A Midsummer meeting

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Artemis

It had been a long day for the Goddess of the Hunt, first was the Olympian council that her father had called to try and remove the perceived threat her son was, thanks to the prophecy the boy was involved in, and more than half the council voting not to kill him, Harry was still breathing. Hopefully, with the rat that Artemis had left for the old Headmaster, Harry's Godfather would be cleared of all charges against him, and the mortals that her son had to stay with would heed her threats and not harm him any longer, but she hopes they step out of line, just to feed them to the Hunt. But Harry only had to stay with them for two weeks, just till the blood wards recharged, then she was going to send someone to get the boy and bring him to camp.

That was another thing Artemis was worried about, her Hunters, as Artemis made her way down the main street of Olympus, the crowds part out of both respect and fear as she made her way to her temple. She was not looking forward to the questions from her handmaiden's eyes that she knows will be there, all within the Hunt would have felt her claiming Harry as her child. She was avoiding it as long as she could by walking to her temple, but all too soon she found herself outside of it. Artemis sighs before walking up the steps to her silver temple, it was built to mirror the Artemision in Turkey from the outside, but stepping into the temple itself Artemis finds herself in her true temple, the wild forests that she has stalked since she had first walked this earth.

The roof was open, letting in the light of the moon and stars recreated to show them in their full glory as they were in the ancient times, Artemis could hear the soft sounds of feet upon the forest floor of her handmaidens going back and forth fulfilling their duties to hear and the hunt. Training to be midwives, fletchers, and Bowyers, to fix and repair tents, bows, and jackets, to be trained in how to handle the dead of the hunt. These were the girls who were not suited for the hunt, gentle souls who had mastered her blessing and their hunger for the Hunt, while they could and would hunt on her command, she often only switched out those of her hunt with her handmaidens when her handmaidens wanted a change of pace, it was rare but it happens. Two of the nymphs of the inner grove stop as she passes them, arms loading with damaged jackets to be cleaned and repaired, their heads bowing in greeting. As she passes them she could feel their questioning eyes on her back before she moves deeper into the woods.

The mortal and demigods that had her blessing move about the woods taking care of the other Hinds and wild creatures that called her temple home dressed in simple togas or nothing at all, No man save for one were allowed in her temple, not her father, not her brother, no man save the one she has come here to see. She passes the stuffed and mounted trophies to pass Hunts, from the Calydonian boar, to Scorpio, BigFoot, and The Draco she had slayed a few months prior. After her trophies, she comes upon the altar that stands in the middle of her temple, it was simply made from silver and low to the ground, a replica of her silver bow and horn from one of her Hinds lay on it with a large Cypress trees roots entangled the base, and before the altar, she finds the man she was looking for.

By looks alone, he would be considered a young adult in the modern world, but during the time he was from, he was a man. He looked no older than thirteen as he sat in a meditative position in front of the altar, chanting in ancient greek. Long brown hair pulled into a low ponytail, he wore a simple silver toga and no sandals, pinned to his toga was a silver emblem of the antlers of a stag, signifying his position as the high priest of her temple.

"...Rid me of doubts and clear my mind of needless thoughts, let my focus be on my duties and my duties alone, let the Hunt guide me, and in turn, I will feed it, ..."The priest says in a murmur, that it wasn't a prayer of any kind, but a chant to rid her followers of doubt in the hunt.

Book Two: A Midsummer Hunt  Where stories live. Discover now