“Dark,” I repeated. “That’s a light way to put it.”
Apollo ignored my chiding. “You signed yourself up for this. Are you scared?”
“Yeah,” I said, not having it in me to find a quip. I felt like I was falling into an endless pit. There wasn’t going to be an end in sight. Not now.
Not ever.
Ah, fuck this.
I shouldn’t have agreed so easily.
“Will this ever end?” I asked.
Apollo chuckled. “End? It hasn’t even started.”
I froze, unsure how to react to his promise. I sensed Apollo coming closer, but he had no physical form, just like I didn’t. “I will give some of my essence to you,” he said. “It’s something I’ve done before. My mood might get more volatile, but it’ll help you stabilize as the chiasma. You might be powerful, but your strength doesn’t rival that of the old gods.”
“Yeah,” I replied.
Was that all I could say? The fear had taken over me so much that I couldn’t formulate proper sentences.
“This will be an enlightening experience,” Apollo said.
He surged toward me then, giving me a large chunk of his power. His magic blended with mine. I’d grown up with this magic, and it integrated with me easily. This time, however, Apollo didn’t just give me a small, stolen portion of his essence. He threw half of himself inside my body, and my presence grew and swelled and expanded.
Lines shot out from me. Hundreds. Thousands. Millions of them. They searched all the beings of both Haven and Earth, connecting them in a huge network that was attached to one source.
Me.
I began seeing everything. The lines of the network reached the familiar places first. The orphanage that I’d grown up in. My school. The Sanctuary. I saw Danna.
Most importantly, my vassals.
My dear, heartbroken vassals.
My consciousness lingered over them for the longest time. They were alive, but their souls seemed to have been sucked out of them. Hansel’s attention was transfixed on the sky and Theo’s to the ground. Devon was bent over his knees, his hands pressed to his forehead. Liam wasn’t with them.
I searched the area for him. It didn’t take long until I sensed him.
And what I saw was crushing.
Liam hugged Fenrir to his chest.
And he cried.
He looked nothing like the cool, collected Liam I’d grown to love and adore. He was a shattered version of himself.
“Why?” he cried. His face had turned red from the strain. The tears clumped his hair together and stuck it to the side of his face. Thick eyelashes fluttered over his green eyes as he blinked and balled his hands into fists.
This was the pain I’d caused to my vassals.
I couldn’t look anymore. I pulled away from them, returning to the mental recesses of my thoughts. I focused on other sights.
There were beautiful, foreign ones that I’d never come across before. Seas that sparkled with the colors of the rainbow. Long stretches of white sand, lining the turquoise waters of beaches. Mountains rimmed by clouds that looked like candy floss. As I traveled to these places using my powers as the chiasma, I felt like I was actually there.
Still, scenery would get boring eventually. There was only one place I wanted to be, and that was beside my vassals. But seeing them as they mourned was too torturous. Perhaps I should wait until they settled down. Maybe then, Liam would stop crying.
I’d broken him.
He’d recover.
Eventually.
I hoped.
“You’re part of everything now,” Apollo said, his consciousness blending with mine. “How does omnipotence feel like?”
Both realms were beneath me. I was untouchable. Uncontestable. I had control over everything and anything, and yet when I tried communicating with the normal beings I had domain over, it was impossible to reach them. There were so many visions coming at me at once, and I had to create a mental wall, shoving the unimportant memories to another part of my mind, locking them away so I knew to focus. I could simply let them overwhelm me. They’d be too much then, and I’d probably be numb, losing myself to madness.
Omnipotence. How did it actually feel like? I considered Apollo’s question.
“Lonely,” I replied.
“You’ll learn to love it.”
I doubted I ever would. “Did you?”
Apollo fell silent. The silence went on for what I assumed was a long stretch, but time didn’t work the same way. Not when I was fueled by immortality. The hours felt like minutes and the seconds like nothing at all.
“I’ve learned to cope with it,” Apollo said. “I’ll be here with you. Try to ensure that your mind doesn’t break down.”
“Maybe I’m so broken that I can’t tell.”
“You’re not,” Apollo replied. I thought I heard a chuckle. “You’re stronger than you think, Cara. You should hold on to your vassals. On the off chance that you ever get to see them again.”
“Everything feels so… endless.”
“Such is the nature of immortality.”
Apollo left me then.
I was connected to everything, yet I’d never felt more alone.
Sixteen
Cara
Six months later
“Hey, Apollo,” I said, talking to the god lounging on a huge balcony. He had one leg folded over the other and was lying happily on a beach chair. He loved sunbathing. I wasn’t surprised by that. He was pretty much the sun. “You don’t really need a tan.”
“It’s not a tan I’m looking for,” he said. “I’m in my element. I’m enjoying the weather.”
I couldn’t feel it, but I was pretty sure the sun burned like a bitch and the folks nearby were complaining, staying in the shade to avoid Apollo’s strange like of heat.
I spent a lot of time with Apollo. I had many things to spend time with and all the hours in the world to do that. Having an expanded mind and no need to sleep did free up my time. Apollo was the only person who could hear me. He’d explained that it was because we shared essences, and that created a mental connection which made this possible.
Apollo sighed. “You don’t have to stick around here. Go wreck a bee colony or something.”
“All they ever do is buzz and make me miss eating honey.”
He shook his head and looked to the sky, pretending that he was looking at me. But I wasn’t up there. I existed everywhere. Sensed everything. I’d found myself in strange situations of all kinds. Like old people having sex. Having an omniscient presence made me highly aware of that. Oh, and there was a time when I got curious about the gross things people did in the toilets. I’d returned to Earth and stalked some of my old peers from the orphanage.
As the chiasma, I couldn’t really get disgusted, but I’d learned not to intrude into people’s privacy too much.
There were better things to look at.
Curious, interesting things. Like the cracking of cocoons as butterflies spread their wings, or the birthing of whales from their mothers’ wombs. Life was beautiful all around. I tried to appreciate it the best I could. It was the purpose of my whole existence, after all. To ensure that both worlds continued to live and flourish and grow.
After I became the chiasma, things had stopped turning to dust. The fields returned to their natural states, and farmers and villagers could return to their homes in peace, not fearing for their lives or wellbeing anymore. Lots of good things came about from my sacrifice. I’d made a difference. A huge one. I tried to find joy in that despite the crushing loneliness.
“Now I understand why you often got disappointed,” I said to Apollo.
“Hm?” He sipped his martini and set it down on the glass table next to his beach chair. “You haven’t existed long as the chiasma. I didn’t expect you to come to such observations so quickly.”
“You try to keep beings alive, but life exists in cycles. There must be balance. Where there’s good, there’s bad
. And you always try to ensure that there’s a net positive in the world, but wars, fires, burning—man and gods reflect each other. The ugly. It just keeps happening.”
Apollo paid more attention to his drink than my observation. “That’s the truth of existence.”
Just a few days ago, I’d watched a drunken man try to strangle his wife to death. At the same time, his son, for the love of his mother, asked his dad to hurt him instead. The man was too wasted to know what he was doing. His mother died in the end.
Gut-wrenching. Though I didn’t really have a gut to be wrenched.
“They’re idiotic sometimes,” Apollo said, swirling the martini glass. He picked out an olive and ate it. “But that’s why they’re so entertaining. Most living things are so blinded by their own desires that they don’t see the answers to happiness in front of them. You learn a lot watching and observing. You don’t have any other choice when that’s the only thing you can do.” He began twirling the toothpick. “And I’m guessing you’re starting to feel the annoyance? It’s a pain, isn’t it? Having all the knowledge in the world, seeing the problems and having the solutions while being unable to interact.”
“I’m just being used as a tool,” I said. “Just as the goddesses tried to use me. It’s happening on a bigger scale now.”
“Hm,” Apollo said. “It’s nice to have someone who can relate.” The door to the balcony swung open then, and two large bears ambled toward him. Apollo’s maids had allowed the bears in. They usually came to him around this time of day. They greeted him, using their snouts to nuzzle the sun god. “Hello, lovelies,” he said. “Were you fed well today?” Apollo had decided to name them. Solas and Imber. Solas was the male. He was twice the girth of his sister and was obviously Apollo’s favorite. He took them riding sometimes and would always mount Solas because he wouldn’t tire out quickly. I thought it was cool, especially when Apollo donned his battle armor and practiced with his spear, but all I could do as the chiasma was watch jealously at all the able-bodied things Apollo carried out.
Today, however, was a lazy day for Apollo and the bears. The creatures lounged next to him. They’d become accustomed to the sun, having grown up in it.
Apollo set his drink down and smoothed a hand down Imber’s neck. “Why don’t you visit your vassals?” he asked, peering at the sky again. “Check on how they’re doing.”
“The vassals…”
I drifted off, distracting my thoughts with a beautiful rainbow somewhere. Happy thoughts. I’d visited each of my vassals a few times over the last six months. Each time hadn’t been pleasant. All four of them had parted. I thought they might stick to each other and maybe cope with my absence with camaraderie.
Nope.
Seeing each other made them think of me. The gods, at Apollo’s request, had freed them from their vassal duties. Most vassals had been freed from their duties, actually. The rules had changed a lot after the old gods came back into power. They were trying to set things back into the old-world order. The old gods, apparently, had decided that their way was better, and since the goddesses couldn’t match their power, not even Clotho, they had all the say.
Apollo lifted an eyebrow. “I’m sure they miss you.”
“That’s what makes it painful. It’d be better for them if they forgot about me, but they’re stubborn about it. They still keep holding on to hope.” I considered how I’d take it if my vassals truly forgot about me. I’d probably be happy for them. That was what love was. Being able to let go when that was needed.
“I’m sorry, Cara,” Apollo said. “I’m not sure if my decision to change you into the chiasma was selfish. But I truly do care about the state of the world.”
If I could’ve nodded, I would have. “If not for your influence, Haven would have been much worse off.”
“I have the good of everything in mind. Minimize the pain. That is my creed. There’s enough suffering happening as it is.”
“Thank you.”
Apollo cocked his head. “What’s there to thank me for? I’m doing what I want. What I enjoy.”
“Saving the worlds?”
“Protecting what I’ve put so much of myself into. It’s a selfish decision. One might argue that everything we do is selfish.”
I considered his words. “You might act nonchalantly, but I think you’re a great guy.” Even if he’d cursed me to be the chiasma.
He snorted. “Great guy, huh? That’s a casual way to put it.” He flicked his fingers toward the exit. “I’m enjoying my afternoon,” he said. “You should leave me in peace so that I can continue thinking.”
“Thinking about what?” I asked.
“Must you be privy to my every thought now, Cara? Just trust me. I’m weaving something important. It’s related to you.”
I grew more curious, but Apollo continued basking in the sun.
“It wouldn’t hurt to tell me,” I said.
He lay there, completely still, enjoying the sunlight he’d created. I figured I shouldn’t bother him anymore, then pulled myself away from his presence. He was enjoying his peace with Solas and Imber. He should be allowed that, after spending so long keeping us alive as the chiasma. I respected Apollo, somewhat, even if I did hate him a little.
I traversed across the worlds, moving back to Earth. I went back to my hometown—the place where my orphanage had resided. I realized that, despite the endless locations at my disposal, I kept circling back to those places I’d grown familiar with. It was the work of my human consciousness.
I headed over to the hospital. The birthing unit, where all the babies were born. It reminded me that my actions allowed life to continue. Watching the joy on the mothers’ faces as they hugged their children to their breasts gave me great pleasure. I would smile at those sights if I could.
Eventually, however, I grew bored. As the chiasma, boredom was common. I wondered if I’d ever learn to cope with it, or if it’d start torturing me, until I grew sick in my mental prison. Six months wasn’t long. What would happen if this stretched on for hundreds or thousands of years? For eternity? Eternity seemed like an excruciating amount of time to be alone. Such was the price of unlimited power, I guessed. At least most of the gods would live forever, too. I could watch them, like characters in a play—only as a form of entertainment, never beings to interact with.
I tugged my consciousness back from Earth and moved it to Mount Olympus. That was the new headquarters of the gods that ruled. With the return of the old gods, the goddess council had been disbanded. The vassal system was overthrown, much to Aphrodite and Ares’s pleasure, even though the two weren’t happy at all, and a fresh system ruled by the Assembly of Gods had been put in place. Both males and females oversaw the balance between Haven and Earth. I thought that was a fairer system. No class of beings should be forced into servitude. I’d seen how that affected both worlds, human and magical.
The stained-glass windows of the goddess councils had been replaced with open-aired architecture. The gods ensured that it never rained in Olympus. Still, the multicolored plants never shriveled. They did wonders with their magic. Much of which was connected and fueled by me.
“I’m finished with this!” Aphrodite shouted. Her face turned red as she huffed. “It’s beneath me.”
My blood family had gotten what they wanted. Mother Nyx was back. The vassals ruled.
But really, that wasn’t exactly what they longed for. Ares wished for power with his vassals, and the gods had stripped that away. Neither Ares nor Aphrodite wielded any authority or magical powers. Hera’s gold leaves were wrapped around my mother’s wrists. The Assembly of Gods had taken over, and as punishment, love and war had to serve the next two hundred years as janitors.
Today, they had to ensure the pegasi were fed and had clean stables. That involved cleaning poop.
Deimos sighed as he picked up a stack of hay with a pitchfork. As he lacked power, his rocks no longer floated around him. Dressed in a brown tunic and a pair of cream slacks, he
appeared like a lowly commoner. He incited no sense of dread and fear anymore.
“You do this,” Aphrodite said, passing the poop scooper over to Ares. “I’m tired.”
Ares scowled, his bushy red eyebrows emphasizing his distaste. “It’s your shift. We agreed I’m allowed to take a break.”
“But I hate this!”
Ares rolled his eyes. “None of us are happy about the job. Deal with it.”
Deimos shook his head. He must be tired of hearing our parents bicker endlessly.
Aphrodite cursed and turned her attention to the pile of dung she had to take care of. She bent down and stared at the poop like it was her archnemesis. The goddess of love had stopped looking regal or elegant when she got this job.
There were little things I could do to make my presence known. Like an all-powerful poltergeist. I sent a small gust of power at the stack of hay next to my mother. It tossed the hay up and puffed in her face. Aphrodite shrieked, lost her balance, and was knocked off her feet. She landed on her ass. And, because she wasn’t paying attention, her hand sank into a piece of poop next to her.
I couldn’t smell it, but it must be horrible for her.
“Ugh!” Aphrodite shouted. “Ares!”
“What?” Ares asked. “Why are you so clumsy?” He took out a piece of bread from the sack slung over his shoulder and munched on it, studying his lover with indifference. “You should be more careful.”
Aphrodite pointed a finger Ares’s way. “This is your fault.”
“My fault? What did I do? You’re the one who fell.”
“I absolutely detest this,” Aphrodite said.
“You’ve made that known. I hear you. Loud and clear.” Ares sniffed. “Are you turning into a nag?”
“A nag? You’re calling me a nag?” Aphrodite’s anger made her unrecognizable.
Deimos looked away, inching closer to the shadows of the stable. He minded his own business and scooped another pile of hay.
Ares took another bite out of his bread. “You’re constantly repeating the same thing over and over again. That’s what a nag is.”
Reign of the Goddess Page 11
