**CURRENTLY ON HIATUS UNTIL SEPTEMBER**
In this reimagining of the Myth of Sisyphus, the King of the Underworld is trapped in the mortal realm, leaving the world in an unprecedented predicament; only his queen will do whatever it takes to free him f...
No one would ever suspect the existence of such a mortal edifice. Buried deep within the woods was a secret house built within the perfect alignment of a circle of twelve tall, grown palm trees, whose leafy hair joined together as its roof. Beautiful tableaus adorned this temple's walls—a place where women would offer prayers and songs for the sacrificial animals to their gods.
However, Artemis of the Wildland, Mistress of Animals, and Goddess of Hunt would never allow such things.
The horns on her chariot were gifts from the deer. The bear gave Artemis the fur coat she wore on her shoulders, and with it and her gilded bow, she would hunt the guinea fowl like the partridges and even the freshwater fish, too. Artemis, though, would only hunt those she knew and which had chosen to live within her sacred wood—those animals that she fed and looked after, which then gave their lives back to her.
Artemis was one of those rare deities who didn't accept any mortal sacrifices but granted those initiated to her rites her own gains. As a goddess who didn't feed on flesh, Artemis gave them another purpose instead—the one of extending other lives.
Today wouldn't be a different day in the company of Orion instead of the absent Athena, who had already left her.
Artemis carried inside her temple her heavy gains of the day. There was a deer that she laid at the heart of a stone table where grass suddenly grew on it before she added at its feet some rodents and fishes. She didn't forget the birds either, as above the deer's head, she placed some partridges which danced into the shape of a cypress leave.
Finally, her dead animal masterpiece ended with a snowfall of red amaranth flowers. The grave she made for them was so beautifully done that it would have been a crime to move any of the animal carcasses away, even for eating in their decaying flesh.
Orion, who was blind, put his hands on the table and lingered his steps around it. He was drawing the painting back into his mind, and what he saw made a tear trailing down his face. "It's like they are all still alive, playing together in the meadow." His cheekbones then lifted even higher into a frail smile. Artemis gave them a beautiful death. "May I know why you displayed them that way, even though you know my kind would just destroy your work to feed their hunger?"
"They all gracefully gave me their lives; it's my way to honour them before they leave this world," answered Artemis before Orion accidentally reached her hand on the table. Stepping back from her, Orion hastened to bow his head in respect, but Artemis only let out a hushed gasp. "Orion, don't you want me to grant your eyesight back so you can at least admire your contribution to my piece?"
At her offer, Orion knitted his eyebrows together. Any other mortal would have the desire to see what Artemis had built for their eyes in illusions and metaphors, but this man wouldn't fall for her.
"Goddess, I was born without it and as such, I can't lack what I never had. Besides, being blind is not a flaw to me; it increases all my other senses. Above it all, it leads me to put my trust in someone for their hearts rather than their appearances."
Artemis rolled her eyes at Orion's reasons before drawing nearer to him with her lips pressed together into a grimace. She felt the need to challenge his beliefs. "If I wasn't divine, would you trust me, Orion?"
As Orion sensed her breath closer to his face, a tingle spread from his finger before becoming a nervous laughter out of his mouth. Each of his words was weighed, as offending Artemis was a crime he would not risk. "You're one of a kind, Goddess Artemis; even if you were a simple mortal like me, I would still trust you with all my life and follow you wherever you'll take me."
Honesty coated the intonation of his voice, and the way each of his syllables flowed out was even more intense than the other. Artemis clenched her teeth, hoping to hear Athena say such things to her, but the truth was that Athena had always loved her duty more than love itself.
How long could Artemis keep her promise to Athena? How much longer could Artemis remain in the shadow?
Standing here in her temple alone with Orion was an excruciating pain, a test of the soul, and at last Artemis threw herself into the arms of Orion. She held him tight against her body. Yet this glimpse of affection was just another disenchantment, and Artemis only acted irrationally to catch, in extremis, a golden arrow shot right into Orion's back. Right away, she recognised the deadly weapon of her brother Apollo, but she couldn't see him anywhere.
The blind man, Orion, didn't notice the attack, but when it failed, Apollo sneaked out from the shadow. He slowly crept on tiptoes towards his target, but at last it was Artemis who found him, pointing the same golden arrow he had just wasted right into his face.
"Orion, if you trust me, as you said, please leave this place right now." Upon Artemis' request, Orion nodded and ran away as far as he could from the temple. All the fifty hounds of Artemis instantly growled at Apollo as they appeared one by one within her house, and she closed the gap between herself and her brother to confront him. "What are you doing here, Apollo?"
"Athena just left for one day, and you're already back with that Orion." Apollo shrugged his shoulders, throwing at Artemis a long, ugly laugh. When suddenly his mouth froze, his face filled with an unknown anger. "I warned you before; this will not end well. Sister Artemis, allow me to return you the favour for the death of Coronis; let me save your honour and put an end to the life of that mortal before it's too late."
Narrowing his eyes at Artemis' silence, Apollo remained unnerved by his own arrow pointed to his face—the only one whom he knew could cause him injury.
They were the opposite, the sun and the moon, two sides of the same coin—inseparable and yet different. One couldn't survive without the other.
It was on that thought that Artemis snapped, tossing the remaining arrow aside with a shake of her head. "Orion is my companion of hunt and certainly not another Coronis." Taking a step back, Artemis now stared down at Apollo. "I will not let you kill him."
Sneering at the affirmation, Apollo left the temple with Artemis frowning and yet none of them had noticed the animals on the stone table still breathing.
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