The Runaway Rebels- Book 1

Prologue: Meet The Gods (Peace)

The year was 2014.

Dawn was sitting in the back of a large Amphitheatre, looking out to the blue skies above and absent-mindedly running a hand through her long hair.

Next to her, sat Vulcan, his arm around Aphrodite's shoulder as the two whispered to each other, laughing a little. They, like most in the upper rows, were happy to sit away from the others, in the pretence of caring about the meeting below.

"You alright, dear?" asked Aphrodite, as she and Vulcan turned a little.

"Sorry?" Dawn said, turning round and blinking distractedly.

"Head in the clouds?" laughed Vulcan, his mouth twitching slightly.

"It'd be hard for my head to be anywhere else while I'm here. What are they talking about now?" Dawn replied, chuckling slightly as she did.

"Oh, some land dispute. As always, they're talking about whatever they want," sighed Vulcan, his smile fading.

"Last I checked, they were discussing the importance of controlling our abilities, using them only for the best of reasons," Dawn said, seemingly uninterested.

"That's rich coming from them," scoffed Aphrodite, Dawn nodding in agreement as Vulcan frowned, the lines on his face becoming ever-more prominent.

"Next they'll be comparing the sizes of their statues," Dawn laughed.

Aphrodite chuckled as she gently squeezed Vulcan's arm, giving him an unreadable expression as the God turned to her, his returning smile somewhat dejected.

Dawn beamed at her father, who turned and gave her back a smile that seemed almost a little too stretched at the edges. However, before Dawn had a chance to question it, she heard a voice from beside her,

"Hello."

Turning around, Dawn's eyes saw the source of the voice. A figure whose face was framed with smooth white hair, his young appearance contrasting the deep lines of age in the colours of his brown irises.

"Caspian! Good to see you," exclaimed Dawn, a warm smile lighting up her face, before it was quickly cooled by the memory of her father's strange expression.

Telling her friend to wait just a second, Dawn turned back round once more, only to see her father chatting to her mother, supposedly fine. Relieved, if a little suspicious, the goddess turned back to where Caspian had sat next to her.

"So, how's everything with you?" Caspian said, his voice soft and diminished.

"Not bad," Dawn replied, her eyes wandering a little before she snapped her attention back to Caspian, turning his question back on him.

"You?"

"Things have been ok-" Caspian began, looking a little uncertain, before a large boot kicked his head from behind. At the attack, many pairs of eyes to look back up as the god yelled a little, groaning in pain.

The boot in question, belonging to a young god with long red hair, came crashing downwards again, only for Dawn to grab it with both hands, looking up into the eyes of the god above her pointedly. Realising he wasn't getting a second chance, the god lowered his foot, stumbling a little.

"Torsten. Of course it's you. What was that for?" Dawn asked, her brow furrowing as she stood up, a familiar expression of distaste crossing her features.

"I felt like it. You got a problem with that? Seeing as your friend here can't even stick up for himself."

"Shut up Torsten," Caspian retorted, his fists clenched at his sides and his dark eyes gleaming dangerously.

"Or what? What's she gonna do to me eh? She's as useless as you are."

"Oh really?" inquired Dawn, a sharp edge to her voice as she looked across Torsten and his cronies.

"Dawn."

Hearing a whisper from next to her, Dawn turned. There, she saw her father, his hand on her shoulder, as he continued to speak to her, "There's ways to handle this without violence. Please, if you're going to take one piece of advice from me, at least take this: conflict will always end in pain."

At his words, Dawn looked back into her father's face, into the eyes which seemed so desperately imploring, and nodded softly, turning back to Torsten, who was grinning wickedly.

"What? Need your daddy to come and help you? Can't anyone look after themselves around here?" The God of Lightning scoffed.

"Rich, coming from the god who follows his dad around so much. I'm surprised you haven't walked into him yet," Dawn retorted, the sides of her mouth twitching as laughter bubbled up from both sides.

"What's wrong? Too much of a wimp to try and fight me?" asked Torsten, in a somewhat wobbling jeer, his face now flushed red.

"Because I'd be such a wimp to take on three people by myself?" asked Dawn inquisitively, her mouth still slightly curled.

"You know..." Dawn began again, cutting over Torsten, "I wonder where your father is, I'm sure he'd just love to hear how you're causing trouble, instead of following his every whim."

"Shut up. I don't remember saying I wanted to talk to you," Torsten growled.

"I agree, I only remember you kicking my friend's head." Dawn responded shortly.

"What are you trying to say?" Torsten said, the flush of red spreading to the very edges of his face as his cronies huddled together, laughing coldly.

"Get out of here, Torsten," Dawn said coolly, keeping her gaze locked on the young god.

Torsten, looking bemused, turned to Caspian, as though looking for another answer.

"Don't look at me Torsten. I don't think she's asking twice," replied Caspian, with a smirk.

As his narrowed eyes fell to the ground, Torsten's feet shifted awkwardly, a few stray grumbles emerging from under his breath. Casually, Dawn raised an eyebrow as she watched Torsten slowly back away, heading back to where he had been sitting.

"Thank you," Caspian whispered to Dawn, his eyes trained on the ground as the gods beneath them looked back towards the meeting.

"It's no problem," smiled Dawn, nodding at Caspian. Looking up, the god smiled uncertainly back.

"He'll be embarrassed you know," said Caspian, after a pause, to a quick reply from Dawn,

"Oh I know."

"Aren't you worried he'll just keep trying to think of a comeback?" Caspian asked.

"He will, but will he ever find one? Now, that's a different question altogether," answered Dawn with a smirk, turning round to her parents and smiling happily.

But while that story travelled the Godlands faster than Hermes with his winged sandals, Pandora's story didn't make it past the Underworld. After all, why would her parents want anyone believing their own daughter might have a 'good side'?