Beauty/Tragedy | Percy Jackson

A Mortal God

The Rest
BY Jane Huffman

Still, I keep myself, I take

to bed. One lung is red. Cut red

flowers hung in pink water.

My other lung is out of  line.

From one lung, I tell the truth.

From the other lung, I lie.

Cut pink flowers hung in red water.

Like a pain, the truth is mine.

The lie is that today I want to die.

Cut red water hung in pink flowers.

The rest of it is stillness, rest.

A soft cough into a hard pan.

A hard cough into a soft plane.

Cut pink water hung in red flowers

Apollo had messed up.

It was one way of putting the fact that he thought that he was playing a game, but he took the cowards way out and ran tail tucked when he witnessed with much horror as Kymopoleia's form crumpled and changed into mist.

He had just appeared, and he did not even waste a second before flashing away, uncaring of Perseus' state.

He left the demigod at death's door and ran for the sake of his immortality.

His infuriation for the son of Poseidon did not go so far to risk the wrath of the god.

He was playing a game. It was never supposed to this, because you do not "play" war. And, Apollo had just initiated one.

Dear Fates. Was it time to pick sides again? Would it look too obvious if he sides with the demigod? He didn't want to be caught.

He would think later. Now, it was time to act like an innocent god that he was.

He crouched at Perseus' bedside. Eyes followed his every movement. He was no stranger to attention, most of the time he basked in it, but not this time of the day. It left him feeling like not only mortals, but invisible divine beings were hiding in mortal flesh to spy on him.

It was not unthinkable. Gods are rather dramatic and can be petty, plus Apollo has enough enemy who would wish to be who he is to coupe a plan to reveal his secret or try to set him up for something he didn't do (in their perspective, but he had actually just initiated a war.)

Well, think later, work now.

A brush of his fingertips against Perseus' forehead was enough to rid him of the fever. Even in his state of unconsciousness, his body seemed to relax and his breathes evened out.

Just for a moment, Apollo was tempted to summon the food of the gods to speed the demigod's healing but with that, also burn more of his mortality. Alas, he did not wish to be caught. Not now, not in the near future.

He prayed to his mighty self that this act would go unseen by the three fates. Dear him, otherwise, it would be chaos.

Chaos for him, that is. He could image others just lounging on their thrones and enjoy the show as Apollo got the talk of his immortal life from his immortal father because he had pissed off the fates who would then rain their rage on the king and he would in turn direct all his anger caused by anyone else included him... on him. What an exhausting thought.

Apollo decided to push that possibility to the back of his mind too. Ignorance is bliss.

Instead of ruining his life any more than he already had, Apollo chose the easier way out.

He murmured a blessing, loud enough for the prince and princess present in the chamber to hear. Now, if Apollo purposely spoke the words in a mix of five different languages to confuse everyone and to have a little bit of fun he was allowed right now. Enjoy little moments, it was one of his mantras. Especially, if you're stuck in middle of almost causing a war. Again.

Stressful.

He assured the crown prince that the demigod will be back to the world of waking soon enough and quickly flashed away after he was promised a sacrifice in his glory.

He just felt like staying in his sun palace for a while. No reason.

Maybe he'll consider a trip to Delois too, who knows?

The day Perseus woke up, a flicker of hope came into existence.

Finally, their ships would sail because Poseidon wouldn't dare drown them if his son constantly prayed to him to spare his loved ones from a gruesome death.

The curse could not be taken back, but the outcomes could be changed.

After sacrificing the last of their remaining grain to the god of the sea, they embarked on their journey.

Five ships set sail, all crowded with scared mortals, but they all stood in silence at the time of the day when the demigod stood in front of their custom alter and prayed to his father for a safe passage to Agatha.

The crown prince and his wife stood at Perseus' each side, giving him an unspoken support while the king of the drowning city stood far back, watching them sacrifice precious food.

For survival, they will have to starve.

While the sea tried to swallow then multiple time, they emerged through the giant waves without a scratch on them.

Their efforts were being fruitful, it meant.

That was one thing, being saved from the threat they had seen coming. But, by the time when everyone was settled in the thought of a further peaceful journey, seasickness snatched their peace.

Empty stomachs, weak legs, heavy head.

By the time they had reached Agatha, the land of the kingdoms in-laws, many had suffered a slow death, while some were nearing the edge.

Oh, how it must have affected the divine prince, for he was the only one who stood healthy. His gracious people did not blame him, they said that his divine blood was reason, nothing he can do about it.

If only Perseus could feel the same.

Kallias should have asked for more from the god of healing.

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A short update since I've been unable to make some time for writing. The ending is a bit... everywhere(?) *fingers crossed* hope it wasn't too bad.

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Happy New Year!!! I hope your 2023 becomes a year you're proud of whenever you look in hindside <3