Poseidon and Psyche traveled for miles by foot. The mileage had always been an intrinsic part of Poseidon's nomadic lifestyle, but it was quite new and uncomfortable to Psyche. The delicate girl asked to pause on several occasions. Each time Poseidon felt his perspiration increase exponentially. Every time they slowed Hera could get closer. She was not a woman who lost her prizes so easily, and as far as Poseidon was concerned in a sick way both he and Psyche were a prize to the vile wench.
"I am sorry," Psyche moaned as she massaged her feet careful to avoid the blisters that formed around the leather straps. "Palace life has ruined me!"
Poseidon smiled in a grand but failing gesture of reassurance, "You have your own strengths."
"Apparently walking is not one of them!" She cried out in frustration as one of the blisters popped, "I thought I could ruff it but I was clearly lying to myself."
The defeat in her voice broke Poseidon's heart. He knew what it was to feel weak. "Want me to carry you?"
"Absolutely not!" She shrieked and then blushed, "I mean its not you, it's just," she trailed off trying to find the right word.
"I get it," He answered sympathetically. His ears twitched as he heard a distinct sound in the distance, "We should go that way." He pointed in the direction of the rhythmic thuds and clanking that would be their salvation; the noise carried across vast distances to his overly sensitive ears. The sound was something Hera would avoid like the plague, it belonged to a people toiling. A race so disfigured by their craft that some thought of them as monsters. Hera did not associate with the common man, especially not the ugly ones. It would be their best safe haven.
"What's that way?" she asked with desperate curiosity, "is your friend's base that way?"
"No," He answered in a somber voice. If he had calculated correctly they were a least a weeks journey away, at this pace possibly two weeks, if they made it at all. "It is a place that will have hot food and possibly a warm bed," and she will know we are missing by now. Poseidon had many tricks up his sleeve and this may be his best yet.
"That sounds magical!" Psyche spoke with revitalized fervor.
"Indeed," and she won't be there. Though the concept of psyche meeting the enormous and homely race of blacksmiths he had grown to love had his heart racing; How could this pulchritudinous girl raised in splendor understand or accept them?
He grabbed Psyche's hand and aided her movements in as much deliberate subtlety as he could. Poseidon understood the emotion that she could not put into words. She hated being vulnerable, he touched his throat. He understood on a level and plain he hoped she would never know, not as long as I can help it, I will not be the one to ruin her pride. That is Hera's thing.
They breached the forest and found themselves on a pristine beach. Poseidon narrowed his eyes and moved to the waves that reached higher and higher onto the sandy shore.
"I thought you said there was a village here." He chuckled at her befuddled expression. Her hands were on her hips and her head swiveled back and forth looking for something invisible.
So did I, Poseidon couldn't answer her. He still felt the vibrations of civilization. He could feel their movements. As expected their movements were much slower and heavier than most humans which meant, please be who I think you are.
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The S.S. OlympusScience Fiction
⚔️wattpad featured story--1st place for science fiction in multiple awards. 🛸 Cornelia's eyes burned with the liquefied salt of her shattered soul; her feet pounded against the rough terrain of the untamed forest. The straps of her sandals flappin...