Blessings from Khaos

|Whatever Souls Are Made Of, His And Mine Are The Same|

Hermês had been getting ready to start his hunt for Leaneíras when Apóllōn called out to him.

There was still anger clinging to his elder brother, a darkness to his beautiful face that bequeath his wrath. Hermês knew without a doubt that his anger poured into his domains, and he could only imagine the consequences that came from it. Complications in healing, a twisted tongue for poetry and song, burning as the sunlight beamed harshly, prophecies that foretold destruction...

His Brother, for all that he was a loving god, was also a jealous god with a wrath that could destroy the world in seconds. He was the god who punished and destroyed the wicked and overbearing, The god that lend a helping hand and give reprieve from the evil of the world. He had the power of visiting men with plagues and epidemics. It shook something within Hermês every time he heard the mortals minimalize the influence that his brother held. He was the most loved god right after their Father. Ζεύς may have been the national god of all the Greeks. The God of the gods. But it was Apóllōn who stood at his side as the national divinity of the Greeks, he who was represented in all the ways which arts were capable of. He who stood next to Father Ζεύς alongside Athênê and composed the Holy Trinity.

Apóllōn was the most Greek of the Greeks.

Hermês approached him, gaze at his brother in wonder, heart entranced with pleasure. Hermês the guide, the mighty giant-killer, stood there, spellbound.

When people looked at him, he was the beacon of light at the end of the tunnel. When he became associated with Hêlios', the words were even more loving. Because to look at him, light as bright as the sun; they only thought good things. He was welcoming and helpful and healing. A symbol that the dark days would not last.

(Unless they saw his wrath. Unless he lived up to his name. He was The Destroyer. He healed just as he plagued. He was too bright; too harsh; too much.)

He was the perfect ideal of youthful manliness. It was no wonder that there were those that had been believed to be the twin brother of Aphrodítē.

"Tater tot," the loving voice of her brother called to him. "Ermis?"

Hermês blinked, shaking his head as he approached his brother. Huákinthos gave him a knowing look, his hair crowned in a mixture of his own flowers and laurel leaves. That was right. They might not speak on it. Dáphnē was their third blessing, and it was the special allowance of Artemis alongside Huákinthos and Apóllōn that she was able to be a Huntress. It was an open secret, but no one would risk the wrath of Ζεύς' favored son to comment on it.

"What is it that you need?"

Apóllōn smiled, waving him forward to look at a pool of water before them.

"Scrying, brother," he playfully mocked as the elder god swipe his hand over the water. Apóllōn laughed lightly, "Oh, hush. It works and you know that I appreciate all forms of divination."

The image in the water swirled to show Drew sitting on the windowsill of her cabin, pouting furiously. Her siblings were all asleep around her.

"Now, watch," Apóllōn murmured. A raven cawed, landing on the windowsill in front of her. It stared at her with its dark eyes.

"You do know that the children associate yours raven with death, right," Hermês mocked. Apóllōn shot him a glare before turning back to the vision pool. Much to Hermês' shock, the raven shook itself and its black plumage faded away to glistened as white as the clouds in the sky (when Father was in a good mood, of course.) Drew startled, blinking in shock before the raven cawed again, expanding its wings in a clear sign to follow.

Drew stared once more before springing into action. She clasped her necklace back around her neck and tiptoed into the closet to change out of her pajamas. She cast a glance around at her siblings before pushing the window open and climbing out.