You did chose a rock after all.
Well not exactly a rock, but you did decided to sleep near the beach all alone than sharing a room with those men.
Who could blame you? You know the myths, the tales of the gods -of both genders- often harassing others.
And even gods.
You chose to sleep near the beach with a purpose: if it were for any kind of danger to occur towards you, you hoped for the tentacles thingy to come and save you again.
Even if your sleeping place might piss off the god version of Ariel.
You set yourself on your current bed-- which was the sand. The cool breeze whispering over the waves, calming your anxious heart. The moonlight shimmered on the water, almost like a promise of safety.
You wondered if you ever read about the gods's sleeping schedule. Do they need it like mortals, or is it more like a choice?
Then, it snapped: you were to have your first interaction with Hypnos tonight, the god of sleep, who could lure even the most restless soul into dreams, whether they wanted it or not.
You wondered if he, too, might come.
As the thought crossed your mind, you felt an unusual weight settle over your limbs. Your eyes fluttered, the world around you suddenly softening at the edges. The steady sound of the waves seemed to echo, growing distant.
"Is it you, Hypnos?" you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open. "Or is it just the weariness?"
The air grew heavy, wrapping around you like a thick, warm blanket. For a moment, you thought you heard the faint sound of laughter, a voice not quite human, drifting on the breeze.
Sleep was coming, and yet... something felt different. Almost too peaceful.
Just as your mind began to drift away, you felt it-an invisible touch, feather-light at first, brushing against your skin. You tensed. This wasn't the beach; it wasn't the simple weariness of a long day. There was a presence.
A whisper in your ear. "Rest now. Let the gods decide what comes next."
Then, everything went black.
.
.
You find yourself standing on an expanse of silver sand, the landscape stretching infinitely in all directions. There's no sky, no horizon-just the soft shimmer of the ground beneath you and a thick mist rolling in.
Is that how gods sleep? Staring into the void for hours? Great.
"You shouldn't be here," a deep, unfamiliar voice says behind you.
You whirl around, startled, and see a figure emerging from the mist. His form is fluid, almost like it's made of shadows and stars, but his features are sharp, regal. His dark eyes narrow, studying you with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. He doesn't speak for a moment, just watching you as though trying to solve a riddle.
"You," he says slowly, "are not supposed to be in my domain."
You swallow, unsure how to respond. His presence is overwhelming, but not threatening. Instead, it feels as if you've been caught somewhere you don't belong-like a child sneaking into a forbidden room.
"Who... are you?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
"I am Morpheus, god of dreams." He steps closer, his gaze still fixed on you, probing. "And you-" he pauses, tilting his head slightly, "you're supposed to be a goddess."
YOU ARE READING
Awakened By The Gods
Historical Fiction"For as long as you can remember, you've been obsessed with Hellenic witchcraft, drawn to the gods who rule the heavens and the depths of the earth. One night, a ritual meant to connect with them goes horribly wrong-or perhaps, fatefully right." . ...
