Chapitre 12: Fables
Apollo is an absolute legend, the God of Gods. He's got this incredible aura that leaves everyone breathless. With his golden locks and those piercing auric eyes, he's like a divine work of art. And talent? Oh, he's got it all. Music, art, archery, prophecy, order, justice—you name it. Plus, he's courageous and heroic, facing any challenge without flinching. Apollo is perfection given form, the God everyone fanboys over; even I can't resist his charm!
- Hypnos, the God of Sleep.
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And there she stood, Aphrodite, emerging with an irresistible allure. The legends and tales hadn't exaggerated when they spoke of her as the epitome of beauty, every inch crafted to perfection. But compared to Desire, she paled, a feeble candle flickering in the presence of an untamed cosmic inferno. Aphrodite's beauty, though appealing, was tamed, restrained, and lacking the raw intensity that Desire exuded—a supernova hungry to devour everything in its path.
That was Desire.
Apollo realised out-of-the-blue.
"Did I just catch my fellow Olympians flirting with each other?" The voice of Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, oozed with sickly sweetness as her ever-changing eyes darted back and forth between Athena and Apollo.
Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom, shot a piercing glance at Aphrodite but quickly dismissed her, focusing her attention back on Apollo. "I will leave you be then," she nodded promptly, turning away "But meet me after the feast. We've got to talk about your plans and wishes for your palace in Olympus, Apollo."
With that, Athena departed in the same manner she had arrived, but not before giving one final glare in Aphrodite's direction. The Goddess of Love simply shrugged it off and approached Apollo with a charming smile.
"Oh, Apollo!" Aphrodite purred, her voice dripping with seduction as she closed the distance between them. Her every movement exuded allure and charm, drawing her closer to him until their faces were mere inches apart. "What were you doing with that uptight woman?" Her finger gently pressed against his chest, directly over his heart. "Do you truly believe she can ever quench the fiery passion that rages within you?"
Apollo couldn't help but be captivated by the beauty of Aphrodite, yet he remained acutely aware of her marital status, to Hephaestus of all gods. "We were merely engaging in playful banter, Aphrodite," he calmly asserted, stepping back and rebuffing her advances.
A fleeting moment of surprise flitted across Aphrodite's face, her enchanting smile momentarily faltering. It was as if she hadn't anticipated his rejection, yet she swiftly regained her composure and directed a pursed-lip gaze towards him. "I know," she said, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. "I must admit, though," she grumbled begrudgingly, "you and Athena would make an epochal pair." She grabbed a cup of nectar from a passing nymph.
"Oh?" Apollo shot back, his curiosity ignited. "But ain't Athena sworn off men?"
"Her vow means nothing compared to what your sister swore," Aphrodite scoffed, taking a gulp of her wine. "So if you truly go after her, your love story will shake the ages."
"How do you know this?" Apollo arched an eyebrow, sceptical. Her tone was too certain to be a wild guess. "You have some kind of love foresight or what?"
Aphrodite's eyes sparked with amusement. "What do you think?" she countered, neither confirming nor denying his accusation.
"I don't know," Apollo muttered, swirling his glass in his hands and locking eyes with her. "But I sure know why you're so convinced our story will go down in ages."
"Oh?" Aphrodite leaned in, her intrigue piqued. "Do tell."
"A happy tale, though capable of creating legends, lacks the enduring and visceral impact that a tragedy possesses," Apollo muttered quietly.
Picture two powerful deities—not your average, run-of-the-mill divine beings, but the Greek Gods known for their indulgence and infidelity. Against all odds, these Gods find themselves unexpectedly captivated by each other, their love unearthing from the depths of their immortal hearts. Their bond, unbreakable and enduring, withstands the weight of numerous challenges and hardships. But alas, fate intervened, swayed by the intricate dance of circumstances, trepidation, and vulnerability. Inevitably, one God, driven by the complexity of love, betrays the other, piercing the core of their celestial connection.
Apollo's voice carried a raw certainty as he spoke: "In the end, one of us was bound to betray the other."
Such a tale would make the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet seem like a leisurely stroll in the park. It would truly be the fable that would shake the ages, as Aphrodite eloquently expressed. However, despite its potential, both Apollo and Aphrodite were very aware that this would never come to fruition. Nonetheless, he was beginning to comprehend why Aphrodite held such an ardent fascination with stories.
Hearing his final words, Aphrodite froze momentarily, her body motionless, before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. It was a laugh that emanated from the depths of her being, pure and filled with sheer joy. In that moment, she let go of her usual facade of flawlessness and instead reached out, placing her hands on his shoulders and drawing him closer to her. Her voice, raw and sincere, echoed with longing as she asked, "Where have you been all this time, Apollo?"
Apollo was caught off guard by her abrupt transformation, particularly the yearning evident in her voice. It wasn't a romantic or sensual longing, but rather something indescribable and elusive. It was akin to stumbling upon a fellow member of your own species amidst a sea of extraterrestrials.
"Your surprised expression is absolutely enchanting," Aphrodite chuckled. "I'm going to savour every moment as we embark on a journey through the captivating stories of the world."
"Whoa!" Apollo exclaimed as he pulled her hand off his shoulder. "Listen, Aphrodite—"
But before he could finish, Aphrodite grabbed his hand and dragged him into the bustling crowd. "Oh, come on, Apollo," she whispered. "I'll spill all the juicy stories and secrets of Olympus."
Apollo didn't instantly pull his hand away from hers; his curiosity was piqued by what Aphrodite might have to say. There was no denying that there was more to Aphrodite than what met the eye.
Artemis, engrossed in conversation with Eileithyia about their duties, furrowed her brows as she turned towards the commotion. What did she see? Her brother was in the clutches of that seductress. She excused herself and strode towards them, her eyes sharp and piercing.
"Hey, Helios, over there," Aphrodite whispered to Apollo, her voice soft and low, meant only for his ears, as they neared the table filled with food. "Despite his outward appearance, he's actually under the thumb of our king. He's constantly spying for the most beautiful women in our lands, all for the King's benefit..." she scoffed in the end.
Apollo paused, his senses heightened as he absorbed the subtle undertones concealed within her words—the Sun was all-seeing. After a moment of reflection, his smile bloomed, exuding confidence and radiance. "Fables, huh?" he replied, a hint of amusement colouring his voice. "I can't deny they've got their allure..." His words trailed off, his tone now tinged with solemnity: "...and power."
Aphrodite's smile widened in response. "You really do get it, don't you? We're going to create the greatest fable ever, Apollo."
"We'll see," Apollo replied, a chuckle escaping his lips. With that, their unexpected alliance was sealed. Only time would tell if it would withstand the test.
But in that same moment, Apollo caught sight of Artemis making her way towards them, his senses alerting him.
"Your sister's here," Aphrodite chimed in, her eyes darting towards Artemis. She swiftly snatched up plates of ambrosia from the table, holding one for herself and passing another to Apollo.
Apollo nodded at his sister, a plate of ambrosia in his hand, wordlessly assuring her that everything was alright.
Artemis came to an abrupt halt, her teeth digging into her bottom lip, unspoken emotions lingering in the tense air. With a cold, warning glare directed at Aphrodite, she pivoted on her heels and strode off towards Leto, concealed fury seething within her.
"Artemis sure is feisty, isn't she?" Aphrodite remarked amusingly.
Apollo turned to her, his golden eyes bright and blazing. "Watch your words, Aphrodite," he remained kindly, "she is my sister."
Aphrodite couldn't help but smirk at the subtle hint of a threat in his tone. "You sure are an enigma, Apollo," she declared offhandedly.
Apollo's eyebrow raised in response. It wasn't the first time he had heard those words, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. Ignoring the repetitive remark, he chose not to dignify it with a response. Truth be told, he didn't consider himself all that enigmatic, despite what others seemed to think.
In an instant, a shift in energy caught his attention, causing his senses to sharpen. He turned his gaze towards the entrance of Olympus. The immortals, adorned in their extravagant chariots, continued to make their regal entrance.
Aphrodite, curious as ever, followed Apollo's gaze. Her voice carried a tinge of curiosity as she questioned, "Who has captured your attention?"
"Just a few Gods I personally extended an invitation to," Apollo casually replied, his eyes fixed on the gate. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a delicate tendril of his divine essence towards the magnificent entrance, eager to welcome his chosen guests.
"Who are the lucky ones?" Aphrodite pressed.
"You know it when they make an appearance." Apollo shrugged.
"Mysteries, as always," Aphrodite remarked casually, her voice carrying a hint of intrigue. "But enough about that. Come on," she beckoned him forward, guiding him through the bustling crowds that filled the vibrant hall of Olympus. They moved gracefully, each holding a plate in their hands, their conversation flowing incessantly.
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Apollo's essence solidified, taking on a tangible form as he gracefully descended from the heavens. His landing was gentle, near Iris, the divine messenger of the Gods. He rested his hand on her shoulders and nodded, conveying his intentions without a word.
Iris nodded and moved to greet the other arriving guests, leaving him to welcome the dark group emerging from the fearsome chariot that glimmered with specks of light, resembling stars in the veil of night.
Amidst the gawking gazes of those present at the gates of Olympus, Apollo stepped forward and extended his greetings to the group, focusing particularly on the divine woman who led them. "Ah, Nemesis," he said, a warm smile on his face. "I'm glad you could make it."
"The pleasure is mine, Apollo," Nemesis replied, returning his smile. Then she waved her hand towards the rest of the group behind her. "I hope you don't mind, but I've also brought some of my family. They wouldn't let me go unless I brought them, especially Hypnos, who wouldn't stop prais—"
"Nemesis!" A languid and pale man with small wings sprouting from his ears blurted out, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. His discomfort only intensified as Apollo focused his attention on him. Nevertheless, he mustered up the courage to step forward and captured his hand, shaking it with enthusiasm. "Hello, I'm Hypnos, the God of Sleep! No need for introductions, Apollo. I already know who you are. You were incredible in that showdown against Python, especially when you summoned forth my useless sister to deal with the wrath of my aunt! You were simply marvell—ow!"
Nemesis pinched Hypnos' ears, pulling him back into the midst of their group. With an apologetic nod, she reassured him, "Don't mind him, Apollo."
Apollo offered a knowing smile, his demeanour unruffled. "It's nothing," he replied, his voice laced with understanding. "In fact, it is an honour to be able to host the esteemed family of Night."
"The honour is all ours, Apollo," spoke a woman with flowing black hair, her features both captivating and mysterious. Her smile held a haunting allure as she gazed upon the grand and audacious palaces of Olympus. "This place is so much better than our home," she marvelled, her eyes shimmering with the pure essence of chaos.
Apollo couldn't help but doubt her claim, thinking to himself, 'I highly doubt that, but I understand the sentiment. This woman must be the one who sparked one of the greatest wars of ancient times.'
"Eris," a brooding man interjected, his voice tinged with admonishment as he comforted Hypnos. "Remember what Mother said."
Eris couldn't help but roll her eyes, a display of her impatience. "Fine," she grumbled, her words reluctantly escaping her lips. She redirected her attention towards Apollo, her gaze intensifying. "By the way, I am Eris," she announced, her voice carrying an unmistakable air of darkness. "The Goddess of Discord and Strife."
Apollo nodded in acknowledgement, his wariness growing in the presence of this dangerous woman. There was something primal and raw about her aura, as if she were intimately connected to the very essence of chaos. Noticing this, he realised that even Nemesis and the other children of Night emitted a similar aura. Could it be a benefit of being a primordial's offspring?
Out of courtesy, Apollo turned to the dark and brooding man, his suspicions already forming a good guess. "And you are?" he inquired politely.
"Thanatos," the God of Death replied simply, his tone carrying a weight that matched his title.
"Alright, then." Apollo nodded. "Come along. I'll lead you to the banquet hall."
"Can you give us a quick tour around, Apollo?" Hypnos asked, his enthusiasm palpable. They stepped through the magnificent golden gate of Olympus, joining the ranks of other arriving immortals who maintained a respectful distance from their group. Even the presence of Apollo wasn't enough to draw them near and offer greetings.
Eris, her observant nature catching onto this situation with a barely perceptible frown, turned to Apollo, intrigued by her brother's question.
"Idiot, have you forgotten?" Nemesis chided, her tone laced with annoyance. "Apollo has only just ascended to Olympus."
"You're the idiot," Hypnos retorted. "I'm sure Apollo already knows Olympus like the back of his hand." He locked eyes with Apollo, his gaze shimmering like a sky full of stars—quite literally.
Apollo felt a touch of pressure under the starry scrutiny of Hypnos, who was undeniably his ardent fan. Is this what it feels like to be a celebrity? He mused inwardly. "Well, I could give you a quick introduction as we make our way to the banquet hall."
"Thank you!" Hypnos beamed, his wide grin revealing his pearly-white teeth. He couldn't resist adding a playful jab: "Take that, Nemesis!" He directed a playful glare towards the Goddess of Vengeance, who simply rolled her eyes and shrugged in response.
'For the God of Sleep, he sure is lively,' Apollo thought to himself. Taking charge, he provided a concise introduction, leading the children of the Night towards the banquet hall. Hypnos and Eris bombarded Apollo with a flurry of questions, their genuine curiosity about Olympus shining through. Apollo, with his near-clairvoyance, possessed an abundance of knowledge, and he answered each inquiry with ease. Nemesis interjected with occasional inquiries, while Thanatos maintained a contemplative silence, attentively absorbing his words.
Like that, amdsit questions and answers, they arrived at the end of their path, ascending the stairs to the main palace of the gods. As expected, someone had to interpret their arrival. Emerging from a swirl of dark shadows, Hades materialised, his presence commanding and brooding. Hypnos and Eris shivered in his dark presence, tugging closer to Thanatos.
"Thanatos," the God of the Dead, fixed a piercing gaze on his assistant. "What brings you here?" he demanded, his voice carrying an air of sternness.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone