The Summoner
APHRODITE SAT ON HER THRONE languidly, her feet propped up by a very handsome demigod's muscular back.
She didn't have much to do, but to her, that didn't mean she was in a rut; it simply meant she was exceptionally good at her job.
The Goddess smiled lazily.
Perhaps she could finally meet with Ares—
"Mother!"
The throne room echoed the Sistine shout as Eros stumbled in, his coordination less than desirable.
Getting his bearings, he bowed before her, rising up quickly.
His handsome face was laden with anguish, confirming that he had not come bearing good news.
"You are needed in Olympus, Mother."
"Could they not have sent Hermes? Not that I do not enjoy your company son, but why might, I ask would the Gods send you?"
Eros was not offended. Not only was Hermes messenger to the Gods, but he and his mother were known for playing pranks and starting wars when in each other company.
"This message is particularly disconcerting one, Mother. They thought I should be the one to summon you."
"Very well."
Within a blink of an eye, the two were on Mount Olympus, paying the grandeur and splendor no mind.
Taking her throne beside her son Eros and her lover Ares, she raised a brow.
"Well?" She asked expectedly.
"You have started a war."
Aphrodite merely cocked her head in mild interest.
"I was not aware of that. Do tell."
