TAMING APOLLO | completed

51. the end

51. the end

G A Y L E

THEY say that your last day is always perfect.

I'd like to say I disagree, but now that I think back to it, no matter how hard I try to see the faults, I can't.

His eyes were the first thing I saw when I opened mine, and I was in his arms. My heart leapt with joy at the sight of his gorgeous grey eyes, once the colour of ash and despondency, now they resembled the grey of a hawk's wings as they flapped in the wind, they reminded me of snowflakes drifting down from the sky.

He smiled, an image I promised myself I'd never forget and had engraved into my very being, my essence as he leaned down and peppered soft, warm kisses onto my lips.

Apollo laced his fingers between mine, and descended his sweet rosy lips upon them, leaving behind a trail of warm, soft kisses. It felt like butterflies would bloom upon every place his lips touched and I felt my core swarm with butterflies... but not only that, I felt a wave of calm wash over me as I softly cupped his cheek in my hand, and I knew then that this was meant to be,  that nothing could ever ruin this moment.

It didn't matter what would happen later, that these same hands that cupped Apollo's soft pale cheek would be drenched in blood of all kinds, that they'd be black and blue and everything else. All that mattered was this moment, and it felt eternal. And it would stay with me forever.

It was almost too perfect, when I sat down for breakfast with Ariel and Poseidon and maybe I laughed a little too hard at their jokes. I remember seeing Hades rub his fingers over his wife's pregnant belly with pure bliss in his eyes as she said something silly about mortal inventions.

I remember how we all laughed.

I remember the joy I felt from organizing our strategy during the day, from putting on my battle suit, from clutching the sword given to me by Ariel with pride.

I remember grabbing onto the hilt and swinging the bronze and steel sword in the air with ease, newfound and powerful. I felt a blast of energy under my skin, doused in a new found determination.

So now here I am, in front of the gates leading into Mount Olympus, with clouds beneath my feet and a sword between my fingers.

Apollo is at my side, completely covered in battle armour just like I am, but instead of a sword, he's wielding the fabled adamantine sickle that can kill Kronos.

The silver metal of the weapon glimmers in the moonlight, as Ariel squeezes through the crowds to the front.

Behind us is an army of the undead, I'm talking thousands of skeletons and ghouls– dark, soulless creatures without faces that vibrate on frequencies so dark you can barely see them. The only thing there are brief glimpses of silhouettes wielding their own swords.

Hades is stood before them, explaining something to them in so ancient forgotten tongue with a giant two-pronged spear in his hands.

I think it's called a bident.

I exhale, trying to quell the fear I suddenly feel upon realizing how real this is.

We are stood at the entrance leading into Mount Olympus, where a giant puffy gate which looks to be made of silver and gold is firmly locked tight.