Callas was the Celtic God of Mischief. He was banished from his Pantheon for a crime he did not mean to commit, and after a very long time, decides to head to Greece. A mistake on his part, for the most. Because now, he has to find and kill Loki, or...
The Seelie courters all had either a sullen look on their face, or a scowl. It was unusual to see them not happy. But then again, I couldn't blame them and their unusual emotions.
The Seelie Queen looked distraught, her pale face streaked with tears, her blue glowing eyes full of emotion. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a tight bun, strands that couldn't reach back framing her round delicate face.
The Seelie King, on the other hand, was the complete opposite of his wife. While she was sad, he was furious. His dark brows came down to an angry furrow, his lips a straight line. His dirty blonde hair was pulled into a loose ponytail that draped over his broad shoulder. His green unforgiving eyes glaring down at me, and promised death.
I should be quaking in my sandals with all the hate filled eyes on me, especially the Kings. But, miraculously, I manage to stand my ground. The only signs that I showed of being nervous was my shaking hands, which I was quick to clutch the side of my long blue tunic before they could notice, but I'm positive they could just sense my radiating nervousness.
"Why?" Was the first thing said- well, sneered- at me from the King.
It was a good question. Why? Why did I do it? Why did I have to be the first? Why, why, why? So many of them. So many answers.
I hadn't meant to though. I just wanted to teach the dumb God a lesson for messing with me, the God of trickery. I was too blinded by anger though, to realize when I should've stopped. And now, I have the blood of an innocent God on my hands.
My lip quivered, eyes stung with tears that begged to be shed, but I tried to blink them away.
I had to be strong. I didn't want them to pity me, because I knew they would, even if they were furious with me for what I had done.
"I hadn't meant to.." My voice cracked, making me wince. I had to be strong. Come on Callas, get a grip.
Everyone looked like as if they didn't want to deal with me. I already expect one of two things that were to be my punishment. It was their choice to decide though. What would my fate be?
They all turned to each other, like they didn't want to waste their time on me.
They spoke in hushed whispers that, unfortunately, I could not hear. And that made me ten times as nervous. Would I die? Was this to be my final moments?
My breathing picked up as I quietly tap my foot to keep me at least semi distracted. I don't want to think about it.
I don't know how long I stood there, but it felt like eternity before I heard my name being called.
"Callas." The King snapped, getting my attention rather quickly. I look up, my tapping foot coming to a stop.
"We have decided," he began, taking a pause as if he was savoring how frightened and anxious it was making me. My heart clenched, and I felt like I was being suffocated. It was painful, and brought unwelcomed tears to my eyes once again.
"You are banished from the Celtic Pantheon for the murder of our beloved God Lugh. If you dare to return, you shall be killed on sight." those were the last words I heard before a blinding white pain invaded my senses, and I was gone.
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