built in her heart like thundering waves against banks of the ocean. Her fingers dug painfully into Krókos' arm for every moment that Apóllōn swept Huákinthos into his embrace.


Huákinthos excelled at all sports, and when he played quoits it was sheer joy for Apóllōn, who loved all things beautiful, to watch him as he stood to throw the disc, his taut muscles making him look like Hermês, ready to spurn the cumbering earth from off his feet.


Krókos turned to her, noting the frustration on her face. "Ariadnê," he whispered softly in concern. He turned in the direction that she was gazing, and gasped at the sight before them.

He knew of her feelings for the Olympian before them. Was there not a person in the world that did not?

Huákinthos had raged for weeks after the war about the upstart sea princess that thought she had any right to lay claim to Apóllōn's heart. If he was not so afraid of her wrath of her Father, he would have called for her head.

(He had taken pleasure in watching how she pushed down her own rage as Apóllōn and his mother presented him around her kingdom.)

Krókos had not given it much thought when she appeared in Sparta, her otherworldly looks capturing the eyes and hearts of many. He had watched on the sidelines amused as the prince and his sister antagonized one another.

(He had been privately surprised by how diplomatic his sister had been even when he could feel her rage throughout the air.)

He was ashamed that he had not stepped in at first when he heard of the poisons being added to her food even as none understood why she was not dying after each attempt.

(It was after the tenth attempt that he started to focus on separating the poison for her.)

Her eyes slammed shut tightly as he drew her into his embrace. As much as he wanted to gain the affection of the pretty dryad, his sister was of more importance.


And just like that one door of fate was closed.


He wrapped her up in his arms as silent tears streamed down her face. A shiver of foreboding ran through him as he pulled her away from the lovers. He wondered if Anterôs had forsaken her as he led her towards their guards.


Huákinthos made a valiant throw, and Apóllōn took his place, and cast the discus high and far. Huákinthos ran forward eager to measure the distance, shouting with excitement over a throw that had indeed been worthy of a god.


"Watch this," Huákinthos laughed aloud as he chased after Apóllōn's discus.


Thus, did Zephyros gain his opportunity.


Ariadnê froze in place, tense in the arms of her brother. She wondered if they could all feel the power leaking out of her.

Krókos hoped that she would not bring about a storm due to her jealousy.

POP!

Ariadnê's eyes snapped open as her power exploded from her. The blue was as dark as the storm clouds their Father summoned.

She morphed into mist as she dissolved out of her brother's hold. The guards drew their weapons in synchrony, but Krókos paid them no attention. He was searching for his sister when he caught sight of the shadow moving.

He looked up, tracking the quoit as it sailed through the air.


Swiftly through the treetops ran the murmuring West Wind and smote the discus of Apóllōn with a cruel hand.


So many things happened at once.

Ariadnê reappeared.

Huákinthos jerked back.

Apóllōn blinked in shock.

Zephyros narrowed his eyes.

Krókos screamed.

The quoit struck.


The red blood gushed to the ground, an unquenchable stream, and darkness fell on the eyes... Apóllōn sought every remedy, he had recourse to cunning arts, he anointed all the wound, anointed it with ambrosia and with nectar; but all remedies are powerless to heal the wounds of Fate.


WORD COUNT: 2,973

WORDS TO KNOW:

tiganites - Greek-style pancakes

THINGS TO KNOW:

1) Technically speaking, Ari would not have been the one to go to Sparta. Women didn't have many rights in Ancient Greece and even less specfically in Sparta and Athens. They were not allowed to take part in any politics, so you know this is creative liberties.