The Primordials Book One - Olympus: A Pantheon Divided

Chapter Two - The Middle of the Sky

"A little learning is a dang'rous thing;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring."

- Alexander Pope

-----

The song of a nearby stream is what wakes me. It is a sound I'm all too familiar with; I know what it means, and I know what it will bring.

Who it will bring.

I have been having the same dream for weeks now, and it always starts with this: the singing stream.

I inhale deeply a rose-scented breeze as it passes under my nose, and feel the sure warmth on my skin from the fire in the nearby pit. It is so real, I forget it is not as my eyes drift open, heavy with the remnants of deep sleep that always lures me here.

This place looks and feels as ancient as always, this exquisite tholos; a temple of white marble nestled into the side of a mountain. Swaths of pale blue and sea foam gossamer hang between the columns that support the temple's roof. Just as Atlas holds up the world.

The high moon bright and full in the sky tonight, and the stars scattered about in an choreographed dance. I can see them shining through the gossamer, and I smile. I always wake up here when I close my eyes to dream, having learned to crave this place as the weeks go by.

Where this place truly is, I have no idea. Knowing I have been here before, though, comforts me. A white, one-shouldered chiffon is draped over my body; the folds brush the floor at my bare feet, sighing and whisper as my body moves. My blonde hair falls in soft waves and curls to the small of my back, dancing gently with the curtains in the breeze.

The scent of roses grows stronger and the fire in the center pit dances. Shadows flicker along the columns as I move towards the furniture, a simple gilded kline with cream-colored cushions and a matching four-legged table within reach.

I do not need to wait for him. I already know from experience that he's been here all along, watching me.

"Remember me, kardiá mou..."

'My heart', he calls me in that damningly heated voice, as though I am his. And of course I am. He knows I can never resist him for very long, no matter how hard I try. I feel like he means the endearment... Or maybe he doesn't. I can never tell with him, because I almost certain he's done all this before. I'm not the first, and I won't be the last, but right now, I'm the only one.

"Remember you?"  I asked, confused. "How could I ever forget?"

But damn it, I always do. When I wake up in the morning, I've forgotten his name by the time I shut my alarm off. I know that voice. I swear, I do. But even after all this time, who it belongs to escapes me.

"You must not forget me, Natassa. You must remember me."

My name on his tongue makes me quiver; I can tell me knows me, deeply, just by the tone of his voice. The breath in my throat is soft and shallow as a flush takes my skin by storm. His voice is so deep that I can feel it in my chest, reaching into my soul. All I hear is smooth honey that makes the tiny hairs on my body stand. The languid smile that pulls at my mouth is instinct.

"Never, my Lord," I breathe, the catch in my voice giving away just how much he has affected me in so little time.

When he steps out from behind a column, my eyes are trained on him immediately. His silhouette against the gossamer is tall and broad. Being haunted by that figure night and day makes me tighten my thighs. A warmth begins to spread from my stomach as the need to lay eyes on him fills me.

I am captive.

His long, dark blonde hair rivals even mine, tumbling past shoulders so broad and golden that I am wondering how the column was able to obscure him completely. It isn't hard to see that he would tower over me even if I were standing. Even with a tall torso, white silk trousers ride low on slim hips and wraps around legs that much longer than a mile. They certainly do little to hide how well-endowed he is, much to my satisfaction.

Searing eyes that promise the entire universe collide with mine. Yet again, I am struck speechless. The volatile mixture of storm grey and cosmic blue reaches even deeper than my soul- and it hurts, but in a good way. My heart skips a beat and my breath catches in my throat. My eyes lower to half-mast as a warmth settles in my stomach. I know those eyes... I remember those eyes.

But they are different than before.

Before, they always smoldered with a heat that surpassed the fire in the pit. Before, they always smiled. But now, they are so suddenly full of sorrow that I can feel it replace the warmth in my soul with dread.

My heart plummets into my stomach as I blink, taken aback. Why is he is sad? Have I done something wrong? I lean towards him, open my mouth to speak, but he stays me with a hand.

"No..." he tries to answer, reading my thoughts.

His voice is so suddenly tragic that my heart stops. His movements are lethargic as he comes toward me, the complete opposite of the sure steps he took before. Too late, I want to run to him now, feeling foolish for keeping my seat on the kline. I feel my muscles tense and flex, but as commanded, I don't budge. I frown and make to move again- and still nothing. I can't move, and it isn't for lack of trying.

Something is holding my back, holding me down, making me hesitate. And surprisingly, it isn't him anymore.

Why am I hesitating....?

Don't I know him....?

"Natassa..." he whispers brokenly.

Reaching out to him is the only chance I have. After struggling to overcome the weight of my arms to reach for him, he lifts a hand to me- but then he hesitates, too.

I take a deep breath as a pain I never experienced before settles deep inside of my soul. Something is wrong. Something is so terribly wrong...

There are tears swelling and spilling over onto my cheek, and I don't have the strength to stop them. I want to shake my head, to deny what's happening, but I can't. I don't even know what's going on- I just know that this is wrong, somehow, and I definitely don't like the feeling.

"Do you remember who made you forget? Do you remember who took you from me?"

I open my mouth to answer, but no sound comes. There was no time, anyway, not with this cold darkness sinking into my bones to paralyze me. My sharp inhale echoes in my ears just as our fingers brush, and I am too weak to push it away as it closes in.

That last thing I hear is the heavy flapping of wings.