Chapter 34: Love is harder

[David's Pov]

After I was done crying my eyes out, a late sense of embarrassment hit my feelings.

I was with my birth father for the first time in my life, and I didn't want to look like a crybaby in front of him.

"You took your sweet time," Ares said.

"Yeah, well, there was a lot of sand in my eyes." I sniffed.

Ares shrugged and snapped his fingers. A warm breeze swept over, and every indication of our training over my body disappeared. All the sweat and minor cuts and bruises were gone without a single trace. Even my clothes were sowed and cleaned.

"Thanks,"

Ares ruffled my head as an answer.

"Oh right, that reminds me."

He fished around in the pocket of his leather jacket until he found what he was looking for, and toss it in my direction. I barely managed to catch it before it fell to the ground. It was a small key for a motorcycle with two buttons written in Ancient Greek: 'summon' and 'auto'.

My heart started to beat faster. Could this mean…

I looked up at Ares for confirmation. Instead of giving one, he cracked a smile at my obvious excitement.

"What are you staring at me for?" He said. "Go try it."

With trembling fingers, I clicked on 'summon'.

For a split second, nothing happened. Then a burst of flame exploded in mid-air and the very same Harley Davison from the abandoned car repair shop was standing in front of me.

"That's your 15th birthday present, kid. I know it's a few months late, but—"

"Yes!"

I jumped on the seat and inserted the key. The engine roared into life, and this time no one was here to stop the test ride. I've heard some old motorcycles needed some idle time with the engine on so that it needed to warm up.

This motorcycle was on max fever from the get-go. And I do not mean that figuratively. It accelerated at neck-breaking speed, easily reaching and out speeding the Calydonian Boar's charge in less than 10 seconds. The training ground was already far behind my back as I rode off straight into the dark desert.

A white line of sand dust trailed from the back tire, glistening as it scattered into the air. Then I realized, the sparkling objects were small pebbles of glass—the tires of the motorcycle were on fire!

For a split second, I panicked. But for a bike with both tires on fire, the wheels were very much stable. The acceleration was picking even more speed, but I didn't feel the wind resistance as it should be; it was substantially lighter.

This was not just a new motorcycle.

It was a new magic motorcycle.

I could barely hear my exclamation of joy over the roaring engine. This was hands down the best gift I've ever gotten in my life.

After riding the flaming motorbike to my heart's content, I finally calmed down enough to make my way back to my father. I was a bit worried when I first stopped because I had no idea where I was, but when I put the bike on 'Auto' mode, it started to make its way back without any steering.

Ares had a huge grin etched over his face as I returned.

"Thanks, dad."

"Try not to break it before your next birthday." He said.

Then, he snapped his fingers to take us back to the limousine. Personally, I wanted to ride the motorcycle back just to surprise Zoë.

And this time, my wish was actually granted.

A small spark of red light flickered between Ares's snap. Needless to say, there was no teleportation.

"What the…?"

He snapped his finger again. Another red spark. Again, No teleportation.

This time, Ares spat out several swear words in various languages; I recognized Greek, Latin, and a small portion of German for some reason. Before I could ask what was going on, he tossed his scarlet sword into the air. It turned into a bigger Harley than mine (figures), and he jumped on the vehicle and roared off.

I got on my bike as well. It was still in auto mode, but this time it didn't move on its own. I sat there for a good half a minute or so before coming up with a theory.

"Hey, can you go after my dad—Ares, the god of war?"

The engine immediately lit up and it sped off. I clung on to both handles for dear life. I quickly learned that with the amount of speed this bike could have, it would be much more reassuring to steer it on my own rather than letting it move by itself.

Even before I could properly see the limousine, I could tell something was not right.

From far away, flashes of pink and red crackled around the air. It didn't take long to notice that the lights were more like lightning bolts; an arch of pure energy getting tossed around with minimum to no control or care.

I could see my dad was in the middle of a heated argument. The language he spoke was ancient Greek, but the speed and the ferocity behind his words made it near impossible to hear what the argument was about.

What concerned me more was that his body was constantly flickering with red light. Watching it made my skin tingle as if they were burnt up by the harsh sun or a nuclear explosion.

I vaguely recalled hearing from the camp that when you see a god in their 'full form', or 'true form', the power getting emitted would be so strong that it would evaporate everything around them. That was more than enough reason to peel my eyes off Ares to move over to the woman and…

…whoa…

I've heard numerous 'love stories, both fiction and non-fiction. It was a prime topic to the juveniles at Westover Hall. In Camp Half-Blood, the rumors of who had a crush on who, or who was dating some other guy/girl was a heated topic amongst everyone. Even Sherman had 'interest' in some girl at the Demeter cabin.

There, the most common archetype used was that "time seemed to slow down" when they looked upon their crush. I had no idea why that was something that happened, until now.

She was, without any questions, the most beautiful being I have ever seen. And as I was lost in her beauty, I vaguely acknowledged that she would hold that title no matter who I go on to meet in the future.

The peak of Beauty as a concept manifested in real life.

She was so unrealistically beautiful, she bypassed every other emotion I'd normally have and went straight to awe and admiration as if looking upon a national treasure.

I was too busy looking at her, that I didn't notice Ares shout "Wait!" and look up. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second, and that was enough to jolt me out of my trance. I immediately ducked behind the dune, but Ares simply landed right in front of my nose.

His sunglass was nowhere to be seen. The flaming balls of eyes were much more intimidating when they glared down at you with an intention to kill. Even if I wasn't panicking internally, the heat emanating would've been enough to make sweat pour down my back.

"…In my defense, I couldn't hear anything."

I'm surprised I didn't stutter through that sentence.

Ares snorted, his nostrils flared with small cracks of fire.

"Good. You are done here. Leave now."

"What? But—"

"No, he is not leaving!"

The woman Ares was arguing with interrupted. Even while cowering under the fiercest god imaginable, her demeanor dragged my eyes over to her. It was like she demanded everything's attention by existing alone, and nothing could resist her.

Well, nothing apart from a god, because Ares was unfazed by her appearance. He spat on the ground and glared at both of us, probably wondering which of us to gut out first.

Nonetheless, the woman marched up to Ares armed with a fury of her own.

"I am putting my foot down on this, Ares."

"He is my son. You don't have anything—"

"Well, that's not what you thought for the last 12 years, wasn't it?"

Ares gritted his teeth. For a moment, his body glowed up significantly; like it was a bomb that was seconds away from blowing up in fury.

But the moment passed. And the fury of the war god died down.

He took a glance at me again. This time, his eyeball of flames was no warmer than a match light.

"Fine. Do what you want." He grumbled. He morphed the sword into a bike once more and lugged himself on. "Not my problem if both of you end up in Tartarus."

With that final mic-drop, he drove off into the night.

I knew the expression "Go to Tartarus!" was used as an insult. But Ares's tone suggested that he meant it in a more literal sense. That we, both the woman and I, now had a likely chance of getting cast down there.

I thought of the pit I saw with Cadmus. Just recalling that hideous memory sent a cold shiver down my back. I would certainly prefer not to be thrown down there.

The woman made a huge sigh at the furthering back of the war god before crouching down to meet at eye level.

"I'm sorry for that, David. But don't worry; your father is much more of a drama queen than most people think. I'd say he got that from his father. He'll come around in the next century or so. Much faster if you succeed in your quest."

"I—ok?"

Her words were too fast to catch on normally, and at the moment I had too many conflicting emotions colliding with each other to process what she said.

The woman must've noticed that too, because she giggled (which made several butterflies go crazy in my stomach), muttered "Sorry," and then tapped my forehead.

All of my raging emotions cleared out. Subsiding into nothing but a small murmur.

"Better?" The woman asked.

"Y…es. Thanks…"

I trailed off. I had a feeling that I should know who she was; it was such an obvious answer, but my brain was flat out refusing to do any work right now.

"Ah, yes. Introductions. First impressions are important after all."

She stood up and cleared her throat, fixed her clothes, and put on some other extra makeup. After that, she stretched out both of her arms as if to give a hug to an imaginary audience.

"I am Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty.

And I have been waiting to talk to you, David."

[Line Break]

[David's Pov]

The inside of the limousine was riddled with the scent of various perfumes.

Normally that would be enough to make my gag reflex kick in, but when you are with Beauty: personified, you tend not to be bothered over something as minuscule as the air you breathe in.

Aphrodite was also the most unique in appearance out of the 5 Olympians I've met. Instead of having a set image of their choosing like the others, Aphrodite seemed to change her outlook every time I looked at her.

At first, she looked somewhat similar to Zoë. Similarly copper-colored skin with dark hair and an upturned nose. Then it shifted into someone I had no idea who it was—someone with well-tanned brown skin with glossy black hair, only to change again into the counselor from the Aphrodite Cabin. Selina, I believe.

"Ah, yes. I know I could be a delight to watch," Aphrodite said. "And you have quite amount of seeds planted ahead in your journey."

"Seeds?"

Aphrodite giggled behind her hand.

"Regardless of the time, all the greatest heroes have had many…affairs in their life."

"But I'm not a hero. Not yet."

The sigil tingled slightly. I clenched my fist tightly.

I would get there eventually. I was just not there yet.

I was also very much unsure about whether what she was implying was a good thing or not. I do remember seeing a pattern where most heroes ended tragically, and at least half of them were related to relationship issues one way or another.

Also, the only one with a happy ending—Perseus, was also one of the only heroes that had only one wife, Andromeda. I didn't point that out because I'd rather not get fried by pink lightning, but you get the idea.

"Oh, I'll guarantee you'll get there eventually. But that's not what I need from you.

We don't have much time. Can I see your sword?"

"Huh?"

I wondered if this was some elaborate prank, but Aphrodite held out her hands with the most brilliant smile etched on her lips.

"Your sword, please." She said once more.

This time, her words felt different. It was hard to describe; imagine if her words had a sort of magnetic power that willed you to do whatever she said. Kind of like a spell or a charm.

Before I could ask the reasoning, I had brought out the black sword and carefully placed it over her palms.

Aphrodite's smile wavered as if I just put a nuclear bomb in her hands. She balanced it on one hand and traced the flat side of the blade with the other.

To my amazement, the metal blade became transparent with a faint glow emanating from the inside. There was a one, somewhat short string inside.

Aphrodite let a small squeak of terror escape her mouth. When I looked up, her face was chalkboard white. She did her best to maintain her smile, but I could clearly see that she was distressed immensely.

"That, David," the goddess said with a trembling voice, "is your String of Destiny."

I looked down at the string.

It was a dark brownish color. And on closer look, I also realized that one of the edges was jagged as if a huge pair of safety scissors snipped it.

As if sentencing one's death.

"Oh." My voice was much squeaker than Aphrodite's.

"By the String of Destiny, you mean that this…used to be—"

A lump suddenly formed in my throat from sheer anxiety alone. A specific line from the prophecy started to creep back into my mind.

A stringless hero embarks his travail.

I desperately shoved it to the back of my mind.

"—belong to the Three Fates?"

"Yes." Aphrodite nodded.

"But it is here. In my sword."

"Yes." Aphrodite nodded again.

I had to hold back a scream. I haven't been this terrified since the pit of Tartarus.

For anyone who needs context, the Three Fates are these three ladies that control the fates of every being in the universe. Their influence over the fates is absolute to the point that even the gods can't control what happens to the string…

…except for that one time when a guy named Sisyphus did. By imprisoning the god of death Thanatos, he managed to make all the strings get entangled with each other because no one could die.

And he got severely punished for that crime. Forced to push up a heavy boulder to the top of the mountain, but the bolder would always fall right before it reaches the top.

Now, Sisyphus was one of the guys I held some respect for. At worst, he was the best prankster the world had to offer. At best, his story represented that humans resisted their given fate, no matter the results. That's a message I could get behind.

But that didn't mean I was overjoyed to find my String of Destiny hidden in my sword.

"What is this even doing here?!" I asked. But even as I did, I started to piece things together.

"My dad! He gave me the sword, he—"

Aphrodite put a finger over her lips. My mouth automatically shut closed and made no other sound apart from breathing.

"I understand this is a lot to take in. After all, this is the first occurrence of a string being out of the Moirai's control." She said in a hushed voice as if someone might be eavesdropping by the door.

"For your answer, yes. Your father hid the string inside the sword and gave it to you. He had to sneak into my husband's forge to make the sword so that the string wouldn't be located. He is still mad about that."

"You mean Hephaestus; The Tofu turtle!"

Aphrodite stared blankly, rightly confused.

"Pardon?"

I explained the sudden ambush of a lava turtle at the Starbucks. Annabeth had said that those were usually kept in one of Hephaestus's forges to keep them lit. None of us could think of a reason why that happened, and we'd just concluded that we were unlucky.

Now I had the answer. I was not sure if I liked it or not.

After hearing the story, Aphrodite nodded slowly, saying that would very likely be the doings of Hephaestus.

"He doesn't know why your father had to break in to make a sword." She added. "None of the Olympians knows about this string. Or you'd already be dead."

"Thanks for the confirmation."

Aphrodite handed the sword back. I looked down at the sword. To be honest, now I had a strong urge to throw it outside by the window. Dig a hole in this empty land and bury it deep inside

But I knew that was a fruitless effort. A hole in the ground wouldn't fool them.

"I could take it if you want to."

I paused for a moment, looking at the goddess in confusion.

Why on earth would she go this far to aid on this matter? If this secret gets revealed, anyone connected to it would get severely punished.

"Oh, I have my reasons," Aphrodite said, reading through my mind like an open book. "Many overlook the extension of Aphrodite. I can do a lot more than be pretty, you know."

She glanced down at the string.

Once, I read in a passerby statement that Aphrodite was supposed to be much more than a goddess of love. At one point, it was elucidated that she had control over the fates of every human until Zeus became the primary god in Greek religion, and her attributions diminished down to what we know today.

It made me wonder: How much of that story was true? And if so, how much did this supposed light-hearted goddess know, or had control over?

"Thanks for the offer, but no thanks."

It was a generous offer. However, as much as I feared possessing the string of my life in my hands, I won't discard it behind in the middle of nowhere. Or let anyone else take it for safe keeping. If this is my fate, then I should be the one having it.

Aphrodite gave a small smile as if she expected the answer. She let the blade slide down her hand into mine. I changed it back into a lighter and pocketed it. It felt much heavier than before.

"For now, you don't have to worry about any gods finding out. Your sword is more than enough to hide it without any chance of detection. Keep it a secret from everyone for as long as you can."

"What about—"

"Even to Zoë."

I closed my mouth. I didn't like having additional secrets about her on top of the sigil, not just because I was a terrible liar, but it was also bothering that my thoughts immediately jumped to her and that trail was read easily by the goddess of love.

Aphrodite made a small squeal of excitement.

"Ah, young love."

"Who said anything about love?"

The goddess winked instead of answering.

"Aside from that, my husband is currently very angry at you. And Hephaestus resembles his mother in the worst way possible."

"What do you mean?"

"They both have a hard head. Not thick, but hard. He disapproves of an unworthy hero wielding a weapon that came from his forge. The only way to get his consent is to prove your worth."

I forced down a gulp. If this had anything to do with crafting, I'd better off be dead.

"And how do I do that?"

Aphrodite closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

"There is a Junkyard under his name nearby. He said some intruders had been scavenging around. They are strong enough to dismantle his automaton guards, and yet he had trouble getting any heroes to help out since the location was extremely isolated."

"And I have to get rid of them?"

"With your companion, yes."

"I can't let Zoë take my burden."

The goddess looked out through the window.

"That would depend on the circumstance, wouldn't it?"

Through the myriads of stars, one group of them seemed to be shining rather brightly; the Orion. But as I looked more closely, I noticed something was off. I couldn't put a finger on the exact problem but there was something different about it.

Thunder rumbled from the distance.

"Our time is up," Aphrodite said.

I was about to leave the car when she suddenly grasped at the hem of my sleeve.

"Oh, and David…there might be some controversy surrounding your mother.

But as the goddess of love, I can guarantee you one thing:

Whoever she may turn out to be, your mother does love you."

I stared at her again.

I wanted to ask what she meant. Did she know something about ma? Judging from her phrasing, it sounded like she was different in some way, which was not what I liked to hear.

The fear of confirmation made me swallow my question.

"…Thanks."

Aphrodite gave a final smile, and let my sleeve free.

When I closed the door behind my back, the limousine was nowhere to be seen. I was in the middle of a massive junkyard with mountains and mountains of scraps on either side.

Zoë was stilling on a stool, talking over an Iris message. Before I could call her, she swiped her hand across the mist and turned around.

"Are thee alright?"

"I—"

I tried to come up with an answer, but my voice failed me. I was too shaken up by the constant reveals that happened over a few minutes. Now, anything before it felt like it was a month ago.

Zoë came over with a small frown.

"Did Aphrodite say something bothering?"

"No." I lied.

I could tell Zoë was not fooled. Her eyes narrowed up like a puma aiming for its prey. The entire truth dangled at the tip of my tongue, threatening to spill out at any moment.

Thankfully, Zoë dropped the subject. When I kept my mouth shut, she just sighed, instead opting to look up at the sky with a scowl.

"We should continue as fast as we could. There might be some road bumps nearby, and we have less than 3 days until the winter solstice."

"Oh, about that."

I explained the situation about the creation of my sword—obviously, without the part about my string—and the necessity of hunting down these scavengers.

"You can go along on your own," I suggested. "It's my problem after all."

To my surprise, Zoë shook her head without any pause.

"I'm afraid that's not an option. If I truly believed I could've succeeded on this quest alone, I wouldn't have bothered to consult the Oracle in the first place. And besides,"

The huntress gave a small smile.

"How can a hunter reject hunting?"

I'm again sorry it took another 2 weeks to come back.

I really love when I have to keep redrafting every 500 words or so.

I'm still not sure if this was the best way to portray the scene. I wanted some more talking between David and both gods, but I couldn't also make it too boring or too on the nose. By the way, I hope this isn't either of them.

I am facing a part time job at the moment, so I can't say too much.

I hope you had fun reading, tell me what you thought about it in the comments, or PM.

I'll see you all in the next chapter!

Ta ta~