A Fool’s Love (II)

Next Morning.

The first rays of dawn illuminated Trier, the Sun City, in golden and orange palettes. The auric beams corralled in the heart of the city, in which Delphi—the headquarters of the Temple of the Eternal Blazing Sun—perched atop a divine mountain.

Delphi is the epicentre of civilization and the earth. It was the birthplace of just about everything epochal that shaped the civilization into what it is today, and it is still guiding the civilization along the appropriate path.

The infamous maze of Destiny lies in the centre of Delphi, and within it was the personal solar of the Eternal Blazing Sun himself.

And Apollo was there, reclining in his comfy chair. He was examining the report submitted by his angels while drinking coffee—his usual morning routine nowadays.

The report focused on the changes in his civilization and faith over the previous month. There was nothing new to see; just the usual stuff, and, as a side note, not a single person had passed through the trails he had set up for the opportunity to become his new angel.

Apollo sighed in disappointment and signed the report. He looked up to see Anastasia and Nicholas, his Angels of Order and Twilight, standing before him, waiting for his commands.

"Is there anything else?" he asked.

Nicholas and Anastasia exchanged perceptive glances. Then his Angel of Order spoke up, her posture as taut as ever.

"There has been a troubling development with one of your legacies, Milord."

"Who?" Apollo raised his brows in curiosity.

"Cadmus, son of Agenor and Telephassa." Anastasia reported and stared at Apollo. He motioned for her to continue. "He had arrived in Delphi yesterday to seek answers from the Oracle about his missing sister."

"After hearing his report on the circumstances surrounding his sister's disappearance, we suspect divine intervention."

Apollo thrummed his fingers on his table. "It was my father who kidnapped Cadmus' sister, Europa, to gratify his own Desire."

Anastasia and Nicholas shifted nervously in their places.

The Angel of Order asked after a bout of silence. "What is your order, Milord?"

"How does my mother feel about this?" Apollo asked back.

"She wants to assist in his path regardless." Anastasia said.

"Then, it is decided. Cadmus' fate is wrought with wisdom and war." Apollo nodded, finalising. "Nevertheless, the Delphi Oracle shall provide him with guidance on his path of Destiny."

Anastasia nodded, a wave of relief pouring over her as her ever-strenuous posture melted. Apollo then raised his brows and looked at Nicholas.

Nicholas said. "My lord." He took a breather. "Since last night, the underworld has become different."

"Different?" Apollo frowned. Last night, that couldn't be a coincidence.

Underworld was a place even he couldn't pry through since it is connected to the realms of three primordials: Nyx, Erebus, and Tartarus.

"Darkness and Night." Nicholas put it subtly. "They are confronting each other."

Apollo sighed inwardly. His mind flashed back to the last two lines of the prophecy.

'Tenebours and Night unite, razed while torn,'

'Eternal Darkness shall rise; a cosmic power born.'

It is as he feared. His battle with his father will not be the only one that will determine the fate of the universe.

Erebus and Nyx....

Apollo thrummed his fingers on the armrest. Despite the concealment of Destiny, they must have somehow sensed the impending Fate since the prophecy involves them; or it could be that the concepts of night and darkness are simply responding to Destiny; or...

He had a lot of guesses. But one thing was certain: allying with him gave Nyx a real chance at freedom. Their alliance was entirely based on leaps of faith (totally not the best kind). He was also not certain that he could help her with the limitations on her divinity. But here he was becoming the primary cause behind it.

Death's words flashed through his mind: "Your every action and choice has an impact on the grand scheme of things; you may not realise it right now, but it has an influence on everything in the substratum of reality."

He was gradually realising what it truly meant.

Apollo looked at Nicholas and Anastasia, who were patiently waiting for his next order without interrupting his thoughts.

He fixed his gaze on Nicholas. "Just keep an eye on the situation, Nicholas."

"Yes, Milord." Nicholas unequivocally accepted his order.

"Anything else?" Apollo inquired, his hands on his chin.

"Milord." Anastasia inquired. "What about Cynthia and Castor? Their mission..."

"They will be returning soon." Apollo stated. "Their task is nearly finished."

"Speaking of their task," he continued. "I am leaving for Omnipotence City for the Council of Godheads by tonight in relation to its matter. If any problems arise on Earth while I am away, pray to me immediately."

"Yes, milord." They said it in unison, bowing to him.

"You can leave." Apollo dismissed them.

He took out his sketchbook and pencil. He had promised Melpomene, the muse of tragedy, a drawing after he lost in a game with her last week.

Apollo placed the pencil on his book and stared blankly at it for a few minutes. The sunshine in his solar deepened, bathing him in auric tones.

He sighed, frustrated. Melpomene's drawing has to wait. He couldn't find inspiration. It was embarrassing, he knows; after all, he was the God of Art. But he couldn't concentrate on the drawing with the lines of his prophecy buzzing in his head.

Apollo sat back in his chair, his sketchbook on the table. He took a half-empty cup of coffee in his hand and began drinking it while allowing his thoughts to float away.

The reason he was so concerned about the prophecy of Destiny is because of what it truly symbolised. As the God of Prophecy, he understood that better than anyone.

A prophecy does more than merely foretell the future; it shapes it. Once a Prophecy is spoken, it will be fulfilled in one way or another. It is a seed that is planted in the stream of time, which will bloom into the tree of future.

You might be thinking: If prophecy could be used to manipulate the future, it could control fate itself in retrospect. Why aren't you making your own prophecies already? It might just solve all of your problems, Apollo.

If only everything was that simple. Apollo exhaled a sigh. His divinity was insufficient; he needed a Destiny-related authority to accomplish this. And as if that were even possible with the Fates breathing down his neck.

Returning to his prophecy, it is not binding, but the core principles he devised about it are still eternal—a prophecy is both a blessing and a curse, regardless. And he truly had no idea what to make of Destiny's intervention. Everything considered, it should be help from Destiny.

But, as the saying goes, nothing comes without a price....

Apollo sipped the last of his coffee and traced the edges of the empty cup with his fingers. The coffee is actually brewed by Hecate; he had been teaching her how to cook and brew during their free time while he prepared their breakfast.

They had their brunch and arrived at Delphi together. Hecate went to her wizard tower to begin her preparations for his request to cast a universal spell, while he teleported to his solar to review the report submitted by his angels.

As he was musing about his wonderful morning, Calliope, the Muse of Poetry, materialised in front of the door and knocked.

"My Musagetes." Her voice was like a lullaby, filling the solar with serenity.

Apollo turned to her, his thoughts restrained. "Calliope, come in."

The nine muses were his attendants. They share some of his responsibilities and duties over civilization; he and the muses were the progenitors of all art, music, and literature in Western civilization. They give humans the spark of inspiration, guiding them from the shadows.

Along with him, Anastasia, and Themis, the muses contributed to the creation of Law and Order in human civilization. They even got involved with Athena's institutions as well as Hermes' administration of commerce and trade.

In a nutshell, human civilization is truly just a big group project of the Gods and Goddesses. He, Hermes, and the Nine Muses got together many nights over the years to brainstorm for ideas on the proper and ordered development of human civilization, though they spent most of the time just playing new and ridiculous games Hermes had invented. His little brother's imagination is truly limitless; he wouldn't be surprised if Hermes rose to become the God of Games in the future.

Back to the Nine Muses: they wield even more power over Western civilization than the majority of gods. Only he, Athena, Hermes, and Hestia surpassed them....

Calliope walked into the solar, fiddling with the hem of her pure white gown. She was exuding a great deal of nervous energy.

"Take a seat." Apollo pointed to the chair in front of him. "And tell me what happened? Are you still facing a block in your poetry?"

"No," Calliope said as she sat down in the seat. "I got through it," she said dreamily. "I found my inspiration."

Apollo knew all too well about the dreamily look that Calliope had in her oceanic blue eyes when she uttered "my inspiration."

He perked up. "So who is the lucky one who gave you inspiration?"

Calliope did her hardest to conceal her blush. "My Musagetes," she said, gathering her courage. "I'm actually here to consult with you on this."

"You've come to the right place." Apollo smiled. "Tell me; I am all ears."

"I want your blessing." Calliope smiled dreamily. "in order to court him."

Apollo immediately blessed her. "You have it." He paused. "If you truly believe he is the one for you, go ahead and court him."

Calliope chewed her lower lip and fiddled with the hem of her gown again.

"What?" Apollo frowned, sensing her anxiety and uncertainty. "Is he not—"

"No." Calliope cut in right away. "He is the one, Musagetes." She took a deep breath. "It's just his identity that bothers me."

"Who is he, Calliope?" Apollo pressed, even though he already knew who Calliope's super-sensitive and super-secretive boyfriend was.

"Morpheus," Calliope uttered.

"Dream, huh?" Apollo arched his brow. "I can't say I am not impressed." He looked her up and down with pride. "You managed to woo an Endless, Calliope."

"Stop teasing me, Musagetes." Calliope placed her hands over her crimson face. "We had only seen each other a few times. Nothing has happened yet, even though he is so sweet and loving in his own way."

Dream being sweet and loving? Are you certain that we are talking about the same Morpheus, Calliope? Apollo mused. But he didn't express his thoughts to her, instead he focused on her troubles and what she truly meant by his blessings.

He sighed, "Calliope, I will not give you the false Hope that you seek from me—that everything will be fine in your relationship with Dream."

Apollo looked at her in the eyes as she listened with rapt attention. "Dream is an Endless. You are indeed right to feel troubled over his identity. An relationship with an endless more often than not ends in tragedy."

"They are beings of such power that all of their relationships with lower beings are always fraught with difficulties and uncertainties, whether they intended it or not," she flinched at his words, "but if you love Dream and he also truly loves you back, then go for it with all your heart, since that's all that matters."

"I don't understand, m-my mustages." Calliope said, her voice quivering. "Are you encouraging or discouraging me?"

"Neither." Apollo shook his head. "I only want you to be fully aware of what you are getting yourself into."

"In the end, Calliope, the choice is yours."

After a few moments of heavy and deliberative silence, Calliope nodded firmly, her eyes as clear than ever. "I have made my choice."

"Do tell me how it went." Apollo smiled reassuringly.

"I will." Calliope stood up from her seat. Her figure gradually faded away into light particles.

However, Calliope suddenly turned to Apollo. "Do I still have your blessing, my Musagetes?" she inquired, as if certain he was already aware of her decision.

"Silly girl," Apollo gently chided. "You always have my blessings."

Calliope smiled fleetingly before fading in the shrinking brilliance of glitter.

Apollo peered at the fading light particles in the air. "Love truly makes a fool out of everyone.." he exhaled a heavy sigh filled with emotions.

He then took the empty sketchbook and began work on his next masterpiece, dedicated to Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy.

Apollo was so engrossed in his drawing that he lost track of time until Hecate jolted him out of it.... "It's time, Apollo." As she walked into the solar, her eyes were drawn to his sketchbook.

"Is it already?" He looked back. The twilight sun was setting on the horizon.

"You lose track of time while drawing." Hecate noted. "It has to be a masterpiece then."

"My love," Apollo turned towards her and flashed a brilliant smile. "My every work of art is a masterpiece."

Hecate snorted. "Let me see it."

"It's not finished yet." Apollo tucked his sketchbook into his desk drawer.

"Does it at least have a title?" Hecate hummed.

"A fool's love." Apollo started at Hecate.

Hecate returned his stare in silence for a moment before asking quietly. "Is it about us?"

"No." Apollo shook his head. "It's about the folly of love." He rose from his seat and approached Hecate. "You could only truly understand what I want to convey after I finish my painting."

Apollo reached out his hand to her. "Art is just that way."

Hecate took his hand in hers and smiled melancholily. "We, in the beginning, were in fool's love."

"Yes." Apollo said subtly. "Nevertheless, that didn't end in tragedy."

Hecate picked up on his tone. "What happened today?"

Apollo said. "I will fill in with you later." He dragged her out of the solar. "Come on, now."

"Let's set off to the Omnipotence City—the Heaven of the Heavens."