RISE FROM RIVER STYX.

                            did little red even have a reason for approaching the other as hurriedly as she had ? no — &. yet ruby found herself rather DRAWN to pyrrha, for lack of a better word. even though the much - taller woman was calling ruby small &. gained amusement by her observation, ruby didn’t feel all that offended. surely she didn’t mean that as an insult, did she ?  ‘  i — well, i’ve always been small. are you a goddess ?  ‘  little red wondered while curiosity brightened her lustrous eyes. her mother once taught her all about the old gods of the parthenon, &. ruby firmly believed such divine beings to walk among them.  

               ‘   HEAVENS, NO. many would never try and battle me if i were a divine. my skin is made of glass and i can bleed as you do, child.   ’     the warrior moved a hand down to gently caress the top of their head, giving them a good ol’ hair ruffle. IMAGINE HER, THE GENTLE WARRIOR A DIVINE. MANY ALREADY PRAISE HER, so perhaps she is a step closer to god-hood. this child brought about a wonder in her heart.

     his expression is almost poignant. STILLNESS reaches for his voice & held it to the depths of his chest. a SUNBEAM of grins had composed itself to barely a glimmer, a turn of the corners of his lips, before settling for a line.     ‘ what i have learned, ‘     the god speaks, singed edges of contempt burning at the borders of his voice,     ‘ is that mere men mock & dismiss gods, until the dire moment when they need them. ‘     WORN LUNGS, how they fill, seams stretching & contorting to allow an extraneous breath ( WHY DOES HE BREATHE, GUIDE FOR THE DEAD, MESSENGER OF HIGHER? TO FEEL HUMAN? )

                   ‘    men crave power, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. zeus is a trial thing, bedding women and goddesses alike. despicable. i once prayed to a god but gods are as we are. vulgar and grotesque.     ’          men and women all craved the came thing. power, absolute power, wealth, vasness of lands. she did not find herself stuck within that loop. her mother made her powerful but she did not abuse such a gift. she did not need a divines gifts to be as great as she is today. WHY MUST I WAKE WHEN OTHERS SUFFER? MY LOVE, MY LIFE. COME BACK TO ME. this gift has brought her nothig but woe and sadness. she was as trivial as the rest but she was not as weak as the rest. she did not crave power.

  “ I come to observe, nothing more. “

 Once more, she hovers; this time, she is but a few inches from the ground, legs crossed as feet dangle. Her arm rests in her lap, elbow using a thigh to prop itself up as she rests her chin in her palm. On her lips, a smirk, eyes glimmering with intrigue. 

“ You are quite the talk of the town among your nation…and I hear the great ones often go young, so I thought it best to capitalize on time. “

                   ‘    is heaven so boring that angels must personally observe mortals for entertainment?    ’         the divines were always so strange to the warrior, temples and temples raised to praise those who would cling to old gods and new gods. she felt with her greek lords and greek gods, she would suffice with their praise alone. she would closely survey the area and make notice of the others light that radiated from their core, an essence she found to be some what.. confusing. DO DIVINES TRIFLE AS WE DO? DO THEY STEP O GLASS AND TRIP ON TOES? HOW TROUBLESOME. the warrior raised a hand and asked a simple question.

                   ‘    what a peculiar style you have, child.    ’

                 ‘     my my. you are quite small and it is hilarious to me, child. you can to me so quickly, was there something you wanted?       ’       the blessed warrior examined the youngling before her, child of crimson and fire she could see it now. it was beautiful. 

                  ‘     o’ blessed being, have you come so soon? i have not prayed recently.. what business does a divine want with me?     ’     she removed herself from her knees and sheathed her weapons, the soldier of fortune gazing up at the celestial.

     & he circles her quietly. staccato were the footsteps placed on adamant dirt ( DETRITUS is what’s in her wake ), & he stops before her, lips lifting on pallid features, cultrated edges as sharp as his stare. a mere body CHRYSELEPHANTINE, he saw. the nemerous enclosure that surrounded them had trapped simple sounds ; animal calls, faraway voices.     ‘ oh, dear, how i hate to say it. ‘      apathetic. a languid sway followed the roll of his eyes, turning to the flora surrounding he & she of the gods.     ‘ but i told you so. ‘

@bytheswcrd​

       bronze sword of fury and wrath, child of the world knew of such unpleasant surprises. where the god found himself, there would always be trouble to be had. SHE KNEW OF ONLY WAR and what was upon her tongue, mere fire and ashes with the desire to dirty entities of old. a hand was so vicious. she gripped her weapon and bellowed forth a roar so mighty that it shook the world.