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The halls are gaudy. Marble walls, floors and ceilings covered in a solid piece of mirror.
The dimensions are massive. The size of more than five humans tall. Dad used to tell me stories of gods in their divine forms being titanic in height. Towering over mortals like the most ancient of trees.
Then again, I doubt he’d know for certain. No mortal truly knows though because no human could survive seeing them in that form.
Perhaps some of what’s been said about the Olympians isn’t completely out of touch rumors. I shudder at the thought of Apollo storming through the walls at a height which fits the doorway.
Tapestries and statues dot the halls, adding to the already over the top opulent decorations. Clanking of armor slowly became louder and louder. I darted behind an alcove of a statue, whose pedestal alone was half of my height. Crouching behind, I sat as silent as I could muster.
Trudging slowly past the decrepit statue, I hear the guards over my hushed silence.
Peeking out from the side, I observe a man with a well-kept salt and pepper beard. His eyebrows on the other hand, remind me of the fuzziest of caterpillars that fell from trees during the summer.
Mr. Bushy Eyebrow's voice brought me back into focus. “Did you hear about the mortal in the palace?” His voice is gruff.
“Yes,” replied the much younger guard. Though he appears to still be several years older than me. “I have heard that Apollo has prohibited most of the guards from coming in for several days.”
The older guard laughs loudly. “Apparently we’re well seasoned.”
“Speak for yourself. At least I don’t have a foot in the grave.” The younger guard jests at the older one.
I recoil, waiting for a fierce reply.
None came.
Instead, the older guard chuckled loudly. “Yeah, at least I don’t still have peach fuzz. You know, you must be at least an adult to become a guard.”
“Oi, you're jealous of my youth and my full head of hair,” he says as he taps the bald bushy eyebrowed man on the head.
Biting my lower lip, I hold back laughter.
The conversation drops off as they turn down a hallway down the way.
Hurriedly, I stand.
Running down the hallway, I look from side to side.
Letting my feet carry me to where I think my destination lays positioned in the castle.
As I round one corner, a tall gate extends just below the giant doorway. Precisely cute to prevent the scraping of iron on stone. A testament to the craftsmanship of the entire palace.
Creaking the gate open, I slip inside. Pulling the door flush behind me.
The garden was cozy. Not as large or as opulent as I would’ve guessed from a palace as regal as Apollo’s home. But right now, I’m just happy to have grass and trees around me.
Kicking off my sandals, I let the green blades coil around my toes.
Finally, I feel a sense of relief for the first time since I was dragged to the land of the Olympians.
Bending over, I grasp my shoes in one hand as I wander along the grass.
Do I want to sit under a tree?
Maybe lie in some dirt?
Gods, it all sounded perfect.
Spying a pond, I grin.
