𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒, apollo

𝐢𝐯. i can talk to a god with my mind

WHEN THE LESSON ENDED I hurried out of the classroom. "Gett, where are you going?" Asked Grover.

"I have to go to the library."

My friend's brows knitted and soon Cy joined him saying, "You and library? These two things don't make sense together."

"I'll tell you later!" I yelled back at them, even though I probably won't.

As I entered the library I asked, this time quietly, "Who are you?"

You know who I am. And don't talk out loud, I can hear your thoughts just fine, or else some people might actually think that you're insane.

My eyes went wide as the voice replied. I quickened my steps as I walked to the history part of the library.

You're the guy from my dream. I stated.

I dropped my bag on a nearby table as I headed into the Greek mythology section. I didn't even know what I was looking for.

Noticing a book called The Twelve Gods of Olympus, I was about to pluck it out of the shelf, when suddenly, another book fell from the shelf on the left of me.

Confused, I picked it up. It didn't have a name on the cover so I opened the first few pages and knitted my brows as the letters weren't the ones I was familiar with.

Yet, I somehow understood the words, The Great God Apollo, it said. I took the book to my table and sat down. I was about to open the book again when I stopped.

Why did you help me? I asked, this time using my thoughts.

You asked for it.

I shook my head. Gods don't just help. They want something in return, almost always.

Maybe this is not the case, maybe I'm doing you a favor out of the goodness of my heart.

I scoffed, arguing. For doing a favor, one always wants one back.

You're right, maybe one day I'll call it in.

I leaned back in my chair, biting my lip as I thought. Nothing about this situation made sense. As if he heard my thoughts and now that I think about it he probably did, he spoke:

Gods are real, I am real. The sooner you accept that, the better.

But they're stories. I argued. They're— myths, to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff. The immortal gods of Olympus aren't real, right? This is just some weird dream!

Then what am I? The Sandman or something?

Maybe!

I heard him let out a frustrated huff. Open the book, read it. It should help you make sense of this situation.

I PINCH THE BRIDGE of my nose as I try to chew up the information. Everything I just read sounded like a joke, a myth.

So, the Greek gods, you are here? Like... in America? I finally asked.

We move along with the heart of the West. The voice replied.

He must have sensed my confusion as he explained further. The Western civilization is a living force. It's... a collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. I, the gods, are part of it. We started in Greece. Then, we moved to Rome, where we got different names— except for me, I stayed the same because I'm obviously the superior.

The last comment made me roll my eyes as I chuckled. So you... gods, you've been everywhere?

Basically. Just look at the architecture and art. There are temples and buildings all around the world for us. For whom do you think the Buckingham Palace in London was built for?

I scoffed. The royals maybe?

I imagined him rolling his eyes as he said. Obviously not. It was built for Hera. Father pissed her off, sired another child I guessed, so he made those mortals build the palace for her so that she would forgive him.

Did it work? I asked, unable to hide a smile.

His voice was playful as he replied. I think so.

I looked out the window, I must have been here a while as now the sun was setting, and the rays of sunshine lit up the library a warm, golden colour. As the light landed on me, I felt the warmth wrapping around me.

Closing my eyes, I asked again in my thoughts. How did you know the answers about Romeo and Juliet?

I heard him fake an offended scoff. Well, I am proud of my children.

That made me snap my eyes open. Shakespeare was your son?!

AUTHORS NOTE
This chapter was such an ass to write.

800+ words

-romanoff