A God's Mercy (Apollo x OC)

Chapter 13

She should've known. For a Goddess as ferocious as the Great She-Bear, it wasn't a surprise that she would become the nutrients to her bloodlust. In the end, she would end up just like Iphigenia.
Somehow, Melantriche wasn't frightened at all. Stunned, she supposed, but not scared. But dread isn't completely the same as fear, and Melantriche was feeling just that. Not because she was destined to die, but because there was something else she wasn't being told. It was obvious in that sense, because, well, Lyra had on fancy clothes, and donned white skin, and black hair. And Melantriche was clad in a simple peasant kit.

"But," Melantriche whispered. "Even though I am the sacrifice, I won't be the one to die, will I?"

Lyra smiled, her eyes filling with tears once again. She came forward and hugged her attendee.

"Lady, I was lost for a long time. When my home was overtaken, when my family of only brothers and and an old father were slaughtered, and I was raped and taken a slave, I thought I had nothing to live for. I thought I could just die. It was awful, I could tell you, being passed from one cruel master to another. But, even so, I kept going, and in the end it all paid off, because I could meet you and be able to take care of you and watch you grow up, beautiful and healthy. In that way, I was able to live happily. You gave me a real reason to live. But now, if you die, that will all be over. I'll be stuck on this earth withou-t a, a purpose." She was choking on a sob, and it was all Melantriche could do to use her shaking hands to wipe the woman's tears away and not start to cry again herself.

"That's why I'm going to take your place. The council will arrive here at the crack of dawn, along with the Priestesses so that they will know that we have committed the deed. When that time comes, you'll be long gone from here, and I will be the one to die."

"Don't die," Melantriche pleaded through tears. "Don't do this, Lyra! Don't leave me! We can still come away from all of this!"

"How?" Lyra laughed bitterly. "We may be able to run away from Athens, but we can't run away from the gods. You should know that best of all."

"Then I'll die instead, like I should!" The younger cried. "Just don't go! I don't want you to die!"

"But, if you care, then you'd listen to me, right? Just because I'll be dead doesn't mean I'll disappear." Lyra said softly. "As long as that holds true, I'll still be there with you, in every step of your life, watching over you."

"How can you watch over me from below ground?"

Lyra laughed and used her veil to wipe away the girl's tears. "You can ask the Lord Hades when you meet him. But that won't be for a while now, thanks to me, hm?"

"It won't work." Melantriche insisted, "you're too tall to look like me."

"It will work." Leida finally spoke, her voice hoarse and cracking after so long a period of silence. "Us women are not often seen in public. And it has been a time since the festival. Those old twits won't be able to tell the difference if they can help it."

The 2 girls stared at her.

"Mother.." Melantriche started. It was because of this woman that all of this was happening now. This damned harpy, and her stubborn pride which wouldn't bend even to the gods. Behind that face, once noble and lovely, even for an old maiden, an ugly green ego flourished. And look where it had gotten her! A husband, once kind, gentle, and loyal, who now turned his back to her, and a beautiful daughter now cursed and sent to live in a faraway place as a different person? Just as Melantriche had become Iphigenia of Sparta, Leida had become Niobe of Thebes. But even though these terrifyingly justified thoughts ran through Melantriche's head, she could not bring herself to hate her mother. Perhaps it was the way she looked now, the remorse etched into her lines face, the regret sunken into her wrinkled skin. In Leida's own way, she had become just as cursed. She was pitiful, and the pitiful were meant to be pitied. Instead, Melantriche stayed silent and merely listened to her instructions.

She continued, "You will depart for Tiganï. It is a small village just north of here. Aglaia and Aegeus will take you. Aglaia once served a family there, so she will know the way well, and Aegeus is a strong fellow. He is trustworthy too, so he will look after you. Once you reach the village, you mustn't stay for long, so use the money I will give you to sail away from this land. It will be enough for a while, but remember that it will run out, so use it wisely. After that, the rest will be up to you."

Melantriche's head spun. Within the next 24 hours, her fate would be decided. If this worked like everyone seemed to believe, she would be living a new life in a new place, with hardly anyone familiar around her. The chances of returning were slim indeed, and the life she led from now on would not be guaranteed a sweet, sheltered one she had live till now. But, if not, then she would be reviled as one who tried to escape the god's judgment and serve an even greater toll—in Tartarus, most likely. Oh, how she wished things could be simple, and she could just die! But as always, others decided her future for her, and she was powerless against it.

Aglaia held in her gnarled hands the giant money purse, which was obviously full to the brim. Just a little of that purse would feed all the homeless in Athens. Even more guilt dwindled upon Melantriche's shoulders. A deep voice boomed behind her, making her jump.

"The sun will rise soon, so let's hurry." He said simply. He was the same soldier that shot Lyra a dirty look earlier—Aegeus, she assumed.

"Wait," Melantriche said weakly. "Let me say goodbye to them, only for a moment."

The man gave her a frighteningly stern look, but relented with a, "Make it quick."

She hugged her father close and kissed his cheeks. He clung to her and told her that he loved her, that he would pray for her every day, but eventually she had to pull away. She hugged Lyra, for the last time, and the woman whispered in her ear, "Remember what I told you. Be brave." Melantriche swallowed down a cry.

"I love you, Lyra."

"And I you." Lyra chuckled back, and kissed her cheeks. "You'll make it, I'm positive of it."

Melantriche finally eased out of the embrace. She looked at her mother, approached her, but did not hug her. She didn't say anything, because she didn't know what to say. Leida didn't speak either.

She didn't hate Leida at all, but just like she had said, it would be a long time before she forgave her. If this plan did not succeed, then most likely never. But, as she was ushered out of the temple, and led through the dark woods by a rushing Aegeus and a nagging old Aglaia, a small fist formed against her breast, like a beacon of resolve against the utter fear she felt. Father, who loved her like no other father loved his daughter. Lyra, who dedicated her whole life to her out of her own volition, out of love. Even Leida, who, despite her flaws and foolish mistakes, looked to the future and accepted her fate without complaint.

She would never, ever forget them.