Dies Irae

Chapter 2

This chapter isn't edited in any way, shape, or form. If ya' see a mistake, help a pal out, will ya'? :'D

Warnings: General. Rushed writing, slow build.

A/N: Writing this chapter was a headache and a half! I've wanted to delve a bit about fate, and free will, and all that jazz—in the end, I just spiraled myself into an existential crisis and my head is a jumbled mess, lmao.

I have the curse of overthinking stuff. Orz

Also, this chapter is only adding to the slow-build aspect to this story. While I love reading slow build stories, they're always complicated to write—though, this chapter is mostly just two perspectives on the whole fate/free will thing I tortured myself with, lolol. ((Seriously, I read a lot of thesis and essays about destiny and the subject of free will

That being said, enjoy!

"You know, this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

Harry paused in the middle of pouring syrup over his waffles, blinking curiously at Poseidon. He sat slouched in his seat at the little round table, arms crossed and definitely not brooding, lips pursed into a tight line. Seeing his expression, the god's expression soured more and he sent a pointed glance at Persephone.

Who was amusing herself with plucking petals off a flower, before growing them back again. A small little mountain of petals were in front of her.

All three of them were in some no-name diner, along America's infamous Route 66. It held a homey vibe, though its cheap price range was echoed in some of its outdated interior decorations, and squeaky chairs and booths. Harry eyed some cracks in the plaster before shrugging and turning towards the god of the sea again; it was a decent place with an even more decent set of waffles.

Though—Poseidon wasn't complaining about the place. He was complaining about the Queen of the Underworld also being in said place.

"She wants to help," Harry explained simply, returning to his task of delicately lacing syrup over his food.

Poseidon let out a frustrated noise, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, but why?"

"I'm right here, you know," Persephone interjected smoothly, sending the god a raised eyebrow. "Young Harry does not speak for me." She swept up her petals into her hands, pressing her palms together and releasing them into her cup of water. "I am here to help," she repeated Harry's earlier words.

"But why?" Poseidon gritted out, brow furrowing. "Because I'm pretty sure your husband isn't too happy with me at the moment." At this, he gestured at Harry, causing the wizard to grin sheepishly at him. Though he did it in his own way, with his own motives—he was still technically following Hades' order of kidnapping Sally.

'Kidnapping'.

Quotation marks around that word.

Persephone agreed easily. "You're correct about that, he isn't." She stirred her drink, the water taking on a faint hue. "But that does not me that I am not allowed to do as I see fit. I am his wife, not his pet." With this, she sent the god of the sea a dry look as she sipped on her drink.

"Still doesn't answer my question," Poseidon muttered, crossing his arms.

"Young Harry here insisted that your son is innocent. He has never lied to Hades or I before, so I see no reason why he would now." The answer was succinct. Persephone's springtime colored eyes shifted from leafy greens to rustic soil. "If your son did not steal the Thunderbolt, and my husband's helm, then who did?"

Poseidon's eyes shifted over her, raising an eyebrow.

"We didn't do it," Persephone snapped, and the god of the sea huffed in amusement. Tossing Poseidon a haughty look, ichor flushing to her face, Persephone continued stiffly, "anyways, if we are able to find a culprit, we could prove your son's innocence as well as getting my husband's helm back."

"And the Thunderbolt," Harry included, noting with a slight grin at the dismissive shrug Persephone gave as well as Poseidon's barely concealed eye-roll. Their opinions on the god of the sky were apparent, and only fueled Harry's minute desire to avoid him as much as possible.

"Sure," Poseidon muttered. "How do you wish to go about this, then? It is only a matter of time before a quest is delivered, then any chance of properly helping my son is diminished greatly. Especially if is decreed by the Fates."

"What do you mean?" Harry inquired, curious.

"The gods have limited input during quests," Poseidon explained, still staring glumly at the table in front of them. "If not for Zeus's laws, then the Fates. They're very… picky about their designs. No one dares defy them in fear of retribution." At this, the god cocked his head and his eyes flicked upwards to meet Harry's evenly. "Those who do… well, I'm sure you heard of the stories."

Harry shifted a bit, nodding. "But I'm also very curious—people have defied fate before, right? Like, with cancer and stuff. They were 'fated' to die, but didn't," he mused, curiously. The topic of death came easily to him, enough for him to know that cancer and other fatal diseases were meant to be just that—fatal.

In this world, surely that meant that Fates intended for them to die.

But with chemo, and treatments, and ever-growing advancements in medicine—people have survived. They took the smallest chance they could and ran with it, determined to live another day, nothing left to lose. Harry could appreciate that, a warm sentiment growing in his chest at the thought.

"Only mortals can really dare to defy the Fates." Persephone shrugged. She sipped at her drink, eyeing the motorcycles that were parked outside the diner with interest. "They are inevitable, anyways. If they do not get what they want the first time around, who is going to stop them from trying again? Or who is to say that it wasn't planned at all, for them to 'fail' the first time?"

How confusing—the talk of fate, and prophecies, they all wrapped around Harry's head and strung together, knotting together in a big tangled mess. Harry briefly wondered if the Fates knew about him, if they accounted for him—he wasn't originally from this world, after all.

So, maybe he had a loophole.

Ah, but it was often in the act of avoiding a prophecy that often made them come true. Voldemort's own attempt at avoiding the one about him was what kickstarted everything, what was the that start of the hell that was Harry's life. Dumbledore did not help matters much, feeding into it as he did, grooming him for what was to come.

Even if he wasn't a loophole—Harry took Persephone's words into account. If nothing he did could change Fates' design, if his effort to 'defy' a prophecy to help out a kid were all in vain… it didn't matter. He'd still try and help, because if he didn't, then who would?

(He remembers standing with the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders, the most of his support were his friends who were just as young as he was, unsure; all he could do was continue pushing forward, watching as those who could do something did nothing.)

If he just sat around, doing nothing—the thought made Harry cringe internally, because that wasn't an option. Was never an option for him, really. Being a bystander when he could do something was unforgivable.

Besides, it wasn't like he out to defy the Fates specifically. All he wanted to do was to help Percy out, and if 'defying' fate just happened to fall into that category, well—tough luck, that. Come what may, he'll meet in the middle.

(He briefly wondered if Hagrid would love it in this world; its creatures would certainly intrigue him.)

"All this talk isn't going to be helping my son," Poseidon forcefully reminded them. "We are limited on time as it is, talking about philosophy like this isn't going to help Percy. We need to figure out what we're going to do next."

"Right," Harry murmured, closing the lid on his current thoughts and shoved it towards the back to ruminate on it later. He rubbed a spot on his wrist absently, thinking. "I suppose we could ask whoever's been searching on what they have, and work from there."

"You want to bring others into this?" Poseidon furrowed his brows, sitting up straighter.

"If they agree, yes," the wizard replied, eyeing the god's reaction warily. "If not, then we'll have to start from scratch and that will take longer."

"Yes, but if we waste time asking for help and having to start from the beginning anyways, that would waste more time," Poseidon countered, a prominent frown on his mouth. The tension tugged his expression down, souring it into something brooding and stern. Persephone eyed him with interest. "The time for planning is waning, and the time for action needs to start as soon as possible."

"This is a delicate thing, what we're doing," Persephone inputted, sipping her drink. "To defy Fate as much as we are able without really outright defying them. It does take some type of planning instead of rushing into things, like how you usually do." Poseidon's head snapped towards her, affronted; Harry interrupted because seriously, the last thing he needed was gods' petty bickering during a good breakfast.

"How about we do both?" Harry offered. "Persephone and I will ask for help, while you start an investigation. Then we'll work from there," the plan was half-assed, but there wasn't much one could plan when going in blind and Harry had no idea what to expect.

Not from a world with Greek Mythology, with gods and goddesses that embodied those myths and currently had their own system and way of thinking. Not with the Fates being an actual thing that seemed to have plans with Percy.

All Harry usually had to go with was instinct, and his own brand of luck that seemed to carry him through most things in his life.

Poseidon shifted a bit, vaguely sulking. "Seems a bit one-sided."

"Think of it this way—you get bragging rights on us if they don't agree," Harry had no idea who 'they' were, but Persephone seemed to perk up at the mention. She seemed to know more about the progression of the search and others on Olympus.

At this, the god of the sea seemed begrudging. "Okay," he agreed at last, reluctance still lingering in his tone. He reached for something in his pocket, presenting it to Harry casually. Harry leaned forward, even as Persephone made an appreciative noise at the sight of it.

It was some type of clam. It honestly reminded Harry of one of those clam shell mirrors, but the make was much more shiny and exquisite. It looked like something Harry would break simply by touching it, though he accepted it at the slightest twitch of impatience on Poseidon's expression.

"Thanks?" Harry offered an awkward smile.

"You're welcome," Poseidon drawled. "It's a communication device, and the only one that currently exists. I tend not to give these out often," he explained with great importance, and Harry instantly understood a lot more. Sirius's hearty laugh that sounded like a dog barking echoed in his ears, and Harry couldn't help the wistful quirk of his lips, despite the painful spike through his core.

Mirrors still made great communication devices, who knew?

"I'll cherish it, then," Harry promised, still heavy with sentiment from lifetimes ago. Poseidon blinked, seemingly taken aback at the sincere show of emotion. He rubbed an awkward hand through his hair, eyeing him with critical eyes.

"It's the only way we can openly communicate without fear of others hearing," Poseidon continued. "I don't know if the goddess Iris will betray me—"

"Oh, she would. She hates you." Persephone delved with much glee, and Poseidon slanted a glare towards her.

"So this is the only reliable way," Poseidon said with finality, ignoring Persephone. He met eyes with Harry once more, the hard flint in them softening as Harry kept his stare. The wan smile he gave Harry was surprising in its sincerity. "We'll see each other again."

And with the faint breeze of the ocean, of salt and freedom, he was gone.

"Does the goddess of rainbows really hate him?" Harry asked, as he examined his new contraption with mute interest. Persephone chuckled beside him, waving off his question with a jovial gesture of her hand.

"No, I was just teasing with that part." Persephone admitted. "Though, she would betray him as long as my father sees him as an enemy. A lot of goddesses and gods take sides whenever the Olympians fight, and seeing as of that so many are on my father's side—they'd take their side too, in order to gain favor."

"And who are we trying to get on our side?" Harry pocketed the clam in his moleskin bag, which was charmed to hold a lot of stuff. He waved for a check, giving a curious glance at Persephone. The goddess of springtime ran fingers through her hair, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"It might be a long shot, but it is still a shot, young Harry." Persephone mused carefully. Her eyes melted from the dusty hue of carnations to a hopeful blue. "The Twins seem to be on the forefront of the search."

The Twins—Harry minutely winced, because of course Persephone would choose Olympians of all the gods and goddesses to go to first. But considering her status as Queen of the Underworld—maybe, it wasn't so surprising. People tend to flock to others of their own social standing, after all.

"We'll start after breakfast," Harry sighed, returning to his meal. While he does not regret what he was doing, he did feel a bit tired.

And if he was going to be dealing with more gods and goddesses in his future, at the very least— Harry deserved a decent breakfast.

-0-0-0-

Apollo loosened his grip on his arrow, and let it fly.

It was almost exhilarating, watching it soar through the air. It hit its mark with a very satisfying thump, a bright and easy grin already spreading across his face. He fist pumped the air and turned towards his sister expectantly, seeing Artemis's narrowed gaze peer at his hit.

"Still got it, sis!" Apollo cheered, shouldering his bow to cross his arms. Artemis snorted and dragged her gaze back to him, unimpressed.

"We share a domain in archery, idiot," Artemis scoffed. She rolled her eyes as she notched her own arrow, taking aim at the same target he struck earlier. Apollo frowned at her, though she went on to say, "never doubted you in the first place, lil' bro."

With that, her arrow flew and struck his, splitting his arrow in half at the target.

"Ah, man," Apollo complained, sending her an exaggerated pout. Artemis didn't pay no mind, slowly lowering her stance to peer at her shot, satisfaction gleaming in her moonlit eyes. "I loved that arrow! That one in specific, now it's ruined," the god of the sun gestured towards it.

"As if Hephaestus cannot make you more," Artemis sent him an irritated glance. Apollo continued to give her an imploring look, causing annoyance to twitch on her face. "It's not like anything can be done about it now!"

"You could make it up to me," Apollo said slyly, a slow grin overtaking his face.

"No."

"That was too blunt! You don't even know what I was going to ask for yet!" Apollo cried at her quick dismissal, watching as she turned and started to walk away, back to her camp. Apollo followed, dogging her footsteps. "Do it for your favorite twin brother!"

"You're my only twin brother," Artemis replied, without looking back. "Unfortunately."

"You know you love me," Apollo caught up, throwing an arm around her shoulder. She tried to shrug him off, but he latched on tighter, causing her to roll her eyes and huff. Their brisk pace settled to a slow walk as they continued through the woods, sunlight streaming through the branches of the trees.

"Unfortunately," Artemis seemed to lament. Apollo just grinned at her. "Hypothetically, if I were to do something for you, what will you ask?" The goddess of the hunt relented, exasperation clear in her voice.

"Well, if you let me spend time with some of your hunters—" Apollo teased, but before he could finish, he was suddenly picked up by the front of his shirt and tossed into a tree. He grunted as let himself be thrown around, knowing full well he deserved it because Artemis's hunters were precious to her.

"Apollo," Artemis growled, eyes alight with a predator's gleam. "If you're just going to be a creep, I'll treat you like one, and use your genitals for my next target practice," she stressed, causing Apollo to let out a little whine and jump up, shifting his lower body away from his sister.

"I was just joking, sis!" Apollo shook his head, covering his lower parts with his hands. Artemis snorted at the action, though her eyes were still hard. "I'm sorry, I really am," he insisted a bit more seriously, which Artemis eyed before nodding slightly. Feeling properly forgiven, the god of the sun perked up and skipped back over to his sister, throwing another arm around her shoulders.

But before he could touch her, she said, "not the time, Apollo."

Hastily, he pulled his arm back and dropped it, undisturbed. "But I was really going to ask something of you, sis. I was wondering if you could help me look for something," he continued easily, causing Artemis to send him a critical look. He shrugged in reply.

"If father finds out that we're taking time off looking for his weapon, he won't be pleased," Artemis reminded, causing Apollo to wince. And also to internally scoff, because both of them just engaged in a little archery competition just mere moments ago!

"When is he ever pleased?" Apollo muttered, causing Artemis to send him a slight glance. She eyed him, and he waved her off. "But I already know he is going to get his weapon back, so we don't need to worry too much about it. Uncle's son will help in that," he assured, causing Artemis's brows to furrow.

Artemis was quiet for a few moments, both of them coming to a stop about half a mile away from her camp. In the wilderness, she almost blended in, in her element; if Apollo wasn't her other half, her twin brother, he swore he would have missed her with how seamlessly she blended in. Even with his own eyesight, which were made for archery.

"What do you want to look for?" Artemis asked tersely. Apollo practically cheered, sending her a bright grin that lightened the woods around them, causing his sister to glance away with an exaggerated eye roll.

"I heard there was a phoenix in modern day! It's been forever since I saw one," Apollo explained, causing the goddess of the hunt to blink. "I wish to meet it, and see if I can get some of its tears. As a bird of healing, I figured it'd only be right if I meet it."

"A phoenix? Seriously?" Artemis asked, baffled.

"Seriously serious!"

"Huh." Artemis pondered this for a moment, rubbing her chin in thought. "It has been awhile since I hunted a phoenix," she murmured, almost wistfully. Apollo gave her a stricken look, making her blink at him and roll her eyes. "Fine, I won't hunt this one. But if there is another one, I'm hunting it."

"The first phoenix in over a thousand years, and your first thought was to hunt it?" Apollo complained, making his sister shoot him an annoyed glance and gesture at herself. Right, goddess of the hunt. He sighed in fake disappointment, though his smile was telling. "I suppose it is a form of hunting to find it. Just no killing it, okay?"

Artemis rolled her eyes. "It's a phoenix. It'll just be reborn afterwards, anyways," she muttered petulantly. A lot of monsters came back too, though phoenixes were slightly different. It was a surprise when they disappeared so suddenly thousands of years ago; it had caused some unease when it happened.

Athena, ever the wise and taciturn one, suggested that perhaps that mortals didn't believe them anymore and that is why they faded from existence. While a sensible explanation, Apollo always felt that it was wrong. Not that he dare say it, because Athena was terrifying when she thought people wanted to prove her wrong; especially without evidence to back up their claims.

"No need."

The voice had startled the two twins, both of them notching arrows and instantly aiming towards the source. Artemis was practically snarling silently beside him, teeth bared in a grimace. Apollo knew she must be angry because this was basically her element, and no one should be able to sneak up on them like this.

An affinity for nature, then? Apollo's mind raced through the possibilities, fingers slowly loosening his grip on his arrow as the person stepped out—

Almost instantly, he dropped his arrow and blinked. "Lady Persephone?"

Artemis lowered her arrow hastily as well, face still twisted up in an uncomfortable and seething grimace. She shifted as she put the arrow into her quiver, carefully avoiding making eye contact with the lady of the underworld. Apollo dimly remembered her little crush on the goddess springtime when they were younger (younger than a thousand years).

No doubt, it should have faded; still, it must be awkward for his sister.

Any amusement Apollo felt bubble up was popped when his eyes met with the bird on Persephone's shoulder. Persephone smirked at them, flowers blooming underneath her bare feet and in her hair, the phoenix sitting on her shoulder staring intently at the two of them.

It's been so long.

"Hello Apollo, and hello Artemis," Persephone greeted regally, hand reaching up to stroke a gentle finger across the fire colored feathers. Her smile was practically mischievous. "I did not mean to eavesdrop, so I apologize for intruding. But isn't it fortunate that I come anyways?"

Artemis's eyes were sharp on her. "How fortunate," his sister repeated. Her eyes flickered to the phoenix and raised an eyebrow. "I did not know that the bird attached itself to you. Though, I suppose it makes sense, considering your domain."

"You came to see us?" Apollo questioned, brow furrowing. While he was happy that the phoenix came to them, a bit disappointed that Persephone claimed it before he could—they couldn't forget that this was uncle Hades' wife.

Hades, as in the god that possibly be waging war against their father as they speak.

Apollo didn't know the specifics, but he did have a feeling that the future included both of his uncles. The Big Three were one of the one constants in his prophecies. While that didn't automatically mean guilty for Hades, it did mean suspicion, and Apollo always made sure to steer clear away from those heavily involved in prophecies and visions, fearing to change what the Fates set in stone.

But Persephone was here, talking to them. Something he didn't foresee.

Something changed.

A slight glance at Artemis had him relax slightly, because she too was still on guard. Her grip on her bow was still tight, moonlit eyes dark and predatory on the goddess of spring.

"My domains?" Persephone mused. "I suppose so, though he is not mine. He appeared in the Underworld, with both my husband and I in the room." She gave the bird a curious look, which the phoenix cocked its head at. A smile quirked her lips. "Perhaps joint custody?"

The bird gave her a look, causing her laugh.

"I repeat, you came to us?" Apollo insisted, anxious. He didn't want the future to change, when it was well on its way, and didn't want his father to look down and see. Their father wasn't the most reasonable when angry, and he was seemingly always angry with Apollo.

"That is right!" Persephone clapped her hands together, eyes alight. The summer sun burned bright across her dark skin, alighting her hair; she really was the picture of spring come to life. The phoenix accented the life held within her. "I came to ask for help," she continued.

"Help?" Artemis huffed. "With what, overtaking Olympus with your husband?" The last word was spat out bitterly, causing the goddess of spring to pause and frown. Apollo nudged his sister lightly, despite knowing her bitterness at Persephone's tale.

A young girl kidnapped and forced to marry a man? Artemis's worst nightmare (it was Apollo's too, for his sister).

"Do not speak ill of him," Persephone narrowed her eyes. The phoenix crooned a soft song, and Apollo felt his breath catch at the melody. It was an incredibly warm song, warming the air around the clearing; it felt like it moved in time with the earth slowly moving in its rotation, in the summer flowers that bloomed along the trees. It felt warm, it felt exhilarating—

It felt right.

Like how everything was where it was supposed to be.

Of course, the bird stopped after a few moments. It seemingly gave Persephone a pointed look, causing her to shake out of her dazed state to frown. "Dirty," she accused it, despite the lovely little sigh she gave. Her mouth was a slight smile.

"That was amazing," Apollo gushed, stepping forward instantly. He felt Artemis shake herself behind him, hearing her grit her teeth. He ignored her for now, walking up to the lady of the underworld with stars in his eyes. "It's been forever since I last saw a phoenix!" The phoenix eyed him as he approached, with Persephone crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at him.

"It has been quite some time," she agreed smoothly.

Apollo nodded, not taking his eyes off the phoenix. He really wanted it. With a feeling of giddiness in his chest, he announced with a bright smile, "in fact, I think I feel a haiku coming on—"

"No!" Artemis snarled, and then Apollo felt her snatch the back of his shirt. She tugged him back to where they were standing, moving him a bit behind her. "No haikus. And while amazing as it is to see another phoenix again, as I see it—we're still on opposite sides. Why do you need our help?"

Persephone pursed her lips, her springtime eyes filtering through different shades of summer blues and lush greens, morphing into the soft dusky hues of flowers. At last, her lashes lowered and her expression softened. "Do you truly think my husband and I are working against Olympus?"

The question lingered heavy in the air.

Artemis recoiled at it, as did Apollo. It was an honest question, that much Apollo could tell. In a world where gods poised and flaunted their words, their meanings; an honest question was rare to find. Much less to the two twins of Archery, because while powerful—

They were still considered a younger age of Olympians, compared to the others. Grouped with Hermes, and Dionysus, they were the younger Olympians. It was rare for anyone 'above' them to really ask for their honest opinion.

"I do not know," Artemis found her voice, tasting the words in her mouth. "I don't see it one way or another, but as long as Lord Zeus commands it, we will be on his side. Right, Apollo?" His sister swung her gaze onto him, looking for validation.

Apollo worried his lower lip, averting his eyes.

"Apollo," Artemis narrowed her eyes.

"Look, I see all, know all yada yada yada—" Apollo began, waving a flippant hand. His gaze traveled to the phoenix, who cocked its head at him. "I do know that our uncles are very prominent in the near future. Something big is coming. Who is to say that the two of them rebelling against father isn't the beginning of it?"

"Rebel for what?" Persephone scoffed. "Power? If you are forgetting, Lord Poseidon and my husband have their own domains, both of which are just as powerful as the skies."

Apollo gave her an empty look, because this was more than just mere rebelling amongst gods. It was older than them, interwoven in the world around them, trembling and existing alongside them, warning—suffocating. The weight of the future was always heavy in Apollo's mind.

It always made him feel so tiny.

And generally, as a god, he disliked that feeling a whole lot.

Artemis huffed and puffed beside him, standing close to him. Her hand brushed lightly against his, grounding him. "Even if we were to betray our father, you give us no reason to do so. Do you wish us to follow you because you asked?"

Persephone bristled, ichor flushing angrily to her pretty face.

The phoenix cooed softly.

"They have a point, Lady Persephone." A soft voice brushed against them, an imprint of a voice in their mind. Apollo practically choked on a breath, while his sister inhaled sharply. Persephone pursed her lips, her eyes slanting to who spoke—

The phoenix.

The voice was distinctly masculine, a pleasant and low tone that seemed to thrum in Apollo's head. Instinctively, he knew that it'd be a decent singer, though he could never really be too sure until he heard it firsthand. It had to be the phoenix, though—this was unprecedented! A phoenix that could communicate?

Whoa.

"You speak!?" Artemis hissed, arrow notched and pointed at the bird. Apollo sputtered, throwing an arm out and smacking hers down, then pinning them to her side in a mock hug as she struggled against him. "Apollo! Stop touching me!"

"Sis! You gotta calm down!" Apollo pleaded, squeezing harder. "You're going to scare him off!"

"Good luck with that," Persephone mused, trailing a finger underneath the phoenix's chin. The phoenix seemed to chirp at that, before stiffening and tossing it's head to the other side with a disgruntled air. The goddess of springtime grinned wolfishly. "You're more compliant like this, I must say."

"I suppose," the phoenix replied shortly. With a croon that mimicked a sigh, he turned his attention back to the two godly twins in front of them. Artemis had stopped struggling, allowing Apollo to step back; his hand was loosely threaded with hers, though. Both of them stared at the phoenix. "Hullo."

Apollo could only incline his head, grateful he didn't stammer as he said, "hello to you."

When Artemis didn't respond, still glaring warily at the bird, Apollo gently squeezed her hand. The goddess of the hunt gritted her teeth, and forced out a short, "hi." And that was the best the phoenix was going to get.

"I understand that asking for help seems a bit suspicious," the phoenix agreed, lifting from Persephone's shoulder to perch in a nearby tree. It observed them with sharp eyes. "As hard as it might be, please believe me when I say it is not with any hidden intentions. We do wish for help, nothing more, nothing less."

"Even so," Artemis shoved her foot into Apollo's when he opened his mouth to reply. He snapped his mouth shut, kicking her back. She grunted but continued, staring stonily at the phoenix. "You give us no reason, and we stated our stance. If you continue to pester us, I might take offense to that."

Persephone narrowed her eyes, the color in them shifting to deep and dark soil. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a promise." Artemis replied, letting go of Apollo's hand to grab another arrow. Persephone only stared blankly at her, the goddess's expression tense. The phoenix gave a short trill to get their attention back on him, amongst Apollo's own turbulent emotions.

"We're asking for help because we believe Poseidon's son is innocent," the phoenix explained. "We want to find who really took the Thunderbolt and the Helm, in hopes to prove his innocence as well as figuring out who is the real culprit." At the mention of the boy, Artemis's expression deadpanned.

"Guilty until proven innocent," she replied. "If he is really innocent, he can prove that for himself."

The phoenix seemed indignant at that, puffing up. "Perseus is innocent. It should not fall to a 12 year old to convince everyone that he didn't do something," the bird practically seethed, causing his sister to blink and grimace slightly, taken aback. Apollo shifted, also a bit uneasy at the phoenix's ire, especially when directed towards his sister.

Persephone tilted her head, combing her fingers through her hair thoughtfully. They fell in loose curls over her shoulder, the flowers intertwined within them glistening in the light. "If you two truly do not wish to help finding the real culprit behind everything," she mused, settling them both with a look. "Then I apologize for bothering in the first place. If you excuse us," with that, the queen of the underworld held out her arm for the phoenix to perch on, dismissing themselves as easily as they came.

Apollo sucked in a deep breath, torn.

"Wait—" The god managed to strain out, causing everyone to pause. He could feel Artemis's moonlit eyes staring holes into him, but he kept his gaze on the still back of the goddess of springtime. His gaze met the phoenix's and he swallowed, licking his lips. "What—what do you think you're doing?"

"Helping my husband," Persephone replied in a very 'duh way, making Apollo bristle. The phoenix only tilted his head, prompting the god to ignore the goddess's jab at him (as hard as that was).

"No," Apollo shook his head. "What do you think you're doing with the future? Do you really think you can defy what is already in motion?" Aren't you scared? Are you dumb? Apollo couldn't wrap his head around it, because if there was one thing he took seriously, it was the Fates and prophecy.

And his haikus— maybe some music shows that he hasn't been able to visit due to his current Olympian duties—and definitely, most definitely, his sister and his mother.

Because Apollo was all for giving his father Zeus the middle finger behind his back every chance he got, but if anything – anything- threatened his sister and mother, he will put a stop to it.

Persephone seemed to pause at that, sending him a mild glance from over her shoulder. She didn't seem too sure herself, and Apollo couldn't help the bitter stab of viciousness that spiked him, forcing him to give the goddess a cruel smile. Only to falter when he met the resolute stare of the phoenix, whose fire burned brighter.

"Is it easier to go along with whatever Fate has planned?" The phoenix asked, sounding tired. Apollo squirmed, a bit taken aback at the question. Artemis snorted derisively at the question, and Persephone's soil-dark eyes lingered on her companion, waiting.

"Yes," Apollo answered at last, slowly. Because it was safer that way, to go along with whatever Fates has planned than attempting anything else. Because the Fates possess a power that was above even Olympians, and no one could ever truly defy them.

"Choosing between right and what is easy…," the phoenix sounded contemplative, letting out a little chirp that had Apollo's breath catching at the sound. It was musical, light, and goddamn it all, Apollo wanted his own little phoenix. "In a world defined by fate, let it be our choices who define us."

And with that, the goddess of the underworld and the phoenix were swallowed by a swath of flames. They were gone the next instant, leaving nothing behind by flickers of disappearing flames and ash, and the smell of fragrant flowers.

Apollo felt stricken, as if he tripped over something and only caught himself in time to avoid falling flat onto his face. His balance was disrupted, and he was… uncomfortable. Artemis touched his arm, and he met her eyes, seeing her tense expression echoing what he felt.

"Let us return," Artemis urged, and with one last scathing glance to where Persephone and the phoenix was, started to drag him through the woods to her camp. Apollo let himself be dragged along, unable to trust himself to keep his feet steady enough to follow after her.

At least Apollo got to meet the phoenix, despite being left in such a state.

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I promise I'll try to spice things up from now on! B]

I've been really wanting to start writing regularly again.

See ya'!

-mms