Born in Beauty

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Born in Beauty Page 5

by Melody Rose


  My insides craved to see it. I wanted to experience it with him, share this moment, and remember it. I squeezed his hand tightly, hard enough to rub his knuckles together, but he didn’t complain. We breathed in tandem a couple more times before I managed to open my eyes.

  My vision was blurry at first. Water dotted the corners of my view, and I swiped away at it hurriedly. Then I quickly realized that I was holding on to Ansel’s hand only and not the safety bar. Panicked, I let go of Ansel and the stray tears in order to hold tight against the golden bar.

  The first thing I saw was the four glimmering horses straight ahead. They galloped along as if they were running on solid ground. But their hooves moved in silence, clopping against nothing but air. Grace surrounded the creatures as they floated above the clouds.

  My gaze shifted from the horses to the surrounding scenery. It was as gorgeous as Ansel described. Not even da Vinci himself could capture the purity of this beauty. It was Uranus at his best and brightest. While Zeus was now the god of the sky, it was Gaia and Uranus who had first created this gorgeous home we called Earth. Caught between the two, I could finally observe the magnificence of their work.

  “Wow,” I breathed, unable to think of anything else.

  “Wow is right,” Ansel agreed.

  While he didn’t take my hand in his again, he rested it next to mine on the safety bar. It was an invitation, but one I wasn’t ready to take just yet. I needed more time, more security on the flying chariot before I released my hold on the safety bar just yet. Still, I enjoyed the nearness of him, our bodies close enough to touch but not venturing beyond that comforting space.

  “How often do you get to use the chariot?” I asked, trying to think of something to talk about. It was more of a distraction tactic than anything else. Because, yes, while the sight before us was a beautiful one indeed, there was still a large part of me wanting to crawl back down to the confines of the chariot, with my eyes glued shut.

  “Only once a year,” Ansel said with a disappointed sigh. “To pick up students like this.”

  “How many can you fit in here?” I asked, chancing a glance about the vehicle. My eyes caught a glimpse of the open back behind me, and my stomach fell to the floor. I immediately turned back to the front and swallowed the bile that dared to rise up in the back of my throat.

  “Only three,” Ansel answered, not noticing my distress as he took up the reins in both hands again. “There are enough vehicles to gather everyone, though some years, like last year, I was lucky enough to get to have more than one trip.”

  “Am I…” I hesitated, unsure why the question made me nervous. “Am I your only pick up this year?”

  “Yes,” Ansel said, staring ahead at the invisible pathway.

  My heart fluttered at the thought. But I didn’t want to say anything like that, so I said the only other thing I could think of. “Well, thank you then.”

  “Thank you,” Ansel replied. “It’s because of you that I get to fly this thing at all. It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

  “Are you sure you weren’t supposed to be drafted to Aeras?” I joked.

  Ansel smiled at my comment. “No, I’m Fotia all the way. Always and forever.”

  “Watch me end up drafted to Nero or something like that,” I groaned. “That would be just my luck.”

  “They won’t do that,” Ansel said with enough confidence to make me think he already knew the answer. “It wouldn’t make any tactical sense.”

  “So then I guess I’ll be Fotia if we’re going with logic,” I said with a smile of my own. “Always and forever.”

  Ansel didn’t reply to me. He had a serious look on his face and didn’t spare me a glance for a moment. It made me think I had said something wrong, which sent my doubts and anxieties in a spin. I wondered what he was thinking about and wanted to keep the conversation going. Not only to ease my fear of heights, but also because I enjoyed talking to him.

  “Did you ever think you would be drafted to any other branch?” I asked, suspecting the answer but still wanting to hear it directly from him.

  “No,” Ansel said with a slight shake of his head. “It’s always been Fotia for me. Even when we were kids, both Esme and I knew…” His voice trailed off as he said her name.

  The surrounding air, once crisp and beautiful, grew heavy and stale. The mere mention of Ansel's former friend, the traitor who tried to kill us both, would sour any conversation. I thought of a way to turn it around, change the subject, get the banter going again. Turned out that Ansel spoke first.

  “Is it weird to miss her?” Ansel said, baring a bit of his feelings out in the open.

  “No,” I said automatically. “She was your friend for a long time. It’s like a breakup, that just doesn’t go away overnight.”

  Ansel sighed and leaned his head back to look directly up, as if the answer to his problems was written out among the blue sky. “I still can’t believe she did it, you know. I never would have thought it of her. I keep thinking that there had to be signs or something, but I never saw any.”

  “Love is blind or something like that.” I said the words without thinking about the possible subtext that went along with them. I had seen the way Ansel looked at Esme, even when I first met the pair of them. While the feelings might not have been reciprocated, Ansel loved Esme as something more than friends. That much was certain.

  Ansel didn’t respond to me right away. He bit the inside of his cheek, looking like he wanted to say something but didn’t. We stood in the weighted silence, both clearly uncomfortable. Even though we were flying through the air at an alarming rate, I felt stuck and still.

  “I guess it's hard to see the flaws in the ones we love,” Ansel said, more to himself than to me.

  “It is,” I agreed with him.

  “I’ve spent all of last semester and this summer trying to forgive myself,” Ansel said, once again spilling his guts. “I think I’m getting there, but it’s hard. And I do. Miss her, I mean.”

  This time, I reached out to comfort him. I released the safety bar and put a hand on his forearm. I tried not to think about how toned it was and instead focused on sympathizing with him. Ansel turned to look at me and rested his free hand atop mine.

  We looked into one another’s eyes, and I was shocked to realize how many times Ansel let me see his true self. I peered into his soul over and over again, unafraid and even exhilarated that he trusted me that much. We were close enough to kiss, and more than anything, I wanted to close that gap and press my lips to his.

  I’d dug deep into my memories to remember what he felt like, tasted like. The temptation egged me on, pushed me forward. I could have been imagining things, but I thought I saw him lean in too. The gap was definitely smaller than it had been before. I even dared to close my eyes…

  When the chariot lurched to the side. I let out a cry and tumbled into Ansel, my hand slipping off the safety bar. I reached out to steady myself against his chest and his bent back, the edge of the chariot digging into his spine. Ansel reached out and wrapped his arms around me in order to steady me as my feet tangled in his. Suddenly the reins were loose and threatened to slip over the side.

  Unthinkingly, I made a grab for them, but they fell out of my grip, like a slippery salamander, and fell further over the edge. I pushed away from Ansel and leaned over the side of the chariot with an open palm. My fingers clasped around the thin leather, and I released a triumphant whoop!

  “Got them!” I cheered.

  My excitement was short-lived, however, as the horses decided to begin our descent with me hanging over the side of the chariot. We pushed through the sea of clouds, and suddenly, the ground appeared.

  It was wide and vast. The whole earth rested far, far, far below me. Everything was miniature and vaguely indistinguishable. I could distinguish the trees of the woods surrounding the campus, but they were still way down there.

  I let out a choked gasp and froze out of pure fear. I couldn’t te
ar my eyes away from the ground as it hurtled up towards me. My mouth hung open, and I babbled incoherent sounds of bewilderment, terror, and surprise.

  The horses pummeled downward, and I found I could barely push myself up and away from the edge due to the pure force of our descent. My cries garbled in my throat, and the hand with the reins shook violently.

  “Cheyenne,” Ansel called out from somewhere that sounded a thousand miles away.

  There was a fierce tugging at my midsection. An arm wrapped under my arms, just above my breasts, and yanked me backward. My knees buckled just then, and I collapsed into Ansel’s arms. We fell to the floor of the chariot together, pushed by my weight and the force of the decline.

  In the midst of all the commotion, I lost hold of the reins I’d worked so hard to retain. We crouched together at the front of the chariot, staring out the open back as the horses raced downward, without a guide.

  Ansel held me close, and I buried my face into his chest, unable to look any more. We were in freefall, and there was a slight lightness to my body that frightened me the most. I felt like I didn’t have control. Even with one hand clutching the safety bar for dear life, there was no guarantee that we wouldn’t crash and burn into the earth. Well, I wouldn’t burn, but crashing was still a definite possibility.

  “Hang on!” Ansel called out as the whirl of wind returned.

  I gripped his shirt, tufts of it popping out between my fingers, while my other hand remained glued to the safety bar. The fall felt like it would never end, so when we finally reached the ground with an unsteady bump and jolt, I couldn’t believe it at first. We rolled forward and decelerated as best we could. We rolled along uneven ground, and my stomach felt like it was on a trampoline.

  Finally, we grounded to a halt. Ansel and I fell back against the chariot as the horses stopped. We sat there for a moment, holding on to one another, too stunned to move.

  Suddenly, Ansel released a bark of a laugh. I felt his belly move up and down as he wheezed for air. At first, I pushed off him and looked incredulously at his unstoppable, almost insane laughter. As I watched the happiness roll off him, I found my own face breaking into a smile. Soon, my own laughter bubbled up to the surface and joined in harmony with his. The pair of us laid in the chariot together, laughed our asses off as the relief of almost dying came loose.

  “Next year,” I said through fits of laughter, “I’m taking the Argo.”

  5

  We tumbled out of the chariot like a pair of drunken sailors gaining their sea legs again for the first time. Our laughter finally subsided when we saw a lean figure running towards us in the distance. I realized, then, that we’d landed over by the farmhouse which made sense considering it was one of the largest parts of campus with an open area for landing, or crash landing, flying chariots.

  Fear took hold of my throat and held my laughter captive as I saw the older gentleman coming for us. It took me a minute, though, to realize that I had nothing to be afraid of. The man was wearing a cowboy hat and overalls with brown leather boots. He walked with a slight limp and had a gray five o’clock shadow along his square jawline.

  Mac, the resident campus farmer and caretaker of the animals, pounded over to us with a grim expression. “You two nearly gave me a damn heart attack!”

  “Sorry, Mac,” Ansel said apologetically.

  “Damn right, you’re sorry!” Mac cursed again. “Holy Hermes, you two. Falling out of the sky like that. I thought you knew how to drive that thing, Ansel.”

  “I do,” the soldier insisted, his pride obviously wounded.

  “Then what the hell happened?” Mac said as he put his hands on his hips. “Because that was the most chaotic landing I’d ever seen in my life.”

  “I… well, you see…” Ansel scratched at the back of his neck, lost for words.

  “It’s my fault,” I jumped in. “I’m afraid of heights, as you may remember.”

  “Oh, I remember,” Mac said, eyeing me as I referred to the pegasus incident from New Year’s. “I’m surprised you didn’t come on the Argo with some of the other students.”

  I shot Ansel a glare which he didn’t catch because he was still looking at the ground, embarrassed. “Yes, well, I didn’t know that was an option at the time. Anyway, I was freaking out on the chariot, and Ansel tried to help me, and we lost the reins, and hence,” I gestured to the chariot, “crash landing.”

  “You’re lucky that Aethon, Pyrois, Phelgon, and Eous knew where to go,” Mac said as he crossed over to the horses. He pulled out some sugar cubes from the front pocket of his overall and fed a couple to each of Apollo’s horses. “Because otherwise, you would have been driving blind up there and might have landed in worse shape than you did.”

  “At least we didn’t break it, or anyone,” I said, trying to find the bright side.

  “You can thank Tyche for that luck,” Mac scoffed, referring to the goddess of luck herself. “Your dogs are by the sheep pen, Cheyenne, waiting for you. I’m sure they know you’re here already.”

  “Thanks, Mac,” I said, “and sorry again about the almost heart attack.”

  “Glad you two are okay, that’s really what matters,” Mac said with a half-smile. “Now get going. You two can’t be late for the opening ceremony.”

  “The what?” I asked, looking between the two of my companions.

  “The opening… oh, that’s right!” Mac smacked his forehead. “You came in the middle of the semester. Well, you’re in for a treat. The opening ceremony kicks off the school year. It’s a grand ol’ feast. The kitchen goes all out.”

  “It’s also when the first round of draft picks happens,” Ansel chimed in, seeming to have found his voice again.

  My nervousness came back again in full force and ate away at my stomach. “Draft picks? Already?”

  “Some students showed so much promise in their first year that branch leaders want to start training them right away,” Ansel said with a shrug as if this was a natural thing rather than something that made a surge of nerves jolt through my stomach.

  The draft was the most important part of the second year at the Military Academy of Olympus. During the course of this year, students were drafted into one of the four branches: Fotia, Aeras, Nero, and Gi. Each branch was responsible for a different aspect of the Olympic Military and had an elemental base to them.

  Fotia soldiers focused on fire and were often the boots on the ground side of the military. They were also known to be the fiercest warriors, training in various fighting styles and weaponry. Aeras handled all of the air power and resources. Gi oversaw groundwork, and they emphasized guarding and defending, especially in the various bases around the world. Finally, Nero soldiers had a water base. They kept the waters safe for demigods to travel and upheld the notion of peace above all.

  Once drafted, students spent their final two years at the Academy taking specialized classes with their fellow soldiers in their branch. Then, ideally, soldiers would graduate and serve the military in various ways.

  However, the most terrifying part of this year was that not everyone got drafted. If a soldier wasn’t selected by any of the branches, then they would be kicked out of the school and have their memory erased. They would forget the existence of gods, demigods, and monsters altogether. That was the punishment for anyone who left the service of the military, particularly if their removal was involuntary.

  Ansel was a member of the Fotia branch, and I wanted to join him there. Considering my abilities to withstand heat and control Eternal Flame, it made sense. However, I wasn’t a fierce warrior. In fact, I still wasn’t prone to fighting. Despite the various battles I’d been in last year, I still preferred making weapons to wielding them. That trait alone made me more suitable for Nero than Fotia. I was afraid that if I couldn’t step up my game, I wouldn’t get drafted anywhere.

  One of my biggest fears was losing my memories of this place. I had learned so much, even just in the first year, and I knew I still had a long way
to go. In spite of all of the trials and tribulations of the first semester, the second one had gone smoothly, and I found a second home here. Plus, I needed to learn about my father.

  Last year, the Olympic Officials told me that my father, Hephaestus, had gone missing for the last twenty years or so. Basically, for my entire existence, I wanted to find him and talk to him. I had so many questions, and I didn’t know how I would ever get through them all. Once, I’d tried to write them down, but my hand had cramped up from all of the pages.

  So this year, I had to get drafted. While I wanted to be in Fotia, I knew that I would accept any branch just to get to stay.

  The idea that some of my fellow second years were going to get drafted tonight, on the very first day of classes, made my skin pimple with goosebumps. I shook out my hands to try to rid them of the nerves.

  Mac moved to the horses to begin unhitching them from the chariot. I stepped up next to him. “Can I help?”

  “No, no,” Mac said as he waved me off. “You two don’t want to be late. I’ve got this.”

  “Mac,” I protested, but the farmer cut me off.

  “Go,” he insisted. “I don’t mind. Just promise me you won't crash land into the fields again any time soon.” His voice was exasperated, half-joking and half-serious.

  I held my hand over my heart. “I promise.”

  “Thanks, Mac,” Ansel said with a nod towards the farmer.

  “Thank me by getting out of my hair,” Mac said, throwing in a wide grin for good measure.

  The pair of us ventured down the hill in the direction of the paddocks. Ansel and I walked side by side to fetch Khryseos and Argyreos. We were silent again during this walk. This time, it was just as awkward as before.

  I still couldn’t believe he had this kind of effect on me. It was as though he cast a spell, causing me to forget everything that had been going on in my head. Or as though he broke the connection between my brain and my mouth. I desperately wanted to say something. Even small talk would be better than this tense silence. But if I were honest with myself, what I really wanted to do was push him up against a nearby tree and run my hands all over him, while my tongue tasted--

 

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