Heart of a Spartan

Lend me your ear, so I may whisper your destiny

Prologue: Part 1

Oracle of Delphi, Apollo's priestess, Apollo's Oracle. There are many titles that a seerer, or more correctly speaker, of Apollo has received over the centuries, but the most renowned is the Oracle of Delphi. Birth place of the first oracle (first recorded Oracle anyways, or maybe the most common) and a worshipper of Apollo. The god Apollo bestowed the gift only to one girl at a time, once she has died he would then chose the next. This cycle has been happening for thousands of years, same with all the other deities oracles, and will continue probably till the end of time.

Today just so happens to be the day Apollo chooses his next oracle. A lucky baby girl will be born today during the highest peak of the eclipse, a moment where we are closest to Olympus, it is then that he will sweep all over the world to find her. This child will have to be able to contain the voice of a god, which by the way is a lot to retain. If the body isn't the right one it'll pop like a balloon. But since the voice isn't a physical presence but an essence it takes a toll on your soul. The very thing that makes you, you. The unfortunate souls that weren't compatible with the gods are like the residue of a man slaughter. Ripped, shredded and splattered around like left over blood. Not pretty. And rather troublesome for the gods, so they take their time finding the one with an affinity for the gods.

In a hospital in North America a mother is heard. While others observe the eclipse, she strains to bring her first child into life. It's been many hours since the first contraction. A flicker of fear wrinkles her already strained face, her blond hair is being held back by all the sweat she has produced, and her porcelain skin is red from exertion . She continues to push, while the doctors urge her to push harder. The mother is about to throw something at them while yelling that she's pushing as much as she can and why don't they try pushing a 6 oz brick out of their uterus. Instead she bits her lip and pushes until her face is almost purple. 

The doctor announces that the baby is crowning and the mother lets out a strangled sound its half way between a laugh and a sob.   The tell her to relax for a second before they have her pushing for all she's worth. She yells as she feels a sort of relief, then a high pitched wail cuts through the air. The laugh she lets out is all parts relief, excitement and maybe impatience.

The mother is anxious to have her baby in her arms instead of kicking at her spine, but is familiar with the system and its ways. While the doctors clean the baby Apollo watches, admiring the child, but a frown blooms on his perfect face. This is not the child promised, he is similar, has just the right blonde hair color, and same olive skin tone but is not the girl he is in search of. Gliding back to the mother he realizes she is not done, so neither is he.

A minute after this observation, the mother is hit again with a contraction. One minute everything has settled and the next chaos. Nurses quickly move to the mothers side to try to assess the situation, when they hear her contraction screams start a new. "Another is on its way" a nurse announces to the doctor, before he's passing his baby cleaning duty to a near by nurse. Taking a look himself he confirms to the mother, "Well Mrs. Bane. It seems you're in for an exciting bonus!" Mrs. Bane screws up into a painful concentration as she pushes.  Its only a few more seconds before the familiar relief in back. 

When the child is out, there is no wailing. The room eerily quiet, the mother is panicked, close to tears. The doctor moves quickly to try to generate the baby's breathing, but after a while he realizes there is no way for him to save this child. Just as the doctor pulls away to inform the new mother, Apollo's touch grazes the child and a wail is heard. Smirking Apollo turns to leave, he is finished here. But before he leaves he whispers a thought to Mrs. Bane, then vanishes.

"Congratulations, a healthy boy and girl. That was quite the surprise we had there." the Doctor is bewildered even as he says this. It was an act or god and no less. No heart beat for a few seconds there should have been fatal. "Have you thought of names?"

"Yes," Mrs. Bane smiles down at the now sleeping babes. "Marcus and Pythia." The nurses frown at the odd name, but the mother doesn't care. She's lost in the smooth baby skin and little blonde tuffs of hair, her smile is gentle, if a little watery. She kisses them softly. Already imagining their futures. Marcus,  a star hockey player with an all paid hockey scholarship to U of A and Pythia a straight A student with acceptance letters from all over the country asking for her confirmation.  Little does she know that that's not how their futures will end at all. Marcus will be a rising star, yes, but only after he loses everything that has any true value. Pythia? She'll never even complete her first year of university.  She'll never graduate high school. After all what do the dead need with a degree?