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Joining all the other maidens. Every ounce of the breath of life pulled from our chests. Returning to mud, as the gods created us from.
Anticipation prickles at my skin. Like I'm walking on a frozen lake only for the ice to give way. Letting me crash into its frigid black waters. My feet are frozen yet soaked in sweat as I think about what I’m planning to do.
Apollo lays on the ground covered in ichor. Artemis and Chiron watch the doors with a fear that’s difficult to explain as anything other than sheer terror.
“Arista,” I whisper.
She pulls at my hand. “Yes, I'm here.” Her soft voice whispers against my mind. Her hand is cool like the mist from the forest.
“Please,” I pleaded. “Don’t leave me.”
“Never,” she promised. “I never have left you and I don’t plan on starting now. You and I are one. Our souls inexplicably intertwined.”
Approaching me from behind, Artemis extends her hand to me, giving me a glass of ambrosia, “Here. Take this. Full strength. It helps with the nerves.”
I nod. Tossing the liquid back, I sigh loudly.
The pleasant liquid warms my insides but does nothing to quell my nerves. My heart pounds so loudly that the world becomes muted. leaving me and the sound of my ears. The more I stood staring, the more the fear bubbled in me.
Apollo lays silently on the floor at the foot of the dais.
I need to do this for him.
The doors thunder at the entrance of the room. Turning, I watch as those doors are cast open. Shattering from the great force.
There stands Zeus.
The centaur and the Moon Goddess don’t let grass grow under their feet. Springing into action.
Artemis and Chiron fling arrows at him. Both ready to switch to their swords at a moment's notice. I bit my lip.
I need to sit on the throne.
“Persephone,” Zeus calls from behind me.
I pause, knowing he is talking to me.
“Don’t sit on that throne and I promise you’ll be greatly rewarded.” Zeus's voice booms from behind me.
The fear of me turning into mud makes this a tempting offer. More tempting than it should’ve been.
“If you don’t sit on that throne, I'll make you my queen,” He coos, growing louder.
The plucking of arrows seems to pick up. But there was no cry of pain. None have hit their mark.
“With me, you’ll rule, I would never force you to face the throne,” he promises. His voice grows yet louder.
Don’t listen to him, I chide myself.
“I would never rule beside the man who stole my father away from me,” I state as I close my eyes.
I hurl myself down onto the Dying Throne.
The ousted king bellows. The Moon Goddess and him are now locked in close combat.
Everything looked so bleak. Chiron and Artemis wouldn’t be able to hold him long.
I wait for my body to change to mud. Treasuring my last few moments.
