𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐌 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓
All that Daphne Anoixi knew, her whole life, was the world of Greek myths. She was born and raised to be a hero, a demigod worthy of a myth of her own. She used to think she was ready for everything, a girl whose...
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"Hanging out where I don't belong is nothing new to me I get tired, I get sick, and then I lose the strength to leave I can't handle change." I can't handle change - Roar
EVERYTHING WAS SPINNING.
Of course, Daphne had shadow-traveled countless times. And even though it was somewhat similar, Hecate's teleportation was also so much different.
To begin, Hecate used her transportation in a way Daphne would later on discover to be an apparition (in fact, the wizards had earned this type of teleportation when they had been created). And apparition was very unusual.
You see, in shadow travel, everything was completely dark. Your senses were almost completely turned off; you couldn't see, you couldn't smell. But you could hear the screams of the dead, the way their arms reached inside your darkness, and tried to reach a way back into the world of the living.
In apparition, however, it felt like Daphne's body was being compressed into a small piece of rubber. There was a lot of pressure, and her organs felt like they were being internally displaced– her brain seemed to be switching places with her liver. Her skin felt like it was being ripped off.
They landed in a busy narrow street, next to a small English pub. Hecate merely patted her long dress, trying to get the dust off her skirt. The mortals didn't pry an eye at them, and Daphne noticed the green mist slowly getting to Hecate's feet and then disappearing.
The goddess smiled as she looked at the mixture between mortals and wizards. "Welcome to London, Daphne."
She looked over her shoulder to see Daphne throwing up in a trash can. The goddess took an irritated breath, and the girl took her head off the bin.
"Sorry." She murmured shily, wiping her mouth. Daphne could have sworn she saw Hecate rolling her eyes.
The goddess walked gracefully while Daphne trailed after her like a lost and starving puppy. She felt like one, too. Daphne was venturing into the unknown, even if they claimed this way on her blood.
Daphne expected her first time in the UK to be a little better. She would now only have as a reference to England a dingy alleyway next to a dirty pub. Of course, she hadn't expected for Hecate to take her on a classic tour (the Big Ben was on her list of things she wanted to see once in her life), but at least something nicer than the street where Batman's parents were probably murdered on, in case he existed.
Next to the dirty pub was a massive bookshop to the right, and in front, a quality record store. Nobody on the street batted an eye at the small bar as they passed it as if it weren't ever there.
The girl coughed a little, and they walked inside said dirty pub, which wasn't that dirty inside. There were the most exquisite bunch of fellas she had ever come across, all sitting in the chairs by the bar or spread out by the cushioned chairs and the tables. The people inside didn't pay Daphne and Hecate a second glance, deeming them to be irrelevant to their eyes, just like the pub itself was on the outside.
