When she sees him, she knows. He looks human, but there’s something about the way the light bends around him and how she feels like she can’t breathe that tells her that he is no mere mortal.
And she runs.
She has heard the stories of what gods do to their mortal toys. She doesn’t want to be the plaything of a god. Sometimes, she is little more than one in Troy, but at least that is her home.
But even though she runs as far and as fast as she can, she can’t outrun a god. He is there the entire time; she can feel the heat on her back, the laughter floating through the air, and she knows that he is merely playing with her.
When her legs give out, he is right there, laying a burning hand over her eyes. She screams as the heat sears through her, leaving nothing untouched.
And then he is gone, and she can see. A thousand possible futures reveal themselves, but in all of them, she sees her city burning.
And she speaks, warnings of what the future holds and desperate pleas for anyone to listen to her falling off her tongue.
But no one does.
Sometimes, he’ll visit her again. She never sees him, but she’ll feel the press of heat against her back or hear his taunting laughter, all cruel reminders that if she just hadn’t run…
And she runs.
She has heard the stories of what gods do to their mortal toys. She doesn’t want to be the plaything of a god. Sometimes, she is little more than one in Troy, but at least that is her home.
But even though she runs as far and as fast as she can, she can’t outrun a god. He is there the entire time; she can feel the heat on her back, the laughter floating through the air, and she knows that he is merely playing with her.
When her legs give out, he is right there, laying a burning hand over her eyes. She screams as the heat sears through her, leaving nothing untouched.
And then he is gone, and she can see. A thousand possible futures reveal themselves, but in all of them, she sees her city burning.
And she speaks, warnings of what the future holds and desperate pleas for anyone to listen to her falling off her tongue.
But no one does.
Sometimes, he’ll visit her again. She never sees him, but she’ll feel the press of heat against her back or hear his taunting laughter, all cruel reminders that if she just hadn’t run…
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