𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 || 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙮 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙨𝙤𝙣¹

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 - 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙...

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"LET ME, M'LADY."  Zoë Nightshade offered stubbornly. "It is the least I could do for thee. After causing thee much trouble. I did not mean for this, this woman —"

Artemis held up her hand for silence. Zoë, although looking like she wanted to say a million things, stayed quiet as the goddess rose from her throne. She didn't look much intimidating — in fact, in this form, Zoë towered over her.

But looks can be deceiving.

Everything about a person, and anything about a person, cannot be real, cannot be true. Nobody would even consider a twelve-year old girl with silver Greek robes and auburn-braided hair could be a goddess — even though she was certainly sporting the attire of one.

Only few knew that, the young girl in silver Greek robes and auburn-braided hair was — in fact — Artemis. Goddess of the Hunt — and among other things, that most mortal men wouldn't dream of keeping track of.

She doesn't blame them — she doesn't exactly keep track, either. Though that doesn't mean she doesn't want to blast every single man —

"I shall be the one to do it." Artemis repeated firmly. "Even though it was your mistake, Zoë, I will not let you solve it. The gods know your way would end in bloodshed."

Zoë bit back a retort. "But, m'lady —"

"That is enough, now," Artemis interrupted. "This matter is small —"

"Exactly why I should deal with it —"

"— and can be resolved quicker by me than you. You are dismissed, Zoë." The goddess finished rather calmly. Before Zoë could even really protest, Artemis flicked her wrist, and her lieutenant disappeared in a flash of grey light.

As soon as Zoë had gone, Artemis felt her tensed-up body relax tremendously. She sat back onto her silvery throne with a sigh — half-heartedly patting a tiger's head as it rubbed up against her.

It was, at times like these, she hated being a goddess. It was at times like these where she wished she was a regular mortal girl going into sixth grade — not an all-knowing, all-powerful Greek goddess who could fly you to the moon to suffocate if she wanted to.

But she wasn't that heartless. Not yet, anyway.

She wanted to experience things only mortals could — friends. Fun. Shopping. Prom. Significant others. Marriage.

Love.

The goddess immediately straightened and did a sharp intake of breath at the risky, unrelated and rancid thought. Her hands gripped her throne as if it were her lifeline. The tiger besides her stirred uneasily.

Once she put a halt to those racing thoughts, she sighed again — a steady hand on her chest.

For many millennia, she has always despised romantic love. The slow-burn, the awkward stages, the climax...then the heartbreak. It was repetitive, confusing, chaotic, and saddening, and she had no idea why she was the only god who felt that way.

Artemis figured she was better off alone. She was better off with her own thoughts, worries and wishes — without having to balance anyone else's. She was perfectly fine that way, and stayed perfectly fine for thousands of years.