One Last Time - Apollo and Anastasia

One Last Memory

Apollo

11 years ago

We were in the halls of the Athenians, walking through the crowd towards the queen and princess, on the command of our father, who had wanted us to share the looks and fare of the city of the Athens, A sphere of flowers was hovering in the center of the room, next to the hearth fire. Athenians were happily walking around, talking with each others and refilling their wine goblets. They seemed to be enjoying the royalty of their queen in a magic hour.

The Queen slid down from her throne and turned towards us, a middle-aged brunette-haired woman, perfectly at ease in the midst of two great gods, which we doubted she realized, but we didn't question it considering we were disguised and she was in love with a god. She walked toward us, her auburn robes shimmering. There was happiness in her face. She seemed to walk in a column of moonlight. Next to her, a lady, who looked of just like my sisters youth, what she usually tried to play of being in her young twenties. She was wearing a white silk dress and her hair was straight and wavy in a cascade of waves, as the lights shined like the sun on sparkling waters. Her face was the most beautiful I'd ever seen, a smile that would've lit up the dark side of the world, the beauty that was more radiant than the sun, powerful enough to light the whole world with happiness. My heart felt like it was being snatched, a feeling I had been trying to avoid for centuries.

Who was she?

She was breathtakingly beautiful. I remembered the familiar feeling of such getting strong than ever before. I stared at the girl in front of me as she conversed with my sister, and ordered her lady-in-hand to get the olives as a form of gratitude and take it away. The gift that I was presenting to the princess was right in my hands, a beaten-gold mixing bowl embossed with the story of the birth of me an my sister at our sacred island Delos with our mother Leto. The Athenians having a demigod as a princess, their future queen was boasted amongst the cities of Achaeans. It was considered their highest honor, highest pride.

"A present from the king of the gods, Zeus, to the Athenians." My sister said, pushing my hand forward to present the mixing bowl to the princess.

"I express gratitude as such to," the princess smiled, accepting the gift from my hands. Our fingers brushed and a shiver went up my spine as I smiled. Her fingers were soft, but calloused, like a fingers of an archer. "I must apologize for I didn't introduce myself. Anastasia, daughter of Acacia and the god of seas himself."

Her beauty was that of a goddess, and her name of such beauty. Amongst the long halls, her beauty shined like a ray of the sun, vital and gold, even drawing the eye of my own even against my will. Her mouth was a soft rose, her face smart and sharp, unlike those of any ages amongst her. Her skin looked as soft as a tulip, and her fingers were long. Her dark hair behind in a bun with an crown of laurels, framed her face beautifully.

Anastasia, I thought to myself again.

She was talking with my sister, but for a second our eyes met, and I felt a shock run through my spine. I spun around, coughing around and walking amongst the other men who were busy talking about warfare, and busied myself with my wine. My cheeks were red, and my skin prickled as if under the sun. When, at last, I tried, and tried harder to look up again, and when I did she was still looking at me. She smiled, and waved at me. I smiled back, desperately not trying to make a joke of myself.

After that, I was careful, kept my head down and my eyes on my lap. But she was craftier still. At least once a dinner he would turn and catch me before I could feign indifference. Those seconds, half seconds, that the line of our gaze connected, were the only second in my years of living after my last tragedy had I felt anything similar to love.