The Heart of Love

CHAPTER THREE

Two Thousand Years Ago

Sardinia, Greece

Eros

It must have been my imagination, I...I could not have failed? I've never failed to do what my mother has asked of me, not even once. I started the war that launched a thousand ships at her request, though there was interference from Eris. But she requested I hit Helen and Paris with arrows and I complied, even knowing she was married, even knowing it was would ignite a war. I..I always do as she asked, because...she's my mother. So why didn't I pick one of those lepers in the crowd and just get it over with? Why didn't I obey?

It must have been some kind of fluke, I was entranced by the mortal's beauty. That must be it! I'm going to ignore the fact that I grew up on Olympus, that I have been surrounded by beauty in all forms my entire life. That my mother is the goddess of beauty! Because it had to be her beauty that stopped me. It...simply had to be.

You know I really should get to the bottom of this now. Shot her with an arrow and point her into the direction of a monstrous man who will crush her spirit and make her die day by day. Subconsciously, I rub my chest confused by the strange ache that just formed in my chest at the thought of that.

I don't care about a mortal. I'm immune from the power I wield. Eros, god of love, who's never experienced the very thing that he doles out with a little golden arrow. I'll let you in on a secret about my arrows. No one know where they came from, they appeared at my parent's villa with a letter addressed to me. I was an infant at the time. So who knew that these would belong to me?

My father hid them in his armory until he felt I was old enough to wield such a power. His previously believed, completely invincible armory. I was six when I broke in and found them. Far, far too young to yield them. But they were mine. I remember touching the quiver and bow and the gold glowed at my touch, shrinking to my size, and when I slung them on...it was probably the closest thing to love I've ever felt in that moment. They simply belonged to me. I have barely taken them off since that day. They grew with me, and as I aged, the more I learned about them.

My arrows, they can induce the deepest of emotions, can spur lust, inflame passion, and create love. But...they have their limits. I cannot touch those who experience the truest of love. I learned this lesson the hard way. With my grandfather.

My grandfather, I'm going to take a guess that you've heard of him, maybe in passing? He has a fondness for changing into animals and knocking up mortals and gods alike. I may have been involved in a lot of those couplings, which earned me the eternal hatred of my grandmother, but what's a god of love to do?

I was drunk on the power, I'll admit it. Why did I have the ability to make the king of the gods a slave to his desires? Why could I affect gods from the strongest to the weakest? I...abused it. To say the least. But something happened, a thousand years ago. My grandfather...he changed, and slowly, my arrows stopped having an effect on him. It was frustrating, confusing, and to be completely honest? I was...disappointed. I thought it was me, that I had changed, or that the arrows had a limited amount of uses. My mother eventually explained to me the truth.

My golden boy, do you not know the meaning of true love? I...I didn't. True love doesn't exist on Olympus right? Right?

I remember my mother stroking my hair softly, though Zeus has strayed and wandered, and you played your part in it, my mischievous little angel, he has and always will be in love with his wife, his queen.

Shocking right? Zeus...actually loved Hera?

My mother's laugh skated along my skin like the clouds when I fly through them the feeling of a little mist coating my skin, and the rush of freedom that my wings provide.