I let the wind guide me to her. I don't know where to look for the tiny kingdom of her unknown king father. In her rage, Aphrodite forgot. I drift through the day, eyes on the mortals below me. I stop in several places for a meal, a drink, a chance to make some havoc. But I am not in the mood for silly romances. My bow feels asleep today. My arrows weigh heavy across my back and I felt no urge to shoot. The sparkle of the bowstring is dull.
As the day wears out so does my patience. I can tell my hair is a mess from the air, my face feels flushed and my muscles are tight. The sun has come and gone, and the first specks of starry light begin to emerge in the sky. I can't help myself but stand and tip my head up to look at them. Swaths of dark pinks and royal purple swirl against the navy coat. Smooth as silk but deep as velvet. When I was just a new God, I had been determined to reach the sky. I had wanted so badly to escape Gaia for the open air and colour in the night.
I don't know why I can remember that. I guess I could never resist a pretty thing.
Bringing my head down again, I flick my eyes to the right. A tiny noise, barely noticeable to a mortal's ear, brought me out of my thoughts. I let my lids lower softly and narrow my gaze. There seems to be only trees and brush. Drawing an arrow, I sigh softly when it doesn't sparkle while I string it. Stupid thing. I step into the brush, perfectly silent. I let my body guide me, following the path it takes. A tiny flare of excitement and thrill pools in my chest. With each step it grows, like the build of a chord.
Finally, I see a shimmer, and slow my pace. I slide around a tree and in behind a tall sapling. Then I see it. A tiny pool in the forest, filled with tiny glowing fish and surrounded by mushrooms that radiate a soft blue light. The entire space looks like a dream. But what my eyes fall onto is a woman, sitting by the water, head bent while she washes her hair. It is long and dark and as wavy as mine. She brings her cupped hands up and lets the water fall. She is only wearing a loose chiton, and her face is away from me. The entire image radiates peace. My eyes widen, and I feel my bowstring hum. My arrow glows gold, and I quickly stuff it away. I can't look away. She turns her head to the dark forest where I stand, and her eyes and green and curious. Not scared. Then she looks back to the water. I remain hidden.
I have seen more beautiful people than there are stars in the sky. But I have never felt so bare and needing as I do in this moment. The thrill below my chest has gathered in my heart, not sharp and fast like lust, but a new feeling. Deep and strong. Desire maybe. Or maybe even.....
No.
I don't have a romance story. I don't fall in love with a mysterious woman by a glowing pool in a forest. Especially when that woman is the person I have been looking for all day.
The person I will kill.
Psyche.
The runaway princess, murderess, stunning beauty, lost soul. Stop stop stop STOP STOP. No no no NO NO NO.
How can I shoot another person if I know the feeling of love? How can I kill her if I feel the claws sinking into my heart. Thousands of years get old, but how I feel now is so very new. New and terrible and euphoric and dangerous. Almost how I feel when I jump from the balcony. But no wings can stop my falling.
Sinking my teeth hard into my lip, I get a hold of myself. This is never going to be a love story. I lift out my arrow again, still soft gold, and notch it onto the filament of my bow. I straighten out my arm, and slowly pull the other back. I close my left eye and level my hand, keeping the tension as the arrow feathers brush my chest. Today, I shoot to kill.
My breath is steady but my heart pounds through my body and my head. It booms in my ears and behind my closed eye. I set myself for release, propping up two fingers from under the arrow. My heart booms. It hasn't felt this way before and it doesn't want the feeling to go away. But I do. It's a disaster waiting. I should have known from my dreams, from the dread I felt this morning. Dread that has disappeared, replaced by this infatuation.
Curse this world. Can't I be allowed love once?
Mortals look to Gods, but who do Gods look to? I lower my bow. I turn and I run soundlessly, lifting off and hurling through the dark.
