Divine Destiny

by Hayley Todd

  The room was surrounded by twelve giant thrones, made of gold with plush red velvet cushions. Each one had a large portrait affixed to the wall behind it, each depicting the god that the seat belonged to. At its center were the thrones of Zeus and Hera, their images gazing down at the table from high above the seat backs.

  “Harmonia,” the woman seat midway down the table and across from me greeted. She stabbed a forkful of meat from her plate and plucked it into her mouth, gazing thoughtfully at me.

  “Sage,” I corrected. Her brilliant hazel green eyes narrowed on me. “How goes the hunt, Artemis,” I called to her, gazing at the trays of food before me. I lifted lids, scooping helpings onto my plate.

  A sly grin spread across the goddess’s face. She stabbed another forkful of food and quickly made it disappear. “The hunt goes well, Sage,” she replied, emphasizing my name subtly.

  I couldn’t help but grin. She hadn’t liked being corrected, but I appreciated the effort she put into addressing me properly. I was one of very few—if any—“gods” that didn’t feel as though they deserved such an address. The people may have given me a name but that too, I hadn’t earned. I was still Sage though even my own parents didn’t call me that.

  “Can’t you tell,” spoke the man to her right. He shared many features with Artemis, though his eyes glowed with a copper tone, they still reflected identical mops of auburn red hair. Where Artemis had pale white skin however, he held a deep tan. He stabbed his fork in the direction of the centermost tray which held a large hunk of meat, smoke and prepared for feasting.

  I admired the smell it emanated, my stomach growling impatiently. “Excellent,” I replied. “It looks delicious.” I gave Artemis an admonishing nod, reaching over and picking up the knife laid on the end of the tray. I sliced a piece of meat off and deposited it on my plate with the rest. I cut a piece with my fork, popping it into my mouth. The flavor exploded on my every taste bud, filled with juicy spices and delicious texture. There was a slight aftertaste of the human blood it had been soaked in.

  Humans often began rumors of the ambrosia of the gods and how it was forbidden to eat or drink of it. They thought it was something miraculous. In reality it was just all made with human blood. But my god-like relatives couldn’t have that little tidbit exposed lest others become like us so they encouraged the spiraling legends.

  The man beside Artemis whispered something to her, then pushed his chair away from the table, rising. He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek and looked me over as he departed. “Goodbye, Sage,” he said with a smile. “I will see you at the meeting.” The doors clicked shut as he left, a small smile writhing it’s way onto my lips.

  “Oh, Apollo, and his way with women,” Artemis chimed with a laugh. I shared it with her for a moment before we lapsed into silence.

  “The meat is excellent,” I told her, chewing on another chunk. She smiled and nodded her appreciation at the comment.

  The doors at the end of the room slammed open, a barrage of others traipsing in. Zeus led the group, clapping me on the shoulder almost painfully as he past. He gave the table an appraising glance as he sauntered over and slouched into his throne.

  Hers was quick on his heels, followed immediately by Athena. They each found their seats as red eyed servants darted about the room, filling plates and bringing them to each of the gods on bended knee. The three of them dug in greedily, barely sparing Artemis or myself a glance.

  As Athena cleared the last bit of food on her plate, she shot her eyes to mine. “That was some exit, Harmonia,” she said. The name grated against my nerves but she knew that. I was sure it was why she did it.

  Zeus exploded in a roaring laugh, slamming a golden chalice against the arm of his chair. “It was, indeed,” he chuckled, “you didn’t even stay to see their charbroiled expressions.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “And you should’ve heard the rumors already pouring over the army about how Zeus had been angered and smote his enemies so handily,” Hera chimed, downing her own glass of blood laced wine.

  I had to choke down a lump of jealousy that filled me for a moment. I didn’t care to be a “god”. Truly I would have simply preferred being left alone and allowed to live my own life, finding joy and adventure and love where I may. I usually didn’t mind Zeus taking credit for my abilities but I did wonder, just for a moment, if my mother and father—and my opposite, Eris—knew that the explosion of anger hadn’t been his.

  Zeus cleared his throat as servants scattered about the room. One swept my empty plate from in front of me, dropping a clean one in its place before scampering away through a side exit. “Harmonia, will you be joining us for the War Council this evening?” he asked, swallowing another gulp of red liquid.

  I gazed at him from the corner of my eye wanting so badly to tell him know. But I knew that while he had phrased it as a question, it hadn’t truly been one. I would be expected there, solidifying our coalition with my presence. “I will be there,” I said through gritted teeth. I pulled my lips away from my gums in a way that may have appeared as a smile but was filled with irritation and disdain.

  I had been appointed the god of harmony and order but my only true interest in this war with the Trojans was in defiance to my parents and my only actual enemy amongst our ranks. Was it ironic for a god displayed as peaceful and pure to be involved in a pointless war out of rebellion? Perhaps. I merely hoped that if I could defeat my parents in this involvement, that perhaps I would walk away from my freedom. Perhaps not.

  Zeus chuckled another laugh, turning to Hera and speaking quietly with her. I caught pieces of their words though they were merely a hushed whisper. I wished I hadn’t. The words were salacious and provocative and not something I had expected for them to discuss amongst mixed company. It nearly made me feel sick. I pushed away from the table, snatching up a goblet and a cask of wine, pouring it to the lip and replacing the bottle.

  “We will see you this evening!” Zeus called after me as I left the room. I nodded but rolled my eyes, knowing he couldn’t see it. I shot Artemis an apologetic look as I departed and she grinned, knowingly, with a quick glance at Hera who was staring openly at her.

  I headed back out into the hall, the doors slamming shut behind me.

  And immediately crashed into someone’s chest. I grunted, nearly falling back from the blow but a strong hand clasped my upper arm, holding me in place. I glanced up a long, exposed chest riddled with muscle up to a young face, with pale blue eyes, staring down at me.

  “Hermes,” I gasped, lurching away from him. He grinned and it danced somewhere on the line of sweet and mischievous. I didn’t know Hermes well. He spent most of his time delivering souls to the afterlife, carrying messages to and from both gods and mortals, and doted regularly on those he was the patron of--mostly travelers, some which were quite an unsavory lot. I wasn’t sure he was entirely trustworthy. The idea of being alone with him had a shiver rippling over my spine.

  “Harmonia,” he replied in a deep, unexpected baritone. I hadn’t anticipated him knowing who I was either and it was a bit disturbing. He grinned down at me. He was scantily clad, his chest bare, a white toga like cloth tied around his hips. He wore the rumored winged sandals on his feet but otherwise, his skin was bared to the world. He was deeply tanned which I hadn’t expected either. “I was looking for you,” he said which had another unnerved shiver running down my form.

  “Oh?” I asked, trying to play off how nervous he made me. He didn’t need to know that.

  He nodded vigorously, not taking his eyes off of me while he dove a hand into the satchel slung over his chest, digging around inside. It took him several moments to find what he was looking for. He produced a scroll, tied with a gentle piece of thread. He gripped the parchment in his hand, looking me over before slipping the bow loose and unraveling the paper.

  “The goddess Eris requests your presence after the meeting this evening,” he announced cordially. “She wishes to present you with
a peace offering and urges you to accept her invitation.” With the word “urges” he gave me a pointed look. Once he was done, he wrapped the scroll back up and held it out to me.

  I took the paper eagerly, distracted when my fingertips brushed his. I felt a cool breeze swell through the room, though I seemed to be the only thing affected by it. It danced across my neck, lifting my hair and sweeping it across one shoulder. My dress ruffled beneath me and I shoved one hand against its front, keeping its hem low to the floor. My cheeks erupted with flame. I glared up at him.

  He grinned at me and averted his eyes, looking around the room casually.

  I unfolded the paper, reading the words which more or less mimicked his pronouncement. Instead of “urges you to accept” however, the scroll read “she will regret not attending me.” Power hungry crazies. I shook my head exasperated. It was...trying to live in a world amongst creatures who expected to be treated as gods because others had deemed it so. I didn’t find us to be especially remarkable and disagreed strongly with the assessment.

  I made quick work of rolling the scroll back up, and handing it back to Hermes. “You can let Eris know that I will meet her,” I replied, looking into those fathomless blue eyes. He smiled, creases appearing along his cheeks. It made him look young, boyish even. If I didn’t know of Hermes’ trickster (and salacious) ways, I would almost be attracted to him. “Thank you for delivering the message.”

  He nodded, bowing deeply and grasping my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “Oh, Harmonia, I would do anything if only to spend another moment with you.”

  I fought not to jerk my hand away from him. My skin crawled with the words. I was very much privy to his ways and how he liked to shower women with attention. “Please,” I urged him, quickly changing the subject, “call me Sage.”

  He glanced up at me, curiously, straightening himself. “Sage?” He asked, one eyebrow cocked.

  I nodded. “Before all this Harmonia stuff, my name was Sage. I like to be identified as Sage whenever possible. Especially amongst my equals.”

  He gazed at me, looking carefully, as though waiting for me to deliver the punchline. I could feel anger building in my body.

  Just before I could snap and tell him exactly how his judgemental expression made me feel, he spoke, standing straight, his posture rigid. “I see,” he replied thoughtfully. “You may address me as Adonis if you wish.”

  I gaped at him. Adonis? Seriously?

  After a moment of uncomfortable, awed silence, he spoke up again. He sighed, “Yes, Adonis. You do not have to call me such if it makes you uncomfortable.” He ran a hand anxiously through golden curls atop his head but those blue eyes peered at me with such scrutiny my heart began to race.

  “The Adonis?” I asked.

  He laughed. “Not exactly. I mean, I am obviously a glorious specimen.” I rolled my eyes, chucking him on the shoulder with a gentle fist. He drew up abruptly, gazing down at me in confusion. I couldn’t fight the small grin that crept on my face. When he saw that, he relaxed, realizing that the blow had been in jest. “It was my name, before all this,” he continued, waving a hand at our environment.

  “Hermes, what’s taking you so lon-” came Hera’s voice from my back. I whirled, taking a step farther from Hermes. I hadn’t realized how closely I had drifted, my body merely inches from his. I glanced up at her, my face burning beneath her inquisitive gaze. “Ah, I’m sorry to have interrupted,” she said, starting to turn.

  Hermes reached forward, past me, catching the door before it closed. “I had a message for...Sage,” he said, glancing at me. “I actually just finished delivering it. Will that be all?” he asked, looking me over.

  “Where?” I asked, not explaining the question. He knew what I meant.

  “The courtyard, after dark,” he replied with a smile.

  I gave him a weak grin and watched him enter the room, encompassing Hera in an embrace.

  Chapter Six

  I was shaken away, hands clamped on my shoulders and my eyes flew wide. I searched the dark room, expecting Hermes’ handsome face to peer at me. Instead, Carson hovered over me, staring deeply into my eyes. He knew. I could tell immediately that he knew.

  “She’s back?” He asked, pulling away once he knew I was awake. He sat at the foot of the bed, watching me, carefully.

  I gazed at him, wondering how much I should tell him. I knew my experiences with Achillia unnerved him. Slowly, I shook my head. “It’s not Achillia,” I said, watching the shock and confusion pass over his face. I could see it in his eyes. He was scared.

  I pressed my palm to his cheek, wanting nothing more than to take that pain away. “It’s not. It’s really not Achillia. It’s...someone else,” I said.

  He tilted his head curiously, staring at me. “Someone else?”

  I nodded. “A woman named Harmonia...Er...Sage,” I explained hesitantly. Carson and I were close. Close in a way that rivaled my relationships with Kellic and Will. But the dreams...visions...were frightening sometimes.

  We had determined, based on what I could explain of Achillia and...the other woman, that I was somehow connected to these Magick women from the past that seemed to share my unique abilities. I could periodically step foot into their lives. It was…surreal.

  “She talked about Trojans and everyone around her were Greek gods. First she was on a battlefield—“

  “A battlefield?” He asked, interrupting me.

  I nodded. “She was with people that she called by Greek gods names. There was Hera and Athena and Zeus,” I trailed off, struggling to catch my breath. I hadn’t realized I’d been burbling words out in a panic until I found my lungs empty of air.

  He grabbed my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. He was warm, the kind of warm you wished you had while playing in the snow. He had a comfortable temperature, like sitting before a bonfire.

  Unlike myself, Carson wasn’t a pure blood vampire. He had been born an incubus to a woman that he had told me was a witch, giving him mixed powers. Decades later, he had been put through a spell that shrouded his memories and used the blood of the warrior, Achillia, to infuse him with a touch of Magick. It had melded into his very DNA, altering him further. He was fast, strong, and held an inhuman draw when he wanted to, exposing his incubus side but also filling him with a furious hunger. He maintained careful control of it, always desperate to lock his power down for fear of what he may do if he released it.

  Damien theorized that he may contain more alteration that simply that but so far, we had no evidence of it. The only person with a clear understanding of some of the interim years was his father, a high ranking noble in the incubus court. I hadn’t met him but he and Carson didn’t have much of a relationship these days. I didn’t know that I ever would.

  I collapsed into his arms, sobbing into his chest. I hadn’t given myself permission to cry, but the tears exploded from me.

  The door slammed open, a figure hovering there, coated in shadow. Anton stepped forward, concern painted on his face. He leapt to my side without a word and Carson scrambled to drag the sheets over my bare chest. There was a gentle anger on his eyes.

  I could just barely see Kellic, wrapped tightly in a robe, watching us from the doorway. There was pain and exhaustion and...jealousy in her eyes.

  My heart thumped uncomfortably in my chest.

  Anton knelt beside me, his dark hair a tousled mess atop his head. His amber eyes sought something, anything in my face.

  “Are you okay?” He gasped finally, clutching my hand in his. The look of worry in his eyes clenched my heart further. I hated doing this to him. I hated what it did to Kellic.

  I nodded sharply, tears still bursting from my eyes and rolling down my cheeks. He lifted his hand and brushed a drop away with his thumb.

  “You don’t seem okay,” he said, glancing up at Carson.

  Carson’s face was tight, his mouth twisted in fury, his green eyes blazing. His hands were clenched into fists on his lap and I could feel t
he tense restraint in his shoulders.

  “I’m fine,” I replied, pulling away when he loosened his grip. Carson made quick work of pulling me into his lap, tucking the sheets protectively around me.

  “She’s seeing things again,” he growled, tucking my head under his chin. He hand stroked my bare arm, the other running over my hair. He pressed a gentle kiss there and I tried desperately to silence the shaking within me.

  Anton looked alarmed. He had his head leaned carefully beneath me where he could see my face. “Achillia?” He asked, glancing up at Carson again.

  I didn’t see it, but I felt Carson shake his head above me. “A new one,” Carson said stiffly.

  Anton went rigid.

  “What do you mean, a new one?” Kellic asked from the door. She hadn’t entirely entered the room, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest.

  Carson glanced at her but I managed to reply first.

  “Her name was Sage, but...she was called Harmonia too. She was with a bunch of other people on a battlefield.” That seemed to be the most relevant part right now. I still felt uncomfortable talking about them, as though I were uttering my darkest secrets, of devil gong stories that weren't mine to tell. “Hera, Zeus, Athena, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Ares...Eris? I think she said Eris.” I shivered at the thought of the strange, silent woman. She gave me chills, her personality deep and dark.

  She was actually the only one of them that I wasn’t especially familiar with, aside from Harmonia herself.

  They were all staring silently at me. My hands clutched the bedsheets unconsciously, breathing harder.

  “Have you told Damien?” Anton asked, looking directly over my head at Carson. If I hadn’t felt so freaked out, I might have been miffed at him for speaking as though I weren’t there.

  Carson shook his head. “She just woke up. Though it took a few shakes to draw her out of it,” he leaned me back, looking over me carefully. My tears had mostly stopped by now but he reached up, dashing an errant one.