The Inhumane ~(Previously named Greek Gods: Civil War)

VII. Of Arrows and Play-doh

[Picrew of Artemis above!]

[Also, Ace/Aro Pride ya'll!]

It was either the most perfect place to relax and find wisdom deep in oneself, or the most perfect place in the world to silently die without anyone in this world noticing.

Artemis took a deep breathe, slowly breathing in and out, looking all around the little cottage in the middle of these woods ... it just fit into its setting so well it seemed like if the little house had been there for thousands of years, minding its own business, completely unaware of anything concerning the outside world.

In other words, it was the perfect place. If one of her Hunters hadn't discovered the suspicious disturbance in this usually secluded part of the forest, Artemis probably would have completely missed this.

She cautiously walked around a small garden, her feet barely making a sound as she held her bow tightly in her hand, taking precaution to already having the moves of attack memorized in her head, would anything ever to happen.

Stepping over a bench covered completely in moss and vines, Artemis slowly crept up to a window, and slowly looked in, wanting to know if what her hunter had said was true ... and inside, she saw a tiny, yellow and blue porcelein aesthetic kitchen, a messy living room, books scattered here and there, and finally the view of an old, sad looking woman, laying down in her quit-covered bed, apparent thanks to the bedroom door being half-open.

Artemis glanced over to the dirty, empty chimney and wondered to herself,

...Could she have been right ...? How do we know indeed that this is the goddess...? If I could get closer, I would be able to recognize her ... but there is no fire in the chimney ..."

At that moment, Artemis suddenly heard the old woman give suddenly a wild, high-pitched scream, like the one of someone just being stabbed, making Artemis suddenly jump up, to see perfectly through the window, and saw the woman sitting up, eyes clenched close, and hugging herself while her form seemed to be stretched in different directions while being transparent, all the while that she kept on screaming in anguished pain.

Artemis bolted to the door, just a few yards away, and threw it open (it wasn't even locked to begin with) and ran straight in while pulling her satchel off her shoulder and then pulling out a bottle of extremely concentrated nectar, before then putting an arm around the woman and then surprising her instantly with pouring a small stream of it into her mouth.

The woman's form immediately went back to normal, and it seemed like if she had suddenly de-aged a few decades, before she put her hands on her face and began to softly sob, making Artemis then gently sliding her hand along her shoulder and saying in a gentle, calm voice,

"It's alright, shhh, you're fine now, you're fine now, Hestia ..."

.

..

...

"Any honey for your tea?"

"If you please..."

Hestia nodded and turned back to the kitchen counter, where she was, quietly as always, hospitably preparing her and Artemis' tea, hair now tied back in a braid and wearing an apron that seemed a little too big for her small frame.

Artemis kept eyeing Hestia closely from the rickety table where she was, and, even with Hestia's swift recovery, she could notice that Hestia, older form notwithstanding, still looked unnaturally pale and sick, with sad, almost dead eyes and bald spots creeping in all over her hair, and shaky hands that had trouble keeping the honey pouring without spilling.