Glory Of Gods

Gaiana's POV

The Winter Solstice had arrived in full force, the cold air biting at my skin as I stood on the sidewalk, staring at the stack of boxes I'd somehow managed to accumulate. There were too many—too many for one person to carry—but there I was, on the edge of yet another move, the day dragging on, reminding me how much I hated the process. Especially this one since moving today meant I had to miss the Winter Solstice Festival.

Packing was a chore, but not the worst. The worst part was always trying to stay under the radar in the mortal world. I was constantly aware of the things that made me different. The garland in my hair wasn't just decorative, and the glove on my hand wasn't just a fashion choice—it kept me hidden. Mortal. Unremarkable. Ordinary. Or at least, that's what I hoped to convey.

But the whole thing felt like an act. Being a god among mortals was a delicate balancing act, and I hated how easily my world could slip out of control.

I reached up to grab one of the boxes on top of my large pile, feeling the sharp edge of it digging into my palms. A quick tug and—thud.

It fell.

I barely had time to react, my glove snagged on the corner of another box, sending it teetering dangerously. The box wobbled, nearly toppling straight onto my head.

Before I could even react, a deep voice interrupted the air, thick with amusement.

"You should be more careful with your boxes."

I barely had time to glance up before I saw someone swoop in. He was tall—too tall, obviously taller than me, I'm 5'3—with dark eyes glinting beneath what seemed like sunlight caught in his hair.

Before I could even finish processing, he had caught the box with one fluid motion, keeping it from crashing straight into my head.

"Thanks," I muttered, blinking in surprise as he set it back down gently, his fingers brushing mine for a moment. There was a strange vibration when our hands made contact, a spark I couldn't quite place.

"No problem," he replied, his voice light but not without a hint of something else. Sincerity, maybe? Or just some kind of self-assurance? He flashed me a grin, though it was only half-formed, like he wasn't sure what he was doing, or what was going on either. "You're lucky I'm around. Those boxes seem intent on murdering you."

I couldn't help but laugh, though it felt a little forced. "Yeah, they do seem to hold a vendetta against me, don't they?"

His smirk deepened as he watched me, and for a moment, it was as if the world around us slowed down. Something about his gaze felt strangely familiar, but I brushed it off. I hadn't seen him around before. I didn't know him.

"I could help you with those, if you want," he said, lifting another box effortlessly. His hands moved with a kind of grace that seemed a little too polished for someone who claimed to be just a random passerby.

I glanced at him, unsure. "I think I've got it," I replied. My voice was defensive, though I didn't mean it to be. I was used to handling things on my own. I didn't need anyone else stepping in to complicate it.

He tilted his head. "Well, I'm right here," he teased. "And I'm pretty sure I could lift half of these without breaking a sweat."

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the soft smile threatening to form. There was something unexpectedly charming about him, though I couldn't place it. It was almost like he was too comfortable around me, as if we had known each other far longer than the few seconds we'd just spent in each other's company.

"Fine," I said, giving in. "I could use the help. Just try not to knock anything over."

"Deal, and I'm sure I couldn't possibly do a worse job than you, seeing as you just did exactly that." he said, his slight chuckling shaking his voice a bit. There was something about it that made me pause—something that tugged at my memory. But I pushed it away. He was probably just another odd job guy—one of those helpful but forgettable people you bumped into occasionally.

I reached up to grab the next box, but as I stretched, the glove on my hand snagged on another, sending it teetering dangerously. Before I could pull back, it was already tipping toward me, threatening to land directly on my head.

"Woah, careful!" The voice rang out, and in the next instant, he was there—arms outstretched, catching the box just inches above my head.

I blinked, looking up at him, the box held effortlessly above me. "You really need to stop saving me," I said, trying to hide the flush creeping up my neck.

He chuckled lightly, setting the box down carefully. "I told you those boxes were after you. You don't seem very lucky today."

I frowned, straightening up as I took a breath. But as I did, my garland shifted slightly. My hand instinctively reached up to adjust it, but as I did, my godamn gloves again. The effect was almost instant—the glow of my hair faded, and my eyes...

Changed.

I froze.

No. No, no, no. This wasn't supposed to happen. My hair, usually hidden beneath the garland's magic, now exposed, shimmered with its original golden hue while retaining some of its ginger color, and my eyes—which had been hidden behind the spell— were now a glowy shade of greyish green and my hair,—halfway between the changed and the original.

I quickly tucked the garland back into place, my heart racing as I tried to hide the sudden change. But even though I had only glimpsed it for a moment, I could feel the weight of the situation. If he saw this... If he noticed...

But when I looked at him, his gaze was focused elsewhere. He hadn't seen.

Not yet.

I steadied myself, pulling my hair back into place as I said, "I guess I should be more careful next time."

"Seriously," he said, voice rich with laughter, "I think I might be your new bodyguard."

After that he didn't comment again on the fact that I'd almost been knocked out by a box. Instead, he reached for another and began carrying it inside with ease. "No problem though, you'll get the hang of it , eventually," he said, shrugging nonchalantly, like it was no big deal.

I stood there, my hand still on the garland, trying to calm myself. The last thing I needed was for someone to realize what I really was.

As we moved inside, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. His eyes had flickered over me just slightly, but I couldn't tell if he'd noticed anything about the transformation. The glove, the garland—they were supposed to protect me. Keep me in the mortal world.

I wasn't ready to face the truth yet. Not now.

But something told me I would have to very soon.

Uranus's POV

The moment I caught that box, I felt a jolt. Not because of its weight—but because she was still here. Gaiana.

I hadn't seen her in three years.

It had been three years. Three years since we'd last seen each other, and there she was, after all this time standing right in front of me, looking almost the same—and yet completely different. The mortal world did a good job at hiding the goddess inside her, but I knew. She was more goddess than mortal—I knew that much—even though she was trying to hide it with that ridiculous garland in her hair and the glove wrapped tightly around her hand. The minute I'd seen her, something had clicked. It had to be her. No one else could make the world feel like this. Now, I was happy I'd missed the Winter Solstice Festival.

Still I had my suspicions, that was until not even five minutes later when her disguise was shaken.

She didn't recognize me yet, though. Not consciously. She couldn't. Not with the way she was hiding everything about herself. But I knew.

I hadn't imagined that jolt, that spark between us. It was real. But I didn't let on. She didn't know who I was yet, and I wasn't about to tell her. Not now.

I smiled, holding her box steady above her head. "Don't worry," I said lightly, "I'm just here to help."

After all, we were just new neighbours. Basically strangers to her, right now at least.

There was a faint sense of familiarity between us that neither of us acknowledged, even as we worked together. As if we'd been doing this—being at each other's side—for a lot longer than we thought.

But when she adjusted her garland, just slightly brushing it off her head, I felt a familiar glow. Her appearance shifted ever so slightly—her eyes, her hair. It was almost imperceptible, but I couldn't deny the change. It made my heart skip for a second, I had felt it—the familiarity.

Her ginger hair had faded into gold-ish ginger and her grey eyes into greenish grey, and though I couldn't pinpoint it in that moment, the jolt of recognition shot through me. I remembered—Her. Her strange gold hair. Her gentle green eyes. But I didn't say anything.

Not yet.

I had to play this carefully. If she didn't want to acknowledge it, then neither would I.

I had to wait. The time wasn't right yet.