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𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
STEPPING TOWARD THE EDGE of the reservoir, Elia felt something cold and chilling crawl up her spine. It was dark, the sun long lost below the horizon, and the shadows were stronger than ever, flocking to her heels.
The thing was, Elia didn't like using her Pa's abilities much. She was warm-blooded and bright by nature, and the dichotomy between her abilities never made her feel very good. It always felt like the shadow in her blood and the light in her flesh were trying to fight each other.
But his voice was there in her head again, low and coaxing, and Elia felt four years old again. You have not backed down from a fight yet, Σκιά Αίμα. You will not run from this one.
And he was right, so she took a deep breath and stepped out onto the water, watching shadows flock from all around to gather under her feet, supporting her on the surface of the reservoir. Yes, Titan, two could play at this game.
She advanced toward Hyperion at a leisurely pace, lazily dragging the point of her sword behind her.
Twenty feet away, the Titan of the East raised his sword— his eyes were the same gold as Kronos', but far brighter and wilder than anything Elia had ever seen.
When he spotted her, Hyperion sneered. "The sun god's brat," he mused. "Are you ready to face your Fate?"
Elia didn't flinch, her eyes the same shade as the night sky above. "Are you ready to face yours?" she countered.
"Haven't you been wondering how you're going to die?" the Titan asked, staring down at her with something almost mildly intrigued on his face.
Elia thought back to the past year, the months of wondering when she'd meet her Fated end. Would it be painful? Slow? Quick? "And what if I have?"
"Do you fear it?"
The daughter of Apollo tilted her chin up, leaning on her sword like a cane. "Do you?" she cocked her head in a challenge. "What waits for you, after it all? Tartarus once more?"
"Mortal lives are so fickle," Hyperion mused, like he found the idea pathetic. "You live so briefly. Does it ever feel like enough?"
"As sure as the sun rises, it sets just the same." If she was meant to meet her end, then the Fates had willed it. Immortals, however, would need to be made their own Fates.
Elia would gladly seal his.
The Titan gestured around at the fighting. "The sun has set on you, Elia Bassett. Where are your gods now?"
For a quick moment, Elia ran a head count of her siblings from what she could see, something in her chest loosening when she accounted for every one of them. Then her eyes widened.
Over on the hiking trail, she spotted a messy mop of dark blonde hair wielding a bow and arrow. She knew her siblings by heart— she could recognize them in the dark by simply standing near them.
