Cupid's Karma | ONC 2024 ✔

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Aphrodite's concerned green eyes swept over her son, checking for injuries. Her brow furrowed, a stark contrast to her usual serene expression, as she caught sight of the healing wound on his arm.

"Eros, how often must I tell you to be careful? Why were you struck, and who dared to pull an arrow on you?"

He flinched at the latter question, knowing it was very much a threat. Most unfortunately, Aphrodite took each warning to completion. She might be the goddess of love and desire, wielding both with unmatched skill, but not even Eris could compete with her wrath when it came to spite.

After all, he still remembered the trialing fate she had subjected Psyche to just because the mortal was considered more beautiful than her.

"I am fine," he tried to reassure her, "And I didn't get struck by the arrow intentionally. I was just in the way..."

"Who was it? If it was that bastard Apollo, I'll set him right once and for all," she hissed, her eyes darting around as if to catch Apollo and make him pay right then and there.

"No, no, it wasn't Apollo; he wouldn't dare play with arrows around me," Eros remarked, but he wasn't as proud about it as it might seem by those words; instead, a trace of guilt lingered in his tone.

Apollo and Eros had a long-held rivalry, which once caused Eros to act foolishly without thinking about the consequences of his actions. Apollo's never-ending boasts led the god of love to strike him with a love arrow, making him fall for a forest nymph named Daphne. But to teach him a lesson, Eros struck Daphne with a lead-tipped arrow, ensuring Apollo's advances were met with nothing but repulsion.

That childish feud between the two gods eventually ended with Daphne's death, and Eros still felt the guilt gnaw at his heart.

"Come, let me take a look," Aphrodite took him to her cottage not far from the calm turquoise sea that connected Zeus and Poseidon's realms.

Hidden from the prying eyes of Olympus, Aphrodite's stone cottage was a secluded haven where she retreated whenever she needed a break from her usually amorous life. Its roof was adorned with vibrant bougainvillea, cascading in a delicate splatter of fuchsia and purple. The serenity of the place was unmatched, and once she opened the door, the scent of jasmine and freshly baked bread wafted out.

It reminded Eros of his childhood, and a faint smile creased his features. She made him sit on a stool and then fetched her medical supplies. Her anger seemed to have subsided a bit, so Eros also decided not to bring up anything about how he got struck by the arrow unless he absolutely had to.

She examined the cut, which had almost healed, cleaning away the few specks of golden blood. Eros was unusually silent; she felt it was because he thought she was still angry at him. So to make him feel at ease, he brought up a distant memory as she carefully applied an ointment Hestia gave her.

"I remember the time you got stung by bees when you were no higher than my knee," she spoke, her voice soft with affection as she brushed his hair out of her eyes, "You made such a fuss of it back then. It feels strange now that you are so silent even though you were struck by a hunting arrow which would hurt much worse."

Eros shook his head, "That was ages ago, Mum. I was just a boy back then, new to the concept of pain."

"You are still just a boy to me. If you get hurt, I get hurt," she emphasized her words and gave him an expectant look as if waiting for him to confess how exactly he got struck by that arrow.

He considered what to tell her, then asked, "Eris told you about this, didn't she? You know her better than me. She is always waiting to cause some drama."

"But she was right in saying that Artemis's arrow struck you. I don't know how or why, but there is enough reason to believe you are intentionally hiding stuff from me."

He took a deep breath, knowing he was in a precarious situation, "Eris orchestrated all of this. But try to understand that if you retaliate, you will give her exactly what she wants. Let her be, and please don't argue with Artemis."

Aphrodite pursed her petal-like lips into a frown, pondering over her son's words. He was right in saying that falling into Eris's traps only brought more chaos and destruction. There was already a brimming tension between Artemis and Aphrodite; a feud at that moment would only worsen things.

"Fine, but you must take care of yourself. Don't come in the way of any arrows," she gave in reluctantly, standing up to go to the kitchen and bring that warm bread and milk for Eros to eat.

He was right in saying that years had lapsed, yet he was still just a boy to Aphrodite: her firstborn, resulting from her tempestuous love affair with Ares.

Ares, the god of war, was no doubt a chapter of her life that she was still reluctant to close despite all the obstacles their relationship had brought for them. They weren't destined to be together, each time they tried getting closer, fate would rip them apart. But still she couldn't push him out of her life and neither could he.

Such were the woes of love, and who would know it better than the love goddess herself?

She smiled as she watched her son's eyes light up to see the delicious feast in front of him. He was very fond of baked items and often nicked cream rolls and buns on his trips to the mortal world too. But none of those treats could compare to the bread his mother baked paired with a mug of milk sweetened with the purest honey in Olympus.

"How was your trip to the mortal world?" She asked, attempting to change the topic as she had been convinced that Eros wasn't in any immediate danger.

"It went as usual. I still have many hearts to pierce with my arrows. This ledger seems neverending," Eros remarked, handing over the lengthy scroll that he had kept in his satchel earlier.

Aphrodite hummed in reply, eyes sweeping over the list of names yet to find love. She could see that several of those names were recurring, strengthening her assumption that making people fall in love in the past was much easier than doing the same for the present-day youth.

"Love, my dear, is a mysterious force. You can't always control it with your arrows," she said, giving him a piece of useful advice.

Eros looked up, slightly surprised at why she had said that, but didn't question it. She made no attempt to elaborate either. Therefore, he finished his meal, thanked her, and then took his leave from her to go back to his tasks.

However, just as he was about to step out of her cottage, her speculative voice stopped him in his tracks. "Eros, you know I care for you and only want your best."

He turned around to see her, taken aback by the soft yet sad look in her eyes. "Of course, Mum. I know that very well."

"Then promise me that you will never pursue something that is out of your reach. Never get too invested in something unattainable, or its love could drive you to madness," she explained, her hand gently reaching out to clasp his shoulder in a motherly gesture.

Her words were cryptic, but that was because he couldn't see what she had glimpsed while he had turned to leave. As the goddess of love, Aphrodite had the ability to see the strings of fate that connected people. She had just seen a new knot on her son's finger, and alarmingly, the thread was dark red, the shade of unrequited love laced with trials and tribulations.

She couldn't guess who the knot led to as it was too soon for that. But her instincts warned her that it descended once again to the mortal world, like it had done so earlier with Psyche.

"Mum, I promise I won't do anything of the sort. Now, please don't be worried and take care. I will visit soon."

She retrieved her hand from his shoulder and nodded, letting him leave her cozy little cottage. As soon as he had left, a soft lamenting sigh escaped her, and her eyes trailed the thread that she had seen hooked onto her son's pinky finger.

Much to her disappointment, her instincts were true. It was definitely linked to someone in the mortal world.

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