our story begins long ago, in the heart of the ancient lands.
the pages of creation long since had been scribed, and this was far from the first breath of the ages. many a time had a god loved a mortal, and many a time had tragedy struck divine romance when it was shared with the beating heart of the world below.
yet never had a god endeavoured to love delane. for when one did, the disaster went quiet.
perhaps delane was no different from the others. perhaps she got lucky. or perhaps she struck this particular god with something other than beauty and the excitement of a passionate flame. perhaps she fit perfectly against him; perhaps her skin read like poetry, and her mind a delicate array of notes and melodies. perhaps she was kind, soft and humble, a perfect opposite yet so sweetly complementary.
perhaps apollo had truly met his match.
regardless of the perhaps, delane and apollo were destined to cross paths; the fates had decreed it. and upon suffering such hardship in his love, apollo wanted peace. peace and eternal love.
'twas a tragic shame that the sky chose storm.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THE SUN BEAT DOWN ON Delane, relentless as she made her way through the long grass that lined the hills of Ancient Greece.
Aeolia had been her home once. Now here she was; pregnant and alone, trudging through the outskirts, staring at the dulling brightness in the sky and praying to her lover. She had never wished this, like many mortal princesses before her whom had fallen victim to the ravenous eye of an immortal. She had sworn to do as her father desired, to grow up and marry a king, to please him and aid his alliances.
Marriage was an economic proposition, after all, no matter how the poets tried to paint it otherwise through sweet literature and words of affectionate melody. Delane knew that love could truly be beautiful, but she had long since accepted her fate as a pawn in her father's ruling success. She only prayed that the eventual king would be somewhat hygienic, and perhaps kind or handsome.
Now here she was, exhausted and despairing as she felt her body slipping from her control. A few more hundred agonizing steps and she had collapsed about two thirds of the way upside the hill. She sprawled in the grass as the sun set, weak and unable to return to her feet as the two babies in her womb made clear their yearning for release.
She prayed desperately once more, closing her eyes and pouring her defeat into her words as she whispered into the slowing winds of the warm summer evening.
"Please, Apollo. " She was sure it was hopeless now, the deep orange bleeding into darker blues as she gazed at the sky. "The children. I am too weak, but you must save them. It is all I could ever ask of you. Let them live."
