𝑃𝐻𝑂𝐸𝐵𝑈𝑆. (𝑂𝑓 𝐺𝑜𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑀𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠)

nine - now

Now.

Apollo walked among the streets of Argos, Hera's most sacred of cities, as its very foundation cracked under the hands of the healing god. Where there once was joy and laughter, the city now knew only pain and anguish. Children clung to dying parents and parents begged for the mercy of the gods to spare their suffering children. Apollo was the only god able to grant the city its salvation. He listened to their pleas, he heeded their prayers, and he did not answer.

Invisible to the mortal eye, Apollo made his way across the Argive streets, soaking in the pain of those around him and educing his own back out into the world. Hades walked not too far behind him and the god of the dead watched as Apollo created literal death itself. It spun like heavy black swirls out of his hands onto the streets and into the waters. Tendrils of plague wove their way across buildings, directly into the soils and livestock food supply. Those unaffected now would no doubt feel the wrath of such sickness later, Apollo was making sure of that.

A moral question awoke in Hades mind. He wondered whether or not the deaths of these people would ever truly be justified? Hades had little care for the lives of mortals, living amongst the dead did that to a person, but he couldn't help the squeezing in his chest at the sight of innocents dying. The one question that kept coming to his mind was whether or not he would do the same had he and Persephone been in Apollo and Adoria's positions. The answer always remained the same, and so Hades followed his friend into the darkness.

Apollo looked around as he came to the heart of the city, looking for the right person. And there she was, right where he knew she would be. The gods blessed certain people when they were born, it was their way of reminding the mortals that they were powerful beings who blessed those loyal to them and reigned down destruction on the opposed. Ophelia was young, but she was incredibly gifted in the ways of healing. She was at the front lines of the battle to counter the effects of the plague that, overnight, had rampaged her city. Of course she was, it was the very innate nature Apollo had instilled in her, the need to help and heal, that brought her here.

As Ophelia lifted a bucket full of water and cloths being used to cool down the afflicted her grey eyes met sharp blue ones. She knew him, she could never forget the face of the man - the god - that blessed her, no matter how young she had been. The bucket dropped out of her hands and landed with a loud crash to the stone floor. Eyes from various citizens focused on the girl, concerned that she too might have begun feeling the effects of the sickness.

"You have come to save us." Tears welled up in her eyes and her rang loud with hope. And with the tiniest shake of his head, Apollo smashed the girl's hope to pieces. It became clear to her then, "this was you. You did this to us." A nod, then a question. "Why?"

To the rest of the citizens it looked as though the girl were talking to no one. Apollo ignored her question. Instead, with an upward swipe of his hand her eyes glazed over, the color of them becoming foggy, something of concern to everyone around her. Her feet lifted until she was floating only a couple of inches or so off of the ground. It was then that those around her realized the divine intervention that had begun.

Blessing everyone with divine sight was unheard of, a rule that not even Apollo in his anger would break. But there were ways around that, like giving an already blessed human the knowledge of all that had come to pass. She was fed Apollo's memories and filled with his emotions; first his happiness, then came his grief, and finally rage. Her body dropped into a heap on the floor not a second later and she shook with violent sobs as she remembered the pain he had shared with her. It was emotional pain that had manifested into something physical.

A few people around her helped the girl to her feet but her eyes never strayed from the god still far in front of her. As she stared at him, she spoke to them. "He is angry. The god of prophecies is angry, he comes with a warning."