Chapter 7: Human
Dawn unfurled its gentle smile over Perseus's orchard, where the ambrosial fruit of immortality hung heavy on the boughs. The night's mystical allure had been replaced by the vivid clarity of day, which painted the scenery in warm colors so spirited they seemed to pulse with life. The morning garden was a distinct contrast to the velvety darkness that had enshrouded it hours before; now, it was awash with the crimson kiss of Hemera's chariot, rising anew in the sky.
At the heart of this flourishing paradise sat a soft wooden bench, its surface smooth and curved to match the natural forms that surrounded it. Upon this bench, the figures of Perseus, Gaea, Nyx, Tartarus, Chaos, Ananke, Phanes, Chronos, and Erebus were arrayed, each with a countenance and posture, a congregation of essence and power. They were settled in an easy, informal circle, sharing the apples that promised eternity, each bite releasing the sweet fragrance of divinity unending.
The grass beneath their feet was not merely green; it was an explosion of emerald, jade, and lime, each blade a tiny fountain of nature that danced to the soft breath of the early breeze. The flowers had unfurled their petals to the day, showcasing a spectrum of colors that defied the usual boundaries of nature, each one appearing to be crafted from living gemstones. They swayed and moved as if they had a heartbeat, an undulating carpet of flora that seemed almost sentient in its responsiveness to the presence of the deities.
Birds—doves, cardinals, bluejays, and more—the small creatures that had been summoned into existence by Perseus's will, now took to the skies in a cascade of feathers, their chorus a melodious backdrop to the soft murmurs of the gods as they conversed. Sunlight dappled through the leaves of the orchard trees, creating a mosaic of light and shadow upon the ground, ever-shifting with the sun's ascent. The air itself was a blend of scents, each breath a symphony of aromas that ranged from the tang of citrus from the fruit to the sweet perfume of night-blooming jasmine that lingered into the daylight.
The five-story tall apple tree under which they gathered now seemed even more magnificent in daylight. Its leaves, a lush canopy, shimmered with a luminous shamrock green that caught the sun's rays, casting a faded glow around. The polished black marble of the stepping stones gleamed, reflecting the blue skies and plump streaks of white as if holding a piece of the heavens within their dark surfaces. This was a moment of peace, a rare occasion where the eldest protogenoi, usually so consumed with their own realms and concerns, were united by the simple act of sharing a treat. Here, they sat as if a family, a concept often too human for the gods to entertain, but in this dawning light, with the orchard breathing life around them, the lines between divine and mortal seemed, just for a moment, to blur.
Nyx, her skin as fair as snow, like the illuminance of the moon that she wove each night, squinted against the brilliance of the day. "It is too bright here," she complained with a theatrical hand raised to shield her eyes from the sun's relentless cheer.
"Brother Phanes, would you be so kind as to trade places with me? I have a sudden yearning for the solace of this magnificent tree's shade."
Phanes, his form flowing with the white light of creation, gave Nyx a knowing look, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Ah, Nyx, ever the nocturnal creature," he mused as he rose from his seat, brushing a few stray leaves from his chiton.
He reached over and playfully ruffled Perseus's raven-black hair, causing a small smile to break on the younger god's usually serene face. As they swapped positions, Gaea, her eyes as deep and nurturing as the earth, let out a soft, melodious giggle. "Or perhaps, dear Nyx, it is not the shade you seek but the company of Perseus," she teased, her voice a gentle rumble like the earth's contented purr.
Nyx, gracefully taking her new seat, cast a mock-grievous look at Gaea, clasping her chest as if wounded. "I am affronted that you would suggest such a thing," she declared dramatically, her slender fingers slowly draping over Perseus's larger shoulders.
The Protogenos of the Night bit her lip before leaning behind Perseus to catch Chaos's gaze. Chaos, whose presence was as enigmatic as the void from which all things sprung, sat contemplatively, her hands crossed in her lap as she relished in the unfolding drama.
"Did you hear that, Mother?" Nyx whispered conspiratorially, a smirk playing on her lips. "Sister Gaea implies that my affections are easily swayed by the proximity to our gracious host."
Chaos, rarely given to the playful banter of her kin, merely raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips curving into the faintest of smiles, a silent acknowledgment of the jest. "Mayhap you remember, I am the watcher of all things..."
Her hand gradually raised as it made way to act as a platform to rest her chin. "Your subtle yet not inconspicuous glances towards my prince have not escaped my gaze."
A collective snicker wove through the group as Nyx found herself unexpectedly the center of attention. Her usual poise seemed to waver under the playful scrutiny, her mouth agape, a rare show of vulnerability from the embodiment of night. Perseus, who had sat quietly, enjoying the sweetness of the apple, suddenly leaned closer to Nyx. His head was tilted to the side, catching the side of the goddess's gorgeous features.
As their eyes locked, his voice gave way to a soft murmur meant only for her. "Oh, truly~?" he teased, a lighthearted challenge in his tone that danced on the boundary of quip and sincerity.
Caught between her customary cool aloofness and the sudden warmth rising in her cheeks, Nyx blushed a shade reminiscent of the twilight skies she so lovingly crafted. The rare sight of the night goddess taken by such a reaction drew a collective hush, punctuated only by Perseus's soft chuckle. Before the moment could linger, Chaos, with the swiftness that defied her eternal calm, reached out and flicked Perseus on the back of his neck—a correction as timeless as her existence. "Enough," she intoned, though the stars in her eyes twinkled with undisguised affection.
Perseus recoiled with an exaggerated whine, rubbing the spot where the reprimand had landed. "Mother!" he complained, attempting to muster a look of betrayed indignation but failing to completely hide a grin.
The orchard, alight with the day, seemed to thrum with a deeper magic—a reminder of the delicate balance between the divine and the personal, the cosmic and the intimate, playing out beneath the boughs of Perseus's apple tree. Quickly interjecting with a bantering edge in his voice, Erebus called out, "Simply so you're aware, if Mother hadn't corrected you, I would've gladly taken the liberty." His words, like a ripple of darkness, carried the weight of his domain, yet they were light, laced with the fondness that often accompanied the ridicule of old friends.
Tartarus, with his presence as deep and formidable as the abyss he personified, playfully wrapped an arm around Erebus in a side hug, his laughter resonating like the echoes in an endless cavern. "Oh, please," he boomed with a jovial smirk, "you challenging 'Baby Percy'? Did you not fall before him when he was a mere godling?" His voice, though teasing, rumbled with the affection of camaraderie.
With haste, Perseus, referred to jestingly as 'Baby Percy' once more, raised his voice to catch the attention of Prometheus: Perseus's newest addition to the divine hierarchy. "Prometheus?"
His stature as grand as the trees surrounding him, the being called Prometheus instantly knelt with a reverence that belied his power, his voice a deep rumble of servitude. "What does Your Grace wish of me?"
Perseus's eyes gleamed with a mixture of mischief and authority as he proclaimed in a tone that was both theatrical and firm, "Let it be known that the next Protogenos who dares to refer to me as 'Baby Percy' shall be barred from the succor of this immortal orchard for a thousand years."
His declaration hung in the air, a clear warning wrapped in the garb of jest, yet there was a steel to his words that commanded respect. Tartarus, sensing the subtle shift from banter to decree, quickly released Erebus and took his seat, his mirth suddenly replaced with a sheepish silence that seemed to say, 'Message received.' "Understood, Your Grace," Prometheus affirmed, bowing his head once more before returning to his natural state.
The air shifted as Phanes lent his voice to the conversation, the sunlight glinting off his lustrous form. "I must confess a keen fascination with your companion—Prometheus," he said, his tone reflecting a genuine curiosity. "He bears an aura distinctly unlike the daimones you've crafted, Perseus."
Perseus turned his gaze upon the aforementioned deity, his expression one of both pride and fondness. "Prometheus," he began, "represents an endeavor of mine, an entity I've come to call a 'titan.' His essence is from that of the daimones; he bears a different form of immortality in that a titan is slightly more potent with domains of their own."
He paused, ensuring he had the attention of his divine audience before he continued. "Prometheus is the embodiment of forethought. In creating him, I sought to fashion an advisor whose insights would rival my own—a being whose foresight could guide me through completing the dream I've begun for eons."
Prometheus bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment of Perseus's words. His eyes, deep and fathomless, seemed to hold within them the wisdom of ages yet to come, a structure to his given principle. The other protogenoi listened, intrigued by the concept of the titans. In this new tier of divinity, Perseus had introduced not just a different class of beings but a different flavor of the divine, expanding the rich document of their evolving cosmos.
Gaea's enthusiasm was as vibrant as the lush greenery surrounding them; her voice imbued with excitement as she broached her request. "The notion of titans is truly beautiful, Perseus," she said, the earth beneath them seeming to hum in agreement. "Would you allow me to borrow Prometheus and the daimones?"
Perseus tilted his head, his laughter mingling with the rustling leaves. "Borrow?" he echoed with a playful smirk. "And what exactly does one do when one 'borrows' a deity?"
"Mayhaps Nyx wishes to 'borrow' you for her own mysterious purposes." Although Ananke's face remained obscured by the delicate, soft black silk blindfold that lay across her eyes, it did little to hide the sparkle of mirth that seemed to twinkle in her gaze, a clear indication of the smile that played on her lips.
The Night Goddess's mouth dropped open, unable to retort her younger sister. This rare display of speechlessness from the usually eloquent goddess triggered another wave of laughter among the assembled deities, with Gaea, in particular, finding the situation immensely amusing. Her laughter was so hearty and unrestrained that she was nearly doubled over, almost collapsing to the ground in her entertainment. Gaea sighed as her laughter faded before continuing her earlier thought, "Thalassa's celebration of birth is fast approaching, and I believe she would cherish such a gift. A deity of her own, born from the sea — titan or daemon."
Perseus considered her words, the notion stirring within him a wellspring of admiration for his kin's aspirations. "I think it's a splendid idea," he conceded with an approving nod. "I adore the thought of our kindred crafting new deities, especially those who will appreciate the mortals' fleeting beauty and the preciousness of their lives."
His agreement was like sunlight upon the morning dew, full of life and the promise of new beginnings. "Go ahead, dear sister," Perseus continued. "Let Prometheus and the daimones accompany you. May your collaboration with the sea yield a being as boundless and profound as the oceans your children reign over."
Suddenly, the tranquility of the moment was shattered by Perseus's commanding shout.
"SERAPHIM!"
His voice boomed like thunder, resonating through the air and sending a shiver down the spines of those present. This initial jolt of fear was swiftly overtaken by awe as an astonishing spectacle unfolded above them. From the heavens, more than a dozen angels descended with incredible speed, their descent so swift it seemed to fracture the sound barrier itself. These celestial beings streaked through the sky, their arrival a breathtaking display of power and grace.
The gathering of protogenoi, momentarily distracted from their feast of divine delicacies, watched in silent wonderment as the daimones swiftly assembled behind Perseus. Beside them, Prometheus, the fabled titan, lay prostrate, a symbol of his enduring respect for the divine hierarchy. The daimones, as was their custom, were a vision of angelic majesty. Their armor shimmered like starlight, and their wings, vast and resplendent, unfurled behind them, their whiteness rivaling the brilliance of the sun. Each one kneeled in solemn deference before their king, their heads bowed in a gesture of humility and readiness, awaiting the directives of Perseus with unwavering loyalty and anticipation.
In the midst of the gathered divine assembly, Perseus's gaze shifted, seeking another figure of great importance. "Nike!" he called out, his voice echoing with the authority and respect befitting the spirit of victory.
At his summons, Nike, a figure of formidable presence, stepped forward. With a swift, deliberate motion, she struck her breastplate, a resonant clang echoing through the air. The force of the impact caused her rich, caramel-colored curls to dance around her face. She let out a low grunt of acknowledgment, her expression a blend of fierce determination and unwavering loyalty. Perseus addressed them with clear intent, "You will accompany Gaea and aid in the realization of her vision." His words were not just a command but a declaration of trust in their capabilities and dedication.
The daimones, these celestial warriors, responded to his directive with immediate acceptance. They rose to their full, imposing height, their armor gleaming in the ethereal light. Their wings, now gently folded, still exuded an aura of power and grace. They stood ready, their faces set with purpose, awaiting Gaea's lead. Gaea, touched by the support and reverence shown by Perseus and the divine cohort, expressed her gratitude. "Thank you, Perseus, for your blessing and aid," she said with a nod of respect and appreciation. Her voice carried the weight of her deep connection to the earth and the life it sustains.
As she prepared to embark on her significant quest, Gaea stretched her arms wide, her movements reminiscent of branches reaching toward the sky. A contented sigh escaped her lips, echoing the sound of a gentle breeze through the leaves. Prometheus, the titan of forethought, rose to join her, his presence a testament to the wisdom and experience he would bring to their endeavor. Together, with the daimones in tow, they set off, their departure marked by a sense of unity and the promise of creating something extraordinary.
In the wake of Gaea's departure, a lively discussion unfolded among the remaining deities. Their voices mingled, a chorus of divine perspectives, each remarking on Gaea's unpredictable yet awe-inspiring tendencies. "Her whims are as deep and unfathomable as the oceans she nurtures," mused one deity.
Another added, "Indeed, her impulses are one of the greatest mysteries in the cosmos!"
"Unpredictable, yet always mesmerizing," a third observed.
"Mayhap she shares Perseus's spirited ADHD," joked another, eliciting chuckles from the group.
As the dialogue continued, Perseus, ever alert, sensed a subtle shift in the air behind him. It was Tartarus, the vast abyssal god, attempting to sneak up on him in a playful, albeit audacious, maneuver. But Perseus, renowned for his agility and keen senses, detected Tartarus's approach.
With swift, graceful movements, Perseus spun around and, to the surprise of many, effortlessly seized the giant deity. In a fluid motion, he secured Tartarus in a firm lock, his speed and dexterity making the feat seem almost effortless. The vastness of Tartarus contrasted sharply with Perseus's lithe form, yet it was clear who held the advantage. This display of agility and readiness was met with a round of applause from the other protogenoi. They admired Perseus's vigilance and skill, acknowledging his prowess with their claps and cheers.
The others watched in stunned silence before erupting into applause. Ananke, usually so reserved, smiled and said, "I might have forewarned you, Tartarus, but interfering with the future is against the ancient laws."
Erebus, unable to contain his amusement, clutched his stomach as he laughed heartily. His long black hair rattled like snakes as his fits of hoots criticized Tartarus's attempts. "Perhaps I was unable to best Percy as a godling, but you cannot even best him when his divinity is concealed in his jewels! Without honor as well!"
Tartarus, momentarily disgruntled, soon joined in the laughter and clapped Perseus on the back in a gesture of respect. His frown transformed into a broad grin as he spoke. "Impressive, Percy! Not letting your guard down is one of the lessons I must have bound to your being!"
His comment, half in play, half in admiration, reflected his attempt to salvage some pride from the playful encounter. The playful atmosphere in the grove grew as Perseus, with a twinkle in his eye, added to the banter. "Truly, no being could ever be as loud as Tartarus and not be noticed," he proclaimed, his voice laced with good humor.
This remark sent ripples of laughter through the assembly of deities, their amusement echoing amidst the mythical forests and flowers. Tartarus, joining in the mirth, responded with a mix of jest and mock dismay. "I thought, perhaps, with your energies sealed, you might be weaker, slower," he said, his voice deep and resonant. "But here I am, feeling quite puny in comparison."
Perseus chuckled at Tartarus's words. "Oh, I am quite fragile," he played along, his eyes sparkling with merriment. "So weak that a mere pinch from you might send me into a slumber for centuries. But," he added with a sly grin, "I doubt you could ever catch me to try."
The gathered gods chuckled at this exchange, enjoying the light-hearted camaraderie. Perseus, not missing a beat, continued, "Well, I might still be stronger than Chronos, though." This remark brought another round of hearty laughter from the group.
Walking over to Chronos, Perseus embraced the Protogenos of Time in a friendly hug. Chronos, ever the sport, patted Perseus's arms, which were wrapped around him, in a gesture of affectionate camaraderie. In these moments, the divine assembly shared not just power and wisdom but a sense of unity and joy, rare and precious among beings of such cosmic significance.
Amidst the cheerful ambiance, Phanes signaled to Perseus. Seated next to Chronos, he appeared thoughtful yet brimming with an excitement that seemed to radiate from his very essence. Perseus, noticing Phanes' gesture, excused himself from the group and approached him. The younger protogenos slowly reclined back into his seat as his smile widened at the interaction with his oldest brother. Over the past few epochs, the two had gotten far closer than Perseus ever believed they could.
However, their similarities brought them together momentously, mostly their shared abilities to create and the endless motivation they gave one another to engage in friendly competition. Phanes, with a conspiratorial glint in his eyes, leaned closer to Perseus. "I have completed it, Perseus," he whispered, his voice tinged with a mix of pride and secrecy. "My secret creation, the project I've been toiling over in the depths of the void, is finally ready."
Perseus's eyes widened, reflecting a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. The mention of Phanes' secret endeavor piqued his interest, knowing the immense creative powers that Phanes wielded. A vivid memory, millions of years old, flashed through his mind—the moment when Phanes had first entrusted him with this secret. That moment had laid the foundation of a deep, unique bond between them, a bond that had grown and strengthened over eons.
The significance of this revelation sent a ripple of excitement through Perseus, so profound that his hands trembled slightly. The thought of finally witnessing Phanes's magnificent creation, a work he had been promised to see before any other, filled him with an indescribable sense of anticipation. Their shared excitement was tangible, a vibrant energy that seemed to envelop them. "You must promise to meet me later," Phanes implored, the gravity in his voice reflecting the immense importance of his request.
"I promise, Phanes. I wouldn't miss it for the cosmos," he responded with a bright, eager smile, his voice resonant with sincerity and commitment.
Phanes, his brow furrowed, sought further reassurance. "Do you pledge your word, Perseus?"
"I promise! I promise!" Perseus reiterated, his tone fervent and earnest.
A look of contentment and relief washed over Phanes's face as his eyes softened. "Very good. The trust I have placed in you is paramount; always remember Perseus," he placed his hand gently on the back of Perseus's head, bringing their foreheads together in a gesture of deep connection, "trust is the most powerful matter in this world."
Perseus let out a chuckle as he pushed away from the elder god, "I understand, I understand! You don't have to go giving me lectures like Mother does!"
Phanes' mouth fell open slightly at the remark before pointing a finger at Perseus, "Can a brother not offer some advice to his younger, more foolish, and impulsive pain of a brother?!"
They locked eyes for a brief moment, the weight of centuries and the depth of their bond reflected in their gaze. Then, almost simultaneously, they burst into laughter, their mirth echoing through the grove. Their exchange, rich with history and affection, came to a close as Perseus rejoined the others. The conversation around him flowed effortlessly, yet part of his mind lingered on Phanes's creation. He was left to wonder, with a mix of curiosity and awe, what marvel could have taken nearly nine million years to come to fruition.
As Perseus settled down next to Nyx, the Protogenos of the Night reached out and gently took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. Her gaze, deep and all-encompassing like the night sky, drifted to the rings adorning his fingers. "Perseus," she began, her voice as soft as the whisper of shadows, "why do you continue to seal your energy despite the impending bestowal of your domains?"
Perseus turned to meet her eyes, reflecting a depth of contemplation. "I want to ensure I'm truly ready when the time comes," he replied thoughtfully. "Every moment of preparation counts. It's not just about receiving the domains, but about deserving them."
As they conversed, Chaos promptly approached. With a mother's instinct, she gently pulled Perseus from Nyx's embrace and enveloped him in her own. "My prince, you've grown so much," she said, her voice echoing the very essence of creation. As she held him, a sense of maternal pride and affection emanated from her.
Perseus returned her embrace, a warm smile on his face. While still wrapped in his mother's arms, he turned his head towards Ananke and asked, "Ananke, have you foreseen which domains I will receive?"
The Protogenos of Fate paused for a moment, pressing her hand to the side of her head as if in discomfort. Chronos, concerned, leaned in to inquire about her well-being. "There was a bright white light," she said with a slight grimace.
Ananke, recovering from the brief pang, turned to Perseus with a stern yet affectionate look. "Even if I had seen your future domains, Brother Perseus," she chided, "I would not divulge them. Were you too absorbed in your victory to take notice of my admonishment of Tartarus mere moments ago?"
After Ananke's gentle reprimand, Tartarus attempted to respond, but his mouth, brimming with the fruit of immortality, could only produce incoherent gibberish. The sound was so absurd and unexpected that it caught Perseus off guard, and he couldn't help but let out a hearty chuckle. Amidst the laughter, he nodded in agreement with Ananke. "Indeed, you're right. One should always heed your wisdom," he said with a smile, acknowledging her timeless foresight.
As the laughter subsided, Nyx, ever attuned to the shift of time and light, noticed the changing sky. The sun, in its majestic descent, was beginning to grasp at the horizon, signaling the end of their gathering. "It seems my time here must draw to a close," she announced softly, her voice echoing the onset of twilight.
The rest of the protogenoi concurred, acknowledging that the day was ending. One by one, the deities stood, their forms beginning to shimmer with an otherworldly light. They expressed their gratitude to Perseus for hosting the gathering, their voices blending into a harmonious farewell. "Thank you, Perseus, for this delightful assembly," they said, their words tinged with the warmth of shared camaraderie.
As they departed, each deity transformed into a unique burst of soft, glowing light, illuminating the garden with an ephemeral beauty. Perseus watched this spectacle, a sense of contentment filling him as he witnessed his kin dissolve into the ether, returning to their cosmic duties. Once the orchard gradually emptied, only Chaos and Perseus remained. The mother and son shared a quiet moment, their connection transcending the bounds of time and space. Chaos gazed at Perseus with a depth of affection only a mother could hold.
She reached out to him, and they embraced a tender and powerful exchange between two beings of immense power yet bound by familial love. "My little Percy," Chaos whispered, her voice echoing the very essence of planets, "You are my heart." The simplicity of her words was profound, a reminder of the enduring connection they shared.
Seeing her intention to kiss his forehead, Perseus, ever respectful of his mother, gently lowered himself. This small gesture, an act of humility and love, allowed Chaos to stand on her tiptoes and place a kiss on his forehead. Her lips were warm like a cooling fire; it was a kiss that carried the warmth of creation. With her farewell imparted, Chaos stepped back. Her form, a shimmering tapestry of stars and void, began to glow with a soft light. She gave Perseus a final, loving look before she, too, dissolved into the ethereal light, leaving the garden to join the others in the vastness of the universe.
Perseus watched her departure, a sense of serenity enveloping him. As the last traces of her presence faded, he turned and made his way through the forest, the memories of the day's events and the warmth of his mother's love lingering in his heart.
Once alone, the setting sun cast its golden glow on the path ahead as Perseus slowly made his way out of the orchard, his steps measured and reflective. He wandered through the forest, his eyes capturing the beauty of the sunset. The golden rays of the sun weaved through the trees, painting the foliage in hues of gold and amber, a reminder of the ever-present beauty in the ordinary.
Finally, he found a peaceful spot amidst the trees. Laying down, he relaxed into the embrace of the earth, his gaze turning upwards. As the day gave way to night, he gazed up at the night sky, his eyes tracing the constellations and the endless expanse above. The sky, now a canvas of deepening blues and purples, gradually revealed its nightly treasures. Stars began to twinkle into existence, each one holding memories and songs of their own.
Perseus lay there, his mind adrift among the celestial bodies. The stars, like old friends, whispered tales of eons past and secrets of the universe. In this tranquil moment, under the watchful eyes of the universe, Perseus indulged in his favorite pastime, finding solace and wonder in the endless dance of the night sky. He could not help but begin to close his eyes in the comfort of the peace. It took everything in his being not to be devoured by the treasured sight and tumble into the next day.
And so he laid there, laid still, watching the scenery play out as he listened to the stories that the sprinkles of white told. Happy and fulfilled, he merely bathed in the beauty of his home.
"!"
As Perseus lay under the starlit sky, a shriek that roared across the landscape interrupted his leisure. Without warning, a malevolent white light burst through the darkness, a complete inverse to the gentle luminescence of the stars. This light, alien and hostile, enveloped Perseus's entire being.
An indescribable pain coursed through him, a pain so profound and all-consuming that it defied words. Perseus watched in horror as his physical form began to crumble, turning to ash. His existence flickered and waned, his once solid form becoming translucent, a mere shadow of what it once was. Panic and disbelief gripped him as he realized the unthinkable—he was fading, dying, being erased from existence.
Not the kind where he would simply plunge into a deep sleep; he had already experienced something of the like. This was different, harsher, and evil. This was permanent, a true immortal death.
He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. But, he couldn't. He wanted to beg his mother to save him from the torment. But, he couldn't. At that moment, when the pain of his searing divinity screeched... he wanted to die.
And so he would.
Through the blazing light, Perseus caught a glimpse of Phanes's face, twisted in horror and disbelief. Phanes's expression, one of abject terror, was the last thing Perseus saw before the light overwhelmed his vision, blinding him into darkness. In his final moments of consciousness, Perseus heard Phanes's voice, filled with fear and confusion, cry out, "WHO ARE YOU?! Reveal yourself, you monster!" The words echoed in the void that was rapidly claiming him.
As his consciousness began to slip away, enveloped by the abyss, Perseus's thoughts turned to Phanes. With a sense of deep regret, he silently apologized to his brother. His last thoughts of sorrow for the broken promise and a hope that Phanes would understand. Perseus, once a figure of strength and joy, now faded into the chasm, his existence becoming a mere echo in the vast universe, a tale of light and darkness, of bonds formed and promises unkept, a story lost to the eternal night.
'I apologize, brother. I fear I won't be seeing through our promise.'
AN
Hello! Firstly, I want to apologize for the late update; it's nearly finals week, so I've been focusing on school. Nonetheless, the last chapter of the prologue!
I hope you have all enjoyed the beginning of the story, and I'm looking forward to your reactions to how the plot will play out. I've had a real blast toying with several ideas and setting a few scenes in motion, so I can state with all honesty that I have full intent on completing this work without rushing or delaying chapters.
Another thing I am curious about is your opinions on the art that I added for one of the scenes! If you didn't catch it, there's a picture I used AI to construct of Perseus and the daimones in the Orchard. Should I add one every chapter, or did it ruin the flow? Please let me know!
Thank you all for reading; feel free to comment and share!
- ANAKX
Word Count: 5367