The Demigod Games

Chapter Thirty

Another couple of nights had passed where all of tributes fell into a restless sleep, crowded by unsettling dreams and constant fear. Little did they how the arena would transform overnight, grass sprouted from seemingly nowhere and trees had arose as well.

No longer was the arena a sandy, deadly desert nor a sea of monsters, the arena was pleasant forest.

Edward could barely remember any events from the previous day. He only thought of the anger that poisoned his body and a massive wave that drove him to his current location. He muttered a quick thank-you to Mars, grateful that he hadn't drowned in the monstrous seas.

But he didn't remember his purpose the day before. It seemed to have washed out of him as the tide had.

Edward supposed it didn't matter, for he would have remembered any thoughts of that.

That morning, he woke to the sound of birds chirping free the tree-tops. He forgot for a mere second where he was until it stuck him suddenly. Surprise flooded him, leaving Edward curious of the Gods' intention on giving the demigods an area they were familiar with.

That's when it all came back to him, flashes of an axe striking down kids his own age flooded into his mind. A pain struck across him emotionally, causing him to clench onto his head in dis pair. What has he done?

--

Aelia smiled to herself as her fingers brushed along fresh leaves for the first time in a while. Her happiness drifted away as quickly as it came, remembering all that she had seen in the previous week.

A glowing figure stood above her, the Goddess of the Hearth herself. "Aelia. You must wake now."

"I'm already up, Lady Hestia."

Hestia's hard expression did not waiver. "There is no need to address me as Lady Hestia. You may call me Tia, Aelia."

"But you are a Goddess," Aelia pointed out, rising to her feet. Once she stood, she was several inches taller than the young form of the Goddess of the hunt. "It's out of respect for you."

"It is not necessary," Hestia repeated, almost monotone. "I'm not longer a Goddess. My everlasting life was never as precious as that of a human."

Hestia then lowered herself to the fresh grass, her gaze fixed on the tiny ants crawling between blades. The Gods had done a thorough job overnight. While immortal, Hestia rarely noticed the smallest details. Every event in history was just a blur of wars, death, love, and friendship. In the end, it all began to merge together. All Hestia had was an infinite past and dwindling future.

Still, Hestia hadn't successfully come up with a theory to explain how it had all happened. Zeus was the king of the Gods, but Hestia never would have guessed that Zeus had the power to take away immortality at will. Granted, he could give immortality at any given time, so it made sense for him to have the ability of taking it away. But Hestia wasn't a hero granted a never ending life. She was Hestia, daughter of Kronos and Rhea. Sister of Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, and Hera. Hestia was the last Goddess on Mount Olympus when the Titans rised once more. She wasn't just a pawn for the Gods to use. Hestia was her own entity, the hearth, the home. How had the Gods gotten so far away from the ideal of working in harmony?

Not only were the Gods pitting their children against each other, they were creating enemies amongst themselves. Mount Olympus itself was a war-zone waiting to happen. Even the minor Gods began to choose their favorite demigods and cheer them to victory or complain once they died.

Hestia knew it what it was all for, but she also acknowledged that this was not the correct way to accomplish such a task. Resentment flooded her judgment.