Father was back.
Father was back and Semelē was glowing with mageia as if she would attack him if he got too close.
Once Mother had gotten word to Father of what happened, he raced down to their home to see it for himself. Not that it was too easy as Semelē refused to let go of the diádēma once it had been returned to her. She had placed it onto her head and actually hissed at him when he tried to remove it.
She had backed herself into a corner.
Kymopoleia and Tritôn blocked one exit while Benthesikymê and Rhodê blocked the other but- but Perseús knew his sister better than anyone else. She was not the one trapped within the room, and if they tried to get any closer, she would prove it so.
She was always the more craftier of the two.
Their parents switched tactics, calling for all of their seers to come to the palace that very minute. But-Perseús already knew how that was going to end.
He could see it after all.
Even when Makar slipped through the window behind her, he kept quiet watching as his sister lashed out. Hands coming up to block his attacks, pushing him away and pulling him in as they fought. Semelē always looked as if she were choreographing an alluring dance as she fought.
Perseús took hold of Makar as her next strike sent him flying into his embrace. His hands clamped down like steel onto the elder's arms, and Semelē fell into a parade rest content in knowing that he would not allow for another attack.
He stared at her as she turned away from their family. He understood it well as he pushed Makar away from him to walk closer to her. She tensed and relaxed in the same breath, eyes drawn to the agora below them.
The diádēma looked beautiful atop her head; elegant and graceful as if it always meant to be there.
Tritôn had paled when he first saw it, air stolen away from his lungs. The crown of Thalassa brought back dark memories for the House of Poseidôn.
Perseús looked at their Family, frantic as they tried to figure out what this meant. So many of their seers fled into the palace whether their skill was grand or just a mere fledgling. Grandfather Nêreus. Aunt Thetis. Lord Prôteus. The Graiai. Lady Eidothea. Lady Eurybiê.
Twas doing them no good. No matter the methods... no matter the numerous attempts... none could see the twins any longer.
Their threads upon the great tapestry drew shadows, hidden away from nearly all that tried to lay glances on them.
Nearly.
Perseús could see them, weaving around the two like nooses, teasing the edges of their mind. What was the mortal saying? Ah, " just enough rope to hang themselves ". He couldn't see it all, but he saw more than the others. There was pain. There was betrayal. Monsters - and he knew it didn't mean the beasts that scoured the land from Tartara. There was heartache and pain. His sister's eyes flashed with murderous intent as she fought another enchantress. Blood coated his own face as he squeezed and squeezed and squeezed. Those little campers from both ends of the States. Death - something that was supposed to be impossible for such undying beings; faded, yes? But Death? Twas not something he had thought but sheared threads trailed around.
And in the end, the natural state of the universe gazed upon them once more and it was pure Khaeos .
The thing that stood out the most- the truth of it all that was dragged to the front foaming at the mouth was that - was that Perseús was a god.
And gods were selfish and petty beings. So while the others were scrambling trying to delay a prophecy that had been in the making for over millennia - longer than the current "Great Prophecy" - Perseús moved to stand at his sister's side overlooking the agora and keeping mum on everything else.
