Skyfire

The goddess of the hunt darted through the black mountains like a silver comet crossing the night sky, nimbly -though reluctantly- making her way to the world of mortals.

Her upper lip curled in distaste as she drew close enough to see the lights illuminating the stone city of Delphi. She could hear the faint, unpleasant sound of their graceless music. Perhaps it was her imagination, but even the wind seemed to carry the scent of the disgusting wine they brewed.

The idea of her twin brother living there -and enjoying himself immensely, apparently- baffled Artemis. How could their sickening wine please him, when they had been raised drinking the purest of nectar? How could he enjoy their brutish and dissonant songs when he himself had once made an entire court fall to their knees weep like infants just by plucking a few strings of his lyre?

But she forced her disgust down. She had a mission to accomplish that was infinitely more important that whatever discomfort she had to endure. Besides, it wouldn’t take long. Once she was finished, she could rush back to the silence and purity of the wilderness where her Huntresses waited. Onward, then, she decided.

Once Artemis was in sight of the city gates, she closed her eyes and willed her divinity to recede. The faint silvery glow that always surrounded her faded away, the crescent moon-shaped diadem on her head seemed to shrink and nestle itself deep into her wild curls. When her eyes opened, she was quite a bit closer to the ground than before. Glancing towards the window of a nearby shop, she saw what all mortals who passed by would see: a plain young woman with loose, tattered clothes and a faint scowl.

Wearing this disguise was like trying on one of Aphrodite’s lacy silk gowns. It itched and felt wrong. She had always figured that her twin chose to remain in his divine form because the vain, arrogant idiot adored the fawning worship that the mortals heaped upon him, but perhaps it was a matter of comfort, too.

And Apollo was nothing if not comfortable.

Mercifully, the late hour meant most of the cobblestone streets were empty. Closer to the heart of the city, the clusters of light were brighter and closer together. Presumably, that was where her brother was fucking around.

Artemis actually let out a snort when she saw the ridiculous golden statue just beyond the gates. A life-size version of Apollo glared fiercely into the distance as he drew his bow. Every muscle, tendon, and vein in his arms and legs were visible. At least his armor covered most of everything else. She really didn’t want to know how anatomically correct the sculptor had been.

“You shouldn’t make fun,” and old woman scolded from Artemis’ left side. “In my day, we respected the gods, you know. We feared them!” She preened, as if her cowardice was an act of righteousness. “You young people’ve become spoiled and weak. You don’t appreciate everything the gods give you! If you ask me, the Trojans have the right idea.” She concluded loftily.

“Well no one fucking asked you, did they?” Artemis snapped. The horrific situation in Troy was only one of the things she needed to discuss with Apollo, and this miserable old shrew was rapidly draining the last ounce of her patience.

The woman gasped and sputtered, her jowls literally quivering. Apparently, there were no words that could accurately convey her furious indignation. Her sidekick, another ancient mortal woman who seemed just as self-righteous but meeker, pressed a hand to her chest.

“Tell you what,” Artemis continued in the same aggressive tone. She spread her arms out widely. “If Apollo is offended by my reaction to his ridiculous, anatomically incorrect statue, may he strike me and this nosy fucking bitch down right this moment!” She closed her eyes and tilted her chin up towards the sky.

The woman’s face turned as white as her hair. Artemis felt a bolt of malicious pleasure.

“Anatomically incorrect?” a deep, familiar voice echoed from behind her.

Despite herself, Artemis smiled.

“My Lord!” The old woman practically moaned, apparently trying to fall to her knees but not quite managing it. If she were a cauldron, she would be bubbling over with panic.“Please, I said nothing, it was this woman who-”

“There, there,” Apollo said patronizingly, giving the shrew his most charming grin. In that moment, the shriveled and pathetically pious woman was reduced to a blushing, giggling schoolgirl. Artemis rolled her eyes.

He was dressed in a casual white t-shirt, brown leather jacket, and jeans. If it were not for his golden glow or his inhuman size, he might have almost passed as a mortal. So he dimmed his divinity, then, rather than shutting it off entirely. Interesting.

“She is only teasing,” Apollo continued sweetly, though Artemis -who could read her brother like an open book- recognized the flicker of distaste in his brilliant golden irises. “My dear sister has a dark sense of humor.”

“You sister? Artemis?!”

“Fuck you,” greeted Artemis.

Apollo snorted. “But as I was saying, the statue is perfectly accurate,” He curled his arm and flexed the muscles, and if reassuring himself that it was all still there.

“I need to speak with you,” Artemis said, ignoring his levity. “It is important.”

Abruptly, the humor faded from his expression. “Is something wrong? It is you or Mother?”

“We should discuss this privately,” she tilted her head suggestively towards the women.

“Right.” Apollo jerked his chin in the direction of a large marble temple with a golden sun emblem adorning the front. “Ladies. Have a good evening.” Another wink, and a responding hysterical giggle.

“Still so full of yourself, I see,” Artemis muttered.

“I did not tell them to build it,” Apollo countered hastily. “The statues orthe temple. I am not even sure what I’m supposed to do with it. I mean, do they think I live here? Or that I can hear them more clearly if they pray here?”

“Hang on. ‘Statues’? As in, plural?”

The god of the sun flushed slightly. “I do not want to talk about it.”

Artemis grinned. An older sister was always an older sister, be it human, animal, or god.

As soon as the doors closed behind them, Apollo waved his hand. A blinding light on the temple’s high ceiling instantly illuminated the hall. The walls were covered in bronze etchings depicting Apollo’s life and adventures.

Artemis knew had a few such temples herself, but it had never really occurred to her to visit them. She had never much cared for how mortals saw her (with a few notable exceptions, of course).

“What is it you want to talk about?” Apollo pressed, and her smile faded away instantly when she recalled the reason that had brought her to this place.

“It is about father.”

Apollo’s expression hardened. “Father can go fuck himself. I have not spoken to him since I left Olympus and I mean to keep it that way. I never imagined you would sink so low as to be his errand girl, sister.” His voice was tight with anger.

She clenched her jaw. “I am not here to deliver a message from him. I am... concerned. I worry he has gone mad.”

“Please. He went mad the second he took the throne and became King of the Gods. Do you recall what he did to Athena’s mother right after she literally handed him the crown?”

“It is worse than that. Much worse.” Artemis lowered her voice, but the massive, empty room echoed the terrible words back to her. “He killed Hera.”

There was a long pause of stunned silence. Apollo looked as if he had been kicked in the stomach by a horse.

Neither of the twins had any love for their stepmother. Hera was petty, vindictive, and had sought to make their lives needlessly difficult from the moment they were conceived. In her mind, Zeus’ bastards were as guilty their father’s crimes as he was.

Still.

She was the Queen of the Gods. The mother of (some of) their siblings.

“Why have I not heard about it?” Apollo’s question came out as a whisper. He drove his long fingers into his mass of dark gold curls, gripping them tightly.

“Father wants to keep it a secret for as long as he can, but I am not sure why. He decapitated her in front of all the gods of Olympus. In front of Ares, Hephaestus, even Hebe. He has also kept a tight leash on Hermes. Getting in and out of Olympus is a massive risk these days.”

“Then why are you here, Artemis?”

She hesitated. “Athena... Athena has a plan. We need your help.”

“A plan? What good it a plan against a fucking lightning bolt? Have you all forgotten that he is stronger than the rest of us combined?” Apollo pinched the straight bridge of his nose. “You should just do what I did. Leave that bullshit behind and get out of there. Refuse to be part of his fucking circus.”

“Do not be so damn naive,” Artemis snapped in the same tone she used with the old woman. “Hera isn’t the only problem. Have you heard about Troy?”

“The war?”

“No, but that is actually his doing, too. I meant the sacrifices.”

“What sacrifices?”

“Apparently, a Trojan Oracle prophesied that Troy would be destroyed by the King of the Gods with his lightning. Zeus promised to spare the city if they sacrificed one of their princesses every year. They are down to the last one now; the Oracle herself.”

“I believe I have heard of her before,” Apollo mused. “Cassandra, yes?”

“Yes. How unlike you to pay attention to something outside of your precious city.”

“I am the god of prophecy, Artemis. The Oracles are sort of in my jurisdiction. But why are you telling me this?”

“It does not trouble you? The death of your own Oracle?”

“She is not my Oracle, she is an Oracle. And yes, of course it troubles me, but not enough to start a war with Father. How many mortals will die then? I am warning you, the best chance any of us have -that princess included- is to keep the peace. You think he is a monster now, but there is no telling what he will become if you challenge him.”

Artemis’ anger surged. “You fucking child,” she spat. “Do not pretend you want to stay out of this because it is more prudent; you have not had a moment of prudence in your entire existence. So tell me, Apollo, is it because you are a lazy, spoiled brat or because you are afraid?”

“Now who is being naive?” Apollo hissed, his lips peeling away from his teeth in a very animalistic snarl.

Artemis smirked. She and her brother had always been two sides of the same coin. She was the moon, he was the sun. She was the dark, he was the light. She was the wilderness, he was civilization.

But when he was angry, he became as basic and wild as any beast she encountered in the mountains. After all, gods were closer to animals than they were to mortals.

“Only cowards confuse courage with naivety, Apollo.” She softened her voice slightly, making it coaxing and gentle as the day she had helped her mother deliver him. “I need you to believe me: we have a real opportunity to stop Father’s madness. Are you not tired of looking over your shoulder all the time? Do you not miss Olympus and the rest of our family? Besides, no matter how much you might pretend otherwise, I know you care about the mortals. Far more than I do.”

Apollo closed his eyes, looking pained. “Look,” he sighed. “I am not an idiot. Having Athena on the throne instead of Zeus would be ideal. But it is not realistic. There is a reason Zeus is King of the Gods, and it is not because of his wisdom.”

Athena didn’t want to be anywhere near the throne, but Artemis sensed it was not the right time to mention that.

“If something actually comes of all this plotting, I will be there to fight beside you. Of course I will. But I hope you will not be hasty. No matter what you think my motivation is, you have to know that a war would be catastrophic for everyone. Forget the fall of Troy; Athens, Sparta, Mycenae, Ithaca- they will all burn. If there is even the slightest chance that Father can be reasoned with or appeased, you must take it. Surely Athena can see the wisdom in that.”

“I have to say, I am disappointed in you,” Artemis confessed. “You were the first to gather the courage to leave Father’s home. I was certain you would wish to lead the armies alongside Ares and Athena.”

Hurt flared in her brother’s eyes, though he did his best to disguise it. “How about this,” he suggested. “While you speak to Athena and the others, I will go to Troy and gauge the situation for myself. I will rescue the Oracle and finish the war.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Artemis questioned, though she could see that his clever mind was already running through different schemes and plots.

“I will figure it out. Do not worry about me.”

She gave him a sad smile. “I will always worry about you. I am your big sister.”

Apollo glared. “We are twins.”

“And yet, I am nine days older. I helped deliver you.”

The familiar, teasing banter was easy to fall into. The tension between the twins abruptly dissipated, leaving only peaceful balance in its wake.

As the sun began to lighten the edge of the horizon with a thin slice of blue, Artemis stepped out of the temple and clasped Apollo’s forearm. As he was in his divine form and she, in her mortal one, the difference between their own heights was even more stark than usual.

“I am glad you came to visit me,” said Apollo, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. “No matter the circumstances.”

“I am glad, too.” She forced her lips into a sad smile that clearly did not fool Apollo. She had forgotten that he could read her like an open book, too.

“What is wrong?” His beautiful face, so different from her own, fell with concern.

“Nothing,” she dismissed, pulling away from him and patting his arm. “I am just anxious to go back home.”

Apollo clearly did not believe her, but he nodded slowly and pulled away. “Alright, then. Tell your Huntresses I said hello.”

“I will do no such thing. You know they hate you.”

“They hate how in love with me they are.”

“No, Apollo. They really just hate you.”

He chuckled. “If you say so, Sister. I will miss you.”

Artemis gave up on faking it and just gave him a heartbroken smile.“Goodbye, Brother,” she said softly, then forced herself to turn towards the street.

She knew she would never see him again.

A few blocks away, fishermen were preparing to set out on their boats, clad in thick wool sweaters and jackets that matched Apollo’s. Soon, the whole area would be crawling with mortals. She wanted to get as far away from Delphi before that happened.

It was her last chance to go back to the mountains, to see her Huntresses and, well, hunt. To feel the fresh wind on her skin, close her eyes and hear nothing but crickets and rustling leaves.

Then, she would go to see her parents.