𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬 [t.m. riddle]

CHAPTER TWO: Apollo

       ONE OF THE greatest, and most cherished, of the Olympian gods, ascendancy over: light, the sun, harmony, music, the arts in general, healing and divination, was Apollo. Born on Delos, to Zeus and Leto and twin brother of Artemis, earned him, one of his many, titles: Delian; he who reveals everything.

       Amongst one of the first acts of the youthful Apollo was to explore the harmonious, and civilised, Greek grounds for the most suitable place for his sanctuary. In the foothills of Mount Parnassus, at the place that was supposed to be the navel of the Earth, belonging to Gaia and protected by one of her sons, found Apollo his worship: Delphi. Gaia's son, a huge snake named Python, was killed by the God of Light with his bow and flaming torch which emanated in an eight-year banishment from Delphi.

       Besides having his temple, Apollo also had the Oracle. Fear of the future and of disastrous events awaiting time to come is common to all man- and wizardingkind. For that reason, people endeavour to find a way to foresee the future, and in some way forestall events. In ancient times, oracles were the main way of doing so and were of great importance, consulting them before making any important decisions. Grand decisions comparable to the one Pandora was torn over. Allegedly, she had been shown events from the future. Events that will shudder both the Wizarding, and Muggle, World to its core. Darkness will conquer over all, spreading like an infectious illness as it crawled within the mightiest of witches and wizards. A sense of prestige when the obscurity fulfilled and flowed through the red blood vessels as nothing would be impossible to the vigorous.

       Though, one must not forget about the complication of the process of divination; a prophecy could nearly always be interpreted in two separate ways, often opposing one another as stark differences like day and night.

       Pandora found herself wondering the lonesome streets of Athens whilst humming a soft melody she had picked up as she passed the houses of the city. One of the various houses and apartments that were not set afire, nor raided, as it also housed multiple households in the difficult times of war in the '40s. The song sounded like a new American tune as it had a more bright, and spirited, sound to it compared to the melancholy in Europe.

       With her black, polished Mary Jane's she kicked a pebble several metres ahead every now and then as she sauntered to the Acropolis where several temples stood proud and wondrous against the darkened evening sky. With her hands pushed deep inside the pockets of the cropped, sage cardigan, her mind twirled for the umpteenth time with every alternative possible. It had been several days since the Transfiguration Professor asked for her to transfer to Scotland; away from her old school and attending one solely focused on witchcraft and wizardry, instead of mythology and mageia. But for what? The chances of making a difference seemed slim to nil, even the aged wizard was not too sure of the process. And then there was the prophecy. The dreams. The scarlet eyes that haunted every memory since June of that same year. The whole picture did not seem to fit. It missed details of great importance, information the Professor could provide, but wouldn't. Nevertheless, he took great pleasure in twitting those in need of his answers. His words always seemed to dance around the real definition, never telling the whole truth as one should acquire enough knowledge to work it out on their own.

       Lost in thought, Pandora finally took notice in the collapsed architecture around her as her eyes focussed on her surroundings. She saw she had wandered off to a grimmer part of the ancient city, one should not stroll in near dusk. Buildings that had not survived the raids, rubbish on the sidewalks and hushed figures luring in every dark alley repelled the young witch as she carefully let her eyes examine the location. She detected two dark individuals, near a deli with broken windows, slowly approaching her, hood covering their eyes and each a hand near their waist. Pandora halted and swiftly looked for the nearest exit or escape route as she clutched the wand in her pocket with her right hand, a stance for a quick defence or offence. The figures had stopped as well, mumbling incoherent words towards each other as Pandora narrowed her eyes down at the two. There was a lot off about them: from the way they shielded their identities from her, to their nonchalant manner in which they talked to each other.