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Chapter Text

Leaning against a tree trunk, Lyra closed her eyes briefly, willing herself to remain focused. She couldn't afford to give up, not today. She crouched low among the dense undergrowth, her bow gripped tightly in one hand, the other resting on the quiver strapped to her back.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves above, casting dappled shadows over the forest floor. It was a place she knew inside out, where she could find her way with her eyes closed. This forest was a sanctuary where she sought solace from everything else in her life. Where everything got too much, this was the place she knew would soothe her and calm her down.

Normally, this was the hour when game was most active. Today, however, the woods seemed unusually quiet. The usual rustling of leaves and the distant calls of birds were absent. Even the tracks she usually followed seemed faint and scattered.

She had been hunting since dawn, driven by the familiar ache in her stomach and the ever-present need to provide for her family.

With a sigh, Lyra moved cautiously forward, her senses attuned to every sound and movement. Her thoughts drifted to her siblings at home—hungry mouths awaiting her return, innocent eyes filled with hope. They relied on her, and she would not return empty-handed if she could help it.

"Artemis, goddess of the hunt," she murmured softly, sending a quiet prayer heavenward. "Grant me your favour this day. Guide my hand and lead me to prey, so that my family may eat."

There was no immediate answer, just the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant call of a bird. Lyra sighed, steeling herself to continue. She had been in this position before—facing the uncertainty of the hunt, relying on nothing else than her skills and a bit of luck to provide for her family.

Hours passed with little success. The forest remained stubbornly silent, as if mocking her efforts. Lyra's frustration grew with each passing moment, her steps slowing as fatigue threatened to overwhelm her.

Soon enough, she found herself at the edge of a small clearing, where a few rays of sunlight managed to penetrate the thick foliage. Closing her eyes for a second, she allowed herself to soak up and enjoy the warmth that the rays brought.

As she lounged under the sun, taking a break during her hunt, Lyra squinted up at the sky and playfully called out towards the sun. The fatigue and frustration made her do something she wouldn't, even in her wildest dreams, imagine doing. She leaned her head back and looked up towards the sun.

"Alright, Apollo, if you're really the god of prophecy and light, then how about a little help here? I could use a sign—or maybe just a deer or two to make this hunt worth my while. I promise I'll make it up to you with a proper offering. Just don't let me go home empty-handed, or I might have to start begging Hermes for a swift escape from this endless search!" she sighed dramatically, leaning back and spreading her arms out in a gesture of surrender. "Or at least send me a sign that I'm not completely hopeless at this. Even a squirrel would do at this point."

She chuckled to herself, shaking her head at her own audacity.

Just as despair began to gnaw at the edges of her resolve, the crunch of footsteps on dry leaves startled her back to attention. Instinctively, she readied an arrow, her heart racing as she scanned the her surroundings carefully.

There it was. A small flicker of movement in the distance. Her heart quickened as she cautiously approached, her breath held in anticipation. Through a gap in the foliage, she caught a glimpse of a small deer grazing peacefully in a sunlit clearing.

A surge of relief and gratitude swept through Lyra as she notched an arrow and drew her bowstring taut.

The world narrowed to the steady thud of her heartbeat and the target before her. With a whispered apology to the animal and a small prayer to whatever god was willing to listen, she released the arrow, watching with practiced eyes as it found its mark.

The deer staggered, then collapsed gracefully to the forest floor. Lyra hurried forward to inspect her catch, her hands trembling slightly as she knelt beside the fallen creature.

She murmured words of thanks to Artemis for guiding her hand and providing for her family once more, as well as Apollo. Even though her prayer was more of a joke, it seemed like it was heard. And she couldn't be more happy and relieved about this.

As she knelt beside the deer, thoughts of her family crowded her mind. Her younger siblings would eat well tonight, and perhaps her parents would acknowledge her efforts, if only for a fleeting moment.

Yet beneath her sense of duty and the satisfaction of a successful hunt, a lingering ache persisted—an ache born of longing for acceptance and recognition beyond the boundaries of her modest existence.

The sun had begun to reach its peak by the time Lyra emerged from the forest. Her muscles ached from the long trek home, the weight of the deer slung over her shoulders not making it any lighter.

However, the sight of their modest cottage nestled among the trees brought a flicker of warmth to her weary heart.

Pushing open the creaking wooden door, Lyra stepped into the dimly lit room. The scent of hearth smoke mingled with the faint aroma of herbs hanging from the ceiling hit her as soon as she crossed the threshold.

Both of her parents remained seated in their spots by the hearth, barely acknowledging her presence.

Her mother, poking at the burning coals, glanced up briefly as Lyra entered, her expression unreadable behind a mask of weary resignation. There was no smile of greeting, no words of acknowledgment for her daughter's return or praise for her successful hunt.

Instead, she turned her attention back to the meagre meal she was preparing, as if Lyra's arrival was nothing more than a fleeting disturbance in her daily routine.

Her father, a stern man with calloused hands and a gaze as sharp as flint, looked up from sharpening his tools as she approached. His eyes briefly flickered with approval as they settled on the deer slung over her shoulder, before this spark disappeared once his gaze fell back on his daughter and he nodded curtly.

"You caught one," he grunted, his voice devoid of warmth. "Good."

Lyra's heart sank, though she had expected nothing more. She had long grown accustomed to her parents' indifference, their praise reserved only for her siblings while she remained an afterthought, and her being relegated to the role of provider, her worth measured solely by her ability to bring food to the table.

Still, she had hoped, perhaps naively, for a moment of connection—a glimmer of pride in their eyes, or even a word of thanks. Anything. But she never received any of that. For her parents she was simply a means to an end.

It stung, but she pushed the hurt aside, focusing on the positive—her younger siblings, a ragtag group of four, that rushed towards her with excited chatter and wide smiles. They crowded around her, their eager hands reaching out to touch the deer with a mixture of curiosity and admiration.

"Lyra's back! Lyra's back!" exclaimed Alexander, a cherubic boy with tousled hair.

"We missed you!" cried his twin sister, Callista, clutching at Lyra's tunic with sticky fingers.

The other two echoed their siblings' excitement, their voices a chorus of gratitude and wonder that momentarily drowned out the distant hum of disappointment echoing in Lyra's heart. She smiled tiredly down at them, ruffling their hair and offering soft words of reassurance.

"Yes, little ones," she murmured, her voice tinged with both affection and weariness. "Dinner will be plentiful tonight."

It wasn't her biggest catch, but definitely high on the list. It was a rare treat for her to bring home a deer. Usually, she only managed to find few hares or birds, barely enough for her family to eat, never mind her. She mostly got scraps of what was left when they all got their own portions.

With a quiet sigh, Lyra relinquished the deer to her father's capable hands, watching silently as he began the process of cleaning and preparing the animal. Her mother's distant gaze never left the bubbling pot over the fire, her expression unreadable as she continued to move about the cramped space.

Lyra's fatigue melted away as she dropped to her knees to embrace her siblings as they swarmed her, now that her hands were free, her laughter mingling with theirs.

She tousled their hair affectionately before gently prying them off to help with preparing the stew, when her father waved her over. Her siblings hovered nearby, peppering her with questions about the hunt and marvelling at the size of the animal.

She set to work with practiced efficiency, skinning and butchering the pieces handed to her by her father with steady hands. Her siblings watched with wide-eyed fascination, occasionally offering clumsy help or fetching tools when needed.

Their genuine excitement and gratitude brought her comfort and warmth she missed, reminding her of why she endured her parents' neglect—to provide for those who truly appreciated her efforts.

She remembered to set aside a small amount of meat, remembering about the promise she made a few days ago to her best friend. He and his family needed it just as much, if not more.

By the time the last cut of meat was portioned out and cooking over the fire, the cottage was filled with warmth and the comforting aroma of roasted venison.

Lyra sat back on her heels, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Her siblings clamoured around her, chattering animatedly about the meal to come and peppering her with more questions.

As they ate together, sharing stories and laughter around the rough-hewn table, Lyra found solace in their company. Their genuine affection and unwavering support were her anchor in a world where she often felt adrift.

She savoured the fleeting moments of happiness, knowing that tomorrow would bring new challenges and the familiar weight of responsibility.

In that small, humble cottage, surrounded by the love of her siblings and the flickering glow of the hearth, Lyra found a fleeting sense of belonging—a reminder that even in the face of adversity, she was not alone, even if it brought her only little comfort.

But as the day went on, even a few hours later, she couldn't shake the feeling that this morning's hunt held more significance than usual.

Little did she know, her prayers had not gone unheard, and the events of this and the following days would set in motion a series of events that would change her life forever.

Chapter Text

Just as the sun went down, letting the moon shine its soft silver glow over the bustling streets of the polis, Lyra navigated her way through the market square, a small bundle of wrapped meat slung over her shoulder.

Her footsteps were purposeful, yet cautious, as she approached the stalls and traders hawking their wares.

One of Lyra's first attempts was met with thinly veiled reluctance from an elderly butcher whose sceptical gaze lingered on her for a moment too long. She slowly approached him and he crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at her with a scowl.

"What is that supposed to be?" he asked, eyeing the meat with a critical gaze.

"Fresh venison," Lyra replied, doing her best to sound confident, while laying the bundle on the wooden counter. "Straight from the hunt this morning."

She tried to hide the way her heart hammered in her chest and the way her breaths were faster than normal, that she was trmbling slightly. She hated interacting with these people, their judgemental glares and snide remarks thrown her way each time she went to the polis.

Each time she met with these people, she was unsure if she would walk away by the end of it. There were already more situations than there should be, when she had to fight her way out.

But the old butcher paid her no attention, as he poked at the meat with a meaty finger.

"Hunters are a dime a dozen," he grumbled, his voice carrying an edge of dismissal that stung despite being used to such reactions. "Don't need any more today, girl."

She moved on without protest, knowing that lingering would only invite further rejection.

The next vendor, a wiry merchant with an ever-present frown, eyed her offering with open suspicion and slight distaste. She barely approached him and opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off before she could even state her price.

"Got no use for it," he declared brusquely, shooing her away with a wave of his hand.

Still, Lyra pressed on, her detrmination not wavering despite encountering similar responses—scepticism, reluctance, and offers far below what she knew her meat was worth.

From the moment her parents told her to go sell the rest of the meat, she knew that the results would be poor, but her family needed money and none of her parents were willing to go themselves.

She had to bite back the remark, they knew they would get almost twice as much, for the same, if not even smaller, piece of meat she was trying to sell, but they still made her go. She knew where that would probably lead, but for now, she didn't want to focus on that. Instead, she focused on finding someone willing to at least hear her out.

Finally, at the edge of the bustling market square, she approached a modest stall manned by an elderly woman with kind eyes and weathered hands.

Lyra approached the stall, her heart pounding slightly with anticipation.

"I have venison," she began, her voice tinged with a hint of weariness but still holding firm.

The old woman regarded her with a shrewd gaze, inspecting the meat with a practiced eye. For a moment, she was silent, and Lyra waited with batted breath, half-expecting to be turned away again.

"Venison, eh? I'll give you this much," the old woman said finally, holding up a handful of coins that glinted in the soft glow cast by nearby torches. "It's all I can offer."

Lyra hesitated, knowing it was less than half of what she had hoped to earn, as well as what her parents expected her to bring home. However, it was still more than the dismissive refusals she had encountered thus far.

After a moment's consideration, she nodded, accepting the coins with a quiet sense of resignation.

The woman nodded, her expression unyielding as she counted out the coins into Lyra's outstretched palm.

"Thank you," the younger woman murmured, tucking the coins into her pouch.

As she turned to leave, the merchant called after her.

"Wait, girl," she said softly.

Lyra paused, looking back at the woman expectantly.

"You remind me of someone," the old woman continued, her voice softened with a hint of nostalgia. "Someone who I used to be, years ago, before my life turned into a series of regrets and missed chances. Back then, I was A quiet girl with fire in her eyes, just like you... before the world showed me how cruel it could really be."

The woman smiled wryly, she chuckled bitterly. Then, she looked back at Lyra, her eyes pleading.

"Don't let yourself end up like me. Don't let anyone else decide your worth or make decisions for you. You have to hold onto that fire, no matter how hard the world tries to smother it. Because once that fire goes out... it's almost impossible to reignite."

"I won't," Lyra smiled faintly, touched by the unexpected kindness and guidance.

With a sigh, she tucked the coins safely away and giving the woman one last nod, she went her own way.

Her gaze swept the market square, searching for any sign of Heron and his mother among the bustling crowd. This time, once a week, where there were the most traders and offers, Electra came down to town to restock their supplies. Heron came down there daily, trying to sell coal and get at least a few coins for which his mother could buy them food.

Her eyes scanned the crowd until she spotted a familiar woman haggling over a selection of root vegetables at a nearby stand.

Hurrying over, Lyra's warm smile faltered only slightly at the sight of the woman's worn clothes and weary expression, looking worse than the last time they saw each other. She knew that her best friend most likely wasn't any better.

Approaching quietly, Lyra waited until the woman concluded her negotiation before stepping forward with a soft greeting.

"Electra," she called out gently, catching the older woman's attention.

The woman turned, her tired face lighting up with surprise and happiness at the sight of Lyra. The small, motherly smile that showed up on her face warmed Lyra's heart.

"Lyra, my dear," Electra replied warmly. "It's good to see you. How have you been?"

Lyra offered a small smile, her chest aching slightly at Electra's genuine concern. The woman was exactly like she wished her own mother would be like. She had this special warmth about her, that pulled Lyra in, making her see the woman as the mother-figure. That and the fact that this woman practically raised her, ever since she was a six-year-old.

"I've been managing," she replied with a small shrug, though her eyes betrayed the weariness she felt.

Just as she reached into her pack to retrieve the bundle of venison, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a familiar figure approaching. She stopped her movement, instead turning towards the approaching person.

Both women turned towards the young man. He was dirty and his clothes looked ready to fall apart, but his eyes lit up when he noticed his best and only friend standing near his mother.

"How did it go?" Electra asked, and the light inside Heron's eyes dimmed slightly as he showed what he held in his fist.

Two silver drachmas, which would be barely enough to pay for the vegetables Electra had just selected, not to mention those she already had paid for earlier with the money that he earned over the last week. Lyra winced, but hid it quickly, not wanting to discourage him further.

"What about the rest of it?" Heron's mother frowned.

"I was lucky to get that," he muttered, slowly raising his gaze to meet her eyes, as if he was afraid that he would see disappointment in them.

But being the loving mother she was, Electra's eyes softened as she put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Still, she wasn't able to hold back the way her lips drew into a thin line, in which Lyra could only assume was guilt at the situation she put her son in by having him out of wedlock.

"Don't worry. We'll figure something out," she told him.

Lyra reached into her pack and withdrew a small package wrapped in cloth, carefully unwrapping it to reveal a generous portion of venison.

"Here," she said softly, extending the package towards Electra. "I brought this for you both. Fresh from this morning's hunt."

Electra's eyes widened in surprise, her face softening with gratitude as she accepted the gift.

"Lyra, you didn't have to," she murmured.

The younger woman shook her head gently. She gave Electra a small, warm smile and squeezed her arm.

"I wanted to," she insisted, her gaze flickering to Heron, who stood beside his mother. "For you both."

The man met her eyes, his expression softening as he reached out to touch her arm in silent thanks. She gave him a small smile in return, happy to see at least some of the weariness and sadness being replaced by relief and real happiness.

"Thank you, Lyra," he murmured earnestly. "This means more than you know."

Suddenly, their quiet moment was interrupted by the sound of people clamouring and running away from something. Everyone gasped, as a soft glow approached from outside of the polis.

"What's going on?" Heron asked, as he moved towards the source of the glow.

Electra tried to reach out for him to stop him, but he was too fast and walked out of her reaching zone before she could. Lyra fought with herself for a second, before she followed after him, her curiosity winning.

The man grabbed a torch on his way and when they got to the far side of the polis, he used it to light up the darkness. Just as he leaned forward, Lyra noticed a flash of something metal out of the corner of her eye, accompanied by the sound of frantic hooves.

Before Heron could react, Lyra's quick reflexes kicked in. With a firm grip on his arm, she pulled him back just in time, narrowly avoiding a collision with a charging horse. The animal skidded to a stop, its rider struggling to rein it in the middle of the group of startled onlookers.

A blonde woman, dressed in a fine cloak and riding attire that marked her as someone of means, sat atop the skittish horse. A group of men stopped behind her, all of them in similar, but poorer armours.

However, what caught Lyra's attention was the second, black-haired woman, sitting on a black horse among the man. She stopped just beside the blonde.

Unlike the others, she wore leather armour that looked tough and functional, but far less flashy than the golden ones her companions wore.

In fact, it was so unusual to see someone in leather armour around these parts that it made Lyra stare. Whoever this woman was, she carried herself with a quiet but undeniable authority, despite the blonde clearly being a leader of the group.

The black-haired woman didn't speak, but her cold, piercing gaze scanned the crowd, making Lyra shrink back. There was something about her—something dangerous. Lyra couldn't shake the feeling that this woman, though not the leader, was someone important. Someone to be careful of.

Lyra didn't have much time to think about it, as the blonde leader looked down on her and Heron them, before addressing the small crowd that gathered around.

"You need not fear me. I am Grand Archon Alexia," she introduced herself. "I'm in pursuit of a demon. Have you seen anything pass?"

"Demon?" Heron frowned. "No."

"Then get inside. These monsters know no mercy," the black-haired woman cut in, her tone sharp and cold. "Hyah!"

Alexia rolled her eyes, but didn't stop her. Instead, she steered her horse after her companion and urged it to follow.

The men also followed her, running and galloping past them. Everyone that came out of the polis watched them go, before whispers begam to quickly spread among the folk. Then, they all started going back to their previous spots.

Heron and Lyra lingered longer than most, but just as they were about to go back into the polis, they heard rattles coming from a distance. The woman tensed, as her mind went to the information Grand Archon Alexia just shared – a bloodthirsty demon was nearby.

Still, someone had to make sure what it was. Heron was the first to move, one of the man that also lingered behind following him. As the two of them approached a canal, the older man drew his knife.

But as it turned out, they weren't in any danger. The source of the noise was an old man, who fell into the hole and injured his leg.

"Old fool, what are you doing?" the man who followed Heron snapped.

"Breaking my leg. What's it look like?" Elias groaned.

"You've drunk more than you've bled, you old goat," the man declared with disgust, before walking away.

Meanwhile, Heron passed the torch to Lyra, who came up behind them, before jumping into the canal and helped the old man up.

"One of these days, you're gonna get yourself killed, Elias," he sighed, leading a man towards a place, where they could sit down.

Soon enough, they heard a horn in a distance, signalising for everyone the end of the day and that they should get back to their homes. Just then, they found a place where Electra could take a look at Elias' leg. It didn't look good.

"Go ahead without me," the old man told them, as he was sat down.

"You're old, not dead," Heron remarked.

"We have to clean this," Electra declared, when she got a look at the man's injury, then turned to her son. "Heron?"

He nodded and ran off to get some water. Lyra looked after him, shifting her weight uneasily. The sense of time slipping away tugged at her, reminding her of the responsibilities, still waiting back home.

"I should probably head back," she said. "My family is likely wondering what's taking me so long."

Elias gave her a knowing look, his eyes filled with unspoken understanding as if he knew what she was trying to hide from them. Lyra felt a pang of uncertainty under his gaze but quickly dismissed it.

While everyone mostly dismissed her, no one pried in what was going on at her home. No one knew about what was going on behind closed doors. In their eyes, her household was just like any other. And she didn't know whether she felt relieved about it, being left alone and not having anyone worry about her, or if she wished someone knew and was able to help her.

"Of course, dear," Electra gave her a soft smile. "You've done more than enough for us today. Thank you again for the meat."

"It's nothing, really," the younger woman replied, shaking her head. "I'm just glad I could help. Take care, both of you."

She barely made a step away, before she rememebered something. Something she's been meaning to ask for the last few days.

"Oh, and before I forget again, can you also ask Heron if he has some free time tomorrow? My siblings were asking when he would visit again."

"Of course," Electra nodded with a small smile.

"Safe travels, Lyra," Elias called after her.

With a final wave and smile, she made her way through the quiet streets of the polis, her heart growing heavier with each step as the restlessness and fear slowly started to set in. She was expected to be back a long time ago. Finding a person willing to buy her meat already took her much longer than it should have.

As she approached her family's hosue, the familiar sense of dread fully settled over her. Pushing open the door, she found her parents waiting, their expressions a mix of anger and impatience. Even from the distance, she could feel the stench of alcohol coming from her father.

Her eyes quickly scanned the room. Thankfully, it seemed that her siblings had already gone to bed, before she came back. This meant they wouldn't have to see what was about to go down. Taking a quiet deep breath, she brought her eyes back to her parents, just as her father started to speak.

"What took you so long?" he barked, his voice harsh and unforgiving, his eyes narrowed.

"No one was willing to take the meat," she said weakly. "Just before I came back, I managed to sell it to an older woman."

As she reached into a pouch, where she had stashed the money from the woman, she noticed her hand was shaking. Cursing herself quickly, she did her best to steady it as she handed the pouch to her father.

"And what is this?" he scowled as he looked at few small coins in his hand. "This is all you managed to get?"

Lyra swallowed hard, the weight of their disappointment pressing down on her.

"It's all what I could get," she replied quietly, her voice barely audible. "As I said, no one was willing to take the meat."

Her father's eyes flashed with anger, and her mother's scowl deepened.

"Useless, just like always," the woman muttered, turning away. "Taking too long for too little."

Before Lyra could defend herself, her father grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards the doors. The door slammed shut behind them, but he didn't stop there. Instead, he dragged her away, towards the edge of their small property, where it was sure no one would see what was going on, not even the kids if they woke up.

The young woman braced herself, knowing what was coming.

The sting of the punishment that followed was familiar, but no less painful. Each blow was a harsh reminder of her perceived failures and the expectations she could never seem to meet.

She bore it silently, her mind retreating to the memory of the marketplace, the warmth of Electra's gratitude, and Heron's concerned eyes. It was a small comfort, but in that moment, it was enough to remind her that she was not entirely alone.

When it was over, Lyra was left alone, just laying on the cold ground, looking up at the starry sky. Her father didn't say anything to her as he walked back towards the house, grumbling to himself quietly about how useless was his 'disappointed of a daughter'.

She stayed there for a moment, before dragging herself to her feet. Slowly, she dragged herself back to the house. Her parents were gone from the main room, presumably into their own room, which left her to finish everything up before she could finally rest.

By the time she put and cleaner everything, the pain was much more bearable, reduced only to a dull pullsing. The physical pain mingling with the emotional ache that never truly went away.

She laid on a few rags she collected to make herself a place to sleep, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting back to the advice from the woman at the marketplace and the kindness Heron, Electra and Elias showed her. To her siblings' happiness when they greeted her each time she came back home.

Despite the harshness of her reality, those moments of genuine connection gave her a glimmer of hope. They reminded her that somewhere beyond the confines of her family's disdain, there were people who saw her worth and valued her for who she was, who cared for her, even if not all of them were bound by blood.

The thin blanket barely shielded Lyra from the cold, or cushioned her from the hard ground as she lay in the small corner of the house, where she was forced to sleep now that her bed had been given to her younger siblings.

But she didn't mind. At least they would never have to go through what she did. They would never know the pain of being rejected by their parents and having no one to guide them, to protect and cherish them.

She'll make sure of it.

The discomfort and lingering pain from her punishment kept her awake, her mind restless and her body aching.

Unable to bear it any longer, Lyra quietly rose and slipped outside, careful not to wake anyone. The cool night air his her as soon as she opened the doors, and she took a deep breath, feeling a small measure of peace as she looked up at the star-strewn sky.

She walked a short distance from the house, her bare feet silent on the grass, and settled down on a small rise that offered a clear view of the night sky. The stars shimmered like distant diamonds, their cold light casting a gentle glow over the landscape.

Lyra wrapped her arms around her knees, seeking comfort in the quiet and calm of the night.

Her peace was interrupted by a soft rustling sound at the edge of the woods. She turned, her heart quickening as she spotted a figure emerging from the shadows.

Her breath caught in her throat as she realized it was a fox, its fur gleaming with an ethereal golden sheen, almost as if flame danced at the ends of its fur. But as soon as she noticed that, it seemed to disappear.

Lyra's initial nervousness kept her alert, but she knew she had little to fear from such a small creature. She encountered worse and more vicious animals during her hunts. She knew that if it came down to it, she could defend herself.

The fox did not approach with any signs of aggression. Instead, it moved with a quiet grace, its gaze fixed on her with an intensity that seemed almost... intelligent. It was almost as if it could sense her pain and weariness.

The animal padded closer, each step deliberate. Lyra's heart pounded in her chest, but she forced herself to stay still, watching the fox's every move.

When it was close enough, the animal sat down beside her, its golden eyes reflecting the starlight. Lyra's nervousness began to ebb, replaced by a cautious curiosity.

The fox lowered its head and sniffed her gently, its warm breath brushing against her skin. She trembled slightly, but the animal's presence was oddly comforting.

Lyra remained still, her eyes locked on the fox as it studied her with an almost gentle curiosity.

After a moment, the fox began to lick the wounds visible on her arms, its tongue surprisingly gentle. Lyra flinched at first, but then she felt a warmth spread through her body, and the pain that had plagued her for hours began to fade, replaced by a soothing, almost magical sensation.

Her muscles relaxed, and the tension that had gripped her body eased.

The fox continued to lick her wounds, its actions careful and deliberate. Lyra found herself relaxing further, the fear melting away.

She slowly reached out a hand, her fingers trembling, and brushed them against the fox's soft fur. The animal didn't flinch or pull away; instead, it leaned into her touch, its eyes half-closed in contentment.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the stillness of the night.

The fox looked up at her, its golden eyes meeting hers with an understanding that seemed far beyond that of any ordinary animal. It laid its head on her leg, its body relaxing as it rested beside her.

With a hesitant but growing sense of trust, Lyra continued to pet the fox, her fingers moving gently through its fur.

They sat together in comfortable silence, the stars above them and the quiet sounds of the night surrounding them. For the first time in a long while, Lyra felt a sense of peace and belonging.

She continued to stroke the fox's fur, her fingers moving rhythmically through its soft, warm coat. She took a deep breath and began to speak, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You know, when I was little, I used to believe the stars were tiny holes in the sky, letting the light of some great fire shine through," she said, looking up at the stars. "I used to come out here with Heron when we were kids. We'd lie on the grass and make up stories about the constellations."

She let a small smile bloom on her lips as she looked back up on the stars.

"Sometimes Elias or my grandmother would join us and tell us the actual stories about gods and heroes and monsters. I always liked the story of Orion the best. He was a great hunter... I guess it's part of the reason why I started hunting."

The fox's ears twitched as it listened, its golden eyes half-closed in contentment, and it nuzzled her hand gently, encouraging her to continue.

"Anyways, me and Heron loved to make up stories about whatever hero, god or monster we learned. For example, he'd say that he was a great warrior, and I'd pretend to be Artemis, his protector."

The fox's ears twitched, and Lyra smiled, glancing at it and nodding slightly.

"It's silly, I know. But those were the times when I felt free, like the world wasn't so heavy. Heron and I... we understand each other, both of us born out of wedlock and treated like outcasts. I mean, technically I had it better than him, as my parents got married later on, while we still have no idea who his father is, but it didn't seem to change much. But still, we made the best of it."

She paused, her hand stilling for a moment on the fox's back.

"I wonder what it's like to be a star," she mused suddenly, her thoughts drifting. "Do you think they get lonely up there?"

She sighed, her fingers threading through the animal's fur.

"Sometimes I feel like one of those stars, you know? Distant and alone, even when I'm surrounded by people. Today was rough. I try so hard to provide for my family, but it's never enough. My siblings—they don't understand. They're too young. And my parents... well, they don't care. To them, I'm just a means to an end."

The fox shifted slightly, its golden eyes opening to gaze at her with an almost human understanding. She paused, her hand stilling for a moment as she lost herself in the memories.

"I wish things were simpler, like they were back then when I was little, when my parents could see me for more than just... what I bring home. I mean, I think it's always been like it is now, but when I was younger, it was easier to ignore, when I was less aware of this."

The fox nuzzled her leg gently, as if offering silent support. Lyra smiled faintly, her heart warming at the gesture.

"But Heron and his mother, they're different. They understand what it's like to be an outcast, to be judged for things beyond your control. I wish I could do more for them," she told the fox, her voice soft and vulnerable.

Lyra took another deep breath, her hand resuming its gentle stroking of the animal's fur, feeling the weight of her words lifting as she spoke.

"Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to be free from all of this. To just... run through the woods and not look back. To be like you, I guess. Wild and untamed."

She chuckled softly, the sound bittersweet in the quiet night.

"But then I think about Heron, Electra, Elias... They need me. Just like my siblings do. I can't abandon them, no matter how hard things get."

She paused, a soft smile touching her lips as she continued to pet its fur.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. You're just a fox, right? But it feels good to talk. To pretend that someone out there is listening and cares."

The fox nuzzled her hand gently, and Lyra's heart swelled with a mix of gratitude and sorrow.

"Thank you for listening," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know why you're here or how you found me, but I'm glad you did. It's nice to have someone to talk to, even if you can't talk back."

Then, she spotted a birds nest on the branch high above them. From it, a small bird peaked down on them, before quickly hiding again. She smiled a little.

"I found a little bird with a broken wing last week," she said, her voice taking on a lighter tone as she changed the topic. "I nursed it back to health, until it was strong enough to fly again. It felt good, you know? To help something, to make a difference, even if it was just a small one."

The animal's golden eyes seemed to shimmer in response, and Lyra felt a sense of peace settle over her. She continued to talk, sharing stories of her hunts, her dreams, and the small joys she found in her everyday life.

As the fox's steady breathing lulled her into a state of calm, Lyra closed her eyes and leaned back, her hand resting on the its head.

She didn't know why this creature had come to her or how it had the power to heal, but in that moment, she accepted its presence with a grateful heart.

Chapter Text

The next day, Lyra decided to go to the polis again. She saw many lights there the night before, and she knew something happened after she left. She wanted to know what it was.

As she got there, she saw a crowd of people gathered around a platform, where public punishments were usually carried out. There, on top of it, she saw a few men in armours. They stood in a small circle, in a way that reminded Lyra of guards.

The black-haired woman that caught her attention the night before, stood in the middle. She held a burning torch and had a eyed something lying by her feet with distaste.

On the ground, there was a lifeless body, seemingly human's, but under closer inspection, Lyra noticed differences – its skin was blueish-grey with glowing red vein-like lines. Its hair was pure white, unlike anything she's seen before.

And when the woman torched it, it literally melted, first the skin, then everything beneath, including the bones.

The woman shuddered, as took a step back, despite being separated from the platform by a large crowd. People around her gasped as they also watched it happen. Some of them muttered prayers or curses under their breath.

On the side, she noticed Heron watching with his arms crossed. Beside him, there stood the blonde they saw yesterday, Alexia, if Lyra remembered correctly. They were approached by the black-haired woman, and after exchanging a few words, she walked away again, with a scowl on her face.

She stopped by the crates nearby, unhooking a blade ring from her belt and sharpening it. She had a second, matching one still attached to her belt. But even then, while mindlessly sharpening her weapon, her eyes didn't stray from the pair talking nearby.

But she seemed to feel someone watching her, as her eyes briefly flickered around, before settling on Lyra. Her eyes narrowed and Lyra was the first to tear her eyes away, intimidated. She barely held back a shudder.

There was something unsettling in the woman's gaze—an intensity that was both cold and predatory, like she was sizing her up, deciding if she was a threat or prey. It wasn't just intimidation—it was a quiet promise of violence that made Lyra's heart skip a beat, forcing her to look away.

Instead, she focused back on the talking pair. She decided to wait until they were done, before approaching.

She didn't have to wait long, as soon after she spotted them, Heron ended the conversation with a small, quick bow, before walking away. Lyra quickly hurried after him, but it took her a second, before she managed to finally get through the crowd around her.

She followed her friend at a distance, weaving through the labyrinthine alleys until they reached the outskirts of the polis. She saw him turn down a familiar path towards his house, and she quickened her pace to catch up.

"Heron," she called out softly, not wanting to startle him.

He stopped and turned, his expression softening as he saw her.

"Lyra. What brings you here?"

"I saw you in the marketplace," she replied, falling into step beside him. "I wanted to talk to you. That woman you were speaking with, it was Alexia, right?"

"Yeah, the Grand Archon we saw yesterday," Heron's smile faded slightly as he sighed. "And as it turned out, this other woman she travels with, that's her second-in-command. Ismene. Not so pleasant."

He winced as if the mere thought about talking with the latter caused him pain. Lyra held back a smile as she noticed.

"And what was that about?"

"She offered me a place in her ranks. Said I could fight alongside them and protect people, like those from out polis. But I can't bring myself to do it, Lyra," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Why? It sounds like a good opportunity," Lyra frowned.

"I can't fight for people who have forsaken my mother and me. And I can't leave you behind, either. We've faced too much together to abandon each other now."

Lyra nodded, understanding his reasoning even as she felt a pang of guilt for being one of the reasons he stayed. This was a good opportunity to get away from this polis and from all the abuse... but at the same time, he had valid reasons to stay. If she was in his place, she'd probably stay too.

They continued walking in silence for a few moments until Lyra broke it.

"It's not just that, is it?" she asked quietly. "It's her, isn't it? This... Ismene."

Heron tensed slightly at the name, his expression souring slightly.

"I don't even know her. We've exchanged barely a few words. But there's just... something about her," he shook his head, clearly frustrated. "It's like everything she says or does rubs me the wrong way."

"Really?" Lyra tilted her head. "What did she do?"

"It's not even that she did anything. It's more how she acts," he replied, his voice picking up. "Alexia gave me the offer, and before I could even respond, Ismene steps in, cold as ice, telling me what I should and shouldn't do like she knows me."

His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he thought about it. He was so used to people simply ignoring him, or ordering him around, but the way Ismene spoke to him... that just simply didn't sit right with him.

"It's like she's got this air about her—like she's better than everyone else," he continued. "She barely looks at people, and when she does, it's like we're nothing more than obstacles in her path."

Lyra could see the annoyance written all over Heron's face as he continued.

"And the way she looked at me, Lyra... like I was some naive, annoying kid. A naïve fool. It's like she's already judged me, decided I'm not worth her time," he let out another frustrated sigh. "I don't know, maybe it's just me, but there's something about her that makes me want to do the exact opposite of whatever she says."

"You done?" Lyra raised a brow and smirked slightly, finding Heron's irritated rant a bit amusing. "She really got under your skin, huh?"

Heron groaned.

"You have no idea. And the worst part is, I can't stop thinking about her. Not in a good way, but like... she's a problem I can't ignore. She's got this... presence, and it drives me mad."

"Well, maybe you'll figure her out in time," the woman shrugged. "If she's Alexia's second-in-command, she's got to be skilled, right?"

"Yeah, Alexia says that Ismene's one of the most skilled warriors she's ever seen. She trusts her completely—relies on her, even. But skilled or not, there's something about her that just sets me off," Heron muttered. "But, for some reason, I can't stop thinking about why."

"Sounds like you've been thinking about her more than you'd like to admit," Lyra teased lightly, smirking when she saw the way Heron stiffened.

"It's not like that," he protested quickly. "I just—there's something about her that gets under my skin. And I don't even know her. But I do know that I don't trust her. Every time I think about joining them, I think of her and how much I'd hate taking orders from someone like that."

"Or maybe, it's because she reminds you a little of yourself," Lyra said with a knowing grin.

But it faded just as soon. Her mind went back to what happened back in the polis.

"Okay, moving on... I saw the burning of the demon's body. It was... It wasn't natural. The way it burned down to nothing, not even bones were left behind," she shivered at the thought.

"I've never seen anything like it," the man agreed, before glancing at her, sensing there was more on her mind. "But now it's my turn to ask. That's not the only thing troubling you, is it? There's something else."

Lyra hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Something strange that happened to me, last night."

Heron's curiosity was piqued.

"What is it?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I went outside to watch the stars, like we used to do when we were younger. I saw a golden-haired fox at the edge of the woods. It had glowing golden eyes. No, scratch that, its whole body seemed like it was glowing. At something tells me it wasn't just a normal fox. I think it was something more. Maybe one of the... one of the gods."

"Why do you think that?" the man raised an eyebrow.

"That's a very good question. What makes you think it was a god, Lyra?" the sudden voice, that made them jump, asked, calm but probing.

It was Elias, moving surprisingly quietly despite his broken leg and noticeable limp. None of them noticed the moment he approached, much less got close enough to hear them. Even Lyra, who usually prided herself for her sharp senses as a huntress, had no clue about his approach.

"Elias!" Heron exclaimed, his heart skipping a beat. "We didn't hear you coming."

"Old habits die hard," the old man gave a wry smile, leaning heavily on his makeshift crutch. "Now, Lyra, tell me why you think this fox was a god."

"The fox... It healed me. It licked my wounds and they healed completely. It was like it knew where I was hurting and made it go away."

"Healed your wounds? What wounds? I didn't see any scratches yesterday when we met," Heron's eyes narrowed, as a worried look flashed through them.

He scanned his friend up and down, as if he was trying to spot the wounds she was talking about, even though she just said that the fox healed them.

Lyra forced a smile and hoped it looked genuine enough to convince both men. She felt bad for what she was about to say, but she didn't need them to worry about her. They had more important things to deal with than her problems.

"I got scratched on a hunt. It was hidden under my cloak, so you wouldn't have noticed. Besides, I didn't want to worry you," she lied smoothly, years of practice coming in handy. "But as I said, the fox already healed them. Not even a scar left. See?"

To prove her words, she showed them her arm, the one she said was scratched. And well, a wound was there the night before, just not from the hunt. But it didn't matter where it came from, as there was no trace of it left now.

"And you believe this fox was a god?" Elias studied her intently, his gaze piercing.

"What else could it be, Elias," Lyra nodded slowly. "The way it looked at me, the way it stayed and listened... it was as if it understood everything I was going through. There was something... divine about it."

Elias seemed to ponder her words, his expression thoughtful.

"If what you're saying is true, and the fox is indeed a god in disguise, what do you think they want with you?"

"I have no idea," the woman shook her head, uncertainty passing through her features.

She knew that even if what she was saying was true, there didn't have to be a reason for this. Many stories showed that sometimes, the only reason was a god's boredom or desire for some fleeting excitement in their long, immortal lives.

"A fox with glowing golden fur and eyes, and healing powers... it does sound like something beyond the ordinary... Perhaps you're right."

Lyra nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt a small silver of relief at sharing her experience. She knew she couldn't keep it to herself. She just knew there was something going on, something more than what she knew and understood. And she felt lighter after sharing that. Maybe as people with fresh perspective, Heron and Elias could help her make sense of this.

But she couldn't also feel a sense of dread fill her. She recalled the stories both Elias and her grandmother told her and Heron, about mortals who the gods had taken interest in. Very few of them ended well. And if she was right, and the fox turned out to be a god... she could only hope this wouldn't end as most stories did.

"Maybe it's a sign that the gods are watching over us," she said, shaking those thoughts off.

Elias watched her closely, his expression thoughtful. He seemed to have his suspicions, but he chose not to voice them. Instead, he simply nodded, his gaze lingering on Lyra for a moment longer before turning his attention back to the path ahead.

"Sometimes, the gods take an interest in mortals for reasons we can't comprehend," the old man remarked, his tone neutral. "If a god has chosen to watch over you, Lyra, then perhaps there is a purpose to it."

Heron smiled and threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a side hug.

"Whatever that fox was, it seems you were meant to encounter it. I'm glad it was there for you. I think we all need a bit of divine intervention sometimes, especially if it's something positive."

Lyra smiled, putting her arm around his middle in return. As they settled into the quiet of Heron's home, the unspoken fears seemed to lift, even if only for a moment, replaced by the fragile hope that perhaps the gods were indeed watching over them.

Just as the trio approached Heron's hut, Elias split away from them. The old man decided to walk around for a bit longer, before he would join them. Something about enjoying the nice day and nature around them. Lyra didn't really understand him, as she didn't think walking around with a broken leg would be that enjoyable, but she didn't stop him.

Heron also seemed to share her thought process, as just before Elias left them, the younger man made him promise not to linger for too long. The old man only gave a smile in return, before limping away.

As soon as Heron walked inside, he moved with a sense of urgency, grabbing whatever he thought would be useful and stuffing it into a small bag. Lyra frowned, concern and confusion etched across her face as she watched him dart around the small room.

Electra, who had been busy tending to something above the hearth, paused as she watched her son with growing anxiety. Heron's actions were hasty and determined, as each item he packed was shoved harshly into a sack that he threw over his shoulder when he was done.

Then, he walked towards Electra and stopped just in front of her, his eyes avoiding hers, as if he couldn't bear to see the pain and uncertainty reflected there. His breath came out in short, frustrated bursts.

"If what she says is true, we should go," he declared, referring to the conversation he had with Alexia, that he told his mother about, the night before.

"You don't understand. We can't," the woman whispered, her voice laced with a defeated desperation to stop him, even though she knew it was most likely a losing battle.

She knew that once her son set his mind on something, almost nothing could change his mind. She had a feeling this time was no different. But she also never told him the reason why they stayed, despite everything people of the polis put them through. And this was exactly the reason why he didn't understand why she was so against his actions.

"Why?" the man shot back, moving towards the doors.

Electra went after him, still trying to convince him not to leave. Lyra quietly followed after them, not wanting to interrupt the conversation she clearly had no part in.

"Heron, it'll be our death."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're no bastard," she said, her words heavy with the weight of a long-kept secret.

Lyra sucked in a sudden breath, completely caught off guard. At the same moment, Heron froze, the truth hanging in the air like a tangible force. He could feel she was telling the truth. Deep inside, he knew she was. But his mind refused to accept it, as it raced, memories flooding back with painful clarity.

He remembered the sneers and harsh words from the other children, the way they taunted him for being a bastard. 'Illegitimate,' they would hiss, their voices dripping with disdain.

He recalled the countless times he had been pushed, shoved, and beaten, simply for existing. The older boys, their fists flying, calling him names that stung more than the blows. The adults who whispered behind his back, not even hiding it, their judgmental stares following him wherever he went.

They all treated him like an outcast, a stain on their community. Even when he was helping, working harder than anyone else, their eyes were filled with contempt. His status as a bastard was a constant shadow, overshadowing every achievement, every moment of happiness.

He remembered the nights he cried himself to sleep, the loneliness wrapping around him like a suffocating shroud.

His mother, one of the very few sources of comfort in his life, often told him stories of heroes and gods to distract him from the cruelty of the world. She had given him strength, but now, her revelation was tearing apart the very foundation of his identity, of everything he thought he knew about himself.

"Your father—" Electra continued, but was cut off by the shouts in a distance.

"There's the whore! I see her."

"That old slut."

"Over there."

They all turned and saw a group of people walking towards them, a bowl of red-hot coal carried by the two in the middle. Iron poker was buried into it, heating up the metal rod.

Heron instantly pushed both Lyra and his mother behind him. The approaching man on the front took the white-hot rod out of the coals and looked at Electra with a cruel smirk.

"We're here to test your whore mother," he announced, glancing towards Heron.

"You touch her with that and I'll end you," the younger man threatened.

"Ever since she's turned up, a cloud has hung over us," the leader pointed towards the sky, which true to his word never seemed to brighten up. "She's one of them."

They started moving towards the trio. Heron snarled, taking out his knife and pulling his mother further away from them. The man chuckled as he stopped and gave the younger man a kidding look.

"You can't kill all of us," he said.

"No. Just some," Heron declared, and took a step forward, straightening and raising his voice. "Who's first?"

The leader sneered and shoved the first thug towards Heron. Without hesitation, the younger man delivered a swift, precise blow that sent the man crumpling to the ground.

The second thug came at him with a knife, slashing wildly. Heron deflected the attack, with a deft movement, countering with a powerful punch that sent the man stumbling back into their leader. The knife clattered to the ground as the thug fell, temporarily out of the fight.

Before Heron could even turn around and see what was happening, the third man tackled him with a feral growl, taking him by surprise and causing him to lose his knife. They struggled on the ground, rolling and grappling. Heron's eyes flashed with determination as he fought to regain control of the fight.

Lyra, watching with wide eyes, her fingers instinctively reaching towards her bow, only to realise she left it at home.

As they struggled, she noticed Alexia and Ismene arriving at the scene with their men. But instead of intervening, like she half-expected them to, the group hung back to watch the unfolding fight with unreadable expressions.

Heron managed to throw the man off him, scrambling to his feet just as the fourth thug lunged at him. They exchanged blows, each strike more desperate than the last. Heron, fuelled by adrenaline and rage, quickly overpowered the man, sending him crashing to the ground.

Just as Heron caught his breath, the fifth thug attacked from behind, kicking Heron's knee and making him fall.

The thug caught Heron under his arms, holding him in place. The fourth thug, recovering from his earlier defeat, stepped up and threw a punch at Heron. The hit landed squarely, snapping Heron's head to the side.

Heron quickly recovered, his vision swimming. With a burst of strength, he kicked the man in front of him back and then used the momentum to throw the fifth thug over his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground.

The second thug, having regained his bearings, re-entered the fray, delivering a vicious kick to Heron's head. Heron fell to the ground, dazed and vulnerable. Seeing her friend in trouble, Lyra's hesitation vanished.

She quickly spotted Heron's bow, propped against the side of his hut and grabbed it. She nocked an arrow, ready to intervene if necessary.

The thugs, sensing victory, swarmed Heron, kicking and punching him as he curled up to protect himself. The pain was excruciating, but Heron refused to cry out, his resolve unbroken.

The leader turned to her, a cruel smile spreading across his face, even as she held up her bow, arrow levelled in his face.

"You're next, lowborn," he spat.

Without any more hesitation, Lyra released her arrow, striking one of the thugs in the leg. He screamed in pain, stumbling back and away from Heron.

"That's enough!" Electra called out.

The fighting immediately stopped, and everyone looked at her. Ignoring their stares, the woman stepped towards the heated rod that had fallen during the fight and picked it up.

Heron groaned, trying to pull himself free, but his mother didn't even glance at him. She locked eyes with the leader of the thugs, and biting of her lip to silence any sounds that might leave her, she pressed the hot metal against her own skin.

The air filled with the sound of sizzling flesh, but Electra only let out a pained groan as tears streamed down her face. Lyra gasped and rushed to her, quickly pushing the rod away.

Alexia approached the thugs who were still holding down Heron. Seeing her, they released him immediately. Heron seized the opportunity and ran to his mother's side.

"Mom? Mom!"

Electra dropped the rod, letting it clatter to the ground, and collapsed to her knees.

Lyra was right there, easing her down gently as the older woman clutched her burned hand, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

Heron reached them, wrapping his arms around his mother, trying to check the burn. Electra hunched over, hiding her injured hand from view.

When she finally allowed them to see it, the angry red burn with a blackened line in the middle that made Heron pull her closer, shielding her as if to protect her from further harm, even though the damage was already done.

Alexia rode up to them, and they looked up to meet her eyes. She nodded at them silently, then rode off.

Elias sat on a pile of rocks, watching as Heron's silhouette became smaller as he walked further away. He didn't pay the pouring rain any mind, as he watched the young man start climbing the wall, just like he told him to do.

Soon enough, something caught his attention - a very familiar looking shadow on the ground, that appeared when the next lightning flashed. He looked over his shoulder with wide eyes.

There, on the rock slab above him, stood a tall man dressed in full armour, with a massive hammer resting on his shoulder. His blood red eyes glowed, as he glared down on the old man.

When the man jumped down and straightened, he towered over the older man by at least a head and a half. Elias had to tilt his head back to look him in the eyes. He showed no fear as he stood his ground, not moving even as the figure seemed to lean over him threateningly.

"How did you find me... Ares?" he asked.

"You betray your own bidding, o king of kings," the god of war declared.

When the next thunder struck, the older man decided to drop his disguise. As the flash disappeared, it revealed an even taller figure, much younger than the old human he was posing as.

"I thought we were not to intervene," Ares continued, as he now looked up, into his father's glowing blue eyes. "Or does that not apply to you?"

"I simply said we cannot fight for them," Zeus declared, as he leaned closer towards his son, a small smirk spreading across his lips. "And that I have not done."

Then, he turned his back on the god, walking back to his previous spot to watch the young man climb the wall in the distance. Meanwhile, Ares took off his helmet and scowled at his father.

"Oh, I see. I'll make that distinction clear to the others."

"You'll do no such thing," the god of thunder declared, his voice low and threatening.

"Then allow me to help you," the younger god asked, resting his hammer back on his shoulder.

"No," Zeus said sternly. "If man is meant to inherit the earth, they must do so on their own accord."

Ares raised a brow, as he looked at his father, before looking towards Heron, as he walked up to the other god's side.

"Then why do you come to this one's aid? Do you really think this bastard can lead them?"

For a moment, the god of thunder was silent, as he watched the young man climb up the mountain and not give up, like many would do. Instead, he pushed through the adverse conditions, determined to carry out the task he had been given.

"I do," he finally said.

"And what of the girl?" Ares asked.

"What of her?"

The god of war let out a low, rumbling chuckle as he stepped closer to his father. His blood-red eyes glinted with amusement.

"What of her?" Ares repeated, mockingly, tapping his hammer against his shoulder. "The huntress follows him everywhere. Why is she here? She’s mortal. Fragile. What use is she to this?"

Zeus kept his gaze on Heron. His expression remained unreadable, though his eyes flickered with something deeper—perhaps concern, perhaps calculation. His son could never tell.

"Lyra is not your concern," he finally said. "She is not a piece in this war."

And as much as he wanted to believe that, he felt his words were not true. He knew that when the time came, Lyra would be a part of this war as much as Heron. The two were attached at the hip and where one went, the other followed. If the man was to lead them, she would follow closely behind and quite possibly end up leading right beside him.

"Not my concern, is she?" Ares scoffed, his lips curling into a sly grin. "Funny, Father, because I see you keeping an eye on her almost as much as the boy. It makes me wonder… why you’re so invested in this mortal girl."

Zeus turned his head slightly, just enough to catch his son's smirk out of the corner of his eye. He clenched his jaw and looked away once again.

"I’m invested in them all. Every mortal. This world belongs to them now."

"But her," the god of war pressed, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read his father's expression. "There’s something different about her, isn't there? I've seen you watch her. A simple hunter girl wouldn’t catch your attention like this. She’s no hero, no leader of men like the boy. So what is it?"

Zeus exhaled slowly, refusing to meet Ares’s gaze. His patience was thinning, and Ares could feel it, like the calm before the storm. He knew better than to push too far, but curiosity was a stubborn beast. The god of war was used to answers, and the silence gnawed at him.

"She is more resilient than you know," the god of thunder finally said, his voice measured and distant. "Her role in this is not yours to understand. Not now."

"You speak as though her fate is sealed," Ares raised an eyebrow, intrigued as he finally seemed to get some answers. "As though she’s already carved her place into this story."

Zeus turned sharply, facing his son fully now, his smirk replaced by a hard, unyielding expression.

"You’ve asked enough, Ares. The girl is no threat to you, and you will not interfere. Is that clear?"

For a moment, the tension between the two gods thickened, like the charged air before a lightning strike. Ares held his father’s gaze, searching for some hint of weakness or uncertainty. But Zeus stood firm, a wall of power and authority, unshakeable.

Ares exhaled sharply through his nose and shook his head, a small, begrudging grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Fine," he said, stepping back slightly. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Mortals are fragile things, no matter how strong they seem. When the real war comes, she will be one of the first to crumble. And you will not be able to do anything about it."

"You might be right. But many mortals, her especially, have one persistent characteristic - no matter how many times they fall and crumble, they get back up, stronger and ready for more to come."

Lyra gently helped Electra to a sitting position, her heart aching at the sight of the older woman's pain.

She pulled a small pouch from her belt, filled with herbs and bandages she always carried for emergencies, a habit she picked up during her constant hunts. Carefully, she began to clean the burn, wiping the irritated skin around the burn with a damp rag, before gently pressing the fabric to the wound itself.

Electra let out a quiet hiss at the sudden contact, but other than that, she didn't react, letting Lyra continue her work.

"Thank you," Electra murmured, her voice strained but grateful.

"Of course," the younger woman replied softly. "I'm just glad you're alright. Hold still for a moment."

She dabbed a salve onto the burn, the soothing herbs doing their best to ease the pain. Electra winced but didn't pull away. Lyra's hands paused for a moment, before she reached for the bandage she prepared earlier and started wrapping it around Electra's burned arm.

"Electra," she began cautiously. "You were trying to tell us something about Heron's father before the thugs attacked. You said he's not a bastard."

Electra's eyes flickered with a mix of sorrow and reluctance. She looked around as if to ensure no one else was nearby, then met Lyra's gaze with a serious expression.

"I was... I wanted to tell Heron the truth. But..."

Lyra's curiosity was piqued.

"But? Is it something you can share now?" she asked softly.

"It's something I've been meaning to tell him, but I wasn't sure when the right time would come. Now, I see that it might be sooner than I hoped."

"Can you tell me? I promise I won't say a word to anyone, especially not to Heron, if you don't want me to."

Electra studied Lyra's face, seeing the sincerity in her eyes. Then, she thought that the younger woman also had a right to know. After all, she was a part of their small family too, even if not by blood. But both her and Heron loved her as one would a daughter and a sister. And she knew that Lyra saw them as such too.

Which was the reason why she hesitated only for a moment. After that, she took a deep breath, clearly struggling with the weight of her words, then spoke in a low voice. Ever since they got to this polis, she's been hiding her son's true parentage. And after so many years, it was hard to share, even with someone she trusted so deeply.

"Heron's father is not a man," she started. "He is a god."

Lyra blinked, unsure if she had heard correctly.

"A god?" she repeated.

"Yes," Electra confirmed, her voice trembling. "But not just any god. Heron is the son of Zeus, the king of the gods."

The revelation hung in the air between them, heavy and almost impossible to grasp. Lyra's hands momentarily faltered in their work as she processed the information.

"But why didn't you tell him?" she asked quietly. "He deserves to know who he really is."

Electra shook her head slowly, and almost on reflex went to clench her hand, but ended up wincing as her burn throbbed. With a long exhale, she relaxed her hand again, instead swallowing hard.

"I wanted to. But I wanted to do it when the time was right, when he could understand and accept it, understand everything entailed with such parentage. I feared that revealing it now, with everything else happening, would only bring him more pain and confusion. He's already been through so much."

Lyra nodded, though she still found it hard to fully comprehend.

"So, what does this mean? For him, for you, for... everyone?"

"It means that Heron's life has been shaped by forces beyond our control," Electra said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, "The struggles he has faced, the pain, the rejection... He's a god's son, yet he's been living as an outcast, unaware of his true identity, just like everyone around."

She shook her head, her heart aching at the mere thought about everything her son had to endure. She was there to comfort him after each beating, to help him clean the cuts and help him calm down. All those times, she wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth, to scream at everyone who ever hurt him. But she couldn't. Not back then.

And now, when she reached the point when she could, even should, tell him the truth, she couldn't bring herself to, years of silence making her postpone it even longer. But now, she started to realise she might not have all that time she thought she had.

Lyra's hands worked deftly to secure the bandage, her mind racing with the implications of Electra's confession.

"Then why keep it a secret?" the younger woman couldn't help but ask.

Electra sighed heavily.

"I wanted to protect him from the dangers that come with such knowledge. I wanted to shield him from the complications of divine heritage. I needed him to be strong and independent before he faced such a truth."

Lyra finished wrapping the burn, giving Electra a reassuring smile.

"I understand. I'll keep this secret, for now. But when the time comes, he deserves to know."

Electra gave a small, grateful smile.

"Thank you, Lyra. Your support means more than you know."

Lyra hesitated for a moment. As she had just found out that Electra seemed to have some more knowledge about the gods than most people, even interacted with one, maybe she might be the right person to ask. Maybe she could help her come up with a reasonable idea for what was going on.

"Can I ask you something, then?" she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"Of course," Electra nodded, her smile encouraging.

"I saw something unusual last night. A fox with what seemed like glowing golden eyes and coat. It felt... different, in a way that I can't really describe. But I thought it might have been a god in disguise."

Electra's eyes widened slightly.

"A fox with glowing golden eyes and fur? That sounds like it could be a divine messenger or even a shape-shifted god themselves. Gods often take on forms to interact with mortals, sometimes to offer guidance or to test us."

"Do you know of any gods who could take the form of a fox?" Lyra asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Or anything that might explain why it healed my wounds?"

Electra considered this for a moment.

"Artemis is known to take on animal forms, including foxes. But healing... that's unusual for her," the woman said. "While Artemis is considered a goddess of healing, her twin brother, Apollo, is much more commonly prayed to for medical help. Typically, people pray to Artemis for assistance during childbirth."

"So if the fox wasn't Artemis, then it could have been Apollo?" she asked, trying to piece together what she had experienced.

She remembered stories about Apollo. Now, that she thought about that, it might be possible. The god was said to have golden hair and he was a patron god of the sun. This could explain the golden coat of the fox and the glow she saw. And healing? Just like Electra had just said.

"It's possible. Apollo is known for his healing powers and his affinity with the sun, which could explain the golden glow," the older woman said, as if she could read the younger one's mind. "If the fox was indeed a god, Apollo would make sense given the circumstances."

Lyra slowly nodded, but there was still one thing that she didn't even know what to think of.

"But why would he come to me?"

"Gods have their reasons, Lyra," the woman shrugged. "Perhaps he saw something in you, something worth his attention."

As they spoke, the door creaked open, and Elias limped into the room, leaning heavily on his cane. He gave them a small smile when he saw the two of them looking his way, before hobbling towards the hearth and sitting down opposite of them.

"I couldn't help but overhear," the man said, his voice steady and warm. "You mentioned a fox with golden eyes? The one we discussed earlier?"

"Yes, the one that approached me last night and healed my wounds," Lyra nodded. "Electra also thinks it might have been a god. Apollo, to be more precise."

Elias's eyes twinkled with a knowing look.

"The gods often work in mysterious ways. Like I said earlier, a fox with golden eyes sounds like no ordinary creature. If it healed you, it could very well have been Apollo. He is known to take an interest in mortals from time to time."

"So you believe it could be Apollo, too?" Lyra's eyes widened slightly.

"It's possible. Apollo has many ways of reaching out to those he wishes to aid. If he healed you, it might be a sign of his favour or his desire to help you in some way," Electra exchanged a knowing look with Elias.

"It felt like the fox was trying to comfort me, and it helped with the pain, so you might be right," the younger woman mused.

"Perhaps it's a sign that you are meant for something greater, Lyra," Elias smiled gently. "The gods don't interfere lightly. Whatever the reason, it's clear that you are under their watchful eyes."

Electra nodded in agreement.

"Keep your heart open, Lyra. Trust in the guidance you've been given. The gods see more than we do, and their intentions, though often unclear, are never without purpose."

"Thank you. I'll try to remember that," Lyra offered a grateful smile to both Electra and Elias.

Elias placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Just continue to be true to yourself and those you care for, Lyra. The path will reveal itself in time."

Chapter Text

The early morning light filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor, as Lyra moved through the forest, her bow slung over her shoulder.

However, her mind was far from the hunt, preoccupied with everything she came up during her conversation with Electra and Elias yesterday. It had stirred something deep within her.

The older woman's revelation about Heron's father being Zeus, and the way Elias had seemed to linger with an aura of hidden knowledge, had led her to reconsider everything she'd experienced with the golden fox. The healing touch, the otherworldly presence—it all began to fit together in a way that she couldn't ignore.

As she wandered deeper into the woods, she found her steps slowing down, her focus wavering. The birds' songs and rustling leaves seemed to blur together into a single, distant hum.

Her thoughts kept drifting back to the night before—the soothing touch of the fox, the mysterious glow, and the strange sense of familiarity.

Ever since the encounter, it seemed all she could focus on. Her mind ran over various possibilities and scenarios as she replayed the meeting over and over again in her head.

Lost in thought, Lyra barely noticed when she stumbled upon a small clearing, a familiar place where rays of sunlight streamed down through the canopy of leaves, creating a patchwork of light and shadow.

And there, as if summoned by her wandering mind, was the fox again, its golden fur gleaming in the dappled light.

Lyra froze, her heart skipping a beat. The fox sat calmly at the edge of the clearing, Its fur shimmered like sunlight filtering through leaves, and its eyes held that same ethereal, almost hypnotic glow she had seen two nights before.

They locked on her with an intensity that felt both comforting and unsettling. She could hardly believe the coincidence; the fox was here again, at a time when she needed answers more than ever.

Taking a deep breath, she approached slowly, her footsteps careful on the soft ground. The fox did not move, its gaze steady and unblinking. Lyra knelt a short distance away, her hands resting lightly on her knees.

"You again," she began softly. "I've been thinking about you a lot lately. About the night we met and what happened afterward. I talked with Electra and Elias, and now I'm starting to think..."

She paused, searching for the right words. The fox's golden eyes seemed to glimmer with an almost knowing light, its expression inscrutable. But, as expected, it gave her no answer. Still, it didn't stop her from trying.

"I think you might be more than just a fox," Lyra continued, her voice steadying with newfound resolve. "I'm starting to believe that maybe you're... well, someone else. Someone who's been watching over me."

The fox tilted its head slightly, a gesture that seemed almost thoughtful. Lyra swallowed hard, her heart pounding with a mix of hope and anxiety.

"I'm not asking for you to reveal yourself or anything," she said quickly, her gaze dropping to the ground before meeting the fox's eyes again. "I just... I want to understand why. Why you're here, and why you've helped me. What is it that you want from me?"

The fox once again tilted its head slightly, but still offered no answer. The woman's heart pounded as she waited, but the fox's gaze remained unchanging, its golden eyes reflecting the light of the morning sun.

However, she saw that there was a calm certainty in the animal's demeanour, an assurance that seemed to tell her she was on the right track, even if the answers were not yet clear.

Then, the fox's gaze seemed to soften, and it blinked slowly, as if acknowledging her words. She reached out a hand tentatively, her fingers brushing against the fox's soft fur. The animal remained still, its warmth a reassuring comfort against her skin.

"Maybe I don't need all the answers right now," she murmured, her voice filled with a quiet determination. "Maybe just knowing that you're here is enough for now."

The fox nuzzled her hand gently, and Lyra could feel a sense of calm spreading through her. Despite not receiving a direct answer, she felt a deep, unspoken connection. There was something undeniably reassuring in the fox's presence, a silent acknowledgment that she was on the right path.

As the fox eventually rose and disappeared into the underbrush, Lyra remained in the clearing for a few moments longer, her thoughts clearer and her resolve stronger.

She stood up, ready to continue her hunt, but with a new sense of purpose and a quiet confidence that she was not alone in her struggles.

Her steps through the forest felt lighter, and as she moved on, she couldn't shake the feeling that, in some mysterious way, a god was indeed watching over her. But her mind was quieter now, her thoughts no longer swirling in confusion but rather settling into a profound sense of purpose and acceptance.

After returning from the hunt, Lyra spent the rest of her morning with her four younger siblings in the small, sunlit clearing behind their home. The laughter and chatter of children filled the air, a welcome distraction from the recent events that messed with her head a lot since everything started.

The clearing was a patch of wilderness that the children had turned into their own playground. It was bordered by tall, ancient trees that provided a gentle shade, and wildflowers grew in vibrant clumps around its edges.

Lyra's younger siblings—Theo, the second oldest, Alexander and Calista, the twins, who were five years old, and Maris, the youngest—were scattered around, engaging in their usual games.

Maris, the four-year-old, was busy building a small fortress out of sticks and leaves, her brow furrowed in concentration. Theo, who was six, was attempting to catch a butterfly with a makeshift net he'd fashioned from an old hoop and some cloth.

The twins, Alexander and Calista, were sitting in the grass, deeply engrossed in a game of make-believe. Alexander was trying to convince Calista that they were knights on a grand quest. The girl, always eager to please her older brother, giggled and played along, pretending to wield a sword made from a slender stick.

Lyra watched them with a smile, her heart lightening at the sight of their joy. She approached Maris, kneeling beside her.

"How's the fortress coming along?" she asked, her voice warm and encouraging.

Maris looked up, her cheeks flushed from running around looking for perfect sticks and leaves big enough to cover the wooden base.

"It's almost done! But I need more leaves for the walls. Can you help me gather some? But they have to be big and green!"

Lyra nodded with a smile and stood up, moving towards a pile of leafy branches nearby. Theo, noticing her approach, abandoned his butterfly chase and ran up to her.

"Lyra! Look at the butterfly I almost caught!" he exclaimed, showing her the colourful creature flitting just out of reach.

"It's beautiful, Theo," Lyra smiled, as she looked after it. "Maybe next time you'll catch it. For now, why don't you help me find some more leaves for Maris?"

Theo's face lit up with enthusiasm, and he eagerly joined his sister in searching for green leaves. As they worked, Lyra chatted with him about his latest adventures, listening with genuine interest.

Meanwhile, Alexander and Calista had become so engrossed in their game that they began reenacting a battle scene, complete with dramatic sword fights and heroic shouts. Lyra paused and watched them, her smile growing as she realised just how much the two reminded her of herself and Heron.

She and her friend often used to reenact battles from the tales of the great heroes. They too used sticks as swords and together, they fought off imaginary monsters.

Once the leaves were gathered and brought back to Maris, Lyra left the girl and Theo to continue building and joined the twins instead, carefully stepping around Maris's fortress to avoid disturbing it.

"So, what's the latest quest you two are on?" she asked, her voice playful.

Alexander, holding his stick like a sword, looked at her with wide, shining eyes.

"We're saving the polis from the evil dragon!" he declared. "But we need a brave warrior to help us!"

Lyra grinned and took up a stick, joining their imaginary battle.

"I'll be that warrior! Let's defeat the dragon together!"

For the next hour, they played and laughed, their imaginations running wild as they vanquished imaginary foes and embarked on grand adventures.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, warming their faces and casting a golden glow over the clearing.

When they finally collapsed in a heap of tired, giggling bodies, Lyra felt a profound sense of contentment. The weight of her recent worries seemed to lift, if only temporarily. Here, in the midst of her siblings' laughter and the simplicity of their games, she found a moment of respite and joy.

Sometime later, they slowly started to settle down, as the games worn them out. Theo and Maris settled on both sides of their oldest sister, as their eyes dropped. Still, Alexander and Callista seemed to be full of energy as they ran around, seemingly collecting something.

"Lyra, look!" the boy called out, holding up a small frog he had caught. "Isn't it cool?"

"Very cool, Alex," Lyra chuckled and nodded. "Just be gentle with it, okay?"

His twin sister, not wanting to be outdone, ran over with a handful of wildflowers.

"Lyra, I picked these for you! Aren't they pretty?"

"They're beautiful, Callie. Thank you," the woman took the flowers and tucked one behind Calista's ear, making her giggle with delight.

Then, the girl pulled something out of her bunch, then held it out to her older sister, showing her a delicate blue flower.

"Do you know what kind of flower this is? I've never seen one like it before."

"I'm not sure, but it's lovely," Lyra took the flower and examined it closely. "Maybe we can ask Elias later. He knows a lot about plants."

Then, an idea came to her mind and she sent her sister a wide smile. Just as the twins flopped down beside her, snuggling into their siblings' sides, Lyra looked towards Callista with a smile.

"You know what these flowers can be good for?" she asked, and the girl rose her head, shaking her head with a frown. "I bet they would make amazing flower crowns. Don't you think?"

Calista's eyes sparkled with excitement, as she shot up in her seat.

"Yes! Let's make flower crowns!"

Maris and Theo perked up at the suggestion, eager to join in the fun. Lyra showed them how to weave the stems together, creating delicate chains of blossoms. The twins eagerly followed her lead, their little fingers clumsily but enthusiastically working with the flowers.

Soon enough, all five of them had crowns, made out of flowers they liked the most. Lyra smiled as she looked between her younger siblings, all fussing over their handiwork.

Just then, she noticed Heron approaching from the edge of the clearing. He looked weary but managed a smile as he saw the scene before him. The children quickly noticed him too, and they ran over to greet him, their energy boundless.

"Heron! Heron!" Theo called out, waving his little hand in the air.

"Hey, everyone!" the man greeted as he started making his way towards them.

Theo, Alexander, Callista, and Maris immediately jumped up and ran to him, their flower crowns bouncing as they moved. The twins grabbed each of Heron's hands and led him towards the place, where Lyra still sat. Once they reached her, the kids tugged him down to the grass, their excitement infectious.

"Heron, we made flower crowns!" Theo exclaimed, pointing proudly to his own.

Heron chuckled and knelt down to their level.

"I can see that. They look beautiful."

"We should make one for Heron!" Alexander's eyes lit up with a new idea. "To match his tunic and eyes!"

"Yes! Blue flowers!" Callista clapped her hands in agreement.

Maris nodded, excitement lighting her eyes up and her tiny hands already reaching for more flowers. The four children began gathering more blue flowers with great enthusiasm, running around and shouting happily when they found the ones they deemed nice enough to collect.

"Looks like you've got quite the little team there," the man remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement as both of them watched the children run around.

"They've been keeping me busy all afternoon," Lyra chuckled softly, relaxing against the tree again. "It's nice to see them so happy."

Heron's expression grew more serious.

"Lyra, I wanted to talk to you about something. I had a strange dream last night. And it might sound crazy, but... I think it might be connected to my birth."

"What did you see?" the woman turned to him.

Heron took a deep breath, trying to recall the details. They were a bit hazy, but he could remember them enough to share with Lyra.

"I saw my mother. She was giving birth to two boys. One had brown eyes, and the other had blue eyes... like mine. The details are a bit fuzzy, but I remember that a man tried to kill the blue-eyed baby. But then an eagle swooped down and stopped him."

"That sounds... intense," she frowned, processing the information. "Do you think it could be a memory?"

She knew this was a long shot, even longer as no one remembers the day they were born. Most people didn't even remember most of their childhood. But there were some rare cases that people dreamed about something that happened to them as a small child and it turned out to be true, but she couldn't recall ever hearing about someone remembering something from moments after their birth.

"I don't know," Heron admitted, turning his head away and looking towards the woods on the other side of the clearing. "But it felt real. Like it was something important. Something I need to understand."

Lyra placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and he turned his head back to her. She had a soft, reassuring smile on her face, the one she always gave him when there was something bothering him and she wanted to help him.

"Dreams can be powerful, especially ones that feel so real," she mused. "Maybe it's a sign, something about your past that you need to uncover."

She wanted to tell him about what she found out from Electra, that she might have an idea what was going on. But she promised the older woman that she wouldn't say anything, as Electra wanted to be the one to tell him. So, she kept quiet. Instead, she only gave him a hint to talk to his mother.

"Thanks, Lyra," Heron sighed, grateful for her support. "I just wish I knew what it all meant."

Before Lyra could respond, the children returned, holding a newly made crown of blue flowers. They beamed with pride as they presented it to Heron.

"Here, Heron! We made this for you!" Alexander said, holding the crown up to him.

Heron's face lit up with genuine happiness. He took the crown gently and placed it on his head.

"Thank you, everyone. It's perfect. I feel like a king," he puffed out his chest playfully.

The children giggled and clapped, pleased with their creation. Heron smiled widely and ruffled Theo's hair and gave each of them a warm smile. Lyra watched the interaction, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

"You have a wonderful family, Lyra."

"They're pretty special," Lyra agreed, her gaze softening as she watched her siblings as they ran off again. "And so are you, Heron. And remember, if you ever need some help, I'll be right here. We'll figure this out together, just like we always have."

"Together," Heron nodded, then paused and glanced towards his best friend again. "When I ask my mom about the dream and what it might mean, I want you to be there with me."

"I'll be there, Heron," Lyra nodded, touched by his request. "You don't have to face this alone."

"Thank you, Lyra. It means a lot to me," the man nodded, relief washing over his face.

His friend placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"You're not alone in this."

Heron smiled, the weight of his worries lifting slightly with her words.

"I know. With you by my side, I feel like I can face anything."

As they sat together, basking in the afternoon sun, the worries and mysteries of their pasts seemed to fade away, if only for a moment. In that meadow, surrounded by laughter and love, they found a brief respite from all the mess, that was going on.

After Lyra and Heron finally managed to herd the found children back into the house, the man decided it was time to get his answers. He and his best friend walked back to his house, where they found his mother sitting in the garden.

Taking a deep breath, he walked over to her and started the conversation.

"There's something I need to ask you. I had... the most peculiar dream. You were a queen."

At this, Electra's shoulders slumped and she stopped her work, but stayed with her back turned to him.

"But that's impossible, right?" Heron continued.

His mother slowly stood up and turned around to face the two. Her eyes briefly glanced towards Lyra, who stayed back, before looking back at her son. She entwined her hands, and straightened her back.

"I was married. To a king," she sighed, her shoulders once again slumping as her eyes looked anywhere but Heron. "But this was long ago."

"Then, how did we end up here?" the man looked around their modest house and everything around them.

"We didn't have a choice," Electra put her head down.

"What king?"

"King Periander."

"The Tyrant of Corinth," Heron muttered, piecing it together.

The woman nodded, her gaze distant.

"It was all prearranged. I had no say. Not long after I was married, I caught a god's eye. I had no idea at first. All I knew was that one day, my husband was kind and loving. The next, he was cold and demeaning. At first, I thought maybe it was his temperament. Despising one... while loving the other. It was maddening, never knowing what to expect," Electra's voice grew softer, almost as if she were reliving the memories.

Heron's fists clenched at his sides, and Lyra felt a pang of sympathy for him. She watched quietly, but she knew it was not her place to intervene. She was simply here as a mere bystander and she will remain so until they asked her to step in.

"What did you do?" the man asked.

Electra glanced at Lyra, before turning back to Heron, her eyes filled with a mix of amusement and sorrow.

"I confronted him. I put a knife to his throat and demanded to know the truth. That's when Zeus revealed himself to me."

Lyra's eyes widened, as she looked at the woman. She had no idea how she felt discovering that the woman before her threatened the King of Heavens with a knife and not only lived, but got him to fall in love with her.

Meanwhile, Heron's eyes widened from another reason, as his breath hitched.

"Zeus?"

"Apollo contacted Zeus through a mirror, warning him that Hera had seen them. Zeus had to go back while Apollo covered for him," Electra's smile grew a bit nostalgic, as she looked at her son. "That very same night, I discovered I was pregnant with you."

Heron's heart pounded in his chest. The revelation was overwhelming.

"But the king...?" he asked and his mother's face hardened.

"The eye of a jealous woman is very sharp. Hera enlisted the help of the Oneiroi. They appeared to the king in dreams, telling him he would have twins, one of which was not his. The king swore if I bore a child not of his line, he would kill it. Your father saved you."

Heron's breath hitched.

"What happened?"

"When your father saw that the king was about to kill you, he intervened. Zeus protected us when the king's men attacked. I..." Electra's voice wavered as she recounted the harrowing events. "I killed my husband when he tried to throw you off the balcony. Zeus took us from the palace, leaving your brother behind. He believed he would be better off there."

Heron struggled to process the torrent of emotions flooding through him. He felt a mix of anger, relief, and a profound sadness. He had no idea how to process everything he found out, which was a lot more than he initially expected.

"Zeus hid us here, enshrouding the village in darkness so Hera couldn't find us," his mother continued. "That's why the people thought we were omens of misfortune. The dark clouds your father called forth that day have never lifted. But he had no choice. If Hera were to find us... she would kill us."

Heron took a shaky breath, his voice filled with a mixture of confusion and anger.

"What happened to my brother?"

Electra looked down, pulling out her necklace and gazing at it for a moment before answering.

"I thought he'd inherit the throne. But I was wrong. He was killed by his uncle, who coveted the crown. Not being there for him is my greatest regret," her voice shook, her eyes closing against the flood of tears.

Heron's face contorted with pain.

"All these years, I thought we were all alone. But I had a brother."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Electra's tears fell freely now.

"What was the name of the man who killed him?"

"Don't look back, Heron," the woman said, placing a trembling hand on her son's face. "Look forward. You're the son of Zeus."

Heron pulled her hand away and looked away from her, glancing at Lyra instead. His friend, who stood a few steps away from them, gave him a soft, sad smile as her arms tightened around herself. Everything they found out was a lot more than either of them expected.

"The old man has done more for us than Zeus ever has," he finally declared.

"You don't understand," Electra whispered.

"What's there to understand?" Heron's voice rose, his frustration boiling over. "When I broke my arm, who was there to set it? When we were starving, who always brought us a rabbit?"

He glanced towards Lyra for a second, the look in his eyes assuring her he also appreciated everything she's done for them, for him. She gave him a small nod in return. She didn't mind. He was making a point and she had nothing against that, as she knew how much her help was appreciated. They always showed her.

"He has nothing, but he still helps us," the man finished, looking back towards his mother.

And in that moment, he noticed the look in Electra's eyes, the way she looked away from him. Suddenly, realization dawned on him.

"No," he let out a small gasp, his eyes widening. "Is the old man Zeus? Is he my father?"

The older woman looked back at him, her own tears spilling over. Heron's own eyes filled with tears, his voice breaking.

"He's a coward," he spat.

"Don't say that," his mother pleaded.

"He's a coward for abandoning you, for letting you live like a dog, to have stones thrown at you," his voice was filled with a mixture of anger and sorrow.

Heron turned abruptly and walked away, not sparing his mother and best friend another look.

Lyra watched him go, torn between following him and giving him the space he clearly needed. She glanced at Electra, who looked heartbroken and defeated. She took a deep breath and made a decision. Stepping towards Electra, she placed a reassuring hand on the older woman's shoulder.

"I'll go talk to him," she said softly.

"Thank you, Lyra," Electra nodded weakly.

Lyra turned and followed the path Heron had taken, her heart heavy with the weight of the revelations and the turmoil in her friend's eyes.

She knew he needed someone to help him navigate the storm of emotions he was experiencing. And she was determined to be there for him, no matter what.

Then, she heard a sound of something crumbling and Heron's grunts. She quickly walked towards the source of the sound and found the man stomping angrily on the – now broken – smelter.

"Heron, wait," she called softly.

Heron stopped but didn't turn around.

"I want to be alone, Lyra."

The woman hesitated, her heart aching for him.

"I know you do. But you don't have to go through this alone. We're in this together, remember?"

Heron finally turned to face her, his eyes red and filled with tears.

"It's just... it's so much to take in."

"I know," Lyra nodded, stepping closer. "And it's okay to feel overwhelmed. But remember, you're not alone. I'm here for you, and so is Electra."

She also wanted to add Elias... or Zeus... or whatever name he went by, now that they knew the truth, but decided against it, as he was the reason her best friend was feeling all of this in the first place and she was sure he had no desire to talk to his father at the moment. At least not until his emotions calm down, even only slightly.

Heron took a deep breath, his anger slowly giving way to exhaustion.

"Thank you, Lyra," Heron wiped his eyes and looked down, taking a moment to collect himself. "It's just... how do I even begin to confront him? He's been here, right in front of us, this whole time."

"I can't pretend to understand everything you're going through, but I do know that you don't have to face it alone. We'll figure this out, one step at a time," the woman stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "Start by talking to your mother. She's been carrying this burden alone for so long. Let her help you understand."

The man looked down, his shoulders slumping.

"I just feel so lost."

She reached out, placing a hand on his arm.

"You're not lost. You're finding your way. And you have people who care about you, who will help you. We'll figure this out together."

He met her gaze, his eyes filled with gratitude and a flicker of hope.

"You're right. I just need to take it one step at a time."

"Exactly," Lyra smiled, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "And you're stronger than you think, Heron. You've faced so much already, and you'll get through this too."

Heron nodded slowly, the tension in his posture easing a bit.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Lyra."

"You don't have to worry about that," she replied, her voice gentle. "I'm not going anywhere."

Heron took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead.

"Alright. Let's go talk to her."

With Lyra by his side, Heron turned back towards the house, ready to face the truth and the uncertainties that lay ahead. Whatever challenges they would face, they would face them together. And that, she knew, would make all the difference.

Chapter Text

Apollo sat on a high branch, cloaked in the golden hues of the setting sun, his gaze fixed on the forest below.

The leaves rustled gently around him, and he could hear the distant calls of birds as they settled in for the night. But his focus was unwavering, centred on a lone figure moving through the underbrush with silent determination.

Lyra.

She had caught his attention during her hunt a few days ago with a playful and bold prayer, the one that most people would heavily disapprove of. Apollo, however, found her audacity amusing. But it wasn't her attitude, but rather her beauty and spirit that truly captivated him.

While most would describe her as plain-looking, having inherited the same dark eyes and hair most mortals had, there was something about her that made her stand out among the rest in his eyes.

He found himself watching her more often than he cared to admit, intrigued by her resilience and strength.

That day, she was stalking through the forest, clearly with intention to hunt, but her mind kept her distracted and unfocused. Still, she moved with a grace that belied her troubled thoughts. But her eyes betrayed her, the distant look in them each time looked into them.

Apollo watched as she paused by a small stream, kneeling to drink from the clear water. Her reflection rippled on the surface, and for a moment, Apollo saw her as she truly was—vulnerable, yet unyielding. A mortal, but one with a spirit that shone brighter than most.

Silently, he descended from his perch, his form shifting to that of the golden-haired fox. It was in this guise that he had approached her before, offering comfort and healing without revealing his true identity. He padded quietly through the underbrush, his eyes never leaving her.

Lyra sighed, sitting back on her heels and looking up at the sky. The twilight deepened, painting the horizon in shades of orange and purple.

Apollo could see the worry etched on her face, the questions swirling in her mind.

Deciding to make his presence known, he stepped into the clearing, his golden fur catching the last rays of sunlight. Lyra's eyes widened as she saw him, recognition flickering in her gaze.

"We meet once again," she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. "What brings you here this time?"

Apollo approached slowly, his movements fluid and unthreatening. He could sense her curiosity, her unspoken questions. She reached out tentatively, and he nuzzled her hand, feeling the warmth of her touch. He craved it, wanted to get every bit she offered even if it was only a gentle petting when he was in his fox form. He still welcomed it and came back for more.

"You seem to appear whenever I need some help or a sign," she said softly, more to herself than to him. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

He met her gaze, his golden eyes reflecting the light of the setting sun. In that moment, he wished he could speak to her, to tell her everything. But the time was not yet right. First, he wanted to see if this mortal was truly worth his time. So far, almost everything inside him screamed that yes, she was.

He settled beside her, offering silent companionship. Lyra sighed again, this time in resignation.

"You really are something special," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "I’m still not sure if you're a god or just a very smart fox, but thank you. For being here."

She leaned back, her head resting against a tree trunk, and closed her eyes. Apollo watched her, a mix of admiration and affection swelling within him. She was more than just a mortal; she was someone who was slowly breaking through the thick walls he had built around his heart, and touched it in a way he hadn't expected. In the way he hadn't let anyone in a long time.

"I had a long day, but at least it was interesting," she began, her voice a soft murmur in the quiet evening. "My siblings and I spent most of it making flower crowns. First, Theo and Maris had a little argument over who could climb the highest tree. Then, Callista and Alexander were so excited to gather the flowers, and Maris kept trying to eat them instead of putting them in the crowns."

Apollo's ears twitched with interest, and Lyra chuckled, the sound light and genuine.

"The four of them made the most beautiful crown for Heron, with blue flowers to match his tunic and eyes. It was such a simple, happy moment..." she sighed, a small smile playing at her lips. "I even made an extra one for you."

She reached into her satchel and carefully pulled out a delicate crown woven from flowers of soft blues and whites, their colours chosen to complement the fox's golden fur. The animal's been on her mind constantly and long enough for her to almost include him absentmindedly in the flower crowns.

"I thought you might like it," she said, her voice tinged with a shy hopefulness as she turned the crown over in her hands, examining it, as if she was checking if everything was alright with it. "It reminded me of a pleasant day, and I thought you might enjoy it too."

With gentle hands, she placed it on his head, smiling as she adjusted it.

"There,” she nodded satisfied. “Now you look like the king of this forest."

Apollo tilted his head slightly, feeling the weight of the crown. His heart swelled with an unfamiliar warmth as he looked up at Lyra. She had no idea who he truly was, yet she treated him with such kindness and care. The woman herself chuckled, her laughter like music in the quiet forest.

Then, after a moment, she sighed and her expression growing sombre once again.

"I talked to Heron and his mother. It was intense, to say the least. Finding out about his real father, and everything that happened… it's a lot to process."

The evening was serene, the only sounds being the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of crickets. As Lyra spoke, her voice carried a note of vulnerability that she seldom allowed herself to express so openly.

"You know," she began softly, her fingers lightly tracing patterns in the grass beside her, "I always felt like I had to be strong for my siblings. Theo, Alexander, Callista, and Maris—they look up to me. I’m the one who tries to keep us together, to make sure we’re okay."

Apollo listened intently, his golden eyes reflecting the fading light as Lyra continued to speak, her voice soothing and contemplative. The forest around them seemed to listen too, the rustle of leaves and distant calls of night creatures forming a gentle symphony to her words.

“It’s funny,” she began, her fingers lightly brushing the fox’s golden fur absentmindedly as she spoke. “I’ve been thinking… It’s almost surreal how everything is connected. Electra, the woman I’ve always seen as my mother—she turns out to have been a queen, married to King Periander of Corinth. And Elias... well, Elias is most likely a god, Zeus himself.”

She paused, glancing at the fox to see if he reacted to her words. He simply looked back at her with those understanding golden eyes, and she continued, her voice growing more animated with each sentence.

“It's strange to think that someone I’ve always seen as just a kind old man might actually be a god. Elias, who taught me everything a father should—how to shoot a bow, how to survive—has always been there for me, when my real father wouldn’t. He treated me as if I were his own daughter. I never understood why he cared so much…” she let out a weak laugh. “I always thought he took pity on me. When we first met, I was just a small girl, afraid of her own shadow and hated by everyone here. Not like much has changed.”

Apollo felt a pang of sorrow at her self-deprecation. He saw her as much more than just a frightened child; her strength and kindness had captivated him. To hear her speak so lightly of herself, as if she were still that small, neglected girl…

He longed to show her how much she truly mattered, but for now, he could only watch and silently vow to be there for her, appreciating the strength and vulnerability she revealed so effortlessly.

"And Heron... He’s become like a brother to me, too," she said softly, her voice filled with a mixture of sadness and affection, "We share a bond that's deeper than blood. I’ve always felt that way, even before I knew everything about his past. Learning about it only strengthened the love I hold for him."

Then, he watched as Lyra’s smile grew even wider, as she shifted the topic to her blood-related siblings.

“And then there are my other siblings. Theo, Alexander, Callista, and Maris. Theo is so brave for his age, always looking out for the younger ones. Alexander and Callista… they’re like two little whirlwinds, always up to something. And Maris, she’s a bundle of energy and curiosity,” she chuckled softly, her gaze faraway as she remembered the little moments of joy they had shared.

She looked down at the fox, her eyes reflecting the fading light of the day.

"It’s strange how the people who have become family to me aren’t necessarily bound by blood," she mused, "But I guess it’s the connections we form, the love we give and receive, that truly makes us a family. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m doing enough for them. I try so hard to be there for everyone, to make sure they’re safe and happy. It’s exhausting, but… I wouldn’t change it for anything. I wish I could understand more about what’s happening. About why things are the way they are. But I’m grateful for the people who have been there for me, for us. Elias, Electra, and Heron… and you, too.”

Her fingers gently stroked the crown of flowers she had placed on the fox’s head.

“I made this crown for you because it reminded me of the simple joys and the moments of peace we all need. I hope it brings you some happiness, as much as you’ve given me just by being here,” she paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m trying to be strong for everyone, for Heron, for my siblings. But sometimes it’s hard. I just wish I knew more, understood more. About everything.”

The fox tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes fixed on her with an almost human depth of empathy. Lyra took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over her as she continued to speak, her words mingling with the evening air.

“It’s strange, really. I’ve never been one for long conversations with animals, but there’s something about you that makes me feel like I can say anything. Maybe it’s because you’ve been here when I needed someone to listen.”

Apollo listened, his heart aching for her. He wished he could ease her burdens, but for now, all he could do was be there for her in this form. He would watch over her, protect her, knowing that the time would come when he could reveal his true self and share the full story.

But for now, he was content to be her silent guardian, the golden fox who appeared when she needed him most.

The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows through the trees, and the forest was alive with the sounds of evening. Lyra sat in the forest, the golden fox still by her side, its presence comforting as she tried to process the whirlwind of revelations from earlier.

As she absentmindedly stroked the fox’s fur, she heard a familiar rustling in the underbrush. Turning, she saw Elias emerging from the trees, his expression sombre. She could sense something was different about him, something final.

“Elias?” she called out, her voice tinged with concern and confusion.

He approached her, and she could see the pain etched into his features. But his eyes told her it wasn't a physical ache, but rather a mental one. This immediately put her on alert. Something was wrong and she needed to know what it was.

While she might be a bit bitter towards him for hiding who he really was, she also knew she couldn't hold this against him that much. He had no obligations to her, he didn't need to tell her who he truly was. But it still hurt.

“Lyra, I need to speak with you," the old man said carefully.

She gently took off the fox's head off her lap and stood up, walking closer to the god. And as much as she wanted for him to begin, she just had to get some answers. To confirm what was already revealed. She just needed to hear it from him.

"Is it true? Are you… a god?" she asked, her gaze searching his face.

Elias sighed and nodded. A soft golden light enveloped him, and Lyra, almost on reflex, looked away. The glow died down in almost an instant, and the old man she had known was replaced by a majestic figure, radiating power and divinity.

His eyes, a deep and piercing blue, looked into hers with a mix of sorrow and affection. In that moment, she realized how much Heron resembled Zeus.

Of course, the young man shared many features with his mother too, like his hair and skin tone, but the facial features... the similarity was undeniable—the same determined jawline, the same intense eyes... they even shared the same nose shape.

Lyra's breath caught in her throat as she took in his true form.

"You really are a god," she whispered, the reality settling in.

"Yes," Zeus confirmed. "I have tried to protect you and Heron in the only way I could."

“Does he know?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper and the god nodded, his expression pained.

"He does. I spoke with him just before coming here. He... doesn't want to see me again."

Lyra’s heart ached for both her best friend, for the pain and confusion he must be feeling, and Zeus.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, unsure of what else to say.

The god's eyes softened as he looked at her. He shook his head slightly.

"It's not your fault, Lyra. He has every right to be angry. But I wanted to see you before I left."

"You're leaving?" Lyra felt a pang of sadness.

"For now,” the god nodded. “But I wanted to make sure you were alright. And to say goodbye."

She glanced down at the fox, who seemed to be watching the god of thunder intently.

“Is this the fox you mentioned?” the King of Heavens asked, his voice softening as he observed the animal.

"Yes, this is the one,” Lyra replied.

Sensing that he wouldn't reveal anything about the fox's true nature, didn't press the issue. She knew that if the fox was indeed Apollo, he would reveal himself when he wanted. After all, the gods did as they pleased and she was only a human - she had no power to command them, nor did she want to.

Zeus knelt down, his gaze still on the fox. The animal stood in its place, its eyes following the god. Zeus only smiled at the golden fox.

“You have a remarkable companion, Lyra.”

She nodded, feeling a strange sense of pride in the fox that had been watching over her.

“He’s been with me since that day I prayed to Apollo.”

Zeus smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He stood up and faced Lyra fully.

“I came to say goodbye, as I said earlier. For now. I want to respect Heron’s wishes.”

“Will I see you again?” tears welled up in Lyra’s eyes.

The god’s expression softened again.

“I’ll pray to the Fates to let it happen. But remember, Lyra, you are strong. You have always been strong. And you are never truly alone. The gods watch over you, even if it doesn’t always seem that way.”

Lyra nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Thank you, Elias. Or, Zeus. For everything.”

Zeus reached out and gently cupped her face, his touch warm and reassuring.

“Take care of Heron. He needs you, now more than ever."

"I will," she promised, her voice choked with emotion.

Zeus gave her a final, lingering look before his form shimmered and he disappeared, leaving Lyra standing alone in the forest with the fox by her side. She felt a tear slide down her cheek, but she wiped it away, taking a deep breath.

The fox nuzzled her hand again, and she looked down at it, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. She knew that, despite everything, she wasn't alone.

As the last light of day faded, she turned to the animal beside her.

"Will you walk me home?” she whispered. “I should be getting back."

The fox seemed to nod, its golden eyes reflecting the fading sunlight. Lyra smiled softly and began to walk, the fox padding silently by her side.

They hadn't gone far when a rustling sound caught Lyra's attention. She looked up to see Alexia stumbling out of the woods, her face pale and eyes wide. Close behind her, Ismene limped out of the bushes.

Lyra’s eyes widened when she saw a long, bloody gash across the black-haired woman’s leg, and the painful scowl she wore on her face.

The huntress froze, unable to make another move as she looked between the two, her mind unable to process what exactly she was seeing. She didn’t even had a chance to, as Alexia yelled out.

“Run!” the blonde ordered her, before she even reached Lyra.

Before she could reply, or ask why, three loud, menacing barks echoed through the trees. Her heart pounded as Alexia tugged at her arm, urging her to flee.

"We have to go, now!"

Panic surged through Lyra, and without a second thought, she took off, her feet pounding the forest floor.

Glancing around, she noticed that the fox had vanished. Fear gripped her, but there was no time to think about it as she focused on keeping up with Alexia. Ismene, surprisingly, was doing really well with matching their pace, despite the deep gash on her leg.

The rustling behind them grew louder, and the barks turned into snarls, sending chills down her spine.

"Where are we going?" Lyra shouted over the noise of their frantic footsteps.

“No time for questions, now!” Ismene sneered. “You can ask once we reach somewhere safe.”

"There's a safe spot up ahead!" Alexia yelled back, not slowing her pace. "We can hide there!"

The trees whipped past them in a blur, and Lyra could feel her strength waning. Just as she thought she couldn't run any longer, Alexia veered off the path, pulling Lyra into a dense thicket. Ismene jumped in right behind them.

They ducked under the low branches and pressed themselves against the rough bark of a large tree, trying to catch their breath. The black-haired woman used that moment to look at her wound.

She let out a frustrated breath as she examined it, then quickly untied a small patch of material from her arm and tied it around her leg instead. Barely biting down a pained grunt, she tightened it as much as possible to slow down the bleeding.

The barks drew nearer, and Lyra's heart raced as she strained to hear any signs of their pursuers. She silently prayed to any god who might be listening for protection.

Suddenly, the barks ceased, replaced by eerie silence. Lyra held her breath, her body tense with anticipation. She exchanged a worried glance with Alexia, who was equally on edge. Meanwhile, Ismene closed her eyes and simply listened.

These few seconds felt like minutes as they waited, but no further sounds came. Slowly, Lyra dared to peek around the tree. The forest seemed empty, but the danger still felt palpable.

"Do you think they're gone?" Lyra whispered, her voice trembling.

"I'm not sure," Alexia replied, as she also peaked her head out.

But as the Fates would have it, there was suddenly a loud bark, just a few feet away from them, much to close for either of their liking.

“Of course this damn beast has to be right above us,” Ismene grumbled.

Still, without a moment of hesitation, the three took off, knowing they would be noticed in the matter of seconds either way. Especially with how close the beast truly was.

As they burst out of the forest, they nearly collided with saw a figure in the distance, which Lyra quickly recognized as Heron.

“Run!” Alexia screamed, her voice edged with desperation, but she didn’t stop.

The man caught her when she stumbled and helped her steady herself. Lyra, surprisingly, was doing better than the Grand Archon, but she guessed it was probably because of the lack of armour.

However, Ismene was also doing great, despite having an armour and being injured.

Before he could ask what was happening, the sound of heavy rustling grew closer, and a sound of growling rippled through the air.

Soon enough, they saw a massive, shadowy beast leap out from the bushes, eyes gleaming with malevolent intent. Lyra barely had time to react as Alexia grabbed both her and Heron, yanking them forward.

Zeus arrived at Apollo's sanctuary, the sun-drenched temple adorned with golden light and rich tapestries depicting the sun god’s many exploits. Apollo, lounging casually on a chaise with his lyre in hand, looked up and smiled as his father entered.

“Father, what brings you here today?” Apollo asked, his fingers still idly plucking at the lyre strings, filling the air with a soft melody.

“Can’t a father visit his son without some reason?” Zeus settled himself into a nearby seat, his expression one of relaxed amusement.

The younger god chuckled, setting his lyre aside.

“Of course, but you usually have a reason.”

"Details, details," his father waved a hand dismissively. "I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something—or rather, someone."

Apollo’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a slightly guarded expression.

"And who might that be?"

"Lyra," Zeus said, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

The sun god’s expression remained nonchalant, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes.

“Lyra? She’s just a mortal girl, nothing extraordinary.”

“Is that so?” the god of thunder arched an eyebrow. “Don’t play coy with me, Apollo. I know you better than that.”

“Alright, alright,” his son sighed, leaning back. “Fine. It started with a prayer she made during a hunt. She was exhausted and frustrated, and she called out to me in a rather… bold manner. I found it amusing and decided to keep an eye on her. It isn't often that mortals speak to us in the way she did.”

Zeus leaned in, listening intently as Apollo continued.

“I’ve visited her a few times since then,” the younger god admitted. “In the form of a golden-haired fox, like you saw today. She’s spoken to me, though she doesn’t know for sure who I am. But she’s incredibly observant and seems to know more than she lets on. She has a way of seeing things that others miss.”

“Lyra is indeed remarkable,” Zeus nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. “She’s always been more than she appears, than she gives herself credit for. You need to be careful, Apollo. You know what happens to most mortals who meddle with us. If you're not cautious, she's going to find out more than you'll want her to.”

“What do you mean?” his son frowned.

“She’s not just another mortal. She’s connected to events and people in ways even I don't fully understand yet. She’s also knowledgeable and observant, traits that can be both a blessing and a curse.”

“I’ve seen that in her,” Apollo nodded.

“Just remember, she’s a part of our world now, in a way. You need to be mindful of that.”

“I can see why you’re concerned about her," the younger god said quietly after a moment of silence.

"Indeed," Zeus agreed. "But before we discuss her further, I need you to swear something to me."

His son tilted his head, intrigued.

"What is it?"

"Swear to me that you won’t tell Hera about my time among the humans," the older god said, his voice firm.

While his son might have known about Zeus' time among humans all those years ago, the thunder god never told anyone about visiting his demigod son and mortal lover. And while he hoped it would remain that way, the Fates seemed to have other plans.

Apollo chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"I didn’t tell her all those years ago, why should I tell her now?" he smirked, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Good,” Zeus gave a nod of approval. “Now, about Lyra. What do you make of her?"

Apollo’s eyes softened as he thought of her.

"She’s remarkable. There’s a wisdom to her that belies her years, and a kindness that is rare. She’s had a difficult life, but it hasn’t hardened her heart."

Zeus relaxed slightly, a small smile playing at his lips.

“She’s remarkable, isn’t she?”

“She is. She treats everyone with kindness, even when they don’t deserve it. Her bond with her siblings and Heron is especially strong.”

“Be careful with her,” Zeus said suddenly, his tone carrying a hint of concern. “Most mortals who catch the eye of the gods end up meeting a tragic end.”

“Not all, Father. There are exceptions,” Apollo gave a small, dismissive chuckle. “Take Hyacinth, for instance. You remember him, right? He was a mortal prince, who caught my eye and was eventually turned into a god.”

“Hyacinth’s transformation was far from a happy ending,” his father’s brow furrowed, and he leaned forward. “Struck by a disc you threw, after Zephyr altered its path. His death was not just tragic—it was a result of divine conflict and manipulation.”

The younger god opened his mouth, but Zeus continued, cutting him off.

“And even after he was granted divinity, it still didn't work out.”

His son’s expression darkened momentarily, the old pain of Hyacinth’s choice still a tender spot. Although, he didn’t blame his former lover for this one bit. It took some time, but he got over it and now, even though they don't talk much, they were back on neutral terms.

“I remember. Zephyr’s jealousy and deceit turned a tragedy into a manipulation of Hyacinth’s memories of that day, into believing I was solely responsible for his death. It was a bitter twist. But that was a long time ago.”

Apollo sighed, meeting his father's gaze with a mixture of determination and defiance.

“Okay, this might’ve not been the best example, but it doesn’t mean every mortal’s story must end in a similar manner. Remember Psyche? She faced great trials but eventually became a goddess after marrying Eros.”

“Yes, but don’t forget the trials she endured to reach that point,” Zeus pointed out. “Those trials were gruelling and nearly broke her. It was far from an easy ascent. Mortals don’t always survive such ordeals.”

“I know,” his son replied, a flicker of doubt crossing his features before it was replaced by resolve. “But I believe Lyra's observant nature and resilience might protect her, even in the face of divine interference. I’m aware of the risks, Father, but my curiosity outweighs my fear.”

Zeus nodded, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

“Your curiosity is your strength, but it can also be your downfall. Keep your wits about you, Apollo. While you seek to understand her, remember the challenges and dangers that might come with it.”

“I will be cautious, Father. But for now, I want to see where her path leads and how she navigates the divine and mortal worlds. Even though I am the god of prophecy, Lyra’s future is clouded and full of inconsistency. I cannot foresee what awaits her. It’s as if the Fates themselves are undecided.”

Zeus placed a reassuring hand on Apollo’s shoulder.

“Just remember, Apollo, you are bound by the same rules as any other deity. Your involvement in her life will have consequences, both for you and for her. Tread carefully. The attention of the gods can be a double-edged sword.”

“I know,” Apollo nodded. “I will tread carefully and observe. Lyra’s story is one I want to witness unfold.”

"She’s lucky to have you watching over her,” Zeus smiled, a rare, genuine smile.

"And you," his son replied. "Even if she doesn’t know it."

"Take care of her, Apollo,” the god of thunder rose to his feet. “She’s important."

"I will," the younger god promised, watching as his father turned and walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts once more.

Chapter Text

After a long and frantic run, Alexia, Ismene, Heron, and Lyra finally reached the first house – Heron's house.

Exhausted but alert, they scanned the surroundings. All four of them immediately noticed something was off. Lyra noticed a bow was propped up against the wall, and without hesitation, she grabbed it.

Heron had already secured one of the spare bows they hid in the forest over the years. Looking back on it now, it was a great idea. It was now strapped to his back, along with a quiver full of arrows.

"Mother?" he called out, his voice tinged with urgency as he looked inside of his house. "Mother?"

Ismene used that moment to readjust the material she had tied around her leg. Gritting her teeth, she pit down any pained sounds that tried to leave her, instead angrily rewrapping the wound.

Meanwhile, there was no answer to the man's calls. Heron turned to the three women, but before he could voice his concern, a loud growl echoed through the air. They all turned around, just in time to see the beast running down the mountain.

Lyra's eyes widened as she took in the sight of the creature. It looked like a three-headed dog. Her thoughts immediately went to Cerberus, the guardian of the Underworld, but according to the stories, he didn't leave his post. So, it couldn't be him.

Her musings were interrupted when Alexia shoved her and Heron to the side. The blonde warrior pulled out her swords just as the beast leaped toward them, landing exactly where they had been standing moments before.

She slashed at the creature, her blades leaving a few cuts, but the wounds barely seemed to faze it. The beast barely acknowledged them, its three heads snapping and snarling.

Beside her, Ismene was already on her feet, moving with the fluidity of a seasoned fighter. She had no time for hesitation, nor did she show any sign of slowing down. She spun her blade rings through the air, but it also seemed to have little effect.

Without thinking, Heron and Lyra readied their bows and took their shots. Their arrows flew true, embedding themselves into one of the creature's necks.

This seemed to catch its attention, as the beast whimpered and whirled around to face the two archers.

The three-headed dog charged at them, and they started to run, but they only managed a few steps before they were thrown off their feet by the force of the beast's attack, which shattered a tree.

Lyra quickly rolled to her feet, her bow ready and an arrow nocked. As she took aim, Alexia leaped onto the creature's back, stabbing her swords deep into its side and hind leg. The beast let out a howl of pain and collapsed onto its side.

Meanwhile, Ismene helped Heron, who was still slightly dazed from the hit to his feet.

"Are you trying to get yourselves killed?" she snapped, once he stood on his own.

But he paid her no mind, as he saw his chance and quickly grabbed a piece of broken wood from the ground. Ignoring Ismene's curses and warnings, he ran toward the three-headed dog and, with a yell, drove the wood into one of its heads. The head let out a low whine and went limp, dead.

The other two heads quickly recovered and growled at Heron, making him back away. Ismene pulled him back by the elbow, holding out her blade ring in front of them, almost as if it would scare off the beast.

"You really do have a death wish," she hissed, but kept her eyes on the three-headed dog.

The four of them slowly backed further away from the beast, watching it carefully. Alexia and Ismene stood at the front, acting like a barrier between the beast and the two non-warriors. The creature instead turned its attention to its fallen head.

"Where are your men?" Heron finally asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"Dead," Alexia breathed out.

Suddenly, Lyra felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, the one people usually get when they're being watched. This time was no different. As she looked around, she saw countless red eyes glowing in the darkness, each pair fixated on the three of them. A chill ran down her spine.

"They cannot have this," Alexia sighed.

"We need to move. Now!"

Realizing the imminent danger, they all took off again, running as fast as their legs could carry them. They sprinted down the hill, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they pushed their bodies to their limits.

The beast's growls and the shrill cries of the demons pursued them relentlessly, each sound echoing in the still night air. The red eyes that had previously fixed upon them were now joined by the distant howls of more demonic creatures. They had no time to waste.

"We need to get to the polis and warn the others, get them to safety quickly!" Alexia shouted over her shoulder, her voice barely audible over the cacophony of chaos.

"There's a mine that cuts through the mountain," Heron suggested. "It's the fastest way to create distance between them and us."

"The one past northwest gates?" Lyra asked.

"Yes. I've mined there for years. I know them well."

"Then we need to get everyone to the northwest gate and guide them towards the mines," Alexia declared. "The more organized the evacuation, the better chance we have."

"Sounds good, but first, we need to lose our tail!" Ismene huffed.

Heron took a moment to make a quick decision. He reached into his quiver and nocked an arrow, aiming at a cluster of large boulders he had set up in different places earlier. The boulders had been intended for a different purpose, but now they should be enough to buy them some time.

The man shot the arrow with precise aim, striking the makeshift supporting beams of the trap he had set up. The wood splintered and gave way, causing the boulders to topple down the slope. The resulting landslide tumbled down, crashing into the pursuing demons with a thunderous roar.

The rocks and debris created a massive barrier, momentarily stopping the creatures and buying the trio some much-needed time. They knew that sooner, rather than later, the demons would get through, but it was still more time than previously.

"Nice work, Heron," Lyra shouted as they continued to sprint towards the polis.

"But we can't rely on that to keep them away for long. We need to act fast."

That night was the first time Lyra ever saw the clear sky over the polis. The dark clouds that , according to Electra's story, Zeus put there suddenly vanished, revealing a sky full of stars. She knew this couldn't mean anything good.

When the four of them finally got to the polis, it was already mostly empty. Only few people were still around. As soon as they passed the gates, two men pushed them closed.

"Archon Alexia," a man called out, as soon as he noticed them. "What happened?"

He made it a point, not to acknowledge Lyra or Heron, only giving them a dirty look. Ismene, on the other hand, got a respectful nod from him, but other than that, he didn't address her.

"We have to evacuate the polis," the blonde declared. "Heron said there's a mine that leads through the mountain."

"It's just past the northwest gate. I've mined it for years," the said man added.

"I don't take orders from bastards," the old man raised his chin, looking down at Heron.

Ismene raised a brow, looking between the two men. It was almost as if she was interested how this would go down. However, Lyra was having none of that.

"Even now, when we're trying to save your asses, you still couldn't care less to listen?" she snapped. "Fine, then. Be my guest. But don't be surprised, when this whole polis is dead. And it will be your fault, because you only ever look at someone's status."

The man glared at her, and took a step forward, opening his mouth, but Ismene cut in, her own glare matching the old man's.

"Just do as they says," she ordered, then pushed past him.

"Come on. Let's go," Alexia followed after her.

"I'll catch up to you," Heron told her. "I have to find my mother."

"I also need to make sure my family's safe," Lyra said.

"But-" the blonde started, but Ismene cut her off.

"Oh, let them go," the black-haired woman rolled her eyes, then glanced at the two. "Just make sure you're out of their way, once they get here. They'll kill you before you even realise they moved."

The two shared a look and looking back towards the other duo, they gave them a now.

With that, Lyra and Heron took off through the polis, their hearts pounding with a mix of fear and determination. The streets were eerily quiet, the usual bustle of the polis replaced by an ominous silence.

Lyra's eyes scanned the surroundings desperately. She knew her family must have gone to a safe place, but she needed to see them, to ensure they were okay. She called out their names as they ran, hoping for any sign of them.

"Mother? Theo! Alex! Calli! Maris?" Lyra's voice echoed through the empty streets, but there was no response.

Heron was similarly frantic, calling out for his mother.

They ran around the market place, but there was no trace of anyone. Lyra's heart sank as she saw the familiar spaces deserted. Her mind raced with worry. Where could they be?

What was even more disturbing for her, was the fact that there was always someone on the market place, even if it was just a drunk, who lost his way home. But now, not even an old man, she always saw passed out somewhere in the streets was around. This was so unusual, almost unnatural.

"They must have gone with the others," Heron said, trying to reassure her as much as himself.

Lyra nodded, but her eyes were still wide with worry.

"We have to keep looking. We can't leave without knowing for sure."

They moved between the streets and walking between the buildings, calling out and searching for any sign of their families. The night was growing colder, and the clear sky offered no comfort. Especially with the knowledge of what was coming.

Finally, they reached the centre of the marketplace. It, too, was deserted. Just then, when Lyra was about to give up the idea of searching for them in the polis, a faint noise caught her attention. She turned and saw a shadowy figure moving through the alleyway. Her heart leaped with hope.

"Wait!" she called out, running towards the figure.

As she got closer, she recognized the person. It was Alexander, her youngest brother. He looked scared and confused, but unharmed.

"Alex!" Lyra cried, scooping him up into her arms. "Where are the others? Have you seen any of them?"

The small boy pointed towards the outskirts of the polis.

"They went with the other people. Mama and papa wanted to leave you behind, but I told them I wouldn't go without you, so they left without me."

Relief and anger washed over Lyra. Relief, because it seemed like her family was alright, and anger, that they would leave not only the five-year-old child alone, but also in the place that was about to be attacked.

"Thank the gods you're alright," she breathed, pulling the boy closer, then turning to Heron, who had been watching with hopeful eyes. "They're safe. They went with the others."

Heron's tense expression softened slightly.

"Good. Now we just need to find my mother."

Alexander refused to let go, clinging to his sister for dear life, as if he was afraid that she would leave him behind too. Sighing softly, she picked him up and the boy wrapped both his arms and legs around her, pushing his head into the crook of her neck, settling against her comfortably. Once it was done, she gave Heron a nod.

"We'll find her, Heron. We won't leave until we know she's out of here."

They continued their search, the small ray of hope driving them forward.

"Mother? Mother! Mother? Electra!" Heron continued to call out.

As they continued to run, the man suddenly stopped and pushed Lyra back, making her stumble, but she caught herself just in time, before she could fall.

The man was thrown back, as something embedded into the ground before them. Alexander cried out, pulling himself even closer to his older sister, and she put an arm around him, to help him hide himself better.

When the dust finally disappeared, they saw a golden weapon, which she quickly realised was a bident, embedded deep into the stone. It was covered by a dark substance, with something red spreading over it, looking like veins. Lyra immediately was reminded of the skin of the demon, that was burned just the day earlier.

Heron looked behind them, and far in the distance, on a mountain overlooking the polis, he saw a vague silhouette. It looked like a man sitting on some sort of winged creature.

The figure seemed to raise its hand, and before anyone could react, the golden weapon flew out of the hole it created, and sailed through the air, making a deep cut on Heron's arm, then continuing towards the figure in the distance.

Both Heron and Alexander let out a surprised cry.

"Heron!" Lyra gasped, taking a step towards him.

"No! Stay back!" he warned her.

He quickly notched an arrow, but hesitated, before letting it fly. It almost struck its target, but the figure moved just when arrow was about to hit them. They threw their bident again, the force of impact with which it embedded into the ground, sending Heron flying across the road.

Then, the figure took off into the air and when they got closer, Lyra could finally tell what it was. And she didn't like it one bit. The man, who sat on top of a manticore, looked just like the demons they were warned against.

Heron gritted his teeth and took aim again, but instead of letting the arrow fly, he froze again. Then, he shook his head and released a small series of arrows.

Lyra gasped when she saw the way man simply raised his arm and they all broke when they hit his forearm, before throwing his golden weapon again.

She wanted nothing more than to help her best friend, but she couldn't do it with her younger brother clinging onto her. And she didn't want to leave him alone to join the fight, but she also couldn't leave Heron behind and run away with Alexander. So, she was stuck on watching from the sideways.

Then, the bident once again flew up from its place, flying towards Heron. Just as Lyra was about to call out and warn him, he jumped to the side. The blade still grazed his back, creating another cut, but at least it didn't impale him like she thought it was going to.

Finally, Heron seemed to notice he couldn't win this fight and instead of firing another arrow, he put it back in his quiver and turned to look at Lyra and Alexander.

"Run," was all he said, before taking off.

Without hesitation, the woman followed after him.

As they ran, the man Heron fought with earlier followed and threw his weapon at them a few times, hitting much closer than Lyra would like it, but it never hit them.

When Lyra suddenly stumbled and fell to the side, the man in pursuit didn't even spare her a glance, instead continuing to go after Heron. Her best friend ducked a few more times, before he hit a stand, where they sold barrels full of oil.

Turning a few of them over, Heron looked towards Lyra and saw her hiding with hysteric Alexander behind a stand near him.

"Run as fast as you can," he mouthed. "You need to get as far away as you can."

She didn't need to be told twice. Scooping up the crying child, she made a quick countdown and took off. Without looking back, she ran as fast as she could. Soon enough, she felt a whiff of wind and heard an explosion behind them. she pushed herself not to stop and turn around, instead running even faster.

She got to the gates first. There, a man in green robe, she vaguely recognized as one of the merchants, was standing beside a rope, that held up the gate. She ran out with a small crowd od people, then stopped just behind the gate.

Seconds later, when the last person crossed the walls, the merchant turned to the rope.

"Wait!" both Lyra and Heron called out.

"We're not waiting for you," the man declared, and went to take a swing.

Lyra quickly jumped to his side and caught his arm when he went to cut the rope.

"I think not," she glared at him and punched the man.

He stumbled back, holding his nose and cursing under his breath. Luckily for her, she achieved her goal as he dropped his sword. She quickly picked it up and pointed it towards the man, who glared at her with pure hatred.

Just then, Heron reached them. The merchant looked between the two of them, before he took off running.

Lyra sighed, then used the sword to cut the rope. When she took the first swing, she scoffed. This man was a fool. His sword was even duller than the wooden swords her younger brothers used during their play fights.

It took her about three good swings, before she had enough and quickly took out her own knife and quickly cut through the rope. This took only one swing.

As Electra moved through the crowd of panicked people, her eyes scanned the faces, looking for Heron. But all she saw was countless people running away, not caring if they ran over someone on their way.

The situation was chaotic, and the frightened cries of children mingled with the shouts of adults as they all tried to get as far away from the polis as they could. She called her son's name repeatedly, but the noise around her drowned out her voice.

Suddenly, a small, familiar figure caught her eye. A little girl, alone and scared, was huddled near the edge of the crowd. Electra's heart skipped a beat as she recognized Callista, one of Lyra's younger siblings.

"Callista!" the woman called, rushing over to her. "Sweetheart, what are you doing here all alone?"

Callista looked up, tears streaking her cheeks.

"I lost everyone," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can't find them. I went with my papa- mama, Theo and Maris went somewhere else- I don't know where Alex or Lyra are-"

Each sentence that tried to pass her lips was interrupted by a sob, as she looked around with wide, teary eyes.

"It's alright, darling, shh," Electra said gently, scooping the child into her arms, to which the girl responded by immediately burying her face into the woman's neck. "I can help you. Let's find your family together, okay?"

Callista nodded, clinging tightly to Electra as they navigated through the throng of people. As they made their way through the throng of people, the woman did her best to reassure the little girl, speaking in a soothing tone and holding her close.

When they finally reached the shelter, the woman set the girl down and knelt in front of her.

"Let's find your papa," Electra said gently, guiding Callista through the crowd.

After a few moments of searching, they found Marcus standing near the entrance, his stern face a mix of anger and relief. As soon as he saw his daughter, he stormed over, his eyes blazing.

"Where have you been?" he barked, grabbing the girl by the arm. "I told you to stay with me! You never listen!"

She flinched, tears welling up in her eyes again.

"I'm sorry, Papa. I got lost..."

"That's no excuse!" the man snapped, shaking her arm. "You should have followed me! How could you be so careless?"

Callista flinched, her small body trembling. Electra stepped between them, her eyes blazing.

"Marcus, she's just a child. In this chaos, it's natural for a child to get lost. It's the parents' responsibility to make sure their children are with them, not the other way around."

"I don't need a lecture from you, Electra," Marcus's jaw tightened.

"Well, you're getting one," the woman shot back, her voice firm. "She's five years old, Marcus! It's not her responsibility to look after herself; it's yours! You're her father, and it's your job to protect her, especially in a situation like this. Callista is scared and needs reassurance, not scolding."

The man's face twisted with anger, but he released Callista's arm. The little girl immediately moved to stand behind Electra, seeking protection from her father's wrath.

"You think you can tell me how to raise my children?" he spat. "You're no better than anyone else here."

"I may not be perfect," Electra replied, her voice calm but unwavering, "But I know that a parent's duty is to protect their children, not to berate them for being afraid."

Marcus opened his mouth to retort, but Electra held up a hand to stop him.

"If you can't understand that, then maybe you should reconsider your priorities as a parent," then, she turned to Callista, her expression softening. "Callista, stay with me for now, alright? We'll find your sister and brother soon."

The girl nodded, clinging to Electra's skirts but feeling a bit more secure with Electra standing up for her. Marcus muttered something under his breath but turned away, clearly unwilling to continue the argument.

"Thank you, Miss Electra," Callista whispered, looking back at her with grateful eyes.

Electra looked down at Callista, giving her a reassuring smile.

"You're safe now, my dear. Let's stay close and wait for Lyra and the others."

Apollo stood in the ethereal realm, a silent witness to the unfolding chaos below. His gaze was fixed on the polis, where the turmoil of the attack raged with fierce intensity. The smoke and flames rising from the once-bustling city painted a grim picture.

He had seen this coming, foreseen the destruction and despair that would descend upon the city. Yet, even with the knowledge of prophecy, watching the events unfold was still painful. The scenes below were a reminder of the fragile nature of mortal lives, how quickly hope could turn to ashes.

His gaze flickered towards the north gate, where he saw Heron and Lyra searching desperately for their families amidst the chaos. They had already found her younger brother, who now clung to the woman and refused to let go. Apollo's heart ached for them, particularly for Lyra.

As he observed, a cold shiver ran through him. He could feel something shift in the fabric of fate. It was a subtle but unmistakable signal—death was approaching. It was not just any death, but one that carried great significance, a pivotal moment that could alter the course of many lives.

The air around him grew heavier, charged with the weight of impending loss. The divine sense of foreboding that came with his powers was more pronounced than usual, and it disturbed him deeply.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Artemis approaching, her presence a calming counterpoint to the turbulence below. Her usual poise and grace was tempered by a hint of concern.

She had always been perceptive, able to sense the subtle nuances of the world, and tonight was no different.

"Apollo," she greeted him, her voice gentle yet firm. "I've noticed you've been watching the mortals more intently. You're invested in this more than usual. Is everything alright?"

Apollo nodded, his gaze never leaving the tumultuous scene.

"There's one mortal in particular who has caught my attention. She's in the middle of this," he nodded his head towards the sight below. "Her name is Lyra."

"Lyra," Artemis raised an eyebrow. "What makes her so special?"

Her brother's eyes were fixed on the said woman, who was now guiding her younger brother, Alexander, through the wreckage. The determination on her face, the way she fought to protect her family despite the chaos, resonated with him on a deeper level.

"It's hard to pinpoint," he admitted, with a small shrug. "There's something about her that has drawn me in."

"It's been a while since you became emotionally invested in a mortal. What else have you observed?"

"I fear for what awaits her. I sensed a shift just moments ago. It's as though something significant has happened or is about to happen. The sense of foreboding is strong, and it feels like it's tied to Lyra," he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Something strongly suggests that a divine hand may have interfered in a way that was not entirely expected, even by the Fates."

"A divine intervention? You're suggesting that something beyond mere mortal actions is at play?"

"Yes," Apollo replied, his voice heavy with concern. "It's as if the threads of fate have been tangled by a force that isn't entirely mortal."

"You've always been one to avoid direct intervention, preferring to let mortals shape their own destinies," Artemis frowned. "Yet, it seems this situation is different."

"I've always believed in allowing mortals their free will, but this is different. It's not just the polis being attacked—it's something more personal, something that seems to revolve around Lyra."

"And you think this shift is linked to the death you sense?" the goddess of the hunt studied her brother's profile, the concern evident in her eyes.

"Yes," Apollo replied. "From the flashes I saw, they point to an important death, one that could have a profound impact. I can't yet see the full picture, but I feel its weight. It's unsettling."

Artemis studied him closely, her eyes reflecting the starlight of the divine realm.

"You care deeply about her. What is it that you fear?"

"I fear for her safety and the impact this may have on her future," her brother admitted, his voice filled with an uncharacteristic vulnerability. "The signs point to a significant loss, and I can't help but feel that her involvement in these events is not a mere coincidence. There's a part of me that wishes to intervene, to protect her from the harsh realities that seem to be closing in."

The goddess' gaze softened.

"While I see and understand your concern, I want you to remember, even gods must navigate the delicate balance between intervention and respect for mortal autonomy. Sometimes, the best way to support them is to ensure they have the strength to face their trials."

Before he could respond, a call echoed through the air, the voice of Hera reaching them with an imperious tone.

"Apollo, Artemis, I require your presence immediately."

The god sighed, his gaze lingering on the chaos below for a moment longer. Reluctance weighted down on him heavily, but he slowly turned around and faced his twin. While both of them were not found of their step-mother, they had to listen to her, as she was also their Queen.

"We should go. Hera's call is not one to ignore."

Artemis nodded, casting a final, concerned look at the polis.

"We'll talk more about this later."

With a final, reluctant glance at the turmoil below, Apollo followed Artemis as they descended to meet Hera.

Chapter Text

The tension was palpable, each person praying that the nightmarish events outside would pass them by.

Electra, Callista, and the other survivors huddled in the small, cramped shelter, trying to keep their voices down as the sounds of the attacking forces echoed ominously around them.

The once comforting darkness now felt like an enclosing shroud, amplifying every sound and shadow.

Electra's heart raced as she paced the small room, her mind darting between worry for her son, Heron, and the safety of the people around her. Callista clung to her side, her small frame trembling with fear.

A loud, guttural growl erupted from outside, making everyone freeze, sending a shiver down their spines. The sound was followed by a series of guttural barks that reverberated through the walls of the shelter.

A collective gasp erupted from the people inside as they realized what was coming. The growls and barks grew louder, a sinister promise of what lay beyond the shelter's flimsy walls.

Electra peered through a crack in the wall, her eyes straining to see what was happening outside. The darkness was punctuated by the eerie red glow of eyes peering in from the cracks.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the massive form of the two-headed dog that she saw earlier. It wasn't until that moment, that she realized it was actually three-headed beats, but one of its heads was missing.

The noise of the creature's approach was met with panic. The people inside exchanged frantic glances, their hope waning as the reality of their predicament sank in.

The door was kicked open with a resounding crash. The people's cries of terror reached a crescendo. In the midst of the chaos, a figure stepped through the broken door, commanding instant silence.

The demon before them, looked around the small hut, his eyes quickly scanning the faces of people. Electra guessed this was their commander, as his presence alone was enough to quell any further resistance. The air grew colder, and the oppressive darkness seemed to tighten around them.

The demons surrounded the shelter, their forms visible only as shadows moving in and out of the light cast by the few torches scattered around.

The remaining head of the beast barked and growled, its fierce eyes scanning the terrified crowd. It was clear that they had been cornered, and their fate was now in the hands of their attackers.

Callista clung tighter to Electra, her small hands gripping her skirt. The woman looked down at her, her heart breaking at the sight of the child's fear. She made a silent vow to protect her, no matter what the cost.

The leader of the demons raised a hand, and the demons advanced, pushing the survivors out of the shelter and into the open.

The people were herded together, their movements chaotic as they struggled to comprehend their dire situation.

"People of this polis," the demon leader's voice boomed, "I am Seraphim. I seek the Grand Archon Alexia, the Amazonian, and her travel companion, a warrior named Ismene. If you do not tell me where they are, you will suffer the consequences."

The people exchanged fearful glances, none of them having even the slightest idea of Alexia or Ismene's whereabouts only heightening their terror.

When no immediate answer came, Seraphim gestured to one of the demons, who grabbed a man from the crowd and brutally killed him. Screams and cries erupted from the group as the demons continued their cruel task.

Electra tightened her grip on Callista, trying to shield her from the horror. She could feel the little girl's body trembling against her. She whispered calming words, but her own fear was difficult to mask.

Seraphim's gaze swept over the crowd and landed on Electra, who was attempting to hide Callista from view. His target piqued, he strode over and grabbed Electra by the arm, yanking her away from the child.

"Trying to protect the little one, are we?" Seraphim sneered, throwing Electra to the ground with a violent shove.

She landed hard, wincing as pain shot through her back and arms, when she caught herself. Callista whimpered and tried to reach for her, but a sharp glare from Seraphim kept the child frozen in place.

"Tell me, woman," Seraphim demanded, his voice a low growl. "Where are they?"

Zeus watched the scene unfold from the heavens, his heart heavy with anger and sorrow.

The sight of Seraphim terrorizing the people, particularly Electra and little Callista, stirred a fierce protective instinct within him. His hand tightened around his thunderbolt, ready to intervene and save them from their plight.

He could almost feel the electricity coursing through his veins, a tangible representation of his growing fury. But just as he was about to unleash his divine power, his wife's voice cut through the air like a knife.

"Don't," the single word halted him in his tracks.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Artemis, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Apollo, Ares, and Demeter walking toward him, Hera landing at the forefront of the small group. Their presence was like a suffocating blanket, pressing down on his rage.

"Her life is in the hands of the Fates," his wife reminded him, a cruel smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "Or had you forgotten?"

Zeus looked between the seven gods, his mouth slightly agape.

It wasn't possible for all of them to know what was happening, as he knew for sure that at least half of the gods gathered couldn't care less about the mortals. And yet, there they all were, a witness to him almost breaking an ancient law he had set himself.

"What is this?" he asked, gritting his teeth, his voice low, a dangerous rumble that mirrored the storm within him.

"How do you expect us to obey when you don't?" Hera asked, her tone a mix of challenge and mockery.

"I don't expect anything. I demand it," he sneered, the power of his voice cracking the air around them.

"Demand all you want, but the Pantheon can't exist without law. It's greater than even you," she declared. Her voice was like iron, unyielding and unmerciful. "Without it, there's chaos."

Zeus' eyes sparked and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, the heavens mirroring his tumultuous emotions.

"Then let there be chaos!" he roared, whirling around with a bolt of lightning in his hand, ready to strike.

Poseidon caught his hand, stopping him. The god of thunder panted, his chest heaving with barely contained rage as he glared at his older brother. Poseidon's grip was unyielding, his expression a mix of determination and disappointment.

The air crackled with tension. Apollo, standing slightly behind, could feel the weight of his father's anguish and fury.

He understood the torment Zeus felt, the helplessness of being bound by laws that prevented him from protecting those he cared about. It was a feeling Apollo knew all too well, the burden of foresight without the power to change what he saw.

Zeus yanked his hand free from Poseidon's grip.

"You take her side, brother?"

"There are no sides, only the law," his brother sneered back, his eyes hard. "No one wants bloodshed."

"Is that a threat?" Zeus' whole form sparked, the air around him shimmering with raw power.

"You said breaking the law was punishable by death!" Poseidon snapped, and the sparks dimmed on his brother's body. "What would you have us do, brother?"

The god of thunder glanced back toward the rest of the gods. His children and siblings looked at him with either indifference or anger.

The gods' weapons were gripped tightly, their hands glowing with readiness to use their powers. The unspoken threat was clear: if Zeus broke the law, he would face the full wrath of the Pantheon. The realization crashed over him, drowning his fury in a wave of bitter resignation.

Then, he looked toward Hera, who gave him a cruel smirk, her eyes glittering with triumph.

Apollo's heart ached for his father, understanding the torment of being unable to act.

Yet, he knew the consequences of defying the laws they were bound by. He could see the pain etched into Zeus' features, the internal struggle tearing him apart.

"Where is she? Where is Alexia?" the demon's eyes bored into Electra's, cold and merciless.

She could see the malice etched into every line of his face, and the very sight of him made her blood run cold.

"I don't know," she said, her voice slightly breaking due to the fear clawing at her insides.

"Then how would you explain this?"

Seraphim stepped closer to her and leaned forward, almost pressing a green fabric in her face. This was the first time she's seen this piece of clothing, but it seemed like demon had different opinion.

"I can't," the woman whispered, looking back at the demon.

He straightened back to his full height, towering over her. Electra let out a whimper, backing away from him when he gripped his bident and pointed it towards her throat.

Before Seraphim could respond, a woman from the crowd stepped forward.

"She's telling the truth," she said, her voice trembling.

Seraphim's eyes flicked to the woman, and with a swift motion, he impaled the woman's head with the spear-like tip of his weapon.

The woman's groan was cut short, and she hung onto the blade, her blood dripping down the handle. The crowd gasped, a collective sound of horror and disbelief. Electra's stomach churned, bile rising in her throat at the senseless violence.

"I don't remember asking you anything," Seraphim snarled, then glanced towards the crowd. "Let that be a lesson to all of you. Speak out of turn, and you will meet the same fate."

A tense silence fell over the group, broken only by the sound of Callista's quiet sobs. Electra's heart ached as she reached out a comforting hand, but Seraphim's presence made her hesitant to move too quickly.

From the back of the crowd, Marcus pushed his way forward.

"I can help you," he said, his voice firm as he addressed the leader or the demons. "I will help you find them."

Seraphim turned his gaze to the man, his interest piqued.

"And how would you do that, mortal? What makes you think you can succeed where others have failed?"

Marcus faltered for a moment, the confident façade cracking under Seraphim's intense gaze.

"I... I know the polis well. There are many possible hiding spots, where they might be hiding. I can search places others might overlook."

"You offer help, yet you come with no useful information," the demon's lip curled in a sneer. "What makes you think I should spare you?"

"I... I just thought..." the man stammered, his bravado crumbling.

Seraphim stepped closer, his eyes narrowing.

"Thought you could save yourself by offering empty promises?" Seraphim cut him off, his voice a cold hiss.

Marcus hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for an answer. The silence stretched, and the demon's patience wore thin. With a swift motion, he grabbed Marcus by the throat and lifted him off the ground.

"You dare waste my time?" Seraphim hissed, his grip tightening.

Marcus struggled, his face turning red as he clawed at the demon's hand. The crowd watched in horrified silence, helpless to intervene.

"Please!" Marcus gasped. "I—"

His plea was cut short as Seraphim's blade plunged into his chest. The life drained from Marcus's eyes, and the demon let his body fall to the ground with a dull thud. A scream tore through the air, and Callista broke free from the crowd, running towards her fallen father.

"No!" Callista cried, her small hands reaching out. "Papa!

A demon stepped forward and grabbed her, pulling her back as she kicked and screamed, desperate to reach Marcus. A demon simply kept yanking her back with a cruel laugh.

Electra's heart shattered at the sight. She lunged forward, only to be stopped by another demon, who shoved her back with a cruel laugh.

She could do nothing but watch as Callista's cries filled the air, the sound of a child's heartbreak echoing in the night.

"Please," Electra begged, her voice raw with desperation. "She's just a child."

Seraphim ignored her, his attention already shifting back to the crowd.

"Now, who else wants to try their luck? Who among you knows where the Grand Archon is?"

The silence that followed was heavy with fear and resignation. The rest of the people huddled together, their hope for salvation fading with each brutal act.

Lyra, Alexander, and Heron arrived at the edge of the clearing just as Seraphim began his ruthless questioning of Marcus.

The sight before them was harrowing – people huddled together in terror, the demonic horde surrounding them, and Seraphim, towering over Marcus with a menacing air of authority and cruelty.

Alexander clutched Lyra's hand tightly, his small body trembling with fear. Lyra's heart pounded in her chest as she took in the scene.

Her first instinct was to charge forward and protect the people, especially when she saw Electra and Callista among them. But Heron grabbed her arm, his grip firm and unyielding.

"Don't," he whispered urgently. "We can't reveal ourselves. Not yet."

Lyra struggled against him, her eyes blazing with a fierce determination.

"We can't just stand here and do nothing!" she hissed back.

"Marcus is already dead," Heron hissed, his eyes never leaving the scene. "I'm really sorry, but if we go out there now, they'll kill us. We need to make a plan, and wait for the right moment."

Lyra bit her lip, tears of frustration welling up in her eyes as she watched her father falter under Seraphim's gaze. No matter how much he hurt her, how little he cared about her, he was still her father, her family.

And when Seraphim actually struck Marcus down, the sight was too much to bear. Callista's shrill scream pierced the air, echoing the anguish Lyra felt in her heart.

Alexander's grip on her hand tightened even more, his wide eyes fixed on the fallen figure of Marcus. The little boy was frozen in place, paralyzed by fear and unable to look away from the gruesome scene unfolding before him.

Seraphim's voice cut through the air.

"Now, who else wants to try their luck? Who among you knows where the Grand Archon or her companion are?"

Lyra's mind raced as she tried to come up with a plan. She could see the hopelessness in the eyes of the people, the sheer terror etched on their faces.

Heron was right—charging in now would certainly only lead to their deaths. But she couldn't stand by and watch as more people suffered.

Seraphim's gaze landed on Electra, who was desperately trying to take the attention of the demons away from Callista.

The demon's lips curled into a cruel smile as he strode over to her, his dark presence casting a shadow over their fragile hope.

"Please," Electra's voice trembled, "She's just a child."

Seraphim ignored her plea, his hand reaching out towards Electra. Lyra's breath caught in her throat, her body tensing in preparation to spring forward. But Heron's grip on her arm tightened, his eyes pleading with her to stay hidden.

"Trust me," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of urgency and despair. "We have to wait, just a bit longer."

Lyra's heart ached with the need to act, but she nodded, forcing herself to stay still. She could feel Alexander's small body trembling beside her, his fear palpable in the air.

They saw Electra pull something from under her shirt and her lips started moving in silent prayer. Seraphim tilted his head, looking at her.

"Your prayers won't help you," he told her.

"It's not me I'm praying for," she replied, looking up at him.

He looked at her for a moment longer, before he pulled his weapon back, ready to strike.

Heron's eyes narrowed, his body coiled like a spring ready to snap. He knew they had to pick the right moment to strike, but seeing his mother in such peril was too much. The fire of resolve burned within him, and he knew he couldn't stand by any longer.

"No!" he shouted, bursting out of the tree line, before Lyra could stop him.

He didn't care he acted like a hypocrite right now, as he forbid Lyra from saving her father, and yet, he rushed without thinking to save his mother. But she was the only family he had left.

As cruel as it may sound, Lyra had her siblings and mother, if they made it out like they hoped they would. If he lost his mother, he would be left alone.

People's heads snapped towards him, as he rushed towards the leader of the demons and his mother. A few demons tried to get in his way, but just as quickly as they appeared in front of him, just as quickly he cut them down.

However, when he went to attack Seraphim, the leader was already waiting for him. He threw a punch so strong, that Heron ended up on the ground, momentarily stunned. Blood pooled in his mouth, as he fell to the ground with a groan.

This was the moment Lyra jumped into action. Staying near the line of the forest, she fired an arow, aiming for the demon, that held her sister. As soon as it landed true, the girl was free.

She didn't even wait for the body to hit the ground, before she took off, running towards her siblings. The two children crashed into each other, their cries mixing as they hugged each other tightly.

In any other situation, Lyra might've joined them, or simply watch them, but now was not the time. right now, she had to focus on the fight, especially when a few demons ran towards her.

Heron knew this was a battle they couldn't win through sheer force, but he also knew they had to give the people a chance to escape.

As much as he hated them, and knew they didn't deserve it, he didn't want to find out how he would feel if he simply let them die. Lyra had similar idea, as she turned towards the people.

"Run!" she shouted. "Now!"

Unfortunately, she was quickly overpowered and restrained, but not before she took down another three demons. Her captors forced her to the ground, her bow clattering away, and bound her hands. She struggled, her eyes darting towards Heron as he fought Seraphim.

Meanwhile, Heron continued his assault on Seraphim, his focus unwavering. They exchanged punches – or more like the man threw punches, while the demon dodged, a smirk slowly growing on his face.

"Your eyes are full of hate," he stated, when he finally caught Heron's fist and threw his own in response, knocking the air out of the man. "That's good. Hate keeps a man alive. Gives him strength."

Each sentence was punctured with a punch, and the final one knocked the man to the ground. This time, he didn't pull himself up. Heron laid there, gasping for breath, his vision blurring as pain radiated through his body.

"Heron!" Lyra screamed, struggling against the demons holding her down.

Her Alexander and Callista watched in terror, their small bodies trembling as they huddled together.

In the midst of the chaos, Electra, who had been knocked unconscious against a tree, began to stir. Her head throbbed, and her vision was blurred, but the sight of her son lying motionless on the ground fuelled her with a desperate resolve.

She tried to stand, but her legs refused to support her weight. Determined, she began to crawl towards him, each movement a battle against her own weakness.

"Heron!" she whispered, her voice hoarse and barely audible.

She dragged herself closer, her fingers digging into the dirt as she inched forward. Her heart ached with every beat, a mother's fear for her child pushing her beyond her limits.

Seraphim watched her struggle with a small, cruel smile.

"There's nothing left for you now," he whispered. "You'll become one of us, or die."

Then, the demon raised his bident, and with a calculated, almost leisurely motion, he threw it high into the air. Time seemed to slow as the weapon arced through the sky, its deadly point aimed with precision.

Electra was almost within reach of her son when the blade struck. It impaled her perfectly through the middle, pinning her to the ground. Her eyes widened in shock and pain, a choked gasp escaping her lips.

"No!" Heron's voice cracked with anguish and heartbreak, as he reached out towards her, his body too battered to move.

Lyra's own scream of anguish echoed through the clearing, her struggles renewed with frantic desperation. Not only she had lost her father, but the woman who truly cared for her, raised her like her own.

Alexander and Callista clung to each other, their young faces etched with horror.

Electra's hand trembled as she tried to reach for Heron, her strength fading rapidly. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with the dirt and blood. Her gaze locked with her son's, a silent plea for him to survive, to fight.

Heron's vision blurred with tears as he watched the light fade from his mother's eyes.

His body shook with the effort to move, but the pain was too great. He could only watch, helpless and heartbroken, as the life ebbed from her. He had failed to protect her, and now she was gone.

The echoes of Lyra and Heron's screams reached all the way up, to Olympus, cutting through the cacophony of divine confrontation like a knife.

Zeus' gaze snapped towards the scene below, his face a mask of shock and fury. The sight of Electra's death, combined with Heron and Lyra's despair, struck him like a bolt of lightning. He felt an overwhelming surge of protective anger. He clenched his fists, sparks of electricity crackling around his hands.

He felt the crushing weight of his failure, the unbearable realization that he had not intervened in time to prevent Electra's death. The knowledge that he could have altered the outcome gnawed at him, fuelling a deep-seated rage against himself and the very laws he had sworn to uphold.

The god of thunder was torn between his duty to maintain the balance of divine law and his instinct to protect those he cared for. His fists clenched at his sides, lightning crackling in his wake, his anguish palpable.

Apollo, who had been silent until now, flinched visibly at the raw pain in Lyra's voice. His face paled, and a shadow of anguish crossed his features. The sound was so raw and filled with an anguish that cut through the very fabric of his being.

His heart, usually so detached from mortal concerns, ached with an unfamiliar empathy.

He could see the mortal girl in his mind's eye, her face twisted with grief and desperation, her spirit so bright yet so tormented. His face tightened, an expression of deep sorrow and empathy crossing his features.

The god of prophecy had long been accustomed to witnessing the suffering of mortals, yet this moment... his connection to prophecy and the future had shown him glimpses of this moment, but the reality of it was far more harrowing than he had anticipated.

Still, he couldn't help the pang of relief he felt, when he realised it wasn't Lyra's death he saw earlier.

Artemis noticed her brother's reaction and cast a fleeting, sympathetic glance his way. The huntress had always been attuned to the pain of others, but she remained silent.

The other gods, Poseidon included, observed the unfolding tragedy with varying degrees of detachment. The god of the sea, usually stoic, looked at Zeus with a flicker of understanding and regret in his eyes.

His expression softened slightly as he took in the scene below. The god of the sea was not entirely devoid of compassion, and seeing his younger brother in such visible torment seemed to touch a chord within him.

Poseidon's gaze turned toward Hera, his face hardening slightly as he registered her pleased expression. She wore a cruel smile that only deepened the sense of injustice. Her eyes glinted with a disturbing satisfaction, as if the suffering of the mortals and the strife among the gods were part of a grander scheme she had orchestrated.

The smile on her lips was not one of simple pleasure, but of a dark, almost vindictive triumph.

Lyra's heart pounded in her chest, the terror of the scene before her blending with the fierce resolve to protect her siblings.

Seraphim's command was clear and chilling, his voice cutting through the chaos with a cold finality.

"Take him away," Seraphim ordered, his eyes fixed on Heron.

Two demons seized Heron, who was still battered from his earlier fight. He struggled weakly against their grip, his eyes filled with a mixture of defiance and despair. Lyra's heart wrenched at the sight of her friend being dragged away, but she was powerless to help him.

Instead, her gaze shifted to her siblings, Alexander and Callista, who were huddled together, their faces pale with fear. She tried to move towards them, but Seraphim's gaze fell upon her with a sinister calculation.

"Kill the children," he declared, his tone dripping with malice.

The words were like a death knell, sending a fresh wave of horror through Lyra. The demons around her stirred, their eyes glinting with malevolent anticipation.

"No!" her voice broke through the fear.

She threw herself at the nearest demon, her movements driven by pure adrenaline and desperation. Her hands clawed at the demon's face, her kicks landing with desperate force. The demons around her were momentarily taken aback by her ferocity.

In the chaos of her struggle, Lyra managed to break free for a brief moment. Her breath was ragged as she sprinted towards her siblings, but her escape was short-lived.

Demons quickly closed in, grabbing her and pulling her away from the children. She fought with every ounce of strength she had, but her attempts to reach her siblings were in vain.

Seraphim watched her struggle with a growing sense of interest. His eyes, cold and calculating, tracked her every movement. As the demons restrained her once more, he made a decision.

"Stop!" Seraphim's voice rang out, and the demons momentarily halted their advance. "It seems this one has more fight left in her than I anticipated."

His gaze turned to Lyra, his expression shifting from disinterest to cruel amusement.

"I admire your spirit," he told her. "For this, I'll let the children live. But you, have earned a different fate."

Lyra's heart sank as she realized the full extent of Seraphim's cruelty. Her fight had sealed her own doom, but at least it had saved her siblings.

The demons' eyes burned with a predatory light, and a cold shiver ran down her spine as she saw the twisted pleasure in their expressions.

Seraphim approached her, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her towards his men, before he shoved her towards them. Many hands gripped onto her shoulder, arms and whatever other part they could reach, fingers and nails digging into her flesh.

"Let her remain alive for as long as possible, so she may bear witness to the true meaning of despair," Seraphim sneered, his eyes glinting with dark satisfaction, as he looked back towards her. "You'll soon learn it would've been better to just let them doe. But for now, let's see how long you can endure."

Seraphim turned his attention back to the children, his expression shifting to one of disdain. He grabbed Callista and Alexander, lifting them with ease despite their cries of protest. With a forceful motion, he threw them into the same cage where Heron had been imprisoned.

The children landed with a thud, their terrified eyes wide as they looked up at the demon leader.

"Stay here," Seraphim instructed the demons guarding the cage. "Watch them until the others bring the girl. Their lives are not your concern at the moment."

The screams echoed through the night, mingling with the shouts and roars of the demons as they indulged in their cruel release.

Lyra's cries were filled with raw fear, as the demons turned their attention toward her and without waiting any longer, set upon her.

Her anguished screams pierced the night, a stark contrast to the chilling silence that followed Seraphim's departure.

The cacophony of sounds—her desperate pleas, the harsh laughter of the demons, and the distant cries of the children—created a haunting symphony of suffering that resonated through the darkened forest.

In the cage, Alexander and Callista huddled together, their faces streaked with tears. They could hear Lyra's pain, and their own fear seemed to double with each agonized cry that reached their ears.

They clung to each other, their small bodies trembling as they tried to block out the sounds of the horrors unfolding just outside their temporary prison.

The cage became a dark sanctuary, a place where fear and despair reigned supreme, and where hope seemed like a distant, unreachable dream.

Chapter Text

When Alexia emerged from her hiding spot, the sun was already casting its first soft light over the land, revealing a scene of unspeakable carnage.

She had witnessed countless battles in her time, had faced the gruesome aftermaths of wars and skirmishes, but the sight of an entire polis massacred in a single night was a gut-wrenching shock.

The scent of blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the acrid smoke from the still-smouldering fires.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she stepped forward, trying to take in the full extent of the devastation.

Blood and entrails were splattered across the ground, and bodies were strewn about like discarded dolls. The faces of the dead, twisted in their final moments of agony, stared up at her with unseeing eyes.

“By the gods,” she breathed out, her voice barely more than a whisper.

She prayed that none of them would turn out to be Ismene. About half-way through their run, when they were chased by a group of demons, they got separated, and she had no idea where the woman went.

And while she knew that that Ismene was more than capable of taking care of herself and fighting her way out of most situations she could've gotten herself into, it still didn't stop her from worrying.

Her grip tightened on her sword, though there were no enemies left to fight.

As she walked down the path towards the polis, the destruction only grew worse. It seemed impossible that anyone could have survived such a brutal onslaught. The polis, once bustling with life, now stood silent and empty, a graveyard of lost souls.

Yet Alexia clung to a fragile thread of hope. This was not one of the largest poleis, but it was not small either. It was hard to believe that every single person had perished in one night. She had to find someone, anyone, who might still be alive.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she saw movement. An old man was huddled on the ground, cradling a body in his arms. The sight of him stirred a glimmer of hope in her heart, but as she drew nearer, that hope was quickly dashed.

She recognized the woman in his arms—Heron’s mother. She was the one Heron had been searching for so desperately. Her steps faltered as she approached them.

The old man did not look up, but his grief was palpable, a tangible weight in the air. Alexia could feel his sorrow even before he spoke, and her own heart ached in response.

“The man and women you’re looking for,” he said, his voice raw with anguish, “They’re not here.”

She followed his gaze to the ruins of the polis, taking in the totality of the destruction. Flames still licked at the remains of buildings, and the acrid smell of burning lingered.

“They’ve been taken captive,” the old man continued, a tear sliding down his weathered cheek.

Giving him one last glance, determination hardened Alexia’s features. She had a mission now, a purpose beyond just survival. She took off towards the heart of the polis.

As she passed through the desolation, she vowed silently to herself that she would not let this massacre go unanswered. The demons had unleashed unimaginable horror upon these people, but they had not extinguished the fire of her resolve. No, they had only strengthened it.

Hermes watched as the old man gently placed two coins over the eyes of the woman. When he placed the second coin down, he ran a hand down her face, tears streaming down his cheeks. The sorrow etched in his features was something that struck younger god deeply.

“Fear not, father,” the messenger god made his presence known, his voice gentle but firm. “The more one suffers in this life, the easier they move into the next.”

Hermes walked around the body of the woman, kneeling down opposite the old man. Putting a hand above her chest, he used his armband to free her soul from her body. As the ethereal form of Electra rose from her mortal shell, she stood beside him, her eyes wide with confusion, as they all were in the beginning.

No one spoke, giving her the space to process what had happened. At first, she seemed completely lost, her gaze darting around until it settled on Hermes standing beside her. She frowned, then her eyes followed the line of her own body lying lifeless on the ground.

In that moment, understanding dawned. She gasped, raising her hands and noticing she could see right through them.

The reality of her death hit her with full force, and she turned to the old man, tears welling in her spectral eyes.

Zeus watched her with sad eyes, knowing this would most likely be the last time he ever saw her.

While he had always known this moment would come, he had hoped they would have more time together, and that her death would be much more peaceful.

The sight of her so vulnerable and lost tugged at his heartstrings, filling him with a deep, aching sorrow.

Looking towards his son, Zeus gave Hermes a sign that it was time. The messenger god nodded solemnly, before once again using the armband to dematerialize the ghost.

As Electra's form began to dissipate, she cast one last, longing look at her lover. Her expression was a mixture of sadness and acceptance, a silent goodbye.

As her soul was absorbed into the horn, there to be safely kept until it could be delivered to the Underworld, the old man looked where she just stood with empty gaze.

The sight of his raw grief was almost unbearable, and Hermes felt a pang of empathy for the man. Placing a comforting hand on Zeus's shoulder, Hermes tried to convey some measure of solace.

Zeus nodded, though his eyes were still fixed on the spot where Electra's soul had vanished. He seemed to be wrestling with his emotions, the pain of loss evident in every line of his face.

Hermes stood, his gaze lingering on the old man for a moment longer before he took off, starting Electra’s last journey. And the weight of the task ahead felt heavier than usual.

The dim light from the torches flickered weakly through the iron bars of the cage, casting long, dancing shadows across the grimy floor.

Lyra sat huddled in the farthest corner of the cage, her back pressed tightly against the cold metal, her knees drawn up to her chest. This was the only position where the pain didn’t bother her as much. Truth to be told, by now, her body simply became numb. But she still stayed in the same position, not wanting to find out if the pain would flare up if she moved.

She was silent, her eyes fixed on the dark, twisted shapes of the forest outside, where the occasional shadow moved in the eerie light.

Heron lay slumped in a corner, his face pale and unresponsive. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest was the only sign that he was still alive.

Lyra’s eyes occasionally flickered towards him, but she quickly turned away. The sight of him in such a state was a constant source of worry for the woman, but she had neither the strength nor the means to help him.

The two other men in the cage, Kofi and Evios, sat a few feet away from her, their expressions a mixture of exhaustion and empathy.

Kofi’s face bore the marks of countless battles, his eyes tired but compassionate. Evios, his demeanour more reserved, seemed to be lost in thought.

They had both attempted to speak with Lyra in hushed tones, trying to offer some comfort, but she remained mostly silent, her gaze unfocused.

Her thoughts were a turbulent storm of self-loathing and guilt. She replayed the events over and over in her mind, berating herself for not being stronger, for not fighting hard enough. Her body, covered in bruises and cuts, was a tangible reminder of her perceived failures.

Alexander and Callista, sitting close to their older sister, occasionally looked up at the men with hopeful eyes.

They were frightened but tried to keep their composure. Alexander clung to Callista, his small frame trembling. Callista’s eyes were red from crying, but she held her brother close, trying to be brave.

A dark-skinned man, noticing the children’s fear and distress, made a gentle effort to reach out.

“You two look like you could use some comfort,” he said softly. “Why don’t you come here?”

Callista hesitated for a moment before she slowly approached Kofi, and Alexander followed.

“Can you hug us?” the boy’s voice was trembling, and the girl’s eyes were wide with a mix of fear and hope.

“Of course,” the man nodded with a soft smile and opened his arms as much as the cuffs allowed.

The children, seeking solace, wrapped themselves around him. He held them both gently, his embrace warm and reassuring. The children’s sobs quieted slightly as they found some comfort in the man’s hug.

Lyra watched the scene from her corner, her heart breaking at the sight of her siblings seeking comfort in the arms of a stranger.

She wanted to be the one to comfort them, but the emotional and physical exhaustion made it seem impossible. Her own shame and self-recrimination gnawed at her, making her feel like she had failed them all.

The other man, watching the scene, glanced at Lyra.

“You should join them,” he suggested quietly, though he made no move towards her. “It might help.”

Lyra shook her head vehemently, her eyes wide and defensive.

“No,” she rasped, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I... I don't think I can stand someone touching me for now."

The words came out strained, and the man nodded in understanding, his gaze sympathetic. He did not press the matter further. Instead, he sat silently, allowing the children to find some small solace in the stranger's embrace.

Lyra looked down at the wooden floor. It wasn't that she didn't want comfort. No, this was something she wanted, but she couldn't stand someone's touch at the moment. Not when all she felt were the sharp claws digging into her skin, rough hands tugging and pushing her, punches and kicks landing on every part of her body...

For the time being, she needed to be left alone, without touching anyone. Instead, her eyes drifted back to her siblings and the two men. The cage’s oppressive confines seemed to weigh heavily on her, and the agony of her recent ordeal was a constant, throbbing presence in her mind.

But she forced herself to try and focus on her siblings’ soft, muffled cries and the occasional comforting words from the dark-skinned man, keeping herself grounded.

As the hours dragged on, Lyra’s resistance began to wane. Her face, marked by the shadows of her pain and exhaustion, softened slightly as she looked at the children and the two men who had shown them some kindness.

Though her heart remained heavy, she felt a flicker of gratitude amidst the overwhelming despair.

“I—” Lyra’s voice cracked as she finally attempted to speak, her throat sore from the earlier screams.

She cleared her throat and tried again, her words hesitant and raw.

“Thank you. For… helping them.”

The man, still holding the children, looked at her with a gentle, understanding smile.

Sometime later, Heron woke up with a gasp, reaching for something. In response to the sudden movement, the two-headed beast jumped towards the cage, growling and barking.

The man jumped back, startled. Cracks of a whip filled the air, as one of the demons lashed out at the creature. The dog let out a low whine and shuffled away.

Heron took a moment to gather himself and realized where he was. He was inside a cage, a bit too crowded with people for his liking, yet there was still some spare space left.

Around them, men in various stages of transforming into demons walked between the cages. Their skin was paler than it should be, with red veins spread across it, giving them a ghastly appearance.

“Are we in Hades?” he panted, taking in the grim surroundings.

He felt someone’s hands on his shoulders and saw a head appear over his shoulder.

“We will be soon enough,” the unknown man said before throwing him to the side. “Do yourself a favour and die.”

Heron glared at the man, then turned his gaze to the dark-skinned one before him. The other man was covered in scars and bigger than anyone Heron had ever seen. Yet, he held two very familiar, sleeping children with a care that Heron didn’t expect from him.

His expression softened when he saw them, then Lyra sitting next to them, also dozing off. Her body was covered in bruises and cuts, her face a mask of exhaustion and pain. She looked so fragile in that moment that it broke his heart.

“Where’s their leader?” Heron asked, looking back towards the first man. “The one with the bident?”

The two men exchanged a look and scoffed a laugh.

“Why?” the first one asked. “You want him to finish what he started?”

Heron’s jaw tightened, and he clenched his fists. The man's mocking tone cut deep, but Heron refused to let it get to him.

When the man noticed his words didn’t have the effect he expected, his smile fell, and he leaned back with a sigh, resting his hands behind his head.

“Look, I don’t know. Last I heard, he was on the trail of the Amazonian, Alexia, and her warrior friend, what was her name? Isolde? Irene?”

"Ismene," Heron corrected, before letting out a small sigh.

He nodded to himself, taking in the information. He glanced back at Lyra, whose sleep was restless, her body twitching slightly. The sight of her wounds made his blood boil, but he knew he had to stay calm.

Heron’s attention shifted back to the children, Alexander and Callista. Their innocent faces were marred by dirt and fear. Seeing them huddled together in Kofi’s protective embrace brought a surge of protectiveness within Heron.

“We have to get out of here,” he said, determination hardening his voice.

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that, hero?” one of the men rolled his eyes. “We’re all caged like animals, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“If we stay here, we're as good as dead,” Heron declared.

The dark-skinned man met his gaze, a hint of a challenge in his eyes.

"And what exactly is your plan? Run into the arms of more demons? Fight our way out with bare hands?"

"Anything is better than sitting here waiting to die," Heron clenched his fists, frustration boiling beneath the surface.

The other man chuckled, a hollow sound that grated on the Heron’s nerves.

"Bold words, hero. Got any magic tricks up your sleeve? Because that's about what it’ll take."

Heron’s gaze shifted to the dark-skinned man, who was watching him intently. Glancing towards the kids, he hoped the man might care enough to help at least get them out of this mess.

“Can you help us?”

The man in question also looked down at Alexander and Callista, who were still sleeping peacefully in his arms. His expression was unreadable.

“I care for my survival,” he said, his voice low but not unkind. “And right now, keeping these kids calm helps with that. But helping you escape? That’s a different story. You’re dreamin’, boy.”

“Yeah, well, dreams are all we’ve got left,” his companion snorted.

Lyra stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She looked around, disoriented, before her gaze landed on Heron. The fear and pain in her eyes were still present but now tempered with relief.

“Heron,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t… I wasn’t strong enough…”

Heron reached out, and this time, Lyra didn’t flinch away, like she did earlier, before Heron woke up. She stayed where she was, still sore but more at ease with his familiar presence. Her heart ached with relief, seeing that he was alright.

“You did all you could, Lyra,” he said softly. “And it’s more than enough.”

Alexander and Callista shifted, waking up slowly. They looked around, their eyes wide with fear. The man, who was still holding them, offered a reassuring smile, though it was a faint one.

“Are you okay?” Heron asked them softly.

Alexander nodded, his eyes wide and scared.

“We’re scared,” he admitted in a small voice.

“It’s alright, kid,” the man said gently, pulling them closer. “You’re safe, as long as you stay quiet.”

The other man scoffed again but didn’t say anything more. He simply leaned back and closed his eyes, seemingly indifferent to the plight of his fellow prisoners.

Lyra watched this, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. She wanted to protect them, to be the strong one, but her body and spirit were shattered.

Apollo sat under a large tree in the Olympian palace’s garden, surrounded by the gentle hum of nature. The sun cast a warm, golden glow over the vibrant flowers, and the soft breeze carried the scent of blooming jasmine.

He strummed his lyre softly, the melody intertwining with the birds' songs. The music was soothing, a balm to his troubled mind. He had always found solace in music, a way to express emotions he often kept hidden.

"Do you ever get tired of playing that thing?" a voice broke the serene silence.

Apollo looked up to see Hermes approaching, his winged sandals barely making a sound on the grass. The god of messengers and thieves had a mischievous glint in his eye, as always.

"Never," the older god replied with a smile. "Music is a constant companion. It speaks when words fail."

"I suppose I can understand that,” his brother plopped down beside him, leaning back on his hands. “Though I prefer the thrill of a good trick or the rush of delivering important messages."

Apollo chuckled, setting his lyre aside.

"Everyone has their passions. Speaking of which, any interesting news from the mortal realm?"

"The usual chaos,” Hermes shrugged. “Wars, love affairs, petty squabbles. Mortals never seem to change, do they?"

"No, they don't," Apollo agreed. "But there's beauty in their persistence, in their never-ending struggle to better themselves."

"Philosophical as always," the younger god teased, but there was a note of appreciation in his voice. "What about you? Anything interesting happening in your domains?"

The blonde leaned back, letting the sun's warmth seep into his skin.

"I've been watching over my oracles, guiding them as best I can. The Pythia at Delphi had a particularly insightful vision the other day. It’s fascinating to see how the mortals interpret the divine messages."

Hermes nodded, picking a blade of grass and twirling it between his fingers.

"Do you ever get involved directly? I mean, aside from the prophecies and guidance?"

"Rarely,” Apollo shook his head. “The mortals need to walk their own paths. Our interference can sometimes cause more harm than good."

"True," Hermes said thoughtfully. "But it must be hard, watching from a distance."

"It is," his brother admitted, his gaze distant. "But it's necessary. They need to grow, to learn from their mistakes."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the peaceful atmosphere wrapping around them like a soft blanket. The worries and responsibilities of their divine roles seemed to melt away in this serene corner of Olympus.

"Do you ever wish you were mortal?" Hermes asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Apollo considered the question, his fingers tracing the intricate carvings on his lyre.

"Sometimes. Their lives are brief, but they experience everything so intensely. Every moment is precious to them."

"I get that,” the messenger god nodded. “Their struggles, their joys, it's all so raw, so real."

"Exactly” the blonde smiled. “But we have our roles to play, our duties to fulfil. And there's beauty in that too."

"Indeed," Hermes agreed, his mischievous smile returning. "Now, how about a race back to the palace? I could use a small break from running around to do all these duties."

Apollo laughed, standing up and putting away his lyre.

"You're on, brother. But don't expect me to go easy on you… And no cheating,” he gave a pointed look towards the winged sandals.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Hermes grinned, before taking off.

Even though he did as promised, and didn’t use his abnormal speed, he was till the fastest among the gods.

As Apollo and Hermes raced through the garden, their laughter and shouts echoing through the air, Artemis appeared at from the entrance of the gardens.

Seeing her brothers engaged in their playful competition, she couldn’t help but smile. They rarely had and took the time to relax, usually too busy with everything going on, and it warmed her heart to see them in such high spirits. Then, an idea came to her mind.

Suddenly, a silver streak appeared out of nowhere, overtaking both brothers with effortless speed. It was Artemis, her silvery hair streaming behind her, her bow slung casually over her shoulder, her hunter gear on.

“Not fair, Artemis!” Hermes called out, laughing as he tried to catch up. “You can’t just join mid-race and expect to win!”

Artemis slowed down, allowing her brothers to pull alongside her.

“Oh, come now, Hermes. You know I can’t resist a good challenge,” she replied with a playful smile.

“I thought you were out hunting,” Apollo matched her pace, his own smile widening.

“I was,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “But I needed a break. The forest can get a bit lonely. And when I found you two racing, I made a decision that you two need to be humiliated today.”

“Oh, it’s on.”

The three siblings slowed down, before lining up at an imaginary starting line, their competitive spirits ignited. The air buzzed with anticipation as they prepared to dash through the garden, their divine powers enhancing their speed and agility.

“On my mark,” Hermes said, his eyes gleaming. “Three, two, one… go!”

They burst forward, a blur of motion as they darted through the lush garden.

Artemis’s footsteps were light and swift, barely touching the ground as she sprinted ahead. Hermes, even without his winged sandals, kept pace easily, his laughter ringing out. Apollo was just behind them, almost bumping into them each time he took a step.

The siblings weaved through trees and bushes, leaped over streams, and darted around flowerbeds, their playful competition intensifying with each passing second. The garden seemed to come alive with their energy, the plants swaying and the animals watching in awe.

As they neared the end of the race, a large clearing bathed in sunlight, Artemis pushed herself harder, her breath steady and controlled. She glanced to her side, seeing Apollo gaining on her, his face set with determination.

With a final burst of speed, Artemis crossed the finish line first, her feet skidding to a stop in the soft grass. Apollo followed closely, a wide smile on his face despite his second-place finish. Hermes arrived last but with a dramatic flourish, pretending to collapse in exhaustion.

Everyone knew he was the fastest and swiftest of the gods, so he figured that he could let his siblings have this win.

“Well done, sister,” Apollo said with a playful bow. “You truly are the swiftest.”

“Of course,” Artemis smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. “Did you ever doubt it?”

Hermes, still lying on the ground, laughed.

“I let you win, Artemis. I didn’t want to bruise your ego.”

Artemis rolled her eyes, extending a hand to help Hermes up.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Hermes,” she laughed, but appreciated, knowing he was speaking the truth.

However, instead of pulling himself up, the youngest god pulled her down beside him. Artemis let out a gasp when she lost her balance and landed in the soft grass.

For a second, everything was quiet, before Apollo burst out laughing, the two joining him seconds later.

When the laughter finally died down, the sun god flopped down onto the grass, stretching out and sighing contentedly.

“This is nice. We should do this more often,” he said.

“Agreed. It’s good to take a break and just… be,” Hermes sighed, closing his eyes.

“We do get caught up in our duties, don’t we?” Artemis looked towards her brothers. “Rarely take moments like these, to remind ourselves of the simple joys.”

Then, she propped herself up on her elbows, her gaze drifting to the sky.

“Speaking of simple joys, how are things in your domains? Anything interesting?”

Hermes chuckled, folding his hands behind his head.

“Just the usual chaos. Mortals being mortals. Though I did have a fun time playing tricks on a particularly arrogant king the other day.”

“Oh?” Artemis raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

“Well,” Hermes began, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "There was this king who thought he was the smartest person in all of Greece. So, naturally, I had to prove him wrong. I started small, hiding his sandals, moving his goblet just out of reach…”

As Hermes recounted his tale, Apollo listened with a smile, occasionally adding his own comments. Artemis laughed, her musical laughter blending with the sounds of nature around them.

“And then, just when he thought he had figured it all out, I appeared and told him it was all a lesson in humility,” the youngest god continued. “He didn’t take it well, but I think he got the message.”

Artemis shook her head, still chuckling.

“You never change, Hermes. Always the trickster.”

“It’s what I do best,” Hermes shrugged, unrepentant.

The three gods sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s company. The peaceful setting, the bond they shared, and the simplicity of the moment made it a memory they would cherish.

Finally, as the sun reached its zenith, bathing the entire garden in its golden glory, Artemis stood up.

“I should get back to the hunt,” she said with a sigh. “My hunters are expecting me.”

Hermes stretched and got to his feet as well.

“And I have messages to deliver. Duty calls.”

Apollo nodded, standing with them.

“I’ll stay here a while longer. Play a bit more music.”

They exchanged hugs, before Hermes and Artemis walked away. Apollo watched them go, a content smile on his face. Then, he picked up his lyre and began to play again.

Chapter Text

The journey had been gruelling, the cage cramped and suffocating. When the wagon finally stopped, the prisoners were roughly dragged out. The two men they were in the cage with were the first two to leave.

Lyra, sore and weary, stumbled as she was pushed out. She caught herself before falling, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.

Heron was hauled out next. His gaze met Lyra's, a silent exchange of determination passing between them.

Alexander and Callista were pulled out last, their small frames trembling with fear. Both Lyra and Heron took a child by the hand, quickly pulling them to their sides. Lyra grabbed her sister, while Heron grabbed the boy.

The guards lined them up, their sneers and rough hands not caring about the state of the person, as they whipper and snarled at the people they deemed as weak.

The group stood together, a mixture of defiance and fear. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the grim landscape. Lyra's heart pounded as she tried to think of a way out, but came up with nothing.

"Where are they taking us?" Heron asked, as he walked behind the dark-skinned man.

"You don't wanna know," he replied, slightly turning his head to glance him.

"No talking!" a demon growled.

Both of the men, who were in front of Heron, even the one who didn't talk, but also got smacked with a whip, grunted, flinching back, away from the whip.

Heron did his best to shield Alexander, but the whip still nicked the boy's arm. He let out a small cry, bringing his hand to hold the aching spot, while the man he held onto only hissed.

He was used to all kinds of pain, as he was constantly abused by people from his polis. It wasn't unusual for him to receive whipping or be hit with stones. All of this caused him to build up better pain tolerance than most people had.

He didn't say he knew what the two other went through and how much endurance they had, because looking at their scars he was more than sure they went through their own share of pain, but to him it looked like he was just a bit more used to pain than the two of them.

The man who didn't say anything, but still got whipped, however, didn't see it as such.

"Obviously, he whipped us just a little harder than you," he hissed.

"Obviously," Heron rolled his eyes, before looking down at the boy. "You okay, buddy?"

"It hurts," the boy sniffed.

"I know. But it'll only sting for a moment longer," the man gave him a tight smile and squeezed his hand.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

As they continued to trudge along, the air grew salty, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore became audible. The group was led towards a beach, the sight of the vast ocean spreading out before them.

The sun reflected off the water, creating scene that could be called beautiful, if it was not for the circumstances.

"You asked where they're taking us," one of the man spoke up, his voice low. "There's your answer."

They all looked up to see massive ships, all black and red. They were unmistakable. Only one kind of ships looked like this.

"No on escapes the galleys," the dark-skinned man muttered.

The prisoners were herded into a line along the sand, the guards' whips cracking to ensure compliance. Lyra's mind raced, trying to find any possible means of escape, but the oppressive presence of the demons and the expanse of the ocean offered little hope.

Heron squeezed Alexander's hand reassuringly, while Lyra did the same for Callista. The children clung to them, their eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.

The demons seemed particularly focused on Lyra and Heron. Their taunts were sharp and cruel, aimed at breaking their spirits.

"You'll have to work twice as hard if you want the little one to survive in there," one of the demons sneered, his eyes glinting with malicious amusement.

Another demon prodded Lyra with the end of his whip.

"You think you're so special, don't you? Not only you're a woman, but you're also holding onto this child? In the galleys, you'll be nothing more than a weak link."

Lyra flinched but did her best to remain composed, her grip on Callista tightening. Her face was a mask of determination, though her heart ached at the thought of what lay ahead.

Heron, similarly, was subjected to jeers from the demons.

"You're quite the hero, aren't you? Let's see how long that courage lasts when you're chained to an oar."

Despite the harsh treatment and the taunts, the prisoners maintained a semblance of solidarity. The once-proud warriors and all other kinds of people now stood side by side with the others, all of them defeated and waiting for whatever comes next.

The line of prisoners moved slowly towards the waiting ships. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore seemed to mock their helplessness, and the sun, though bright, offered little warmth or comfort.

As they reached the edge of the gangplanks leading onto the ships, the demons pushed and prodded them, ensuring everyone moved along swiftly. The prisoners were separated into different groups, their fates sealed as they were forced onto the galleys.

Lyra and Heron exchanged one last, silent look of determination before being driven onto the ship. The children were clutched tightly in their arms, their small forms a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.

Each prisoner was chained to their oar, the rhythmic creak of wood against metal a filling the room.

Even Callista and Alexander, their small arms trembling from exhaustion, were forced to row. Lyra wasn't much better – her body still ached from the brutal beating she had endured, and she could barely keep up with the relentless pace.

Luckily for them, the three of them were seated with three stronger men – Lyra with Heron, Callista with the dark-skinned man they were in the cage with, earlier, and Alexander with the man's companion.

The men's strength compensated for the children's and Lyra's weakened efforts, ensuring that the group remained in sync and avoided the wrath of the overseers.

During a brief respite, Alexander's eyes wandered to the dark-skinned man beside his sister. The scars that adorned his arms and chest fascinated the boy, who finally mustered the courage to ask.

"How did you get those scars?"

The man glanced down at the boy, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"These?" he said, indicating the scars with a nod. "These are my consolation prize from the Pankration Games."

Callista, who had been listening quietly, piped up.

"What are the... Pancretian Games?"

"Pankration Games," the man corrected with a small smile. "They're fights. Men battle each other in an arena, using any means necessary to win. It's a test of strength, skill, and endurance."

Heron, rowing beside Lyra, seemed surprised.

"You were in the Games?" he asked, raising a brow.

"This one can be quite convincing when he wants to be," the dark-skinned man said, pointing to his companion. "He talked them into letting me fight."

"How?" Heron asked, curiosity piqued.

"There was money to be made," the companion, smirked. "How else?"

The dark-skinned man, shrugged.

"He knew the Greeks wouldn't bet on a black man. So he did. And it paid off for both of us," he smirked, glancing towards his friend.

"That slab of meat she's sitting next to is the three-time champion," the other man added with a boastful grin.

"It would have been four, but there was no one left to fight," the dark-skinned man said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Heron seemed to get an idea, his eyes shifting towards the demons who were filling the lamps with oil. His eyes sparkled with a sudden realization.

"Time to test your mettle again," he said to the three-time champion. "I have an idea."

The two men exchanged a glance, understanding immediately that whatever Heron was planning, it would require every ounce of their strength and cunning. They nodded in unison, ready to take on the challenge.

The opportunity was ripe, and Heron's plan might be their best shot at freedom.

"They're going to refill them soon," Heron whispered, his eyes fixated on the olive lamp in the middle of the dimly lit room. "You know what to do."

The dark-skinned man nodded.

"One last thing," Heron looked between the two. "What are your names?

"Evios," the lighter-skinned man, that usually wore a sardonic smile, introduced himself.

"Kofi," the dark-skinned man was next.

"I'm Heron."

"Lyra. And these are Callista and Alexander."

Just as they finished exchanging names, the grate separating them from the upper deck was opened with a metallic screech. Demons lowered amphoras filled with oil to refill the lamps, just as Heron had predicted.

Giving Evios a nod, the plan was set in motion. The man rose from his seat and walked up to one of the demons, adopting a pitiful expression.

"Uh, permission to... to use the chamber pot?" he asked, his voice stuttering as he bowed slightly.

"I need to go," Kofi interjected, stepping up behind him.

"No, I asked first," Evios told him.

"I don't care!" the dark-skinned man snapped back.

"I asked—" he was cut off, when the bigger man shoved him aside.

"Out of my way!"

"Get your hands off me!" Evios shouted, shoving back.

Lyra raised a brow as she watched. Then, she leaned closer to Heron.

"These two are actually really convincing," she whispered. "You think they've done something like this before?"

"Without a doubt," he whispered back, his eyes never leaving the two men.

The tension escalated quickly as Kofi and Evios began shoving each other with increasing force. Kofi finally pushed Evios directly into the demon. The creature staggered back, then took out his whip.

"Enough!" the demon roared, his whip snapping through the air with a sharp crack.

The whip lashed across both men's backs, drawing groans of pain from them. They stopped fighting immediately, their expressions a mix of pain and defiance.

"Now neither of you can go!" the demon declared, his eyes blazing with anger.

He brandished his whip menacingly, daring anyone else to challenge his authority.

Kofi nodded, his face a mask of submission, and turned to walk away. Evios, adopting a more subservient posture, bowed deeply.

"My... My sincerest apologies, O... O mighty one," he stuttered, his voice trembling as he walked back towards his place, his eyes flicking briefly to Heron and Lyra before he settled back at his oar.

Lyra waited until the guard walked past them, her eyes narrowing as she ensured they were out of earshot. Once the demon moved away, she smirked and gave the two men a thumbs up.

"Nice work, you two," she complimented, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh, yeah? Well, it's not one of my best performances, but I can't complain," Evios smirked back, before he subtly revealed the keys he had snatched off the demon during the scuffle, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

Wasting no time, he swiftly unlocked his own cuffs and then moved to free Callista. The girl's eyes widened with hope as the metal restraints fell away. He then tossed the keys toward Kofi, who caught them deftly and began working on his own shackles.

"Come on, hurry!" Evios hissed, his eyes darting toward the approaching demon.

"No, wait," Heron said, his voice steady despite the urgency.

He also noticed the approaching demon, but this was too important to risk it. This could be their only chance and there was no way they were screwing it up.

"We're running out of time," Evios argued, his voice a strained whisper.

"Hold," Heron commanded, his eyes tracking the demon's movements.

The demon stopped just beside them, its eyes scanning the rowers with suspicion. It took everything in Lyra not to flinch as its gaze lingered on her. She held her breath, her muscles tense, praying the demon wouldn't notice anything amiss.

After a few agonizing moments, the demon moved on, apparently satisfied.

"Now!" Heron gave the signal, and they dropped their oars in unison.

Evios sprang into action, leaping onto the demon that had just passed them. With a swift, practiced motion, he snatched the knife from the demon's belt and plunged it into its side. While he did that, Kofi was already working on freeing himself and Alexander.

As soon as they were free, Kofi tossed the keys to Heron and joined the fray. The demon, though wounded, threw Evios off and prepared to pounce. Kofi moved quickly, disarming the demon and restraining it with a brutal efficiency that spoke of experience.

Heron freed himself with a quick turn of the key and handed the keys to Lyra before rushing to assist Kofi. He grabbed a sword from the demon's belt and, with a decisive thrust, impaled the creature through the head. The demon's body went limp, collapsing to the floor with a dull thud.

The commotion drew the attention of the remaining two demons. They drew their swords, advancing on the rebels with menacing snarls.

Heron met the first one head-on, their blades clashing in a shower of sparks. He fought with a ferocity fuelled by desperation, which worked very well in his favour, as he was able to quickly disarm and kill the demon.

The second demon, seeing its comrade fall, made a break for the bell to summon reinforcements. But Evios was already ready and waiting, as he used the rope he snatched earlier and lashed it out like a whip.

It wrapped around the demon's neck and the man pulled it back with a powerful yank. The demon struggled, still dragging itself toward the bell, but Kofi joined Evios, and together they wrestled the demon to the ground.

Heron sprinted over, sword in hand, and with a swift, precise strike, he drove the blade through the demon's neck. The creature gurgled, its eyes glazing over as it died.

Silence fell over the galley, the oppressive stillness broken only by the laboured breathing of the prisoners. Lyra, who freed herself during the fight, tossed the keys to the nearest man, her voice steady as she addressed everyone.

"Free yourselves," then, she turned to her siblings, her expression softening. "And you two, stay down here and don't come out until I tell you to."

Alexander and Callista nodded quickly, their eyes wide with fear but filled with trust. They scampered back to their seats, hiding among the shadows.

Lyra gave them a reassuring nod before following Heron, who was already heading toward the upper deck, determination etched into every line of his face.

They all worked well together, taking down demons faster than they could swarm them. Each one helped another when needed, and in no time, they cleared the deck of demons.

The teamwork was seamless: Evios's nimble movements kept him one step ahead of their enemies. Lyra, despite her exhaustion, moved with fierce precision, as she fought back-to-back with Heron. Kofi also was holding his own perfectly, as he wrestled with demons, each movement speaking years of experience.

The final demon, standing at the far side of the ship, raised a horn to his lips, a desperate attempt to call for reinforcements. His blast was cut short as a sword embedded itself in his skull. The demon staggered, then toppled over the edge, splashing into the dark waters below.

The four turned to see a group of men in armour standing at the opposite end of the deck. The leader, who had thrown the sword, met Lyra's gaze. She gave him a nod of acknowledgment, which he returned with a grim smile.

They surveyed the deck once more, ensuring no demons were left. As the adrenaline began to wane, they saw another ship sailing toward them, its silhouette growing larger against the horizon.

"I'll take it from here," Evios declared, his voice brimming with confidence as he sprinted toward the helm.

"What are you doing?" Heron called after him, a mix of curiosity and concern in his tone.

"What I do best," Evios replied without breaking stride.

Kofi quickly scaled the mast, his agility impressive despite his size. Evios took his place behind the steer, his hands gripping the wood with familiarity and ease.

"Ramming speed," he commanded, his voice carrying across the deck. "Now!"

Kofi pulled on the ropes, releasing the sail. The canvas billowed and caught the wind, propelling the ship forward with a sudden surge. The hull creaked and groaned under the strain, but it held steady as they gained momentum.

Lyra took a moment to assess the situation, then turned to Heron.

"I need to get my siblings," she said, determination in her eyes.

"Go," he nodded.

Lyra nodded and made her way to the hatch leading below deck. She moved swiftly but carefully, mindful of any lingering threats.

The dim light inside made it difficult to see, but she followed the familiar sounds of Alexander and Callista's breathing.

"Lyra?" her sister's small voice trembled from the shadows.

"Yes, it's me," she called back, her heart aching at the fear in her sister's voice. "It's safe now. We're going to get out of here."

She reached out, pulling Callista and Alexander into a tight embrace.

"Stay close to me," she instructed, leading them back toward the deck.

As they emerged into the open air, the scene before them was chaotic yet controlled. Evios steered with an expert hand, guiding their ship on a collision course with the enemy.

Kofi, from his vantage point on the mast, kept the sails adjusted to maximize their speed.

Heron stood near the bow, ready to repel any demons that dared to board. He glanced back and saw Lyra with the children, his face relaxed, as he gave them a small smile.

"Hold on tight!" Evios shouted as the distance between the two ships closed rapidly.

The impact was sudden and jarring. Their ship crashed into the enemy vessel with a splintering of wood and a thunderous boom.

The chaos of the ship battle had settled, if only temporarily, as Lyra sat on the edge of the ship's deck, her back against the wooden railing, and tried to take in the sight of the sea stretching endlessly before her. Callista and Alexander, were nestled beside her.

The twins huddled close, their faces streaked with grime and fear, their eyes darting around the ship. Lyra could see the exhaustion etched into their tiny faces, and she felt her own fatigue weighing heavily on her.

She tried to shield them from the reality of their grim situation, desperate to provide them some solace.

"Hey," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from Callista's face. "Remember when we used to play by the stream back home?"

Callista looked up at her, her eyes wide and still wet with unshed tears. She frowned at the random question.

"The stream?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Lyra nodded, trying to keep her own voice steady.

"Yes. It was so clear, and the fish were so colourful. I remember you always tried to catch them with your hands."

A small, hesitant smile crept onto Callista's lips.

"I did, didn't I?" she whispered.

Alexander, who was clinging to Lyra's other side, looked up at her with a flicker of curiosity.

"Did we catch any?" he asked, not remembering whether they succeeded, or not.

Lyra chuckled softly.

"Not many," she shrugged. "But I do remember one time, when we were lucky. Do you remember that big one that almost got away? I had to dive in after it."

"You did?" Alexander's eyes widened, and for a moment, the fear seemed to recede.

"Yes, and I ended up falling into the water with it," Lyra said, her tone light and playful. "We had the biggest laugh about it when we got back home. I was soaking wet, and the fish—well, it was slippery, but we managed to cook it that night."

"I remember that," Callista giggled, a soft, hesitant sound that was like a balm to Lyra's aching heart. "You made such a mess in the kitchen."

Lyra grinned, feeling a bittersweet pang of nostalgia.

"I did. But it was worth it for the laughs and the food."

Just as she was about to continue, a low, rumbling roar cut through the air. Lyra's heart skipped a beat as she looked up, her eyes widening in disbelief.

A familiar manticore was flying towards them, its massive wings beating the air with powerful strokes.

The beast's rider jumped down, his strange sword glowing faintly blue in his hand. He swung it in a wide arc, cutting the mast in half with a single stroke. The entire ship shook under the force of the rider's landing.

The sail ripped apart, as the wood groaned and splintered, and the mast fell to the sides, creating a deafening clatter as it hit the water.

Callista and Alexander cried out, clinging to Lyra as the ship's stability was compromised.

Lyra's breath caught in her throat as she recognized the rider, now revealed from behind the broken mast. Seraphim.

"No," Lyra breathed, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

Lyra felt her siblings clutching her even tighter, their breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. She hugged them close, trying to shield them from the sight of Seraphim and the approaching danger.

Lyra felt a chill run down her spine. There was something inherently dangerous about the weapon he wielded, something that made the ordinary seem profoundly terrifying.

"We meet again," Seraphim's voice was cold, and he pointed his sword towards Heron.

Callista and Alexander whimpered in fear, burying their faces in Lyra's sides. She held them close, shielding them as best as she could from the demon.

The manticore's rider moved with a deadly grace, slicing through amphorae and other supplies with the same ease he had used on the mast.

Lyra couldn't help but frown, as she looked at the weapon. There was something different about it, not just the glow, but the way it seemed to cut through everything with ease.

Heron didn't hesitate. He charged at Seraphim, determined to protect his friends and the children. But before he could reach him, a blinding flash of light illuminated the sky, and a bolt of lightning struck the ship. The force of the blast threw Heron back, separating him from Seraphim.

Everyone was sent sprawling. The ship shuddered under the lightning strike, pieces of wood flying into the air.

Lyra felt the searing pain of the blast, barely managing to keep hold of Callista and Alexander as they were flung into the water. The cold shock of the sea stole her breath away, and she struggled to keep herself and the children afloat.

The sea was a violent maelstrom of waves and chaos. Lyra struggled to keep Callista and Alexander afloat, their terrified cries mingling with the roar of the storm.

The lightning continued to strike, each bolt illuminating the tumultuous water with blinding intensity. The familiar sound of Zeus's fury echoed in the thunderous storm.

Desperation clawed at her as she fought against the stormy waves. Callista and Alexander were sobbing uncontrollably, their small bodies shaking against hers. They clung to Lyra with desperate strength, their fear making it almost impossible for her to swim.

Lyra's own strength was waning, each wave battering her further. She tried to keep her head above water, but the relentless storm made it nearly impossible.

Out of the darkness, a strong hand grabbed hers. Kofi, his face etched with determination, pulled her towards him. Despite the chaos, his grip was firm and reassuring.

"Kofi!" Lyra called out, her voice barely carrying over the sound of the storm and the crashing waves.

She could see him struggling in the water nearby, fighting to stay afloat amidst the wreckage. The dark-skinned man saw her and swam towards her with powerful strokes, his face a mask of determination.

When he reached her, he didn't try to take the children from her—he knew they were too terrified to let go. Instead, he positioned himself to help support all three of them, using his strength to keep them above water.

"Hold on!" Kofi shouted over the storm, his voice barely audible but full of urgency.

He managed to steady Lyra, helping her keep both Callista and Alexander above water.

"Let go of us!" Callista screamed through her tears, clutching Lyra desperately.

The way she screamed it suggested as if she was afraid that the man was going to try to drown them instead of helping. But in the moments of panic, all logic leaves people, especially such a small child. Alexander was in no better condition, trying everything in his power to get away from the man.

"Shh, it's okay," Lyra said, her voice trembling but trying to sound calm. "We're safe. We're okay."

Kofi maneuverer them through the water, fighting against the crashing waves. Despite his efforts, Callista and Alexander remained hysterical, their fear overwhelming.

Lyra's heart ached as she saw the terror in their eyes, feeling helpless as she tried to comfort them amidst the storm.

She wished for nothing more than to shield them from this nightmare and keep them safe, but the sea was relentless and unforgiving.

"Stay with me," Kofi urged, his voice cutting through the roar of the storm.

He kept his gaze fixed on the distant shore, trying to navigate through the treacherous waters. Lyra could see the determination in his eyes, the fierce resolve to keep them all alive.

The lightning flashed again, casting eerie shadows over the dark waters. Every time Lyra thought she couldn't hold on any longer, Kofi's strength and presence kept her anchored. They struggled together through the storm, each wave a challenge to their endurance.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the storm began to wane. The lightning ceased, and the thunder became a distant rumble. The sea's ferocity diminished, leaving them in the turbulent aftermath.

Exhausted but determined, Kofi guided them through the remaining waves, his strength unwavering.

Lyra, though exhausted and shivering, clung to the small hope that the storm's end was near.

She held Callista and Alexander tightly, her heart aching for them but also grateful for the small mercies that had kept them afloat.

As the waves finally began to calm, Lyra's gaze swept over the darkened horizon, searching for any sign of land or rescue. They had survived the worst of the storm, but the night was far from over, and the journey ahead remained uncertain.

Chapter Text

The first rays of dawn filtered through the dissipating storm clouds as the survivors staggered onto the shore, each step a struggle against the weight of exhaustion.

The beach was strewn with debris, the remnants of their shattered ship scattered across the sand.

Callista and Alexander clung to Lyra, their faces pale and their eyes glazed with fatigue. The once vibrant children now looked small and fragile, their clothes drenched and clinging to their bodies.

They trudged forward, their feet sinking into the wet sand, their breathing ragged but steady. Lyra wrapped her arms around them, her own exhaustion forgotten in her determination to keep them close and safe.

Kofi, after having helped Lyra keep her siblings afloat and swim to the shore, was now catching his breath. His face was streaked with salt and grime. He collapsed onto the sand beside Lyra, his breathing heavy but controlled.

Despite the weariness etched into his features, there was a sense of quiet satisfaction in his posture, knowing he had done everything he could to protect those he appointed as people in his care.

Lyra, drenched and shivering from the cold, stumbled, her legs barely holding her upright. The relentless storm had left her drained, and her tattered clothes clung to her skin, heavy with sea water.

As she turned to help the children, her heart ached from the exhaustion and worry. Her strength had been tested to its limits, but she pushed through.

Despite her exhaustion, her focus remained solely on the safety of her siblings. Her hands trembled as she smoothed Callista’s damp hair and reassured Alexander with a gentle squeeze.

The twins, huddled together, were still too exhausted to fully comprehend their surroundings. Their tiny bodies were trembling from the cold, and their eyes were clouded with shock. They leaned into each other for support, their fingers tightly interwoven.

The ordeal had left them emotionally and physically drained, but they found solace in their closeness. Their breaths came in uneven bursts, their heads resting against one another as they tried to regain their strength.

Evios clambered onto the beach with a weary but triumphant expression. He wiped the water from his eyes, assessing the situation with a practical eye.

He took a moment to check on Kofi and Lyra, who he saw first, his usual smirk gone. He knew the storm was unnatural, and that there had to be some kind of explanation. And he knew exactly where to look for it.

Heron was the last to emerge from the water, his muscles sore and his spirit wearied from the fight and the storm. He trudged onto the sand, the fierce determination that had driven him through the battle, now tempered by a visible fatigue.

His gaze met Lyra’s, a silent exchange of relief and gratitude passing between them. He took a deep breath, letting the cool air fill his lungs as he flopped down, onto the sand, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion.

His rest didn’t last long. He heard footsteps approaching and opened his eyes, surprised to see Ismene standing over him. Her expression was as cold as ever, but she extended her hand toward him, but he saw the wicked amusement gleaming in her eyes as she looked down at his battered form.

"Need help?" she asked, but her tone was sharp and clipped, as if it pained her to offer assistance.

Heron hesitated, his pride bruised, but he took her hand, nonetheless.

"What are you doing here?" he grumbled, accepting the help as she hauled him to his feet.

"Someone has to make sure you don’t die," she replied dryly, her eyes narrowing slightly as she gave him a once-over.

"Right," Heron rolled his eyes, brushing the sand off his arms. "You care so much about keeping me alive."

Ismene snorted, folding her arms across her chest.

"Don’t flatter yourself. If I had my way, you’d be pulling your own weight. But Alexia insists you’re worth keeping around."

"Good to know where you stand," he muttered, irritated by her condescending tone.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Evios called out, spotting them from a distance.

He, Kofi, Lyra, and the twins approached the pair.

"Call us that again and I'll slit your throat," the woman growled, glaring at the man.

Evios raised his hands in mock surrender, eyeing her belt as if looking for a weapon. He found none, as she was also taken captive and disarmed, but he wisely didn't comment on it. Instead, he pointed toward the sea with a deadpan expression.

“What the hell happened back there?”

Before Lyra could even open her mouth to speak up, another, very familiar voice cut in.

“The gods have entered the fray.”

Lyra’s face brightened into a smile as she saw Elias—now known to her as Zeus—standing on the edge of a nearby hill. The twins’ faces also lit up at the sight of someone they recognized.

“Elias!” they cried in unison, rushing toward the man.

Of course, neither of them had the slightest idea about who this man really was. They weren’t there when the truth was revealed, nor have anyone told them later.

Meanwhile, Heron glared at the old man, watching as he smiled softly at the two five-years old. He let them hug him, before leading them back towards the beach.

“You,” Alexia breathed out in surprise.

“You know him?” Heron asked, glancing at the woman.

“He buried your mother,” she replied, her voice steady.

At this, Heron softened, turning his gaze back to the old man.

“Why are you here?” he demanded as Zeus approached him.

“To help,” the god in disguise said simply.

His son stepped closer, glaring at the old man.

“We don’t need your help,” he snapped before turning away.

The group watched him walk off, and Lyra sighed, shaking her head. Alexander and Callista looked confused, glancing between Heron and Elias.

“You can hate me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that you are the key to this war,” Zeus said, making Heron pause. “Let me help you.”

“Well, I’ve had enough crazy for today,” Evios declared, stepping back from the group. “Good luck with all your future endeavours.”

“You must accompany Alexia to Melidoni,” the old man said, stopping him.

“And why would I do that?” the man asked.

“To regain your honour,” the old man replied calmly, without missing a beat.

Evios’s eyes widened slightly before he quickly masked his surprise with a nonchalant shrug.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“The deal you struck, Evios,” Zeus stated.

This caught everyone’s attention. The man walked back toward the group, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the old man.

“Hey, chin beard, how do you know my name?”

“I know it, just as I know you can’t continue to be a smuggler,” Zeus said, his tone matter-of-fact.

Lyra bit back a smile. While Elias always seemed much more knowledgeable and perceptive than he seemed, now it had reached a whole new level.

Kofi and Evios exchanged glances. Meanwhile, Alexia looked towards the old man.

“Why are we going to Melidoni?” she asked.

“You must navigate the Labyrinth to find the giant remains,” Zeus explained. “It is the source of the demons’ power. Burn the remains, and the demons will fall.”

“The map was destroyed,” Alexia protested.

“Fear not. It will find you again,” Zeus said cryptically.

“We lost out honour when we were taken captive,” a man cut into the conversation and everyone turned towards him, and the small group of warriors behind him. “For Thebans, there’s only death or glory.”

“Evios, this is our chance to redeem ourselves,” Kofi turned to his companion, then glancing at the rest, he dropped his voice to a whisper. “He knows what we did.”

“If I die, it’s your fault, and I’m coming back to haunt you,” the man declared, whirling around to face his friend.

“What say you, Heron?” Zeus asked, his voice calm as he regarded his son, who was now gripping a sword and shield tightly.

Heron’s gaze hardened into a determined glare as he considered the question. After a moment’s pause, he responded.

“Can you help me kill Seraphim?”

“I can help you do much more than that,” the god replied, his eyes twinkling.

He raised his fingers to his lips and let out a sharp, piercing whistle that cut through the air.

Almost immediately, a distant, eerie screech echoed across the sky, followed by a softer, melodious howl. From behind the clouds, two majestic griffons emerged, their powerful wings beating rhythmically.

Lyra’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the creatures approach. One griffon was a striking, pure white, while the other sported a rich brown hue with darker accents.

The griffons landed gracefully on the ground, their keen eyes fixed on the old man. Zeus stepped forward, a genuine smile on his face, and began to stroke their necks, his touch tender and affectionate.

“Who’s the second one for?” Lyra asked, as she knew very well that Zeus didn’t need a griffon to fly.

“For you,” the old man answered, his knowing smile broadening. “There is someone very eager to finally meet you in person.”

Lyra’s frown deepened as she felt her siblings clutch her more tightly, their fear palpable.

“And what about Alex and Calli? Can they come too?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Zeus’s smile softened into a reassuring grin.

“Where else would they go?” he replied.

Without hesitation, Zeus took a few brisk steps forward, his form beginning to shimmer with a radiant yellow light. The transformation was swift and breathtaking as he shifted into a magnificent eagle, his wings spreading wide in an impressive display.

Gasps of awe and astonishment rippled through the group, while soft smiles spread across some faces.

The twins’ eyes sparkled with wonder as they watched the great eagle, that was a man just moments ago, soar high above them, the sky now graced by the majestic bird.

“Whoa!” Alexander's voice was filled with pure amazement as he shouted.

As Zeus climbed into the sky, the griffons approached their new riders with gentle nudges and affectionate coos. Lyra’s heart softened at the sight, and she leaned in to stroke the beak of the snow-white griffon, feeling its warm, soft feathers beneath her fingers.

Heron, his face set with determination, turned to his own griffon.

“I can take Alexander with me,” he offered. “It’ll be much more comfortable and safer for him.”

Lyra nodded in agreement, her smile widening with gratitude. She carefully lifted Alexander and helped him onto Heron's griffon, her eyes meeting Heron’s with a silent thank you.

Heron accepted the responsibility with a firm nod, his gaze softening as he looked at Alexia, who approached them. He handed her the swords and shield with a small nod.

“Until we meet again,” she said, giving him a nod back.

“Good luck,” he replied, then got onto the creature himself.

He mounted the griffon with ease, making sure Alexander was securely positioned in front of him.

Lyra and Callista were already seated on their own griffon, the creature’s powerful wings twitching in anticipation. The woman glanced over at her best friend, her expression a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

As Heron settled in, he noticed Ismene standing a few paces away, next to Alexia. Her arms were crossed, and though she made no move to approach, her gaze lingered on him for a moment, unreadable and cold as ever.

“Try not to get yourself killed,” Ismene said flatly, her voice carrying just enough edge to show she wasn’t entirely joking.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right back, to make your life harder," Heron gave her a wry smile.

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Just don’t slow us down when you get back."

Alexia, standing beside her, shot her a sideways glance but said nothing, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Ready?” Heron called out, his voice carrying over the breeze.

“Whenever you are, slowpoke,” Lyra responded with a playful grin, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

She urged her griffon to take off, its wings beating strongly against the air.

Heron chuckled, returning her grin with one of his own. He sent one last look at Ismene, who remained with Alexia and the rest, then turned his attention forward. With a powerful leap, the griffons took to the sky, their wings slicing through the air as they soared higher, leaving the ground—and Ismene—far below.

As the griffons carried Lyra, Heron, Alexander, and Callista through the sky, the world below transformed into a sprawling canvas of colours and textures.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape. Forests, rivers, and distant mountains stretched out beneath them, bathed in the warm hues of twilight.

Alexander’s eyes widened with unrestrained wonder as he clung to Heron.

“Look at all the colours, Lyra! It’s like a painting! And all those trees! They’re so tiny from up here!”

Callista clung to Lyra’s arm, that encircled her, her face pressed against the wind.

“And the rivers—they look like silver ribbons!”

Lyra glanced at her younger siblings and smiled, her heart warmed by their awe.

“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it? Just imagine what it must be like up close.”

Callista, nestled against her sister, stared down at the vast landscapes below, her eyes alight with amazement.

“It’s so big… Is this what the world really looks like?”

Lyra nodded, her gaze shifting to the figure of Zeus, now a small dot leading them through the clouds.

“It’s even more beautiful from up here, isn’t it? I think we’re seeing it like the gods do.”

As they ascended higher, the clouds began to part, revealing the majestic silhouette of Mount Olympus in the distance. A great, white palace at its peak glistened against the darkening sky, casting an ethereal glow.

As they soared, Zeus circled above them, guiding the way with an effortless grace. The wind ruffled their hair and the griffons’ powerful wings created a steady rhythm of beats that kept them soaring smoothly.

“Is that Olympus?” Alexander asked, his gaze fixed on the distant, ethereal peak that seemed to pierce the heavens.

“Yes, that’s Olympus,” Heron nodded. “The home of the gods. We’re almost there.”

“Will we meet the gods themselves?” Alexander asked, his eyes wide at the idea.

“I’m sure we will,” the man said. “And not all of them are as scary as you might think. They’re just all... very powerful.”

The griffons flew steadily towards the mountain, their powerful wings cutting through the air with ease.

The landscape shifted as they neared Olympus, the clouds parting to reveal the grandeur of the ancient citadel. Gleaming temples and palaces, shimmering with divine light, came into view.

“Wow,” Alexander breathed, “it looks like a place from a dream.”

“It’s even more incredible than I imagined,” Lyra agreed, her eyes reflecting the golden light of the mountaintop.

The closer they got, the more they noticed the commotion on one of the balconies. Countless gods were gathered there, standing in groups and chattering.

However, everything quieted down when they heard Zeus let out a screech as they approached. All eyes turned towards the sky, watching as their king landed on the balcony, followed by two griffons.

Zeus transformed into his true form. His regal presence, radiating power and authority, left Alexander and Callista stunned. In that moment, the two seemed to finally understand that the man they had known their entire lives was actually a god. The realization hit them like a wave, their eyes wide with shock.

The crowd of gods, now focused on the new arrivals, was intimidating. Their divine auras and scrutinizing gazes made Lyra feel small and out of place. She stood to the side with Callista, trying to blend into the background, her discomfort plainly visible as she tensed and looked around nervously.

As soon as Heron let Alexander down from the griffon, the boy ran over to Lyra and Callista, clutching onto his older sister for comfort. He too, was clearly uncomfortable and overwhelmed with all of this.

Meanwhile, Heron became the centre of attention. The gods started to notice the striking similarities between him and Zeus, whispers spreading through the crowd.

“Do you see this?” one of them whispered.

“Ridiculous.”

“What, can’t he keep it in his pants?”

“How dare he?”

“The seventh bastard child he’s sired.”

“Can’t even keep track of…”

“Bastard human.”

These were only few of the colourful insults threw Heron’s way. The man took a step back, taken aback by the hostility and anger directed at him, only for something he had no control over.

Then, he noticed a small group of three standing to the side. Their eyes conveyed understanding rather than judgment. They didn’t make any remarks on comments, only exchanged a look.

A god, which he quickly realised was Hermes, judging by the way he was dressed and accessories that were always said to be his symbols – the caduceus, winged sandals, his helm – approached him first. He held out his hand and it took Heron a moment to notice there wasn’t anything hostile about the gesture.

The god was simply offering a handshake, which the man accepted gratefully.

Soon, the other two gods joined them.

One of them caught Lyra's attention immediately. She had never seen Apollo in his true form before, but she knew instantly it was him because. But it wasn't because he looked like they described him in the myth. No, it was because of his very familiar eyes. They were the same golden eyes the fox had.

Besides the eyes, she was taken by his stunning beauty—Apollo was said to be the most beautiful of the gods, and now she understood why. His presence was almost overwhelming, his golden hair and radiant aura making him stand out even among the divine.

When Apollo looked at her, his eyes seemed to shine. Beside him, Artemis saw the shift in her brother and followed his gaze. She, too, saw Lyra and immediately understood why Apollo was so taken with her.

Though Lyra's beauty was of a more common kind among the mortals, there was something uniquely captivating about her. Artemis had to admit, the girl possessed a charm that set her apart.

The other gods began to notice the woman and her siblings. They were unsure how to address the presence of mere mortals on Olympus. It happened before, but the mortals invited up to their home were usually important people, not some... nobodies, from a small polis that didn't even have a name.

Their confusion and hesitation were palpable, as it was clear that both Lyra and her siblings were not of divine origin.

Apollo was the first to approach her, breaking the silence.

"It's nice to finally meet you in person," he said, his voice warm and inviting.

Lyra looked up at him, feeling a strange mix of awe and familiarity.

"Apollo," she breathed, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact, that not only she was on Olympus, meeting the gods in person, but the god before her was actually visiting her in the form of a fox.

He smiled, the same gentle look in his eyes she remembered seeing in the fox's eyes.

"Yes, in the flesh," he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Lyra's mind was still hooked on the fact, that the fox who had guided her was now revealed to be this radiant deity.

Meanwhile, Alexander and Callista, stood by her side, clearly overwhelmed by the presence of Apollo. The boy's eyes widened in awe, and the girl clung to Lyra's hand.

"You're… you're really a god?" the boy stammered, unable to tear his gaze away from Apollo.

Apollo knelt down to be more on their level, his radiant smile softening.

"Yes, I am," he said gently. "And you must be Alexander and Callista.”

The twins nodded, too stunned to speak. Lyra, sensing their unease, gave them a reassuring nod.

"It's okay," she whispered. "He's a friend."

Apollo's golden eyes twinkled, when he glanced at her, before looking back towards the two five-year-olds.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," he said warmly. "Your sister has told me a lot about you."

"Really?" Alexander finally found his voice, though it was barely a whisper.

"Yes, really," Apollo chuckled. "And I must say, you two are even more remarkable in person."

Callista blushed, her previous fear fading into a shy smile. "Thank you," she murmured.

They chatted for a moment, Apollo's presence soothing the children. He asked them simple questions about their journey and their interests, his demeanour kind and approachable.

None of them had any idea that Lyra had met him before, and she decided to keep it that way for now. She would explain it to them later, after she get any idea of what they were going to do, up here.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Hera. The queen of the gods was late, but her presence was impossible to ignore. She swept onto the balcony, her expression a mixture of fury and disdain.

“What are you doing?” the goddess snapped, looking directly at her husband.

“It’s Hera,” one of the gods gasped.

“How dare you bring that bastard on Olympus?” the queen continued.

“How dare you conspire against me?” Zeus shot back. “I don’t want a war with you.”

“Then why bring him here?” she pointed towards Heron, then towards Lyra and the twins. “And them? Why would you even let them come up? They’re nothing more than regular mortals. They have no business here.”

Apollo tensed, stepping slightly in front of Lyra as if to shield her from Hera’s ire. The goddess, however, barely spared the woman and her siblings a glance, her focus remaining on Zeus.

“Because it was the only way to make amends,” the god of thunder replied, then addressed everyone. “Everything happening on Earth is my fault. The demons. The war. None of it would have happened if it wasn’t for me.”

“You should have thought of that before you slept with that whore,” Hera sneered, her eyes flashing with anger.

Lyra glanced at her siblings. Both Alexander and Callista were watching the confrontation with wide eyes, their earlier panic slowly being replaced by curiosity and confusion.

The harsh words of the goddess seemed to wash over them, hardly noticed. They were accustomed to worse insults, having often heard such remarks directed at their sister when they accompanied her to the polis.

“I’ve wronged you,” Zeus continued, his tone softening as he stepped closer to Hera, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I swear I will never stray again. Only to you will I be true. Can you forgive me?”

The goddess of marriage seemed to consider his words for a second, before she looked back at her husband.

“Under one condition.”

“Anything,” Zeus replied without hesitation.

“His head,” she demanded, her voice cold and final as she pointed at Heron.

“That I cannot do,” the god of thunder sighed, his voice heavy with regret.

“You choose a mortal over your wife? Over us?” his wife voice was filled with betrayal and scorn.

“I choose what is right,” he said quietly, yet firmly.

“Right for you,” she retorted, her eyes narrowing, before she pointed towards the gods gathered behind her. “We will not stand for this.”

With that, she turned and walked away, her regal form radiating anger and disdain. Most of the gods followed her, their expressions varying from conflicted to resolute.

Among those who stayed behind, Lyra recognized a few from the stories – demigods, who were later turned into gods, children of Zeus, who understood all too well the complexities of their father's actions. Not once they had been subjected to Hera’s wrath for their father’s actions.

When Zeus noticed Poseidon following Hera, he spoke up.

“Be careful, brother. Only a fool would trust Hera.”

Poseidon paused and barely looked back over his shoulder.

“No. Only a fool would anger her,” he replied before continuing to follow the queen of the gods.

Hermes, who had been watching the exchange with a slight wince, stepped up to his father’s side, his expression returning to neutral. His father glanced at him, a silent understanding passing between them.

“Follow her,” the god of thunder instructed quietly.

Hermes nodded, his wings twitching slightly as he prepared to run. With a final glance at his father, he sped off after Hera, disappearing from sight.

Zeus sighed heavily, his gaze shifting from the retreating gods to those who remained, the weight of his actions pressing heavily upon him.

Apollo, standing protectively in front of Lyra, turned to her with a softer expression.

“I apologize you had to see this,” he said. “She is… Hera never takes it well, when father has affairs.”

Lyra shook her head, her hands resting on the shoulders of her siblings, who clung to her sides.

“No, that’s understandable. If I was in her place, I would probably also get mad,” she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil around her. “It’s just… a lot to take in.”

Alexander and Callista, still wide-eyed, found themselves drawn back to Apollo, and now also Artemis, who stepped up to her brother’s side. The gods seemed to sense the children's curiosity and shifted their attention to them.

“Which gods are you?” he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

The blonde chuckled.

“My name is Apollo. I am the god of the sun, music, and healing, among other things,” he told the boy. “And this is my sister, Artemis.”

He gestured to the goddess, who gave the children a nod and a small, approving smile.

"Are you really twins?" Alexander asked, his voice a mix of awe and excitement.

"Yes, we are,” the blonde smiled warmly.

Callista, gaining some confidence from her brother’s bravery, looked at Artemis with wide, curious eyes.

"Do you always stay together?"

"Not always," Artemis replied, her voice gentle. "But we are very close. We have our own domains and responsibilities, but we always look out for each other."

“You a goddess of the moon, right?” the girl asked, not sure if she remembered the story correctly.

“Yes, I am. And of the hunt,” Artemis’s smile widened, then glanced towards Lyra with a knowing flash in her eyes, before turning her attention back towards the children. “And of a few other domains. Do you like the moon, Callista?”

The little girl nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s so pretty. I always look for it at night,” then, she tilted her head, as she looked between the two gods. “What’s it like being a god?”

Artemis knelt beside her brother, smiling gently.

“It’s… different. We have responsibilities, but we also have powers that help us protect people like you.”

The goddess tapped Callista’s nose, making the child giggle.

Heron, standing beside them, watched the exchange with a mixture of amusement and relief. Lyra, who moved to stand beside him, watched the interaction with a mix of relief and gratitude.

The gods’ kindness towards her siblings eased some of her tension.

"They seem to be getting along well," the man observed quietly, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"It's good for them,” Lyra nodded, her eyes never leaving her siblings. “They need this distraction."

"They are strong, like their sister,” Zeus looked at his son and the woman, a hint of pride in his eyes.

“They are, but everyone would be shaken after what they just went through. And it seems like everything has yet to catch up with them. For now, they didn’t even have a break to process everything they saw, much less understand,” Lyra sighed. “Hell, even I didn’t fully process everything yet.”

“Calm down,” the god gave her a soft, calm smile, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You’re safe here. For the next few days, I want you to rest and regain your strength. You’ll need to be well-rested for what is to come.”

"It seems they've found kindred spirits in Apollo and Artemis,” Heron spoke up, changing the topic back to the first one.

Meanwhile, Apollo and Artemis continued to entertain the twins with stories of their exploits and the wonders of Olympus. The gods seemed genuinely amused by the children's endless stream of questions, answering each one with patience and warmth.

"Do you have any pets?" Callista asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

Artemis laughed softly.

"I have many animals that I look after in the wild. Deer are my favourite."

"And I have a chariot pulled by fiery horses," Apollo added with a grin.

"Fiery horses?" Alexander's eyes widened. "Can we see them?"

Apollo exchanged a glance with Artemis, who shrugged. They were his pets, after all. Decision was his to make. And Lyra’s, as these were her siblings, under her care.

“Perhaps another time,” he said, his eyes going towards the woman, who gave a small nod, as she didn’t see a reason to say no.

She turned to Zeus, who was observing the scene with a thoughtful expression.

“This is only the beginning. We have much to do, but for now, let them have this.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For everything.”

“You have a part to play in this, Lyra,” the god replied, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Your bravery has not gone unnoticed.”

Heron, who had been standing slightly apart, stepped closer, his eyes meeting Zeus’s.

“What now? What’s the next step?”

Zeus looked around at the remaining gods, then back to Heron.

“We must prepare for the coming battle. The demons will not wait, and neither should we.”

“What exactly do you expect from us?”

Before Zeus could respond, Apollo interjected.

“For now, rest. You’ve all been through enough for one day,” he looked at Lyra, his golden eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. “We’ll have time to discuss everything else soon.”

Lyra nodded, grateful for the reprieve.

“Thank you, Apollo.”

Chapter Text

Lyra stood at the entrance of the room assigned to her and her siblings, taking in the grandeur of the space.

The room was far more luxurious than anything they had ever known. The walls were adorned with intricate frescoes depicting various myths and legends, the floor covered with plush rugs, and the furniture made of finely crafted wood and gilded accents.

Yet, despite the beauty, a sense of emptiness loomed over her heart.

Alexander and Callista explored the room with wide-eyed wonder, momentarily distracted from the weight of their recent experiences. Lyra watched them, her heart aching with the knowledge of what she would soon have to explain.

"This place is amazing!" Alexander exclaimed, bouncing on his toes as he ran from one end of the room to the other. "Look, Lyra! There's a balcony!"

"And a big bed! We can all sleep here together!" Callista followed, giggling.

"Yes, we can," Lyra forced a smile.

She paused for a moment, trying to remember last time she slept in a bed. It must've been at least four years, ever since their parents decided that the twins could sleep on their own and placed them with Theo, not caring that it was Lyra's place. She had to find another place to sleep and ever since, she always slept in a corner, on some rags she found lying around.

She quickly shook those thoughts off, focusing on her siblings again. Those times had passed and everything changed. Their polis was destroyed, their home most likely burnt down along with the rest. For now, she decided to focus on the fact that they were on Olympus, away from the danger.

Just as Lyra focused on her siblings again, she saw Callista stop, her eyes fixed on a mural of a beautiful goddess surrounded by animals. She had no idea which goddess this might be, but she had a strong feeling it might've been Artemis. But the goddess looked different, so she wasn't so sure.

"Do you think we'll get to meet her?" the girl asked, pointing to the painting.

"Maybe, Calli," her sister gave her a weak shrug. "There are many gods and goddesses here. We might meet more of them."

The twins' excitement was palpable, a stark contrast to the heavy burden Lyra carried in her heart.

She knew she needed to find a way to talk to them about everything that had happened, but she needed to process it herself first. She took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts.

"Why don't you two play quietly for a bit?" she suggested gently. "I need to think for a moment."

Alexander and Callista exchanged a look and nodded, moving to a corner of the room where they found some toys that seemed to have been placed there just for them.

As they began to play, their laughter filled the room, offering Lyra a brief respite from her worries. She closed her eyes, taking another deep breath.

The images of the attack on their polis flashed through her mind—the chaos, the destruction, the fear. She saw her father's face, the last look of determination, quickly melting into fear and shock just before he was struck down. She remembered the screams of other people, the smoke, the feeling of utter helplessness.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back. She couldn't afford to break down, not now. Not when she had her siblings to think about, to take care of.

When everything catches up to them, when all this wonder and excitement leave them, and the negative emotion crush down on them, she had to stay strong and help them navigate through their emotions, so they wouldn't down in their sorrow and pain.

But then, she thought of their home, now most likely reduced to rubble, just like the rest of the polis. She thought of their mother, Theo, and Maris. She squeezed her eyes shut, as the wave of unwanted emotions surged within her once again.

Where were they? Were they safe? Did they get away?

The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she pushed it aside. Her priority now was Alexander and Callista. They needed to understand what had happened, but in a way that wouldn't terrify them.

She realised she couldn't wait until it naturally catches up to them, as then, it would hit them multiple times harder. Maybe if she explained everything and was immediately there to help them cope, they wouldn't be as crushed. At least she hoped it would be so. She had no idea what to feel herself, much less how to help her siblings now. But she had to try.

"Lyra?" Callista's voice broke through her thoughts.

Lyra opened her eyes and saw her sister standing in front of her, holding a small wooden horse.

"Can you play with us?"

The woman let out a shuddering sigh, then smiled weakly and nodded, pushing her own fears and grief aside for the moment.

"Of course, Calli."

She could give them a moment longer, let them enjoy the peace for a few more minutes, before she'd tell them.

She joined her siblings on the floor, playing with the toys, trying to keep the mood and the conversation light. But she knew the moment of truth was approaching quickly. After a while, she decided it was time.

"Why don't you come sit with me for a bit," she swallowed the lump in her throat. "We need to talk."

The twins exchanged curious glances but obediently followed her, before sitting down on the large bed.

Lyra took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She reminded herself she couldn't break down now, that she had to be strong for them, to help them understand and process everything that had happened.

"You remember the attack on our polis?" Lyra began, her voice gentle.

She knew that some people, especially children tended to erase some traumatic events from their memory, unable to cope or understand what was going on. But as it turned out, it wasn't a case with her siblings.

"There was a lot of noise and fire. People were screaming," Alexander nodded, his expression turning serious.

"It was scary," Callista added, wrapping her arms around herself.

Lyra hugged them both tightly.

"I know it was. And I'm so sorry you had to go through that. Our home was attacked by demons, and everything changed very quickly," she took a shaky breath. "And our home... it was destroyed in the attack. We won't be able to go back there."

"What?" Callista's eyes filled with tears. "What about Papa? And Mama? And Theo and Maris?"

Despite death being a common event, no one bothered to explain it to them. They saw their father get killed, and yet, they still couldn't grasp the concept of what it meant. And now, she had to explain it to them.

"Papa... Papa was killed. We won't see him again."

"Like, not ever?"

"At least not until it's out time to leave this world," Lyra chocked out, blinking back tears. "You remember the stories about the Underworld? Hades' kingdom?"

"That's where Papa went?" Alex asked quietly.

They knew the stories. They didn't fully understand them, but they remembered that the Underworld was the end. All of those, who entered the Underworld stayed down there, or returned very quickly. Only beings that had a chance at getting out were children of the gods of divine beings. Something their father was not.

"Yes," Lyra replied just as quietly.

Alexander's lip trembled, and he buried his face in his sister's side. Callista's tears spilled over, and she clung to the woman's arm.

"And Mama, Theo, and Maris?" the girl asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't know where they are," Lyra admitted, her heart breaking at the admission. "I hope they're safe, but I don't know for sure."

She wanted to tell them that everything would be fine - that their family is alright and alive. But she couldn't promise them that. Instead, she settled for the harsh truth, entwined with hope.

The twins cried, their small bodies shaking with the force of their sobs. Lyra held them close, her own tears finally falling as she comforted them.

"I promise you, we'll find out what happened to them. We'll do everything we can to be together again."

She rocked them gently, murmuring soothing words until their sobs subsided. They stayed like that for a long time, finding solace in each other's presence.

As the day turned into evening, Lyra managed to get the twins to lie down. They were exhausted, their little bodies finally giving in to sleep.

The woman herself sat by the window, looking out at the golden city of Olympus. The gods' realm was beautiful, but it felt foreign and overwhelming.

A soft knock on the door startled her. She opened it to find Heron standing there, his expression mirroring her exhaustion.

"How are they?" he asked quietly, glancing at the sleeping twins.

"They're asleep," Lyra replied, stepping aside to let him in. "We talked about... everything."

Heron nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at Alexander and Callista.

"They're strong, just like you."

"They have to be," Lyra managed a small smile.

"We'll get through this, Lyra," Heron placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Together."

She nodded, appreciating his presence. He nodded and stepped back.

"Get some rest. We'll figure out the next steps tomorrow."

Lyra watched him leave, then returned to her spot by the window. The events of the day replayed in her mind, but she felt a glimmer of hope.

They were on Olympus, surrounded by gods, and perhaps, just perhaps, they could find a way to make things right.

As she finally lay down beside her siblings, Lyra whispered a silent promise to herself. No matter what it took, she would protect Alexander and Callista.

Lyra lay in bed, staring at the ornate ceiling. Despite the soft blankets and the gentle glow of the moonlight streaming through the window, sleep eluded her.

Alexander and Callista were sound asleep beside her, their small faces peaceful and innocent. Lyra's mind, however, was anything but quiet. Now, that they were asleep and she had a moment to herself, her mind finally seemed to process everything. It was slow, but she could feel the whole day catching up to her.

Just a few days ago, if someone told her all of what she went through would happen to her, she'd shrug it off and call them crazy.

But it did happen and she finally had a chance to think it over and at least to try to figure out a way to move forward, how to reconnect all the broken pieces that were once her life. And most importantly - how to get her siblings to move on and not give up.

She gently slipped out of bed, careful not to wake the twins, and quietly left the room.

The corridors of Olympus were silent, save for the occasional distant murmur of voices or the soft rustle of leaves in the gardens.

Lyra wandered aimlessly, hoping the cool night air and the tranquil surroundings would help clear her mind. As she walked, she spotted a stable not far off, where a familiar figure was leading horses into their stalls.

Apollo's golden hair glowed even in the moonlight, and his presence exuded a warmth that was both comforting and intimidating. He moved with grace and ease, murmuring softly to the horses as he guided them into their stalls.

Lyra hesitated for a moment before deciding to approach him.

"They're beautiful. Are they the horses you told Alex about, earlier?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Apollo looked up, surprised but pleased to see her.

"They are," he agreed, his golden eyes catching the light. "They've served me well today."

Lyra smiled and stepped closer, reaching out as if to gently stroke one of the horses' noses.

"Can I?" she asked before she touched them, and the god nodded. "I've always admired horses. There's something so noble about them."

"They are noble creatures," Apollo nodded, watching her with interest. "Strong, loyal, and dependable. Much like people, when given the chance."

Lyra chuckled softly.

"I suppose you're right."

They stood in companionable silence for a moment, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. Apollo finished securing the last horse and then turned to Lyra, his expression more serious.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently. "You seem troubled."

Lyra sighed, leaning against the stable door.

"It's been a long, emotionally exhausting day. I had to explain to my siblings that we won't be going back home, that our father is gone, and we have no idea what happened to our mother or siblings. They're so young, and it breaks my heart to see them so scared and confused."

Apollo's eyes softened with understanding.

"That must have been incredibly difficult. I can't imagine the weight you carry on your shoulders."

"I just want to protect them, to make sure they feel safe," Lyra looked down, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the wooden door. "But it's hard when everything is so uncertain."

Apollo reached out and gently lifted her chin, making her meet his gaze.

"You're doing an amazing job, Lyra. Your siblings are lucky to have you. And you don't have to bear this burden alone. There are people here who want to help, myself included."

Lyra felt a warmth spread through her at his words.

"Thank you, Apollo. It means a lot to hear that."

"You're strong, Lyra. Stronger than you realize. And whatever comes next, you have allies here who will stand by you," he smiled, the kind of smile that seemed to light up the darkness.

Lyra felt a surge of gratitude and relief. For the first time since the attack, she felt a glimmer of hope.

"Thank you," she said again, her voice steadier this time.

Apollo gave her a reassuring nod.

"Now, how about a little distraction? These horses could use a good grooming, and I could use some company."

"I'd like that," Lyra's smile widened.

Together, they spent the next while brushing and caring for the horses, talking about everything and nothing.

Apollo shared stories of his travels and adventures, and Lyra found herself laughing and relaxing in his presence.

By the time they finished, the weight on her heart felt a little lighter.

As they walked back to the main part of Olympus, Lyra glanced at Apollo and felt a deep sense of gratitude.

"Goodnight, Lyra," Apollo said softly as they reached her room.

"Goodnight, Apollo," she replied, feeling a warmth that lingered long after she returned to her bed.

For the first time in days, she felt a sense of peace as she closed her eyes and drifted into a restful sleep.

Apollo walked away from Lyra's door, a faint smile lingering on his lips. The night had grown quiet, and the cool air felt refreshing against his skin.

As he turned a corner, he nearly collided with Hermes, who was moving at his usual brisk pace.

"Brother," Apollo greeted, recovering from the surprise. "Back from your mission already?"

Hermes grinned, taking off his helmet and hanging it over his back.

"Just finished," he nodded, falling in step with the older god. "And what about you, brother? Were you sneaking around for a midnight rendezvous?"

"Nothing quite so dramatic," Apollo chuckled, shaking his head. "Just making sure our guests are settling in."

"Oh, really?" his brother raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were just leaving Lyra's room. Should I be jealous?"

"Jealous?" the sun god laughed. "Of what, exactly?"

"Of the fact that ever since she's got there, you seem to be paying little attention to the rest of us," Hermes teased, leaning casually against the wall. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be the epitome of beauty and charm, you seem rather smitten."

"Hermes, you have the imagination of a poet," the blonde rolled his eyes, but there was a lightness to his tone. "I was simply offering her some comfort. She's been through a lot."

"Offering comfort, eh?" the younger god smirked. "Is that what we're calling it these days?"

Apollo sighed, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Yes, comfort. She's just had a very hard talk with her siblings, explaining everything that happened to them over last few days and she seemed... Broken, almost. I just wanted to help. Besides, it's not like you to pry into my affairs."

"Well, it's hard not to when you're the talk of Olympus," Hermes shot back playfully. "And I have to admit, I'm curious. She's quite the intriguing mortal."

"She is," Apollo agreed, his expression turning thoughtful. "Strong, resilient. More so than most."

"So, you do like her," the messenger god's grin widened.

His brother opened his mouth to retort, but Hermes held up a hand, his expression turning serious.

"In all honesty, Apollo, I think it's good that she has someone like you looking out for her. Just don't get too distracted. There's a lot happening right now."

"Of course," the sun god said, appreciating the shift in tone. "And speaking of which, what did you find out from Hera?"

Hermes' face darkened slightly.

"She's furious, as expected. She's rallying some of the gods against Father. She feels betrayed, and she's not going to let this go easily."

Apollo nodded, his playful demeanour giving way to concern. It wasn't unusual for Hera to get mad at Zeus after finding out about his affair, but it wasn't common for her to actually rally gods against him.

"That's troubling."

"I knows," Hermes replied. "I need to report back to him. But don't think this conversation is over, dear brother. We'll have to talk more about your mortal 'friend'."

"Get out of here," Apollo chuckled, shaking his head as Hermes turned to leave.

Hermes waved a hand dismissively as he walked away.

"See you around, Apollo. And remember, secrets don't stay secret for long around here."

Apollo watched his brother disappear down the corridor, a mixture of amusement and apprehension lingering in his mind.

He sighed and turned back toward his own quarters, knowing that the days ahead would be anything but easy.

Heron and Lyra stood in the training ground, both facing a formidable robotic warrior designed by Hephaestus. The automaton's eyes glowed with a relentless intensity, ready to engage them in combat.

The man wielded a sword, his stance aggressive, while the woman held a shorter blade, clearly more comfortable with ranged weapons. Her moves were much clumsier than usually.

Zeus stood to the side, observing their every move. His eyes were sharp, taking in every mistake, every misstep.

He knew they needed this training to stand a chance against the mythical beings they would face, but he also saw their frustration and anger clouding their judgment.

"Focus, Heron!" Zeus barked as Heron lunged at the robot with reckless abandon, leaving himself exposed.

The automaton easily deflected his attack and knocked him back, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Lyra, meanwhile, was trying to find an opening, but her movements were jerky and uncoordinated. She swung at the robot, but it dodged effortlessly and countered with a powerful strike that she barely managed to dodge.

Apollo and Artemis watched from a balcony above, concern etched on their faces. Hephaestus stood beside them, arms crossed as he observed the training session.

"This isn't working," Artemis said, shaking her head. "They're too emotional, too reckless."

"They need to calm down," Apollo agreed. "They can't fight like this."

Down below, Zeus deflected a blow from the robot, which was about to hit Lyra, sending it crashing to the ground.

"Again!" he barked at Heron and Lyra. "You need to control your anger. Use it, don't let it use you."

"These aren't like anything we've fought before," Lyra growled, narrowly dodging a strike from the robot's massive arm. "How are we supposed to win against this?"

"You must adapt," the god replied sternly. "Use your skills, your wits. These opponents will not yield to brute force alone."

As the training session continued, it became clear that neither of them was making much progress. They were both consumed by their recent trauma, their anger and grief hindering their ability to fight effectively.

"Enough," Zeus said, stepping in to stop the fight. "This isn't working. You both need to find your centre. Your anger will only get you killed."

Lyra and Heron stood side by side, panting and drenched in sweat as they listened to him. Suddenly, a voice interrupted from the sidelines.

"Father, may I suggest a different approach for Lyra?"

Zeus turned to see Apollo and Artemis standing nearby, both looking composed and confident. The sun god stepped forward, his golden eyes meeting his father's.

"Lyra is a natural with the bow. She has the instincts of a hunter. Perhaps it's time to train her in a way that complements her strengths."

Artemis nodded in agreement.

"Let us work with her," the goddess continued for her brother. "She will benefit more from archery than hand-to-hand combat."

"She needs to be versatile. Close range combat is crucial," Zeus hesitated, looking between Lyra and his children.

"True," the blonde agreed. "But she will be more effective if she specializes. We can still train her in close combat as needed, but let us focus on her strengths first."

Lyra glanced at Heron, who was catching his breath. He gave her an encouraging nod.

"Go ahead. You're already really good with the bow. You'll be unstoppable with Apollo and Artemis training you."

"I like that idea," she shrugged, then turned to glance at Zeus. "If that's okay with you?"

Zeus sighed, weighing the options before nodding.

"Very well. Apollo, Artemis, she's yours. But make sure she's prepared for all kinds of combat."

"Thank you, Father," Apollo gave a satisfied nod and motioned for Lyra to follow.

As Heron resumed his battle with the robot, now on his own, Lyra walked with Apollo and Artemis to a quieter part of the arena. Apollo handed her a finely crafted bow, its wood polished and perfectly balanced.

"Let's see what you can do," Apollo said, his tone encouraging.

She vaguely heard Zeus shout at Heron in the distance. Instead, she focused on the task at hand. She nocked an arrow and drew the bowstring back, aiming at the nearest target. Her first shot went wide, missing the target completely. She clenched her jaw in frustration.

"Calm down," Artemis said gently. "Focus on your breathing."

Lyra tried again, but her shots continued to miss. Each miss only fuelled her frustration further until, finally, after multiple failed attempts, she let out an exasperated scream and threw the bow to the ground.

"This is pointless!"

"It's okay," Apollo said calmly, picking up the bow and handing it back to her. "Try again. Just like Artemis said, focus on your breathing. In and out."

Lyra took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She nocked another arrow, but saw that her hand was shaking too much. She couldn't even take aim properly.

"I can't do this," she muttered, lowering the bow. "I'm not good enough."

"You are," the goddess of the hunt insisted. "But not while you're this angry. You need to let go of whatever is holding you back."

Lyra shook her head, tears of frustration welling up in her eyes.

"I can't," she whispered, before turning and storming off, leaving the bow behind.

Apollo watched her go, a concerned look on his face.

"Enough!" they heard Zeus shout.

They watched as he walked over to Heron, who glared first at the mechanical warrior, then at their father. The god simply stared back.

"Your anger is unyielding," he declared. "You rely on it. You turn to it. You think it gives you strength."

As Zeus said these words, Heron couldn't help but scowl. They reminded him of Seraphim's words. 'Your eyes are full of hate. That's good. Hate keeps a man alive. Gives him strength.' And no matter how much Heron wished to protest, this monster was right.

He felt more power while relying on his anger and hatred. This pushed him forward.

And it worked ever since he could remember – each time he got into a fight, his anger and hurt towards the people who mocked and attacked him always got him out of the situations alive. But this time, it might not be the case.

"But you don't know what real strength is," the thunder god said, as his eyes glowed and he released a lightning on the robot behind him.

Heron's jaw clenched as he watched the machine explode. Easy for him to say. The man was just that – a man, mortal, weak in the eyes of the gods. And while Zeus might call him a demigod, a son, Heron was still the same person he was his whole life – a moral man with no real strength.

The only strength he knew came from anger and hatred. And how, the god was telling him to let it simply go, stop relying on it. For Heron, this was simply impossible.

Instead of replying, he scoffed and turned his back on his father. As he walked away, he couldn't stop the groan that wanted to tear out of his throat. It was a sound full of frustration and anger, that made both Artemis and Apollo exchange a look.

The two gods moved back onto the balcony, where Hephaestus stayed just after Lyra left the arena. Soon enough, Zeus joined them. With a sigh, he leaned against the railing.

"I might have been wrong about them," he said.

"Well, you won't know training them like that," Hephaestus shrugged. "How does that help someone let go of their anger?"

"They need to learn. Quickly."

"No, what he needs is a father," the blacksmith god looked towards the older god. "As for her, I'd say she simply needs time, but she doesn't have that kind of luxury. So instead, I think she just needs someone to be there for her, help her with her siblings and to navigate through her own grief and feelings."

Saying the second part, he sent Apollo a pointed look. It was no secret that the sun god was enchanted by the woman and wanted to help. But the thing was, he didn't know how.

Lyra sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the walls of her room, which felt more like a prison than a sanctuary.

Her mind replayed the events of the day over and over again, each failure in the training session gnawing at her confidence. The weight of her new reality pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe.

She was supposed to be strong for Alexander and Callista, but how could she protect them when she could barely hold her own against a mechanical opponent?

Then, her mind turned towards her siblings. Hermes volunteered to take care of them during her training. Speaking of which, she should probably go and collect them. After all, the god was busy and surely had better things to do than look after two five-years-old.

A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She hesitated for a moment before getting up to open it. She half-expected it to be Hermes, to return the kids.

However, to her surprise, standing there was Apollo, his presence radiating warmth and calm.

"May I come in?" he asked gently, his golden eyes filled with concern.

Lyra hesitated only for a second, before she nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. He moved with a grace that was almost otherworldly, yet there was a genuine kindness in his demeanour that put her at ease.

Apollo took a seat on a nearby chair, giving her space to sit back down on the bed.

"I wanted to check on you," he said. "Today was... a lot."

Lyra sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping. It was almost as if all the strength she forced herself to show suddenly just... disappeared, replaced by tiredness and fatigue.

"It was," she nodded weakly. "I just feel so... helpless. I'm not used to feeling this way."

"I understand," the god nodded. "But you know you don't have to go through this alone, right? We're here to help you, not just train you."

"But how?" Lyra looked at him, searching his eyes for sincerity. "How can you help me when I can't even help myself?"

Apollo leaned forward, his gaze steady and sincere.

"By being here," he replied without missing a beat. "By listening. By giving you space to process everything at your own pace."

Lyra felt a lump form in her throat. She looked away, blinking back tears.

"I appreciate that. I really do. It's just... hard," she took a deep breath, before glancing towards him. "Besides, don't you have better things to do than check up on me? I already feel bad enough for leaving the kids with Hermes, when he has-."

"I'm going to stop you right here," Apollo cut in and reached out, gently taking her hand.

His touch was warm and comforting. He gently ran his thumb over her knuckles.

"I know this is hard, probably a lot harder than you first thought it would be," he said. "But you're stronger than you think. And with time, you'll see that strength for yourself. As for Hermes, he doesn't mind. If he did, he would just say so. Believe it or not, he loves taking care of others, especially kids."

She nodded weakly. For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day's events slowly easing.

Lyra found comfort in Apollo's presence. With everything changing so suddenly so quickly, his steady demeanour offering a sense of stability that she desperately needed in that moment.

"You know, I see a lot of potential in you," the god began after a while. "Not just as a warrior, but as a person. You've been through so much, yet you still stand strong. That takes a kind of courage that many lack."

"I don't feel very courageous," the woman gave a small, rueful smile. "Most of the time, I'm just trying to keep it together for Alex and Callista."

"And that's exactly why you're so strong," he countered gently. "You keep going, not just for yourself but for those you love. That's the true essence of bravery."

She looked into his eyes, finding a depth of understanding there that surprised her.

"It's just... there's so much to process. The attack on the polis, losing our father, not knowing what happened to our mother or Theo or Maris... It's overwhelming."

Apollo nodded sympathetically.

"It is. And it's okay to feel overwhelmed. It's okay to be angry and frustrated. But you don't have to carry that burden alone. We're here to support you."

Lyra took a deep breath, feeling a bit of the tension ease from her shoulders.

"Thank you, Apollo. I... I needed to hear that."

He smiled warmly.

"Anytime. And if you ever need to talk, or just someone to sit with you in silence, I'm here."

They talked for a while longer, the conversation flowing easily. Apollo shared stories of his own experiences, both as a god and in his various adventures. Lyra found herself laughing for the first time in what felt like ages, the sound almost foreign to her ears but incredibly liberating.

"You know," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "I have a feeling you're going to be an incredible archer. Maybe even give me and maybe even Artemis a run for our money."

"I doubt that," Lyra chuckled, shaking her head. "But thank you for the vote of confidence."

"It's not just confidence," Apollo replied seriously. "It's belief. I believe in you, Lyra."

She felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words.

"I'll try not to let you down."

"You could never let me down," Apollo said softly. "Just keep being yourself, and you'll do more than you ever thought possible."

As the night wore on, Apollo eventually rose to leave, sensing that Lyra needed rest.

"I'll let you get some sleep. Remember, we're all here for you. And tomorrow is a new day, a new opportunity."

Lyra stood and walked him to the door.

"Thank you, Apollo. For everything."

He smiled, a genuine, heartwarming smile that made her feel lighter.

"Goodnight, Lyra."

"Goodnight, Apollo."

As he walked away, Lyra closed the door and leaned against it, a sense of hope and determination settling over her. She wasn't alone in this.

Chapter Text

After storming off the arena, Heron sought a quiet, peaceful spot to cool down and gather his thoughts. He stumbled upon a secluded garden that, in a strange way, reminded him of his polis. But the stark contrast was evident.

While the polis thrived with life, laughter, and constant activity, this place was serene and empty, the only sounds being the gentle rustling of the wind and the soft trickle of a fountain nearby.

He sat on a marble bench, its cold surface grounding him amidst his turbulent thoughts.

The sheer size of everything around him made him feel small and insignificant. This was another difference from his polis—there, he was one of the tallest people, and things seemed smaller in comparison. Here, everything felt overwhelming.

He glanced at the bandage on his wrist, a piece of cloth he wrapped around it after cutting himself on a sharp stone in the mine. He began to unwrap and rewrap it on his wrist, a mindless activity that provided a sliver of comfort.

He was so lost in his thoughts, that he didn’t notice approaching god.

“How are you doing?” Zeus asked, stopping a few feet away.

The man just glared at him in response. He didn’t need another lecture at the moment.

“I’m fine,” he muttered through gritted teeth, focusing on his bandage.

Zeus stood awkwardly, glancing around as if seeking divine guidance on how to proceed. His instincts told him to comfort Heron, but he felt uncertain. He never had someone to take care of him like this, thus he had no idea how to take care of someone in that way.

Hephaestus’s words echoed in his mind – he needs a father. But how to be a father, when he had never taken on the role of one. It were the mothers that raised his children.

So, he turned around and took a few steps away, but something within him, perhaps a nascent paternal instinct, made him stop.

“I’m trying,” Zeus said quietly. “But I don’t know how to do this. I never really knew my father.”

Heron looked up, surprised by the god’s admission. The god stood with his back to him, taking a deep breath as if gathering the courage to continue.

“He didn’t raise me,” Zeus continued, his voice tinged with old wounds. “He wanted me dead. And when I finally met him, I had to kill him… to save my siblings.”

Heron’s anger faltered, replaced by a tentative curiosity. He remembered Zeus’s tale of patricide, a necessity to overthrow the tyrannical Cronus and save his siblings.

“That’s not an excuse,” the god added, his tone softening, “it’s just that… I’ve been a great many things in my life. But a father was never one of them.”

The weight of Zeus’s words hung in the air. When Heron looked at him, he didn’t see a god, but a flawed being, struggling with roles and responsibilities thrust upon him. His father straightened, trying to regain his usual authoritative demeanour.

“Rest up,” he instructed. “We start again in the morning.”

As Zeus walked away, Heron sat quietly, the anger within him simmering down. For the first time, he saw a glimpse of the man behind the god—a being as lost and uncertain as he was.

The gods’ struggles mirrored those of mortals, bound by emotions and histories that even divine power could not easily resolve.

After his talk with Zeus, Heron felt a mix of frustration and understanding churning within him. Deciding he needed to find Lyra, he stood up and made his way through the serene garden paths.

As he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with Hermes, who was leaning casually against a column, watching Alexander and Callista play nearby.

"Whoa there, brother," Hermes greeted with a small smile, steadying Heron with a hand on his shoulder. "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better,” Heron sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Just had a… talk with Zeus."

The god raised a brow and smirked.

"I can imagine how that went. He's not the easiest to talk to, even on a good day,” he shook his head with a quiet chuckle. "Anyways, where are you rushing off to?"

"I was looking for Lyra. Just needed to talk."

The god nodded, his eyes sparkling slightly as he once again glanced towards the kids.

"She's with Apollo, right now. He wanted to check up on her, I think," he shrugged, then gestured towards the twins, who were chasing each other around a small fountain. "Meanwhile, I've been keeping an eye on these two."

Heron’s gaze followed Hermes’ gesture. Alexander and Callista were playing a simple game, but their movements lacked the usual enthusiasm. Their laughter was muted, and their eyes held a weariness that shouldn’t belong to anyone so young.

"It's been a while since I’ve seen children this lifeless," Hermes remarked, echoing Heron's thoughts. "They try to play and run around, but it’s like their energy’s been sucked out of them. They're just going through the motions."

"It's probably because of everything that's happened,” Heron nodded, his heart aching for the twins. “Even though they’re too young to fully process it, they're still affected. They've lost their home, their father, and everything familiar. It's a lot for anyone to handle, let alone two kids."

Hermes sighed, leaning back against a column.

"They're strong, though. Kids are resilient. They'll bounce back, given time and a bit of normalcy. But it’s going to take a while."

"I hope so," Heron said, his voice tinged with sadness. "They used to be so full of life. It’s hard seeing them like this."

"It’s tough," the god agreed with a shrug, then looked at his brother and a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. "But they’ve got you and Lyra looking out for them. And now, they've got us too. We’ll help them through this."

"Thanks, Hermes. That means a lot," Heron managed a small smile.

Hermes' small smile turned into a grin, his usual mischievous glint returning to his eyes.

"Hey, we're family, right? We've got to stick together. Besides, it’s been too long since I’ve had some kids to look after. Keeps things interesting."

Heron chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders a bit.

"I guess you're right about that. Thanks for keeping an eye on them."

"No problem," Hermes replied. "If you ever need a break, just let me know. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve to keep them entertained."

"I’ll keep that in mind,” Heron smiled more genuinely this time. "You know, it's strange. I always thought of the gods as distant, powerful beings. But seeing you here, watching over them, it's… different."

"We're not so different from you mortals, Heron. We have our own struggles, our own joys and sorrows,” Hermes chuckled. "We just live a lot longer and have a bit more… flair."

Heron smiled at that, feeling a bit of the tension ease from his shoulders.

“I suppose that’s true. It’s just... everything’s happening so fast. One moment I’m a nobody, just trying to scrape by, and the next I’m fighting demons and discovering I’m the son of Zeus.”

Hermes smile softened a bit, and he put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

"It's a lot to take in. Trust me, I’ve seen many heroes lose their way because of similar events. But so far, you’ve been doing better than most of them."

As Hermes returned his attention to the twins, Heron felt a renewed sense of hope. They weren’t alone in this. They had allies, family, and gods willing to help them navigate this chaotic new world.

Heron guided the sleepy Alexander and Callista back towards Lyra’s room. The twins were barely keeping their eyes open, their steps slowing as exhaustion took over.

He chuckled as Callista yawned widely, nearly tripping over her own feet in exhaustion. When it happened for the third time, he picked the girl up. She instantly wrapped her arms around his neck and tucked her head into his shoulder.

As they approached, he noticed Apollo walking away from Lyra's door, his expression soft and thoughtful.

"Hey," Heron greeted him quietly.

"Hey there. Taking the little ones back?"

"Yeah, they’re just about done for the day,” Heron nodded, glancing down at the drowsy children.

Apollo smiled, looking down at Alexander and Callista with a fond expression.

"Lyra’s already asleep. She was exhausted."

"You seem to be spending a lot of time with her,” the man raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on his lips. “Not that I’m complaining. She needs someone looking out for her."

“She needs all of the support she can get right now. I’m happy to provide it."

Heron chuckled softly.

"I’m glad she has someone looking out for her. She deserves that."

"She’s strong, but everyone needs someone sometimes," Apollo’s expression softened.

“That they do,” his brother nodded, appreciating the god’s sentiment. "Thanks for that. I’ll take these two inside. They’re practically asleep on their feet."

He gave Callista more pointed look.

Apollo nodded and continued on his way as Heron guided the twins into the room. Lyra was indeed fast asleep on one of the beds, her face relaxed in slumber.

Alexander and Callista immediately moved to the empty bed, but just as Heron was about to leave, Alexander tugged at his chiton.

"Stay, Heron. Please. Until we fall asleep," the boy mumbled, his eyes already closing.

"Alright, little man. I’ll stay," the man smiled softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

As the twins settled down, their breathing evened out almost immediately. Heron leaned back against the headboard, his eyes growing heavy.

He thought back to the sleepovers he used to have with Lyra when they were little, huddled together under blankets, whispering stories until they fell asleep.

Those were simpler times. Times when their biggest worry was sneaking an extra cookie without getting caught. Now, everything had changed so dramatically, and yet, in this quiet moment, it felt a little like those nights again.

Heron’s eyes fluttered shut, the warmth of the twins beside him bringing a sense of peace. Despite the chaos and uncertainty, he knew they had each other. And as he drifted off to sleep, he held onto that thought, letting it comfort him in the darkness.

In one of the grand halls of Olympus, some of the gods that stayed gathered for an informal meeting. They wouldn't call this a party, as there were too few of them and the atmosphere was a bit more muted and depressed than usually, but it was still relaxed, with laughter and conversation flowing as freely as the wine from Dionysus's amphora.

Nymphs flitted about, refilling cups and attending to the gods.

"Well, who would have thought? Another demigod sibling. Seems like our father’s been quite busy," Dionysus said.

"Heron seems strong, but he’s clearly troubled by all that’s happened," Athena mused.

"That’s an understatement," Artemis said, her eyes narrowing. "He's driven by anger. It's going to be hard for him to overcome that."

"He has a good heart. I can feel it. And Lyra… She has endured so much,” Hestia shook her head. "They will need time and guidance."

"Ah, yes, Lyra. She seems to have caught someone's eye," Artemis glanced at her twin brother, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Apollo, who had been quietly sipping his wine, looked up, meeting his sister's gaze with a playful smirk as he raised his cup in mock toast, but remained silent.

"I've been watching the little ones,” Hermes chimed in. “While it might seem otherwise, they're still quite lively, despite everything. Makes you realize what they’ve gone through hasn’t completely crushed them."

There was a second of silence, nymphs once again refilling Dionysus' goblet. As soon as it was filled again, the god raised it in a toast.

"To Heron, may he survive our father's training,” he smirked.

The rest shared his smile and also raised their cups, clinked them together, the sound echoing through the hall. As the night wore on, nymphs continued to attend to the gods, some offering to walk them back to their rooms.

One of them, a beautiful nymph with deep purple hair, approached Apollo with a coy smile, her intentions clear.

"Would you like me to walk you back, my lord?"

Apollo mostly accepted such offers without hesitation, enjoying the fleeting company of the nymphs and other gods. Usually, he left these kind of meetings, and parties with not one, but multiple partners. But tonight, he shook his head, a soft smile on his lips.

"Not tonight. Thank you,” he declined.

The nymph blinked, taken aback, but nodded gracefully before moving away. The other gods exchanged glances, their amusement evident.

"Well, well," Hermes said with a teasing grin. "That’s unusual. Apollo, rejecting a beautiful nymph? Feeling celibate all of a sudden?"

Apollo rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t hide the slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Is there something you’re not telling us, dear brother?" Artemis chuckled, nudging her twin.

"It’s nothing,” he waved her off. “I just… I’m not in the mood right now."

As he stood and stretched, the nymphs around the table exchanged puzzled glances, and the gods watched him with newfound curiosity as he walked away alone.

"I never thought I'd see the day. The sun god, turning down an offer from a nymph,” Hermes grinned, shaking his head.

Artemis leaned back, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Lyra," she said simply.

Athena nodded, a knowing glint in her eyes.

"She has certainly made an impression on him,” the goddess chuckled. "It seems our dear brother might be smitten. Who would have thought?"

"Do you think our dear Apollo is finally settling down? Or at least, settling for a while?" Hermes mused, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "You know, I think he might actually be serious about her.”

"Seems like it," Artemis agreed. "Let’s hope it works out for them."

"Perhaps it’s time he found someone who truly matters to him,” Athena mused. “Someone worth more than a fleeting moment."

"Love can change even the most steadfast of hearts. Perhaps Lyra is the catalyst Apollo needs,” Hestia smiled softly.

"To Apollo and Lyra, then," Dionysus toasted, raising his cup once more. "May they find happiness together."

The gods continued their banter, each adding their own light-hearted jabs and observations about Apollo's sudden change in behaviour. They were a family, after all, and teasing each other was part of their dynamic.

Yet beneath the jokes, there was genuine curiosity and a hint of hope. If anyone could soften Apollo’s heart, it would be someone as strong and kind as Lyra.

Just like Zeus promised, when the morning came, Heron and Lyra were back at the arena. Apollo immediately took the woman aside, towards the targets prepared for their practice.

Meanwhile, Heron attacked the mechanical warrior, same as yesterday. His main motivator still seemed to he rage and hatred, but at the same time he seemed to not rely on them so much. This time, his movements seemed a bit more controlled, not forced by pure, blind anger.

However, that didn’t mean he did better than yesterday. No, the robot still threw him around and knocked him down whether it saw a chance.

It wasn’t until countless lost spars later, than Zeus ordered a stop.

“Enough!” the god’s voice cut through the air, stopping all movement.

Heron watched with wide eyes as the spear, just about to hit him in the face, stopped millimetres away. The warrior returned to it’s basic stance, standing up straight, weapon by its side.

The man stumbled and fell down. He ripped the helmet off his face and threw it onto the ground.

Lyra and Apollo, who started their break a few minutes earlier, after the god showed her a few useful moves with a sword, watched the two.

“Heron! Let your anger go! Turn inward,” the thunderer repeated for the umpteenth time.

“I can’t!” the demigod snapped back.

“Then there’s nothing I can do for you,” Zeus declared, his tone final.

For a moment, the god lingered, ready to walk away. But a small, vulnerable voice stopped him in his tracks.

“How could you let her die?” the man asked, his eyes wide with a desperate need for answers.

The god’s eyes widened in response. He looked down at his son, searching for the right words. The vulnerability in those eyes made him answer, despite knowing no words could truly ease the pain.

“Even I… at times… am powerless,” he admitted, looking away. “We’re not infallible.”

The demigod stood up, his hands trembling slightly as he stepped closer to his father, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and confusion.

“How could you let Seraphim live?” he asked.

Zeus met his gaze, his expression softening.

“Your mother wouldn’t want me to kill him,” he declared. “Because… Seraphim is her son, too.”

The revelation struck like a bolt of lightning. Heron’s eyes widened. All this time, he thought he was alone. That it was only him and his mother. And now, in such a short amount of time, not only did he find out that his father was a god, but he also had a brother.

“Your half-brother,” Zeus continued. “What little of her that is left in this world… lives in him. And you.”

The demigod’s mind raced, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and anger. Lyra watched him, her heart aching for the man she saw as a brother, her own feelings of helplessness mirroring his.

“Heron?” she spoke up softly, stepping towards him.

“I… I just need a moment,” he whispered, and walked to the side of the arena.

There, he slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands. Lyra followed him, her steps tentative but determined. She knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

The gods watched as Heron nodded at something Lyra said to him, though his eyes remained distant, lost in the storm of emotions swirling within him.

The thunder god looked at his children—one by blood, the other by choice—and saw the path ahead would be long and arduous. But perhaps, just perhaps, there was still hope.

After everyone had a chance to calm down, the training resumed with renewed focus.

Heron stood in the centre of the arena, facing the mechanical warrior once more. His anger was still present, but he forced himself to breathe deeply, trying to find the control he needed.

Meanwhile, Lyra returned to her position at the archery targets. Apollo stood beside her, offering quiet encouragement as she nocked an arrow and drew her bow.

Heron launched himself at the robot, his movements initially erratic and driven by frustration.

He took a deep breath, recalling Zeus's advice. Slowly, his strikes became more precise, his footwork more measured. Soon enough, he found a rhythm, his anger replaced by a fierce determination.

Taking a moment, he observed his enemy and he noticed there was a place, unguarded by the armour, where he could stick his sword. So, he took the chance. He braced himself as another hit came, then returned the favour.

Sticking his sword into the small crack, where the mechanism was visible, he caused enough damage for the mechanical warrior to stumble.

Then, he took a few steps back, before running towards his opponent and with all his might, he pushed the sword with his shield, making it sink deeper. It struck the robot's core, causing it to explode in a shower of sparks and metal.

Heron kneeled on the ground, panting, a victorious smile softly spreading across his face as he glanced towards his father. The god nodded, satisfied.

“Well done.”

Lyra, inspired by Heron's success, focused on her own task. She drew back her bowstring, aiming carefully at the targets before her.

One by one, her arrows flew straight and true, each hitting the bullseye with perfect precision. She lowered her bow, a satisfied smile on her lips as she glanced at Apollo, who nodded in approval.
Just then, Hermes arrived, his expression serious. He sent a nod towards everyone gathered, before turning to face Zeus.

“Father, a word.”

The two stepped to the side, but the others followed. They wanted to know what message Hermes had for the god of thunder.

“Hera and the others have fled to the Underworld.”

“And is my brother conspiring with her?” Zeus raised a brow.

“No. Hades remains neutral. But he said that any god who wishes may take refuge there. It’s only a matter of time. War is inventible.”

Heron and Lyra exchanged worried glances, while Zeus and Apollo looked grim. This was exactly what they feared.

As they absorbed the news, a small, bright blue spider with pink markings appeared on Heron's hand. Instinctively, he raised his other hand to crush it, but Hermes quickly stopped him.

"Wait.”

At the same moment, an identical spider appeared on Lyra's shoulder. She tensed but made no move to brush it away. Instead, she allowed it to remain, sensing its significance, as well as having just heard Hermes' command.

Just seconds later, both spiders turned into threads, swept away by the wind.

The gods exchanged knowing looks. The presence of the spiders was a clear sign.

“The Fates are calling…” Hermes said. “For Heron and Lyra.”

Soon enough, they arrived at the temple where the Fates lived. Zeus and Apollo, who insisted on escorting them, walked beside Heron and Lyra. The woman marvelled at the scene – the trees along the path seemed to age, wither, and renew in a continuous cycle.

When they stopped in front of the temple, Heron broke the silence.

“Can you undo what’s been done to Seraphim?” he asked Zeus.

“I can,” the god of thunder nodded. “But it must be his choice.”

Suddenly, they heard rumbling and seconds later, the massive doors creaked open.

“You must go alone,” Zeus told the two. “We can't come with you.”

Before they could respond, echoing voices from within called their names. Both Heron and Lyra exchanged a look, then nodded and walked inside the temple.

As the doors closed behind them, they were enveloped in darkness, but noticed a very faint glow deeper in the temple.

As they moved deeper, the glow intensified, leading them to a grand room filled with countless threads and scuttling spiders, the same as the ones that appeared while they were on the arena.

“Come closer. We won't bite,” a female voice called out.

“Unless you want us to,” an older voice added.

Three goddesses chuckled, and Heron squinted, trying to locate them. Beside him, Lyra did the same, but she could only see the darkness, barely illuminated by pale blue light from the threads around them.

“You wanted to see us?” the man asked.

“We want to help you,” Atropos said, appearing on a balcony above.

“But we sense doubt,” Clotho continued, her gaze fixed on Heron.

“Why?” Lachesis asked.

“I never believed in fate,” the man answered.

“What do you believe in?” the eldest sister asked, appearing behind the pair.

“Free will.”

“Free will and fate…” the youngest started.

“Coexist,” the middle Fate finished.

“How?” Heron asked.

“Imagine a baby crawling across a table,” Atropos said, as she conjured up an image of the said baby and the table.

“If the baby continues, it will fall,” Lachesis continued.

“That's clear to you long before it is to the child,” Clotho finished. “You have foresight, while the baby does not.”

She pointed towards the imaginary baby, that fell of the table. Lyra instinctively reached out to catch it, but the youngest Fate beat her to it, holding the image gently. The goddess sent the woman a small smile.

“But that doesn't mean you've taken the baby's free will,” she finished their explanation, as she made the conjured images disappear.

And while the explanation might seem somewhat complicated, Lyra quickly understood what the Fates were getting at – the baby made the choice when it continued to crawl and that led to it falling off the table. It could choose to stop, but it didn’t see a reason to do so, as it didn't know what it would lead to. It does not have the foresight, she thought, Just like the Fates said.

This also made Lyra realise that the fate was not set in stone, unlike she always believed. It helped her realise how it could always change depending on the choices that the person made.

“What are you weaving?” the woman asked, looking around.

“The paths that lay before each man,” Clotho replied.

“You're the children, and we are the ones with the foresight,” Lachesis said with a smile.

Then, her eyes changed and she pointed towards her oldest sister.

“This… is your thread,” Atropos said, looking at Heron, then pointed towards the middle Fate.

“And this one, is yours,” Clotho told Lyra.

Both approached their threads, and after a brief, shared glance, they gripped them. Instantly, they were thrust back in time, witnessing their younger selves, experiencing both joyous and painful moments. Just as quickly as it started, it ended, as both of them let go of their threads.

When the Fates remained silent, the pair understood that they wanted them to see everything that led them to this moment. And so they did. They watched the most important moments of their lives in quick flashes.

When they got to the present, that was the moment that the Fates decided to speak up.

“What you do in the coming days will affect many,” Lachesis said, as the three goddesses looked at Heron.

“More than you could have ever imagined,” Atropos continued.

“The fate of the world rests in your hands, Heron,” the youngest finished.

“To succeed, you must harness your divine strength,” Clotho finished.

“Aren't you going to…” the youngest started, but the middle cut her off.

“Tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Heron demanded.

“You now approach a crossroad,” the oldest of the fates told him.

“In fact, both of you do,” Clotho said, glancing at Lyra. “But yours is much nearer than hers.”

Both mortals followed their own threads and they found out that they were in fact splitting into two. Without hesitation Heron grabbed onto his thread, but Lyra hesitated.

“Aren’t you going to see what awaits you?” Atropos asked, looking at the woman, who stepped away from her thread.

She shook her head.

“As much as I want to, I believe that my destiny should not be tempered with,” Lyra said, even though everything inside her screamed, wanting to know.

Lachesis tilted her head, as she watched the mortal.

“I believe that seeing this crossroad will only result in me making the decision that would have worse consequences,” the woman shrugged. “That the stress of making it would affect my thinking process and it won’t end well.”

“Very well,” Clotho nodded.

Just then, Heron gasped as he let go of the string.

“Alexia and the others. The Fields of the Dead,” he breathed out. “They… they need my help. Will they die?”

“The future is in constant motion,” Atropos declared.

“Outcomes are always in flux,” Clotho added.

“Yes or no?” Heron growled.

The look on Lachesis’ face told him everything he needed to know.

As the heavy temple doors groaned shut behind them, Heron burst out into the daylight, his face set with grim determination.

Lyra followed more slowly, her thoughts swirling in a tempest of doubt and regret. She wondered if she had made a mistake by not peering into the future choices and their potential outcomes.

“What did they say?” Zeus asked, as soon as he saw Heron.

However, when the young man didn’t stop, he frowned.

“Where are you going?” he called after his son.

Heron stopped abruptly, his breath coming in sharp bursts. He turned to face his father, his eyes blazing with urgency.

“My friends need me.”

“The world needs you,” the god countered, his voice firm but edged with concern.

“If I don’t go, they’ll die,” his son retorted, frustration evident in his tone.

“You’re not ready,” Zeus said, his voice softer now, though still insistent.

Heron’s shoulders tensed, and he stopped, facing his father fully.

“I don’t have time to wait,” he said, his voice carrying a mix of desperation and resolve. “If I don’t act now, it might be too late.”

Lyra, standing a few steps behind, caught the tail end of the conversation. Her heart ached as she looked at Heron. She knew she couldn’t let him go alone.

Apollo, who had been watching silently, stepped forward, looked at Lyra with questioning eyes as she approached them.

“Where are you going, Lyra?” he asked, concern etched across his face. “It’s dangerous out there.”

Lyra met Apollo’s gaze, her eyes filled with determination.

“I’m going with him,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. “He needs me. I need to be there for him.”

Apollo’s eyes softened with a mix of admiration and concern.

“Lyra, this is reckless. You should stay here, protect Alex and Calli—”

In a swift, impulsive gesture, Lyra reached up, her lips brushing against Apollo’s jaw in a fleeting kiss, a gesture of gratitude and farewell. She was too short to reach any higher, but the brief touch was full of meaning.

“Promise me you’ll look after Alex and Calli until I get back,” she whispered, her voice earnest and firm.

Apollo, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected kiss, nodded solemnly.

“I promise,” he said softly. “But be careful, Lyra.”

With that, Lyra turned and ran after Heron, her heart pounding as she caught up with him. The urgency in her steps matched the determination in her heart – she could not let her friend—her chosen family—face it alone.

Chapter Text

Sailing through the air on the back of a griffon was something Lyra could get used to. The sights were truly breathtaking and there were very few times in her life when she felt as free as when she was in the air.

However, even in her awe she didn't forget what was the cause of their flight. Heron was insisting they had to leave as soon as possible. They didn't even have time to tell Alexander and Callista.

Lyra comforted herself with the knowledge that the twins were in good hands, watched over by Artemis and Athena. Yet, she couldn't shake the pang of guilt gnawing at her heart for leaving so abruptly.

"We could have at least said goodbye to the kids," the woman called over the rushing wind, trying to keep her voice light despite the worry gnawing at her.

Even though deep down she knew they will be just fine, she needed to hear it from another person.

"They're in the best hands possible," the man reassured her. "Besides, it's not like you'll be gone long. And even if anything happens, I'm sure Apollo will take good care of them too. Especially after that kiss you gave him."

Lyra rolled her eyes, though a blush crept up her cheeks.

"It was just a thank you, Heron. Don't read too much into it."

"You sure about that? Apollo looked like he'd been struck by lightning," her best friend smirked. "Didn't know you had it in you to charm gods."

"Oh, you're the one to talk. Don't think I didn't notice your exchange with Ismene before we split. Maybe you should be the one explaining your actions," she returned his teasing smile.

Heron let out a begrudging chuckle, a hint of irritation at the mention of the woman still there but not as sharp as before their last meeting.

"Touché," he said. "Ismene... she's not exactly easy to deal with. But I guess I can tolerate her now. Just a bit."

"Just a bit?" Lyra laughed softly. "That's progress, I suppose. You're warming up to her, whether you want to admit it or not."

"Alright, alright," Heron sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Let's focus on the task at hand. We'll figure out Ismene later."

"Deal," Lyra replied, her grin infectious as they shifted their attention back to the mission ahead.

Soon enough, the landscape changed. From the green forests below them, the scenery changed into empty, dead ground. A chill ran up Lyra's spine as she looked at the Fields of the Dead.

Her thoughts were cut short, when she saw a group standing before a massive satyr. It was far bigger than Lyra would have expected, but she had no time to truly think about it, as she saw Evios throwing a stone at it. The creature let out an angry growl as it hit it in the head and glared at the mortals.

Lyra's body reacted even before her mind did. Without hesitation, she pulled her bow from her back and nocked an arrow Before it could make a move towards the group, and she let the arrow fly.

The arrow struck true, piercing the satyr's head. The creature swayed for a moment before collapsing to the ground. Only then did the group below realize that Heron and Lyra had arrived.

"What are you doing here?" Alexia asked, stepping towards them as they landed.

"Returning the favour," Heron smiled and it was only then that Lyra noticed he also had his bow in his hands. "Do you have the map?"

In response, the blonde smiled and held up a rolled-up piece of paper. Their eyes locked for a moment, but before anything more could be said, Ismene stepped forward grabbing their attention as she cleared her throat, her expression as steely as ever.

"Enough with the chit-chat," she interjected, glancing at the fallen satyr. "We don't have any time to waste. We need to keep moving before something else shows up."

Lyra smirked at Ismene's abruptness, while Heron raised an eyebrow at the warrior, but nodded anyway.

"Right. Let's finish this," he announced, glancing back at the group.

As they stepped into the temple, the air instantly seemed to grow tense. The walls were filled with similar substance that Lyra noticed on Seraphim's weapon. Same dark colour, with red vein-like lines cutting through it.

Besides that, excluding the grand entrance, this looked a lot like mine near the polis they used to live in – the dark tunnels and wooden beams supporting walls and ceiling.

However, there was a strange, red glow coming from the only tunnel leading up. Sharing a look with Ismene and Heron, Alexia directed the group towards it.

Lyra saw that the group of warrior found some torches. They seemed to be in pretty good shape, and they were able to light them.

As they moved deeper into the labyrinth, the passages became narrower, and the air grew colder. Shadows danced on the walls, making it difficult to see what lay ahead. Lyra stayed close to Heron, her senses on high alert.

"You know, if we make it out of this, maybe you can ask Ismene out," Lyra whispered, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Heron raised a brow at her, seemingly not amused.

"And why would I do that?"

He only got a shrug and an innocent grin in response.

"Fine. But only if you ask Apollo to go on a proper date with you," he shot back. "Once you do that, then I'll think about risking my life with asking Ismene."

Lyra rolled her eyes, but agreed on the deal. He'll thank her for this later.

The sun shone brightly over the gardens of Olympus, casting a warm glow on the marble statues and lush greenery that surrounded Alexander and Callista. They had spent most of the day exploring and learning under the watchful eyes of Athena and Artemis.

The grove, at the far edge of the garden, was Artemis's special place, where she often retreated when she needed to be alone or surrounded by nature. It was here that she decided to bring the twins, thinking it would be the perfect spot for their lesson today.

"What are we going to do today?" Alexander asked eagerly, his wide eyes looking up at Artemis.

Artemis knelt beside him, her silver hair catching the sunlight. She smiled softly when she saw his excitement. Over the last few days, the twins had regained a lot of their energy that the gods heard so much about, and were almost all over the Olympus.

"We're going to learn how to listen," she told him, tapping his nose gently.

The boy scrunched it up and leaned away from her hand with a goofy smile.

"Listen?" Callista echoed, tilting her head to the side. "But we already know how to listen!"

Athena, standing nearby with her owl perched on her shoulder, chuckled.

"You know how to hear, little one. But listening is different. When you listen, you hear more than just words. You hear the world around you."

The twins exchanged a look, a bit puzzled, but intrigued, nonetheless. Artemis took their hands and led them to a soft patch of grass beneath a large oak tree.

"Sit here," she instructed, settling down beside them, Athena joined them moments later.

The goddess' owl flew up and perched up onto the branch above them.

Earlier, the twins were engrossed with asking all questions they could think of about the bird. Both goddesses answered the best they could, but there were some things that the kids were simply too young to understand. Still, it didn't stop them from asking and pressing for more information.

"Close your eyes," Artemis said gently. "And just... listen."

At first, the twins fidgeted. They were not used to sitting still, especially not when they were excited. But Artemis's calm voice had a way of soothing even the most restless hearts. Slowly, they settled down, closing their eyes as they were told.

"What do you hear?" Athena asked after a moment.

Alexander scrunched his nose in concentration.

"I hear... birds!"

"And the wind in the leaves," Callista added softly, her voice barely above a whisper as if speaking too loudly would disturb the peace around them.

"Good," Artemis praised, her own voice low and gentle. "Now listen deeper. What else do you hear?"

The twins were quiet for a long time, their small brows furrowed in concentration. Then, Alexander gasped.

"I hear water! There's a stream nearby!"

"And... and I hear... something moving in the bushes. Is it a rabbit?" Callista peaked her eye open excitedly, trying to spot the animal.

Artemis smiled, her eyes shining with pride.

"Very good."

"Is that what Lyra does on her hunts?" the girl asked, closing her eye again.

"Precisely," the goddess of the hunt nodded. "This is one of the mist valuable skills, when one wants to become a good hunter. They need to learn to listen for even the smallest of sounds that usually go unnoticed."

Athena leaned closer, her owl hooting softly as if in agreement.

"Listening isn't just about hearing what's around you. It's about understanding it, too. Every sound tells a story."

"What kind of story?" Alexander asked, his curiosity piqued.

"The story of the forest, of course," Artemis answered. "The birds sing to greet the day. The wind whispers secrets between the trees. The stream babbles as it travels, bringing life to everything it touches. And the rabbit you heard? It's probably telling its family that it found something tasty to eat."

The twins opened their eyes, looking around the grove with newfound wonder. It was as if the entire place had come alive in ways they had never noticed before.

"This is fun!" Callista declared, her earlier confusion replaced with excitement. "Can we listen more?"

"Of course," Athena said, smiling warmly. "But listening isn't just for the forest. It's something you can do anywhere. Even with people."

"You mean, like when someone's sad?" Alexander looked up at her, his gaze serious. "We can listen to them?"

"Exactly," Athena nodded, her expression proud. "Sometimes, the most important thing you can do for someone is to listen. Truly listen, and you'll understand more than words can ever say."

The twins seemed to take this to heart, their young minds already processing this new knowledge. It was a simple lesson, yet one with profound meaning.

And for Athena and Artemis, it was rewarding to see the children embrace it so fully.

As the day wore on, the twins continued their lessons in listening, moving through the grove with Artemis and Athena guiding them. They started to learn how to identify different bird songs, the sound of different animals moving through the underbrush, and even how to tell the time of day by the way the wind changed its tune.

By the time the twins got tired, they both choose a goddess to stay with. Alexander stayed with Athena, asking her to tell him about battles and strategies from the stories Lyra used to tell them, and Callista stayed by Artemis' side.

The two were surrounded by a pack of silver-white wolves, their fur gleaming like moonlight. Callista giggled as one of the wolves, a large and gentle creature, nuzzled her hand, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly light.

"Do they listen to you because you're a goddess?" Callista asked, her voice filled with wonder.

"They listen because they trust me," Artemis knelt beside her, stroking the wolf's head. "Animals can sense when someone means them no harm. It's about respect and understanding, not just power."

The girl looked up at her, her wide eyes reflecting the goddess's serene expression.

"Could I ever...?" She hesitated, glancing at the wolves around her. "Could I ever be like you?"

Artemis's smile softened, as did her eyes.

"You already have the heart for it. That's where it starts. The rest comes with time and experience. You have a lot of potential, Callista."

The young girl beamed, feeling a warmth in her chest.

Then, something caught their eyes. From across the garden, they saw Apollo's chariot being prepared for its journey.

The horses that pulled it were a magnificent sight—four creatures of flame and light, their manes flickering like living fire, their hooves leaving trails of sparks as they pawed at the ground. The chariot itself glowed with a golden hue, radiant and almost blinding in its brilliance.

"Is that...?" Alexander started, his voice filled with awe.

"Yes," Athena confirmed, a hint of a smile on her lips. "That is Apollo's chariot. He rides it across the sky to bring the sun to the world."

"I've always wanted to see the horses up close!" Callista gasped, her eyes shining with excitement.

"They're amazing!" her brother added, his gaze fixed on the majestic creatures.

"They are," Artemis agreed, standing beside them. "But they're also very powerful. It takes great skill and control to guide them."

The twins watched as Apollo approached the chariot. With a practiced ease, he mounted it and grabbed the reins of the fiery horses in his hands.

As the twins watched, Apollo gave a nod to the stable hand, and with a sharp command, the horses reared up, their flames flaring brighter.

"Where's he going?" Callista asked, her voice filled with wonder.

"I don't know," Artemis replied, her voice thoughtful. "But wherever he goes, I'm sure it's important."

As the chariot disappeared from view, a shadow crossed Callista's face. She turned to Artemis, her earlier joy fading.

"Why didn't he say goodbye?" she asked.

It was both Apollo and Hermes that the twins bonded with the most. The children quickly grew attached and started seeing the two gods almost like their friends, maybe even mentors or brothers, rather than powerful deities they prayed to. That term stretched to some other gods too.

Artemis's expression softened, and she knelt to be on eye level with the girl.

"Apollo has many duties, and sometimes he has to leave quickly. But that doesn't mean he doesn't care. He'll be back before you know it."

Just then, a familiar, yet surprising voice rang out across the garden.

"What are you all up to over here?"

The twins turned to see Zeus approaching, a warm smile on his face.

"Zeus!" Alexander and Callista cried in unison, running toward him.

They hadn't expected to see him so soon, especially with everything that was going on. While they had no idea what exactly was happening, they knew it was nothing good and would probably bring a lot of trouble. At least that was how Lyra explained it to them, as she also didn't know much.

Zeus knelt down, wrapping both children in a large, comforting embrace.

"How are my favourite little ones?" he asked.

The twins began excitedly recounting their day—how they learned about strategy from Athena, played with the wolves under Artemis's guidance, and saw Apollo's fiery chariot. Their voices overlapped in their eagerness, and Zeus listened with a patient, amused expression.

But as he looked up from the children, he noticed the concerned faces of Athena and Artemis. The joy in his eyes dimmed slightly, but he kept his tone light for the children's sake.

"That all sounds wonderful," Zeus said, ruffling Alexander's hair. "But now it's time to rest. You've had a big day."

"No!" the boy protested. "We wanna spend some more time outside!"

The King of Gods sighed and glanced at his daughters. He seemed to think only for a second, before nodding his head.

"All right. But you two are going with me," he picked the twins up, before looking at the goddesses. "And you two are free to return to your duties."

The goddesses nodded with small smiles. While they didn't mind watching the kids one bit, they still had their domains to watch over and after almost a whole day of not doing it, they were sure there were at least some things that had to be done.

With one last nod sent towards each other, the gods went their separate ways.

The deeper the group went, the more their surroundings filled with this substance. The air grew thicker, almost suffocating, with a heavy, metallic scent that made it hard to breathe.

"How deep in the Earth are we?" Kofi asked.

"Deep enough to fall out of the bottom," Evios answered.

"Quiet!" Alexia hissed at them, barely sparing them a glance.

"Besides, you're wrong. We still have long way to go, before reaching that point," Ismene remarked, as she walked past them, joining Lyra and Heron at the front.

"And how would you know?" Evios called after her.

"Are you sure you want me to answer that?" the woman replied, without glancing back at him.

Lyra and Heron sent her a look, which she ignored, but none of them said anything.

Everyone could feel that something felt off, the air thick with an ominous tension none of them couldn't quite identify.

Alexia glanced at the map, noting they were just a turn away from their destination. However, when they rounded the corner... there was nothing there.

Lyra was sure that was supposed to be it. The place around them seemed to be the most affected by the giant remains. Everything had this red glow about it and the ground even seemed to shape as if something heavy was lying on it for a long time.

Heron seemed to have similar thoughts.

"According to the map..." he started, glancing over Alexia's shoulder as she unrolled the map again. "The giant remains... should be right over there."

He pointed towards the place, where Lyra was staring. She was more than sure that there was something there, earlier.

"This isn't right," Kofi voiced everyone's thoughts.

And when he did, almost immediately they heard a familiar growl. In the matter or seconds, the rock wall beside them filled with demons. They seemed to appear out of nowhere, just showing up and filling in the gaps between their ranks.

In the middle of them, there was a manticore, with Seraphim on top. The leader slowly slid down from his creature and simply looked at the group below.

"Looks like my god is more clever than your god," he remarked.

Everyone readied their weapon, ready for the attack, that didn't come. Instead, Seraphim slid down the wall and slowly walked over to Heron. Lyra instantly readied her bow, but Heron stopped her.

"You moved the giant remains," he said instead, looking at his brother.

"I'm tired of being a pawn. Aren't you, brother?" the demon responded, looking straight into the man's eyes.

Lyra could've sworn, she heard a quiet gasp coming from the people behind her, but she paid them little mind. She was much more curious how did Seraphim know about his relation to Heron, but as soon as she thought about it, she guessed Hera must've told him.

"Why should they rule over us? They're more flawed than we are," the demons' leader continued. "Look at what they've done to us. They've ruined out lives! Our mother is dead because of them!"

Lyra sneered and held up her bow again. This time, however, Heron didn't stop her. she almost let the arrow fly, but she still waited. She wanted to know where Seraphim was going with all of this, even though deep down, she already knew.

"Don't you want to avenge her death?" this made Heron look up at his brother. "Join me, brother. We can have our vengeance and end the reign of the gods."

"So you can rule?" the man finally answered.

"So that what happened to us never happens again," Seraphim said. "This... is the only way."

"No, it's not," Heron shook his head and took a step towards the demon. "Zeus can undo what's been done to you. He can convert you back."

Seraphim scoffed at this.

"For the sake of our mother, I will ask you one last time. Join me, or you'll leave me no choice," he put a hand on the sword's hilt. "You are either with me... or against me."

"If that is what the choice must be..." Heron glared at his brother. "I'm against you."

The demon snarled and his eyes seemed to flash. He gritted his teeth and unsheathed his sword. He barely took two steps towards them, before Lyra let the arrow fly, hitting him in the hand. The sword flew back several steps, out of their reach.

Even though she wished to kill him right there and then, she doubted Heron would appreciate it, despite them being on two sides of this war. Seraphim was still his brother, one he had just found out about. And he still believed that the demon could be saved.

The rest of the demons seemed to take this as a sign to attack, as only seconds later, the small group was swarmed by countless enemies.

Heron and Lyra stood side-to-side, shooting arrows at the incoming demons. Suddenly, they noticed some of their enemies got set on fire. Turning around, they saw Evios and Kofi working together, as they lit and threw pouches at the incoming demons.

Still, many lives were lost. While the demons' loss was greater, the group's was more noticeable, as when Heron ordered a retreat, there were only five of them left.

Suddenly, the cave started to crumble. Stalactites and massive chunks of rock started falling from the ceiling, and the ground started to shake. The five barely reached the corridor leading outside, and both Lyra and Heron already called for their griffons.

The animals showed up just in time. Without much thinking, all of them split up – Alexia and Evios going with Heron, Kofi going with Lyra – and mounted the creatures. When they took off, they felt a whoosh of air hit their back, as rocks fell where they were just standing.

"That was close," Lyra muttered, looking down at the ruins.

When they arrived back at Olympus, Heron immediately took off in search of his father. The rest watched him go, a mixture of confusion and curiosity etched on their faces. The tension was palpable until Evios finally broke it, turning to Lyra with a bewildered expression.

"Okay, if no one's gonna say anything about this, I will. What the hell was that back there?" he exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch. "First, we find out you know the gods, and now this freak is Heron's brother? What's next? You're gonna tell us you're also some kind of divine being?"

"First of all, calm down, there's no need to scream now," the woman rolled her eyes. "Second of all, not all answers are for me to share. But as for 'what am I', I'm just human, same as you. As for the rest, you'll have to ask Heron. Because all of this is his story, not mine."

Evios grumbled something under his breath, clearly unsatisfied but not willing to push further. Lyra's gaze shifted to Kofi and Alexia, waiting for any more questions. But before they could speak, Ismene, who had been standing silently off to the side, crossed her arms and gave Lyra a hard stare.

"That's convenient," the woman said, her tone cold and cutting. "You claim to know nothing, yet you're always in the middle of it. So why don't you tell us what you really know? You're hiding something."

Lyra met Ismene's gaze without flinching, her voice steady. A few days ago, she might've not been able to hold eye contact with her, but now? Now, she had enough and she wasn't going to let people intimidate her anymore. She was finally starting to feel valuable and not like a liability. She wasn't going to hide anymore.

"I'm hiding nothing, Ismene," she said, her tone matching the warrior's. "I only know what I'm meant to know, and right now, that's not everything. If you want answers, take it up with Heron when he's ready to talk."

Ismene's eyes narrowed slightly, clearly unconvinced, but before she could press further, Alexia stepped in.

"Enough. Now isn't the time for this," the blonde declared, looking between two women. "We all have our parts to play, and right now, we need to trust each other if we're going to survive."

There was a tense pause, Ismene's eyes still locked on Lyra's, but after a moment, she relented with a nod, though the tension in her posture remained.

Lyra's gaze shifted back to Kofi and Alexia.

"Does, either of you, have any other questions?" she asked, her tone softening, and they both shook their heads. "Then excuse me, but I have to get my siblings,"

With that being said, she turned on her heel and walked away.

The rest quietly followed her, though Ismene lingered behind for a moment, her eyes watching Lyra's retreating form, still suspicious but not saying another word.

As Lyra made her way through the grand halls of Olympus, she spotted Athena and Artemis near the edge of the courtyard. The two goddesses were engaged in a quiet conversation, their expressions serious. Lyra approached them quickly.

"Athena, Artemis," she called out as she neared. "Where are Alex and Calli? Are they still with you?"

Artemis shook her head, her silver gaze meeting Lyra's.

"Zeus took over. He said it was time he spent more time with them."

"And Apollo?" Lyra frowned. "He told me he'd look after them, just before I left."

Athena exchanged a glance with Artemis before answering.

"He was here earlier, but he left without explanation. We haven't seen him since."

Nodding, Lyra thanked the goddesses before continuing her search. The absence of Apollo gnawed at her. She knew that other gods were willing to look after the twins, but she also knew how much liking the kids took to the sun god and would probably take any chance they had to spend some time with him.

It didn't take long for her to locate them. As she approached a secluded garden, she heard the familiar voices of Alexander and Callista, their tones bright and inquisitive. Rounding the corner, she found Zeus seated on a large stone bench, watching over the twins as they peppered Heron with questions.

Alexander was asking too many questions to answer, while Callista tugged at Heron's sleeve, demanding to answer her questions first.

The man looked up as she entered, a soft smile on his face as he tried to answer the rapid-fire questions from the kids.

"Lyra!" Callista cried out as she spotted her, running over and wrapping her arms around Lyra's waist.

Alexander followed suit, his expression a mixture of relief and joy.

"How was your day with Athena and Artemis?" the woman asked, kneeling to their level. "Did anything happen while I was gone?"

"No, we're fine," Callista assured her.

"I'm glad to hear that," Lyra smiled, ruffling her hair. "But we need to talk about what happened out there. There's a lot we need to understand and figure out."

"They taught us so much!" Alexander chimed in before Callista could answer, his excitement bubbling over. "But then Zeus showed up and said he wanted to spend time with us. Before Heron came here, he was telling us stories about the old times. It was kind of cool."

Lyra's eyes flickered to Zeus, who was watching the interaction with a surprisingly gentle expression. But her concern for Apollo lingered, and she couldn't keep it at bay any longer.

"Zeus," she began, her voice firm. "Where is Apollo? The others said he just disappeared."

"I don't know, Lyra," the god shook his head. "He didn't say anything to me either. But don't worry, Apollo can take care of himself."

"Alright," she said softly, turning her attention back to the twins. "I'm sure he'll turn up soon."

Heron gave her a look of understanding, then turned back to the kids, who were still brimming with energy and questions. Despite everything, a part of Lyra felt relieved seeing them so animated again.

The balcony of Olympus was bathed in golden light as Zeus leaned against the railing, gazing down at Earth.

Alexander and Callista were laughing, their voices ringing through the air as they chased Kofi, who was pretending to be a fearsome beast. Despite his imposing stature, he was gentle with the children, ducking low and pretending to growl playfully, eliciting fits of giggles.

The god couldn't help but smile at the sight. It reminded him of a way he used to play with Lyra and Heron when they were little. Oh, how the time had flown. To him, it seemed almost like yesterday that they were just a small kids, not understanding most of what was going on around them.

And now, as he glanced at the woman beside him, he couldn't help but wonder. Lyra smiled at the scene but turned her gaze back to Zeus, who was still looking at her. She opened her mouth, but hesitated for a moment, her mind flickering back to the moments that had troubled her.

"Do you ever wonder if they know?" she finally asked, her tone casual yet weighted. "About our parents? The way they treated me?"

Zeus remained silent, his expression unreadable. The shadows of the past flickered in his blue eyes, before he turned slightly, looking away from her, back to the world below.

"Sometimes, the truth is hard to see, even for those who wish to look," he said after a moment.

A soft breeze ruffled her hair, and she studied him, searching for any sign of knowing that she had seen before, but this time, she found none. While he was still posing as Elias, she had no problem with reading him, usually knowing what he had to say before he even opened his mouth.

But after he revealed himself as Zeus, she realised that it was only because he let her. Nowadays, she could never tell for sure what he was thinking or what he felt. She couldn't even describe what it was. He was so familiar, yet so unfamiliar. It was like she knew what to expect, yet she didn't.

"And what about the fox?" she continued, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "Did you know it was Apollo?"

"Some things are best left to the imagination, Lyra," he chuckled lightly, a deep sound that resonated through the air.

At the time, he didn't want to reveal anything, unsure if his son would chose to engage further. It wasn't unheard of, for the god to visit a mortal a few times, only to decide against going further. He had done this a few times himself.

"Is that your way of saying yes?" she pressed, unable to hide her smirk.

"Perhaps," he replied, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Or maybe I simply enjoy watching you figure things out for yourself."

She laughed softly, shaking her head.

She looked around and caught a sight of Heron and Ismene nearby, their playful argument drawing her attention. The man crossed his arms, a bemused smile on his face, while the woman rolled her eyes at something he had just said, making a sharp remark of her own.

Lyra could sense the tension between them softening, and for a moment, she felt a pang of hope for the future.

"Look at them," she said, a small smile breaking out on her face. "What do you think they'll end up being?"

Zeus glanced over, a knowing smile creeping onto his lips. Lyra knew these eyes all too well, not to notice the way they twinkled with amusement and fondness. He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm.

"Ah, young love in its many forms. They'll figure it out, just as you have," he mused. "There's much potential in their conflict. Sometimes, the fire can forge stronger bonds."

"If only they knew it," Lyra chuckled softly.

Before she could dwell on the thought, Kofi had scooped up both Alexander and Callista, lifting them high above his head, and they squealed with delight. Her heart swelled at the sight, a warmth spreading through her as she felt the joy of those around her.

"What about you, Lyra?" Zeus asked, his voice now softer, almost fatherly. "What do you wish to know?"

She paused, searching for the right words.

"I suppose I just want to understand where I fit in all of this," she admitted, her gaze drifting back to the children, and then to Heron, who had turned away from Ismene and was making his way toward them.

"You are more important than you realise," Zeus said gently. "You have the power to change lives, Lyra. Don't ever forget that."

Her heart quickened at his words.

"I won't."

As the sun sank lower, Lyra felt a swell of gratitude.

"Thank you, Father," she said, the word slipping from her lips before she could stop herself.

She glanced towards the god nervously, but his smile only widened and his eyes twinkled happily. He put a hand on her shoulder and let a comfortable silence settle over the two of them. The warmth in her chest was real, and she embraced it.

Just then, Heron stomped over, throwing up his hands.

"Ismene, if you're just going to keep arguing, I'm done!" he exclaimed, completely done with the discussion they were having.

She shot him a mock glare, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Oh, please," she shot back. "You'll miss me when I'm gone!"

"As if," he retorted, walking away and shaking his head.

As the man approached, Kofi set the children down, and they all burst into laughter once more. The camaraderie around her was infectious, and for a moment, all doubts faded, replaced by the warmth of belonging and hope.

Later that evening, the sky above Olympus was a deep indigo, flecked with stars. It was probably the most beautiful sight Lyra had ever seen. She stood with Alexander and Callista, their eyes wide as they watched the night sky.

Near them, Zeus and Heron were watching the events playing out in the mortal realm. Judging by their expressions, Lyra knew it was nothing good. Making sure her siblings were all right by themselves, the woman joined the two.

Down on Earth, Hera was waking up the giants, stirring them from their ancient slumber. The ground shook as the monstrous beings rose. Down on Earth, Hera was waking up the giants, stirring them from their ancient slumber. The ground shook as the monstrous beings rose.

Lyra didn't even notice the moment the twins joined them. she only realised after Callista let out a gasp, as she managed to peak over the tall railing.

"She's... gone mad," Zeus breathed out.

"Zeus!" a familiar voice of Hermes called out, announcing his arrival. "I have an urgent message from Hera."

The twins, spotting him immediately, ran over to him with excited chatter, eager to share what they had seen.

"Hermes!" Callista called out, her small hand reaching for his. "Did you see the giants? They're so big!"

"Yeah! And scary," Alexander added, his eyes wide.

But instead of his usual playful banter, Hermes merely offered them a small, tight smile. He gently pushed them away, a move so uncharacteristic that Lyra's senses immediately went on high alert. Something was off.

Over the last few days they spent on Olympus, she had observed that Hermes loved the twins and always made time for their endless stream of questions. He might hurry them along if he was in a rush, but he never dismissed them outright.

Lyra's eyes narrowed as she watched him. The twins exchanged confused glances, unsure of why the god was acting so strangely. Before Lyra could ask what was going on, Zeus spoke up.

"What is it?" the thunder god asked, approaching them.

Without warning, 'Hermes' lunged forward, pulling a dagger from his robes and stabbing Zeus in the neck. Blood spurted from the wound, staining the golden floor, and Zeus staggered, clutching his throat in disbelief.

"No!" Alexander screamed, his young voice filled with terror.

Callista's face twisted in horror as she tried to rush forward. Lyra reacted instinctively, grabbing both of them and holding them back with all her strength.

"No, stay back!" she ordered, her voice firm but shaking.

The twins struggled against her, their cries filled with anger and confusion. Before they could break free, the real Hermes burst into the room, moving with the speed only he possessed. In one swift motion, he slammed into the impostor, sending him flying off the balcony and into the air.

As the fake Hermes plummeted, his form shifted, revealing the true culprit. Hera, with her eyes filled with malice, sent them a cruel smile, before she transformed into a large, black crow. She cawed loudly, before flying off.

Zeus staggered and collapsed, clutching his throat as blood gushed from the wound.

"No!" Heron ran towards his father.

Lyra finally let the twins go and they also rushed to the god's side, their faces pale with fear.

Below them, the ground still rumbled as the giants fully awakened. The air filled with the ominous sound of their roars. The danger was growing with every passing second.

Zeus's eyes fluttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, it seemed as though the light was fading from his gaze, and fear gripped at Lyra's heart as she remembered his words – We're not infallible.

The twins clung to him, their cries filling the air, but Zeus remained silent, his body weakening.

Behind them, Lyra's gaze flicked to the giants below. They were awake now, fully aware and ready to do whatever Hera ordered. The threat was imminent, and yet, without Zeus, they were all vulnerable.

As the blood continued to pool around them, the reality of the situation hit the woman like a crushing wave. Zeus, the King of the Gods, the one who had protected them all, and bested the giants all that time ago, was on the brink of death.

And with him, so was their last hope.

Chapter Text

The twins’ cries echoed off the marble walls, piercing through the stunned silence that had settled over the palace.

“Zeus! Zeus!” Alexander’s small hands reached out, trying to stop the flow of blood with his own fingers, but it was futile.

Callista, her eyes wide with terror, clung to Zeus’s arm, tears streaming down her face.

“Someone, help him!” the girl’s voice broke with desperation, her little hands trembling.

Hermes knelt above his father, opposite of Heron and the twins.

The twins’ cries seemed to draw the attention of the other gods, who appeared as if summoned by the very distress of the children. Athena was the first to arrive, with Artemis close behind. Hestia and Hephaestus arrived soon later. The rest also eventually appeared, crowding around them.

Zeus’s breath came in ragged gasps as he choked on the blood filling his throat. For a moment, it seemed as though even the great King of the Gods might succumb to this treacherous blow.

But Zeus was not ready to leave them. The sky above Olympus darkened, clouds swirling with a fierce energy as if responding to their King’s distress. The heavens rumbled, and a faint, ominous light began to pulse within Zeus’s eyes. Soon enough, they began to glow with the crackling energy of pure lightning.

Zeus raised his hand, that was now crackling with the same energy as his eyes, towards his neck. His palm hovered over the gaping wound, and with a deep, guttural growl, he called upon the full force of his divine powers.

His body sparked and tensed as the lightning did its work. Everyone covered their eyes as the brightness hit them, and only opened them again when the brightness died down.

Finally, the lightning subsided, leaving behind a glowing blue scar on Zeus’s neck. The god’s hand dropped to his side, his chest heaving as he took in deep, steadying breaths, the glow slowly dimming. The colour began to return to his skin, and the dullness in his eyes faded, replaced by a sharp, piercing gaze.

But before he could fully rise to his feet, the sea suddenly became much more restless. Then, a blast of water jumped out of it, into the pool on Olympus, then the next from the pool to the balcony everyone were gathered.

Poseidon, the Lord of the Seas, stood there when the water washed away, his trident in hand. But this time, he was not alone.

Slumped against him, drenched and bruised, was Apollo. The sun god’s golden hair was matted to his face, his once radiant aura dimmed, but he was alive and conscious. His golden eyes scanned the crowd and immediately settled on Lyra. A small, almost unnoticeable smile appeared on his face as soon as their eyes met.

Hermes and Hephaestus immediately moved to block Poseidon’s path, their faces hard with suspicion. Still, they both glanced towards their brother.

“Let me pass,” the sea god demanded. “Would you prefer I left him there?”

But before they could answer, Zeus groaned and rose to his feet, his skin and clothes were still covered in his blood. He leaned against the railing heavily, almost sitting on it.

“Why are you here?” he glared at his older brother.

The sun god staggered slightly when Poseidon took another step, his legs trembling beneath him. Lyra, still holding the twins close, felt a surge of concern as she saw Apollo’s state. Without hesitation, she released the twins and stepped forward.

She reached Apollo just as he faltered again. Without a word, she placed her arm around him, trying to support his weight, though it was clear she was struggling. The top of her head barely reached his chest, and Apollo, even weakened, was a towering figure compared to her.

Hephaestus, noticing her struggle, quickly joined her. He moved with a surprising gentleness, also wrapping an arm around Apollo to help steady him.

Callista and Alexander, who had been standing back with wide, worried eyes, finally broke free from their stunned silence. They rushed to Lyra’s side, the girl grabbing at her skirts and looking up at Apollo with a mix of worry and relief. Alexander, however, couldn’t take his eyes off Poseidon.

“Why did you bring him here? I thought you didn’t like us,” he said, his voice small but accusing.

Poseidon glanced down at the twins, his expression softening for a brief moment.

“I’m here because Hera has gone too far. I’m here to join you if you’ll have me,” he answered, his voice steady.

Apollo, still leaning on Lyra and Hephaestus, managed to stand a little straighter. His strength was returning, slowly but surely. Lyra looked up at him, concern etched on her face.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, though the answer was clear.

Apollo gave her a small, weary smile.

“I’ve been better,” he admitted, his voice low. "But I’ll be fine.”

Meanwhile, Zeus chuckled quietly, but it ran across the silent balcony. He had this smile on his face, the one that people often had when they wanted to say, ‘I told you so’.

“She offered them your beloved sea,” this wasn’t a question, but rather a statement as he was sure this was exactly what happened. “Didn’t she?”

When Poseidon didn’t give him any answer, the younger god chuckled again.

“Yes,” he made a pause. “Do you know where the cauldron is?”

“No,” the sea god sighed, then turned to look towards the vast ocean below. “But there’s a caravan of maroon wagons in their rear guard, heavily protected. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s there.”

Zeus groaned as he stood up again, and walked over to the railing on the other side of the balcony. For a moment, he just stood there and looked down on Earth, before facing the rest again.

“We must attack,” he declared. “We will keep Hera’s gaze locked on us. Blind her to everything else that moves about the battlefield. With Hera distracted, we can send someone around their lines to find the cauldron. We have to eliminate the giants. It’s out only hope.”

“I’ll go,” Hermes volunteered, just like everyone predicted. “I’ll find it.”

“That’s too predictable,” Lyra sighed and everyone looked towards her.

“You are the swiftest of the gods,” Heron agreed, bringing everyone’s attention to himself. “The one Hera would most expect. I’ll go.”

“You?” the messenger god asked with wide eyes.

“That’s better idea,” Lyra shrugged.

“They’re right,” Zeus agreed with them. “She’d never expect something like this.”

“We can’t risk the fate of the war to a mortal,” Hermes protested.

“He’s not a mortal,” the thunder god looked towards his youngest son. “He’s my son.”

And seeing Heron’s smile, Lyra knew this mean a lot to him. This was exactly what he needed to hear.

The grand halls of Olympus echoed with their footsteps as Lyra guided Apollo back to his quarters. His arm stayed draped over her shoulder, and she didn’t try to shake it off. Instead, she leaned into his warmth, her concern gnawing at her more with each step, a worry that had only grown since she first saw him bruised and drenched on the balcony.

She knew she needed to make sure he was truly okay, not just for the battle but for her own peace of mind.

Just before leaving, she exchanged a look with Heron. He gave her a nod and led the twins away, silent understanding passing between them—they needed to find a safe place for them to hide during the battle, because there was no way they were going to let two five-year-olds wander around the battlefield.

They finally reached Apollo’s quarters, a room bathed in warm light, where the walls shimmered with a soft golden glow. It was a place of serenity, a stark contrast to the chaos that threatened to engulf them all.

Apollo let out a weary sigh as they stepped inside, though he kept his arm around Lyra, holding her close as if drawing strength from her presence.

“You didn’t have to worry so much,” he said, his voice light, but Lyra could hear the exhaustion beneath it.

Quickly scanning the room, she guided him to the bed, urging him to sit down. He did so, without any protests. Now, they were on eye-to-eye level.

“Of course I worried,” she replied, her tone a mix of frustration and affection. “I come back and you’re nowhere to be found. And then you show up like that… What happened, Apollo?”

“When Hermes left, earlier, I had a feeling that something might go wrong, that he might need help. I followed him, and sure enough, Hera and Ares were waiting for us, or rather, him. Ares got the better of me for a moment, but I’m fine now. Just a bit sore.”

Lyra knelt in front of him, her hands resting gently on his knees as she looked up into his eyes. She had known for a while that her feelings for Apollo went beyond friendship, but she had never dared to hope that he might feel the same way.

She sighed and stood up, turning away to search for a piece of cloth that he could dry himself with. Instead, her gaze caught on something unexpected.

It was a flower crown, dried and delicate, lying on a nearby table. At first, she thought nothing of it, but something about it tugged at her memory. She frowned and walked over and gently picked it up, her fingers brushing against the fragile petals, now faded but still holding some of their original colour.

Apollo watched her silently, as she slowly realised what it was.

The flowers—blue and white—were the same ones she’d woven into a crown long ago. The memory hit her suddenly—it was the one she had made and given to a golden fox on a quiet day in the forest.

At the time, she hadn’t been certain who—or what—the fox really was, though she had her suspicions. That was before Apollo revealed himself, before she knew he had been watching her all along.

She turned to Apollo, holding the dried crown in her hands, surprise written across her face.

“You kept this?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with both wonder and confusion.

“Of course I did," Apollo nodded, a small, sheepish smile crept onto his lips

"But… it’s just a flower crown," Lyra blinked, not sure what to say. “And it’s dried up now.”

He shrugged lightly, leaning back on his hands, though his eyes remained on hers. The warm feeling ignited in her chest when she saw the intensity with which he was eyeing her, that lazy smile still sitting on his lips.

“It was more than that to me. It was the first thing you ever gave me.”

Her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of it.

It wasn't even a well-made flower crown, just something she did last-minute when her siblings brought her more flowers than she knew what to do with. They ended up making three spare crowns, and so it happened that when she was making the blue-white one, she started thinking of the golden fox she met a few times and how it would look on it.

“But I didn’t even know it was you," she protested. "I thought you were just… a fox. A strange, very shiny fox, but still…”

Apollo chuckled at that, his golden eyes softening.

“I know," he cut her off gently. "That’s what made it even more special. You treated me kindly even when you weren’t sure who I was.”

Lyra felt her heart skip a beat at his words, the weight of his gaze making her suddenly self-conscious. She looked down at the crown, her fingers tracing the brittle stems, fiddling with them gently, just enough not to break the dried-up ends.

“I didn’t think you’d care about something like this.”

“I’ve been fascinated with you since I heard your prayer,” he admitted quietly, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

Lyra’s head snapped up at that.

“You heard it?” she asked, her tone a mixture of disbelief and embarrassment.

She remembered that prayer almost word for word, a bold, desperate thing whispered into the early morning, just when she started losing hope. She hadn’t even thought anyone was listening, least of all Apollo himself.

“Of course I did,” he said, sitting up straighter. “I hear all prayers, but yours... yours stood out. You didn’t ask for much. Not for yourself, anyway. You prayed for any kind of prey, just so your family could have something to eat. It was... pure. And amusing.”

Lyra stared at him, her mind racing. She had never imagined he’d heard her, let alone remembered it.

“But... why would that matter to you?”

“Because it showed me who you are," Apollo looked at her with an intensity she wasn’t expecting. "A mortal who wasn’t asking for glory or riches, but for the well-being of others. That fascinated me. And when I came to you as the fox… it wasn’t just curiosity. It was admiration.”

Her cheeks flushed as she processed his words.

“You’ve been watching me all this time?” she muttered, looking away from him.

He nodded, his expression sincere, but amusement danced in his eyes.

“I have. I didn’t want to interfere too much, not until the right time. But I kept the flower crown because it reminded me of you, of that moment. You're right, it has dried up, but... it still feels alive to me.”

Lyra felt a wave of warmth wash over her, mixed with a bit of disbelief. The god of prophecy, the sun, the arts—he had been paying attention to her all this time? Out of all people? And he had kept something so small, so simple, just because it came from her.

She placed the crown back on the table carefully, then turned to face him again. She didn't even notice the moment when he stood up and closed the distance between them, causing her to jump slightly as he suddenly appeared in front of her.

His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from her face, and for a moment, she let herself get lost in his golden eyes. His touch was tender and warm, his gaze filled with something deeper than she had ever seen before.

“Apollo,” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “I—”

Before she could finish, he leaned down and captured her lips in a gentle, but unmistakable kiss.

It was soft at first, almost hesitant, as if he was waiting for her to pull away. But when Lyra responded, her arms wrapping around his neck, the kiss deepened, growing more passionate as they finally let go of the restraint they had both been holding onto for so long.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Apollo rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as if savouring the moment.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admitted, his voice a soft murmur.

Lyra smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days.

“So have I,” she whispered back, her fingers gently brushing through his golden hair. “I just… didn’t know if you felt the same.”

“I do,” Apollo said firmly, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. “I have for a long time. I was just waiting for the right moment, but… I realize now that there’s never a perfect time. Especially not with everything happening now.”

“And what made you decide now was the best moment?” she raised a brow with a small, teasing smile.

“It’s… complicated. I felt something was wrong. Not just with Hermes, but something else. I can’t explain it, but it’s as if… I don’t know how to say this.”

“What is it?” Lyra tilted her head, her smile gone as she studied him closely.

He hesitated, his hand lingering on her cheek as if searching for the right words.

“I know this might be really soon, but I have an offer I want you to consider,” he began, his voice cautious, “It’s not something I say lightly, and it’s not something I’d ask unless I was sure about it.”

Lyra’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure where this was going, but the seriousness in his tone made her listen intently.

Apollo took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Lyra, do you know that mortals can sometimes be offered the chance to become gods?" he asked, and her eyes widened.

This wasn't a story well known, but Elias did tell her and Heron about it once, when they were little. However, at the time it was nothing more than a story. But now, that the god was actually mentioning it... Before she could even open her mouth to question it, he continued.

"I… I want you to know that if you ever wanted that, if you ever wanted to stay here, with me, it’s something that could be arranged. Not now, not until you’re ready, but one day… if you wanted.”

Lyra’s breath caught in her throat. She had heard stories of mortals becoming gods, tales of love and trials that led to immortality.

But hearing it from Apollo, knowing he was offering this to her, was something entirely different. She could see the concern in his eyes, the way his voice wavered slightly as if he feared she might reject him.

But beyond that, she sensed something else, something he wasn’t saying. There was a fear in him, a worry that perhaps he was too late, that something might happen to her before she could decide.

She reached up, placing her hand over his.

“Apollo, I… I’m honoured that you’d even consider something like that for me,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “But right now, my family needs me. I need to be with them, to protect them. Maybe one day, when all of this is over. But for now… I can’t leave them. Not yet.”

She knew that the gods were forbidden from taking direct action affecting humans. If she were to become a goddess, she knew some of what that would entail and she wasn't sure this was something she felt ready for, just yet. One day, maybe, but as for now, it didn't feel right.

“I would never ask you to,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and understanding. “Your loyalty to your family is one of the things I admire most about you. And I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just… I wanted you to know that the option is there. Because I… I care about you, Lyra. More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time.”

Lyra felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. She had known, deep down, that there was something between them, something more than friendship. But hearing him say it, knowing he felt the same way, made her heart swell with emotion.

“I care about you too, Apollo,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “More than I ever thought I could.”

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, the weight of their words settling between them.

Then, slowly, Apollo leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in yet another soft, tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the emotions they had kept hidden, all the fears and hopes they had shared.

When they pulled away, their foreheads rested together as they savoured the moment.

“I meant what I said,” Apollo whispered. “One day, when you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

As the preparations for the battle neared the end, Lyra found herself making her way towards Zeus, as she was told he wanted to see her before everything went down.

She spotted him standing alone near the edge of the balcony, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

“Zeus,” she called out as she approached him.

He turned to face her, his expression both serious and warm.

“Lyra,” he greeted her with a nod. “I have something for you.”

He reached to the side and picked up a small, ornate box. It was crafted from a dark, polished wood and adorned with intricate patterns of gold. He opened it slowly, revealing a vial nestled inside.

The vial was delicate and beautifully designed, its contents glowing faintly with an inner light.

“What’s this?” Lyra's eyebrows knit together as she examined the vial.

Zeus's expression grew serious.

"This is something you must hold onto, but only open it when the time is right,” he told her, as he reached into the box and took the vial out. “You’ll know when that moment comes. It’s important to keep it close and not part with it."

She raised a brow, as he handed the vial to her, letting it hang onto the delicate chain it had attached.

“What exactly does it do?” she asked, as she grabbed it softly. “How will I know when the time is right?”

“It’s something that will be revealed to you when you need it most. When you find yourself in a situation where its power is necessary, you will understand. Until then, keep it with you. It is more than just a trinket; it holds great significance.”

Lyra nodded slowly, her fingers brushing over the vial.

“I’ll keep it safe, then. But why give it to me now?”

Zeus placed a hand on her shoulder, a rare gesture of affection.

“You and Apollo have something special. I knew it from the moment I first learned about him watching over you. And it is my hope that this will aid you in finding your happiness. It’s a gift for when you both decide the time is right.”

Lyra’s gaze lingered on the vial for a moment longer before she slipped the delicate chain over her head, tucking it safely under her armour. The cool metal rested against her skin, a silent reminder of the trust Zeus had placed in her, and the bond she shared with Apollo.

She was about to turn away, ready to join the others, when something in her heart tugged her back. There was a question that had been gnawing at her, and with the battle approaching, she knew she needed to ask it now, before it was too late.

"Zeus?" she asked hesitantly, her voice quieter than before.

He raised a brow, turning his full attention to her.

"Yes?"

Lyra hesitated, biting her lip for a moment before speaking again.

"Do you... do you think falling for a god is a good idea?" she asked unsurely.

The question seemed to catch Zeus off guard. His brows furrowed slightly as he studied her. She ducked her head, avoiding his gaze, keeping it on the ground instead. She suddenly felt very vulnerable under his intense gaze

"What do you mean, Lyra?"

"I’ve heard the stories," she continued, her voice wavering just a bit. "The ones you used to tell me. About mortals who had affairs with gods. It... it never ended well for them. Most of them ended up... dead."

She swallowed hard, her eyes dropping to the floor.

"I guess I’m just... I’m scared. What if I’m making the same mistake?"

Zeus was silent for a moment, his eyes softening with understanding. He stepped closer, his towering presence both comforting and intimidating. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, making her glance up at him.

"You’re right," he admitted, his voice low and thoughtful. "Many of those stories do not have happy endings. Mortals who get close to the gods often find themselves caught in something they can't control. There’s danger in it, I won’t deny that."

Lyra’s heart sank slightly at his words, her worst fears seeming to confirm themselves. But before she could dwell on them too long, Zeus spoke again, his tone gentler.

"But those stories aren't your story," he continued, "I can't promise you that everything will be perfect, Lyra. I can’t guarantee it will end well. But what I do know is this: you and Apollo are both willing to try. You care about each other, and that’s worth something. Sometimes... that’s worth everything."

"But what if... what if it still ends badly?" she looked up at him, searching his face for reassurance. "What if I’m just fooling myself, thinking it can work when history says it won’t?"

Lyra’s chest tightened, emotions swirling inside her. She had always been practical, always cautious. Falling for a god seemed reckless, dangerous even.

But Apollo had never been anything but kind and patient with her—when she first arrived and needed someone to reassure her, when she got angry and frustrated at the archery lessons he gave her, and some other situations.

And now, knowing Zeus himself had given his blessing, a weight began to lift from her heart.

"Do you think it’s worth the risk?" she asked quietly, almost afraid of his answer.

Zeus’s smile was small but genuine, the kind of smile she didn’t see from him often.

"Do you think it's a mistake?" he asked instead, referring to her earlier statement. "Only you can decide that. But from what I’ve seen, it seems like both you and Apollo think it’s worth trying. And sometimes, that’s all you need to start."

Lyra let out a slow breath, her grip tightening around the vial resting under her armour. She looked back at Zeus, her resolve solidifying.

"You're right," she said, her voice steadier now. "I think it’s worth it. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but... I want to try. I need to try."

Zeus gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

"That’s all you can do, Lyra. Take the leap and see where it leads."

She nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over her. No one could predict the future, not even the gods, but for the first time in a long while, Lyra felt confident in her choice.

As she turned to leave and rejoin the others, she couldn’t help but smile. Whatever lay ahead, she was ready to face it—with Apollo by her side.

When Lyra walked into the armoury with the rest, they almost immediately spotted the weapons of their choice. Alexia walked over to the wall covered with shields. Kofi picked up a golden disc. Ismene walked over to the wall, where two golden blade rings, exactly like the ones she always had attached to her belt, hung. Without hesitation, she grabbed them and gave it an experimental twirl.

“Oh, these beauties will do just fine," she declared with a small grin.

At the same time, Evios found a whip hung on the wall.

“Oh. That’ll come in handy,” he smirked, as he looked it over.

Meanwhile, Heron and Lyra looked around for the bow. When they didn’t find one, they started looking at other weapons. Heron grabbed a sword, similar to the one he was training with, before walking over to the spears. Just as he grabbed one, a voice from behind them spoke up.

“Wait.”

They turned around and found Apollo standing there, already changed into his battle gear, something that the group had yet to do.

“Hephaestus wanted you to have this,” the god handed his brother a golden bow, with matching arrows. “From one bastard to another.”

Heron’s eyes lit up as he smiled gently and examined the weapon, noting the exquisite craftsmanship and the way the metal seemed to catch the light with every movement.

Meanwhile, the sun god turned towards his lover and his eyes softened. He held out a magnificent golden bow, its surface intricately engraved with celestial patterns. The bow was accompanied by a quiver of matching arrows, each one tipped with a hint of divine light.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, her eyes meeting Apollo’s. “Thank you.”

He stepped closer, his hand brushing hers as he adjusted the grip on the bow.

“I enchanted this bow myself. It’s designed to enhance your aim and ensure that fewer of your arrows miss their mark. I’ve also infused it with a bit of my power, so it will feel lighter and more responsive to your touch,” he looked into her eyes and smiled gently. “I want you to be safe out there. This should give you an edge.”

He hesitated for a heartbeat before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. The gesture was sweet and intimate, and Lyra’s heart fluttered with a mixture of warmth and nervous energy. As they pulled back, a teasing voice interrupted the moment.

“Well, well, it seems someone’s gotten quite the upgrade. Let’s hope that’s enough to keep you from getting distracted,” Heron said, his tone light-hearted.

“I’ll make sure to aim straight and keep my mind on the task,” Lyra rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile.

“And I’ll do my best to avoid any distractions as well,” Apollo chuckled, his gaze lingering on Lyra with warmth. “But remember, if you miss a shot, I’ll expect a detailed explanation.”

The group laughed, the tension easing momentarily. The god gave Lyra a reassuring smile and then turned to leave, his expression becoming more serious as he prepared for the battle ahead.

As the god exited, Heron, Alexia, Evios, and Kofi gathered around Lyra, their teasing shifting to questions and light-hearted comments about her newly enchanted bow.

“Looks like you’ve got the god of the sun’s personal approval,” the blonde teased, nudging Lyra gently. “Let’s hope it means you’re going to be our shining star out there.”

“Yeah,” Evios chimed in, grinning. “And if you’re distracted, at least you’ll have a good reason. I mean, Apollo does set quite the standard.”

Lyra rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips as she slung the bow over her shoulder.

"Just try not to get too jealous when I outshine you all,” she remarked.

Lyra laughed along with them, warmth spreading through her chest as their banter eased the tension in the air, made everything feel lighter, even on the edge of battle.

Chapter Text

Apollo walked over to the gods gathered at the edge of the balcony overlooking the preparations below. He had a small, thoughtful smile on his face, his usual confident demeanour softened.

The gods who were present—Zeus, Artemis, Hermes, and a few others—noticed the change in his demeanour immediately.

Artemis raised an eyebrow as her twin approached.

"You look like you're a million miles away, Apollo," she remarked, her tone both curious and mildly amused. "What's on your mind?"

The sun god's smile widened slightly, but he didn't say anything immediately. Instead, he glanced back towards Lyra, who just walked out of the armoury with Heron and the others. He was clearly lost in thought, his mind replaying their recent moments together.

"It's nothing major," he finally said, his voice carrying a hint of mystery. "Just... a moment that I think needed to happen. You could say I'm feeling... optimistic."

Hermes, leaning casually against a nearby pillar, raised an eyebrow.

"Optimistic? That's not a word you hear often around here," he smirked, clearly intrigued. "Especially not with everything that's going on."

Zeus, who had been listening quietly, narrowed his eyes with a mixture of interest and suspicion.

"You seem quite pleased with yourself," his father crossed his arms. "This must be more than just a passing thought."

Artemis and Hermes exchanged knowing glances, their expressions shifting to one of realization. Artemis tilted her head slightly, as if piecing together the puzzle.

"Are you saying something happened between you and Lyra?" Hermes asked, his voice a mix of intrigue and mild amusement.

Apollo chuckled softly, a warm and genuine sound.

"Let's just say that sometimes, things fall into place when you least expect them. Lyra and I... we've had a conversation and a moment that made everything a bit clearer."

Hermes raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"So, you're telling us that you and Lyra are now... what? Together?" he leaned closer, clearly interested in the details.

"You could say that," his brother shrugged. "We don't have official label for this yet."

"As touching as this is, we do have a battle to prepare for," Hestia interrupted with a sigh. "We can't let ourselves get too distracted by personal matters now. But there will be time to talk about this later."

"You're right," Apollo nodded, his expression becoming serious once again.

"I suppose we should discuss our final plans," Hermes shrugged. "We have a lot to do, and not much time to do it."

As the gods quickly shifted their focus, moving to their strategic discussions and final preparations, the conversation about Apollo's personal life faded into the background.

The giants arrived sooner than anyone would expect. Lyra and her friends barely finished changing into their armours and gathering everything they might need, when the first tremors reached them, quickly followed by the distant, rhythmic thuds of the approaching army.

She quickly fastened the last strap of her armour. It was heavier than she expected, but it offered a strange comfort, like a protective shell that might hold the chaos at bay.

Soon enough, they found themselves standing at the edge of the cliff, beside gods, facing the oncoming army. Giants, demons and gods, that followed Hera, stood on the ground below them, ready to charge at her command.

Lyra felt her breath quicken, the reality of the situation sinking in. This wasn't just another training exercise or a skirmish with minor enemies. This was a full-scale war, the likes of which none of them had ever faced before.

"Do you remember the demons Alexia and Ismene were chasing?" Evios suddenly spoke up and the rest of the group looked towards him. "They were there to meet up with us."

"We found the remains of a giant and we... sold it to them," Kofi added, lowering his eyes, ashamed to admit this.

"Well... If you still want redemption, today is your lucky day," Heron said, looking at the oncoming creatures.

Zeus, who had been silently watching the advancing army, suddenly raised his voice. It echoed all over Olympus.

"We make out stand here," he announced. "And rain down fire on them until there is nothing left but ash. No army has ever taken Olympus. And no army will!"

As he finished, Zeus raised his fist into the air, and lightning crackled around his form, the raw power of the storm gathering at his command. The air hummed with energy, ready to be released. Then, he turned to face their enemy once again, his eyes still glowing with the divine power.

"Fire!" he roared.

Their soldiers wasted no time in following his command. Before the echo silenced, all of their catapults released their shots. Flaming balls sailed through the air, many of them hitting their targets. But the giants were barely affected. They barely staggered, before continuing to push forward.

Some of their projectiles were sent back at the Olympus, and some of them were destroyed before they reached their destination. Everyone watched as the armies clashed.

Lyra's heart raced as she watched the carnage unfold before her eyes. She gripped her bow tightly, feeling the comforting weight of the weapon in her hands.

Zeus sent a lightning bolt down, in the middle of the demons' ranks. It took out almost half of them. Lyra barely had time to comprehend the destruction before Zeus turned to Heron, his expression grave.

"It's time, Heron," he said and the man nodded.

He turned to leave, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

"This is how you show the world who you really are," Zeus whispered, his voice low and full of meaning.

There was a look in his eyes, one of a father passing on his wisdom to his son, and Heron nodded again.

Then, they parted ways. The son of Zeus and the rest of the group went towards the spot, there the emptied projectiles were waiting for them. There were three of them, all ready and waiting.

"I always wanted to fly, but this is not what I had in mind," Evios mused, as he looked at the projectiles.

"You don't have to do this," Heron told the group, glancing at each of them. "You can stay and fight here."

"We know," came a low voice from behind him.

The demigod turned to find Ismene already inspecting one of the projectiles, her hands running over the worn metal. Then, she turned to look at him, raising a brow.

"But if we left you alone, who'd be there to make sure you didn't screw this up?" she continued.

Heron clenched his jaw, clearly irritated, but he said nothing. Instead, he glanced at Lyra and the others, but before he could speak, Lyra casually stepped closer to Kofi and Evios, giving him and Ismene a pointed look. She had no intention of getting pulled in the middle of their little spat.

"Right," Heron muttered under his breath, turning back to Ismene, who was still staring at him, a slight smirk on her lips as if daring him to challenge her.

"From the moment we met, I knew you were different," the woman continued, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Not in a good way, mind you. Just... touched by something. The gods, maybe. I've seen it before. But that doesn't mean I trust you any more than I did then."

"Glad to hear the feeling's mutual," Heron muttered, shooting her a glare.

"Good," Ismene said, her voice cool as she adjusted the bandage on her arm. "Let's just get this over with."

Heron sighed, his eyes briefly flitting to the rest of the group. Kofi and Evios were already clambering into one of the projectiles, while Lyra was nudging Alexia toward the second.

"Guess it's you and me, then," Heron muttered, resigning himself to sharing the last projectile with Ismene.

"Don't sound so excited," she shot back, but her eyes sparkled with the same mix of tension and determination that always seemed to hang between them.

With a tight-lipped frown, Heron climbed into the cramped space beside her, shifting awkwardly as the two settled in.

On the other side, Lyra threw him a quick smirk from her spot next to Alexia, clearly pleased with herself for avoiding the Ismene-Heron dynamic. Heron shot her a scowl in return, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

She raised her hands in mock surrender, before she squeezed herself beside the blonde, who had already got in position. Now, they just had to wait for the right moment, which stretched into what felt like an eternity as they waited, their breaths held in anxious anticipation.

When they finally felt the projectile being moved, their hearts leaped into their throats. The sensation of being launched into the air was disorienting, the world spinning around them in a blur of colours and sounds.

The landing was rough, jarring them as they crashed into the ground behind enemy lines. But they were uninjured, a small miracle in the chaos that surrounded them. They actually made it past their enemy's ranks, safely.

When they got to the camp, Heron took out his bow and shot an arrow in the sky, a sign they discussed with Zeus as a signal they got to their destination. The arrow glowed with a golden light as it flew high.

After this, they wasted no time in sneaking into the camp and looking around. The encampment was filled with mythical creatures, which were supposed to guard it – satyrs and nymphs walked around, carefully looking around.

When the group got to the heart of the camp, they struck.

Kofi was first, throwing his disc at the same time as Ismene threw her blade rings. Together, they cut off the heads of three satyrs, leaving only one in their sight. It managed to throw a spear at them, but the weapon shattered against Alexia's shield. before it could attack again, Lyra released an arrow.

True to Apollo's words, she had a feeling like the bow truly listened to her and made the shot easier. She didn't feel it strain as much, nor did she had any difficulty with aiming.

Even though she felt like she released the arrow to early, wanting to kill the satyr before it could attack again, it still struck true, right in the head.

Evios took care of the last nymph, that tried to sneak up on them. He quickly took off her arm with his whip, before cutting her in half. Lyra sent him a nod, especially when she noticed how close it was to actually attacking them.

Then, they started searching the wagons. However, with each one they checked, dread filled Lyra. All of them were empty, save for bones in a few of them. Other than that, they were dirtied with blood and both walls and the floor had scratch marks, as if some beast was held in there.

"It's not here," Heron announced, after he opened the last one.

"Heron, look!" Alexia called out.

Everyone looked towards where she was pointing. In a small distance from them, they could see the arrow Heron released earlier. But what shocked them was that it had two crows impaled on it.

The man looked up and for a moment, he simply looked at the dark clouds hanging above them. then, he heard a very faint, but unmistakable sound.

"Do you hear that?" he asked the rest.

"Hear what?" Alexia frowned.

Lyra also frowned, before she closed her eyes and focused on the sounds around them. despite the battle raging right next to them, she heard something else – a crow's cawing. Her eyes snapped open, as she looked towards Heron.

"I think I know where the cauldron is," he said, not taking his eyes off the sky.

Then, he let out a sharp whistle. Familiar howl sounded, just before his griffon landed in front of them. Heron quickly jumped onto its back and took off, not waiting for anyone else. They watched him go, until he disappeared behind the clouds.

Lyra wasn't sure how or when everything that came next happened. All she knew was that one moment, she and the rest got pulled into the battle, slashing and fighting against demons and minor gods and in the next, the world seemed to tilt, a blur of movement and sound where time lost all meaning.

The battlefield was a maelstrom of violence, with the clang of metal against metal and the screams of the wounded filling the air.

Every swing of her bow, every arrow she released, was met with the resistance of an enemy, and yet, there were always more—endless, unyielding.

Just as Lyra found a moment to breathe, a sudden commotion ahead caused everything to halt. The whole battlefield seemed to pause, as if time itself had been frozen. Even the most frenzied combatants stopped mid-strike, their attention drawn to the source of the disturbance.

Lyra's heart pounded in her chest as she followed their gazes, her breath catching when she saw it—a giant, towering above the battlefield, holding onto a much smaller, struggling figure.

A blinding light erupted from the scene, illuminating the battlefield in a harsh, unforgiving, blue glow. It blinded everyone momentarily, but Lyra tried to fight it, as she squinted, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. The figure in the giant's grasp... it couldn't be.

But it was.

It was Zeus.

The realization struck her like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs.

"No!" the word tore from her throat, a desperate scream that echoed across the battlefield.

Panic surged through her as she started forward, but Kofi's hand shot out, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. She struggled against his grip, her body thrumming with fear and fury, but he held on tight, refusing to let her go. Lyra's heart shattered with every agonizing second that passed.

Once it was finally over, the man let her go. It felt as if all strength has left her. Lyra's legs gave out beneath her, and Kofi finally released her, letting her slump to the ground. She could barely breathe, her chest heaving with silent sobs as the reality of what had happened sank in.

The mighty king of the gods was gone. The person she saw as her father, that was by her side through good and bad moments, helped and taught her everything she needed to survive... gone. Just like that.

The world seemed to spin around her, her vision blurred by tears. Everything felt distant, as though she were watching from outside her own body. The weight of the loss crushed her, and for a moment, she felt utterly hollow, as if all the strength had been drained from her.

But then, something inside her shifted. The sorrow that had paralyzed her transformed, hardening into something else—something darker. The grief was still there, raw and aching, but it was no longer alone. It was joined by a rising tide of fury, a searing rage that blazed through her like wildfire.

Her breath hitched as she forced herself to stand, her muscles trembling with the effort. The tears that had blurred her vision dried, replaced by a fierce, unyielding resolve. This wasn't over. It couldn't be over. She refused.

With a primal scream that ripped from the depths of her soul, Lyra threw herself back into the battle. The pain of loss fuelled her, turning every strike into a deadly arc of vengeance. She moved with the ferocity of a storm, her blows landing with doubled strength.

Every demon she felled was a small measure of retribution for what had been taken from her. She barely even noticed that the gods stopped fighting against them, instead turning on the giants and demons.

She fought with reckless abandon, heedless of the enemies that surrounded her. Her vision tunnelled, focused only on the next target, and the next, and the next.

The faces of her friends blurred together as they tried to follow her, to keep up with her relentless assault, but she was beyond hearing their calls, beyond feeling their hands as they tried to pull her back. She was lost in her rage, consumed by the need to make them all pay.

But the enemy's numbers were too great. For every demon she cut down, two more took its place. She was outnumbered, surrounded on all sides, but she didn't care. She pushed forward, her body moving on pure instinct, her mind focused only on the fight.

Kofi called out to her, his voice hoarse with desperation, but she didn't hear him. Alexia tried to reach her, but Lyra was already too far ahead, her movements too swift, too chaotic. Even Evios and Ismene, their faces set with grim determination, couldn't keep pace with her.

Lyra felt the sting of a blade slice across her arm, but she barely registered the pain. She spun around, her knife slashing through the air, cutting down the demon that had dared to touch her.

But there were too many. They swarmed her, pressing in from all sides, overwhelming her with sheer numbers.

A heavy blow struck her from behind, sending her sprawling to the ground. She tried to push herself up, but another strike landed, this time across her back, driving the air from her lungs.

Her vision darkened, the world around her fading into a blur of shadows and blood. But even as the darkness closed in, she refused to surrender. She would keep fighting, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

With a final, defiant cry, Lyra forced herself to her feet, her body trembling with exhaustion. She raised her sword, ready to strike down the next enemy, but her movements were sluggish, her limbs heavy. The swarm of demons closed in around her, their eyes gleaming with malevolent glee.

Lyra's sword slipped from her grasp, clattering to the ground. She staggered, her vision narrowing to a single point of light, far in the distance. The sounds of the battle faded, replaced by the pounding of her own heart, growing slower with each beat.

The last thing she saw before the darkness claimed her was the sky above, still lit with the giants overpowering the gods, the memory of their seemingly final loss etched into her mind.

Then, there was nothing.

Heron saw Kofi jump down from the griffon, slipping onto Seraphim's manticore and catching the demon by surprise. Before his brother even had a chance to realise what was going on, the dark-skinned mad had already secured a tight grip around him, putting the demon in a chokehold.

The cauldron Seraphim held onto slipped from his grasp, right into Heron's awaiting hands. After Alexia caught him, riding on Pegasi, as his griffon was killed during the first struggle for the cauldron, they flew towards the manticore, making a quick work of taking the box back.

But Seraphim was not so easily subdued. Kofi underestimated the demon's strength. With a fierce snarl, Seraphim caught Kofi's hand and twisted it with brutal force. Kofi felt the sharp pain as his bones cracked, and he groaned in agony.

With a sudden, violent movement, Seraphim threw Kofi off his manticore, sending him plummeting toward the ground. Luckily, Evios was already there, waiting to catch his companion.

Kofi landed on the griffon's wing, the impact sending them both downward in a controlled descent. They were shaken, but unharmed. They've done their part. Now, they just had to wait for the results.

As Seraphim was focused on them, he was unaware of the danger lurking beneath him. Alexia, hanging under his beast, had approached unnoticed.

With swift precision, she slashed the creature's belly open, killing it almost instantly. The manticore let out a final, pained roar before it collapsed, sending both its rider and the Amazonian tumbling toward the ground.

Enraged, Seraphim twisted in the air, his eyes locking onto Alexia. With a guttural roar, he hurled his bident at her with such force that it struck her shield, the impact sending her sliding back several meters before she lost her balance and fell.

It was only thanks to her shield, which was impenetrable, that she was still alive, but the force of the attack left her vulnerable, sprawled on the ground.

Seeing his chance, Seraphim descended with murderous intent, his eyes glowing with the promise of death. Just as he raised his weapon to deliver the killing blow, Heron leaped into action, jumping down from the Pegasi.

His brother shielded himself with his arms just in time. Heron jumped off of them, rolling away from him and taking out his bow. He quickly sent an arrow at the demon, but Seraphim simply swiped it to the side.

He sent his bident in counterattack. The man acted quickly, first ducking, then grabbing weapon mid-air. He twisted his body and punched Seraphim in the face. The force of the blow sent the demon tumbling to the ground, his brother on top of him.

The rage and grief in Heron's eyes were unmistakable. He sent punch after punch at his brother, sending shockwaves through their surroundings. When the ground broke beneath them, Heron paused and panted.

His eyes spotted a golden glimmer near them. As he looked towards it, he saw a half of his father's headpiece. Then, he heard his voice.

"It's time, Heron."

Tears filled his eyes, as the images of their last meeting and Zeus' death flashed in his eyes. With this images still in mind, he sent another punch at his brother's face. More flashes of memories. Another punch. More memories.

But when he went for another punch, Seraphim caught his fist just before it made contact. And while Heron was struggling against his grip, the demon attacked.

He sent his clawed fingers at his brother's face, piercing the flesh. The man let out a pained yelp, just before Seraphim smashed him into the ground, before throwing him across their small clearing.

Heron's back hit the stone with a lout crack, sending a joint of pain up his spine. He quickly recovered, spitting out the blood that gathered in his mouth. When he looked at his brother again, Seraphim's words came to his mind.

"Look at what they've done to us. They've ruined out lives! Our mother is dead because of them! Join me, brother."

"So you can rule?" he replied back then.

Rage filled him again, as he charged at Seraphim. He went for a punch, but his brother simply side-stepped with a small smirk playing on his lips. His red eyes sparked, before two arms wrapped around the man, putting him in an unbreakable chokehold.

Heron's feet were lifted off the ground as he struggled to pry his brother's arm away from his neck.

Meanwhile, Seraphim glanced towards where his bident was stabbed into the ground. With only a thought, he sent the weapon flying through the air towards them.

The man quickly caught onto what was going on and grabbed the bident just before it could pierce him. The two of them struggled, before Heron's eyes caught the sight before them – Olympus destroyed by giants. The one thing his father wanted to prevent.

And as he stood there, struggling to keep the weapon from piercing his skin, the lesson his father taught him came back to him.

"Not all foes can be defeated by strength or anger. True power is found when one is calm."

Tears filled his eyes as he understood what had to be done. This whole time he was so afraid of failing everyone. Of failing his father. Of death. Most of his actions were either empowered by fear or anger. But now, he finally understood what his father truly meant. He must let go of his fear.

"Turn inward."

"Enough! Heron, let your anger go! Turn inward."

So that's what he did. Closing his eyes, he let go of all this rage and anger that build up over the years, over the last few weeks. He willed his mind to become blank, forget about his anger and fear, letting the calmness wash over him instead.

Then, he stopped fighting.

The pain he felt when the weapon pierced his skin was indescribable. It was unlike anything he felt before. But he didn't let this stop him. Instead, he welcomed it and let it empower him for what he had to do next.

He barely felt Seraphim's arms lighten their hold, before letting go. His brother's eyes widened, as he looked down at his younger twin. Never, in his wildest dreams, did he ever imagine his brother actually giving up his fight.

That was until the man staggered back into his arms and pushed the bident further into his chest. The weapon pierced him inside out, stabbing into Seraphim's own chest.

The demon gasped as his own weapon went through him. They staggered back, into the stone wall behind them. The spear-like end of the spear stabbed into the stone, pinning them into place.

Seraphim threw his hand out and willed for his weapon to be thrown away from them, only for Heron to push against it, back into their chests. Just as he thought he would actually win this struggle, the demigod pushed the bident back into the wall.

When Heron believed he achieved his goal, he finally let go.

Both brothers stumbled as the force of bident leaving their bodies threw them forward.

Heron still tried to fight, but both of them were too weak and in too much pain to go on. So, he simply leaned his forehead against his brother's chest and they stood like this for a moment, their pants the only sound filling the air.

They both suffered a lot more than average person did in life. They were both beaten and lost the only person they cared about. Now, they only had each other.

"For the sake of our mother, I will ask you one last time. You are either with me... or against me."

With a small, self-confident smirk, Seraphim pulled Heron's head back, ready to hear his brother finally admit he chose the wrong side. That they would stand side-by-side, even if these would most likely by their last moments.

But the hint of smirk vanished, when his brother opened his eyes.

"If that is what the choice must be... I'm against you."

Heron's eyes glowed with the same divine power his father possessed. He grabbed his brother's jaw and the sky answered his call. Multiple lightnings, one after another, rained down on them.

Seraphim screamed, as he felt the impact, his body unable to hold itself up any longer. He collapsed into Heron's arms, leaning on his brother heavily.

None of them was sure how long they've stayed like this. Their moment, however, was interrupted by a sudden appearance of the giant everyone was sure died. After all, Zeus sacrificed his life to defeat him.

And yet, the giant slowly rose, half of his body melted off and destroyed. It raised its hand, ready to crush the two brothers.

That's when Heron spotted the cauldron lying near them. Gathering whatever strength was left inside him, he pulled Seraphim onto his back and ran towards the box. Just as they reached it, the hand came down.

For a moment, everything was quiet.

Then, red essence started flowing out of giants, one by one. Their bodies fell, lifeless, as their souls were once again gathered into the cauldron.

Once it was done, Heron finally let himself breath in relief and rest.

Chapter Text

When everyone saw lightnings raining down from the sky, they could only watch with wide eyes. Everyone knew Zeus died, and yet, his powers were still present. And most knew who was responsible for it.

After this, the battle finished fairly quickly. No one was sure what exactly happened, but suddenly the giants fell, their essences leaving their bodies. Demons, seeing that, quickly retreated. Many fell while doing so. Only a handful actually got away.

Now, the battlefield was eerily silent, the once thunderous clashing of weapons and the cries of war now replaced by the quiet aftermath of devastation.

The gods moved among the wreckage, searching for their allies, the wounded, and the dead. Scattered around them were the bodies of demons, left where they had fallen, their blood soaking into the earth.

These foul creatures would soon be washed away by Poseidon, but for now, the gods had to focus on their own. Despite the betrayal, the gods still deserved to be honoured, as they only followed their Queen. And no matter how much it stung, some had to admit, that no side was without a fault.

Apollo was among those searching, his eyes scanning the field with increasing anxiety. He had already seen too much death today, but the absence of two people gnawed at his heart—Lyra and Heron.
When only Alexia, Ismene, Kofi, and Evios had returned, his concern deepened into outright fear.

"They should have been back by now," Apollo muttered, mostly to himself.

His golden eyes flickered with worry as he turned to leave, intent on searching the battlefield himself. But Artemis stepped in front of him, placing a firm hand on his chest.

"You're not in any condition to go out there," she said, her tone gentle but resolute. "You're still weak from your wounds, and you know it."

"I don't care," Apollo snapped, though the sharpness in his tone was born more from fear than anger. "I can't just stand here and do nothing while they might be—"

He broke off, unable to finish the thought. Artemis held his gaze, her heart aching for her brother.

She knew how much Lyra meant to him, how deeply he cared for her. It wasn't just a mortal infatuation—what he felt for Lyra was something far more profound, more eternal. She hadn't seen him this way since Hyacinth. But she also knew that Apollo was in no condition to search the battlefield himself.

"I know, but you'll be no help to her or anyone else if you collapse out there. I'll go. I'll find them and bring them back. I promise."

After a moment of hesitation, Apollo reluctantly nodded. He knew she was right, but it didn't ease the ache in his chest.

"Please," he whispered. "Find them. Find her."

Artemis nodded once, determination flashing in her eyes. She turned and began her search, moving swiftly and silently across the battlefield.

The ground was littered with the fallen, the stench of blood and death thick in the air. But the goddess focused on the task at hand, her sharp eyes scanning every figure she passed.

As she wove her way through the remnants of the battle, something caught her attention—a cluster of demon corpses, all surrounding a single, smaller figure. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the familiar silhouette.

Lyra.

Artemis rushed to her side, her breath catching in her throat and heart clenching with sorrow as she knelt beside the young woman. Lyra's breathing was shallow and raspy, her skin pale and cold to the touch. The light in her eyes had dimmed, flickering like a dying flame.

"Lyra," Artemis whispered, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face.

There was no response, only the faintest rise and fall of her chest. The woman's body was battered, multiple stab wounds and slashes covering her torso. What remained of her armour was stained with blood – both her own and that of the enemies.

It was clear she had fought fiercely, taking down many enemies before succumbing to her injuries.

But now, she lay deathly still, her breathing shallow and laboured, her life hanging by a thread.

With a heavy heart, Artemis gently scooped Lyra up in her arms. She knew time was running out. There was no way Lyra could survive this without immediate help, and even then, the odds were slim.

She hurried back to Olympus, her steps quick but careful, knowing she had to reach Apollo before it was too late. He was Lyra's only hope now.

When Artemis finally found him, her brother talking with Alexander and Callista. His face was drawn with worry, and when he saw his sister approaching, his blood ran cold as he saw the look on her face. He knew, even before she said a word, that something was terribly wrong.

"Artemis..." Apollo's voice faltered as he noticed the gravity in her expression.

He quickly excused himself from the twins, telling them to go find Kofi instead, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Is she...?"

Artemis looked at him with sorrowful eyes, pulling him aside.

"It's bad, Apollo," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "She doesn't have much time."

Apollo felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him. He quickly turned to the twins, that were still there, watched them with wide, curious eyes. They seemed so happy and hopeful that Apollo had no heart to tell them the news, just yet. Not while he still believed there was a chance to change the outcome.

"Find Kofi and the others," he ordered once more, his voice hoarse with urgency. "Find them and stay with them until it is decided otherwise."

He didn't wait for their reply. His vision blurred with tears as he followed Artemis to the medical building where she had placed Lyra before finding him.

The moment they entered, Apollo's eyes fell on the small figure lying on a bed, her skin pale, and her breathing weak. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at Lyra, his mind refusing to accept what he was seeing.

Hermes was there too, carefully lowering Heron's unconscious body onto a nearby cot. Apollo felt that Heron was injured but stable—even with his wounds, though serious, he was faring much better. But Lyra... Apollo could see and feel that she was fading fast.

This was exactly what he had seen during one of his visions. Exactly what he feared, hence why he questioned her about becoming a goddess so soon. And yet, here he was, still too late.

Hermes turned to his brother, his usual light-hearted demeanour gone, replaced by a sombre expression. He, too, had grown fond of Lyra during the time she had spent with them, but he knew that his sorrow was nowhere near as great as Apollo's.

"Apollo, I'm so sorry..."

The sun god knelt beside Lyra, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch her cheek. Her skin was cold, her pulse faint.

Apollo's healing powers had always been a source of pride for him, a gift that allowed him to mend wounds and cure ailments that no one else could. So he tried. He closed his eyes, trying to summon his healing powers, but he knew they were weakened by his own injuries.

Even at full strength, he wasn't sure if he could save her. Now, it seemed impossible.

Still, he didn't let that stop him. He clenched his jaw, his frustration and despair warring with the love he felt for the woman lying before him.

His hands trembled as he continued to pour what little energy he had into her, refusing to give up. But deep down, he knew Artemis was right. Lyra was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do. Finally, he let go with a heavy sigh.

"I don't think I can heal her," he whispered, his voice shaking with fear and despair as he looked up at Artemis and Hermes, who had joined him by Lyra's bedside. "She's... she's too far gone."

"She's lost too much blood," Hermes said quietly, his voice heavy with grief. "I don't think there's anything more we can do."

Apollo's heart ached. He couldn't lose her, not like this. He lost too many people who were important to him already. He wasn't ready to let another one go, just yet. Especially not when he felt like she was much more than simply a lover.

As Lyra's breathing grew fainter, Apollo leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, his tears falling onto her face.

"I love you, Lyra," he whispered, his voice trembling with grief. "Please... Please, don't leave me."

He still tried to pour every little bit he had to spare of his powers into her, still tried to at least keep her alive until he got better and could heal her.

Artemis stood back, her heart breaking as she watched her brother crumble before her. She had seen many losses in her long life, but this... this was different. She knew how deeply Apollo loved Lyra, how much she meant to him. To see him in such pain was almost unbearable.

"I'm sorry," Artemis whispered, though she knew there was nothing she could do to ease his pain.

But as Apollo sat there, despair washing over him, something caught Hermes' eye. A glint of metal, peeking out from under the bloodstained fabric of Lyra's shirt. His brow furrowed in curiosity, and he gently reached out, carefully pulling the chain free.

A small vial, delicate and almost ethereal in its design, hung from the chain.

"What is this?" Hermes asked, holding the vial up for Apollo and Artemis to see.

Apollo's breath caught in his throat as he saw the vial. He recognized it immediately—how could he not? It was almost identical to the one he had used a long time ago, the one that had changed Hyacinth from a mortal into a god.

His heart pounded in his chest as the realization hit him – this vial contained the power to make Lyra a goddess.

"It's a vial of ambrosia and nectar... and a few other ingredients. It's a very powerful mixture," he murmured, his eyes widening. "Just like the one I used for Hyacinth."

Hermes' eyes widened in realization as he remembered what Zeus had told him about such vials. This was no ordinary trinket; it was a gift from Zeus himself, containing the power to ascend a mortal into godhood.

Still, the messenger god glanced between the vial and Apollo, his expression a mix of surprise and concern.

"Are you saying that this... this could make her a goddess?"

Apollo nodded, his mind racing as he realized what Zeus must have done. The smallest hint of smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The old god had given Lyra this vial, knowing that she might one day need it. He had seen something in her, something worthy of immortality. Not everything was lost, yet.

Artemis stared at the vial, then looked at Apollo, understanding dawning on her face.

"Are you sure this is what she would want?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "Becoming a goddess... it's not something to be taken lightly. What if she didn't want this?"

Apollo's gaze softened as he looked down at Lyra, his thumb gently brushing her cold cheek.

"I asked her about this before the battle," he said quietly. "I asked her if she would ever consider it—becoming a goddess, staying with me forever. She told me... she told me that maybe, one day, when her family didn't need her so much, she might consider it. But not yet. Not while they still relied on her."

His voice wavered for a second as he continued, the memory of that conversation flooding back to him.

"But now... now she doesn't have that choice. It's either this, or she dies. And I can't... I can't lose her, Artemis. Not when there's still a chance. Besides, this way she can still stay by her siblings' side."

He added the last sentence hoping to convince himself that he wasn't doing this for purely selfish reasons, but deep down, he knew the truth. The main reason he wanted this was so he wouldn't have to part with her, so he could keep her by his side.

Artemis bit her lip, her eyes filled with uncertainty. She grew to care for Lyra deeply as well, and the thought of losing her was unbearable. But this... this was a monumental decision, one that would change Lyra's life forever. Could they really make that choice for her?

"Apollo," Hermes said, his voice steady and calm, "Are you sure this is what you want? What she wants? Once you do this, there's no going back."

Apollo looked up at Hermes, his eyes shining with determination.

"I've already seen this coming," he admitted, his voice heavy with the weight of his foresight. "I had dreams... visions. I didn't know what they meant at first, but I knew something terrible was going to happen to Lyra. I didn't know it would be this, but... I've been preparing myself for the possibility. I won't let her die, Hermes. Not if I can save her."

His siblings exchanged one last glance, their concern evident, but they knew there was no stopping Apollo now. He had made up his mind, and they could see the love and desperation driving his decision.

"She deserves to live," the sun god continued, his voice resolute. "And if this is the only way to save her, then I'll do it. I love her, and I won't let her slip away if I can help it."

"Then let's do this," his sister said softly, her voice tinged with sadness.

With trembling hands, Apollo carefully uncorked the vial, his heart pounding as he prepared to give Lyra the divine essence that would change her life forever.

He hesitated only for a second, before he gently tilted her head back, letting a few drops of the liquid touch her lips. The moment the liquid made contact, it shimmered with a faint golden glow, seeping into her skin.

For a moment, nothing happened. Apollo held his breath, his hands clutching hers as he prayed for a miracle.

Then, slowly, the glow began to spread, enveloping Lyra's body in a soft, warm light. Her breathing, which had been shallow and weak, gradually deepened. The wounds on her body started to close, the blood stopping its relentless flow.

They watched in awe as Lyra's transformation began. The divine essence was doing its work, but it was clear that this was only the beginning. The process of ascension was slow and painful, but it was Lyra's only chance at survival.

Apollo stayed by her side, refusing to let go of her hand, his eyes never leaving her face.

He knew this was the right choice, but the fear of the unknown still gnawed at him. Would she be the same Lyra after this? Would she accept what had been done to her? Only time would tell.

But for now, all Apollo could do was wait and hope that he had made the right decision.

Heron woke up with a soft groan, as the sunshine hit his eyes. His body ached with every breath, the bandages wrapped tightly around his chest and limbs reminding him of the battle they had just survived.

He blinked slowly, his mind groggy as he tried to piece together the fragments of memories from the night before.

The man tried to sit up, wincing as pain shot through his side. He managed to prop himself up on one elbow, his gaze sweeping the room. He recognized the place—he was back at the Olympus. But something felt different, heavier, as if the air itself carried the weight of the events that had transpired.

His gaze drifting toward the window, where he could see gods and goddesses working tirelessly to repair the damage done to Olympus, working with Hephaestus' mechanical warriors. Then, his gaze went up, until it finally rested on the golden statue on top of the mountain.

His father's statue. Heron's chest tightened.

Then, he noticed the faint murmur of voices, coming from just beyond the doorway.

"He was very proud of you," he heard someone say.

As he turned his head, Heron saw Hermes standing at the foot of his bed, a solemn expression on his face. Apollo and Hephaestus were also there. The former was covered in red burn-like markings and had a bandage wrapped around his chest.

"As we all are, brother," the messenger god continued, as the blonde stepped forward and lifted his hand.

There, there was the pedant his mother always wore around her neck. Golden-blue medallion, that after opening, revealed two stones inside. One blue and the other one brown.

Like the colour of his and Seraphim's eyes, when they were born.

He gently ran his thumb over the eagle symbol on top of it.

The pain of loss was still fresh, raw and unyielding. He turned the pendant over in his hand, feeling the weight of it, as if it carried the last remnants of his parents' love.

But even as he held onto that, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else, something more pressing.

"What's going on?" Heron asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze shifting between his brothers. "You're not telling me everything."

The room grew tense, the air thick with unspoken words. Hermes and Apollo exchanged a glance, something unspoken passing between them. The latter's eyes flickered with something—pain, regret, guilt—and Heron's heart sank. Whatever it was, it was bad.

"It's Lyra, Heron..." the sun god muttered.

Heron felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under him. His heart clenched painfully as he forced himself to sit up, ignoring the stabbing pain in his side.

"What do you mean 'It's Lyra' Where is she?"

"We'll take you to her," Hermes said gently, placing a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder. "But-"

Heron didn't wait for any further explanation. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, gritting his teeth against the pain, and struggled to his feet.

His brothers moved to support him, but he shook them off, determination driving him forward. He had to see Lyra. He had to know she was okay.

They led him down the corridor, the weight of their silence pressing heavily on his shoulders.

When they finally reached the door to the medical room, Heron paused, his hand hovering over the door handle. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever he might find on the other side.

When they reached the room, Heron's heart nearly stopped. Alexander and Callista were there, curled up on either side of Lyra, fast asleep. The twins looked exhausted, their faces streaked with dried tears. Heron's gaze shifted to Lyra, and for a moment, relief flooded through him.

She seemed okay, not a single wound on her, and she looked peaceful, almost as if she were simply resting. But something was off—something he couldn't quite place.

"She was badly injured during the battle," Apollo said quietly. "Artemis found her fairly quickly, but Lyra... she was..."

The god couldn't bring himself to finish.

The man stepped closer, his heart pounding in his chest as he took in the sight of her. There was something about her that seemed different. Her skin had a faint, otherworldly glow, and her breathing was so slow and shallow that it was almost imperceptible.

Heron's heart ached with the need to reach out and touch her, to shake her awake, but he held back, afraid of what he might find.

"What... what's happening to her?" Heron asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he turned to Apollo.

He could see the conflict in his brother's eyes, the way he hesitated before speaking.

"The only way to save her..." Apollo began, his voice heavy with the weight of the decision. "Was to ascend her."

Heron's eyes widened, the words hitting him like a blow to the chest.

"Ascend her?" he repeated, his voice rising with a mix of anger and disbelief. "You turned her into a goddess?"

"We had no choice," the sun god replied. "She was dying, Heron. There was nothing else I could do. If we hadn't used the vial Zeus gave her, she wouldn't have survived."

Heron's hands clenched into fists, the anger bubbling up inside him.

"But did she want this?" he demanded, his voice shaking. "Did you even ask her? What if she didn't want to be a goddess? What if—"

Hermes stepped in, his hand resting on Heron's shoulder, his voice calm and soothing.

"Heron, I know this is a lot to take in. But you have to understand—we did what we had to do to save her life. Apollo made the choice because he knew it was the only way. And Lyra... Apollo had asked her about this. At the time, she turned it down, but she already knew that one day, she'll take him up on this."

Heron's anger wavered, the truth in Hermes' words cutting through his rage. He looked down at Lyra, his heart breaking at the sight of her lying there, so still and silent.

The thought of losing her had been unbearable, but now the reality of what had been done to save her weighed heavily on his soul.

Apollo spoke again, his voice softer now, filled with a deep, abiding love.

"Heron, I didn't want this for her, either. I wanted to give her time, for her to make that decision for herself when she knew she was ready. But she was slipping away... and I couldn't just stand by and let her die."

Heron closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him.

He knew his brothers were right—they had saved Lyra's life, and for that, he was grateful. But the cost of that salvation, the transformation she had undergone... it was something they would all have to live with.

She was turning into immortal and he knew that because of this, they'll have to part ways much sooner than he imagined. After all, he was still just a mortal and sooner or later, he'd have to leave the Olympus, while she'll have to remain here.

Slowly, Heron's anger began to fade, replaced by a deep sense of sadness and acceptance. He looked down at Lyra again, reaching out to gently take her hand in his. Her skin was warm, her pulse steady, but she still didn't stir.

"What happens now?" Heron asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

Apollo sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at Lyra.

"We wait," he said simply. "The process of ascension takes time. She'll wake up eventually, but when she does... she'll be different. She'll be one of us."

Heron nodded slowly, his thumb gently brushing against the back of Lyra's hand. He could see the changes in her already—the faint glow of divinity, the sense of something greater lingering just beneath the surface.

He stayed by Lyra's side, holding her hand as the minutes ticked by, praying that when she finally opened her eyes, she would still be the woman he knew and loved.

Gods and goddesses milled about, their laughter and conversations filling the air. The atmosphere was serene, a stark contrast to the chaos that had recently engulfed Olympus. But one figure stood slightly apart, his gaze thoughtful as he watched the ripples on the surface of the pool.

Apollo sat on the edge of the large pool, his legs dangling in the water as he absently traced patterns on the surface.

His mind was far from the peaceful surroundings, still lingering on the events that had unfolded—the battles, the losses, and Lyra. His heart ached with worry and guilt, though he tried to push it aside, focusing instead on the faint hope that she would wake up soon.

"Apollo."

The voice was soft, familiar, and carried with it a gentle breeze that ruffled Apollo's golden hair. He looked up to see Hyacinth standing a few steps away, his expression a mix of concern and warmth.

The young god looked much as he always had—eternally youthful, with purple eyes, the shade exactly like the flower named after him, and a gentle, reassuring presence that had once captured Apollo's heart.

The sight of him brought a small smile to the sun god's lips, though it was tinged with sadness.

"Hyacinth," he greeted, motioning for him to join him. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Hyacinth approached and sat beside Apollo, dipping his own feet into the cool water. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them comfortable, yet heavy with unspoken thoughts.

"I heard about Lyra," Hyacinth finally said, breaking the silence. "I wanted to see how you were holding up."

"I'm... managing. It's been difficult, but she's strong. I believe she'll pull through."

Hyacinth nodded, his eyes soft with understanding.

"She sounds remarkable. I wish I had the chance to meet her properly."

"You would've liked her," Apollo said with a faint smile. "She's... different. Strong-willed, stubborn, but with a heart that's just as fierce."

Then, he noticed Alexia and Kofi sitting together on a bench not too far away, deep in conversation.

Nearby, Evios was sitting at the edge of the pool, his charming smile directed at Aphrodite, who seemed to be enjoying the attention, laughing at something he said. The sight brought a small chuckle to Apollo's lips.

"What is it?" Hyacinth asked, noticing Apollo's amusement.

"Just... watching Heron's friends," Apollo said, nodding towards them.

"They seem to be doing well," his former lover remarked, following the blonde's gaze.

"Yes, they do," the sun god agreed.

There was another pause, filled only by the soft sounds of the pool and the distant conversations of the other gods. Then, Hyacinth spoke again, his voice hesitant.

"Apollo... are you still angry with me? For choosing Zephyr?"

Apollo looked up, surprised by the question. He studied his former lover's face, seeing the genuine concern there, and felt a pang of guilt for the bitterness he had once harboured. He reached out, placing a hand on the younger god's shoulder.

"No, Hyacinth," he said softly. "I'm not angry anymore. I had time to get over it, to understand that it was your choice. I was hurt, yes, but I've moved on."

"I never wanted to hurt you, Apollo," Hyacinth frowned, a flicker of sadness crossing his features.

"I know," the sun god replied, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. "And if it wasn't for everything that happened, I might not have found my way to Lyra. I wouldn't have had the chance to know her. She's helped me heal in ways I never expected. I wouldn't have had the chance to know her, to care for her, if I hadn't moved on."

Hyacinth's expression softened, a smile forming on his lips.

"I'm glad you've found peace, Apollo. Truly. And I'm happy you have Lyra in your life, that you found someone who means so much to you."

"Thank you," Apollo said, his smile growing warmer. "I'm happy too."

He made a small pause, before glancing towards the god beside him.

"I've miss you, you know that?" he admitted quietly. "I miss our conversations and simply spending time with you."

"I miss that too," Hyacinth nodded. "But maybe we don't have to anymore. What do you say about rebuilding what we once had? But maybe not as lovers, but as friends, this time."

Apollo's face brightened at the thought.

"I'd like that very much."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the tension between them dissipating like mist under the afternoon sun.

Just then, Heron appeared at the entrance of the garden. His steps were slow, but determined, as he made his way over to his friends.

Apollo watched as Kofi and Alexia noticed him, their faces lighting up with relief and happiness. Kofi stood and clapped Heron on the back, while Evios sauntered over, offering a teasing comment that made Heron roll his eyes, though a smile tugged at his lips. Next, it was Alexia who pulled him into a tight hug.

Heron's arms wrapped around her, and for a moment, Heron let himself soak in the comfort that came from this hug. Apollo noticed how a quick, but strong bond had been formed between the two. And yet, it couldn't even compare to the bond the god saw between his brother and the last person to approach him.

Ismene approached slowly, her expression unreadable until she got close enough to deliver a sharp, but not-too-serious punch to Heron's arm. The man winced slightly, but before he could react, she pulled him into a quick, tight hug, lingering just long enough to convey what words couldn't.

There was something unspoken in the way she leaned into him—something real, even if neither of them would admit it.

Heron's arms came around her, his movements slightly hesitant, but the embrace felt easy, natural.

When Ismene finally pulled back, there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes, and Heron could only shake his head, the small smile still playing on his lips.

Apollo could see it—the change in them, the ease that had replaced their earlier tension. They weren't lovers, not yet, but even Apollo could sense it now. The way they stood side by side, that brief moment of shared silence, spoke louder than words. It was only a matter of time.

With a small smirk on his lips, Apollo leaned back, soaking in the comfort of quiet peace around them. It felt good to let go of the past, to embrace the present and the future with a clear heart.

Chapter Text

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the garden, Apollo and Hyacinth continued their quiet conversation. The golden light reflected off the pool's surface, creating ripples of warmth that seemed to soothe the tension of the past few days.

Apollo glanced at Hyacinth, grateful for the chance to reconnect, to rebuild their friendship. But as the conversation naturally slowed, the blonde found his thoughts drifting back to Lyra.

The weight of her fate still hung heavily over him, a burden he couldn't shake. Even now, as she lay in a deep slumber, her fate uncertain, he felt an overwhelming responsibility to see her through this transition, to ensure she made it to the other side as more than just a casualty of war.

"I should check on Lyra," he said, breaking the silence.

His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if speaking her name out loud would make the reality of her situation all the more real.

Hyacinth nodded in understanding, his eyes filled with a gentle empathy.

"Of course. She needs you now more than ever."

Apollo stood, his movements slow, as though the weight of the world was pressing down on him. The younger god rose as well, offering a comforting hand on his former lover's shoulder.

"If you ever need to talk, or just some company, you know where to find me."

"Thank you, Hyacinth," the sun god smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "That means a lot."

With a final nod, Apollo turned and began walking back toward the medical quarters where Lyra rested.

He reached the medical wing, and as they entered, Apollo felt a wave of cool air wash over him. The room was quiet, save for the gentle hum of divine energy that filled the space.

Lyra looked peaceful, almost as if she were merely asleep, but there was an ethereal quality to her now, something that set her apart from the mortal girl she had been.

Apollo felt a deep, gnawing sense of guilt. Had he made the right decision? Had he saved Lyra only to condemn her to a different kind of existence, one she might not have chosen for herself if she actually had time to think over this?

"I had to do it," he murmured, quietly to himself. "I couldn't let her die."

"We know," Hermes said softly, startling Apollo, who shirled around to face both him and Artemis, who just walked into the room. "And she will understand that. But we also have to be prepared for whatever comes next."

The blonde nodded, though his heart felt heavy. He had done what he thought was right, but now, as he looked at Lyra lying there, so still and silent, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had lost something precious.

They stood in silence for a long moment, the weight of their thoughts pressing down on them. Then, Apollo spoke, his voice firmer this time.

"We'll do whatever it takes to help her," he said, his gaze never leaving Lyra's peaceful face. "I'll do whatever it takes."

Artemis and Hermes exchanged a look, and then both nodded in agreement.

"We'll be with you every step of the way," the goddess said, her voice full of determination.

"Absolutely," the god added. "We're family. We take care of each other."

Their brother gave them a grateful smile, though it was tinged with sadness. He knew they meant well, and he appreciated their support more than words could express.

As they stood there, a soft knock came at the door. They turned to see Alexander and Callista standing in the doorway, their faces full of concern.

The twins had been with Lyra since she was brought back, never leaving her side except when Heron took them to wash and eat something.

Now, they looked at Apollo, their eyes pleading for some kind of reassurance. And the god did his best to give them a small, reassuring smile.

"She's going to be okay," he said, though he wasn't entirely sure if he was trying to convince them or himself.

Alexander and Callista nodded, though they still looked worried. They came over to the bed, standing on either side of Lyra, their hands resting on hers. He stepped back, joining his siblings on the other side of the room.

The sight of them, so small and vulnerable, tugged at Apollo's heart. They had already lost so much—he couldn't bear the thought of them losing Lyra too.

He knew how much they depended on her, how she had been their rock, their protector. The thought of them suffering without her, of them being left to fend for themselves in a world that could be so cruel, was almost too much to bear.

"I promised her I'd take care of them," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I promised her."

"And you will," Artemis assured him, her hand resting gently on his arm. "We all will. But we need to be prepared for the possibility that she might not wake up... or that she might not be the same when she does."

Apollo's gaze shifted back to Lyra, his heart clenching at the thought. He knew what Artemis was saying was true. The process of ascension changed a person, sometimes in ways that were irreversible.

But there was a reason only those of pure heart and intentions survived the process. He was sure that Lyra did and he had to believe that Lyra's spirit, her fierce determination, would survive this. She just had to.

"I'm not giving up on her," Apollo said firmly, his jaw set in determination. "She's fought too hard to get this far. I won't let her go now."

As the first stars began to twinkle in the sky, the door to the room creaked open, and Hermes slipped back inside, after leading the twins to Heron's room, like they asked. He moved silently to join his brother, his gaze flickering to Lyra before settling on Apollo.

"How is she?" Hermes asked, his voice hushed.

Apollo shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips.

"No change yet."

The younger god held back a sigh and pulled his lips into a thin line. Then, he put a hand on his brother's shoulder, making the blonde look up at him.

"She's strong. She'll pull through."

Apollo appreciated the words, but he could hear the uncertainty beneath them. They all knew how serious this situation was. But they still held onto the hope that everything will turn out just fine.

He spent every moment he could by Lyra's side, willing her to wake up. He used every ounce of his still weakened power to stabilize her condition, but there was only so much he could do.

They didn't have much intel on ascension, as few of the gods were born mortals. The best source of knowledge about this was Hyacinth's transformation, but Apollo knew that each process was different.

During the time his former lover went through that transformation, he tried to base it off Psyche's ascension, only to grow more nervous and scared each time something different happened–some process took longer, something happened faster, something didn't happen at all, something happened that didn't happen with Psyche, et cetera.

All of this only brough him unnecessary stress and anxiety.

This time, he only loosely tried to put everything into time frames, feeling each change Lyra went through. He had two different ascension to compare it with and based on them and his own knowledge of medicine and gift of prophecy, he tried to predict when which change should happen. Surprisingly, he's been mostly accurate with his guesses.

But the divine energy that had fused with her was beyond his control, a force that neither he nor the other gods fully understood. Still, he didn't give up. He couldn't.

And as the night deepened, Apollo found himself alone once again, lost in thought, his gaze fixed on Lyra's peaceful face. The room was quiet, the only sounds being Lyra's soft breaths and the faint rustle of leaves outside the window.

It was in that quiet moment that something changed.

A soft glow began to emanate from Lyra's body, growing brighter and more intense with each passing second. The air in the room seemed to thrum with energy, a pulse that matched the rhythm of Apollo's heartbeat.

He felt it—a connection, a surge of power that was both familiar and foreign.

He remained where he was, his gaze locked on Lyra as the light enveloped her, cocooning her in a radiant aura.

The glow intensified, becoming almost blinding, and Apollo felt a tug—a pull on his very essence, as if something was drawing him closer to Lyra. He could feel her presence, could sense the struggle within her as her mortal form battled against the divine power infusing her.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the light faded, leaving the room bathed in a soft, otherworldly glow.

Lyra's body, now fully transformed, lay still on the bed.

She still looked like herself, yet so different.

She grew taller, her body becoming more defined, more regal. Her form became more imposing, more powerful, yet still retained the grace and beauty that had always been a part of her. The delicate curves of her human body gave way to the statuesque, awe-inspiring figure of a goddess.

Her once human features also took on a new, ethereal quality.

Lyra's skin, still retaining the warm, sun-kissed olive tone she had as a human, now had a soft, luminous glow, as though she were always standing in the light of a setting or rising sun.

Her scars were transformed into delicate, intricate patterns. Silver and golden markings in the form of vines and constellations adorned her skin, weaving across her arms, shoulders, and back.

Her hair, which had once been a deep brown, deepened into a vibrant auburn, rich and full of life.

Upon closer inspection, Apollo noticed that depending on the light, it showed hints of copper and bronze too. The ends of her hair also changed, shifting through shades of gold and silver.

Her eyes' colour was yet to be revealed, as they were still closed, but he was almost sure they were changed too.

The room was also charged with a new energy, a feeling of anticipation, of something extraordinary about to happen. Apollo held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited.

And then, slowly, her eyes fluttered open.

The room fell silent, the tension so thick it was almost palpable.

Lyra blinked, her gaze unfocused at first, but gradually sharpening as she took in her surroundings. Her breathing was steady, her movements slow and deliberate as she raised a hand to her forehead, as if trying to make sense of the world around her.

"Lyra?" Apollo's voice was barely a whisper, his eyes wide with a mix of hope and fear.

The new goddess looked around the room. There was a clarity in her eyes, a sense of understanding that had not been there before. She was still Lyra, but she was also something more—something divine.

Finally, her gaze settled on Apollo, who was staring at her with a mixture of relief and overwhelming emotion. And once again, his breath was taken away.

Her eyes, which had once been a singular colour of soft muddy brown, now became multi-faceted, like a gemstone catching the light. They shifted between shades of blue, green, and gold, before they settled into a striking blend of vivid emerald with flecks of gold.

"Apollo?" her voice was weak, barely more than a whisper, but it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

"I'm here," he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

Relief washed over him like a tidal wave, and he felt his knees weaken as the weight of the moment crashed down on him. He moved to her side, kneeling by the bed as he took her hand in his, his heart pounding with a mix of emotions he couldn't begin to untangle.

"You're awake," he breathed.

He could feel the change in her, the divine energy that now flowed through her veins, but it didn't make her any less the person he had come to care for. If anything, it made her more—more powerful, more radiant, more... Lyra.

Lyra sat up slowly, almost unsurely, as though she were testing the boundaries of her new form. Her gaze drifted to the markings on her arms, the silver and gold vines and constellations that adorned her skin where her scars had once been.

"They're beautiful," Apollo said, his voice filled with awe. "Just like you."

Lyra's lips curved into a faint smile, and she squeezed Apollo's hand weakly.

"I... I thought I was dreaming," she murmured. "I thought... I was lost."

"You're not lost," he whispered back.

"What... what happened to me?" she asked, her voice growing steadier despite the confusion in her gaze.

"You've changed, Lyra," the sun god said softly. "You're... a goddess now."

For a moment, Lyra simply stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then, to his surprise, she nodded, accepting the news with a calmness that caught him off guard. There was no panic, no fear, not even anger—just a quiet understanding.

"I see," she murmured, quietly, looking down at her hands. "I suppose it was inevitable, wasn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Apollo frowned, not fully understanding.

"When the Fates called for me and Heron, they told us we were approaching a crossroads. I didn't understand what they meant at the time, as I didn't want to see it back then, but now... I think I understand."

She paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing.

"When I chose to join the battle, instead of staying behind with Alexander and Callista, I knew I was making a choice. I was ready to face whatever outcome it might bring, whether it was victory, defeat, or... this."

"You knew this would happen?" Apollo felt a pang of sorrow at her words.

"Not exactly," Lyra shook her head. "But I knew that whatever happened, it would change me. I was ready for that. I was ready to fight for what I believed in, to protect those I cared about, no matter the cost."

Her words hung in the air, as the silence enveloped them for a moment. Then, she broke it once again.

"What happens now?" Lyra asked, her voice calm but tinged with curiosity. "What am I... the goddess of?"

"We don't know yet," Apollo shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It's something you'll have to discover for yourself, in time."

"Then I suppose I'll just have to wait and see," she sent him a small, soft smile and squeezed his hand.

He replied with a smile of his own and rose slightly to press a kiss to her head. Apollo felt a profound sense of relief wash over him. She was awake. She was here. And she was going to be okay.

The transformation had been successful, but they all knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges.

But for now, in this moment, they had won a small victory. Lyra was alive, and she was awake. And that was enough.

The morning sun bathed Olympus in golden light. Lyra's heart raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation as she waited to reunite with her friends. Still, she couldn't ignore the nervousness gnawing at her. Would they see her differently now? Would she see them differently?

She was aware of Apollo standing a few paces behind her, giving her space but staying close enough to be there if she needed him. He had stayed with her the whole night, talking and reassuring her.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke through her thoughts. Lyra turned to see her friends—Heron, Alexia, Kofi, Ismene and Evios—enter the courtyard. Her heart swelled at the sight of them, but there was also a hint of apprehension. She hadn't seen them since the battle, since she had ascended.

From what she heard, they've all visited her and knew what was happening. But she still wasn't sure what they would think of it, of her.

Heron was the first to spot her, his steps faltering as his gaze took in her new form. He had always been taller than her, but now, she stood at Kofi's height, or maybe even a little bit taller. Still, she was shorter than most gods.

From what she managed to already find out, the top of her head just reached Apollo's chin. He had already explained that most mortals that reached godhood stayed shorter than gods, who were born as divine deities.

Heron's eyes flickered with uncertainty, but then they softened, the familiar warmth she knew so well returning to them.

"Lyra," he all but whispered, relieved smile spreading across his lips.

The others stopped beside him, their gazes fixed on her.

Kofi's expression was unreadable, his stoic demeanour masking whatever thoughts raced through his mind. Alexia watched her with small smile, eyes moving over her new form. Evios gave her a slow, lazy smile, though there was something deeper in his gaze. Ismene smiled slightly. She wouldn't admit it, but she was glad Lyra was alright too.

For a moment, no one moved, the weight of what had happened hanging between them. Then, Lyra took a tentative step forward, her heart in her throat.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Heron beat her to it, as he rushed forward and embraced her. The difference in height was strange, but the man didn't care. He held onto Lyra as if afraid she might disappear.

"You scared us," Heron whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I thought we lost you."

Lyra returned the embrace, closing her eyes as she revelled in the familiar comfort of her friend's presence.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to... I didn't know this would happen."

After a moment, they finally let go, simply looking at each other with teary eyes. Then, Kofi and Alexia approached them, their eyes locked on Lyra's. They didn't say anything at first, just stood there, their gaze searching her face.

Then, with a nod, the man reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Well," Ismene was the first to break the tension, as she looked the new goddess up and down. "You sure know how to keep people in suspense."

Lyra couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. She gave the woman a small smile, to which she received a plain look, but there was a flicker of amusement and relief in Ismene's eyes.

"You're still the same Lyra we know," Kofi was the second to speak. "Doesn't matter if you're a goddess or not."

"We're glad you're okay now," Alexia added with a smile.

"I have to say, the new look suits you," Evios also finally stepped forward, his smile widening.

She smiled and from there, the conversation flown with ease.

After a moment, she turned her attention to Apollo, who had been quietly observing the reunion from a short distance, standing and talking with his siblings. He met her gaze, a small smile on his lips.

He was giving her space, allowing her to navigate this new reality at her own pace, but she could see the concern in his eyes, the protective instinct that had driven him to save her.

Lyra's eyes flickered toward the entrance of the courtyard, where two familiar figures stood hesitantly.

Alexander and Callista looked hesitant, unsure whether they should approach. Lyra's heart clenched at the sight of them, her younger siblings who had always looked up to her. She knew this change would be hardest for them to accept.

"Excuse me for a moment," she said to her friends, who nodded in understanding.

The new goddess turned towards her siblings and slowly walked over to them, as if she was afraid they would run off if she made any faster movement.

"Lyra?" Callista's voice was small, almost trembling, as she stepped closer.

Lyra's expression softened as she knelt down to their level. Despite her transformation, she wanted to make it clear that she was still their sister, the one who had always been there for them.

"Calli, Alex," she said gently, reaching out to them. "Please, don't be scared. It's still me. I'm still your sister."

The twins hesitated for a moment, then moved into her embrace, their small arms wrapping around her tightly.

"But... you're different now," Alexander whispered, his voice filled with worry.

Lyra held them close, pressing a kiss to the tops of their heads.

"Yes, things have changed. But I'm still me."

"But you're a goddess now. Does that mean... you'll have to leave us?" Callista looked up at her with wide eyes.

The new goddess' heart ached at the fear in her sister's voice. She reached out, gently taking both of their hands in hers.

"I'm not going anywhere," she assured them. "Things will be different, yes, but I promise I'll still be here for you. I'll do my best to keep things as normal as possible."

"You promise?" Alexander looked up at her, his expression serious beyond his years.

"I promise," Lyra said firmly. "No matter what happens, you two are the most important people in my life. That won't change."

The twins seemed to relax at her words, their fears slowly dissipating as they clung to her.

Apollo watched from a distance, his heart warmed by the sight. He had worried about how the twins would react to Lyra's transformation, but seeing the way they clung to her, he knew that everything would be okay.

As the new goddess continued to comfort her siblings, Apollo felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Hermes standing beside him, a knowing look in his eyes.

"She's doing well," the messenger god said quietly, his gaze on Lyra.

Apollo nodded, a sense of peace settling over him.

"She is. Better than I expected."

And as the morning began to turn into an afternoon, Lyra found herself standing beside Apollo, the others gradually dispersing to give them some privacy. Even Alexander and Callista disappeared, leaving with Athena as the goddess promised to teach them something new.

She looked up at him, her new eyes reflecting the light of the stars above.

"Thank you," she said softly, her voice carrying a depth of gratitude that touched him deeply.

"For what?" Apollo asked, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.

"For everything," Lyra replied. "For saving me, for believing in me, for being here... I wouldn't have made it through this without you."

Apollo felt a warmth spread through his chest, and he reached out to gently cup her cheek.

"You're stronger than you know, Lyra. You've always had that strength. All I did was help you see it."

Lyra leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment as she absorbed his words.

"You always say that," she murmured, a soft smile playing on her lips as she opened her eyes again. "That I'm strong, that I have this inner strength. But I never really believed it until now."

Apollo's thumb traced gentle circles on her cheek, his touch as soothing as a warm breeze.

"You've faced so much, Lyra. More than anyone should have to. And through it all, you've remained true to who you are. That's not just strength—that's resilience. That's hope."

"You make it sound so poetic," her smile widened, a small laugh escaping her.

"What can I say?" he chuckled, a sound that made her heart flutter. "I am the god of poetry, after all."

Lyra's smile lingered, and she looked up at Apollo, feeling a wave of emotions that she hadn't fully processed yet. Everything had changed so quickly, and yet, standing here with him, it felt like this was where she was meant to be all along.

"You've shown me so much, Apollo. You've given me hope when I had none. And now... I don't know how to thank you."

"You don't have to," he replied, his voice filled with quiet intensity.

He hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words, and then he smiled, a tender and genuine smile that made Lyra's heart skip a beat.

"I think... maybe it's my turn to thank you," the god admitted.

"For what?" Lyra tilted her head, a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

"For giving me something I never expected to find," Apollo said, his hand still resting gently on her cheek. "For showing me that even a god can find someone who changes everything."

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"I love you, Lyra. I've loved you from the moment I saw the strength in your heart. And now, seeing you like this, I can't help it, but love you even more."

The words hung in the air between them, and for a heartbeat, Lyra couldn't breathe. She had never expected to hear those words, not from him, not like this. But they felt right, like a missing piece of her life had just fallen into place.

She reached up, placing her hand over his, and smiled—a smile that held all the love, gratitude, and warmth she felt for him.

"I love you too, Apollo. I think... I have for a long time, from the moment we met. I just didn't know it until now."

Apollo's eyes lit up, and without another word, he closed the distance between them, pulling her into a gentle, heartfelt kiss. Lyra felt herself melt into him, her worries and fears fading away as she allowed herself to just be in the moment with him.

When they finally parted, Lyra rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed as she basked in the warmth of his embrace.

"I could stay like this forever," she whispered, her voice full of contentment.

"So could I," Apollo murmured, his arms wrapping around her, holding her close. "And maybe we will."

Lyra woke with a start as she bolted upright, her heart pounding in her chest. Her breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, and it took her a moment to realize that she wasn't surrounded by darkness and demons, but instead by the soft glow of the moon filtering through an open window. She was safe.

The nightmare clung to her, vivid and horrifying—the sensation of swords and daggers slicing through her skin, the overwhelming dread as she was swarmed by enemies, and the searing pain of wounds she could feel even now.

She shuddered, her body trembling as she tried to shake off the lingering fear.

Turning her head, she found Apollo lying next to her. When he offered for her to stay with him, there had been no pressure, no expectations. Just a quiet understanding that she wasn't ready for anything more than his company, and that was enough for him.

He always seemed to know what she needed before she did.

Lyra had agreed, feeling a sense of relief wash over her as she accepted his offer. The idea of being alone, surrounded by her own thoughts, had been too much to bear. She loved her siblings dearly, but there were some things she couldn't talk about with five-year-olds.

She shifted slightly, careful not to wake him. But even in sleep, Apollo seemed attuned to her, and his eyes slowly fluttered open. He blinked a few times, disoriented for a moment, before his gaze settled on her. A soft, sleepy smile curved his lips.

"Lyra," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep but filled with warmth.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaky. "I didn't mean to wake you."

He shook his head, reaching out to gently brush a strand of her hair away from her face. His touch was tender, and she found herself leaning into it, seeking the comfort he so effortlessly provided. His touch was warm and comforting, grounding her in the present.

"You don't need to apologize," the god replied, his thumb tracing a soothing pattern along her cheek. "Are you okay?"

Lyra hesitated, not wanting to burden him with the weight of her nightmare. But the concern in his eyes made it clear that he wanted to know—needed to know.

"I... I had a nightmare," she admitted softly, then exhaled shakily, trying to steady herself. "It felt so real. I was back there, surrounded by those creatures... I could feel every cut, every wound."

His expression softened further, and without a word, he shifted closer, wrapping an arm around her, pulling her close. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat worked well to calm her racing thoughts.

"You're safe now," Apollo whispered, his breath warm against her hair. "You're here with me, and I won't let anything happen to you."

Lyra leaned into him, allowing herself to be held, to take comfort in his embrace. Apollo simply put his chin on top of her head and continued to rub her back comfortingly.

She closed her eyes and focused on the sound of his breathing, his heartbeat, the way his hand gently rubbed circles on her back. Slowly, the tension began to ebb away, replaced by a sense of safety she hadn't felt since the battle.

"I'm sorry," she murmured after a while, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Apollo's hand stilled for a moment before he cupped her cheek, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Lyra. After everything you've been through, it's only natural to have nightmares."

She looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and warmth in them. There was no judgment, no impatience—only understanding and care. His thumb brushed against her cheek, a tender gesture that sent warmth coursing through her.

The goddess smiled softly, closing her eyes again and soaking up the comfort he offered.

Apollo's eyes softened as he looked at her. Without another word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. She opened her eyes again and looked up at him. He looked back for a second, before leaning in again and kissing her lips this time.

The kiss was so sweet and tender, it banished the lingering shadows of her nightmare. When they finally pulled apart, Lyra rested her forehead against his, feeling a deep sense of contentment settle over her.

"You don't have to face anything alone," Apollo murmured, his fingers gently tracing the new patterns on her skin, the symbols of her transformation. "We'll face whatever comes next together."

Lyra nodded, a small smile playing on her lips as she allowed herself to relax fully in his arms. She leaned her head on Apollo's shoulder, closing her eyes as the soft glow of the moon lit up the dark room.

The nightmare was fading, replaced by the comforting reality of Apollo's presence. And for now, that was more than enough.

Chapter Text

No matter how hard she tried, Lyra couldn't fall back asleep. She tried for what felt like hours, wrapped in Apollo's arms as he held her gently, but the fear that gripped her each time she closed her eyes was still too strong to let her rest.

Resigned, she sighed and she gently untangled herself from her lover's embrace and quietly walked towards the curtain, that served as the doors to the room.

Pulling it back, she sent Apollo a glance, before walking into the corridor. The night was dark and quiet, save for the moonshine filtering through the small windows and rustle of leaves from the outside.

Walking around, she found herself at the corridor, where her room was.

For a moment, she debated whether she should go in there, but decided against it. It would most likely be empty, as the twins hated sleeping on their own and probably went to Heron, after she told them she would be staying with Apollo for the night.

She debated checking her friends' rooms, to see if anyone was awake, but she also turned this idea down. In the evening, after dinner, she saw Evios and Kofi leaving with nymphs, so she wasn't sure what she would see.

Instead, she walked towards the balcony, at the end of the corridor. From there, she had the perfect view on the night's sky, and the grounds surrounding the mountain. The very same grounds the battle was on.

She shuddered, before pushing those thought away.

She knew this was really early, but she also believed she should get used to the idea of how much her life changed, just in the matter of days.

She almost died and came back a goddess. She was now immortal, ageless and most importantly – not as powerless as she was as a human.

Most would say she was never weak, and on that, she would agree. She would most definitely not call herself weak, but it wasn't until she became a goddess, that she understood how little she really could do, compared to her friend.

Alexia was the Grand Archon of the Amazons, trained by Chiron himself. She was a leader, someone others looked up to, respected, and followed without question. She was brutally skilled with sword and in combat in general. Alexia was everything Lyra wished she could be—strong, skilled, and confident.

Kofi was massive and had brutal strength, and yet, he was so very kind and gentle. He was honourable and so far, kept all of the promises he made to both her and her siblings. And while he admitted to his not-so-proud past, he was working to redeem himself for it. Not to mention he was three-time champion of the Pankration Games, for gods' sake.

And then there was Heron. From the moment they met, she had sensed something special about him. And it was not because he was the son of Zeus, as they came to find out much later in their lives. He was stronger than her in every way—not just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well. Life had thrown so much at him, and yet he had remained compassionate, protective, and loyal to those he loved. Sure, he wasn't perfect, but in Lyra's eyes, his goodness far outweighed his flaws.

Evios, too, had a certain confidence and skill that she envied. His life as a thief had honed his abilities to perfection, which he executed with a grace and ease that Lyra could only dream of. He was resourceful, clever, and seemed to know what to do in most situations.

And then there was Ismene. Though not as openly commanding as Alexia, the woman had a silent strength about her, a fierce determination that seemed to radiate in every calculated movement she made. She had an edge, a raw, unapologetic ferocity that was impossible to ignore, something that Lyra definitely lacked.

All of them had some titles, or at least made a name for themselves. They mattered.

Then, there was her. A girl who for most of her life, had been seen as nothing more than a tool by the very people who were supposed to love her, valued only for what she could bring to the table—whether it was money, food, or some other form of utility.

Compliments felt hollow to her, because she didn't believe them. Praise made her uncomfortable, because she didn't feel worthy of it. She had survived, yes. She had fought, she had endured, and she had made it through things that might have broken others. But in her mind, that wasn't enough.

She didn't have the natural leadership of Alexia, the raw strength of Kofi, the godly power of Heron, or the cunning skills of Evios. She didn't even have the steely willpower of Ismene.

She was just... Lyra. A girl who had been hurt so many times that she no longer knew how to see herself as anything other than the weak, insignificant person her parents had always told her she was.

Over time, she got great at hiding it. Most people never even suspected a thing. She strongly doubted her friends knew how she felt, even Heron.

Even now, as a goddess, those doubts lingered. The power she now held didn't erase the years of pain and self-doubt. It didn't make her feel any more capable or worthy. In fact, it only made her more aware of how far she still had to go, how much she still had to prove—to herself, more than anyone else.

She heard footsteps behind her but didn't turn around. She already knew who it was. Apollo's presence was like a warm glow, comforting and steady, and she felt it before he even reached her. As soon as he did, arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her into a warm chest of the god behind her.

"I woke up and you weren't there," Apollo's voice was still sleepy, muffled against her neck as he buried his face in her shoulder.

Lyra gave him a small smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. She reached one hand towards his head, while the other reached for his hand.

"I couldn't sleep," she replied, her voice calm, but distant.

She didn't want to burden him with her thoughts, not when he had done so much for her already.

"I just needed some air," she said instead.

Apollo straightened and studied her for a moment, his eyes searching her face as if trying to read the thoughts she was keeping hidden. He didn't press her, though, which she was thankful for.

Instead, he turned his gaze to the horizon, taking in the same view she had been staring at.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he said, his voice gentle, as though he was speaking to the night itself.

Lyra nodded, her eyes drifting back to the stars.

"It is," she agreed quietly.

For a few moments, they stood in silence, side by side, simply enjoying each other's presence.

"You know," the god began after a pause, his voice low and filled with warmth, "You don't have to carry everything by yourself, Lyra. I'm here. And I always will be, as long as you need me."

"I know," his lover whispered, though a part of her still couldn't quite believe it.

She didn't want to burden him with her insecurities, but his presence was comforting all the same.

Before she could say more, a sudden crack of thunder shattered the stillness of the night. The sound was sharp, almost angry, and both Lyra and Apollo instinctively looked up toward the darkening sky.

The clouds were gathering quickly, their edges illuminated by flashes of lightning.

"Heron," Lyra murmured, instantly recognizing the source of the storm.

She could feel the tension in the air, a reflection of the turmoil Heron must have been feeling. Apollo nodded, his expression sombre.

They stood there for a moment, watching the storm build, the winds picking up as the thunder rumbled once more. But neither of them made a move to intervene.

"Let him be," Apollo said finally, his voice a gentle command, as he turned his gaze back to Lyra. "He has a lot to deal with right now. I believe this might help him unload at least a tiny bit of his emotional turmoil."

Lyra nodded, agreeing with his words and let herself lean back into him, resting her head against his chest as they stood together on the balcony.

"Let's go back inside," the god suggested after a moment, his voice soft in her ear. "You need rest."

The goddess hesitated, then nodded, allowing him to lead her back toward his room. The warmth of his arm around her felt like a protective barrier against the lingering doubts in her mind.

When they reached Apollo's room, the familiar surroundings brought a sense of peace. Apollo guided her toward the bed, and Lyra slipped under the covers, feeling the comfort of the soft sheets against her skin. Apollo joined her only seconds later.

He didn't let go of her hand, even as they lay there in the quiet. Instead, he pulled her closer.

"I love you," Apollo whispered, the words slipping out effortlessly, as if they had been waiting to be spoken.

Lyra's heart skipped a beat at his confession, and she turned to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise. But as she saw the sincerity in his gaze, her own feelings bubbled to the surface, and she knew there was no need to hold them back any longer.

"I love you too, Apollo," she replied, her voice soft but sure.

She still felt giddy on the inside as she said those words.

Apollo's smile was bright, a reflection of the warmth she felt in her chest. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, a tender gesture that made her heart swell with emotion.

She closed her eyes as she allowed herself to be enveloped by his warmth once again. But this time, she felt calmer and more at ease, than before her walk. And as the storm outside began to subside, the two of them drifted off to sleep, their hands still entwined.

A few hours later, Lyra stood on the balcony, her newly heightened senses picking up on the faintest vibrations in the ground. The sensation was odd, unsettling even, as if the earth itself was trembling with anticipation.

Beside her, Alexander and Callista clutched each other's hands, their eyes wide with confusion and fear.

"What's happening?" the girl whispered, her voice trembling as she glanced up at her sister.

The faint rumbling grew louder, the sound of footsteps—no, hooves, wings, and the scrape of claws—reaching their ears. Lyra narrowed her eyes, her gaze sweeping across the horizon.

Her tightened her grip on Callista's hand, her other hand gently resting on Alexander's shoulder as they all stared at the massive gathering of mythical creatures below. The sight was overwhelming.

She could see them now, a mass of figures moving toward Olympus. There were all sorts of creatures, some of which she knew from myths, some she already saw during her time on Olympus, but there were also those, she didn't recognize. Creatures forgotten by history, existing by their own rights and rules.

Alexander stepped closer to the edge, his hand shielding his eyes from the harsh sun.

"Lyra, what are those? What's going on?"

Before Lyra could respond, the door behind them opened, and Apollo stepped out onto the balcony. His golden eyes were serious as he joined them, his gaze following Lyra's to the approaching figures.

"And so they finally arrive," he muttered.

"What's going on?" the boy repeated, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Why are they here? Are we safe?"

Apollo's expression softened slightly as he glanced down at the twins.

"You're safe, Alexander. Nothing will harm you or Callista. The creatures you see below are bound by ancient laws. They're not here to cause harm. Olympus is still a sanctuary, and you're under our protection."

"Then why are they here?" the girl asked.

"They've come because they've heard of Zeus' death. The creatures of myth, those who were bound to him in some way, are drawn to Olympus to pay their respects—or perhaps to seek answers."

"But why does it feel like the ground is shaking?" Callista's grip on Lyra's hand tightened, her face pale.

"Because they're not just coming in small numbers," the god explained. "Every creature tied to the ancient myths is coming. The ground is shaking because they are many—more than you can imagine."

Lyra's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the approaching horde. She could now make out individual figures—centaurs, harpies, minotaur... she could even see giants walking in the crowd.

It took her a second to remember how two giants agreed to ally themselves with Zeus and helped him during the first war.

"They're all coming here," Lyra murmured, clearly overwhelmed.

Apollo nodded, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"They're coming to witness the end of an era. Zeus was the King of the Gods, and his death has shaken the very foundations of the world. Even these creatures, bound to the myths and stories of old, feel the weight of his loss."

As the first of the creatures began to approach the foot of Olympus, the rumbling grew more intense, the noise almost deafening. Lyra's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing, trying to keep up with everything that what was happening.

She was still getting used to how her senses changed and became much more sensitive to everything. How everything seemed so much more intense. Apollo already explained that with time, she'd get used to that, but as of now, it didn't help with the overwhelming sensation at all.

Before she could speak, the door behind them opened again, and Heron and Hephaestus stepped out onto the balcony.

"Half of them have come to say their goodbyes," the god of fire said, once they stopped beside the rest. "While the other half are here to confirm the thunderous demise. And the rise of a new goddess."

Lyra tensed at the mention of her transformation, but Apollo gently squeezed her shoulder, keeping her grounded.

"Father was complicated, which is a kind way of saying flawed," Apollo said, for now ignoring the second part of his brother's statement. "But no one dared challenge him."

"Except for Hera," Hephaestus muttered.

"Is he really gone?" Heron asked, looking down at the still-gathering crowd.

"Gone from here. After tomorrow's ceremony, he'll journey to the Underworld."

"But aren't gods supposed to be immortal?" Callista frowned. "The stories never said anything about gods dying. I thought you can't do that?"

"We don't die the way mortals do. But we are judged, nonetheless," Hephaestus explained. "And we can take comfort in the fact that he died well."

"But we can fade into the abyss of the Underworld if we're forgotten," Apollo added. "So we must tell tales of our father's deeds. Remind others to make offerings in his name. I promise you, my followers will build many temples in his honour. I won't allow our father to slip away."

Lyra glanced at Apollo, seeing the determination in his eyes. She felt a strange mix of emotions—grief for the man who had shaped the world they lived in, fear for what his death might mean, and a deep, unfamiliar connection to the divine power that now coursed through her veins.

"While we safeguard his legacy on Earth, we must protect it here as well," the god of fire continued. "The League of Olympus united all of the divinities of Hellas."

They looked behind them at the gods gathered there. They stood in small groups, talking with each other. Lyra exchanged a small smile with Artemis when their eyes met, before the goddess of the hunt turned back to her conversation with Athena.

"There are no never-ending alliances," Apollo muttered, as they all turned their gazes towards Poseidon, standing above everyone else watching the crowd below carefully. "Only the fear of our father and uncles kept the others at bay."

Then, he glanced around and frowned.

"Where is the Lord of the Underworld?"

Lyra sat in the garden with Apollo, surrounded by the fragrance of blooming flowers and the soft hum of nature. The sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled light across the marble bench where they sat.

Apollo played his lyre, the gentle melody weaving through the air. Lyra closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her, feeling a at peace.

But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed movement—a small, dark shape creeping toward her. She turned her head and saw it – a spider made its way toward her foot. Lyra's heart sank, recognizing the familiar summons.

The Fates were calling.

For a brief moment, she considered ignoring it, staying here in the comfort of the garden with Apollo. But she knew better. If the Fates wished to see her, they would get their way, whether she wanted to go or not.

Sighing softly, she rose from the bench. Apollo's fingers stilled on the strings, the music fading as he looked up at her with concern.

"They're calling me," she said quietly, nodding toward the spider.

His eyes immediately found the spider, and his expression hardened.

"The Fates," he murmured, his voice tinged with unease. "Want me to walk you to their temple?"

Lyra hesitated, knowing how protective Apollo had become since her transformation, but then nodded.

"Thank you," she murmured. "I'd like that."

Without another word, Apollo stood up and stepped forward, offering his hand. She took it and together, they left the garden, the spider disappearing, taken away by the wind in the form of colourful threads.

Apollo kept close to his side, as he often did nowadays. It was almost as if didn't want her leaving it at all, but she knew it wasn't the reason.

She asked about it once and he answered her honestly - there were still moments when he didn't believe it was real, that all of this was a dream and he would wake up in a reality where she died. He had to reassure himself in these moments and the only thing that seemed to work was having her close.

She didn't mind. She found it quite nice.

When they reached the temple, Lyra paused at the entrance. She turned to Apollo, who gave her a small, reassuring smile.

"I'll be waiting right here," he told her softly.

Lyra nodded, before taking a deep breath. She pushed the doors open and stepped inside, leaving Apollo behind.

She didn't have to wait long before she saw them, standing in their darker forms in the small circle, surrounding her thread.

"Ah, she comes," one of them said, her voice a low murmur that seemed to resonate through the chamber. "At least one of them answers our call."

Lyra frowned, confusion tugging at her thoughts.

"One of them?" she repeated, unsure what they meant.

But the Fates offered no further explanation, their faces impassive. She decided not to press the issue.

"Never mind that. Did you know?" she asked instead, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. "Did you know I would be transformed?"

The Fates exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable.

"We saw many paths before you, child," Clotho spoke first. "A thousand threads spun, each one leading to a different destiny."

"The threads weave and twist, converging and diverging," Lachesis picked up where her sister left off. "We do not dictate the path, only measure it."

"And yet, the scissors waited," Atropos finished, "The choice was yours, but the possibility... lingered."

"So you didn't know for certain?" Lyra frowned, trying to make sense of their words.

Clotho's lips curved into a small, knowing smile.

"We knew what could be, but the path was yours to choose. You walked it, and so here you stand."

Lyra nodded slowly, accepting their answer, though it left her with more questions than answers. She shifted on her feet, gathering her courage before speaking again.

"And what am I the patron of?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with curiosity. "Can you tell me that?"

The Fates were silent for a moment, as if considering her question. Then, Lachesis spoke, her tone almost gentle.

"That is something you must discover on your own."

Lyra felt a sense of both frustration and determination building within her, but pushed it down. She knew that the Fates always had their own motives and there was a reason for their every intervention, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed in how they couldn't give her straight answer.

Instead, she bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment. The Fates returned the gesture by inclining their heads in unison, their dark eyes never leaving her.

"The threads continue to weave, Lyra. Do not lose your way."

With that, they turned away, their forms slowly dissolving into the shadows of the temple. Lyra stood there for a moment longer, the weight of their words settling over her.

Taking a deep breath, she turned and walked back to the entrance, where Apollo waited for her. When she stepped outside, the sunlight momentarily blinded her, and she blinked, adjusting to the brightness.

Apollo was there, just as he promised, his eyes filled with concern and unspoken questions. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"Are you alright?"

"I am," Lyra nodded, giving him a small smile. "But I have a lot to think about."

The next day, Lyra wandered through the empty halls of Olympus, her thoughts heavy with the weight of her new reality.

She had spent the morning in discussions with various gods, each one offering advice and guidance, yet none of it seemed to ease the unease that settled in her chest. She was a goddess now, but that title felt foreign, like a cloak too large for her shoulders.

As she turned a corner, the sound of stone cracking and crumbling reached her ears. She quickened her pace, following the noise until she reached Heron's room. She hesitated only for a moment, before walking inside.

There, sitting amidst the rubble of a broken stone railing, was Heron. He sat with his head in his hands, the remains of the shattered railing scattered around him. His shoulders were tense, his whole body radiating a sense of barely contained frustration and despair.

"Heron?" Lyra called softly, stepping onto the balcony.

Her voice broke the silence, and he glanced up at her, his expression a mix of anger and sorrow. She could see the storm brewing in his eyes, the emotions he was trying so hard to keep at bay.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice gentle as she approached him. "Talk to me."

"You don't need to worry about me, Lyra," Heron shook his head, turning away from her. "You've got enough on your plate."

Lyra frowned, moving closer until she was standing right beside him.

"I can handle a lot, Heron. But I don't want to handle it alone. You're my friend, my family. If something's wrong, I want to know. I want to help."

He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. For a moment, she thought he might shut her out, that he would retreat into the silence he often sought when things got too overwhelming.

But then something in her words seemed to break through, and his shoulders slumped as if the weight he was carrying had finally become too much.

"I don't even know where to start," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

Lyra sat down beside him, the cool stone of the balcony pressing against her legs.

"Start wherever you need to," she said softly. "I'm here."

Heron took a shaky breath, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

"Everything's changed so suddenly. Everything I thought I knew... it's gone. My life, my family, even the world I understood—it's all changed. I was thrown into this world of gods and monsters, and I don't know how to keep up with everything going on. I don't know how to control the power I've been given, and I'm terrified of what might happen if I lose control. All I know about it, is that I inherited it from Zeus, and even he can't guide me now, because he-"

He cut himself off with a harsh exhale, as if it pained him to say it out loud. Subconsciously, his hand came up to where the new scar was still forming and rubbed it.

"I feel like I'm drowning, and every time I think I'm starting to understand, something else gets thrown at me. And now..."

He hesitated, his jaw clenching as he tried to force the words out.

"Now what?" Lyra asked gently, sensing there was something more.

Heron finally turned to face her, and the anguish in his eyes made her heart ache.

"The Fates... they came to me last night and told me that my thread had been cut during the attack on Olympus. I'm going to die, and there's nothing we can do to stop this, Lyra."

Lyra's breath caught in her throat. She wanted to say something, to offer words that would make it better, but nothing came to mind. How could she possibly make sense of something so devastating, so inexplicable?

Instead, she reached out and placed a hand on his arm, offering the only comfort she could.

"Why does it keep happening to me?" Heron asked, his voice trembling. "Why can't I just live my life like I always imagined, without all this mess? Why do I have this power that I can't control, that I never asked for?"

"I don't have the answers," Lyra admitted, her voice soft and steady. "I wish I did, Heron, but I don't. But I want you to know that you're not alone in this, and you don't have to carry it by yourself. I'm here, and I'll be here for as long as you need me."

Heron's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and for a moment, he looked so lost, so vulnerable, that Lyra's heart ached for him.

He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. She could see the gratitude in his gaze, the silent acknowledgment that her presence meant more than any words could.

They sat there together, the broken railing at their feet, the weight of the world heavy on their shoulders. But in that moment, they found a small measure of solace in each other's company. The storm inside Heron hadn't passed, but with Lyra by his side, it felt just a little less overwhelming.

"Are you alright?"

They didn't even have to turn around to know that Ismene, Alexia, Kofi and Evios stood there. The four always seemed to appear when they were needed most.

Instead of answering, Heron stood up and walked past them, barely sparing any of them a look. He walked over to the bowl with water and gently washed his hands, that got cut when he broke the railing.

The rest watched him with concerned frowns.

"What is going on?" Ismene repeated, looking between Lyra and Heron.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," the man said curtly, before drying his hands and moving towards the exit. "I'm going to pay my respects, and then, I'm leaving, once and for all."

"Do you want us to come with you?"

Heron stopped, but didn't turn around. He only gave a small nod, before walking out. they watched after him for a second.

"Are we even welcome?" Kofi broke the silence, that fell over them.

Evios answered with a shrug, then looked towards Lyra.

"He's got a lot on his mind, but who wouldn't with everything that happened," the goddess sighed and moved towards the exit too. "And I'm sure you're welcome. He never liked to be on his own for too long."

Chapter Text

The area before the arena's entrance was more crowded than Lyra had ever seen before. Many gods gathered there, drinking and talking, paying their respects to the fallen.

There was a golden statue right in the middle of the gathering – Zeus' golden statue, the same one that usually stood before his palace, on top of the mountain.

Beside Lyra, Alexander and Callista walked in silence. They had insisted on coming, wanting to say their goodbyes to Zeus in their own way, even if they wouldn't participate in the games.

Lyra herself had no intention of joining the festivities, not when everything about her new godly form still felt so unfamiliar. She still had to learn her limits and powers. Until then, she had no intention of joining any fights.

However, this was also a reason why she felt torn.

On one hand, she wanted to follow Heron when he leaves, knowing he would go searching for Electra's grave first. Lyra also wanted to say her goodbyes to the woman and possibly check if there was anything left of their polis.

On the other hand, she still had no idea what her role now was. She had no idea what her domain was, or even her powers. Until then, she believed she'd be more of a liability, than help.

But for now, she decided not to focus on that. That was a problem for another day. Today was supposed about celebrating the lives of those, who died during the war.

Heron, Alexia, Evios, and Kofi followed closely behind, each of them quiet in their own thoughts. Ismene, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.

"My people believe life is a great surprise," Kofi spoke up, putting a hand on Heron's shoulder. "I do not see why death shouldn't be an even greater one."

"I've got an idea. Remind us of that when we're dying," Evios quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

His comment immediately soured the mood, which Kofi had tried to lighten. Lyra shot him a scowl, while Heron simply looked down, his shoulders sagging as he walked away from the group toward his father's statue.

"I will pray to Medr and Zat-Badar for him," Kofi said, looking after Heron before glancing at Evios with a pointed look. "And you."

Without another word, they followed after Heron.

There were moments, when Lyra forgot that Kofi wasn't born in Greece and didn't pray to the same gods. Moments like these served as a reminder to how different they were.

"He's really gone," Callista whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

"He is," Lyra nodded, her eyes lingering on the statue. "But this is how the gods say goodbye—by celebrating his life and burying their grief."

"It feels strange... to celebrate after everything that's happened," Alexander glanced around the area, his brow furrowed.

"It does," the goddess agreed, her voice soft. "But this is their way. It's how they honour those who have left this world."

With that, they made their way toward the arena. The first game had already begun—a race.

Gods lined up at the start, their expressions focused and determined. As the signal was given, Hermes suddenly shot past them, a blur of speed as he completed all the laps in an instant.

His opponents were left standing at the start, outrage etched on their faces as they watched Hermes casually cross the finish line. He raised his hand with a small smile and the crowd roared, cheering on him.

Lyra couldn't help but smile at the sight. She turned her head, scanning the crowd until she spotted Apollo. He was dressed in a black, a complete opposite from his usual white clothing, but it wasn't a surprise – all gods were dressed in dark colours. She'd be more surprised if he still wore white.

When he saw her, he waved her over with a warm smile.

With a gentle nudge, Lyra guided Alexander and Callista over to where Apollo stood. As they approached, the sun god greeted them, his golden eyes shining with warmth.

"It's good to see you all," he greeted them warmly, his gaze lingering on Lyra with a mix of affection and relief. "How are you holding up?"

"We're managing," she replied with a small smile. "The games have already started, I see."

"Yes, and Hermes wasted no time showing off. The poor souls he raced against are still fuming," the god chuckled.

Before their conversation could continue, another figure approached—a young man with a radiant smile and an air of familiarity. Lyra recognized him immediately from the myth – Hyacinth, the beautiful man who had once been Apollo's lover.

"Look who decided to join us," the sun god teased, his tone playful. "Recovering from that loss alright, Hyacinth?"

"I wasn't exactly expecting Hermes to take off like that. Honestly, I think he's compensating for something," Hyacinth rolled his eyes, though there was a good-natured smile on his lips.

"Perhaps, but the look of outrage on your face was priceless," Apollo smirked, then turned to Lyra and her siblings. "Allow me to introduce you all to Hyacinth. Hyacinth, this is Lyra, and these are her siblings, Callista and Alexander."

Hyacinth extended his hand with a welcoming smile.

"So you're the famous Lyra I've been hearing so much about. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Lyra took his hand, smiling in return.

"Likewise. I've heard a lot about you as well."

"Are you the Hyacinth from the myth? The one who was with Apollo?" Callista looked up at the minor god.

"The one and only," he confirmed with a grin.

"So… you and Apollo were together?" Alexander asked, his brows furrowing as he glanced between the two gods, then glanced at Lyra.

The confusion was evident on his face. The goddess felt a slight flush of embarrassment but managed to keep her voice calm.

"Alex!" she hissed quietly, but the two gods exchanged a knowing look and shared an amused smile.

"It's all right," Hyacinth chuckled, clearly not offended by the question. "Yes, we were together, but that was a long time ago. Things have changed since then."

The twins exchanged a glance, still unsure.

"But... you're both gods now. Doesn't that mean you're still together?" Callista asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a bit of concern.

Lyra understood their confusion. She, like her siblings, had seen the damage that could be done when relationships were tainted by someone else's involvement. Their own parents were a prime example.

Just weeks before Lyra's birth, their father had cheated on their mother, leading to their separation. Though they eventually back together a few years later, when Lyra was about fourteen, as most people they tried to get into a relationship with turned them down, knowing they had a bastard child.

That experience was one of the reasons she had sought assurance from Apollo before they began their relationship. She needed to know that she was the only one he was interested in, and that she wouldn't become a secret lover.

He confirmed that he believed she was the one for him and she had no reason to doubt him.

She knew her siblings simply didn't want her to be hurt, the way their mother, or any other women being cheated on, was. Yet, she also knew how inappropriate the question might seem, especially given the delicate nature of relationships among the gods.

"No, we're no longer involved with each other," Hyacinth said, pursing his lips slightly. "Things got... complicated, after I became a god. Apollo and I are just friends now. But there's no bad blood between us."

He then glanced at Lyra with a playful twinkle in his eye.

"And from what I've heard, Apollo has other... interests now," he said, then, leaning in slightly, he added with a wink. "Don't worry, you've got Apollo all to yourself."

Lyra couldn't help but laugh softly at that. Her siblings looked between the three of them for a moment longer, as if trying to decide whether they believe them or not.

"Oh, okay," Alexander finally said, nodding as if the explanation made perfect sense now.

"So… what's it like being a god?" Callista asked, her eyes wide with wonder as she looked at Hyacinth, clearly fascinated by the idea.

She had already asked that Apollo and Artemis, when they first met, but she also wanted to hear about it from someone who was born mortal, who was like her before being turned. She tried asking Lyra about that, but her sister told her she's been a goddess for too short to have an opinion yet, but so far, the things were a little messy for her.

Hyacinth grinned, glad to see the conversation taking a more cheerful turn.

"Well, it has its perks, but it's not all sunshine and rainbows. There's a lot to learn, and it takes time to get used to everything."

"Kind of like what Lyra's going through?" Alexander asked, glancing up at his sister.

"Exactly," Hyacinth replied, giving the said goddess a supportive smile. "But from what I hear, she's doing just fine."

Lyra returned the smile, appreciating the reassurance. As the conversation continued, they felt the initial awkwardness fading away as they shared in each other's company.

"So… Were you really in that race just now?" Alexander asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"I was," Hyacinth admitted with a sheepish grin. "Though calling it a race might be generous. As you might have seen, Hermes left us all in the dust before we even took our first steps."

"That's not fair," Callista said, frowning in disapproval. "How can anyone compete with the god of speed?"

"It's not fair at all, but that's part of the fun. We all know Hermes likes to show off when he gets the chance," the god chuckled.

"I think I'd want a rematch," Alexander said, crossing his arms as if contemplating a way to outsmart the god of speed.

"There are no such thing in those Games, but if you ever figure out how to beat him, let me know," Hyacinth replied with a wink. "I could use some tips."

As they continued to chat, the conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and light-hearted banter. It was a brief but welcome break from the weight of the recent events.

But then, the sound of chariot wheels rumbling against the ground drew their attention.

They turned to see Ares arriving in a grand chariot pulled by black, fire-breathing horses. Beside him stood Aphrodite, her beauty as captivating as ever, even in mourning attire.

Lyra watched as the god of war dismounted and, without hesitation, made his way over to where Heron and Athena stood near the entrance of the arena, Aphrodite on his arm.

Apollo's gaze followed his brother, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"This should be interesting," he murmured.

Lyra's eyes narrowed slightly as she observed the interaction. Heron's posture was tense, and from the look on his face, she could tell he was on the verge of doing something rash.

"What's going on over there?" Callista asked, her voice tinged with concern as she noticed the tension in the air.

"Nothing good, by the looks of it," Lyra said quietly, her gaze fixed on Heron.

She knew him well enough to recognize when he was about to act on impulse, and it worried her. She knew he had a problem with that, always acting on impulse, easy to sway while angry.

"Should we do something?" Alexander asked, his tone uncertain.

Lyra hesitated for a moment, considering her options.

"No, not yet," she decided. "Let's give him a moment. Sometimes it's better to let things play out."

"He'll be fine," Apollo said. "Athena's there, with him. She won't let anything get out of hand."

Lyra's heart tugged with concern for Heron, despite the sun god's reassurance. But for now, she chose to stay by Apollo's side, while also keeping a close watch on the unfolding scene.

Lyra knew she was right about Heron making rash decisions and acting on impulse as she watched Ares punch Heron across the face, making the demigod fall to the ground and spit out blood.

Athena immediately stepped closer and stopped the god of war from acting any further, but just as Lyra was about to approach them, Apollo caught her arm and shook his head.

"Don't," a seemingly silent command rang across even more silent arena.

Everyone looked towards the new-arrival. A very pale god stood there, looking first at the two gods, then at Heron. Evios and Alexia helped him to his feet, while he held a hand to his nose only to pull it back stained by blood.

Ismene, who finally joined them, winced. She quickly approached him and wiped the blood away with the sleeve of her tunic, shaking her head. She said something to the demigod, to which he replied with a raised brow. The woman only rolled her eyes, lingered for a moment longer, before turning on her heel and walking away.

"And so the Lod of the Underworld finally arrived," Apollo mused, referencing to their earlier dwellings about his uncle's whereabouts.

Lyra saw Heron say something to Ares, before walking away, his friends following. Meanwhile, the god of war walked over to Hades. They also exchanged a few sentences, which, from Lyra's point of view, looked more like exchanging threats, before separating.

As the tension in the arena slowly eased, Apollo released Lyra's arm from his grip, instead sliding his hand down to hers. He exchanged a glance with her, his golden eyes serious, then softened with a small smile.

"Heron will be fine," he assured her, though his gaze lingered where the demigod had disappeared. "You know better than anyone how he is."

"I do... Which is exactly why I'm worried," she sighed.

"Is it always like this with gods?" Alexander said quietly, looking up at the two gods. "The fighting, I mean."

Apollo chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair gently.

"Not always, but we do have our moments. It's just... how we are. Passions run high when you're dealing with immortals."

He glanced around the arena and noticed how most of the spectators already moved onto the stands, and competitors were getting ready.

"I need to prepare for the Games. Will you be watching?"

"Of course," Lyra managed a small smile. "I'll be cheering you on."

Hyacinth grinned, leaning in slightly.

"You'd better be loud," he said in a stage whisper. "Apollo thrives on attention."

"I do not," the god protested, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

"Sure, sure," the goddess nodded in mock seriousness, before smiling softly. "We'll be watching."

"Good," the sun god's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned to the twins. "Take care of your sister, you two."

"We will," Alexander and Callista chimed in unison, the tension finally easing from their shoulders.

"Are you going to be in the games too?" the girl looked up at Hyacinth.

"Of course! I can't let Apollo have all the glory, now can I?" he grinned, playfully shoved the sun god's shoulder.

Apollo rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"If you can keep up this time, that is."

Lyra smiled at their banter, feeling a bit of the tension in her chest ease slightly.

"We'll be cheering you both on. Just try not to get too competitive, alright?"

"No promises," Hyacinth quipped, casting a wink at Lyra. "But don't worry, I'll make sure to put on a good show."

Apollo gave Lyra's hand a squeeze before letting go, his expression softening as he looked at her.

"Don't worry about Heron. I know it'll be hard, but now he has four other people looking after him," he gave her a small smile. "Enjoy the games, spend some time with Alex and Calli, and try to relax for a bit. We'll catch up afterward."

Lyra nodded, her heart warming at the concern in his voice.

"Good luck," she wished, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

His smile widened, before he and Hyacinth turned to make their way toward the preparation area, exchanging light-hearted jabs as they walked off. Lyra watched them go, her fingers still tingling from Apollo's touch.

Callista tugged on her hand, bringing her back to the present.

"Come on, Lyra. Let's find a good spot to watch!"

Lyra smiled down at her sister, pushing aside her worries for now.

"Alright, let's go. We don't want to miss any of the action."

As they made their way toward the spectator stands, Lyra couldn't help but glance back at the spot where Heron had disappeared. She just hoped that, whatever he did, he didn't do anything stupid. Meanwhile, Callista glanced back at Apollo and Hyacinth.

"They're really close, aren't they?"

Lyra nodded, her gaze moving towards her lover and his friend, as she watched the two gods disappear into the crowd.

For now she'd focus on the games and simply enjoying her time with her siblings.

Lyra couldn't help but sigh, when she saw Heron entering the arena. Her suspicions were correct and he did end up joining the Games. For the next few hours, she had to watch as Heron was beaten by gods, and listen to the other gods in the stands mutter among themselves, pointing out his weaknesses and errors.

That was until she finally had enough and walked back down towards the arena with Callista and Alexander.

What Lyra couldn't help but notice, was that when the discus throwing competition came up, neither Apollo, nor Hyacinth took part in it—Dionysus offered the discus to Apollo, but the sun god simply shook his head and declined, his eyes scanning the crowd until they locked onto hers.

A moment later, he was by her side, wrapping an arm around her without a word and simply watched the next competition from her side.

The twins, meanwhile, had wandered off, their curiosity leading them to where Kofi, Alexia, and Evios stood. Lyra exchanged a quick glance with Alexia, who gave her a silent nod, reassuring her that they'd keep an eye on the twins. Giving a nod back, Lyra turned her full attention back to the arena, where the next competition was already being prepared.

Next was archery. Ares was first and notched a few arrows at once and let them fly. All of them hit bullseye and he smirked proudly, turning around to face the crowd, that went wild.

However, his victory didn't last long, as new arrows came flying towards the target, each of them cutting Ares' arrows in half.

Everything went quiet for a second, before the gods and other mythical creatures started cheering even louder. Heron, who had fired the arrows, didn't bask in the glory. Instead, he sent a cold glare toward his half-brother before moving off to the side.

Before Lyra could even process what she had witnessed, Apollo's voice broke through her thoughts.

"Help me with these?" he asked.

She turned to find him holding out a set of bandages, a playful glint in his eyes. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she looked from the bandages to his face.

"And what exactly am I supposed to help you with?" she asked, a teasing edge to her tone.

He chuckled softly, extending his hand toward her.

"I need to get these wrapped around my hands. The Pygmachia contest is about to start, and I want to try my luck."

Lyra couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm, though the idea of him entering the boxing match made her a little uneasy. Not that she doubted his ability, but the idea of seeing him take hits didn't sit well with her. She never liked seeing those she cared about being in a fight. She's seen that one too many times already.

"You're serious?" she asked, though she was already taking the bandages from him.

"As serious as I've ever been," he replied, his smile widening.

She sighed but began wrapping the bandages around his hands, making sure they were snug but not too tight.

"You know, I'll go back and cheer for you from the stands," she suggested, her fingers working quickly to secure the wraps.

"And miss the chance to see me in action up close?" Apollo teased, leaning in slightly as she finished the last wrap. "I'd never forgive myself if I deprived you of that. I'll make sure you'll have a spot in the front row."

"You're impossible, you know that?" Lyra rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.

"So I've been told," he said with a grin, flexing his fingers to test the bandages. "But it's part of my charm."

With the cloth in place, Apollo gave her a quick, appreciative kiss on the forehead before stepping away, ready to join the other contestants. Lyra couldn't help but watch him with a mix of pride and apprehension, her heart fluttering as he walked toward the arena.

Before he could go too far, Hyacinth appeared at his side, looking every bit as excited as Apollo.

"Don't let Ares knock you out too quickly," he joked, clapping Apollo on the back.

"I should be more worried about you getting knocked out by the wind," Apollo shot back with a smirk, causing Hyacinth to laugh.

The minor god only laughed, playfully shoving the sun god's shoulder.

"Let's see if you can back that up in the ring."

They glanced back at Lyra, Callista and Alexander, who just rejoined their sister and Hyacinth gave them a cheerful wave.

"You two better be cheering for me as well! I need all the support I can get with this one," he said, jerking his thumb towards Apollo.

"Oh, no, you don't," the sun god exclaimed. "They're going to cheer on me, too!"

"You already have Lyra cheering you on, as well as the better half of the gods gathered here!" the minor god protested. "I need someone to cheer on me, too!"

"How about we cheer on both of you?" Alexander offered, not knowing who he wanted to support more.

On one hand, he knew Apollo for longer, but he already liked Hyacinth a lot. The minor god was nice and funny. His twin seemed to have similar dilemma, as she looked between the two gods. Then, after she heard her brother's offer, she nodded, her excitement matching the Hyacinth's.

"We'll do that!" Callista promised.

"Just don't let him show you up too much," Alex added, glancing towards the minor god.

"I'll do my best," Hyacinth replied with a wink, before turning back to Apollo. "Shall we?"

Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and started walking towards the already-gathered crowd.

The sun god glanced at Lyra one last time, his eyes lingering on hers with a mix of affection and determination.

"Wish me luck?"

She pretended to think, before gently shaking her head. Apollo pouted and Lyra barely held back a smile. She waited a moment longer, and just as her lover was about to turn away with a sigh, she broke into a warm, amused smile.

"Good luck," she said softly, stepping closer and giving him a kiss on a cheek. "Not that you'll need it."

The god grinned, kissing her forehead once again, then gave Alexander and Callista a quick hug. After that, he followed after his friend.

The contest began, and the arena erupted with cheers as the first competitors faced off. Lyra and her siblings managed to push through the crowd towards the front, just like Apollo wanted. If he believed having her watch from up close will help him win, who was she to deny him that?

When Apollo's turn came, the crowd's cheers grew louder, and Lyra found herself holding her breath as he squared off against his opponent.

The fight was intense, but the Apollo's confidence never wavered. His opponent, though skilled, struggled to keep up with the sun god's speed and strength.

As the match progressed, Lyra felt a surge of pride, her earlier worries fading as she watched her lover dominate the fight. The final blow came swift and decisive, sending his opponent sprawling to the ground. The crowd roared in approval as Apollo stood victorious, a triumphant smile on his face.

When he reached her, he didn't say anything—he simply pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face in her hair as he caught his breath.

"You were amazing," Lyra whispered against his chest, her arms wrapping around him in return.

"So were you," he murmured back. "Thanks for being here."

They stood like that for a moment, just holding each other as the noise of the arena faded into the background.

But eventually, the call for the next event broke through, and Apollo pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a playful smirk.

"You know, I could use a bit of extra luck for the next round," he teased, his eyes sparkling.

"I think you're doing just fine on your own," Lyra rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips.

"Maybe," he conceded, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "But it doesn't hurt to have you cheering me on."

With that, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips before turning to head back to the arena, leaving Lyra feeling a mix of nerves and excitement for what was to come.

The fights varied in intensity—some were quick and less aggressive, while others were drawn-out and far bloodier. The final bout was the most brutal of them all.

Hyacinth had been knocked out about halfway through the competition, but Apollo fought his way to the finals, where he faced off against Dionysus. The two brother, though they were close in general, they were also very competitive when it came down to this kind of competitions.

So, when the fight started, Lyra watched with batter breath. She watched as the two gods exchanged punches and a few remarks to provoke the opponent. This looked like the bloodiest fight out of this category.

By the end of the fight, both gods were covered in cuts, bruises and were clearly exhausted. Blood and sweat dribbled down their faces as they circled each other.

Finally, Dionysus had enough of the wait and threw himself at his brother. Apollo quickly ducked, then blocked the next punch. After third punch, he finally countered, punching his brother across the face.

The god of wine didn't expect that and had no time to either block or duck. It hit him straight in the already bleeding nose and knocked him onto the ground.

When Dionysus didn't get back up immediately, the fight was declared over. The referee walked over to Apollo, grabbing his wrist and raising his hand in victory. The sun god closed his eyes, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips as the crowd erupted in cheers.

Once the referee released him, Apollo made his way to his brother, who was slowly getting back on his feet. He extended a hand. Dionysus looked at it for a second, as if thinking whether to accept or not, before grabbing it.

They exchanged a few quiet words—probably good-natured ribbing more than anything—before Apollo turned and walked back to Lyra, the twins, and Hyacinth, who had joined them after his earlier loss.

He had a small, victorious smile playing at his lips and despite being clearly exhausted, his golden eyes shined with accomplishment and pride.

"That was... intense," Lyra remarked, her eyes scanning Apollo's battered form with concern.

The sun god, still catching his breath, grinned.

"You know me, always aiming to impress," he shrugged.

The goddess shook her head and brough up a loose piece of her clothing to dab it on his face, wiping away a bit of blood from under his nose.

"Impress? You look like you've been through Tartarus and back," Hyacinth joked, though his tone held a note of genuine concern.

"At least he won," Alexander chimed in with a mischievous glint in his eye, before turning back to Apollo. "That last punch was something else."

"I'd say it's the result of excellent training and a bit of luck," the sun god replied, winking at Lyra.

The goddess smiled and blushed, but couldn't help the relief she felt that the tension of the match was behind them.

Once the Games slowly came to an end, most of the gods left the arena. The official part of the games was over, but the arena remained open for friendly spars or for those who wanted to test their strength against random opponents.

The remaining ones were mostly Zeus' close family or the most competitive ones, that still tried their luck in fights and other categories.

Apollo, now cleaned up from blood and back in his black cape, walked beside Lyra as they followed the twins, who still wanted to see what everyone were up to.

Hyacinth also stuck around, mostly to watch other gods, but also tried out a few disciplines himself. For how, they could see him talking with Aphrodite on the side, both laughing and seemingly teasing each other.

Then, from the corner of her eye, Lyra saw Heron and Ares stepping into the Pygmachia Arena. Her heart sank as she realized what was about to happen.

Heron, his face still marked with the bruise from Ares' earlier punch, looked determined—almost reckless—as he squared off against the god of war. Ares glared down at the smaller mortal, a cruel glint sparkling in his red eyes.

"Heron, no..." Lyra whispered, but her voice was lost in the noise of the crowd.

Still, she heard the next words Ares said to Heron.

"I'm going to make a mockery out of you, bastard. Beg for mercy and I'll end it quickly."

Heron's only response was taking his stand. Ares smirked and copied his half-brother.

"They're going to tear each other apart," Hyacinth muttered, concern flickering in his eyes as he watched the two prepare to clash.

The atmosphere in the arena shifted as Heron and Ares faced each other. The friendly, celebratory mood of the games was replaced by something darker, more dangerous.

Lyra clenched her fists, torn between rushing in to stop them and staying back, knowing Heron's pride wouldn't allow him to back down now. That, and the rules, which had been explained earlier, didn't allow it – once the participants took their stances, almost nothing could stop the fight.

Ares made the first move, acting as if he was going to launch himself at Heron, but the man didn't even flinch. The god grit his teeth as he glared at the seemingly calm Heron.

Before he could try something else, Heron launched himself at him. The god of war easily redirected the punch and blocked the next. Despite his physique, towering over even most gods, Ares was surprisingly agile and fast.

And strong too, as when he landed the first punch, Heron's head snapped to the side and blood instantly started oozing from the fresh cut on his cheek. Before the man even had a chance to recover, another punch hit his square in the face, knocking him down.

"Say the words," Ares demanded, looking down at his half-brother. "'I submit'."

Instead of answering, Heron got back to his feet and tried to attack again, only to receive another punch in the face, knocking him back down.

The twins, standing next to Lyra, exchanged anxious glances. Callista, her usual enthusiasm dampened by the sight before her, tugged on Lyra's arm.

"We have to do something! He's going to kill him!" she whispered urgently.

Lyra's heart ached at the sight of Heron struggling to get back on his feet.

"We can't," she shook her head, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "The rules won't allow it. Besides, Heron wouldn't want us to interfere. He'd see it as an insult to his pride."

"But he's just getting beaten! This isn't a fair match!" Alexander clenched his fists, his gaze never leaving the fight.

Apollo, who had been silently observing, placed a hand on Alexander's shoulder.

"This is Heron's fight. He's chosen to face Ares, knowing the risks. We must respect that choice, even if it's hard to watch."

The words were cold comfort as Ares continued to pummel Heron, each hit more vicious than the last. Blood stained the arena floor, and with each blow, Lyra felt her own desperation growing.

Heron was trying to fight back, but Ares' overwhelming strength was too much. He was knocked down again and again, but each time, he forced himself back up, his stubborn resolve keeping him in the fight even as his body was pushed to its limits.

"Look at them. They know you can't win, yet they're all on the edge of their seats. They want to see me pummel you into submission," Ares said, as Heron panted, barely holding himself on his hands and knees. "That's the mob. They value strength above all, and love to see a hero fall."

What he didn't notice was that halfway through his small speech, Heron's body started to spark. At first, it was only an occasional spark running across his fingers and hands, but with each word the god said, the more often sparks started to run over his body.

Meanwhile, as Lyra watched, something deep within her began to stir. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one she couldn't quite name, but it filled her with a strange mix of warmth and determination. Her eyes never left Heron, and without even realizing it, she began to focus all her thoughts on him, willing him to get back up, to keep fighting.

Unbeknownst to her, a subtle golden aura began to emanate from her, barely visible but potent.

It reached out to Heron, wrapping around him like a protective shield. His breathing steadied, and when he got to his feet this time, there was a renewed strength in his stance, a fire in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

"Say the words!" Ares demanded and Heron opened his eyes.

But instead of his normal soft blue eyes, they were glowing with pure power of lightning. The one Lyra had only see on one person before – Zeus.

Heron's hands sparked just like his eyes did, when he got back up and faced his half-brother again. Ares noticed the change as well, his smirk faltering as Heron launched himself back into the fight with a fury that surprised everyone.

He was faster and seemed to have a lot of new energy as he ducked under the god's swing, before throwing a punch of his own. A shockwave seemed to go through Ares' body as he staggered slightly from the sheer force and power behind the punch, then again and again.

Everyone watched in shock as he landed a blow to Ares' jaw, almost knocking the god off his feet. Blood spilled from the god's nose and mouth. He put a hand to his face and when it came away stained, his eyes widened in shock.

The twins gasped, and Lyra felt a surge of hope. She didn't understand what was happening, but she could feel it—something was different. Heron was different.

For a moment, it seemed like Heron might actually turn the tide of the battle. But Ares, infuriated by the sudden shift, roared with anger. The god's fury unleashed a final, devastating series of blows that sent Heron crashing to the ground with a force that left the arena silent.

"Say the words!" Ares yelled.

Once again, Heron remained silent. He struggled to push himself to his feet, blood dribbling down from the corner of his mouth as he once again took the stance weakly. His breaths came in short, wheezing gasps, but he still glared up at the god.

"Never," he finally answered.

He made a move to attack Ares again, but the god was faster. With one, brutal punch, he sent Heron back to the ground. The tension in the arena was palpable as everyone held their breath, waiting to see if Heron would rise again.

His body was battered and bloodied, one eye swollen shut, blood running down from his nose and mouth, as well as many other cuts on his body.

Lyra's heart pounded in her chest, and the twins struggled against her and Apollo, desperate to reach the man. But the two gods held firm, knowing that intervening now could mean disaster.

Just as the arena seemed to settle into a collective resignation that Heron was done for, a murmur rippled through the crowd. Slowly, painfully, Heron pushed himself up, his movements agonizingly deliberate. His face was a mask of determination.

But before Ares could make his next move, the atmosphere in the arena shifted dramatically. The air grew heavy with an oppressive, almost suffocating presence.

"Stop!" came a voice, followed by cawing of crows.

As soon as the birds reached the ground, a brilliant purple light erupted from it, blinding everyone for a second. Everyone gasped. Lyra felt a shiver run down her spine as a figure, regal and imperious, stepped into the arena.

Hera had arrived.

Chapter Text

Despite missing an arm, Hera's presence still commanded attention, but it also brought with it a wave of hostility. The gathered gods and goddesses who had supported Zeus during the war, tensed visibly, their eyes filled with a mixture of resentment, anger, and fear.

The most visible displease showed on faces of Zeus' bastard children.

"This ends now," Hera declared.

Apollo passed Alexander to Hyacinth, knowing this could escalate quickly. The younger god took the boy without question, his eyes darting nervously between Hera and Apollo. He also knew something was going to happen.

Lyra, still holding onto Callista, watched as Apollo stepped forward, the usually warm, playful light in his eyes was replaced by something much colder, more dangerous.

Hera's gaze swept across the arena, landing first on Ares, who, despite his usual bravado, had taken a step back. Then her eyes fell on Heron, who was still struggling to stay on his feet.

Her expression softened for the briefest of moments—an odd flicker of emotion that was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared.

"The games are meant to honour the dead. Not add to the pile," she declared, looking between the two of her husband's children.

Ismene used this distraction and walked up to Heron. She firmly, but not harshly pulled him up by his shoulder and he looked towards her. Taking one look at him, she shook her head and hooked his arm around her shoulder and led him off the Arena, to the side. Alexia, Kofi and Evios quickly followed them.

"How dare you show your face here," Athena was the first to speak up against their step-mother.

"We ought to strike you down," Apollo quickly followed, as he stepped to his sister's side, his glare levelled at the queen.

Lyra's heart sank as she watched the confrontation unfold. She could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. She glanced at Hyacinth, who was holding Alexander protectively, his eyes glued to the unfolding scene before them.

"Don't worry," the minor god whispered to the boy, though it was unclear whether he was reassuring the boy or himself. "It'll be okay."

"You can try, but it won't ease your pain and diminish your anger," Hera countered.

"Why don't we try and find out for ourselves?" the sun god moved forward, his eyes starting to glow with the power humming just under his skin.

Lyra held her breath, as Ares also stepped forward, ready to defend his mother, but Hera held up a hand, stopping him.

"I am still the Queen of the Heavens, Apollo. By law, I have every right to be here. I know your wounds are still fresh, but my demise won't bring back those who have fallen," the queen's expression fell slightly as she wrapped an arm around her middle. "If it could, I would gladly give my life for theirs. All I can do now is try to make amends for what I've done."

She took a step back and raised her voice, so everyone, even the gods sitting on the stands, could hear her.

"I will banish myself for a thousand years, and during that time, I will not step foot on Olympus," as she declared that, Lyra couldn't help but notice the shock and disbelief written all over Ares' face.

If the situation was any different, she might've felt sorry for him. But as they lived in the world they did, she could only watch and think how this was the first time she saw him display different emotion that anger or distaste.

"But first, I will pay my respects to the fallen," Hera finished.

She went to pass everyone and move towards the stand, where the tributes of the fallen laid, with the remaining half of Zeus' mask lying on a grander platform in the middle, but Apollo caught her arm, stopping her.

"You lost that right when you waged a war on us," he spat.

"Who are you to speak for Olympus?" Ares growled and Hera had to hold him back, before he could lunge at the sun god. "You're just a bastard."

"As are we," Artemis backed her brother up, as she and Athena stepped up behind him.

"I will not let bastards determine out future," the god of war sneered. "My mother has always been just. Only when Zeus strayed would her temper betray her. what fault did she bear in that?"

"She will do as we say," Athena declared firmly

"You misunderstood me, sister. I'm not asking for permission."

"Enough," Hera finally stepped in. "This honours the unworthy. Let's go."

"No," Ares said defiantly, as he glared at his siblings.

"You heard her. Run along," Artemis glared back.

"What did you say?" the god of war growled and his eyes glowed with barely contained fury.

"Go. Now," Apollo sneered, getting in his brother's face. His own eyes began to glow as he channelled his power. "Or you'll regret it."

"Don't," Hera tried to stop them.

But just as she said that, the ground began to rumble, the tension in the air reaching a breaking point. Lyra clutched Callista tighter, her heart racing. Alexander whimpered, and Hyacinth held him closer, whispering words of comfort that did little to mask his own fear.

The ground in the middle of the arena broke. In the matter of seconds, the whole area was shadowed by enormous tree grew out of it. Then, magic swirled around it and the tree turned into green mist, before solidifying once again.

"Enough!" a powerful voice commanded.

Everyone froze and turned to the newly formed goddess, who glared down at them. As Lyra looked at her, only one name came to mind – Gaia. Goddess of the Earth and Mother of Titans. Zeus' grandmother.

"Stop this foolishness," she continued.

Out the corner of her eye, Lyra noticed Heron stand up and walk a couple steps closer to the goddess. She looked down at him, before shifting her gaze to the rest.

"Hera is here under a banner of truce," she announced. "She will be allowed to pay her respects, but then she must stay true to her word and go."

The Queen of Heavens barely nodded as she looked up at her grandmother. Gaia glanced at the rest and her voice softened a bit.

"You must all remember. While death destroys some of us, the idea of it saves us all. We will mourn Zeus and the fallen for three days. During that time, no god will take up arms against the other. But after three days, a challenge will be offered, whose instructions will be forthcoming. All are welcome to vie for the crown, so that the most worthy will be rewarded an Eleusinian Stone. And thus, merit will decide the next ruler of the heavens. This is the will of Zeus and I, and thus, it shall be. Now, honour the dead, and give them their due."

With that, she turned back into the tree and sunk back into the earth. As soon as the last leaf disappeared under the ground, the arena repaired itself and looked as if nothing happened.

That evening, everyone gathered for the final ceremony, the one that ended the Games.

As Apollo explained to the twins when they asked, for the next three days the gods will continue to carry out their chores, but there will be no feasts or parties. After that time, true to Gaia's words, the challenge will begin.

"Let us begin," Poseidon announced.

At first, no one moved. They all just stood there, lined up. Then, Hera walked up first. For a second, she stood still and looked in silence at the half of her husband's mask, before raising her hand and using her powers to cut a small strand of hair out of her braid.

It fell next to the golden mask and she watched as it rested there. Next, Poseidon walked up next to her. He held a small bowl filled with wine and poured it at the ground in front of the pedestal.

After it was done, everyone lined up behind them. Everyone said their goodbyes and poured their libations.

Hermes was last. His offering was abstracting Zeus' soul from the remaining piece of mask and letting him say his final goodbyes to everyone gathered.

When the blue ghost of the king formed, the twins gasped and clutched Lyra's hands tighter. She gave a weak, sad smile at the sight of him. Beside her, she saw Heron do the same.

Then, they saw Hera kneel down, tear running down her cheek.

"There's no need for tears," Zeus spoke up.

The goddess slowly looked up and her husband offered her a small smile. Then, he looked around, before his gaze rested on Hermes, who looked up at his father with wide eyes.

"Steadfast Hermes," he said, and the god gave a small smile, before his father's gaze moved. "Brave Apollo and Hephaestus. Loyal to the end. Thank you, my sons."

They all nodded and Zeus' gaze moved across the crowd again.

"Wise Hestia, valiant Athena, and my cunning Artemis. I knew I could count on you. For that, we are all in your debt."

His gaze moved again.

"Anything worthwhile must be earned, Ares. Don't allow your talents to be squandered."

Then, his gaze settled on the last four he wanted to address at the moment.

"Heron. I'm very proud of you. You've done more than I could have ever imagined," as Zeus said that, Poseidon moved towards the man, a small box in his hands. "You should be the one... to bear my ring."

The god of the sea held out the box and inside was a golden ring. It had a small, blue engravings on top, that resembled lightning. Out the corner of her eye, Lyra saw some of the gods have various reactions – some had small smiles, some were shocked and some angered. But she paid them little mind.

Instead, she focused on the pride she felt for Heron. He earned it. He lost so much and yet, he didn't let that weaken him, only make him stronger. If he didn't deserve that ring, then she didn't know who did.

"I can't accept it," the man said quietly. "It should go to someone who wants to rule."

"This isn't about the throne. It's about accepting who you are. You are my son. You bear my blood. This will help lead you down the path you must go."

With that, Heron blinked quickly, trying to blink away the tears that gathered in his eyes. Wordlessly, he reached out and took the ring, sliding it onto his middle finger. It gave a weak, golden glow, before going back to normal.

Zeus gave him a small smile, before looking at the last three.

"And of course, I cannot forget my resilient Lyra," he said, his voice warm yet tinged with a fatherly pride. "Though we do not share the same blood, know that I have always seen you as one of my own."

Lyra felt a lump form in her throat as she listened, her heart swelling with emotions she struggled to contain.

Zeus hesitated, his eyes searching hers as if trying to find the right words.

"I may not know what your true domain is, what aspect of the cosmos you were destined to govern, but I have no doubt that whatever it is, you will embrace it with the same courage and grace you have shown in every other aspect of your life. I hope you'll find your place in this world, as you have always wished. And when you do, I know you will settle into this life with the same strength and resolve that has always been within you."

Lyra's eyes glistened with tears, and she nodded, unable to speak. The weight of his words settled over her like a warm blanket, comforting yet heavy with responsibility.

Zeus's gaze then shifted to the twins, who were still holding tightly to Lyra's hands, their faces a mixture of awe and sadness as they looked up at the form of the king.

"Callista and Alexander," Zeus addressed them, his tone softening further. "You two have a special bond, one that most could only wish for. Cherish that bond, protect it, for it will guide you through the trials of this world. And know that you both have the potential to do great things."

The twins exchanged a glance, then looked back at Zeus with wide eyes. They had been through much, and to be acknowledged by the King of the Gods himself during his final goodbye was a moment they would never forget.

"You've both shown bravery and wisdom beyond your years. I have no doubt that you will continue to grow into the remarkable people you were meant to be."

When they nodded, he gave them one last smile, before his gaze swept over them all one last time, taking in the faces of those he loved and had fought for, before he finally spoke his last words.

"We are all flawed in our own way. Myself most of all. But there are ideals that are pure. And in the moments we strive for them, so are we. Honour me by ending this conflict and then live not as I lived, but as I died. Striving for something greater than myself."

As he finished, everyone stood there for a second, letting the weight of his words to settle. Then, Poseidon broke the silence.

"It's time."

With that, Hermes stepped towards his father ghost and sending him a long glance, he raised his hand and using his armbrace, reaped his soul, gathering it into his horn. Then, putting on his helmet and hood, he sped away.

As Apollo, Lyra, Hyacinth, and the twins exited the arena, the night air was cool and filled with the fading echoes of the day's events. Lyra was exhausted, feeling ready to fall into her bed and fall asleep.

The downside that came with her transformation, that she still hadn't gotten over, was that she got tired very quickly. Usually, it wasn't as noticeable, but as this day was full of emotions and things to do, it was more tiring than any other, so far.

On both sides of her, Hyacinth and Apollo carried the already-sleeping twins. Alexander and Callista fell asleep almost seconds after Zeus' spirit was taken away by Hermes. The gods barely picked them up, before the children fell asleep.

Apollo, glancing sideways at Lyra, broke the silence.

"I felt something during Heron's fight. There was a shift in the energy, a kind of power. It seemed to come from you."

Lyra looked up, her brow furrowed.

"From me?" she glanced between the two gods and received nods in return. "I didn't realize I was doing anything."

"You were," Apollo nodded. "There was this subtle golden aura that seemed to wrap around him. It was almost like a shield, giving him renewed strength. I don't know if it was intentional, but it was noticeable."

"Barely," Hyacinth added. "I doubt anyone else saw that. I think most of the rest were more focused on the fact that Heron was beating Ares up, than that something felt different."

Lyra's heart raced at the revelation. She looked down, her mind trying to catch up with what they were saying. If what they said was true, her powers finally started to manifest. After days of nothing, when she tried to summon anything, something finally happened.

"I didn't know I had that kind of ability. It just happened," she whispered.

"Hey, it's nothing bad. It's good," Apollo grabbed her hand with his free one, that wasn't holding up Callista, and gave her a small smile. "We're not entirely sure what your abilities are yet, but since it seems like they're manifesting, I think we should probably explore this further."

"What do you mean by exploring?" Lyra's curiosity was piqued.

"Well, we can start with some basics," Hyacinth suggested, "Teach you how to control and use some of your powers more consciously. For example, the ability to change form is a fundamental skill for many gods. We could start there, and see what else might come naturally to you."

"I'd appreciate that," the goddess nodded with a small smile, then looked up at Hyacinth. "How long did it take your powers to manifest, then learn?"

"Well, for many gods it takes carious amount of time to master their abilities. I mean, I know some that mastered them in like a week, then there are some who took a decade. For me, I think it was like a week before they showed up, then about half a year to master them."

"Oh..."

"But hey, you're immortal now. You literally have all the time in the word to learn and something tells me that you'll catch onto that really quickly," the minor god sent her an encouraging smile.

"When can we start?"

"How does tomorrow sound?"

Just then, they reached Lyra's quarters. Apollo and Hyacinth gently settled the sleeping twins into the bed, careful not to wake them. Lyra watched with a mix of relief and gratitude, knowing that the day had been overwhelming for the children.

Apollo turned to the goddess as they finished, his expression softening.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, noting the fatigue etched into her features.

"I'm fine," Lyra nodded, though she couldn't hide the weariness in her eyes. "Just a bit tired from everything today. It's been a lot to take in."

"It might be a good idea for you to get some rest as well," Hyacinth suggested. "As Apollo said, we can begin exploring your powers tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to it," Lyra nodded, her gaze shifting between the two gods. "Thank you both for offering to help."

Hyacinth nodded and glanced between the two, before giving them one last smile and walking out, towards his own chamber.

"How about you come to my room again?" Apollo asked, taking her hand. "I don't want you to be alone and... truth to be told, I don't want to be alone tonight either."

Lyra's heart swelled with affection and her expression softened. She squeezed his hand gently and she gave him a small smile.

"I'd like that, but..." she hesitated and glanced towards the bed, looking at the sleeping forms of her siblings. "I don't want to leave them alone. They already asked for me to stay tonight. It feels like it's been much too long since we last spent a night in one room."

Apollo nodded slowly, before his eyes brightened slightly with an idea.

"Why don't I stay with you this time? We can keep each other company tonight, and be here with the twins. It'll be a bit more comforting for all of you."

"Are you sure?" Lyra looked at him, a smile forming on her lips.

"It's no problem for me," Apollo assured her, squeezing her hand gently. "In fact, I think I'd rather be here with you and the twins. This way, you can keep your promise to them and we can all stay together."

"Alright, that sounds perfect. Thank you."

The two of them moved towards the bed, where Apollo made himself comfortable on one side of the bed. Lyra settled in right beside him, leaving the other side to the twins. He kissed her forehead as she nestled into his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

Sometimes, this still felt like a dream, for both of them. For Lyra, never, in her most daring dreams, did she imagine herself falling in love with a god, much less becoming a goddess. For Apollo, it's been a long time since he last felt this content with a thought of settling down with another being and he couldn't be happier with how things worked out for them.

As the night deepened, the room was quiet, the gentle breathing of the sleeping children providing a soothing backdrop. Lyra's breathing slowed and calmed down fairly quickly, leaving Apollo alone with his thoughts.

He reached over and took her hand once more, entwining their fingers as he laid there in silence.

"I'm glad we could do this," Apollo murmured softly. "It feels right, being here with you."

Lyra surprised him by squeezing his hand gently and opening her eyes, meeting his eyes.

"Me too. Thank you for being here, Apollo. It means more than you know."

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead once again.

"I was sure you've already fallen asleep," he muttered, his lips lingering against her head and she giggled quietly, bringing a small smile to his lips. "Rest now. I suspect that tomorrow might be quite challenging day for you."

As Lyra closed her eyes, feeling the comforting warmth of Apollo's presence, she knew that despite the uncertainty and challenges ahead, she was not alone.

And that, more than anything, gave her a sense of peace as she drifted off to sleep.

The morning was still fresh and cool when Lyra, Apollo, and Hyacinth met at a secluded part of the palace grounds. The goddess felt a flutter of nerves mixed with anticipation as she looked at the two gods standing beside her.

Nearby, Athena and Artemis were sitting with the twins. The goddesses smiled warmly as the children eagerly asked questions and shared their excitement about spending time together.

Callista and Alexander had grown fond of the two goddesses, seeing them as a mix of mentors and friends, and their presence was a comfort in the midst of all the recent chaos.

Lyra was happy that they had found other people they trusted and felt comfortable around. She also knew that if the need ever arose, Athena and Artemis would be more than capable of taking care of the twins.

Apollo turned to Lyra with a reassuring smile, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"Alright, Lyra. Let's start with something basic but essential for any god or goddess. Something like changing your appearance, taking on different form. It's a skill that can be useful in countless situations, and it also helps you understand your own powers better."

"Useful as like when you kept meeting up with me in the form of fox?" the goddess asked with a teasing glint in her eyes.

The sun god laughed and nodded.

"Exactly," he grinned.

Hyacinth, standing beside Apollo, looked between the two with a raised brow. Apparently, he didn't hear about that part of the story. And he'd definitely use it to tease Apollo about it later. But for now, he shook it off and faced Lyra again.

"It's about focusing on what you want to change. Your form is malleable now, like clay in your hands. Just picture the change in your mind, and let your power guide you."

Lyra took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She closed her eyes, imagining her appearance shifting. She thought about altering her hair, its length, and its colour. She pictured it shorter, with a deep blue shade, like the night sky.

It took a moment, but she felt a warm sensation ripple through her body, starting from her core and spreading outward. When she opened her eyes, she saw Apollo and Hyacinth smiling.

"Look," her lover said, gesturing toward a reflective surface nearby.

Lyra stepped closer and gasped softly at the sight of her new reflection. Her hair was now a rich, midnight blue, cut in a style that framed her face differently than before.

It was a small change, but the sense of control she felt over her new powers was exhilarating.

"You got the hang of that quickly," Hyacinth remarked with a grin. "It usually takes a bit of time for most new gods and goddesses, but you seem to have a natural talent."

Lyra felt a swell of pride at his words, though she tried to keep her expression calm.

"It's a bit strange, but it feels... right, somehow," she mused. "Like it's something I've always been capable of, but never knew how to access."

"Exactly," Apollo said. "Your powers have always been a part of you, even before you ascended. Now, it's just a matter of bringing them to the surface."

For the next hour, they continued practicing. Apollo guided her through different changes—altering her eye colour, the shape of her features, and even shifting her height slightly.

Each transformation became easier as she grew more comfortable with the process. Lyra found herself enjoying the lesson, especially with Apollo and Hyacinth's patient guidance.

Meanwhile, not far away, the twins were deep in conversation with Athena and Artemis. They laughed and chatted, sharing stories and learning from the goddesses, who were more than happy to indulge their curiosity.

Athena answered their questions with half-riddled responses, leaving them to think over the true sense of her words, but they enjoyed that. The goddess fairly quickly caught on that the twins loved this type of challenges and she was happy to oblige.

Meanwhile Artemis entertained them with tales of her adventures in the wild. She told them about her Hunters and how the Hunt's participants changed over the years. Callista seemed to fall in love with the idea of being able to join one day, but Artemis told her that she still had a few years before she'd be allowed.

The goddess wanted her Hunters to experience everything life had to offer, before they would abandon all that in favour of the Hunt. There was a time when she allowed many people to join, no matter the age, but soon came to learn that many of them later regrated the decision and left.

She'd be more than happy to let Callista join the Hunt, but first, she wanted the girl to learn if that was something she truly wished for.

The twins' laughter echoed through the clearing, a joyful sound that added to the peaceful atmosphere of the morning.

After a while, Apollo suggested they take a break. Lyra, feeling a bit more confident in her newfound abilities, nodded in agreement. They walked over to where the others were sitting, joining them under the shade of a large tree.

Athena looked up as they approached, her eyes flashing with approval.

"It seems your training is going well."

Lyra, now in her former, human form, smiled, sitting down beside her siblings.

The children looked at her with wide eyes and ever wider grins. While they loved their sister, no matter shape or form, they were still used to seeing this version of her and missed it. The plain, human-looking Lyra.

"It is," the new goddess sighed. "It's... a lot to take in, but I'm getting the hang of it."

"You're doing great, Lyra. I have seen many new gods learning about their powers and little of them did as well as you," Artemis grinned, ruffling Alexander's hair.

The boy pushed her hand away and scrunched up his nose. Then, he stuck out his tongue at her and the goddess replied with a same, before she playfully lunged and pulled him back to her. He acted as if he was fighting back, before happily settling in the goddess' arms.

Lyra watched the interaction with a smile. This made her think back to the simple times, when they were still just simple humans living their normal lives. It was nice to know that despite how crazy everything around them seemed, the children still managed to find some kind of normalcy.

Apollo chuckled and threw an arm around Lyra's shoulders, bringing her closer to him, kissing her head.

"Artemis is right. You're progressing faster than most. But don't rush yourself. Mastery takes time, and you have plenty of that."

Lyra nodded, feeling more at ease. The morning had gone better than she had expected, and with Apollo and Hyacinth's support, she was confident that she would continue to improve.

As they all sat together, the twins excitedly sharing what they had learned from Athena and Artemis, Lyra felt a sense of belonging that she hadn't experienced in a long time.

For the first time in a while, everything felt like it was finally falling into place.

As the noon neared, Lyra, Apollo, and Hyacinth wrapped up their practice. Just as they started making their way back towards the small group sitting under the nearby tree, Heron appeared at the edge of the garden. His expression was serious, but there was a warmth in his eyes as he approached them.

"Heron!" Lyra greeted him with a smile, though she could sense there was something on his mind. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright," Heron replied, glancing at Apollo and Hyacinth before turning his attention back to Lyra. "Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you alone for a moment."

Lyra's smile faded slightly as she noticed the weight in his voice.

"Of course," she said, excusing herself from the others.

Apollo gave her a reassuring nod, while Hyacinth offered an encouraging smile before the two gods continued on their way to the two goddesses and children.

Heron led Lyra to a quieter part of the garden. He hesitated for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before finally speaking.

"I'm leaving," he said. "I paid my respects, and now, I need to go back to Earth. To find where my mother was buried. She deserves to be remembered properly, and I never got the chance to say goodbye to her. And after that... I'll see how everything plays out."

Lyra's heart ached for him. She knew how much Electra meant to him, and the thought of Heron finally being able to pay his respects filled her with a sense of bittersweet longing. Also, she was there when he said that as soon as the Games finished, he was going to leave Olympus.

Truth to be told, she also wanted to take a break from all this divine stuff that recently seemed not to stop. She knew that it would never be the same, as now she also was the part of that 'divine stuff' but still, she felt like she needed a break. A simple, short break, to think over... everything.

"I understand," she said softly, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "And I'd like to come with you, if that's okay."

Heron's eyes softened as he met her gaze.

"I hoped you would. I know that technically, you shouldn't leave the Olympus now, but you cared for her too," he gave her a sad smile. "And... I thought maybe Alexander and Callista would want to come as well. They were close to her, too."

Lyra nodded, her thoughts turning to the twins. They had loved Electra as a second mother, and the idea of them getting closure felt right.

"They would," she agreed. "And actually... I might have just figured out a way to make that happen."

"Oh?" the demigod raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

Lyra smiled, a touch of pride in her voice.

"I've been practicing with Apollo and Hyacinth all morning. Learning how to change my form. Not to boast, or anything, but I think I've got quite good at it," she smiled, then took a step back and closed her eyes, focusing on the familiar shape she had before she became a goddess.

There was a subtle shimmer in the air around her, and when she opened her eyes again, she had taken on her human form, the one she had before ascending.

Heron's eyes widened in surprise, a smile breaking through his solemn expression. He raised his hand and touched her hair that returned to their beautiful brown.

"That's incredible, Lyra," he breathed out. "You look just like you did before."

"It feels a bit strange," Lyra admitted, glancing down at herself. "But it means I can blend in when we go down to Earth. Apollo and the rest might not like the idea, but I think it's important for all of us to be there."

"We'll make them understand. This is something we need to do."

With that, they returned to the group, where Apollo, Hyacinth, Athena, and Artemis were waiting. The twins were still engrossed in their conversations with the goddesses, seemingly trying to argue that the goddesses were wrong about something.

Lyra and Heron exchanged a glance before addressing the group.

"There's something we need to tell you," Heron began, drawing the attention of the gods and the twins. "I've decided to go back to Earth to find where my mother was buried. I want to say goodbye to her properly."

The gods exchanged concerned glances, but it was Apollo who spoke first. He glanced between the two, concern evident in his eyes.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I am," the demigod replied with conviction. "This is something I need to do, and Lyra wants to come with me. We'd also like to take Alexander and Callista. They were close to my mother too, and I think it's important for them to say their goodbyes."

Athena's expression softened as she glanced at the twins, who had now turned their attention to the conversation.

"It's understandable," she said. "But it's also dangerous. Earth is different now, especially with all the changes that happened in the last few days."

"You'd be vulnerable down there, especially with the twins," Artemis nodded in agreement.

"We know the risks," Lyra said, stepping forward. "But this isn't just about us. It's about closure and honouring someone we loved. We're not asking for permission. We just want you to know where we're going and that we aren't missing."

She rolled her eyes towards the end. As she said that, she felt like a child again, explaining to her parents so they wouldn't worry. But this was similar, in a sense. They were simply announcing where they were going so the rest wouldn't get worried when they couldn't find them.

"Just promise me you'll be careful," Apollo sighed, looking more pointedly at Lyra.

"We will," his brother assured him instead.

"We won't be long," Lyra added, glancing at the twins.

She knew that Heron didn't want to come back to Olympus after saying goodbye, but she still wanted to reassure her lover so he wouldn't worry. Ever since she ascended, he seemed anxious whenever she left his side for longer periods of time.

The twins, who had been listening intently, looked up at Lyra and Heron with wide eyes.

"We want to go too," Alexander said, his voice filled with determination. "We want to say goodbye to Electra."

"We know, and that's why we're all going together," Lyra knelt down to their level, smiling softly. "It'll be a chance for all of us to say our goodbyes."

The rest gods, though still uneasy, eventually agreed.

As preparations began for their journey to Earth, Lyra couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions—sadness for what lay ahead, but also a sense of relief that they would finally have the chance to honour Electra's memory.

Chapter Text

Six Pegasus cut through the sky, as Heron and the rest of his friends sailed through the air. The demigod and Lyra had each taken one of the twins with them.

Before they left, Heron filled Lyra in on the part of his plan he skipped earlier – a plan to save Seraphim. While she wasn’t the happiest with this idea, she wasn’t also all that much against it. After all, this could be Heron’s only chance to reclaim at least one of his lost relatives.

“Once we get the adamantine for the compass, it will lead us to Talos and the sword,” he declared.

Just then, they broke through the clouds and the sight of what used to be their polis came into view. Lyra’s grip on Alexander tightened as they started descending.

Soon enough, they landed in the middle of the remains. As she looked around, the goddess couldn’t help but imagine how lively and loud this place was. Now, it was literally dead.

“This is creepy,” Evios shuddered, also taking a look around. “I’ve seen more lively cemeteries.”

However, he didn’t know how this all looked before everything happened. For him, it was simply another destroyed polis. He didn’t have memories of running away from angry vendors after stealing one of their countless apples, or simply chasing after a runaway animal that broke free from its cage.

Lyra sighed as she allowed herself to feel that nostalgic pull in her heart for a moment. She caught a sight of Heron doing something similar, as he stopped by the place, where the stand he used to make deals at used to be. Now, just like everything else, it was burnt down and destroyed.

She knew that most of their memories were not happy. But it didn’t stop her from missing this. When everything seemed so simple and normal.

But with the nostalgia, also came a sting of anger. About how the two of them were treated. How they were insulted and how people used them and looked down at them simply because of something none of them had any control over.

She walked over to Heron and put a hand on his shoulder. She saw the same look in his eyes as she knew she had in hers. Without a word, they shared a look and turned towards the exit.

No one said anything as they started making their way towards Heron’s old house. About halfway through, the demigod stopped again, as they reached the place where he saw his mother for the last time.

“This is where I saw Zeus place the coins over your mother’s eyes,” Alexia said quietly, as Heron stared at the place, where her body used to lay.

The ground was still stained with her and Marcus’ blood. Something nearby caught Lyra’s eyes and she cautiously walked over to it and knelt down. It was a piece of material. It was torn and bloodied, but she could recognize it anywhere. It was from the toga her father had when he died.

“Where was she buried?” she vaguely heard Heron ask, but she was too focused on her new discovery.

Suddenly, she felt a hundred times worse than she did already. With everything that happened, she almost forgot what happened to her father. There were moments when she didn’t remember the fact that he was killed right in front of her, the same night they were captured, the same night Electra died.

“I don’t know,” Alexia answered just as quietly.

“And what of my father?” Lyra spoke up. “He was there too.”

“I don’t know,” the blonde whispered back.

The goddess closer her eyes and let out a long breath. It was very likely that Zeus, knowing how Marcus treated her, didn’t pay for his passage and left him there. If so, then he was most likely buried with many other that died that night.

When they started to walk towards Heron’s house again, Lyra stopped suddenly.

“Wait.”

The rest stopped and turned to face her.

“What is it, Lyra?” Heron asked, stepping towards her

“I… There’s something I need to check at my old house,” she said quietly. “I want to see if there’s anything left.”

Her house was much closer to the polis than Heron’s, thus it was most likely destroyed with the rest of it. But there was still a silver of hope that there might be something left and she refused to leave that place without checking.

The demigod seemed to understand that and he gave her a small nod.

“You want to take them with you?” he asked, nodding towards the twins.

“No,” she sighed.

This trip was already a lot for them and she knew that seeing their home, a place they loved and always felt safe at, might just bring them back to the state they just got over – the state of great sadness and overwhelming tiredness.

She wouldn’t forgive herself if she contributed in any way to making them this way again.

Heron nodded again. He took her hand and gave it a small squeeze.

“Just… Meet us at my house when you’re done,” he said.

She squeezed his hand back.

“I will,” she swallowed and glanced at her siblings. “I won’t be long. Stay with the rest.”

With a final nod, Heron and the others continued on their way, leaving Lyra to retrace the steps to the place that had once been her home.

As the gods gathered for Zeus’ trial, Apollo wished Lyra would leave sooner, as he felt like he could use some support at the moment. Zeus was not only his father and king, but also his friend and one of the few beings Apollo trusted most.

It was already hard dealing with the fact that his father died, but standing in the Underworld, awaiting his trial was another level.

The room was entirely silent as they waited for Zeus to be led in. when it finally happened, the silence only became more unbearable. Finally the first judge, Rhadamanthus, another son of Zeus, spoke.

“Almighty Zeus, the Great Thunderer and King of Olympus,” he listed their father’s titles. “Know that even as our father, you, too, must stand judgement.”

Zeus barely gave a nod in return.

“But you have reached heights few have,” Rhadamanthus continued.

Then, he conjured up a massive sphere that glowed brightly in the dim room. They watched as the images inside of it changed. It showed Zeus’ battles and his great deeds.

“On the battlefield, you had no equal,” the judge said, as the countless battles flashed in the sphere. “The poets will tell your tales for all of eternity.”

This series of images ended with their final battle in the fist Giant War, when Zeus saved Hera and destroyed the giant that almost killed her.

“But your philandering is a black mark upon your soul. No victory could ever forgive these horrible acts. Deeds will forever follow you with shame.”

Thud. Thud. Thud. Three thuds echoed around the room, as all three judges tapped their canes against their desk. Golden coins appeared over one scale pan and dropped into it.

Zeus bowed his head. He knew that there was a chance that his good deeds would not be enough to tip the scale in his favour. And the judges starting off with his wrongdoings just made this chance smaller.

“But there is still another matter that must be resolved. One the Lord of the Underworld has raised,” King Rhadamanthus gestured for his Lord to take over.

Hades stood up from his throne.

“You have always maintained that the realms of the world were divided fairly, correct?” the god asked.

“They were,” Zeus raised a brow, unsure what that had to do with his trial.

“Are you sure?” his brother raised a brow, then disappeared into the shadows, appearing by his side seconds later. “

“What are you implying?” the god of thunder demanded, glaring at the older god. “I would never cheat the Fates.”

But instead of giving an answer, the Lord of the Underworld simply looked towards the stands, where the gods were gathered. Or, more like looked towards one, specific god.

“Do you want to tell them or should I?”

Everyone’s eyes went to Hera, as she scowled at her brother. He only glared at her, his gaze never strayed from her.

“And there is no escape from the truth here.”

The image in the sphere changed once again. This time, it showed Hecate as she put all three stones into the vase. Apollo only heard stories about that, as he wasn’t born until a few hundred years later, but he knew exactly what this was. The three stones stood for three reals that the brothers ruled.

“When we were all vying for the Eleusinian Stone, you sensed something was awry when you reached in,” Hades revealed, retelling what was shown in the sphere. “But you didn't say anything. It wasn't by chance you drew the Eleusinian Stone. Hera made it so. And in your heart of hearts, you knew it. But the truth is, you had changed your mind. You didn't want to give up the power of the stone. You didn't want to be relegated to the Underworld, so you went along with it. Because… it suited you.”

“I object!” Hera cut in.

The goddess flew down to the platform where the two brothers stood. She faced the judges, ignoring Hades’ glare she felt at her back.

“This was my doing, not Zeus's.”

“That's no excuse.”

“If the Underworld reveals all, then let the record show that I did it for the greater good. For all of us, including you, Hades.”

“How very kind of you,” the god sneered. “Please, dear sister, enlighten us.”

“You know the truth I speak of. There was only one god worthy of ruling us. Who time and time again showed us that he was the bravest, the strongest, and the most capable of us all,” the queen declared, the turned to address not only the judges, but all of the gathered. “When we were imprisoned by our father, who saved us?”

As she spoke, the sphere once again changed, showing all of the events she spoke of. How Zeus time and time again proved that he deserved his title and the responsibility. That while he might be unfaithful in his marriage, he was still noble and fair king, ready to protect those that relied on him.

“When the beast, whose name we do not speak, attacked, who stood against him? Who defeated Kronos? Who led the attack against the Giants? Who brought compromise and reason into the world?”

She made a pause and waited for the reaction. Thud. Thud. Thud. Once again, the judges tapped their canes onto their desk. This time, the golden coins appeared above the scale pan for good deeds and this way, the scale was almost balanced.

Satisfied with the result of her words, Hera didn’t stop there. She turned to face Hades again, stepping closer to him, answering his glare with the same heat.

“And the truth is, there could only be one rightful King of the Heavens. Only one god who could be trusted with the power of the stone. Only Zeus was worthy. And I refused to leave that to chance. There was too much at stake,” she declared, then glanced towards the stands. “Even Poseidon agreed with me.”

Gasps echoed through the chamber, followed by murmurs and whispers. For a moment, the god of the sea closed his eyes, before letting out a deep breath.

“It's true. Hera told me what she planned to do. And in that moment, I knew she and Zeus should rule Olympus,” he revealed, then looked at his youngest brother, who stood there, shocked. “I told you only a fool would cross Hera.”

“Even though I betrayed him, he sacrificed himself to save me. What nobler deed can there be than that?” Hera finished.

And once again, three thuds echoed around the room. Another golden coin fell into the scale pan, balancing it.

“You're a fool,” Hades declared after a moment of silence and approached the goddess. “He doesn't love you. Who do you think he visited before he came here?”

She looked towards her husband, hoping that their brother was just making things up now, to show Zeus in the bad light that would tip the scale in the wrong direction. However, when he wouldn’t meet her eyes, she knew that Hades was telling the truth.

“The truth is that he's never been able to control his desires. He's always felt it was his right as the King of the Gods to do as he pleased,” Zeus’ head lowered even more with each word the Lord of the Underworld said.

Because he knew they were true. No matter how much he would curse that and try to say otherwise, the truth was that his brother spoke truth and there was nothing he could do to mend it. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, he knew that all would eventually come back to the surface.

“He never once thought about how it affected those he bed. How his conquests cost the world, even when it came to his dear Electra,” when Hades said that name, Zeus finally raised his gaze to meet his brother’s. “You knew her heart ached for her son, Seraphim. And yet you didn't bring him to her. You left him in that forest where he was hunted by Acrisius and his sons. You're the King of the Gods. You could have brought him to his mother. Why didn't you?”

When he asked that question, Zeus didn’t have an answer. At least not one that would please the judges. His actions were driven by something as simple as selfishness and jealousy.

“Because you wanted Electra all for yourself and your son. All you saw was Seraphim's father in his face. A man you hated. Who better to make suffer than the son of a man you hate. You wouldn't let Seraphim die, but you wouldn't have him either.”

“It's true,” Zeus finally said. “I won't deny it. While I helped the boy, I could not bring myself to reunite him with his mother.”

Thud. Thud. Thud. The deciding taps of canes echoed around the silent chamber. Golden coins fell into the scale pan for his misdeeds and the scale tipped to the side with a loud groan.
Apollo’s face fell. There was nothing to be done now. His father’s fate was decided and final.

“While this pains us deeply, your fate is clear,” Rhadamanthus announced. “Do you repent?”

“I do,” Zeus declared.

The judges shared looks, before looking back down at their father.

“Your only hope in finding a better station in this world lies with those who are left in the world above. If they honour you and perform good deeds in your name, perhaps your station can improve,” the judge declared. “But until we see what fruit they bear, you will reside in Tartarus.”

The journey felt longer than it was, each step bringing a fresh wave of memories—some sweet, some painful.

When she finally reached the remnants of her old house, Lyra’s breath caught in her throat.

The building was a shadow of what it had been, crumbled and charred, but still standing in places. The roof had collapsed, and the once-vibrant walls were now darkened by soot and age.

Taking a shaky breath, she slowly walked towards what used to be a doorway, leading inside. Just like the outside, she was met with a sight of all of her family’s belongings destroyed and brunt. The furniture and all hand-made decorations they had… almost all of it was gone.

And then she saw it. The floorboard that had been loose ever since she could remember was sticking out of the floor. Lyra’s heart skipped a beat as she knelt down by it and reached into the small hole.

It survived. A simple, wooden box, one that Zeus, who she then knew as Elias, helped her carve when she was just a child. The wood was scorched in places, but it was otherwise intact. She opened it with trembling fingers, a small gasp escaping her lips as she saw what was inside.

It was an old doll, one she had cherished as a child. Its fabric was worn and faded, but it was unmistakably the same doll Electra had given her on her seventh birthday. The doll had been a comfort to her in those early years, a reminder that there were people who cared and loved her.

Holding the doll close to her chest, Lyra felt a wave of emotion wash over her. For a moment, she allowed herself to just sit there, cradling the doll, letting the memories flood back. The laughter, the stories, the moments of quiet comfort—all the things that had been taken from her too soon.

But she knew she couldn’t linger. There was still so much to do, and Heron and the others would be waiting for her. With a deep breath, Lyra closed the box and stood up. She had found what she needed, a small piece of her past to carry with her into the uncertain future.

Of course, she took a look around the wreckage before she left, wanting to see if there was anything else that survived. Sadly, she found nothing.

When she arrived at Heron’s house, the others were waiting, their faces a mix of worry and relief. Heron was the first to approach her.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yes, I did,” she nodded, holding up the box with a small, bittersweet smile. “An old memory from a time long gone.”

“I’m glad,” he said softly.

“Thank you for waiting,” she said. “I’m ready now.”

Just then, they noticed Evios following something, his sword drawn. The rest shared a confused look, but followed him, nonetheless. They walked all the way down to the woods, the ones Lyra spent so much time in, hunting.

“Something feels very wrong,” she muttered, noting the lack of any animal sounds that usually filled the woods.

No one answered. Instead, her answer came in a form of Evios’ gasp, as he toppled backwards, his sword flying out of his hand. As soon as Lyra noticed that, her eyes widened and she stopped her siblings before they could cross the bush covering the sight from them.

Still, Alexander wrinkled his nose as the smell hit him. The smell of rotting bodies.

Countless of them were scattered around the small clearing, their limbs and heads ripped from torsos. Blood and guts covered the ground and the sound of buzzing of the flies squashed the silence around them.

“By the gods,” Alexia breathed out, stepping into the clearing.

“What happened to them?” Kofi asked, following after her.

“That was definitely not a work of any wild animal,” Lyra scowled.

She spent enough time in this part of the woods to know that the worst carnivore they could stumble upon here was a wolf and even then, they were rare and usually lone. Besides, they usually avoided any confrontations with humans.

Before any of them could say anything else, a blur sped past them, stopping just beside one of the bodies.

Hermes took one glance at the corpses and he knew an answer.

“They were attacked by the Keres.”

“The Keres?” Lyra frowned.

She glanced at the twins and making them promise not to peak at the sight she wanted to hide from them, before she joined the rest of the group.

“But they only feed on the dead,” Ismene pointed out.

Hermes didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he extended one hand over the body and reaped their soul. His answer only came when he moved onto the second.

“Since Zeus has passed, many of the creatures he kept in line have begun to run free,” he said. “Keres now feast on the living.”

“That’s why there’s no one left,” Heron breathed out, as his eyes widened in realisation.

“They’ve taken refugee in the caves. Those poor souls were trying to draw water from the well under the cover of darkness. No one dares to venture out in broad daylight,” Hermes said, sending them a pointed look.

“You know, there’s a lot of light out now,” Evios remarked, as he got back to his feet. “Maybe we should find some shelter.”

“Brave Evios, as the patron god of thieves, I feel compelled to tell you that an old business associate of yours has just escaped her place of chains,” the god warned. “I just gathered the souls of the guards she cut down.”

Both Evios and Kofi’s eyes widened as they shared a look. Clearly this ‘old business associate’ was not someone they expected to see again.

“Did she make it off the island?” the former asked, almost unsurely.

“She did,” Hermes nodded, then looked towards Heron. “Good luck, brother. May the Fates smile upon you and this poor forsaken poli.”

Lyra bit her lip and watched as the god turned away to leave, but she couldn’t just let him go without asking first.

“Hermes, wait,” she called out.

He did and turned around. The goddess glanced at the place where the twins were still hidden, then at the rest.

“Go on, I’ll catch up in a second,” she told them.

Alexia was the first to respond as she nodded and turned towards where the twins still stood behind the bush. Lyra watched as they all disappeared behind the brunches.

“Well, well, well. It seems my brother had done a decent job at training you. I wasn’t aware your powers started manifesting,” the god mused, the smallest of smiles playing at his lips.

“Yes, he and Hyacinth noticed that during Heron and Ares’ fight I might have subconsciously aided Heron,” she smiled sheepishly. “We trained changing my appearance all morning. But that was not what I wanted to talk about.”

“I figured.”

“Apollo told me that Zeus’ trial was set on today and many gods left Olympus around the same time as us. Has it ended already? How’d it go?”

At the mention of that, Hermes’ face immediately darkened and he sighed.

“Father was sentenced to Tartarus. The only thing that can help him now, is if people do great deeds in his name,” he said.

The goddess pulled her lips into a thin line and held back a sigh. This was what she was afraid of. As the stories, and even Zeus himself said, he was greatly flawed and while she believed that yes, he was great, she was afraid that his flaws might outweigh his good deeds in the end.

“I’m sorry,” she said, not knowing what else she could say in that situation.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. We all knew this might happen.”

“I know. But still, it couldn’t be the easiest,” holding back another sigh, she put a hand on the god’s shoulder and gave him a weak smile. “Well, I won’t hold you back anymore. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll come back to Olympus. I'll see you soon.”

“Good luck… sister,” with that he disappeared.

For a moment, Lyra stood there frozen, her mouth handing open. True, she had bonded with some of the gods greatly, but she believed they were nowhere near the point of calling each other as such.

And yet, as it seemed, she was wrong.

When Lyra rejoined the group, the sight that greeted her was something she definitely didn’t expect, much less what she heard before she could even stop by them.

“Lyra, you’re back! Just in time, so, goodbye to you too,” Evios told her, before trying to sneak past her, but stopped and glanced over his shoulder at all of them. “Believe it or not, I’m gonna miss you.”

“Whoa! Wait, what’s going on?” the goddess grabbed his arm.

“Lyra, you, Heron and Alexia are the only honest people I know. And, of course, the twins, but they don’t count because most children are honest,” the man ignored her, shrugged her off and continued on his way. “With that being said, I hope out paths never cross again. Let’s go.”

“I’m not going,” Kofi declared, staying exactly where he was, Alexander and Callista holding tightly onto his hands as if they were afraid he was going to disappear.

“What?” Evios stopped and turned.

“Excuse me?” Lyra asked loudly, waving her hands to get someone to notice her. “Hello? Is anyone going to answer my question? What the Hades is going on here?”

“Evios decided that since their old associate escaped, he and Kofi need to leave and find her,” Ismene explained with a shrug.

“I’m staying with them,” Kofi repeated, glaring at Evios.

“Have you lost your mind?” the man walked back to his companion.

“I believe in Mother Earth, and if this is her will, then I must help them,” the dark-skinned man said.

Evios barely glanced at the rest, before grabbing Kofi by the shoulder and gently disconnecting his and the twins’ hands. Then, he pulled the man further away from the rest, but not far enough for them not to hear the conversation.

“You can help all you want after we find you-know-who,” Evios stated and Kofi shook his head. “After everything we’ve been through? Really? Look, you’ve already helped them save the world once. Isn’t that enough?”

Then, a sudden look of realisation crossed his face as he looked into his friend’s eyes.

“Oh, wait a minute. You think she sees you, don’t you? That’s why you’re doing this.”

By the look in Kofi’s eyes, Lyra already knew that Evios had struck a nerve. The bigger man didn’t say anything, just glared at his companion and walked back towards the group. Evios also seemed to realise his mistake, as his face fell slightly.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” he said quietly. “It’s just that… Look, I’m alive for two reasons. I was born, and I haven’t died yet. Sure like to keep it that way. But you suit yourselves. I want no part in this.”

And that were his final words, before disappearing into the wilderness. Lyra sighed as she watched him go. She didn’t want him to leave, as she had somewhat grown attached to him, but she also knew she couldn’t stop him. This was his choice.

“Will we see him again?” Callista asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Heron answered honestly. “Maybe. One day.”

Chapter Text

The group, now of seven, flew up to the top of the mountain near Heron's old house. When they landed, the demigod frowned. Something was missing. And he quickly noticed what.

"The rose bush where I dug up the adamantine used to be there," he said pointing to the place, where now only a hole remained.

He walked over to the edge of it and stopped, his frown deepening.

"What? Someone's taken it all."

The rest exchanged looks and walked over to him. Just like he said, not even a small ore was left. Only stone and dirt.

"What now?" Kofi asked.

Heron closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Truth to be told, he had no idea. The ore used for compass had to be from the same source as the sword and it was all gone now. He had no idea where it went.

Before he could reply, a scream caught all of their attention. It was full of fear and pain. Then, a screech followed after it, but it didn't sound human.

"We help the villagers," Alexia decided.

Kofi followed after her without questions. The twins also walked with them without much hesitance. Only Heron and Lyra didn't move, sharing a look. What have these people ever done for them? Why would they deserve their help? All they ever did for the two of them was cause pain and fear.

"Some of those villagers... tried raping my mother," Heron said quietly, then glanced at Lyra. "And Lyra."

The trio's eyes widened as they looked towards the goddess, but she refused to meet their eyes.

Once she reached certain age, some of the men, usually drunk, stopped seeing her as only a bastard, but also as a prize for them to grab.

Early on, it was only thanks to Heron and Elias, who came to her aid. But one night, after her father left her outside as a punishment, some of the men tried again. But she finally had enough. She fought back, injuring two of them permanently. That was the last time someone tried to take her against her will.

"What of the women and children?" Alexia finally asked.

"Hermes said the Keres now feast on the living. These monsters don't care if you're a man, woman or a child. Leaving them is the same as killing them ourselves," Ismene backed the blonde up.

"She's right," Kofi nodded. "We should help."

Lyra closed her eyes, fighting with herself. On one hand, she wanted nothing more than to never see those people again, not to relive all this pain and anger they caused. But on the other hand, her mother, Theo and Maris can possibly be down there.

"They're right," she reluctantly agreed.

But Heron wasn't as easy to sway. He stayed in his place, refusing to look up at any of them.

"Look, I didn’t come down here with you just because I enjoy nearly getting killed every other day," Ismene said, stepping towards him and forcing him to look at her. "The only reason I came along was because I believed that when you retrieve the sword, you’d actually do something good with it."

"So, you’re saying I’m just a charity project for you?” Heron raised an eyebrow at her, a sarcastic, unamused smirk curling his lips. "Nice."

Ismene rolled her eyes.

"You wish," she shot back, but the look in her eyes softened and her voice grew serious, as she stepped even closer. "I came because, despite everything—your stubbornness, your anger—I believed in you. I believed that when it really mattered, you’d do the right thing. That you’d be the kind of man who fights for something bigger than revenge."

Heron’s smirk faltered, and for a moment, the tension between them hung heavy in the air. Ismene’s gaze bore into his, and he could feel the sincerity behind her words. She wasn’t just talking about the villagers. She was talking about him, about the man he was becoming.

"Was I wrong in believing in you?" she asked quietly, her voice a mixture of challenge and something deeper—something almost vulnerable.

Instead of answering, he looked away. For a moment, they stood in silence, before Heron finally broke and sighed.

"Okay," he reluctantly said. "Fine. Let's go."

Ismene gave him a small smile and a nod.

During their childhood, Heron and Lyra heard countless of stories about people going missing in the mines, but it didn't stop two curious children from exploring them.

Once they landed, they looked around. At least this area haven't changed. It looked abandoned and rough, just like Lyra remembered it to be.

Heron was the first to get down from his Pegasus. The rest followed in his suit. Once the twins were on the ground, they immediately stuck to Lyra's sides, and the goddess held them close.

They scanned the area. Multiple barricaded entrances were placed on various heights and places. What all of them noticed, was that the area was too quiet. Even in abandoned places like this, there was always some kind of noise. But here, it was just wind and the sound of their steps.

Heron and Ismene, that walked on the front, put their hands on the handles of their weapons. Next to Lyra and the twins, was Kofi, but he didn't hold a weapon at ready. If it came down to a fight, he knew he could overpower his opponent without his sword. Lyra also didn't hold her hand on her bow, but focused on her heightened senses, trying to feel for any danger.

But instead of danger, she felt a horrible odour, one that only one thing can produce. And after a few more steps, her suspicions were confirmed. Everyone's eyes widened in horror, as they saw a couple of rotting corpses.

Lyra quickly shielded her siblings from the sight, but she knew she wasn't quick enough when she heard their terrified gasps.

Then, something caught Kofi's eye.

"Look!" he exclaimed quietly. "Over there!"

Everyone looked in the direction where he was pointing. In one of the entrances, they noticed a shape approaching. They all readied their weapons, ready to either attack or defend themselves. But just as Alexia unsheathed her sword, Lyra saw what was approaching. Or more like who.

"Wait!" she exclaimed.

Everyone's eyes widened in surprise and alarm, as they looked towards her, but she paid them no mind. Letting the twins go, she almost ran over to the blonde girl that walked into the sun. She collapsed into the goddess' arms.

"They're feasting," the girl said weakly.

Her body trembled, pain from the cuts and overwhelming tiredness finally catching up to the child. Lyra's heart broke. She recognized the girl. Pama. Theo used to play with her often.

"Shh," she hushed her gently.

She hugged the girl close and gently rocked them back and forth. Tears came into her eyes, as the girl shuddered violently, before stilling. Then, her head fell limply.

Gently lying the body down, Lyra took a deep breath and closed Pama's eyes, wiping some of the blood off her forehead.

The twins slowly walked over to Lyra's side, their eyes wide as they looked down at the girl.

"Pama?" Callista whispered, and looked towards Lyra.

The goddess shook her head, her heart becoming even heavier when she saw the tears in her siblings' eyes. They also knew that girl. Theo might have played with her the most, but it didn't mean that the rest of them weren't her friends, too.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and wiped at her eyes.

Then, she stood up and looked at the rest. They were watching her with sad frowns. She took another deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to say.

But just as she opened her mouth, Ismene beat her to it.

"Alexander, Callista... You two better find a good hiding spot. One where you won't be easily spotted, but big enough for three people."

The boy frowned and glanced towards his older sister. She hesitated only for a second, before she gave him a small nod. He grabbed his twin's hand and dragged her towards the small gap he noticed.

As soon as they saw the twins huddle together, almost completely hidden from the view, Ismene nodded and turned to the rest.

"Ismene-" Lyra tried to cut in, but the woman paid her no mind, as she continued.

"The four of you need to go inside, find Keres and stop them."

"Why the four of us? Why don't I stay in your place instead? Won't you be of more use inside, fighting these things?" the goddess frowned.

She didn't believe she would be of much use during the fight. Not as much as Ismene would. The woman was far better warrior than Lyra and they both knew it. So why she was telling the other four to go inside, while she stays out there?

"I know you'll want someone watching over the twins and believe me when I say it will sound worse than I mean it, but if the Keres somehow found them, we both know I would have better chance at fighting them off than you," Ismene gave her a humourless smile. "Besides, who knows, maybe during the fight down there you might actually discover some of your new powers."

Lyra hesitated, but she knew that the woman was right. So, instead of fighting, she simply nodded and headed towards the cave.

"Wait," Alexia suddenly called out.

Everyone turned towards her, but the blonde kept her attention on her long-time friend.

"You should go. I'll stay with the twins."

"But-"

"No 'but's," Alexia shook her head. "You've been fighting these kind of things since you were twelve. You'll do better down there, and if it comes down to a fight, we both know I'll be able to hold my own."

Ismene seemed to consider it only for a moment, before she nodded. Once that was settled, they all walked to do their respective tasks.

Just before the four of them went inside, Kofi grabbed a torch from the wall and Heron used his powers to create a spark that lit it up. The two of them drew their swords, Ismene, her blade rings and Lyra took her bow off her back and notched an arrow.

She knew she made a mistake by not taking a sword, but at the time, she didn't think it would make that much difference. They were simply supposed to find a place Electra was buried and pay their respects, the bow was supposed to be more like a precaution.

But after seeing Pama die... She couldn't just turn her back on the villages, not when there was a risk of another child dying.

As they walked, something caught Heron's eye. He walked a few steps faster, getting to the front of the group and picked up a golden medallion. It was a matching one to Pama's. Lyra instantly recognized it.

"That's Pama's mother's," she whispered.

Before they could say anything else, hissing caught their attention. Following the trail of blood on the ground, their eyes caught a movement up ahead.

A severed hand fell out of darkness, drawing a gasp from Lyra. As soon as it appeared, it was dragged back into the darkness by another hand. Kofi stepped forward, raising the torch higher to reveal a sight they would never forget.

Countless Keres fed on even more corpses. Their glowing red eyes flashed dangerously as the creatures noticed the new arrivals. They paused only for a moment before springing into action with a feral growl, charging at the group with terrifying speed.

Lyra's heart raced as she notched her arrow, aiming at the oncoming wave of Keres. The creatures were fast, their movements a blur as they closed the distance.

The first one leapt at her, and she released the arrow, hitting it in the shoulder and making it back away. But there was no time to celebrate—another Keres was already upon her, this time leaving a cut on her arm.

At the same time, Ismene and Kofi were attacked. They both grunted as the Keres left scratches on their arm and back.

"Track their eyes," the woman whispered, her eyes dancing around the darkness surrounding them.

So that's what they did. The blood-red glowing eyes moved in blurs, but the group were able to actually see them, but the creatures were still too fast. Kofi got scratched again, this time across his chest. It wasn't a deep gash, but enough to draw blood.

Then, another one leaped on Heron, but the demigod was ready. He had an advantage over Kofi, being half-god, and he was actually able to somewhat keep up with the beasts. It was almost as if time slowed down for him. Thanks to that, he managed to slash his sword across on of the Keres' face.

It screeched and backed away, into the darkness. As soon as its body disappeared into shadows, they saw the eyes blur away, as the creature sped into a different spot.

Lyra watched, almost helplessly as her friends got hurt a few more times. Each time she took aim, before she could release the arrow, the Keres sped away and it always missed, even with Apollo's enchantment.

But as she heard Heron let out a pained grunt, something inside her shifted. A strange warmth spread through her body, filling her with a sudden surge of power.

She didn't know where it came from or what it was, but she didn't question it. She just let it fill her and she acted.

With a cry, Lyra reached out with her mind, and she felt the connection snap into place.

Her companions' eyes snapped towards her, but she didn't even notice, too focused on the tugging inside of her. She didn't realize she was using her powers until the moment she saw them—ethereal figures emerging from the shadows, shimmering like ghostly lights.

The Guardian Spirits, the name came to her, startling her slightly. Their forms graceful and otherworldly, hovered around her allies, shielding them from harm and lashing out at the Keres with bursts of divine energy that pushed back the tide of enemies.

For a moment, Lyra was awestruck, unable to believe what she was seeing. But then, as quickly as it had begun, her focus shattered.

The realization that she had summoned these spirits without meaning to, without control, overwhelmed her. Panic gripped her, and the connection she had forged snapped like a broken string.

The Guardian Spirits vanished, and with them, the enhanced strength of her companions. Lyra stumbled back, suddenly feeling weak and disoriented. Her hands shook, and she barely managed to keep hold of her bow.

The Keres, sensing the shift, pressed their attack with doubled strength, their red eyes gleaming with renewed ferocity. In that moment, as the monsters descended upon them, the only thing they could do was hold back the screams of pain as countless new slashes appeared on their bodies.

Heron was taken down first. His sword was knocked out of his grasp and he fell to his knees. The rest managed to stay on their feet for a bit longer. That was until Ismene was taken down and her blade rings fell out of her reach.

When that happened, Lyra felt a shift in the air. Next thing she knew was a lightning striking oncoming Keres. Heron got up again.

"Get down," he told them and in that moment, the goddess noticed his eyes glowing with the divine energy.

Without hesitation, Lyra dropped to the ground, her body screaming in protest at the sudden movement.

As soon as their knees hit the ground, Heron released the energy. He screamed as the first wave hit him, but didn't stop. In a few seconds, he destroyed most of the Keres attacking them.

But he missed one, that was perched up on the wall, just below the ceiling. Its glowing red eyes stared at the demigod. Ismene noticed just in time as when the monster moved, she moved faster. She leaped towards her sword and threw it onto the oncoming creature.

She hit it square in the chest and before it could even hit the ground, Heron sent lightning its way.

But Lyra felt something change. A shift in the aura around them and she didn't like it one bit. She had no idea what it meant, but it came from the demigod. She saw the scowl on his face and the anger in his eyes. The rest also seemed to notice this, as all three of them exchanged a look.

"Heron," Ismene said. "Heron. Heron!"

As she exclaimed his name loudly, he finally snapped out of it. The glow disappeared from his eyes and the power slowly died down on his hands. Then, he fell to his knees, breathing heavily.

Before any of them could speak up again, a loud screech broke the silence. Kofi quickly ran over to the remaining Keres and raised his sword, ready to strike it down, but Heron stopped him.

"No," he grabbed the man's arm, before he could swing.

Then, he glared at the monster, approaching it slowly.

"You will honour Zeus' decree," he ordered. "If you don't, I will hunt you down and kill each and every one of you. Tell the others. Lest you all face my wrath."

As soon as he finished, the monster quickly scrambled to its feet and without wasting a second, took off, flying away.

The cavern was eerily quiet in the aftermath, the only sounds being the laboured breathing of the group as they tried to collect themselves.

"Let's get out of here," Kofi suggested, glancing warily around the cave.

He didn't lower his sword until he was sure they were alone again.

As they began to make their way back, Lyra's eyes scanned the ground, taking in the aftermath of the brutal encounter. Even though she wished to never see any of them again, her heart ached for the villagers who had suffered at the hands of the Keres. No one deserved that.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed something lying in the corner of the cave, half-covered in debris. It was the body of a woman, her clothes tattered and bloodstained, her face pale and lifeless.

Recognition hit Lyra like a punch to the gut—it was Pama's mother. One of the very few people, who didn't look down on her due to her status as a bastard, who had been so kind to her and the other villagers.

Lyra swallowed the lump in her throat and turned to Kofi.

"Kofi," she called softly. "Can you... Can you carry her out? She should be with her daughter."

Kofi's eyes followed hers to the corpse, and he nodded. Sheathing his sword, he gently lifted the woman's body, cradling her as if she were still alive. Lyra watched him for a moment, then turned and led the way out of the cave.

Once they were outside, the cool air hit them, bringing with it a sense of relief. She quickly spotted Alexia and called her, Alexander and Callista over.

The woman and the twins quickly left their hiding spot almost at once. As soon as they rejoined the group, Lyra looked at her friends.

All of them were battered and bruised, their clothes torn and stained. Her eyes lingered on the cuts and scrapes covering their skin, and a surge of guilt and protectiveness welled up inside her.

Without a word, she tore a strip of fabric from her toga and began to wrap it around Heron's arm, covering a particularly nasty gash. Her movements were careful, her focus entirely on her task.

When she moved on to Kofi, her hands trembled slightly. As she pressed the fabric against his wound, something inside her shifted again, much like it had in the cave. A warmth spread through her fingers, and before she could fully comprehend what was happening, the wound beneath her touch began to close, the torn flesh knitting back together seamlessly.

Kofi sucked in a breath, his eyes widening in shock as he looked down at his arm, then up at Lyra.

"What... How...?" he stammered, his voice filled with disbelief.

Lyra's eyes widened too, staring at her hands as if they belonged to someone else.

"I—I don't know," she whispered, shaken by the realization that she had just used her powers again.

She moved quickly to Ismene, desperate to try again, to see if she could control it this time. But when she touched the woman's wound, nothing happened. The warmth was gone, replaced by a cold frustration that gnawed at her insides.

"I can't control it," Lyra admitted, her voice tinged with fear and frustration. "I... It only seems to happen when... when I'm feeling something strong. I don't know how to make it work when I want it to."

The brunette gave her a small half-smile, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay," she said. "You're still learning. But hey, I was right. You did discovered one of your new powers down there."

Lyra nodded, but the uncertainty still lingered. She wanted to be strong, to protect the people she cared about, but the unpredictability of her powers left her feeling vulnerable.

"There are so many whose fates are tied to nothing and end for no reason," Heron mused quietly, as he started down at the two corpses.

Alexia nodded and reached into the pouch at her belt, taking out four coins. She walked over to Pama and her mother and put them over their eyes. Lyra gave her a small, thankful smile. They deserved that, to find peace after death.

"I refuse to die like that," the demigod declared.

But then, a faint shuffling sound caught their attention. Lyra, Heron, and the others turned towards the source, their hands instinctively reaching for their weapons.

To their surprise, they saw figures emerging from the various entrances to the caves—villagers who had been hiding, waiting for the danger to pass.

There weren't many of them, but much more than Lyra expected. Their faces were a mix of exhaustion, fear, and tentative relief, their eyes scanning the area as if they couldn't quite believe they were safe. The tension in the air slowly began to dissipate, replaced by a quiet sense of hope.

Lyra could feel it—an almost tangible shift in the atmosphere as the villagers realized they were safe, at least for now. The fear that had gripped their hearts was loosening its hold, replaced by the fragile seed of hope. And that hope was directed towards her and her companions.

As the warmth of their gratitude and belief washed over her, something inside Lyra stirred. It was subtle at first, a gentle ripple of energy that spread through her body.

She felt a strange sense of strength, as if the hope of these people was feeding her, bolstering her own resolve. The weariness she'd felt began to lift, replaced by a newfound vitality.

Alexia noticed it too. She looked at Lyra with a mix of awe and curiosity, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the changes happening before her.

Lyra's hair seemed to shimmer in the dim light, the strands catching the last rays of the sun in a way that made them appear almost ethereal, like her hair in her godly form. Her eyes also seemed to shift in colour, reflecting the emotions around her.

"Lyra," Alexia whispered, stepping closer, her voice filled with wonder. "You're... changing."

Lyra blinked, the words pulling her out of her thoughts. She glanced down at herself, noticing for the first time the subtle glow that seemed to emanate from her skin. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was there—a soft, golden light that pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

And then, it hit her. This wasn't just a random occurrence, a byproduct of her divine transformation, her new nature. This was something more. This was her domain.

"Hope," she breathed, the word barely audible, but it carried with it the weight of a revelation.

Her domain was hope. The very thing she had always clung to, the belief in something better, even in the darkest of times—this was what gave her strength, what fuelled her power.

The realisation was both exhilarating and terrifying. The responsibility that came with it was immense, but at the same time, it felt right. She had always tried to inspire hope in others, to protect those who needed it most.

Now, it was as if the universe had acknowledged that and granted her the power to do it on a scale she had never imagined.

Luckily, the people didn't seem to notice her yet. She stood behind Kofi and Heron, almost hidden from the villagers' view. Instead, they focused on the demigod standing in front of them.

The man they always treated like an outcast, looked down on and insulted... he saved them. He was the reason why they could finally come out, out of the caves they've been hiding in for the last couple of days.

Heron's eyes widened as he noticed a man push to the front, his surprise quickly replaced by an angry frown. He was one of the men, that came to his house when they wanted to 'test' his mother.

And the anger that flooded him seemed justified. How was it fair that this unworthy man survived, while his mother did not? Was this some cruel joke of the Fates?

But when he glanced to the man's side, his eyes softened. There, by his side, stood a small girl, clearly his daughter as she shared some of his features. She held a small, yellow flower. Glancing at his father, she let go of his hand and slowly approached Heron.

As Heron knelt down to accept the small yellow flower from the girl, a murmur began to ripple through the gathered crowd.

The villagers, who had been solely focused on the demigod, started to notice the faint glow emanating from behind him. Eyes shifted, curiosity sparking as they caught sight of the figure standing just behind Heron and Kofi, almost hidden from view.

Whispers spread among the crowd, a low hum of confusion and awe.

"Is that...?"

"Who is she?"

"Look at her..."

The villagers' attention gradually shifted from Heron to Lyra.

Some gasped softly as they noticed the subtle changes in her appearance—the faint shimmer in her hair, the way her eyes seemed to shift in colour, and the soft golden aura that surrounded her.

The whispers grew louder, curiosity mingled with reverence. Who was this figure that had suddenly appeared among them, glowing with an ethereal light?

Then, a movement from the back of the crowd caught Lyra's attention. Pushing their way forward, determined to reach the front, were three familiar faces.

Lyra's heart skipped a beat as she recognized them—her mother, Theo, and Maris. Their eyes were wide with a mixture of disbelief and relief as they finally broke through the throng of villagers, coming face to face with her.

And just as their gazes met, the scene cut to silence, the weight of the moment hanging in the air like a held breath.

"Mother," Lyra breathed out, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Mama!" Alexander and Callista cried out in unison.

Before Lyra could react, the twins broke away from her side, racing towards the woman they had missed so much. Their small feet barely touched the ground as they ran, faces lit with joy.

Lyra's mother, Eirene, stood there, her hands trembling as she caught sight of her two youngest children barrelling toward her.

A mixture of disbelief and relief flickered across her worn face. She knelt down just in time to catch them both in her arms, their little bodies colliding with hers in a desperate hug.

Eirene clung to them as if they were the only thing keeping her grounded in that moment.

"Oh, my darlings," Eirene murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

She pressed her lips to the tops of their heads, one after the other, as if reassuring herself that they were really there.

"You're alive... you're really here..."

Alexander pulled back just enough to look up at his mother, his eyes wide with tears.

"We missed you so much, Mama!"

Callista buried her face in Eirene's shoulder, her small hands clutching tightly to the fabric of her mother's dress.

"We were so scared..."

Eirene held them even tighter, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm so sorry, my loves. I'm so sorry for everything."

But as Eirene comforted the twins, Lyra stood frozen, watching the scene unfold before her. A strange, unfamiliar sensation settled in her chest—bittersweet and heavy.

She had always kept her distance from her mother, never quite sure where she stood with her.

As a child, she had often wondered if Eirene had wanted her at all. There had always been a distance, a coldness in their relationship that she could never quite bridge.

Lyra could recall the countless times she'd sought her mother's approval or even just a kind word, only to be met with indifference.

Eirene had never been outright cruel, not like Marcus was. But she had never been particularly warm either. There was always a sense of duty in her mother's actions, as if she was merely fulfilling a role rather than nurturing a bond.

Now, seeing Eirene so relieved at the sight of Alexander and Callista, Lyra couldn't help but feel a pang of envy mixed with guilt. It was clear her mother cared deeply for the twins, and she was grateful for that—grateful that at least they had received the warmth and affection she had so often longed for.

Before she could dwell on these thoughts, a small, eager voice broke through her reverie.

"Lyra!" Theo's voice was bright with excitement as he darted past the villagers, making a beeline for her.

The six-year-old's face lit up as he reached her, throwing his arms around her waist. The goddess knelt down, pulling the boy into a hug, feeling the genuine affection radiating from her younger brother.

"Theo," she whispered, ruffling his hair, "I missed you so much."

"Are you okay, Lyra?" Theo asked, his small face scrunched up with concern. "When we couldn't find you, we thought..."

"I'm okay, Theo. I promise," Lyra said, her voice soft but steady.

She squeezed him a little tighter, finding comfort in his presence.

"I'm here now."

Maris, the youngest, followed closely behind Theo, her little legs struggling to keep up. She was more hesitant, her big eyes wide as she looked up at her sister with a mix of awe and shyness.

Lyra smiled gently and reached out her hand, beckoning her closer.

"Maris, come here, sweetie," she encouraged.

The girl shuffled forward, then suddenly rushed into Lyra's arms, burying her face in her sister's neck. The goddess held her tightly, feeling the small tremors running through her little body.

"It's okay, Maris. I've got you."

Heron stood a little way off, watching the reunion with a soft expression. His eyes met Lyra's over Theo and Maris's heads, and he gave her a small nod.

Lyra's heart ached with a mix of emotions she couldn't quite put into words. There was relief, yes, but also a deep-seated longing and sadness.

She had never truly felt like she belonged with her family, not in the way the twins and even Theo and Maris did. And yet, here they all were, standing together after everything they had been through. It felt almost surreal.

And then, even stronger pang of sadness hit her. She would never fit in with them, ever again. She was now a goddess. And while she can and will keep an eye on them, she can't stay with them.

More so, now she'll also have to leave Alexander and Callista with Eirene, as they were still humans. They belonged there, on Earth, with their mother.

Tears fell down her face as she realised that.

Eirene finally looked up, her tear-streaked face meeting Lyra's gaze. There was something there, something Lyra hadn't seen before—a flicker of uncertainty, perhaps even regret. It was as if Eirene wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

Instead, she simply held Lyra's gaze, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no sound came out.

Lyra wasn't sure if she wanted to hear whatever Eirene had to say. There were too many years of silence, too many unanswered questions between them. But she also knew that this was not the time or place to confront those feelings.

Not when they had just been reunited.

"Grand Archon Alexia. I thought that was you," a voice called out from the crowd.

The villagers parted to reveal an old man with a weathered face and solemn eyes, one of them unseeing. As he took in the scene, his expression fell slightly when he noticed Heron and Lyra.

"Heron. Lyra," the man said with a respectful nod. "It's an honour. We heard what you did. No words can express how grateful we are. We will forever be in your debt."

Heron's face hardened, his gaze cold.

"I didn't do it for you," he said flatly, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding.

The old man flinched slightly at the response, but he remained silent, seemingly unsure of how to proceed. Lyra's jaw tightened as she gently moved her siblings back, standing up with a determined look. She gestured towards the bodies of Pama and her mother lying on the ground.

"Make sure they get a proper burial," she said, her voice sharp. "They deserve that much."

"And remember how the man and woman who just saved you were treated while they lived amongst you," the demigod's eyes narrowed as he addressed the villagers directly. "Vow to never treat anyone like that again."

As he moved his gaze over the villagers, he saw a few nods among them, while the rest put their heads down, unable to meet his eyes. Most of them treated him and his mother terribly and now, he saved them. Knowing he won't get different answer, he turned back to the old man.

"Do you know where my mother was laid to rest?" he asked.

"She wasn't among the dead we buried," the man shook his head.

"The old man wouldn't just bury her anywhere," Alexia said as she walked up to Heron's side. "He loved her. He'd choose a sacred place."

"You may want to try the Kerameikos. It's where I lay our fallen heroes to sleep. It's just past the Dipylon Gate."

"I know where it is."

Chapter Text

As they prepared to leave, the villagers began to move towards Heron and Lyra, reaching out to touch them as if they were legendary heroes. Lyra felt a pang of discomfort as the crowd’s admiration grew more tangible.

Just as Lyra was about to mount her Pegasus, Alexander and Callista dashed towards her, their faces painted with concern. Theo and Maris, having just caught up, skidded to a halt behind them.

“What are you doing?” the boy asked breathlessly, his eyes wide with worry.

Lyra’s heart ached at the sight of her younger siblings. She had hoped that her departure wouldn’t be so difficult, but now, with their innocent faces turned towards her, she knew it was inevitable.

“I… I’m afraid I can’t stay,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “You see, now that we’ve found Mama, I have to go. I’ve done what I needed to do here.”

She winced as soon as that sentence left her mouth. She made it sound like they were nothing more, but a chore. As if she didn't want to stay. But before she could correct herself, her sister beat her to it.

Callista’s small face, usually so full of curiosity and innocence, was now etched with confusion and a hint of fear. She looked at her sister with wide eyes, and frantically grabbed her hand, as if that would stop her.

“Why can’t you stay with us? Now that we’ve found Mama, can’t you just be with us?”

Lyra swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. She knelt down to be at eye level with her siblings, the once-familiar feeling of warmth and safety now tinged with a profound sense of finality.

“I wish I could stay with you,” she began, her voice shaking. “I really do. But, as you well know, things have changed. I don’t belong with you anymore.”

Theo and Maris, their eyes wide with tears, rushed forward to join their siblings. Theo, with a face filled with determination, spoke up.

“What do you mean you don’t belong with us?” he frowned, his lips pursing in confusion and frustration. “You’re our sister! You can’t just leave us now.”

Maris, the youngest at just four, clung to Lyra’s arm, her tiny face smeared with tears. She didn't understand what the problem was at all. They had all just found each other. They were here. Mama was here. Why would her sister want to leave?

“Please don’t go, Lyra," she whimpered. "Stay with us!”

Lyra took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions, but it didn't work. She felt too much too quickly to even try to tame the wave of emotions that was about to crash into her.

She glanced around at the crowd of villagers, who watched with a mix of curiosity and surprise. It was clear that her transformation had not gone unnoticed. Their whispers and glances spoke volumes about their awe and confusion.

“I’m not leaving you,” Lyra said, somehow managing to sound firmly. “I would never abandon you. Never. But as you heard before, there are ancient laws that I must follow. I am bound by them now. I can’t live among humans anymore. I’m… I’m not the same as I was before.”

“Is it because you’re a goddess now?” Callista asked.

Lyra’s heart sank at Callista’s words. It was true that her divine nature had changed her in ways both profound and visible. She felt the weight of her new powers, the expectations that came with them, and the separation from her past life.

The villagers around them, having overheard the conversation, gasped in shock. Yes, they felt something was different about her, but they couldn't put their finger on it. Now, it was bluntly stated by a five-year old. Something none of them would ever consider as possible.

The goddess tried to ignore their astonished whispers. She looked back at her siblings, fighting back tears.

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m… I’m something more now. But it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I will always love you, and I will never truly leave you.”

“So you’re just going to abandon us?” Alexander’s asked accusingly, ignoring his sister's assurance.

To him, it didn't matter why. All that mattered to him was that his sister was leaving them. And that was something he wasn't having.

“No!” Lyra replied sharply, but her voice softened as she continued. “I’m not abandoning you. Ancient laws forbid me from living among humans. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be there for you. I promise I’ll visit you as often as I can. And who knows? Maybe I can bring you back to Olympus sometimes. Athena, Artemis, and others, they would love to see you again.”

The last part was addressed towards Alexander and Callista, but as she finished, she turned to Theo and Maris.

“And as for you two, I’ll try everything I can to have you two join as well. Some of the gods would love to meet you.”

“But you’re still going away,” Alexander’s eyes burned with anger and hurt.

The goddess reached out and gently touched his cheek. The boy tried to pull away, but she didn't let him, holding him there softly, but firmly.

“I’m just going where I need to be. It’s a different path from the one we were on, but it doesn’t mean I’m not here for you. I’ll find ways to stay connected. I’ll make sure you know how much you mean to me.”

She turned to see all of her siblings, only for them to look up at her with tear-filled eyes, all four of them. She swallowed down a lump in her throat, clearing it before she continued.

“You still have so much of your lives ahead of you. I want you to live them fully, to grow up and be happy. It’s not about leaving you behind. It’s about me fulfilling my new role and finding my place in this new world.”

The siblings were silent for a moment, the enormity of what Lyra was saying sinking in. Then Alexander, with tears streaming down his face, clenched his fists.

“Promise me you’ll come back. Promise me you won’t forget us.”

Lyra pulled them all into a tight embrace, her heart breaking into tiny pieces with every passing second.

“I promise,” she whispered. “I promise that one day, I’ll come back and visit. I’ll be thinking of you every day.”

She held the four of them tightly, not wanting to let go even though she knew she had to.

“I love you all,” Lyra said, her voice breaking. “Always.”

As they slowly parted, the goddess stood, her Pegasus pawing the ground impatiently. She gave one last look at her siblings, each of them etched into her memory.

Then, her gaze shifted to Eirene, who had been watching from a distance. The older woman’s face was a mask of conflicted emotions. Her mother took a hesitant step forward.

“Lyra... I know we were never close. I didn’t know what to say or do. But... seeing the woman you’ve become, the way you’ve changed... I hope you’re happy with the life you’ve built.”

Lyra’s eyes met her mother’s, and she could see the pain and regret in Eirene’s gaze. Despite all that hurt and sadness, that the woman had caused her, the goddess still gave her a small smile.

“I am.”

She turned to face Heron and the others, ready to continue their journey. With one final glance back, Lyra mounted her Pegasus and, with a final, lingering look at her siblings, took off into the sky.

The sight of her soaring away was both majestic and melancholic. The siblings watched her depart, their little hearts torn and crushed but filled with the hope that Lyra had once again brought to their lives.

They would count the days until they met again, holding on to the promise that their bond would remain unbroken, even across the divide of the divine and the mortal.

As they flew through the sky, the group was silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Lyra’s were full of her siblings and how her life will change now that she would only get to see them on rare occasions. She was so used to taking care of them, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do now.

Sure, she had to learn how to be a goddess and how to properly take care of her domain, what was her role, but when she had a break from that? What was she supposed to do then?

Alexia rode beside her, sending her concerned glances every once in a while. The goddess rode slightly apart from the rest, clearly lost in her own mind.

Heron’s expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Ismene rode beside him, her eyes also occasionally flicking towards Lyra. Kofi brought up the rear, his face set in a determined frown.

As they approached their destination, Lyra’s eyes caught something down below. Two figures lay on the ground, one completely still, the other quickly moving around them.

Alexia also seemed to spot them, as she was the first to call out.

“Heron, look!”

When they descended to investigate, they found a man with long, black hair splayed across the dirt. His tanned skin was marred by scars, the most prominent one running over his left eye. His chest and shoulders were also scarred.

The other figure, a woman, was leaning over him, her dark cloak draped around her like a shadow.

"Are you alright?" Heron called out, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

The woman looked up, her eyes briefly flashing with surprise and alarm, before she put an unreadable mask on her face. She slowly nodded.

"Yes, I’m fine. It’s my… companion. He’s hurt. I’m trying to help him," she replied, her voice steady but with a hint of something concealed beneath the surface.

Ismene narrowed her eyes at her, but she remained quiet and kept her distance. Her eyes scanning the surroundings and the two strangers, carefully.

“What happened?" Lyra asked, as she slowly moved to their side.

She moved forward cautiously, also keeping an eye on the two. She saw no immediate signs of danger, and the woman’s demeanour, though guarded, didn’t seem hostile.

Deciding it was safe to approach, she didn’t hesitate any longer. Heron quickly followed her lead.

“He got into a fight,” the woman explained, her gaze flicking back to the man beside her. “He’s losing a lot of blood.”

“We have to cauterize the wound,” Alexia declared, once she got closer. “Start a fire.”

Kofi quickly joined them and took over from the stranger, pressing down onto the wound.

“There's no time,” he protested. “He's bleeding out.”

“Lyra, can you try…” Alexia gestured vaguely at the wound on her own arm, trying to indicate healing.

The goddess shook her head.

“As I said earlier, I have no idea how that works yet. I can’t just summon it at will,” she sighed.

“Move over,” Heron said, his voice calm and authoritative.

The others exchanged glances but did as he instructed, stepping back to give him space. However, both Lyra noticed that the woman lingered closely, almost hovering protectively. She wondered if the man was truly only a friend, or something more.

But the demigod paid her no mind as he knelt down by the man’s side and put a hand over his wound. His eyes sparked with a faint glow as he called upon his power.

His hand hovered above the man’s chest, and with a flash of light, he sent a controlled surge of lightning through the man’s body, sealing the wounds with a hiss.

The stranger’s body jerked violently, his eyes snapping open with a gasp of pain. Almost immediately, his companion rushed to his side, Alexia and Lyra In tow.

“It’s okay. We’re here to help,” Alexia said calmly, trying to soothe him as she knelt beside him.

“Calm down,” Heron added, his voice steady as he withdrew his hand, satisfied that the wound was closed.

The woman immediately moved closer to the man, her hand brushing against his forehead in a tender, almost protective gesture. His eyes snapped towards her and the tension seemed to slowly leave his body, easing with each breath.

“You’re safe,” she murmured, though her voice carried an underlying tension.

The man’s breathing slowed, his eyes flickering between consciousness and the overwhelming pain before he slumped back into unconsciousness. The woman, with Kofi’s help, quickly readjusted his position, leaning him gently against a nearby tree for support.

“Are they two of your villagers?” Alexia quietly asked Heron.

“No,” he shook his head. “I've never seen them before.”

Lyra, meanwhile, turned her attention to the woman.

“What’s your name?”

The woman hesitated for a moment before answering.

“My name is Thalia,” she said quietly.

“And his?” the goddess nodded toward the unconscious man.

“Icarus,” Thalia replied smoothly, her gaze shifting briefly to the man before returning to Lyra.

Kofi, now satisfied that the man wasn’t in immediate danger, looked at Thalia with curiosity.

“How did this happen? Where were you two headed?”

Thalia offered a small, tight smile.

“We were traveling, and… We came across the Tree Bender. Icarus fought with him and won, but…” she trailed off, glancing down at the man beside her. “He didn’t come out unscathed.”

“He's lost a lot of blood,” Alexia spoke up, having just finished her final check up on the man.

"He simply needs time and rest," Ismene shrugged, as she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the two strangers.

Lyra had a feeling that the woman didn't trust them at all, but at the same time she had no reason to act against them. So, she simply kept her distance.

“His life is in the hands of the Fates now," Alexia agreed.

“Do what you can do for him,” Heron said. “And let's go pay our respects.”

“Thank you for your help,” Thalia gave them a nod.

“You sure you’ll be alright? We can come back and help you-“

“We’ll be just fine. As your friend said, all we need is some time for him to recover,” the woman smiled slightly.

“If you’re sure,” Heron nodded, though he remained wary.

“I am,” Thalia confirmed, her tone firm but polite.

With a final glance at the woman and the wounded man, Heron and the others began to move away.

Once they arrived at the Kerameikos, it didn’t take long to find Electra’s grave. Zeus built her a whole statue, that stood on top of her grave. The woman’s statue held a vase full of blue flowers, like the ones that Electra used to plant near her house from time to time.

Other than that, the grave itself was beautiful. It was clear it was made with great care and careful precision.

When they stood before it, Heron and Lyra simply looked at it for a few moments, letting themselves be washed over by emotions they didn’t let themselves feel till now. They didn’t hit them as hard as expected, but it still made them sink to their knees.

The other three sent them one glance, before walking away, giving them time to say their goodbyes in peace.

“I hope you're in a good place, and that I die well, so I may join you,” Heron started with his prayers first. “I should have tried harder to convince Seraphim to lay down his sword. But all I saw was the man who killed you. Help me let go of the ill will I harbour for him so that I may do as Gaia asked.”

During his prayer, he held up the pedant Apollo had given him after he woke up, after the War. The pedant his mother always wore around her neck. Opening it, he looked down at the two stones inside.

When he was done, Lyra went ahead with her own goodbye. She took a deep breath, her chest tightening as she tried to find the right words.

“I never thanked you for everything you did, for me,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “You were more than just a mentor, more than a protector. You were the mother I always wished for, even if I never got to call you that. When my own parents cast me aside, you took me in and never expected anything in return. That’s something I will never stop being grateful for.”

Heron glanced at her, his expression softening as he listened. He knew how deeply Lyra had felt about Electra and hearing it made him feel slightly better, knowing that he wasn’t alone in his grief.

“I wish I could have saved you,” Lyra continued, her voice trembling. “I wish I could have done something. But I promise I’ll honour your memory. I’ll protect Heron. I’ll fight for him, for us, and for the world you believed in. That’s the least I can do…”

As Heron turned away from Electra’s grave, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. The man they had found earlier, the one with the long black hair and scarred skin, was walking away from him and Lyra.

He moved slowly, still unsteady on his feet, but with a determination that made Heron pause. There was something about him, something familiar yet elusive. The way he carried himself, even while wounded, reminded Heron of someone.

“Good to see you on your feet,” he called out and the man froze. “What happened to you?”

“I… I crossed paths with the Tree Bender,” Icarus replied, then turned around to face the two. “He fared worse than I. And you?”

“We crossed paths with some Keres,” the demigod glanced at his scratched arm. “They fared worse too.”

There was a brief silence, the two men sizing each other up, each trying to understand the other. Heron could feel Lyra’s eyes on him, watching, waiting to see what he would do next. He decided to take the next step.

“I'm Heron,” he introduced himself, then pointed to the goddess. “And that’s Lyra.”

He looked into the man’s eye, but Icarus quickly broke the eye contact.

“I’m Icarus.”

“What are you doing out here?" Alexia asked, startling the three.

"And where did your companion go?” Ismene added.

“She is looking for out steed. It got spooked after I fell off,” the man answered quietly. “I came to pay my respects.”

“To who?”

“Someone very dear to me. I was told that her sisters, the priestesses of Artemis, gathered her remains and buried them here. But it seems I was misinformed.”

“What's her name? We can help you look for her,” Lyra offered with a soft smile, to which a man replied with one of his own.

“Gorgo, daughter of Solon from Kyllini. She was a priestess.”

They spent a long time looking for Gorgo’s grave. The sun lowered and the sky turned golden. Lyra smiled softly at the sight, turning her face towards the last rays of the sun.

It made her think of Apollo. It’s only been a day since she last saw him, but she felt the need to be back by his side. She knew he didn’t take Zeus’ death well, and hearing from Hermes that their father was sentenced to Tartarus… She worried about how Apollo was handling it all.

It was Heron’s voice that pulled her from her thoughts.

“I found her,” he called out.

Icarus ran over almost immediately. Lyra saw him hesitate when he approached. Heron put a hand on his shoulder, then left walked away, leaving the man to say his goodbyes.

Still, he stayed close by, giving the man space, but his watchful gaze never fully left Icarus. Lyra joined Heron, looking at the grave. It was simple, marked with a stone that bore her name and title.

Icarus knelt by the grave, his head bowed, dark hair falling over his face. He looked so different from the one they had found earlier, so vulnerable in this quiet moment of grief.

Lyra felt a pang of empathy for him. Whoever this woman was, she had meant something significant to him. The way he held himself, the tension in his shoulders, the way his breath hitched slightly as he whispered something too soft for them to hear—all of it spoke of a loss deeply felt.

Heron shifted beside her, and she glanced at him. His face was impassive, but she could sense the conflict within him.

One part couldn’t shake the feeling that he’s already met that man somewhere, that he should keep his guard up, but there was also a deep well of compassion in him, one that resonated with Icarus's pain. It was why he had stepped back, allowing the man his private moment.

After a long while, Icarus finally rose, his movements slow. He took a deep breath, his gaze lingering on the grave before turning back to face them. His eyes were red-rimmed, and for a moment, he looked much younger, more vulnerable than he had before.

They all exchanged a long looks, before Heron bowed his head slightly. Icarus nodded back. Then, he glanced behind the two.

“You blame yourself for your loss. Don't,” he said and they looked over their shoulders at Electra’s grave. “It won't bring your mother back.”

His words caused the two to frown and glance at each other. Alarm bells went off in Lyra’s head, as she slowly turned to face the man again. She kept her expression guarded, barely holding back from reaching for her bow.

“How’d you know who she was?” she asked carefully.

“Lucky guess,” Icarus shrugged.

But Lyra didn’t believe so. Everything inside of her screamed in alarm. Something was off about that man and she didn’t like that.

“This is a fitting place,” Alexia mused, as she joined them. “The old man chose well.”

"He loved her. He wouldn't settle for less than what she deserved," Ismene said.

After she said that, Heron frowned. For a moment, he looked at the ground, before his expression melted into the one of sudden realisation. Without a word, he quickly approached Electra’s grave and knelt down by the blue markings, carefully inspecting them.

The rest exchanged confused looks, before Lyra, Alexia and Kofi followed after him. Just as they reached the grave, Heron unsheathed his sword.

“What are you doing?” the brunette asked, as they caught up with him.

“I think the old man used the adamantine I mined for these engravings,” the demigod claimed and used his sword to take a small piece off. “Which would mean they came from the same vein as the sword.”

He picked the piece up and took out the compass he got from Hephaestus. Putting the adamantine into its place, they watched as the device started glowing faintly, before the arrow pointed in one, specific direction.

“Mother Earth is guiding us,” Kofi smiled.

Lyra also allowed herself to smile a little. As she turned to look at Alexia, she saw the woman looking around with a small frown.

“Where did Icarus go?”

*****

When they finally reached the edge of the Kerameikos, Pegasus were waiting patiently. The winged horses were waiting for them at the edge of the cemetery.

Heron led the way, letting his mind wander, while the others followed in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

When they reached Pegasus, Lyra hesitated, the decision she had made earlier weighing heavily on her. She took a deep breath and turned to the group, her voice steady but tinged with sadness.

“This is where I have to say goodbye,” she announced, drawing the attention of the others.

Heron stopped and turned to face her, surprise flickering in his eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. “We could use your help.”

Lyra nodded, offering him a small, reassuring smile.

“I know, but I have to return to Olympus. I shouldn’t have been here in the first place, and besides…” she glanced down at her hands, where faint, golden sparks flickered around her fingertips. “My powers are becoming unpredictable. I need to figure out how to control them before they cause more harm than good.”

“I get it,” Heron’s expression softened with understanding. “But we’re going to miss you.”

"Not me!" Ismene called out.

Lyra laughed softly, shaking her head. She glanced towards the woman, who looked at them with a raised brow, but there was this look in her eyes that told Lyra that she would too.

“And I’ll miss you all. But you’ll manage just fine without me,” her lips stretched into a small smile. “And maybe I’ll be able to help you from above.”

She stepped forward, placing a hand on Heron’s shoulder.

“Take care of yourself, and don’t let that stubbornness of yours get you into too much trouble.”

“I make no promises,” Heron smiled, though there was a touch of sadness in his eyes.

“I think you should,” she playfully pushed his shoulder, then sighed. “I really wish I could stay and help you, but this is your mission. You don’t need me holding you back.”

“You wouldn’t be holding us back,” Alexia interjected. “But if you think this is what you need to do, then we won’t stop you.”

“Good luck, Lyra. I’m sure you’ll have those powers under control in no time,” Kofi flashed her a wide, optimistic smile.

"Just remember to give us some sign every once in a while, or this one will become a problem," Ismene shrugged, nodding towards Heron, who rolled his eyes, a small sigh escaping him.

Lyra returned their smiles, feeling a bittersweet pang in her chest. This group had become more than just allies—they had become her friends, and leaving them wasn’t easy.

There were too many goodbyes to be said recently. But deep down, she knew that she would meet them again soon enough.

With one last look at them, she took a deep breath and stepped back.

“Goodbye, all of you. And remember, I’ll be watching over you. Don’t go getting yourselves killed.”

“As I said, no promises,” Heron chuckled, shaking his head.

She smiled one last time before turning away and mounting her Pegasus. They watched her go, a silence falling over them once more.

“She’ll be alright,” Kofi said after a moment, as if trying to convince himself as much as the others.

“I know she will. But I can’t help worrying,” Heron sighed, his gaze still fixed on the spot where Lyra had disappeared.

Then, he shook his head and looked towards his remaining two companions.

“We should get moving. There’s still a lot we need to do.”

Chapter Text

As Lyra flew through the evening sky on Pegasus, the sun was slowly dipping towards the horizon, painting the sky in delicate shades of yellow and orange. The warmth of the sun's last rays touched her skin, and she felt a sense of peace, knowing that she was returning to Olympus.

As they flew higher, the world below shrank, the worries and conflicts left behind, if only for a brief moment. The thought of reuniting with Apollo and the other gods filled her with a quiet joy.

The steady rhythm of Pegasus' wings was soothing. Lyra had found out that she felt at peace in the skies, where the troubles of the world seemed distant, almost insignificant.

But as they soared toward Olympus, a sudden sense of unease gripped her. At first, she thought it was just the change of height, but then she saw that the mist was growing denser, forming a cloud that stretched across the sky.

"Aetherion, slow down," Lyra called out, guiding the winged horse to a gentle glide.

As they approached the cloud, she began to feel uneasy. There was something unnatural about it something that made her heart race with a growing sense of dread.

Before she could react, they flew directly into the cloud. The green mist enveloped them, swirling around her in a thick, choking haze. It was unlike any cloud Lyra had ever seen, almost as if it were alive, pulsating with a strange energy.

Before she could react, the cloud enveloped them completely. The air around her turned heavy, and she instinctively took a deep breath, only to find her lungs filled with a thick, sweet-smelling pollen.

Pegasus whinnied in alarm, his wings faltering slightly as Lyra gasped for air. The pollen clung to her skin, her clothes, and her hair. She tried to hold her breath, but it was too late. The spores had already begun to take effect.

She felt a burning sensation in her throat. A violent cough wracked her body, doubling her over on the Pegasus back, almost making her slip off. Her vision blurred as she struggled to stay upright, her hands clutching desperately at Aetherion's mane.

The once-cool air now burned in her throat, each breath a battle against the suffocating cloud.

Pegasus, sensing her distress, neighed loudly and flapped his wings more forcefully, trying to ascend above the cloud, but the damage was already done. Lyra's strength waned, her grip on the Aetherion's mane loosening as her body was wracked by another fit of coughing.

She could feel the spores inside her, a strange, invasive presence spreading through her lungs and into her bloodstream. Her limbs grew heavy, her head swimming with dizziness. The world around her tilted and spun, the stars above flickering in and out of focus as her strength began to ebb away.

Lyra's thoughts became muddled, her mind clouded as if the pollen had seeped into her very consciousness.

Panic surged through her, but it was quickly smothered by a growing sense of lethargy. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, each one shallower than the last.

"Aetherion " she managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Pegasus whinnied again, more urgently this time. He veered to the left, trying to put more distance between them and the cloud.

The horse s powerful wings cut through the air, but Lyra's weight was becoming more and more of a burden as she slowly went limp. Not to mention, the creature had to manoeuvre enough so its rider didn t slip off.

Lyra felt her grip slipping, her strength draining away as the spores continued their relentless assault. Her muscles felt like they were made of lead, her limbs heavy and uncooperative.

Aetherion was her only hope now, but even he seemed to be struggling, his usually smooth flight becoming erratic as he tried to navigate through the cloud, which seemed to chase them.

The cloud was inside her now, crawling through her veins, making her weaker with each passing moment.

The coughs grew more violent, tearing at her throat, making her chest ache with the force of each one. She tasted blood on her lips, the metallic tang mixing with the sweet scent of the pollen. Her vision darkened at the edges, narrowing to a tunnel through which she could barely see.

In a final effort, Lyra tried to summon her powers, hoping the divine energy within her could fight off the invasive spores. She reached deep within herself, searching for the spark of her godhood, but it was as if the pollen had smothered it, too.

Her powers flickered weakly, then faded, leaving her even more exhausted. Her coughing grew weaker, the burning in her lungs intensifying until it felt like she was being torn apart from the inside. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the sweat that had broken out on her brow.

"Please... please..." Lyra whispered, though she wasn't sure who she was pleading with.

The gods? Aetherion? Herself?

Lyra's vision was fading fast, the world around her dissolving into a haze of colours and shadows. She could feel her consciousness slipping away, her body growing cold and unresponsive. All she could do was hold on to Pegasus, praying that he could carry her the rest of the way.

She could feel herself slipping, her body growing weaker as the spores continued their merciless attack.

"Aetherion " she murmured weakly, her voice barely a whisper as the last of her strength ebbed away. "Take me home "

With a final shuddering breath, Lyra's eyes fluttered shut, and her hand finally slipped from Pegasus' mane, and she slumped forward, her body going limp. Pegasus whinnied again, his eyes wide with fear, but he continued to fly, driven by an instinctive need to protect his rider.

*****

Athena stood on the highest balcony of Olympus, her eyes scanning the horizon. She felt something was coming, something that will cause trouble and problems.

As she turned to head inside, something caught her eye a distant figure, rapidly approaching the gleaming city.

It was Pegasus, his wings beating powerfully as he cut through the sky, but something was wrong. Athena's keen vision focused on the rider slumped over his back. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the colourful hair of Lyra, her posture lifeless and limp.

Without hesitation, the goddess leaped into action. She raced down the marble steps, her heart pounding with a rare sense of urgency.

She reached the courtyard just as Pegasus descended, his hooves skimming the ground as he landed with a distressed snort. Athena was there to catch Lyra as she slid off the horse, her body alarmingly cold and unresponsive.

Lyra! she called, her voice tight with worry.

She quickly assessed the other goddess condition pale skin, shallow breathing, and an unsettling dampness clinging to her clothes, as if she had been doused in some unnatural dew.

Athena didn t waste any more time. Cradling Lyra in her arms, she rushed towards the medical building, her mind racing.

Despite her usual calm demeanour, a knot of fear twisted in Athena's chest. She knew Lyra was strong stronger than most but whatever had happened was serious.

What happened to you? Athena muttered, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what could have caused this.

She didn t believe Lyra's life was in immediate danger, but something was very wrong, and it unsettled her deeply. Still, Athena wasn t one to give in to panic. She quickly laid Lyra on a soft, white bed within the medical building and called for the attendants.

Fetch Apollo, she ordered them, her voice steady but urgent.

As they moved to obey, Athena knelt beside Lyra, carefully brushing a lock of hair from her face. Her skin was still clammy, and her breathing was shallow, almost imperceptible.

Athena placed a hand over Lyra's chest, feeling the weak, irregular beat of her heart. It was clear that something had invaded her body, something sinister.

Not long after, the doors to the medical building burst open, and Apollo strode in, his face etched with worry. His gaze fell on Lyra, and his breath caught in his throat.

Athena, what happened? Apollo asked, his voice tight as he knelt beside his lover.

I don t know, Athena replied, stepping aside to let him approach. She was unconscious when Pegasus brought her here. She's weak, barely responsive I think she's been exposed to something something that's draining her strength. But I can t tell what it is.

Apollo's eyes darkened as he looked over Lyra. He placed his hands on her, closing his eyes as he reached out with his divine power.

A soft, golden glow enveloped Lyra, and he concentrated, feeling the strange energy that had taken hold of her. It was unlike anything he d encountered before an invasive force, clinging to her spirit like a parasite.

I can t heal this, Apollo muttered, frustration lacing his words. It's not just an injury or a sickness. It's something deeper, something that's entwined with her very essence.

What? How is that even possible? Athena's jaw tightened.

I don t know But it's not natural. Apollo pulled his lips into a thin line. I can t remove it. Whatever this is, it's deeply embedded. But I can help her regain some strength

He focused his energy, pouring warmth and light into Lyra, strengthening her body and soul. The glow around her intensified, and slowly, her breathing began to even out.

Colour returned to her cheeks, and her pulse grew stronger. After a few tense moments, Lyra's eyes fluttered open, and she gasped for air, her body jolting as she regained consciousness.

Apollo ? she murmured weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I m here, Lyra, Apollo said gently, his hand resting on her forehead. You re safe now. Just rest.

Lyra's eyes were hazy, her mind still clouded by the effects of whatever had attacked her.

She could feel the warmth of Apollo's presence, the light that had brought her back from the brink, but something was wrong. She could still feel the weight of the spores inside her, like a shadow lurking in the depths of her being.

Will she be alright? Athena watched her brother carefully as he tended to Lyra.

For now, Apollo nodded, though his expression was still tense. She's strong, but this whatever it is, it's not gone. It's just dormant.

And you re sure it won t kill her? Athena's brow furrowed.

I don t think so, Apollo replied, though there was uncertainty in his voice. But it s worrisome. We need to figure out what this is and how to remove it.

Lyra tried to speak again, but her voice faltered, her strength not yet fully returned. Apollo hushed her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Rest, Lyra. We ll find out what did this to you, he promised.

As Lyra drifted back into a fitful sleep, Apollo and Athena exchanged a glance. There was an unspoken understanding between them whatever had attacked Lyra wasn t just a threat to her. It was something far more dangerous, something that could affect them all.

I ll stay with her, Apollo said, his tone resolute. I need to make sure she remains stable.

Athena nodded, though her mind was already racing, trying to piece together what had happened. She had a feeling she knew who was responsible for that.

Without another word, the goddess left the room, her thoughts a whirlwind of concern and determination.

As she walked through the halls of Olympus, she couldn t shake the feeling that something dark was on the horizon something that threatened not just Lyra, but all the gods.

*****

Apollo sat beside Lyra's bed, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of the setting sun filtering through the open windows. He moved her to his room after making sure she was stable and there wouldn t be any complications.

She was still pale, her skin damp with a cold sweat, but she still looked better than she did when he first saw her. Her auburn hair, usually so full of life, clung to her forehead, darkened by the moisture.

Athena had already left, assured that Apollo would stay with Lyra. Still, the goddess of wisdom did seem to be troubled, but she didn t voice her concerns before leaving.

Apollo gently brushed a strand of hair away from Lyra's face, his fingers trembling slightly. He had seen her like this so fragile, so vulnerable only once before and he never wanted to repeat that experience. The mere thought of losing her was unbearable.

"Lyra," he whispered, leaning closer. "Please, wake up."

He knew he should probably let her sleep it off and let her wake up on her own terms, but his mind didn t let him.

Lyra stirred slightly, a faint groan escaping her lips as she slowly began to regain consciousness. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing the soft glow of her emerald eyes, now dimmed by exhaustion.

She blinked a few times, trying to focus on the figure beside her.

"Apollo?" Her voice was weak, barely more than a breath.

"I'm here," Apollo replied, his heart aching at the sight of her.

He reached for her hand, holding it between both of his, as if his touch alone could anchor her to the world of the living.

"You're safe now, he added, kissing the back of her hand.

Lyra managed a small, tired smile.

"You always know how to find me," she murmured, her voice hoarse and her eyes closed again.

Apollo chuckled softly.

"I couldn't let you stay away for too long, he muttered, then took a deep breath and slowly let it out. What happened, Lyra? What did this to you?"

Lyra's brow furrowed as she tried to recall the events that led her here. She remembered flying on Pegasus, the sun setting in the distance, and then the sudden cloud of pollen. It had come out of nowhere, filling her lungs, choking her.

She had felt her strength ebbing away, darkness creeping into the edges of her vision until she could no longer hold on.

"There was a cloud," she whispered. "Some kind of pollen. It appeared so suddenly It caught me by surprise. I couldn't breathe, Apollo. It felt like I can t even describe it. The best I can think of is as if it wanted to rip me apart from the inside."

Apollo frowned, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. He had never heard of anything like this before, something that could weaken a goddess so quickly and so completely.

He had a theory, that Lyra's body, even after these few days, might still not be used to everything she became and could be still weaker than most. But even then, for something to affect her that deeply

He had used his healing powers to bring her back from the brink, but even he could sense that something dark still lingered within her.

"It's not just ordinary pollen," Apollo said, more to himself than to Lyra. "There's something else at play here. Something insidious."

"What do you mean?" Lyra's eyes met his, worry flickering in their depths.

Apollo hesitated. He didn't want to alarm her, not when she was already so weak, but he also couldn't hide the truth from her.

"I think whatever you inhaled is more than just a natural phenomenon. It feels unnatural. Like it was created for a purpose. I can't pull it out of you, Lyra. Not like I could do with normal pollen or any other cause of illness."

"Then what do we do?" Lyra's hand tightened around his.

"For now, we focus on getting you strong enough to fight it," the god said firmly. "I'll stay by your side, and we'll figure this out together. You're not alone in this."

Lyra looked at him, the fear in her heart easing slightly at the determination in his voice. Ever since they met, Apollo had became her anchor, her light in the darkest of times. If anyone could help her through this, it was him.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered, a trace of her usual strength returning to her voice. "Not when you're here."

Apollo leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"That's the Lyra I know," he said softly, his lips lingering against her skin. "You're stronger than this. We'll find a way to rid you of whatever this is."

Lyra closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax in his presence. Despite the fear, the uncertainty, there was a comfort in knowing that Apollo was with her.

He kept a watchful eye on her, his mind racing with thoughts of what this new threat could mean. Whatever it was, he knew it wasn't just a danger to Lyra, but to all of them.

But for now, his focus was on her. He would do everything in his power to ensure she recovered, to protect her from whatever darkness was trying to take hold. The rest could wait.

He squeezed her hand gently, feeling her grip in return. She was still with him, still fighting. And as long as she was, he would never give up.

*****

As the warm glow of the setting sun bathed Olympus in hues of gold and pink, Lyra found herself wandering the gardens, hoping to clear her mind.

The events of the day had left her feeling unsettled, and though she was recovering her strength quickly, there was a lingering unease she couldn t shake. Not to mention that whatever invaded her lungs was still in there, even though it didn't affect her anymore.

But she didn t let these thoughts cloud her mind, as she lazily strolled along the flowery bushes. Just as she was beginning to feel a sense of calm wash over her, Lyra heard a soft, melodic voice behind her.

"Well, well, who do we have here?"

She turned around to see a strikingly beautiful woman, with long, flowing hair the colour of soft violet and eyes that gleamed with mischief. Draped in a floor-length dark purple dress, the goddess could be none other than Aphrodite.

"Aphrodite," Lyra acknowledged with a respectful nod, trying not to let her surprise show.

Lyra had seen her before, of course everyone knew the goddess of love and beauty but they had never formally met, or even been introduced.

"You re a new face. Lyra, isn t it?" Aphrodite said with a smile that was both warm and knowing. "The newly turned goddess. And of course, the one who has caught Apollo's eye."

Lyra blinked, a little surprised by the sudden encounter. She offered a polite smile in return.

Yes, that's me. And you re Aphrodite. It's an honour to meet you.

"Oh, please, no need for formalities, Aphrodite waved a hand dismissively, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. You know, I ve heard quite a bit about you. Apollo has quite the fondness for you, doesn t he?"

Well, yes, we have. He's been very kind to me, Lyra felt a slight blush creeping up her cheeks.

Kind? Darling, that sounds so tame. Surely there's more to it than that? the goddess of love's eyes twinkled with amusement as she leaned in closer. You know, being the goddess of love, I have a keen interest in these matters. I do enjoy a good love story."

She paused, her smile turning slightly more mischievous.

"Especially when it involves someone like Apollo, she leaned back and her smile became softer. Come on, tell me. How did it happen? Was it love at first sight? Did he woo you with his music, or was it that devastatingly handsome smile of his?

It wasn t exactly like that. We just connected. It felt natural, like we were meant to find each other, Lyra smiled softly, thinking of her lover.

Natural, huh? That's rare around here. Most gods are too busy with their own egos to find something as pure as that, Aphrodite's expression softened slightly, though her playful smile remained. You re lucky, you know. Apollo is quite the catch.

Lyra felt a slight flush creep up her cheeks. She wasn t used to discussing her relationship with Apollo so openly, especially with someone as candid as Aphrodite. But there was something disarming about the goddess' playful nature that made it hard to stay guarded.

"We have our moments," Lyra admitted, trying to keep her tone light. "Apollo is wonderful. He's kind, caring, and he always knows how to make me laugh. And of course, he's incredibly talented. But you know that already."

"Oh, I do, Aphrodite sighed dramatically, clearly enjoying this bit of gossip. He's quite the charmer, isn t he? But tell me, what's it like? Being with him? Surely it must be thrilling, having the sun god so enamoured with you."

Lyra chuckled, shaking her head.

"I suppose I am. But it's not just about looks or power. He's well, he's kind and thoughtful. He makes me feel like I belong here, even when I doubt it myself. We understand each other in ways that are hard to put into words. It's comfortable, but in the best way. Like coming home after a long journey."

She had no idea why she was sharing all of this with Aphrodite. However, at the same time, it felt good to finally have someone to talk about this with. And who would understand more, than the goddess of love herself.

Speaking of the said goddess tilted her head, considering Lyra's words.

"Comfortable interesting. You know, most people think love is all about passion and excitement, but there's something to be said for comfort. It's the kind of love that lasts, that weathers storms and still stands strong."

"Exactly, Lyra nodded, feeling a sense of relief that Aphrodite wasn t pushing for anything more scandalous. It's not always about the fireworks. Sometimes, it s the quiet moments that mean the most."

Aphrodite smiled warmly, her earlier playfulness softening into something more genuine.

"I suppose you re right. Though, a bit of passion never hurts," she added with a wink.

Lyra felt a slight blush creeping up her cheeks, but laughed softly, shaking her head.

"Of course not. And I m sure, Apollo isn t lacking in that department, but I We haven t talked about that yet. I didn t feel ready."

Aphrodite s expression softened slightly, though her playful smile remained.

"Oh, honey, there's nothing wrong with that, the goddess squeezed her hand. You two make a beautiful pair, you know. I might not be close with him, but everyone could see how he changed after you appeared in his life. I m glad to see him so happy."

"Thank you," Lyra replied sincerely. 

Aphrodite waved it off with a graceful flick of her hand.

"Oh, darling, I m just stating the obvious. But be careful, Lyra. Love between gods isn t always easy. We re not like mortals, bound by time and frailty. Our love can be intense, and sometimes it comes with complications.

I know. But I m willing to face whatever comes our way.

There were few things Lyra was more sure of, than this. She never felt this kind of love and care and now that she did, she didn't intend to lose it. 

Good. I like you, Lyra. You ve got spirit, Aphrodite nodded with a small smile. But enough about Apollo. What about you? How are you adjusting to life on Olympus? It can be a bit overwhelming, can t it?"

Lyra hesitated for a moment, considering her words.

"It's been an adjustment, for sure. There's so much to learn, and so many expectations. Sometimes, it feels like I m still finding my place here. And I miss my siblings."

"I can imagine, Aphrodite's expression softened with understanding. I know that we started off as enemies, fighting for different sides during the War, but I also know that Olympus can be a lot to handle. Especially when you re new. But I can tell you ve been doing well so far. And remember, you re not alone. Most of us are willing to help each other, even if it doesn t always seem that way."

"Thank you, Aphrodite, Lyra nodded, appreciating the sentiment. That means a lot."

Aphrodite smiled, reaching out to gently touch Lyra's arm.

"You re doing just fine, dear. And if you ever need advice especially about matters of the heart you know where to find me."

"I ll remember that, Lyra smiled back, feeling a warmth in her chest at the goddess's kindness.

The two women stood there for a moment, the last rays of the sun casting a warm glow over the garden. It was a peaceful moment, one that Lyra hadn t expected but was grateful for.

As they parted ways, Lyra felt a little lighter, her earlier worries eased by the unexpected conversation.

Despite Aphrodite's reputation, she had shown a side of herself that was both caring and wise, and Lyra found herself looking forward to getting to know her better in the future.

*****

As the evening deepened, the golden hues of the sunset giving way to the cool blues of twilight, Lyra found herself wandering the marble corridors of Olympus.

The conversation with Aphrodite echoed in her mind, stirring thoughts and feelings she had kept at bay for too long. The goddess teasing words had ignited something in her, something she didn t want to supress any longer.

As she was still lost in her own thoughts, her feet were carrying her to Apollo's chambers almost instinctively. When Lyra reached Apollo's chambers, she hesitated at the door. Her hand hovered just above the polished wood, her heart racing.

A flutter of nerves danced in her stomach, but beneath it was a strong sense of certainty. She wanted this wanted him. With that in mind, she gathered all her determination and knocked softly, before she could change her mind.

"Come in," her lover's voice sounded from within, as warm and inviting as always.

Lyra pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the window.

Apollo sat by the window, bathed in the silver light, lost in thought. He turned as she entered, and his expression brightened, though a flicker of concern clouded his eyes.

"Lyra," he greeted her, standing to meet her. "You should be resting. After everything today, you need to take care of yourself."

His gaze scanning her as if checking for any signs of discomfort. She shook her head, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

"I ve rested enough, you made sure of that earlier, she assured him. I m fine, really. It's just I had a conversation with Aphrodite, and it got me thinking "

She avoided his gaze, a blush creeping across her cheeks. Apollo's brow furrowed slightly, and he gently lifted her chin, making her meet his eyes.

Thinking about what?

About us, she admitted, taking a deep breath. You ve been everything I could ever want and dream of Apollo. I want to repay you for that. I want to take this relationship further.

The sun god's eyes widened.

Lyra, you don t have to do this out of a sense of obligation, he said softly. I m more than happy with what we have-

It's not just that, she interrupted, her voice steady. I wouldn t say this if I wasn t sure. I ve been thinking about it for a while, and my conversation with Aphrodite just confirmed what I want.

He let go of her chin and stepped back, running his hand though his hair instead. He let out a long breath.

"You ve been through a lot, Lyra. I don t want you to push yourself."

"I m not," she reassured him, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers. "I wouldn t be here if I wasn t feeling well. I came because I want to be with you, Apollo. All of you."

Her words were a soft plea, one that tugged at Apollo's heart. He looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation. But all he saw was determination, mixed with a longing that mirrored his own. His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across her skin.

"Lyra " he began, his voice soft but filled with emotion. "You mean the world to me. I don t want anything to happen to you."

She leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with affection for him.

"And you mean everything to me. That's why I m here. I m stronger than you think, Apollo. I want to be with you, in every way."

There was a spark in her eyes, a mixture of affection and something more profound desire. It was a look that Apollo found impossible to resist, though he tried for a moment longer. But Lyra was persistent.

She stood on her toes, brushing her lips lightly against his in a tentative kiss. The touch was gentle, almost questioning, but the answer she received was immediate.

Apollo's eyes darkened with a mixture of love and desire, his hand moving from her cheek to the back of her neck, pulling her back, into a deep, tender kiss.

Lyra responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed herself closer to him.

The kiss was soft at first, but it quickly grew more intense, fuelled by the pent-up emotions they had both been holding back.

Lyra could feel the heat of his body against hers, his strong arms wrapping around her waist as if he couldn t bear to let her go. She sighed against his lips, her fingers tangling in his golden hair, pulling him even closer.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath. Apollo's hands were still on her, holding her as if she might disappear if he let go.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice husky with emotion and lingering concern.

Lyra nodded, her gaze steady and full of love and trust.

"More than anything."

Apollo stared into her eyes for a moment longer, searching for any trace of doubt. But there was none. All he saw was the woman he loved, standing before him, offering herself to him completely.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he finally let go of the last of his worries. He let out a soft, resigned sigh, and a small, affectionate smile touched his lips.

"You're impossible, you know that?" he teased gently, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "But, then who am I to resist you?"

With that, he swept her up into his arms, causing a surprised laugh to escape her lips. Apollo carried her across the room with an effortless grace, as if she weighed nothing at all.

He laid her down gently on the bed, pausing for a moment to look at her. The moonlight cast a soft glow on her features, highlighting the delicate curve of her smile and the warmth in her eyes.

The god joined her, his body hovering over hers as he looked down at her with a mixture of love and longing.

"You re so beautiful, Lyra," he whispered, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Lyra blushed at his words, but she didn t look away. Instead, she reached up to pull him down into another kiss, this one slower, deeper, and filled with all the emotions she had been holding back. 

Apollo responded in kind, his lips moving against hers with a tenderness that made her heart ache with love.

As the kiss deepened, Lyra could feel the heat building between them, a slow burn that spread through her body, making her feel alive in a way she never had before.

Apollo's hands roamed over her body, his touch gentle but firm, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of her. Lyra responded to his touch eagerly, her hands exploring the planes of his back, the curve of his shoulders, feeling the strength and warmth of him beneath her fingertips.

"Lyra " Apollo's voice was a breathless whisper against her lips, filled with all the emotions he couldn t quite put into words.

She answered by pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until they were both lost in the sensation of each other, the desire between them flaring into a full blaze.

The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them and the love they had held back for so long. As the passion between them escalated, they shed their remaining reservations, allowing their emotions to guide them.

The night grew darker, and the room was filled with the soft sounds of their shared intimacy, the tender whispers, and the warmth of their bodies entwined. They moved together with a natural ease, the connection between them deepening with every touch, every kiss.

Time seemed to blur, the moments stretching and blending together until all that remained was the profound sense of closeness they had craved.

The last coherent thought Lyra had before they were completely consumed by their passion was that she had never felt more loved, more cherished, than she did in that moment.

Chapter Text

The morning light filtered gently through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Lyra stirred, the warmth of the blankets cocooning her, and a contented sigh escaped her lips as she slowly blinked awake.

For a moment, she lay there, basking in the afterglow of the night she had shared with Apollo.

The memories of their closeness, the way he had held her, and the tender words they exchanged filled her with a sense of peace and happiness she hadn't felt in a long time.

She shifted slightly, feeling the warmth of Apollo's body beside her. Turning her head, she watched him as he slept, his features softened in the morning light. A small smile tugged at her lips as she reached out, tracing the line of his jaw with her fingertips.

He looked so serene, his golden hair tousled and his breathing even. The sight of him, so at ease, made her heart swell with affection.

Lyra closed her eyes for a moment and pushed herself closer to him, just letting herself relish the closeness they had shared. In response, she felt his arm tighten around her as he drew her even closer in his sleep. She felt safe in his arms, as if nothing in the world could touch them.

The night had been everything she had hoped for intimate, loving, and filled with a deep connection that went beyond words. Being with Apollo like that had felt so natural, as if they had been meant for each other all along.

But as the moments passed, a faint unease began to stir within her.

It was subtle at first, just a nagging sensation at the back of her mind that she tried to ignore. She shifted again, this time feeling a strange heaviness in her limbs, as if something wasn't quite right.

The warmth that had comforted her began to feel almost oppressive, and a slight ache pulsed in her temples.

Lyra's brow furrowed as she tried to shake off the feeling, but it only grew stronger. A chill ran down her spine, and the peace she had felt just moments ago started to ebb away, replaced by a creeping sense of dread. Something was wrong she could feel it, but she couldn't quite place what it was.

Her hand, still resting on Apollo's cheek, froze. She blinked, trying to focus on him again, and her breath caught in her throat. His skin looked... different. And she wasn't talking about the dark bruises she left the night before.

It was paler, almost ashen, and as she stared, she noticed faint, dark lines tracing just beneath the surface. Veins. They were more pronounced than they should have been, standing out starkly against his normally golden complexion.

"Apollo?" her voice was a whisper, tinged with concern as she gently shook his shoulder. "Apollo, wake up."

He stirred slowly, his eyes fluttering open, the warmth in his gaze giving way to confusion as he registered the worry on her face.

"Lyra?" he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep. "What's wrong?"

But before she could answer, Apollo noticed the change in his own skin. His hand flew up to his face, and his eyes widened as he took in the sight of his pale, veined skin of his arm. He sat up quickly, his expression shifting from confusion to alarm.

"Lyra... what happened?" he asked, his voice now sharp with concern. "Are you feeling alright?"

Lyra, now fully awake and more aware of the odd heaviness in her own body, glanced down at herself. To her horror, she saw the same thing her skin had taken on a pallor, and dark veins were visible beneath the surface, winding their way up her arms and over her chest.

"I... I don't know," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she looked back at him. "I felt fine when I woke up, but now... I think something's wrong."

Apollo quickly swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, though a slight dizziness made him pause for a moment. He reached for his clothes, his mind racing as he tried to piece together what could have happened.

This was something new, something more than just a lingering effect. The spores... They must still be affecting Lyra and now, it must've also moved onto him and possibly some of the others.

Not that he would tell her, because he knew she would immediately blame herself for infecting others and he didn't want that. He didn't think it was her fault, even if she did happen to be the one who infected him.

"We need to find the others," Apollo said firmly, though the worry in his voice was evident.

He quickly dressed, helping Lyra into her clothes as well. He could see the fear in her eyes, and it mirrored his own. Whatever was happening to them, it was serious, and they needed to figure it out quickly.

Lyra nodded, her heart pounding as she struggled to keep the rising panic at bay. She had never seen Apollo look so concerned, and that alone was enough to make her worry even more.

As they finished dressing, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something worse.

Once they were ready, Apollo took Lyra's hand, squeezing it reassuringly even as his own fear and unease gnawed at him.

They stepped out of the room, the morning light now seeming much harsher, almost blinding, as it hit their eyes. Lyra winced, a dull ache throbbing in her temples again.

As they made their way down the corridors of Olympus, the grandeur of the place felt almost suffocating now, the usually comforting surroundings feeling foreign and cold. Every step they took seemed heavier, the air thick with an ominous tension.

They had to find out if anyone else was affected if this strange illness had spread. And more importantly, they needed to figure out what was happening to them before it was too late.

*****

Apollo found Hermes lying unconscious on the sandy shore, his usually vibrant form looking dull and lifeless against the golden sand. His breath hitched as he saw his brother like this, but deep down he knew Hermes would be alright. They all would.

Instead, he took out his skin filled with water and splashed some of it onto his brother's face.

"Come on, brother. Get up," Apollo urged, barely holding back his coughing.

It got only worse since he woke up. After last night, he hoped for a nice, peaceful morning, spending some more time with Lyra and properly taking care of her, as he had planned. But the Fates seemed to have different plans, ones that didn't fit in with his.

The messenger god woke up with a quiet gasp. He quickly sat up, but it was clear that he was disoriented and weakened. His usually sharp gaze was unfocused, and it took him a moment to fully register where he was.

"How do you feel?" the blonde asked, his voice softening as he looked at his brother's confused expression.

Hermes blinked, trying to gather his thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out at first.

"Like I'm half dead," he finally he managed to croak out

Apollo offered him a hand, pulling Hermes to his feet, but his brother's legs gave way almost immediately. Apollo was quick to catch him, wrapping an arm around Hermes' waist to steady him. He placed Hermes' arm around his shoulder, supporting his weight.

"Is this what mortals feel like?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and a touch of bitterness.

He reaped their souls for so long, but never did he actually wonder how humans felt while dying. Why would he? Up until recently, he never felt a need to, but after his father's death, he started wondering.

Apollo gave a small, humourless smile and chuckle.

"This-" he interrupted himself by another coughing fit. "-is all Hera's doing. I'm sure of it."

"How do you know?"

Apollo raised a brow, as if the answer should've been obvious, as it was for him.

"Well, she's always hated us bastards. And this has hit us the hardest. That's no coincidence," he made a small pause to catch his breath. "Plus, she knows Artemis and I still hate her for trying to kill our mother."

Hermes let out a long breath, leaning heavily against Apollo as they started walking towards the sun chariot. He could feel the anger radiating off his brother, but there was something else, something different. Hermes, ever perceptive, noticed it immediately.

"There's something different about you," he said, squinting at Apollo. "Despite everything, you seem... lighter. Happier, even. What happened?"

Apollo hesitated for a moment, the memory of the previous night flashing through his mind. His lips curved into a small, private smile, and he shook his head slightly, as if trying to downplay it.

"It's... Lyra," he finally admitted, his voice softer, almost shy. "Last night, she... She felt ready. Confident enough to take the next step with me."

Hermes raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face despite his weakened state.

"You're telling me...? You and Lyra finally...?"

"Yes," Apollo nodded, unable to keep the smile from his face. "It was... incredible. But more than that, it felt right. Like we were meant to be together in that way."

"Well, it's about time!" the younger god chuckled, though it came out as more of a rasp. "I was beginning to think you were going to spend eternity pining after her without doing anything about it."

He was used to his brother sleeping with different beings, then sometimes catching feelings. He was usually the first to know when something happened, as the two shared almost anything. 

But to see him first catch feelings, then spend the night with Lyra when she felt ready... He could recall only one other situation when something similar happened.

Apollo rolled his eyes, though there was no real annoyance behind it.

"I wanted to make sure she was ready, that she felt safe with me. I didn't want to rush anything."

Even he felt strange saying that, but it felt right. There was this feeling he couldn't quite put into words, even as a god of poetry. Even while his habits screamed at him to make a move, his instincts stopped him from acting.

"And that's why she loves you," Hermes said, his voice turning sincere. "You actually care about her, about what she wants. You're not just in it for yourself."

Apollo's expression softened, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings.

"I do care about her, more than anything. She's... She's everything to me, Hermes."

Hermes grinned again, clapping Apollo on the back, though the gesture was weaker than usual.

"I'm happy for you, brother. Truly. You deserve this. You deserve to have someone who cares about you as much as you care about them."

Apollo's heart swelled at his brother's words. 

"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice filled with gratitude.

Just then, they reached the sun chariot. Apollo carefully helped Hermes onto it, making sure his brother was comfortable and supported before he took the reins. Then, with a practiced motion, Apollo guided the sun chariot upwards.

"So, how's Lyra handling this new illness, or whatever it is that's going on with us?" Hermes asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

Apollo took a deep breath, his gaze focused on the horizon as he considered his answer.

"At first, she took it really badly. The spores hit her hard, and she was in quite a state," he shuddered as he thought back to the state he found her in after arriving at the medical building. "But she's strong. She's been coping better than us, Zeus' bastards, but still not as well as the others."

Hermes furrowed his brow, processing Apollo's words.

"That's something, at least," he said after a moment. "But it sounds like she's still not in the clear."

"No, she's not," the sun god shook his head. "From what I gathered, everyone got infected overnight. All of us are affected. And the worst part is, none of us know what to expect from this."

*****

They landed gracefully on the balcony, Apollo's face pale and drawn, his condition worsening by the minute. Hermes, though still weak, managed to assist his brother as they disembarked from the sun chariot. It seemed to hit the sun god harder than his younger brother.

As they stepped onto the familiar marble floor of the palace, Lyra was already waiting for them. Her concern was evident as she rushed forward, her eyes scanning Apollo and Hermes with visible worry.

"Welcome back," Lyra greeted them, her voice soft but tinged with relief.

She reached out to help Apollo, noticing immediately how much he relied on his brother's for support. Wanting to relieve Hermes, who wasn't faring much better, she took over and put her lover's arm around her shoulders.

"How are you both?" she looked between the two.

"We've seen better days," Apollo gave her a faint smile, though it did little to mask his discomfort.

Lyra winced sympathetically. She was feeling really unwell, so she could only imagine how awful the two gods felt if they had it worse. But there was little they could do to relieve them.

"Athena asked me to get you both as soon as you return," she informed them instead. "There's a something she wants to share with us."

"Lead the way," Hermes nodded.

Lyra guided them through the grand halls of the palace, their steps echoing softly against the marble floors. They made their way to the balcony, where the meeting was set to take place.

As they arrived, they were greeted by Athena, Artemis and Hestia already gathered there. The group was seated around a set of benches arranged in a semicircle.

Apollo took a seat beside Lyra, his strength failing him as he leaned heavily on her. Lyra shifted slightly, trying to provide as much support as possible while maintaining her own composure. Apollo's condition was apparent to everyone present, and Lyra's own struggles were evident as well.

Artemis glanced over with a concerned frown, while Hestia's gaze was filled with quiet sympathy. Athena's expression was serious, her focus entirely on the matter at hand.

As the meeting began, Athena addressed the group. The discussion was centred around the nature of the spores and their effects. And the goddess of wisdom confirmed their suspicions with a tone of grim determination.

"The spores have been designed to target those conceived out of wedlock more severely than the rest of us," she explained.

Then, she glanced to the side and walked over to the crack in the ground. Lyra barely caught a glimpse of a root growing out of it, but before she could ask about it, Athena put a finger to her lips, a sign for them to be silent. Everyone remained silent as she continued, her voice dropping almost to a whisper.

"But it wasn't Hera who unleashed them. It was Demeter," Athena's expression hardened. "She wanted to make it look like it was Hera. And she's listening to us now as we speak."

Everyone exchanged glances. If it wasn't for the certainty they heard in the goddess' voice, none of them would probably believe it. After all, Demeter never seemed to show any signs of either hating other gods well, maybe except for Hades, who she openly disliked or a desire to take over Olympus.

But Athena didn't pay their reactions any mind, as she released the root from under her foot and her gaze swept over the group, her voice going back to its normal volume as she addressed them again.

"We found where Hera is hiding. And we'll deal with her in kind."

After this declaration, Athena looked at all of them one last time, before leaving.

*****

The arena was quiet, the only sound being the distant echoes of a breeze that swirled around the ancient stone pillars. Persephone stood alone before the pedestals, gazing at the place where remnants of those who had fallen during the War were displayed just a few days earlier.

She, unlike everyone else, was not affected by the sickness. Some thought it was because of her powers as the goddess of spring and control over plants. But now, a small circle had a reason this had nothing to do with her domain.

The soft sound of footsteps broke the silence, drawing Persephone's attention, her expression shifting from contemplation to guardedness.

"Where's your mother?" Athena's voice startled her.

Persephone whirled around, only to find Artemis and Athena standing there. The Queen of the Underworld would like to say they looked weak and vulnerable, due to their state, but as they stood there, glaring at her, they looked anything but.

Instead, she schooled her expression into one of practiced coldness, one that she often had to put up in the Underworld while dealing with her subjects as a Queen.

"I don't know," she replied and prepared to leave.

But as she turned to make her exit, Hermes suddenly appeared in front of her, removing the hood of his cloak. His once-hidden presence now revealed, Hermes blocked her path, his expression the same unwavering coldness that their sisters wore.

Caught off guard, Persephone spun on her heel, her mind racing for another escape route. She moved quickly toward the opposite side of the arena, but as she neared the shadowed pillars, Apollo and Lyra emerged from behind one of them.

Their presence was a silent but clear message that there would be no easy way out.

Persephone's heart pounded as she weighed her options, her eyes darting around for any remaining means of escape. The realization hit her as she saw the last exit path.

But before she could even move, a gust of wind swept through the arena, and Hestia descended gracefully from above, landing between Persephone and her final route.

Surrounded, Persephone's eyes darkened with resolve. Her fingers twitched as she began to summon her power, a last-ditch effort to defend herself. But before she could channel the energy, Athena stepped forward, her voice calm but authoritative as she spoke a single word:

"Don't."

Persephone's breath hitched at Athena's command. The air around her stilled, the tension heavy as she hesitated, the thought of resistance fading.

Her shoulders slumped, almost unnoticeably, the defiance slowly draining from her. Without another word, she allowed herself to be cornered, but still held her head high, even as the group closed in around her.

With the resolve of a captured predator, Persephone remained motionless as Athena and the others tightened the circle.

The goddess of the underworld had been caught, and there would be no escape this time. At least for now.

*****

In the gathering shadows of the late afternoon, the gods were preparing for their departure to the place of the challenge.

The atmosphere was tense, a mix of anticipation and steely resolve as they armed themselves and made final preparations. Weapons were checked, strategies discussed in low murmurs, and every detail was scrutinized to ensure they were ready for whatever lay ahead.

Lyra stood apart from the others for a moment, her eyes focused on Apollo as he adjusted the quiver of arrows slung across his back, before moving to check up on his horses for the last time.

She watched him with a soft, contemplative expression, her mind replaying the events of the last few days. With a quiet breath, she approached him.

"Apollo," she called softly, her voice gentle as she reached his side.

He turned to her, his golden eyes meeting hers with a warm but slightly weary smile.

"Everything alright?" he asked, taking her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles.

She nodded, her gaze shifting briefly to the ground before returning to his.

"Yes, but there's something I wanted... No, something I need to share with you before we leave."

His brow furrowed slightly in concern, and he took a step closer, giving her his full attention.

"What is it?"

She hesitated for a brief moment, gathering her thoughts.

"While I was on Earth... I found something out. About my domain."

"Your domain? You mean...?" Apollo's expression softened.

"Hope," she said, a soft smile blooming on her lips. "That's what my domain is. It wasn't clear at first, but the more time I spent there, the more I felt it."

Apollo's eyes lit up with understanding, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He pulled her closer and rested his forehead against hers.

"Hope," he repeated quietly, as if testing the word. "It suits you. You've always had a way of bringing light into the shadows."

Lyra blushed slightly at his words but continued and pulled back slightly.

"That's not all. My powers... they've started manifesting more strongly. I healed a wound with just a touch. And after we ran into Keres, during a fight before you start worrying, I'm fine, really I was able to summon beings, creatures of light, that helped us fend off an attack."

Apollo's eyes widened with a mixture of awe and pride.

"That's incredible, Lyra," he grinned. "That means you're getting more and more in tune with your new, divine nature."

She smiled, though there was a hint of nervousness in her eyes. She closed her eyes with a sigh and leaned her head against his chest. The god wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

"It's all happening so quickly," she quietly. "I wasn't expecting it to manifest like this. I suppose I was still getting used to the idea of being a goddess."

Apollo put his head on top of hers and slowly ran his hand up and down her back in reassuring, almost protective manner.

"You're doing more than just getting used to it. You're thriving, becoming exactly who you're meant to be," he kissed her head.

Lyra looked up at him, feeling a mixture of pride and uncertainty. She gave him a weak smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. 

"I'm glad you think so, but... it's a lot to take in," she sighed and looked down again. "Sometimes, I feel like I'm just pretending to be this strong, confident goddess everyone expects me to be."

"You're not pretending, Lyra," Apollo shook his head gently, his eyes filled with unwavering affection. "You've faced so much already, and you've come out stronger every time. That strength was always there it's just more visible now."

She looked at him again, searching his eyes for any signs that he might be lying, but she found none. She relaxed slightly, feeling a little more at ease with his words.

"I hope you're right," she shrugged instead.

"I know I am," the god said with a soft smile, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "You've already proven your strength, Lyra, time and time again. But remember, you don't have to face this alone. We're in this together."

Lyra nodded, comforted by his presence. Everything about this situation felt like to was crushing her, the new expectations and powers she still had no control over, but knowing she had Apollo by her side made it easier to bear.

She took a deep breath, drawing strength from the warmth of his embrace.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but Apollo heard it clearly.

He simply held her tighter, a silent promise that he would always be there for her.

They stood there for a moment longer, the world around them fading away as they found solace in each other.

But soon enough, the reality of their mission pulled them back. They knew they had to stay focused, especially when they were possibly going into another battle.

Finally, Apollo reluctantly pulled back slightly.

"We should go," he said quietly. "The others will be waiting."

"I know," she whispered. "And I'm ready for whatever comes next, as long as you're by my side."

Apollo tilted her chin up so that she was looking into his eyes, his gaze filled with a deep affection.

"Always," he promised softly before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

With a final glance at each other, they turned and made their way back to the others. The path before them was uncertain, but they knew that as long as they stood together, they could overcome anything.

As they rejoined the group, Lyra felt a renewed sense of purpose. She wasn't just following Apollo into battle she was stepping into her own power, ready to play her part in whatever was to come.

The strength within her, the hope she embodied, was something she now understood more clearly, now that she slowly was coming to terms with her new role as a goddess and the powers that came with it. And with Apollo by her side, she felt ready to embrace it.

Chapter Text

Lyra s heart pounded as the chariots touched down on the rocky cliffside. The air was heavy with tension, the impending threat of battle making her pulse quicken.

She felt a reassuring pressure of Apollo s hand as he helped her down, his touch both firm and tender. Her eyes scanned the scene below, where the gods and their armies had gathered.

She could see Hades and Demeter standing together, many dark-clad figures, soldiers of the Underworld, standing behind them. On the other side stood Ares, Aphrodite and another goddess she quickly recognized as Enyo. The trio also had their own warrior, clad in golden armours.

Lyra s eyes met Persephone s briefly. The Queen of the Underworld's gaze was unreadable, but there was a flicker of defiance and weariness, before she once again turned her eyes away and tried to tug her arm out of Hermes grip.

Athena s Pegasus landed with a fluid grace beside them. As she dismounted, she nodded to her allies. Time to put their plan in motion.

Hermes approached and handed over the shackled Persephone to his sister, before stepping back again. Lyra could sense the shift in the air it was as if the very atmosphere crackled with the anticipation of what was to come.

She could also feel the hatred and anger coming off in waved from both Hades and Demeter as they saw the person they deeply cared for being her captive.

No! she could hear Hades voice as he ripped his helm off his head and glared at the group above.

Athena wasted no time. Her voice, clear and authoritative, cut through the murmur of the assembled legions.

Turn your army around and leave, she called out, her tone commanding. Then we'll set her free.

Below them, the Lord of the Underworld s unwavering gaze met Athena s with anger and very well concealed fear blazing in them. Beside him, Demeter wore similar expression. 

While she despised her brother, and fought with him more than she cared to remember, Persephone's safety and happiness was one thing uniting them at the moment. The one thing that made them look past their fights and disagreements and agree to work together.

No. Set her free now, Hades' response was a low, rumbling growl. 

Athena s expression hardened, but she did not back down.

It s over!

Lyra s gaze was drawn to the cavern where she could see Ismene, Kofi and Alexia peering out. Their faces were tense, their expressions filled with concern and fear, as they could probably also sense this would most likely not end up peacefully. Ismene already held her hand on her blade rings, ready to attack or defend.

As the standoff continued, a nymph with faintly shimmering skin and midnight black hair and Seraphim appeared beside Ismene, Kofi and Alexia, joined shortly by Heron.

The nymph seemed to want to surge forward and intervene, but Seraphim caught her arm and pulled her back. She struggled against him for a moment, before he whispered something to her that made her stop and watch.

The demon remained close to the nymph, his arms unwrapping themselves from around her, but still maintained the physical contact. Almost protective aura radiated off of him as his free hand clenched into fists at his side.

Heron scanned the scene with a sharp, calculating gaze. Lyra could see the strain in his posture, the sense of responsibility he carried as he took in every detail of the situation.

But still, she couldn t help the small pang of relief she felt when she saw him. It s been such a short time, but so much has happened since they parted.

The cliffside was a stage for a battle of wills, each side holding its ground. Lyra stood by Apollo, her gaze fixed on the leaders of the opposing sides, hoping that a peaceful resolution might yet be within reach, despite everything saying otherwise.

I'm not going to ask you again, Hades growled.

The air seemed to grow thicker, charged with the intensity of the conflict and the uncertainty of what would happen next.

But they didn t have to wait long. The cawing of crows echoed around the otherwise quiet beach and an eruption of purple power followed only seconds later.

The glow faded away, revealing Hera standing between the two sides.

Stand down, she ordered.

She stood with her back turned towards the group on the cliff, instead facing her brother who glared at her. But before he could even open his mouth to speak, she continued.

War will not determine who is right. Only who is left. Think of the others before you send them charging forward, before your swords are drawn, and the sand made wet with blood, ask yourselves why, she glanced towards Ares, who listened silently, standing in the same place he was when Lyra and the rest arrived. Why fight this fight? Don't make the mistake I made. No one needs to die today.

For a second, it seemed like Hades might actually listen. First, he looked at Hera, then towards Persephone. The two held each other s gaze for a moment, before the god s expression hardened and he looked towards the Eleusinian Stone strapped to eagle s back.

I've tried to be fair, he declared. But only with blood can what's been done be undone.

Hera looked down, clearly disappointed with her brother s choice. But she didn t try to change his mind. Instead, she disappeared in the purple swirl of her powers.

Forward! the Lord of the Underworld commanded.

In that instant, chaos erupted. Hades followers surged forward, attacking the guards appointed to guard the Eleusinian Stone, who stood in a circle around the eagle.

The battle for the stone had officially begun.

Hades, eyes blazing with fury, seized the opportunity. With a swift, decisive movement, he threw his bident at Athena. The goddess eyes widened and she jumped to the side to avoid the oncoming weapon.

However, while doing so, she also had to leave Persephone unguarded. With another wave of his hand, Hades called his bident back. It sailed through the air, going back towards them. Persephone took her chance and jumped, using her cuffs to catch onto her husband s weapon.

Athena tried to jump after her, but Demeter stepped in. Using her powers, she summoned a large vine and caught the goddess of wisdom mid-air. Athena struggled only for a second, before her aunt slammed her into the side of the cliff.

The stone! she gasped, turning to look at the gods behind her.

Almost immediately, Apollo and Hesta started using their powers to shoot balls of fire at anyone who tried to take the stone. Near them, Artemis and Lyra used their bows to shoot anyone the two missed.

Hermes climbed down and tried to help Athena free herself, but the vine held strong.

Suddenly, the two noticed Seraphim heading for the Stone. Exchanging a nod, the goddess gave her brother a signal. That was all he needed. Using his power, he sped down the hill, before charging towards the guardians. In the same moment Seraphim threw his bident.

The god ducked under the guardian s sword, and staying low, he also let the oncoming bidet fly over him. It hit the guardian instead, clearing Hermes' path to the Stone.

The moment he grabbed the stone, power surged through him. He was already the fastest and swiftest of the gods, but holding the stone, the messenger god only seemed to become even faster and swifter.

Lyra s eyes widened as she watched Hades attempt to grab the Eleusinian Stone from Hermes. His dark energy crackled around him as he tried to retrieve the stone, but the messenger god was too swift. Despite Hades best efforts, Hermes held firm, keeping the stone close to him.

Athena, freed from the vine that Demeter had ensnared her with, joined the fray. She got on her Pegasus and took off, intent on aiding Hermes. She flew towards him, hand extended as he jumped. 

They almost had it, when suddenly, a tornado summoned by Aphrodite, thwarted their plan. The ruthless winds of the tornado swept across the battlefield, creating chaos and confusion.

It swept Hermes off course, sending him crashing to the side. Ares seized this opportunity. He hurled his hammer at Hermes, striking with precise force, causing the messenger god to lose his grip on the stone.

It tumbled through the air, and landed exactly in the middle of the small clearing. Ares and Seraphim leapt for the stone and the demon got there first. However, the god of war was not about to lose to the lesser being. He refused.

HIs eyes glowed brightly as he swung his hammer at Seraphim, aiming to dislodge him, but was interrupted mid-swing. A lightning hit him square in the chest, sending him flying a few feet back.

The demon turned just in time to see the power fade from his brother s eyes and outstretched hand.

Lyra raised a brow as she noticed this. She knew of Heron s plans to save Seraphim, this being his sole reason for recovering the sword, but she didn t think he d actually succeed. 

But she got used to him proving her wrong years ago.

However, when Seraphim made a move to grab the stone, Demeter ensnared him with her vines, her power lashing out to restrain him. 

Another set of vines wrapped around the demon s bident, pressing it threateningly against his throat. Her gaze was fierce, intent on taking the stone herself.

But the arrival of Poseidon on a giant stingray brought another shift to the battle. He appeared, riding atop a colossal stingray that surged through the battlefield.

The wave crashed over the cliff, a torrent of water that washed away both soldiers and gods alike. Lyra was caught in the wave s force, struggling to keep her footing as the water surged around her.

The wave receded, and amidst the chaos, Lyra saw that the Eleusinian Stone washed up next to Heron, withing a reaching range from him. Her eyes widened as she saw him reach for it.

But just as he was about to grab it, a warrior of the Underworld lunged at him, aiming a deadly stab. However, before he even had a chance to touch the demigod, Seraphim threw his bident, killing the warrior and saving Heron in the process.

The two brothers looked at each other for a moment, before exchanging a nod.

What surprised Lyra the most, was that Seraphim made no move towards the stone, only watched what Heron would do with it. She was sure that demon would seize any opportunity presented to get more power, but yet again, she was proved wrong.

For a moment, Lyra doubted Heron would make a move to grab the Stone. He had no desire to be involved with this and she knew it. But then, she heard the yells.

Heron frantically looked around and saw the gods and warriors charging towards him from both sides. This changed his decision.

The moment he touched the stone, a surge of lightning erupted from him, the raw power crackling through the air. Anyone approaching with hostile intent was thrown back by the force of his lightning.

The gods around them halted, their expressions a mix of awe and fear. Lyra s own pulse quickened as she saw the overwhelming display of power. It was something only Zeus had wielded before, and now Heron was channelling that same force.

The gods paused, their previous certainty replaced by a profound sense of hesitation.

But the warriors had no such restrictions, as they continued their relentless assault, not caring that their attempts to attack Heron were met with destructive lightning that vaporised them on contact.

Lyra, caught up in the frantic energy of the battle, struggled to keep her bearings. She was pushed and jostled, her senses overwhelmed by the chaos. In the midst of the storm of fighting, she saw a figure darting around the edges of the battlefield, moving with swift, almost ethereal grace.

Then, turning away from the mysterious stranger, she was met with a sight of Hades being struck by lightning. However, instead of vaporising, like the warriors that attempted to attack Heron, he was only pushed back.

Ares got the closest, managing to fight off a few of the lightnings sent his way, but eventually he also got knocked back. And after he was hit, he didn t raise up for a good while.

Hera tried to run to his side, but a lightning got in her way. It didn t hit her, but made her flatter and stop.

Soon enough, the power died down. At least the one swirling in the air around them, because taking one look at Heron, Lyra knew that the power inside him only seemed to grow.

His gaze swept over gods and warriors gathered around, before stopping at one, specific goddess. The sight of Hera stirred something deep within him.

The temptation to unleash his pent-up power upon her was palpable, a simmering rage that had been building up from the grievances he had harboured for so long. To repay her for all the hurt and pain she caused him.

Seraphim noticed the shift in his brother. He stepped closer, his words a blend of anger and hurt, urging Heron to act against Hera.

Do it. For our mother, the demon growled.

The suggestion, laced with personal vendetta, hung heavy in the air. Heron s face tightened with barely restrained rage as he remembered all he learned about Hera s doings, that resulted in their mother s death. It was her fault. She was responsible for this.

She was the reason why he lost the most important person in his life and she didn t even feel remorse for this. Not only that, but she also demanded his pain and death.

For what they did to us, Seraphim continued.

Heron wasn t the only person that suffered at the hands of Hera. Both brothers had lived through many challenges and hardships, most of them caused by the gods. By Hera. If it wasn t for her jealously, they could live their lives as princes. More so, one of them could be a king by now.

But she took that from them the moment she sent Oneiroi to share the news about Electra s affair with Zeus with her husband. From that moment, everything went downhill.

Multiple emotions flitted across Heron s face, the most prominent being rage and hurt. And with each passing one, Hera felt more unease and fear coursing through her. But she didn t move. She remained in her place, ready to face the wrath of her husband s bastard.

What she didn t expect was for him to release all of the energy he gathered in his hand, which was pointed at her, shooting directly over her head, but not hitting her.

I forgo revenge, Heron declared and with another blink, his eyes returned to normal. You spoke the truth, Hera.

The silence that fell over everyone after these words were almost deafening. Suddenly, it was interrupted by the sound of sword behind unsheathed and a warrior of the Underworld disappeared in the puff of smoke.

He materialised seconds later, mere inches away from Heron. But the demigod was ready. He barely spared the warrior a glance, before he vaporised him.

Don't mistake my kindness for weakness, he warned. Weak is not how they will remember me. I would rather you remember me for something called forgiveness. Which means I will wipe the slate clean for all those who have wronged me.

During his small speech, Lyra found herself momentarily adrift. Her gaze swept across the gathered.

Soon enough, she spotted Apollo. The god of the sun, though weary, appeared as a beacon amidst the turmoil. 

She made her way to him, their reunion a brief but comforting anchor in the storm of violence surrounding them.

The goddess was unable to describe relief that flooded through her. She knew that her lover tended to be reckless in fights, even serious ones, and with how aggressive and bloody this battle was she was scared that he might ve gotten hit. Luckily, he only seemed to get a couple of cuts and a few bruises.

Together, they watched as the scene continued to evolve, their eyes drawn to the central figures of the drama.

Lyra s attention then shifted to the nymph standing beside Seraphim. The goddess curiosity was piqued, though she had no idea who that nymph was. She had a feeling that the two of them had met before, but she couldn't recall when or how.

Nothing can be undone. But this is how we can move forward. All I ask is that you do as you promised for Seraphim, Heron continued, giving the rulers of the Underworld a pointed look.

Hades and Persephone exchanged a glance, their expressions reflecting a mutual, wordless agreement. Hades vanished in a puff of smoke, reappearing before Seraphim in only seconds later. The god held out a small bottle.

The nymph standing beside Seraphim her identity still a mystery to Lyra offered a small, sad smile. She placed a comforting hand on Seraphim s shoulder before stepping back, her eyes reflecting a sorrowful understanding.

Ares, whose dissatisfaction had been simmering just below the surface, took this opportunity to voice his discontent. He stepped forward, his posture defiant and challenging.

Who are you to decide anything? Bastard, he sneered.

Heron opened his mouth to reply, but before he could even make a sound, Poseidon suddenly whirled on the god of war and stepped in to defend Heron.

Mind your tongue, Ares, the sea god s grip on his trident tightened. Don't be a fool.

The standoff between them threatened to escalate into another fight, but Heron interjected before tempers could fully ignite.

Enough. No more, he said, then turned to Ares. I don't want more conflict, brother. But we cannot allow the world to descend into chaos.

Even though Heron s words were filled with truth and logic, Ares still hated how it was a bastard, not to mention a mortal, who said them. So, even though he agreed with the demigod s words not that he would ever admit that he glared at his younger brother.

But Heron paid him no mind, as he continued. His gaze swept over the gods gathered around, stopping at Lyra first, before at the other gods he mentioned.

The Olympians must return to Olympus, Poseidon to the sea, and Hades to the Underworld, he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As Heron spoke, Hades gaze darkened. The look on his face made Lyra almost sympathetic. The pain and sadness in his eyes, as they found Persephone, and in that moment Lyra understood. The two gods hated the arrangement and wanted a change.

They wished to no longer be separated, but with Hades being bound to Underworld, he refused to doom his wife to the same fate, hence he fought so desperately.

If he became the King, he would no longer be bound to the Underworld and he could change the rules so he wouldn t have to part with his wife for half a year anymore.

Then, Lyra saw a shadow of regret flickering across Hades features and frowned. Something deep inside her stirred in panic, as she knew that whatever would happen in the next few seconds could possibly be fatal.

And she was right. When Heron turned to face the Lord of the Underworld again, the god stepped closer to him.

Forgive me, was all he said.

Then, in a swift, brutal motion, Hades drew a dagger and plunged it into Heron s chest. The attack was almost tender in its execution, as if Hades himself struggled with the betrayal he was committing. He even shed a tear.

Heron s eyes widened in shock and pain, his breath catching as the life drained from him.

The Eleusinian Stone, a symbol of ultimate power, slipped from Heron s grasp, falling to the ground. The demigod swayed on his feet for a second, before he collapsed, his once white tunic now stained red with his own blood, a dagger sticking out of his chest.

The gods and warriors stood frozen, their gazes locked on the tragic figure lying amidst the chaos. 

Ismene was the first to break the silence. Her scream, raw and guttural, tore through the quiet like a blade. They fought and argued constantly, but she grew to care for the annoying demigod, some might even say she grew to love him. He held a special place in her heart, built a special bond with her, one that no one could ever replace.

Lyra was the second to react, her love for Heron, akin to that of a sibling, fuelled her grief and anger. She surged forward, her eyes blazing with a fierce, unrestrained rage. She aimed her anger at Hades, the cause of Heron s suffering.

Apollo, despite his own shock and grief, was swift to act. His grip was firm as he moved to restrain Lyra, his own pain reflected in his face. He had known Heron for a relatively short time, but the bond they had formed was still deep. He whispered softly in her ear, trying to calm her down.

Lyra, however, was beyond reason. Her sorrow had transmuted into an all-consuming fury. She tried to break free from Apollo s hold, her movements frantic and wild. The intensity of her grief seemed to fuel her strength, and despite Apollo s best efforts, she nearly broke free.

In her despair, Lyra s powers began to manifest uncontrollably. She extended her hands, and her body radiated a blinding light that cut through the dim, war-torn landscape.

This was not just any light it was a beacon of hope, casting away shadows and illuminating the area with a warm, comforting glow. But it did nothing to make this situation any better.

She tried her healing, focused on everything inside of her and called forth the power she felt when she healed a wound from Keres. But it was not enough to save Heron from his mortal wound.

No amount of her restoration or warmth could undo the fatal damage inflicted by Hades. Her powers, while powerful and nurturing, were rendered impotent in the face of such a grievous wound.

Lyra s sobs grew louder as her powers flared brighter. Apollo, seeing the futility of Lyra s efforts and the depth of her pain, could only hold her tighter. His eyes, filled with tears, were a mirror to her grief.

Lyra, stop, he pleaded, though his own voice cracked with emotion. He s gone. We can t change what s happened.

This time his words seemed to have some effect on her. the light died down and the goddess slowly quieted down, her cries and fighting reduced to silent tears and numbly standing in her lover s arms.

The moment Heron s life flickered out, the ground beneath them trembled.

No! Gaia s voice boomed, reverberating through the very bones of the Earth.

Her presence was immense, her power palpable. Ground rose and encased Hades, restraining any kind of movement from him. She appeared in the flash of bright green light, similar to how she did back in the arena, during the Games after Zeus death.

Her gaze swept across the assembled gods and warriors, each of them shrinking beneath the weight of her judgement.

None of you deserve this! None of you! the primordial goddess spat. First it was Zeus with all his philandering and disloyalty. And then Hera. You took his wrongdoing to the other extreme. Unleashing death and destruction on your own home.

At the mention of the War she caused, the goddess of marriage looked away in shame, but Gaia paid her no mind, as she moved onto the next god, the one currently holding the Stone.

And now you, Hades, fail again. You cheat and you backstab a noble hero, while those you conspire with poison the world," she continued, glaring at Demeter.

At this, everyone s gaze moved towards the goddess. She didn t look back at any of them, only raised her head higher and glared back at the primordial goddess.

You've brought this upon yourselves. I speak the name no one speaks. And with it, the reign of the Olympians is no more! Gaia announced. Typhon.

The first time she spoke the name, the ground began to shake. The Eleusinian Stone glowed in Hades hand. Warriors and gods gathered around started running, as if running away from the goddess would save them from what s to come.

Lyra had only heard a story about a monster everyone called Bane of Olympus. No one dared to speak its name, most mortals not even knowing about it. That was the story only few had ever heard, even less shared. But the gods did know the name, all too well. It haunted them, filled them with dread and fear.

And basing on Gaia s words and everyone s reactions, Lyra knew that the monster imprisoned hundreds of years ago was about to be unleashed once again. Just like the story warned if the name was spoken three times, the beast would roam the world once more.

And this time, there would be no Zeus to help them defeat it.

Typhon.

As the name was called for the second time, the Stone started to crack and the ground shook even more. Glancing at the gods around, Lyra knew that was it. Everyone were horrified and those who didn t run were frozen in fear.

Typhon!

With the final call of the name, the stone suddenly changed colour to red and cracked. Out of it, shot our red tendrils of magic. They flew high, before disappearing behind the clouds.

The time has come for the Titans to return!