𝔞𝔪𝔭𝔥𝔦𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 ✩ 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔬𝔡𝔞𝔦𝔯

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CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

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Snowdrops could be found in such a magical position within the concept of nature. For they were of such a persevering quality, in the sense that they managed to force themselves up through the magnitude of the danger which had been coined with the fitting name of which was snow.

Oh, how very deeply did Odelya detest the snow and the immense power of which it held over one's body. Such an inhospitable coldness did it possess and the ability it had to inhibit one's very existence. How could anybody even fathom leaving a state of sanctuary to embark on an expedition through such treacherous wilderness. But poor Odelya had no choice.

So, taking inspiration from the pretty snowdrops, she persisted onwards through the storm filled night. Odelya's lifeline of a note from her beloved sunshine was clutched desperately in her palm and her once damaged leg had been soothed with a delicate touch from the medicine gifted from her ever so generous sponsors.

Imagined did she that Finnick was beside her, holding her delicate hand and whispering words of encouragement and comfort into her frosted ear. Yet all did she have in reminder of him was that precious note that if she were to lose it would be as though she had lost all of her sanity.

Despite all of this imagining which gently soothed her soul and for perhaps the very first time since that darling morning of school of which they met, her beloved Finnick was not her foremost priority.

Such a title solely belong to Apollo and Florence and the darkness which shrouded her vision at the mere possibility of them not being hidden in the uppermost state of health of which could be managed in the arena simply terrified her being.

Oh, was Odelya so immensely close to admitting defeat as the ever aggressive nature of the storm pounded her slowly down to the depths of hell where she belonged. Angels which once ringed their lullabies in her heart had now dissipated as she emerged from the shadows as a cold blooded murderer.

Speaking of such divine blessings, a voice sounded through the wilderness which seemed to terminate any sense of despair which loomed. Harps seemingly played with a sweet melody in the collective joy of the small body which called her name repetitively.

Many moments did it take Odelya to come to the conclusion that the voice of little Florence was not just a figment of her subconscious and that she was truly becoming her over to a gather of trees and a longtime frozen lake.

"Oh, my darling Flower," Odelya mumbled, in a manner of which mirrored her sense of hurry as she made her way over to the sounding voice.

In the deepest thanks to Poseidon, her minds eye had not been playing cruel tricks on her and there in the snow, huddled together under one blanket was Apollo and the holder of the voice worthy of the status of an angel: Florence.

Alive and breathing were they, but Apollo especially seemed to be just barely doing so. Of course, he had given the majority of the blanket to his littlest sister, along with his coat and gloves just to gift her that slight addition of warmth.

"Odelya," Florence squealed, emerging from underage the blanket to embrace the older girl in the tightest of hugs, "I missed you."

"Oh, I missed you too," Odelya smiled, kissing Florence on the head before pulling back and saying, "I brought you sleeping bags."

Only little Florence could possibly have such a raw sense of excitement at the prospect of such an essential item. Just as Odelya extracted it from the depths of her bag, it was ripped from her hands by the young girl and immediately did she scramble back to Apollo's side to show him such a delight.

"That's good, little Flower," Apollo mumbled, "That's really good."

"I've one for each of us," Odelya announced which further fuelled Florence's happiness, but need did she to be reminded of the importance of quietness in such a situation.

"Apollo, darling," Odelya spoke as she walked up and slouched down by the tree next to him, "Are you feeling well?"

"Just brilliant," Apollo murmured, "Not hypothermic or in pain from this stab wound at all."

Having been previously distracted from the overall joy of being reunited with her allies, Odelya hadn't yet noticed the pain concealed underneath that blanket which the two shared. Causing her to freeze more than any sense of cold ever could, she glanced downwards at the piercing hole through Apollo's thermal clothes which Florence had attended to as best she could with the little supplies they had collected at the Cornucopia.

"Oh, Apollo," Odelya gathered any ounce of strength she could muster to speak those words. Reaching down into her bag for the medicine, but inside she knew that something much stronger would be needed to heal something so deeply penetrating in his flesh.

"I'm not going to make it much longer, Odelya," Apollo wasn't a man of little intelligence, "You need to swear to me that you'll look after Florence, she doesn't deserve the death that would be of comfort to us."

Odelya nodded solemnly and aided her brother into his sleeping bag, of which Florence had set up for them. Prayed did she to the ocean deity that Finnick would send a vital necessity down which would rectify Apollo's deathly wound.

Such a wish would never be fulfilled and not was it due to a lack of sponsors.

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Sorry for the short hiatus, I've had a little bit of writer's block. I would really appreciate if you would follow my TikTok @midsummernights_, as there are lots of Amphitrite edits being published.

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