Heart of a Spartan

Apollo wants me to tell You that he doesn't like you

Pythia notices belatedly that Leon's touch doesn't hurt her this time, but before she can test to see if it was just a one-time thing, Leon is leaning against the wall opposite her. Watching her closely, Leon has a perfect poker face. It unsettles her. She moves her gaze to the ceiling, thinking about the newest discussion that she had with Apollo. He told her the time was soon, but never said exactly when, probably decided to leave it up to her to make the call.

Leon doesn't make a sound, Pythia can't even hear him breathe, and it seems like he's waiting for something. Which he is, he's waiting for her to foretell his fate. But here's the thing, Pythia has never been good as wording things in a way that makes sense, so trying to repeat the words Apollo says to her is a challenge to say the least. Leon makes a coughing sound and Pythia is back to looking at him.

"Pythia is a special name, very unique too," Leon says nonchalantly when he has her attention, "There were stories back in Greece about such a name," he says clearly making obvious hints that he knows only an Oracle would truly catch onto. "The story was that she was the mouth of Apollo," he implicates with a heavy emphasis on Apollo's name, and she looks with big round eyes. Well there was no doubt, both their assumptions were correct, and anyone could tell by the egotistical smirk that Leon had that he never doubted his assumptions, Pythia on the other had always did. "It's nice to meet you face to face Oracle, you've had me hunting for you for five years now. Not what I was expecting though," he says with a grimace after his evaluation of her.

"Well, we don't hide away in temples anymore, and most people don't believe in fortune tellers," Pythia snides back. Before Pythia was nervous because she felt embarrassed, now she's nervous because she sits in front of a future killer. It always baffled her why she liked the Heir so much, he kills people, and gets what he deserves later, yet she was helplessly interested and maybe even a little infatuated with him. "I didn't expect the Heir to look like some pretty boy, football jock," Pythia remarks sarcastically, a return jab for the judgmental look he gave her.

"You think I'm pretty?" he asks sarcastically, and Pythia snarls at him. "It's to blend in, can't walk around looking like a psychotic killer now can I?" Pythia doesn't answer, just because he doesn't look it doesn't mean that that isn't what he is. "But that's what you expected me to look like, isn't it?" She doesn't answer again, and Leon goes silent again.

"You don't look the way that Apollo described you to be, so even if I knew about you I would never be able to pick you out in a crowd. Besides you were meant to seek me out, and I was never really hiding," Pythia grumbles, wishing that she could erase all her past feelings for the Heir, they made her feel stupid now. Yeah, maybe he looks attractive being a pretty boy jock, but his personality is severely lacking.

"There is actually a lot of people named Pythia, many in Greece alone. Granted though only a handful are born during the summer eclipse." Leon was now sitting in the chair by the cot, and was pinning Pythia with his gaze. "You were my sixth, I must say if I had known it was this fast I wouldn't have wasted my time with the others," Leon says with a dark look. It send shivers down her spine, because when he has that look it is every bit the picture Apollo depicted when he would talk about the Heir's downfall. "So, little Oracle, what is my fate?" he asks, his fake friendly look is back. They lock gazes, and Pythia swallows the lump in her throat.

"The Heir will bring back the prosperity of his clan, with death, both his own and those he will take with him to Hades. The Heir must stop the madness leaking through from the Old World into the New World, and eliminate those plagued by it," Pythia says is quickly and she blushes because it sounds ridiculous and cliché. Leon leaned closer while she was speaking, and a grown had frown on his face.

"That's it?" He asks exasperatedly, and Pythia blinks.

"Well, it's the short version," is all she says in response.