Apollo and Hyacinthus

The Hyacinth

Flowers bloomed from where his blood hit the grass as Hyacinthus lay dying there in Apollo's arms. The god's eyes were wide and filled with tears as he did anything to keep the young prince alive. The west wind whistled as it pasted by, almost like it was mocking him, saying 'Now you've lost him too'

The sun stoped rising, as Apollo put all of his strength, energy, and focus into one thing, keeping Hyacinthus alive. Even his sister couldn't get him to rise the sun. Eventually she stopped trying.

The only plants that grew were the hyacinth, which started to cover the field where they both lay, Apollo holding his lover close to his chest. There was no sound in the field except for the god of music's violent sobbing.

Eventually, songs and music stopped too. The once beautiful songs turned scratchy and dull, the most amazing voices croaked. There were cries throughout the world as musicians fumbled with thier instruments.

There were no more prophesies, Apollo no longer spoke them.

Truth was a figment of the imagination, Justice had nearly disappeared but for a few who tried to remember it, they all knew that would fail.

Arrows were one of the only things that changed very little, his sister made sure of that. Still, less arrows hit thier mark.

It had been three days, and Hyacinthus had stopped moving. Apollo had given up hope of saving him. With one last try he pushed as much healing energy he could into his dying lover.

Hyacinthus gasped and began shaking, as if in the cold and not against the god of the sun. The wind became cold in the dark day, almost trying to freeze the now awake prince. 

Maybe sensing this, the god stood and carried him to a chariot that shined in the darkness and seemed to radiate heat. He placed his lover inside it and he finally began to drive his sun chariot, letting daylight enter the world once again.

Slowly, as he was crossing the sky, music began to return, then truth and justice. Finally, the god began to speak prophecies to his followers again.

As it became dark and the chariot had reached the horizon, Apollo took Hyacinthus to Olympus, planning to make him immortal.

Zeus was hesatant at first, but, realizing their love for each other, agreed, as long as they were married. 

That next day as Hyacinths dotted the rolling landscape and the west wind flowed cold across the land, the sun shone the brighter than ever.