3. The Meadow

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When I woke up, I was dying.

I wasn't sure of it at first, but now the only thing that stood between my organs and the ground was the wall of my blood-soaked hand.

It had actually been quite nice before. I was sitting on large throne, as big as a fireplace, letting relaxation cascade over me. I was unsure of how I got there, but I didn't really mind. Servants ran to my side, offering the finest hors d'oeuvres and aged wines. I waved them off, of course, because I felt the sense that I was too good, and far too used to it.

Surrounding me was the open, golden-lined ballroom where the fanciest guests in all of Olympia had danced for centuries.

And it was all mine. Every inch of the castle was at my disposal—and the best part? I was completely alone.

Finally, all of my years of hard work had paid off. I had made it!

I yawned, putting my hands behind my head as I leaned back. Feeling comfortable, I shut my eyes and try not to drift into sleep.

CLING!

My eyes flutter open as I look around the empty room. A ball, wrapped with gold, rolls to a stop in the middle of the floor. I stare down at it, a feeling of inexplicable dread rushing from my forehead to my toes.

For some reason, I had a feeling that I knew exactly what it contained, and yet, no name or recognition followed: just a sense of impending doom.

I call out for my guards, whom I expect to see at the entrance. Instead, they had vanished. Completely gone without a trace. I look to my sides, to where my servants were just offering small snacks, only to find their absence as well.

Suddenly, being completely alone seemed less appetizing.

I refuse to do anything. I sit, staring, calling out for help but it was like my body became superglued to the throne—I was helpless.

And then, the gold throne shattered into a million shards before dissipating, leaving me with a nice, rosy complexion. I slam into the ground below before defensively snapping my eyes onto the gilded object. It seems to glitch—maximized red, white, black squared pixels replacing the figure at milliseconds before returning to its original stature.

I immediately knew that the orb was responsible for the disappearance of my people—and my throne. But there was nothing I could do.

I felt my stomach twist and instantly went to clutch the source of pain. Then, I felt an unfamiliar sensation. When I pulled my hand back, my fingers were coated in a warm, red liquid. Blood.

My eyes hesitantly trailed down to my torso. I was cut open, blood pouring out in gallons. The orb glistened, as if taunting me.

My eyelids were getting heavy and I couldn't feel my legs. I dug my fingernails into the marble below me, trying to pull my body weight toward the orb. Maybe if I could just grab it, I could stop this.

With every inch I made, the orb rolled slightly further away. This was impossible.

I lay on my back, staring at the painted, gold-trimmed ceiling that began to crack. Pieces began to surge towards the grounds before the whole structure gave way.

I lifted my hands up in defense as my vision went black as I was crushed to death.


The next time I opened my eyes, I felt an odd pressure keeping me against the ground. My vision was blurry, but I could make out a figure standing over me. Shit, did I sleep in? Is Hades here to kick my ass because I didn't clean his shield last night?

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 15 ⏰

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