Sometimes I wonder if my rage is irrational. I have spent my entire life consumed by it, by emotions that have never quite belonged to me, by searching the world for something that was never mine, by seeking revenge for wrongs committed against part of me that existed millennia ago.
I thought once these questions were answered, I would find peace. I was wrong. If anything, I have become even more determined to right the past, to get vengeance for the sins against me that were never able to reach absolution, to cleanse the ledger in blood.
I thought I'd try harder to make my peace with my father once I met him, but after I saw his face, my hatred only grew tenfold. I realize now I do not owe him peace. I don't want it, nor do I need it either, not from him. The god-king wants me to be his prize, his prophetic child who is meant to be a continuation of the greatest hero of old. I am meant to worship at his feet and praise the Fates for giving me the fortune of being born to the highest of the gods.
But when have I ever done what I was told?
Zeus has gotten everything he has wanted for far too long.
Perhaps I will find peace within the chaos, just as every hurricane has an eye. That is Cassius. He is my voice of reason, I'm finding. After all, wasn't that what Patroclus was to Achilles, and Hephaestion to Alexander? Both were hot-headed, reckless, dangerous, forces of nature on their own that could destroy everything in their paths if they so wished. But the other calmed them, gave them peace when none was to be found anywhere else.
What a legacy, I think fondly, kicking my feet in the water and splashing lightly. The naiads swimming under the surface smile a little at the sight of me. I'm discovering that they like me. Cassius once said it's because Achilles' mother, Thetis, was a Nereid. I think it's just because I'm likable.
He's probably right, though.
I think back to earlier in the day. I still have a sinking feeling in my stomach about going to Troy with Apollo. I cannot and will not trust him, not around me, but especially not around Cassius. Yes, he's a far better fighter than I am, but I can't help how protective I am of him.
I don't like any part of this.
I consider my options for a moment. I don't have many. I don't have any, actually. I know I don't know much about this whole 'Greek-demigod-creatures-of-legend' thing, but I've heard enough stories to know that trying to avoid fate is a pretty bad idea. It would probably end with me or Cassius getting killed in some terribly gruesome way, or both of us getting killed.
So, yeah, no avoiding fate for us. Not if we want any chance of surviving.
I stare down at the water, and as the seconds pass, I see the waves blur into dust. The dust builds into a temple, overlooking a port city and cerulean waves. Sunlight streams into the central chamber of the temple, and there is a massive cult image of who can only be Athena. What draws the eye, though, is what she holds: a bronze-headed spear, glittering in the sun. I feel drawn to it, as if it is somehow mine.
I blink, suddenly snapping free from the spell of the vision when a naiad splashes me. She giggles and waves before swimming off, and I sigh. It seems like every time I have a moment of my past, or one of my ancestors' pasts, within reach, it's taken away from me. What's the point of being a seer if I'm never allowed to truly see anything?
All it does is fuel my growing rage, I think bitterly.
Is fate really so kind if it forces us to live in these paradoxes? It gave Cassius and I this chance, but it stole Patroclus from Achilles to make it happen. Are Alexander and Hephaestion together, then, in the afterlife? Probably not, if we are indeed the third iteration.
The quest hasn't even begun, and I'm already starting to see through the illusions. Maybe that's why Apollo made me a seer. Not so much to see visions, even though that happens, but to see the strings of fate.
Wouldn't that be nice, if it were true?
"You're figuring it out."
At the sound of his voice, I grimace and nervously run my thumb over the face of my ring.
"Go away," I say coldly, uninterested in speaking with him.
"No," Apollo says stubbornly, marching over to my side and sitting down. I can feel Achilles start to get ticked. "Like it or not, I did choose you to be a seer."
"Not."
"What?"
"You said 'like it or not.' I choose 'not.'"
He sighs dramatically. "You're going to have to at least learn to be civil. We can be bitter co-workers if that's what you want."
I roll my eyes. "I want nothing to do with you, ever. I didn't ask for you to be part of this prophecy, and I certainly didn't ask to be a seer. My life would be significantly better if I wasn't one, actually."
Apollo shrugs and pushes back his hair. He leans back on the pier. "Yes, well, there's nothing I can do about that, I'm afraid."
"I know." I glance at him. "Why did you come out here?"
"You looked like you were in a trance. I assumed you were having a vision, and I was curious what it was about," he says honestly, rocking back and forth on his feet. He looks at me expectantly, and I just stare at him. "This is when you tell me..."
I don't tell him.
"...what the vision was about..."
"Do I have to?" I sigh, and he gives me a look. He nods.
"Yes, you have to."
Actually, Achilles says matter-of-factly, no, you do not.
"Achilles says I don't," I point out, purposefully trying to be difficult now. I'm really just doing it for the sake of amusing myself at this point. Apollo groans and facepalms.
"Okay, fine, what do you want? I'll give you whatever you want if you just tell me!" he tries to bargain, obviously desperate. That piques my interest. I raise my eyebrows.
"Anything?" I ask curiously, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. He nods eagerly.
"Anything! Yes!" He claps excitedly. "Just tell me!"
"Uh-uh," I tut, smirking. Who would have thought I'd be hustling a god today? "Gift first."
"Fine. But you have to swear on the Styx that you'll tell me!" he demands. I nod solemnly.
Hey, I won't swear that it was an interesting vision. Because it really wasn't. Or particularly helpful, really. But I'll tell him.
"Alright," I nod. "For my part, though, I want," I pause, thinking. What does one ask a god for, when you can ask for literally anything at all? A hundred dollars? No, no, that's stupid. That's not nearly enough money. My eyes widen with delight as I snap my fingers, the perfect idea coming to mind. "A credit card that can't be hacked or stolen, with an infinite amount of money on it! Never-ending money that I can use anywhere in the world, for the rest of my life."
Ooh, good one! Achilles praises me. I smirk, very proud of myself.
His jaw drops. Apollo stares at me a moment. "You're a smart little thing, aren't you?"
"Yeah, pretty much," I snicker. "Now, come on. Chop-chop." He gestures randomly. "Oh. Right. I swear on the River Styx I'll tell you about the vision I had after you give me what I asked for."
He nods, satisfied. He snaps his fingers, and a crisp gold card appears in his hand. He passes it to me, and I look down at it in interest. My name is on it in embossed lettering, and the company name is listed as Olympus Holdings. The expiration date is literally an infinity sign, which I find interesting.
"Thank you," I smile politely, and Achilles grumbles at my manners. Apollo smiles, though.
"You're welcome," he replies. He sits down across from me. "Story time."
I think for a moment, recalling the details of the vision. "Alright. Well, it wasn't a very long vision. Or particularly interesting. But I'll tell you everything in case you can make sense of it." Apollo nods. "Well, it started off all dusty, right? And the dust turned into a temple that looked like it was located in a port city. Well, in the cliffs over a port city, maybe? I couldn't quite tell, but that's maybe what it was. But there was definitely a temple and a port involved somew-"
"Audra," he interrupts me, and I give him a look.
"What?" I ask. "I'm telling you, so let me finish." He mutters something in Greek but lets me continue. "Then, I was inside the temple. I was in the center chamber, whatever that's called, and-"
"The cella," he supplies. I groan.
"Stop it!" I scold him. He raises his arms in defense.
"I was just telling you what it's called," he says innocently. "I'm being a good mentor and educating you."
"You are not my mentor," I snap, glaring at him. He gapes at me, affronted.
"Then what am I?" he demands.
"Annoying, that's what! Now let me finish," I demand. He grumbles, crossing his arms as he pouts. But he shuts up and lets me talk.
"Anyway," I say, giving him a pointed look, "sunlight was streaming into the chamber-"
"Cella," he coughs.
I roll my eyes. "Fine. Cella. And inside the cella was this, like, massive statue, right? And I'm assuming it was of Athena, because it was pretty obvious it was her." He nods, hanging onto everything I'm saying. For once. "But what was interesting was the fact that she was holding this spear."
"Wait, what?" Apollo demands, his eyes widening. "A spear? Was it bronze?" Frowning, I nod. How did he know that? "And you said this was in a port city?"
"Yeah, I'm shocked you remembered. Since you kept interrupting me," I say, narrowing my eyes at him. He rolls his eyes.
"Yes, well, I know exactly where you're talking about, and I know why it was shown to you," he says confidently. "And I assure you, it is indeed very interesting, despite what you might think."
I tilt my head. He doesn't elaborate. "Well, go on then. Share with the class."
"It was the temple of Athena on the acropolis of Phaselis," Apollo informs me. The name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. I frown, clueless as to where that is. He groans. "It was in Lycia, so, um," he thinks, gesturing vaguely, which is something he seems to like to do a lot, "like, southern Turkey, I guess? But this city was a port on the Pamphylian Gulf."
Great, another word I can't pronounce.
"Okay, cool. Fantastic. So, what about the spear?" I ask curiously, getting to the important question. "Because I felt super interested in that. Kind of like it belonged to me, almost."
He snorts. I recoil. I didn't think gods snorted.
"Uh, you should," he snickers. I frown at his tone. Well, that's not very nice. But I guess I'm being a bit of a hypocrite if I scold him on that, huh? "It pretty much is yours."
Wait- what?
"How so?" I push. "And how do I get it back, if it's mine? Because I want it. The more cool weapons I can get, the better."
He laughs then. He points at me. "And that right there, is how you can tell you're Zeus' kid. It's written all over your face." I glare at him sharply. If looks could kill... "Alright, alright. Moving on. So, it was rumored for centuries that it was the spear of Achilles. Alexander even went there to see it, too."
"Interesting," I muse. "So...where is it now? Who do I have to fight to get it?"
He rolls his eyes for what feels like the thousandth time. "You can't just go fighting people."
"Um, my fox-skin kind of says that I can," I reason, smirking. "And, really, it says that I'm pretty darn good at it, too."
"You're sounding alarmingly like Achilles."
That is a compliment, surely. It better be, Achilles threatens. I glare at Apollo. Also, for what feels like the thousandth time.
"That better be a compliment," I threaten him. I don't know what kind of threat I'm making, exactly, but it's a threat.
I guess maybe I'm threatening that Achilles will possess me again? Sure, why not?
That is a remarkable plan, Achilles compliments, but I honestly don't know if he's being sarcastic or not. Gods, now I have to deal with both him and a ghost. Typically, Achilles is delightful, but if he starts getting sassy, I'm going to have to find some way to evict him. Excuse me! You cannot 'evict' me! I am quite literally part of your soul!
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I grumble. "I know you are. I wasn't being serious anyway. I won't try to evict you."
"What the hell?" Apollo asks, staring at me like I've grown three heads. I groan.
"No, not you. Achilles," I clarify.
"You were...threatening...to...evict...him?" he asks slowly. I nod.
"Yes."
"Um, why?"
"Well-"
"Can you even do that?"
"I don't think-"
"How do you even get away with making blasé threats to Achilles, of all people? Anyone else, and he would probably possess you and try to strangle them. But I guess he can't really possess you to strangle, well, you, can he? Well, he could, I suppose, but it probably wouldn't be very effective."
I throw my hands up at his rapid-fire questions and rambling. "If you're going to just keep interrupting me, then I'm not going to bother answering you at all! I'm just going to take my credit card and leave!"
Apollo shrinks back slightly. "Right, right, sorry."
I fold my arms over my chest. "Now, back to the spear that I will certainly fight someone for if I must in order to get it back." He opens his mouth to protest, then he thinks better of it and shuts his mouth. I nod in satisfaction. "Do you suppose we might come across it on the quest?"
He shrugs. "It's been lost for a long-ass time, to be blunt. But, to be fair, so has Achilles. The last time this prophecy could have had a chance of happening was with Alexander and Hephaestion, and it didn't. The Fates didn't choose them; the Fates chose you. So, yeah, if the spear is going to pop up ever again, it's going to be now." He picks at his nail. "Honestly, it's probably in the tomb, if I had to guess. Or maybe not. Maybe it found its way back to a temple of Athena somewhere and is being guarded."
"That..." I sigh, shaking my head, "isn't overly helpful. I mean, it kind of is. But not very."
Apollo rolls his eyes. Again. Oh my gods, cut it out, I think, getting genuinely irritated by the habit.
"Well, you asked my opinion. That's my opinion," he states. "But I really do think that, if we get close to it, you'll know. You'll be able to feel it."
Alexander felt it call to him, and so shall you.
"Thank you!" I exclaim. Finally! Something useful and reassuring!
"You're welcome!" Apollo beams.
"No, not you. Achilles," I say. He frowns.
"What did he say?"
"That Alexander felt it call to him, so I will too," I answer. "It was finally a reassuring piece of information."
Apollo gasps, insulted. "He literally just told you what I told you! Pretty much."
"He did not! He said it way more wisely than you did!" I defend my ancestor. I can hear Achilles hum in my head, clearly satisfied. Apollo frowns. I scoff. "Fine. Thank you."
"That's a pretty half-assed thank you."
"Okay, yeah, kind of. But I actually am mildly grateful for all of this new information," I say truthfully.
"Mildly?" he cries, insulted.
"Baby steps, Apollo. Baby steps."
"You would have been lost without me! So, so lost!"
"I probably would have figured it out on my own," I say with only a tinge of doubtfulness. But, honestly, Cas is smart. He can research stuff decently, I'd imagine. He'd figure it out in no time.
Yeah, let's go with that.
"Mhm, sure," Apollo scoffs. He sighs dramatically. "I guess I should just be grateful we've had this long of a conversation without you trying to smite me."
I nod. "Yes. You really should be."
"And I probably should apologize for the whole, y'know, Trojan War thing."
"Yeah, that."
He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "I was in a bit of a phase at the moment. Kind of a teenage rebellion, if you will."
I am not impressed, and my face shows it. "So, what? You just decided to wreak havoc and ruin the most beautiful love story of all time?"
He grimaces. He avoids looking in my eyes.
"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds really bad," Apollo says sheepishly. I look at him incredulously.
"Because it is really bad!"
My gods, Achilles gasps, he really is a complete and utter idiot.
"Well, yes, it is. And I apologize, for whatever my apology is worth to you."
Quite frankly, not very much, Achilles mutters bitterly.
Yeah, buddy, to you and me both, I think irritatedly.
But for the sake of, honestly and perhaps a bit darkly, manipulation, I decide to accept the olive branch he has extended. It isn't every day you can slip a god into your back pocket. Who knows what opportunities this might bring? I am owed this, after everything he has done to Achilles and Patroclus. He does not deserve the mercy of security. He deserves the false sense of peace.
"I can't say I forgive you," I say truthfully, "because what you did isn't for me to forgive." I can practically feel Achilles nodding emphatically. Apollo's face drops momentarily, until I continue speaking. "But, I can say that I will stop threatening to smite you. And I'll stop threatening you in general, probably. So long as you don't do anything stupid like harm Cassius the way you harmed Patroclus, of course." I don't, however, promise that I won't just suddenly smite him- just that I'll stop threatening it. Ah, loopholes. His face lights up. "Do we have a deal?"
He practically jumps forward to hug me, but I push him off of me with surprisingly little effort. I have no doubt Achilles had a role to play in that.
"Nope! No hugs! None at all," I scold him. He nods.
"Yep, yeah, totally get it!" he says quickly, backing off. He beams. "But yes, deal! Fantastic news, really! Your soulmate is not going to be harmed by me in any way whatsoever, you have my word!"
Yes, because that is so valuable, Achilles scoffs.
"You're telling me," I mutter under my breath. To Apollo, I nod. "Okay, great. Um. I'll tell Cas, I guess."
"Lovely! This looks like the start of a wonderful friendship between us, little prophet," he smiles happily. "You, me, and Cas."
"Just a warning, if you call him Cas, he'll probably try to break your neck, and that's saying something, since he's supposed to be the even-tempered one."
"Right. I won't be doing that, then."
"Good call."
I stand up and start to head back to the main area of camp, eager to tell Cas about everything that just happened. I'm in it for the long haul now. I'm not stupid; I know demigods are merely pawns in the gods' game of chess. So why not change the rules a little? Why not be more than just what they want me to be? I've never done what I was told, anyway.
Let the games begin.