TAMING APOLLO | completed

52. is only

52. is only

G A Y L E

THE sword drops onto the ground as my heart continues to thud against my chest. I watch as my vision blurs and the blood pounds in my ears.

I take a step back, fingers trembling. The coppery smell of the crimson liquid that has been spewing from the skies and onto me finally gets the better of me and floods my senses.

I take a deep breath, suddenly realizing how helpless and weak I really am.

I was a fool to think that I could help.

Iapetus continues to crush Poseidon and Nike between chains of thorns.

Their howls of pain contribute to my blood pounding through my ears, making it the most painful experience.

Their bodies convulse and writhe on the ground. It doesn't help that the rain splatters their bodies, mingling in with their golden blood.

My eyes well with tears.

"This all stops when you reveal yourself, mortal." A strident tone breaks my concentration and my gaze focuses back on the figure before me.

He looks like Oceanus, only older and with a darker, more serious look on his face. I watch as his alabaster skin continues to be coated with crimson rains and his eyes scan the area for me.

"Don't!" Poseidon screams between convulses, his voice sounds as if getting it out of his throat is the hardest thing he's had to do. His face is coated in ichor and blood, but he remains firm, his deep brows furrowing in determination. "Whatever happens, Gayle, do not let up! Get out of here! Get to Apollo. You can still save us."

A hearty laugh echoes throughout the streets as the war wages on in the background, the sounds of swords clanging against each other drowned out by the laugh.

It comes from Iapetus.

"You would leave your friends here to die, while you escape? I knew mortals were cowardly but this– this is comical."

My fingers tremble as I nod, tears streaming down my hot cheeks as I turn to leave, but something about Nike's tortured screams keeps me rooted to the spot like a tree.

I need to overcome this.

I need to prove that I'm not completely useless.

I have to think of a plan.

What can I do?

If I move to pick up the sword, Iapetus will know where I am and attack me himself. It's already a miracle he didn't hear me drop it amidst of all this chaos.

I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to come up with a plan but nothing comes to mind, but when I open them I feel relief flood over me.

In my hand is the hilt to Bellator, my katana.

It slices through the air as I attempt to get a good hold on it, and suddenly a little bit of the confidence I'd lost at the beginning of this war return to me a little.