Control yourself.
“We may not have succeeded with the relics, but another option is at our disposal.” Athena spoke again, eyeing Eros as he got closer to her.
“How do you propose to proceed this time?” he asked, his voice intensifying, a glimmer of irritation visible in his eyes.
Artemis’s hand curled around her dagger. “We’ll find a way.” She nodded as a gulp traveled down her throat. She knew too well how powerful her father was.
Athena narrowed her eyes, and she swallowed the difficult lump that was lodged in her throat. She swiftly directed her gaze towards the three gods.
“Should they not possess any of the three relics, they must spill the sacred blood of a relative of equal standing as a sacrificial offering.” She continued reading out loud and paused briefly as she gripped the book harder between her fingers. “The body must be exsanguinated, leaving behind only an empty shell to decompose over time.“
“We have to kill and drain the blood of the only brother Zeus has?” Artemis stated, her eyes widening.
Hades’ gravelly voice followed her question. “Poseidon.”
“I shall undertake this task personally. I never cared for him anyway,” Eros stated and in an instant, he left the room, his bow materializing between his fingers.
Who, pray tell, actually cared for him?
There it is.
Arising from the tormented sea like a palace made from liquid metal stood the house of none other than Poseidon himself. The ground where his house stood soared above the forceful waves, its polished smooth walls glimmered in the soft light of the moon that was quietly watching over Elythra.
Murals of tedious storms and massive leviathans, with the most beautiful sea-inspired colors, were etched onto the shimmering walls. The palace was adorned with colossal silvery doors on each side, their height matched by windows that allowed views of the beautifully carved marble interior.
As the sea became more agitated, its waves produced a sound of despair, almost as though they were aware of the impending death of their king.
Such a distressing image.
The four gods made their way onto the glass floor which served as the entrance to the house with slow, composed steps. Only Hades seemed to be gliding, moving as if they were a collection of shadowy beings.
Shadow noted that each of them held their weapons tightly, prepared to carry out the prophecy and ultimately end Zeus’s reign. Their face betrayed a flinch of fear. They knew that attempting to kill a god such as Poseidon would not be an easy undertaking.
“We cannot afford to waste any time in speaking with him or in giving any information to him,” Athena declared, her eyes scanning the other gods to ensure her words were clearly understood. “We must act swiftly to preclude any potential reaction from him.”
Eros’s jaw clenched, and he turned his gaze away, focusing on the palace they were approaching—it was as if he could already envision the throne, where he intended to assassinate Poseidon. “He will not be able to perceive us. His death will arrive soon.”
I must say that I do not find your villainous tendencies unpleasant.
As they moved forward, Shadow could feel death drawing closer, a sense intensified by the impression that even the glass beneath their feet was twisting in sorrow. The waves grew in height and force, and before they reached the doors, water flooded around their feet, appearing as if it was warning them not to cross the threshold into their king’s house.
Artemis and Athena continued walking through the water, casting subtle, swift glances at their legs while Hades floated from the ground. On the other side, it seemed that Eros did not even pay any attention to the water. Killing Poseidon was the only thing he was focused on.
The abrupt opening of the doors appeared to startle the waves, causing their retreat. As they entered into Poseidon’s palace, an immediate expression of shock was on each of the gods’ faces.
The path toward the throne was once beautifully surrounded by water, where vibrant, diverse fish and flourishing seagrass thrived; it now only revealed pale, upward-facing bellies of dead fish as they floated on the water’s surface.
Tragic.
Athena spoke, her voice barely audible. “Something must be wrong.”
“Undoubtedly,” Hades answered, cocking a brow as he cast furtive glances over each detail of the palace.
As he stomped toward the throne, Eros’s face was tight with barely contained rage; his steps quickening with each stride. “Where is he?”
His voice bounced off the glass walls, creating a sensation that was akin to a knife’s sharp edge cutting through a piece of coarse metal. An ominous presence hung in the air, and Shadowcould sense someone’s existence but couldn’t yet figure out who it was.
He glided above the floor, swiftly examining the deceased animals floating on its surface, and the instant he reached the throne, he noticed Eros’s quivering fingers gripping his bow. The sight of his rage and despair, which shown in his eyes as he fiercely searched for Poseidon, was something Shadow had never seen in him before.
