An excitable archaeologist meets a reclusive immortal Titan. The two have to work together to save the world from certain doom. Sounds simple enough, right? Well, it would be if the most primordial evils weren't standing in their way...
Join Kass...
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Aphrodite...
Prometheus took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment at that all too familiar voice.
Hephaestus cleared his throat. "Wife... I was not expecting you."
When Prometheus opened his eyes, he saw the God of Fire scratching the back of his neck nervously, as though he were nothing more than an awkward mortal teen. Hephaestus had never been known for his social skills.
"No, I don't suppose you were, given that you abandoned your workshop under Mount Etna without telling me."
Prometheus avoided looking at Aphrodite. Even for a Titan, her divine beauty was befuddling. It did not matter who you were; if love and romance mattered to you in any manner, Aphrodite could be painfully convincing. As it stood, when she spoke to her husband, the accusation in her voice was clear enough to make Prometheus wince. Beside him, Kass moved to turn around. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder to keep her in place.
Hephaestus, the giant lump of muscle and brawn, was quaking in his sandals. "Well, I—er—I was planning to tell you, but things just got so busy with the move—"
"Really? Because that is the same thing you said about Lemnos, and Lipara, and Hiera, and even Imbros." There was a rage swelling in Aphrodite's voice that tickled at deeper parts of Prometheus.
Hephaestus gritted his teeth and dropped his hand to his sides. He looked over Prometheus' shoulder at the Goddess of love. "I... I suppose you're right. It makes one wonder what the common denominator might be..."
Prometheus' eyes widened. Hephaestus may be daft, but that was suicide.
"Husband, you are skating on thin ice," Aphrodite warned.
"Poor communication!"
The words squeaked out of Kassandra before she could bring her hands up to cover her mouth. Prometheus froze.
A shrill, "Excuse me?", pierced the air.
Before Prometheus could stop her, Kass whirled around and held her hands up defensively. "What I meant is that you guys are clearly having trouble communicating. No big deal. Happens to everyone, right?"
Prometheus shook his head at the uppity mortal, but she was already looking at Aphrodite, enraptured. Kassandra was supposed to be an archaeologist. A scholar. A connoisseur of Greek history and mythology. Surely, she knew better than to step into a marital spat between The Goddess of Love and the God of Fire.
Knowing that he had little choice but to join the fray now that Kassandra had thrown herself into it, Prometheus turned around.
Aphrodite was a vision to behold. As the Goddess of Love, she was the very definition of beauty. Long auburn hair cascaded in soft waves around her curvaceous frame. Her artfully draped bone silk chiton embraced each of her curves like an enraptured lover. Plump, crimson bow-shaped lips curved in a smile that hinted at whispered confessions of love and intimate pillow talk. Aphrodite's eyes, though, they were the true wonder of her form. When anyone looked into her eyes, human or mortal, they would be the colour of that individual's soulmate.
