#although i genuinely feel Lord Hermes and Lord Apollo have been looking out for us

[therainbowwillow]

https://therainbowwillow.tumblr.com/post/641225373410000896/therainbowwillow

Part 16! Well, this fic is getting so damn long! I have another (dare I say more important) project I’m *supposed* to be writing. This fic was meant to be a warm-up... anyway. Here is part 16!

Premise/last time: With their trial fast approaching, everyone arrives at the gates of Olympus. Hermes again receives the same foreboding prophecy, but they’ve come too far to turn back now.

The golden gates of Olympus span before them, in beautiful contrast to the city’s mostly marble architecture. Athena opens the doors, standing guard as they enter. “Welcome home,” she greets the returning Olympians.

“Are we safe?” Hermes questions her.

“You’re safer than you could be,” she says. “Hades insisted upon immediately locking you up, but we negotiated against chains. I am supposed to disarm you, however.”

“We only have Hades’s knife, as far as I know,” Hermes explains.

“I’ll take it.” He hands the knife to her. It’s stained with blood, unwashed since... Hermes doesn’t want to think about it. “Smart, preserving the evidence,” she tells him, turning it over in her hands. He accepts the compliment, although his intention hadn’t been to incriminate Hades.

“Apollo!”

He looks up as Artemis flies down the path and leaps into his arms. “Artemis! Ouch, wait. I took an arrow to the ankle, remember.”

“Sorry!” She holds him up for support. Hyacinthus takes his other side. “It’s been a while, Apollo.”

He chuckles. “And whose fault is that?”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry! I know I should’ve been there for you. It wasn’t you I was trying to avoid. Still, I should’ve said something.”

He tilts his head. “Who then?”

“Take a guess. Zeus and Hades blamed me for the Asclepius situation, because it was my hunter he resurrected. Our relatives are easier to avoid than to confront, so I ran. I see your lover didn’t stay down too long,” she remarks.

“I don’t know. I’d call seventeen- no, eighteen- years a long time,” Hyacinthus says.

She shrugs. “Shorter than most people stay dead for. Anyway, our prospects look fine. Zeus and Hades remain their ever-stubborn selves. Still, the whole world heard that song. Callisto and I were as far from the railroad as one could get and we heard it. That son of yours, he has the whole planet on his side.”

“You’re still with Callisto?” Apollo says with a smirk.

Her cheeks flush. “I suppose. She’s a wonderful hunting partner.”

“You don’t need the ‘hunting’ bit of that sentence.”

“And you wonder why I never visit,” she mutters.

“Aw, come on, Art. I’m only teasing. Please do come by more often.”

“I come by plenty when you aren’t moping and our father isn’t attempting to bring his wrath upon me. Shouldn’t we be discussing the trial?”

“Right.”

“I’ve been keeping my eye on Zeus,” she says, as they walk through the gates. “I posed a case for Hyacinthus, too. Our father seemed open to the idea of letting him live if it means you’ll get back to your duties.” 

Apollo grins. “Still, it’ll take some argument,” Artemis continues. “I overheard that Hermes will be the target of the trial, not Orpheus. I didn’t catch why they changed their plans, but I thought I’d warn you. Ares, Zeus, and Poseidon took Hades’s side. The rest of Olympus is loyal to Orpheus, to varying degrees, and for different reasons. Regardless, it’s support!”

“A little good news for once,” Hermes remarks.

“Yes. I’m sorry about your circumstances, though.”

“Better me than Orpheus. When does the trial start?” He asks.

“Soon,” Athena answers. “Let’s arrive before our opposition.” She guides them down the street, ethereal and white as the rest of the city. 

Orpheus notices the flowers, gardens pressed against every house and street corner, all in full bloom. It seems even Olympus feels his springtime. He absentmindedly plucks out a few notes on his lyre. The flower heads turn to face him. 

Eventually, they reach the center of the city. A marble building rises higher than the rest. Its domed roof has blue accents. The entrance is lined with sets of ornate pillars. 

“Here we are,” Athena says, “Get comfortable. Confidence will be an asset to our case.” 

Hestia welcomes them inside. “You must be Orpheus! The poet I’ve heard so much about.” Her smile is genuine and it lights up the entire room as Eurydice wheels him inside. 

“I am!” Orpheus says. “The gods know me!” He whispers to Eurydice.

“I am sorry for the circumstances of our meeting, Orpheus. My name is Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home. Are you comfortable as you are or would you like a chair?” 

“This is fine! Thank you.”

“Of course! You will all be provided food and drink throughout the trial,” she tells them. “And Hermes, Hades has express interest in shackling you to your chair. I am not sure what he expects you to do, but I wanted to warn you regardless.”

Hermes nods, soundlessly. 

Eurydice sits beside Orpheus. “You okay?” she asks, gently.

“Yes. I’m just... preparing myself to see Hades.” He lowers his voice. “It’s Hermes I’m really worried about. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“He’ll be alright,” she assures him, uneasily. 

----------------------------------------------------------------

Hermes sits on the far edge of the semicircle of seats, keeping Orpheus in his  line of sight. He’d picked out Hades’s chair, draped with a new grey coat and placed himself directly across from it. He’d keep a close eye on the king of the dead, he’d decided, for Orpheus’s sake. 

He sits in silence, separated from the rest of his side of the case. Three figures enter the room. The two men closely resemble each other. Thanatos and Hypnos, he realizes, with surprise. Orpheus looks at the ground, afraid to meet the god of death’s eyes.

“We are allies,” Thanatos announces, “To Orpheus.” The god takes a seat beside Hestia, adjacent to the rest of the room. Orpheus beams in disbelief.

Other deities trickle into the courtroom. Ares takes the first seat on the other side of the room. Aphrodite and her son, Eros, take Orpheus’s side. Demeter pulls Persephone into her arms in a long hug and takes a seat beside her daughter. The air seems to warm at their touch. The Anemoi, the four winds, side with Hades, probably due to Hyacinthus’s presence, Hermes notes. Poseidon and Zeus arrive together, taking their seats beside Ares. 

Hades is last to arrive. The air prickles in his presence. Persephone turns up her lip. Orpheus squeezes Eurydice’s hand. Hermes forces himself to keep his gaze fixed on Hades as he strides to his seat. He scans his ex-employer for weapons, anything he could use against Orpheus. He finds nothing and his head aches too badly to keep searching. Hades sits and glares, his eyes trained upon Hermes. He moves his head slightly. Hermes’s vision fades to black. 

He sees nothing, only hears the notes flooding over him and he feels the chains, boring into his wrists. Orpheus’s voice, so clear and effortless. He stops singing. A chair creaks. “No! No!” Orpheus screams. Blood. A stronger scent than ever before. Eurydice gasps. His vision returns. Drops of golden ichor bead on the marble floor beneath his feet. 

Hestia sits at his side. “Hermes?” She hands him a handkerchief. “Your nose is bleeding. Pinch, lean back a little. Are you alright?” He nods. “Would you like something to drink? You passed out.” He shakes his head. His eyelids feel heavy. “Okay, I want you to drink something anyway.”

She hands him a glass of nectar and he takes a sip. “Would you like to lie down for a moment?” 

He hears heavy footsteps approaching. Hades. “I told you, chain him up,” he growls.

“Hades, he’s clearly quite ill.” She places a hand against his forehead. “He’s running a fever. Perhaps we should delay-”

“No,” Hermes mutters. “I’m alright.” 

Hades presses shackles around his wrists. He can’t find the strength to fight back. “The trial proceeds.” Hades returns to his seat. 

Athena rises. “We proceed, then,” she says, uneasily. “The prosecution may give its opening statements.” 

Hades dips his head. “We open, Olympus, to traitors, with more support than those who abide by the law. To the lesser crimes of the foolish Orpheus, willing to unwind the binds of death for his selfish desire for the girl he forgot.” Hermes sees Orpheus draw in a small breath. Eurydice whispers something to him. 

“And the true cause for our gathering,” Hades continues, “Hermes. Impressive, I must admit, just how much of his contract he managed to break. Willing to betray his own family for the good of a mortal boy and his worthless lover.” Eurydice’s expression hardens, burning with anger. She sips from the glass beside her, hiding her fury. “Pathetic and foolish is his love of mortals. Even now, he betrays us, refusing to provide evidence before the court, simply because it incriminates a red-blooded boy. He hides from us the contract of Eurydice, a shade of Hadestown, returned to life by his maddened endeavors.” 

“How, Olympus, do you side with these cowards? Do the laws of our land mean nothing to you? Your very sustenance relies on the preservation of death. Without it, your precious world would be overrun by long-dead shades, many of them criminals. Murderers, thieves, vain enough to proclaim themselves above you. Today, let us prevent the fall of your civilized world. Let us uphold the borders that protect us and punish those who dare to tear them down.” He lowers himself methodically back into his seat.

Athena stands once more. “And the defense’s response. Lord Hades, the reason for Orpheus’s support is this: Olympus does not find your actions redeemable. This mortal boy walked into your realm on his own two legs. He sang a song, so beautiful, the world wept for his love. He reminded you, he reminded all of us what it means to lead. That strength is not found in cruelty and fear, but in love and respect. He stood before the King of the Dead and he sang. If that is cowardice, there is no bravery.”

Orpheus smiles. She continues, “You allowed him safe passage home, so long as he did not break your terms. He was not to sing until he reached the surface. Although his memory faded with the fog of the River Lethe, he did not break his contract. Still, you sent shades to hunt him down and blackmailed Thanatos into bringing you his soul. You tortured Orpheus, deprived an already injured and starved young man of food and drink and forced him to sing at your will until he could not force out another note. Once you discovered he was no longer of use, you stuck a knife through his stomach and left him to die, alone in the dark.” Hermes notices Orpheus’s misery at remembering his days in Hades’s prison. Orpheus sips his drink to distract himself.

“We are inclined to side with the truth and that Orpheus is a traitor is a lie. Broken contracts hold nothing to the crimes of Hades. The law exists to govern our morality. When the law is wrong, it is our job to uphold justice. Not in the name of the papers we signed, but in the name of what is just. Let us do today what is just: acquit the defendants and honor them for their gifts of springtime. Now, albeit unconventionally, I ask for a song.” 

Orpheus strums his lyre and sings his first notes. His song washes the room with an incredible warmth. A murmur goes about the crowd as flowers begin to bloom in the vast hall, wrapping chair legs in vines, springing from the ground. His shoulders drop, his fear fades as he sings. His song recites love. Not just his own. Not only Hades’s. 

Apollo is struck all over again by the first time he’d seen Hyacinthus, his beautiful Spartan prince, outlined against the sunrise. Achilles remembers Patroclus, racing him through Peleus’s halls. Artemis sees Callisto, her eyes glinting in the moonlight as they hunt, side by side. Even Hera feels the old flutter in her chest, some tiny spark of love for her husband, love she’d long since extinguished. Persephone feels the change of her husband’s heart. How he sees her, how he knows what must be done. 

Not a single note is out of place, not a single line is forgotten. Orpheus’s song is a song of love and warmth. A song of hope for what might be. What is now, so long as he keeps singing. And this time, his voice doesn’t fail him. He does not falter. He only sings and sings, until every flower on Olympus and on the ground faces him. Until his voice reaches Hadestown and echoes off the distant walls and the workers join the chorus, singing with a new vigor. His springtime is not the springtime of legends. It is more. It is hope for a new world, freedom from the past. And he keeps singing.

[anthcs]

"i don't suppose there's any real reason the hermes cabin is so," jesper squints, squiggles his fingers in the air as he tries to find a word that won't get him smacked. "so... packed?"

one of his golden-haired brothers, will, cuts him a look at that, and jesper raises his hands placatingly. " — i didn't mean it in a bad way, of course. it's just... come on, the zeus cabin is practically empty. hera doesn't even have kids, and she has a cabin. why can't the extra space be used for the overflow?"

(flings a lil apollo!jesper at u,)

@pistolslinger

Jesper's question is honest and valid, but Katie isn't sure that she's the best person to ask. The best person --- or rather, centaur and god --- to ask would probably be none other than Chiron and Lord Dionysus (affectionately, and sometimes not so affectionately, nicknamed as Mr. D). There's been lots of ideas found in camp and some are a work in progress, while others have been completed in what feels like eons ago.

The orientation video definitely needed an update, no matter what Lord Apollo has said. The cabins could do with some modern updates, too. There's rumors of the cabin members of Athena, Hephaestus, and Hecate, all coming together to make a cell phone safe for the modern day demigod and demigoddess and demititans. Really, it's quite useful for anyone that might see through the slips and cracks of the Mist, Katie thinks.

There's even a petition---started by Lou Ellen herself---to change the name of the camp to one less offensive. And some subclauses include changing the nickname of the Big House. It's a long read, even without inattentive tendencies, but an important one.

“I think it's because there's no way to really know---although I think the gods and goddesses would be able to tell, but anyways---if the stranger is means disrespect, harm, or is genuinely curious. Like trying to decide if someone in your home is intruder or friendly guest with limited information.”

The cabins at camp are supposed to honor the god or goddess, and be a safe place for their children. Somewhere between mirroring a temple and safe haven for the child of that deity, Katie thinks, as she fidgets with a strand of her hair before remembering that, oh yeah, there’s a task at hand.

“So you can understand why something like vandalism, like leaving chocolate bunnies to melt in the summer heat on a grass roof, isn’t thought of as a joke. It’s disrespectful if you ask me.”

In Katie's hands, the colors bloom brighter, and a few squirm away from her stern furrow of her brows in a mirror of her mother. The green vines wrap around her hands, trailing up her arms, as the conversation continues while she designs several flower crowns. A few of the leaves wrap around when following her hand motions, as she gives a pointed glare to the bunk beds where Travis and Connor usually sleep.

“As for Lady Hera, I think it's out of respect---hey, not so tight---!” As if understanding the slight chastisement, a long stem shrinks back and eases the grip from around her wrist, around her fingers. "---and because she is the queen and the goddess of marriage, I imagine she also decides who she wants in her home, even if it's usually empty."

"And there!" With a look of accomplishment and excitement, Katie looks up (and even that requires standing on tiptoes) at Jesper. "I made one for you, and the friends that you arrived with, so there should be six total! But you probably should count them, just to make sure. Mathematics have never been a strong area of mine.”

[what-even-is-thiss]

Fic, Sun Boy

I think we all remember that thread about Thomas being a sun nymph that fell out of Apollo’s court or something. Well... I don’t usually feel good about writing about real people so let’s just say this is a fictional character based on Thomas to make me feel better. Because that’s what it is. The real Thomas Sanders is probably not a sun nymph. Probably

Tip Jar

Warnings: Falling. 2,490 words.

Abstract: Apollo makes a tough decision.

“And here we are. This way, you’re doing great!” The young demigod walked along, straining to see anything through the blinding lights around her. The figure in front of her made of light and somehow in the form of a man held her hand with a surprising solidness and placed what felt like a pair of glasses in it. When she put them on and pushed her dark braids out of her face she saw the palace in its entirety. The ornate building was halfway buried and perhaps the biggest she had ever seen. Greek columns painted in the colors of the sunrise and sunset held up a huge dome that swirled with color and seemed to be an eternal sunset. Nymphs made of light and various deities carried around tools, instruments, medical supplies, animal grooming things, and gods know what else, hurried around on the ground and in the air. Everyone seemed to be in quite a hurry. “Wow.” She breathed, struck with awe. “Isn’t it great? Her guide said. She looked at him properly for the first time, with the aid of the glasses. He was white in appearance and glowed brightly. His eyes were honey brown, he wore a button up and a jacket, and she kind of wished he didn’t laugh so much because whenever he did it got slightly brighter for a second and it kind of hurt her eyes. They continued to walk over the incredibly long orange tiled floor, her heels clicking andhis bare feet not making a sound and a million questions burned through her mind. Of course she picked a strange one. Just like her and her nerves. “Aren’t nymphs supposed to be girls?” She said, before clasping a hand over her mouth. Her guide just laughed that deep laugh that seemed to hurt her eyes just by the sound. “Don’t Be embarrassed. It’s a common misconception.” He laughed. “I think it’s because we pick.” “You... what?” She asked, as she accidentally almost stepped on a bright orange cat that blended into the tile. “Don’t... don’t step on her. She’s a lot more dangerous than she looks.” “Duly noted.” She said, her voice a little higher than she thought it should be. “But uh, what did you mean by ‘pick’?” “Well we see gender differently than people do. We’re born from a ray of sunlight or a stray leaf or something. Those things don’t really tell you what your gender is, so we figure it out. And yes, a lot of us are girls but a lot of us also aren’t so I figured it out and I’m a boy, see?” “I... I really don’t but I’ll take your word for it.” He sure did seem to laugh a lot. “So do you know why Apollo called you here? I love the boss but he never tells me anything.” “I’m not supposed to uh, tell you. Can I ask you a question?” “Go ahead.” “Do you have a name? I know you’re... well most of you have names right?” “Most of us, but I don’t. I was never given one. But that’s okay, really. Well, here it is. It should be sunset soon. Have fun with your dad, Kendra!” He said, leaving her at the base of a huge, ornate marble throne big enough for three people to sit in comfortably. “Yikes. I’ll try.” That laugh again. The brightness was annoying. He was way too kind and fit the phrase “sunny disposition” way too well. Kendra could see why her dad liked him so much. The palace soon dimmed enough that she could take the glasses off and the walls just gave off a warm glow. He was coming. “Kendra, honey! What’s going on?” She turned her head. Oh jeez. There he was. Tank top, sunglasses, jeans, and that annoyingly flawless dark skin that she hadn’t quite inherited. Suddenly all the acne on her face felt like it was steadily growing bigger. “Heeeyyy... dad.” She said, awkwardly accepting his hug. He pulled away and sat down on the big marble chair and motioned for her to follow. “I know it’s not another couple months until summer but...” “You need a favor.” She finished. “What? No, I...” “Cool it, dad. We all know the only reason you ever call us over is to ask for favors. When you actually wanna see me you come to my house.” “Hmmm. Fair enough.” He said, suddenly seeming lost. “What’s it about? Need a monster taken care of? I’m a musician, so I don’t know about that. But you know I’ll do what you want.” “I need you to take a message.” He said, seriously. He snapped his fingers and a spirit nearby with long flowy hair placed a scroll into his hand and then went back to her business. “Uncle Hades never answers his phone.” Apollo said, placing the scroll in his daughter’s hands. “Wait, dad, you want me to... that’s insane! Isn’t this what Hermes is for?” Kendra asked, standing up in shock. “Listen, honey, calm down please. I’m asking something huge. Really truly huge. Probably the biggest favor I’ve ever asked. I can’t just send Hermes. You’re my pet. My prodigy. If i send you...” “If this is to woo some dead Hollywood actress dad, I swear...” “It’s much more important than that. This is... for him.” She looked over where he was looking and saw the sun chariot. Various light spirits were combing the giant horses and polishing the wheels, laughing and talking as they worked. The one that seemed to be the brightest was the one that had led Kendra in and brought her here. He noticed them looking and threw a smile at them and Kendra artificially returned it. “The nameless nymph you’re infatuated with?” She asked. “Why should I do it for him?” “Because I’ve moved past infatuation, and I think you remember what happens when I do that.” A silent understanding passed between them after she read the letter and it was decided that Kendra would leave at dawn. “I wish I could learn to play that.” Apollo looked over. His current boyfriend was sitting on the arm of the throne, a look in his eyes that seemed to say “I can’t believe I got into a relationship this jerk. It’s amazing.” Apollo put his guitar down and returned the look. Something must have seemed off though. “Is something wrong?” That look of genuine concern was almost enough to send the god into tears. Almost enough to tempt him to undo the entire world order just to keep that face with him forever. But he’s an Olympian. There will be no tears today. “I just had troubling dreams, that’s all.” “That’s not good. Do you want to talk?” He pulled the god of music into an embrace and stood on his knees on the throne to do it. And although Apollo was several inches taller and thousands of years older, he suddenly felt small in those arms with his head on his nymph’s shoulder. Why is it have to be a nature spirit this time? Why? When was Hades going to get back to him? “No, I’d rather not talk about it, okay?” “Okay.” And rather than sleep they spent the night talking. Apollo put the guitar in his partner’s hands and tried and failed to teach him how to place his hands. They laughed and held each other and were so tired but somehow the thought of sleep never came. As far as the spirit knew, there would be all of eternity to sleep in Apollo’s arms. More than once Apollo thought that sunny laugh and the look of absolute trust in his eyes was going to kill him. If only gods could die too. “I’m having too much fun, but it’s almost sunrise.” Apollo said. “Would you go help the others now?” “Whatever you say my lord.” He teased. Just as he turned out of sight, a mop of curly blonde hair with a pale skinny body attached to it came into view. “Hermes. Where’s...” “The kid is fine.” Hermes assured his brother. “I brought her home.” Apollo took a breath and put his sunglasses on his head. “What did Hades say?” “Always to the point. Well he’ll do it but there are two conditions.” “Only two?” “Don’t take that tone, sun man. First condition: you can’t ask for something like this again until your age doubles.” Apollo swallowed at the idea of waiting four thousand years for another favor from Hades but said nothing about it. Instead just asked what the second condition would be. Hermes looked uncharacteristically sympathetic, which was never a good sign. “If he decides to do what you think he will...” “I know he will.” “Yeah... if you say so. If he decides to, then you can’t interact with him without approval from the first six. All of them. And then conditions have to be set.” Apollo’s heart sank, but he had expected something like this. “Tell Hades I agree. And quickly. I think it’s time.” The nymph came running in just as Apollo vanished. “Ready?” He asked excitedly. Apollo smiled, not a touch of his panic showing. “Every day is so new to you, isn’t it? Hey, would you want to take your turn today?” The nymph looked a little taken aback. “But sir, the noon...” Apollo fought to not let his voice crack as he said “There are other nymphs of the noontime, babe. I think they’ll survive without you for today.” Or... forever. Prophecy. Everything inside him screamed for him to fight it. But you can’t escape a prophecy. Fighting it just makes it happen in a more painful way. Why would he make his latest true love suffer more than the others? This one won’t turn into a plant, or die too young, or fall into Tartarus. No. He deserves better. Apollo is going to make the right decision for once. They rode mostly in silence for much of the morning. Apollo felt his friend and partner lean against his shoulder in the spring sun. At last he spoke. “You understand how prophecies work, Thomas?” “Who’s Thomas?” Apollo looked over and his nymph saw steaming tears in his eyes. He kissed him on the lips for a moment. Then another. Then he pulled away. “I’m so sorry. I love you.” And the god of prophecy kicked. There was no scream. Just a look of complete betrayal as the light spirit realized he could no longer fly. That exact look that had been haunting Apollo’s dreams for months. He suspected it would never leave. It took an entire day for him to fall. The entire time he tried to forgive. Wondered why Apollo had called him a name when he had none. Used his soul and mind while he still had it, for nymphs don’t have mortal souls and only become plants and streams at their deaths. Near the end was when he began to scream. If light could cry he would. This couldn’t end. There was too much. Apollo, for all that is good in the world don’t let him fall. There was so much trust. I trusted you. You were mine. We sang together in the dead of night and I forgave you for so many things and you said I was home. Does that mean nothing? Does that mean... “Hello. I suspect you have some questions.” “What?” “That’s usually the first question. I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Thanatos.” The dark figure in a casual suit with a clipboard held out his right hand and Thomas, for that’s the only name he had been called yet, took it, very confused and let the strange man help him up. “What...” He began shaking. “There.” Thanatos pointed. Thomas looked around and had to put a hand over his mouth to hold himself back from screaming. There was his own body slowly dissolving into sunflower seeds in the meadow they were standing in. “I’m sorry to be rude, but why!?” he yelled. “Why am I still...” “Existing? Apollo. He put in a special request to give you a human soul. And a chance at reincarnation, if you’ll take it.” A sudden realization dawned on him. “He saved me. By... killing me.” “Will you please come with me? I’m a very busy god. I don’t have all day, and if we don’t get you down there you won’t remember who you are for much longer.” Hades handed him a cup and Thomas looked down at the milky white water. “I don’t usually do this in person so it’s sort of a shame you won’t remember this.” Hades said sadly. “The Lethe.” Thomas said. “It’s a bit more disgusting than I imagined it.” “That’s what they all say.” Said the daemon with the pile of cups as she lazy scratched her head. He looked down and scooped up a cupful that had as small an amount of debris in it as he could manage. “If I have to experience this big of a change, at least I won’t remember it.” Thomas said. He drank it down as fast as he could. It was cold and refreshing, like drinking ice water on a hot day. He felt his memories drifting away. But no crying now. He had a whole lifetime to do that. A lifetime. A life. That will be... nice. What’s... name. Thomas. Apollo. Light. Blank. Light. Scared. What’s... I can’t remember. I don’t know... words. Colors. Light. Scared. New. Nothing. Warm. Safe. Arms. Human. Sleep. “I miss him.” “You Miss at least ten people at any given time, brother.” “But he’s a public figure. It’s impossible to forget about him.” “Checkmate.” “Artemis! You cheated!” “No, you’re just bad at chess.” “Hey, jerk.” “What do you want, Hermes?” Read this. And I’m coming with you. Apollo read the note and his eyes grew wider with every word. “This is actually real? You’re not just forging dad’s handwriting again!?” Apollo asked excitedly. “All real, dude. We’ll go together.” Hermes never feared anybody actually squeezing him so hard he might pop before, but this felt pretty close to that now. “Next!” Apollo and Hermes came forward and introduced themselves with their fake names and gave their fake stories. Thomas smiled and Apollo couldn’t help but think about how good his human form looked up close. The hug was torturous, but those two seconds filled his heart to bursting. He saved the crying for after the event was over and cried into his half-brother’s arms. He was finally ready to truly move on. His former partner has a life. He’s happy. Hes moving on from heartbreaks. He’s making more humans happy than Apollo ever could with more kindness than he could ever muster. This was the best possible ending. They were going to be okay. Human. It was all so incredibly human.