Δρυάδες

-

“Are we…?” Paris wasn’t sure what the question was, and he instead looked towards a human who was out on a hike, passing by them a few yards away. He curled his hand into Aster’s, focusing on them. They began screaming, falling to their knees and attempting to pull out their hair before Paris broke his hold over them, clearing his throat, “That.”

“At odds?” Aster asked as he followed Paris’ line of sight towards a pair of innocent hikes, the display of power was not one that the dryad could say he was surprised about. Manticores were creatures of fear, they thrived off of it, but to see the man he love exercise this skill was- it wasn’t something he wanted for him. It made the fact that Paris had spent so long in Tartarus too real. “This power... Does it upset you?”

Oh. Eurydice does sit up and she does feel a little guilty for perhaps making him feel strongly enough to stop. She feels just a little bit like a child being scolded, but she doesn’t apologize. To give anyone part of their tree is a big deal, to desecrate their home for any reason. It’s part of them, and it strikes her as an incredibly romantic gesture. “When can I meet him?” Perking up, her smile is small, almost a little shy. Gael is one thing, but this is someone else who is something else. And he is important to the two of them and therefore important to her, just not in a romantic capacity. She’s got her hands full with two…She’s got her own matters of the heart to deal with.

-

“Soon.” Aster said with a smile as he came to a stop outside of the small makeshift home that Eurydice had found for them. It was not one of the big, lavish altars to consumption as the mortals had. It was small, held together by the very forest itself. It felt fitting. “You’ll like him,” he offered with a smile as he stretched out his back and prepared to lumber the couch the rest of the way inside. “you did good in finding this place Eury,” his sister were all gone. Dead and spirited away to wherever dryads went when they crossed over. But she was as they were to him, family. “and I would be lost without you.”

-

Paris laughed, holding onto Aster’s hand as he looked at him, “We don’t have to resort to violence, you know. I’m supposed to be keeping on the down low. Plus, I’ve – I saw Helen. I lost control, and people around me started….screaming. I could feel their fear.” He trusted Aster, and if Aster trusted his friend, then Paris would too. “Fine. Fine, let’s try it.” 

-

“You and Helen are you-?” Aster was under the impression that he and she were close, that was what the woman had alluded to at any rate. “I met her also. Officially, anyways. She used to visit my tree after I went to sleep.” Not unlike Paris, she was not as other mortals that Aster had known. She was divinely touched now, but even before there was a thoughtfulness there that others lacked. “What happened when you lost control?”

-

“Not in the slightest,” the shifter states as emerald hues fall on the dryad, a more gentle tone rooting in as he continued, “Actually— it was kinda refreshing to see.” If the stories that his father had told him were true about Fenrir, his soul deserved a break after all these years and hoped that the rift was finding peace. That his revival only allows him to flourish. “The most shocking thing was seeing him living. Everyone has always been so certain of his death,” but now with so many other creatures and rifts littering the bayside, nothing seemed impossible anymore.

-

In the dryad’s mind the inflection that he was idly thinking about himself had gone unnoticed, of course they were only talking about Fenrir and instead Aster opted to boast about the original shifter. “Few live up to the legends of their name, he and his siblings are exceptions to this.” They were not the rule, that was perhaps reserved for some of these rifts that were walking around the city. “Everything dies, but in our world death is not always so permanent.”

-

“An oneiroi?” He echoed, furrowing his eyebrows. They were supposed to be legends, but it didn’t surprise him that one was present. After all, they’d worked against him at Troy, hadn’t they? Paris hesitated, “I don’t know if I’m comfortable to let them into my head. What if they see something they’ll hate me for?”

-

“Who could ever hate you?” Aster asked, the idea of someone disliking Paris was ridiculous. “Besides, if they do. They die easily enough.” As most immortal creatures did, forever wasn’t such a permanent state of being, for some anyways. “It was their idea though, if you are not comfortable then I will just stay awake with you. And be near in case you drift off.” Though Aster’s tree was cozy, it had room only for one. This is why the bed held such appeal.

+

“I am sorry that I could not do more for you.” Elene had her magic, that connected her to the earth, but there was little she could do to actually protect the dryads when Gaia’s magic had faded. To make a scene of their defense would have only drawn attention, an unwanted eye of the greedy men of this world. But a genuine smile grows against the rift’s lips at Aster’s words, because it is all she’s ever wanted of him. To be accepted amongst them, all of them, in a way that she had never truly been in her human life by anyone. Aster is of importance to Paris and Gael, and so he is important to Elene as well. “I would like that very much,” she says, nodding her head gently. “Whatever you need, please know I will do anything I can for you and the others.”

-

“You did enough.” Aster did not expect much of her or any mortal- divinely touched or no. But she surprised him, something that did not happen often. So much of this world had changed, his friends were long dead, his sisters, and all his brothers save for one. The children he’d sired were bones beneath the earth, long residents of Hades kingdom. The dryad did not know how he fit in with the changing tide but there was a comfort, however small, in the knowledge that he was not entirely alone. Aster had love and newfound friends, while it did not eclipse his loss, or rage, it was a start. “Kind words, I will do what I can not to hold you to them.” Aster offered in return, though he could never be certain. 

He is truly trying her best and even though she thinks he would do better if she were not atop the piece of furniture, but he was so determined to get it home. So Eurydice stayed put, rolled over onto her back to look up at the afternoon sky with a soft huff of exasperation. Manticores and Tartarus, some things did not change despite the world seeming so much…Bigger now, far bigger than themselves. “It is the principle of the thing, Aster.” She’s seen the films, she’s watched the television in bars, houses are supposed to be stylish and inviting. She wants one, she wants one for herself and her fellow dryads. “Sounds like you care for this Paris quite a bit.”

-

“And I will not be kept from him.” Aster said firmly, he set the task of the couch aside for the moment as he looked more seriously at the woman who was laid across it. “Not by you, or anyone. For any reason.” There was finality there as he returned to the task of dragging the couch through the forest to their secluded home. Decor or no, if it was truly their home then it was just as much his as her, Paris would be there through whatever state of furnishment that was necessary. “When he fought- at Troy... I sent him off with arrows- carved from my own tree.” Aster said, grunting once more as he struggled. The offering was explanation enough for how the dryad felt for the man turned incubus turned manticore. 

-

Paris had heard some of the dryads names, this one seemed like the brains of the operations so he would have to thank her at some point. “Scrawny?” he echoed, trying not to laugh now. “Tell me more about him.” The manticore paused, even as he leaned against the dryad. “All the time,” he admitted, though he tried to push it off as something that didn’t bother him. “But I avoid sleep. Guess you don’t need to, just makes nights really boring.”

-

“He’s mortal, I don’t know if there’s anything else particularly interesting about him. He’s still young.” What was a couple decades compared to his lifespan? “I met someone, an oneiroi. They offered to help you, if you’d like. Their partner is also a manticore, they told me that she suffers from nightmares too.” Aster wished he could fight every demon that crossed Paris’ path, but there were some things, too many things, that could not be solved with a spear. 

-

Paris grinned a little, moving closer to Aster so he could rest his hands on the others chest, “Really? I think you’re shy. Worried they won’t like that little nose wrinkle you do when you think too hard.” He hummed, giving a nod after a second. “Okay. I’ll stay with you. As long as I don’t – you know, put you in danger. Or anything like that.”

-

“What’s not to like about that?” Aster questioned, just about incapable of picking up on syntax and likely doomed to forever take things far to literally. “Good, you will have to meet Eurydice. She has been asking about you.” The dryad pointed out, “I believe she is being courted by a mortal, he’s very scrawny, and his holdings are few. But he seems nice.” His arms folded around Paris, holding the manticore close. “Do you... Do you have nightmares? About what happened.”

.

“No, but they’re fascinating in the time that they’re here.” Phobetos enjoyed the idea of impermanence, how it made things more pressing— there was an urgency to being someone that would fade, or could be stolen from the world so easily. To be present one day and gone the next was decided by something as simple as the sharp touch of a blade, a fear that they simply had never held. “Typical man,” the spirit said with a wry smile. “I wish to know of mothering.” They were uninterested in the siring of children, they understood what was required for something so banal, but they tapped at their lower lip. “You raised a god,” the oneiroi noted, fascinated. “And the god in turn was responsible for your ruination. Nature versus nurture?” Phobetos meant nothing by the ribbing, and instead they tapped manicured nails against the glass of the crystal ball, clearing the fog that had collected in it. “Another from those days,” they noted, “A beautiful man, if I remember correctly.” Memories swirled like the fog, and they looked up. “Perhaps he knows my partner.” That was enough for Phobetos to be concerned enough to take care over him. “If he suffers from sleeplessness, have him come here, to see me.”

-

They could agree to disagree, mortals were tiresome and a waste of the air that they breathed. “Everything dies,” Aster shrugged, a torch to his tree would end him just as surely as an iron blade through the heart would quickly and quietly snuff out the life of the oneiroi in front of him. “save for the divine.” Gods, Titans, primordial entities, personifications that would live on forever. Even if they were vanquished they could never truly be gone, his father was the very heavens, and though he was weakened he existed - somewhere. “Something like that,” Aster sighed as he scratched at the back of his head, truthfully he and Paris hadn’t spoken of it. He wasn’t good at things like that. “I will speak to him, but I should take my leave. I have been too long in this place.”

-

Paris grinned a little, moving closer to Aster so he could rest his hands on the others chest, “Really? I think you’re shy. Worried they won’t like that little nose wrinkle you do when you think too hard.” He hummed, giving a nod after a second. “Okay. I’ll stay with you. As long as I don’t – you know, put you in danger. Or anything like that.”

-

Glad that this could be put to rest and Aster didn’t have to worry about being uprooted, a smile spread at the corner of the dryad’s lips. “I am not shy. I simply know all the people I need to know already, I have you and Gael and many very powerful friends.” He thought about the oneiroi, Helen, Casper - what else did the world have to offer. “The only thing I fear is losing you again, I will keep you safe no matter the danger.”

“I want to move my tree back.” The fact that it had been moved at all is still a great source of ire to Aella. She had been her happiest, in the city of the Amazons. Even if they were all gone in this age, faded away to time while she was locked away, it is still where the dryad would choose to remain if given the option. It was her home, the only one she’s ever known, and now she has been displaced. Only the other dryads could understand her woe, the unfortunate delimma in which Aella finds herself in. Violet eyes glance up at Aster, from where she sits on the forest floor. “But this world has changed so much, I do not know how to find it again.” ( @asterxalseides​ )

-

The mythical land where his friend had hailed from was not an island that Aster had ever seen firsthand, like so many things it was a story that he had been told second hand. “Perhaps it has been obscured.” Aster said simply, he did not like what had happened to Aella, but she was proof that it was entirely possible for their trees to be uprooted. He only hoped that Aella and Paris never met. “What was it like when you were moved?” Aster asked, curious. “Did it hurt?”

Eurydice sits up a bit more, elbows on the worn cushions of the couch, her attention piqued. “Another manticore?” She had met the one, though she had not heard from him in quite some time. After the display at the bar, she did not think he was in any danger, but many dangerous creatures lurked in Corinth, ones even more powerful than a manticore. “That makes two around that we know for sure.” It’s more an out loud observation than a continuation of the conversation, and then she’s looking right to Aster, eyes wide. “Will he be to the house? It is not ready yet, I forbid such a thing.” Perhaps she’s joking to hide her worry, she doesn’t know what to think about the manticores still, but she did trust Gael and Aster.

-

“I will- not be... without him.” Aster corrected, grunting as he continued to struggle through the street with their couch. Nobody forbid him from anything, least of all sex with either of his partners. “Besides,” the dryad paused for a moment and panted as he struggled to catch his breath before he continued dredging onwards. “he is- of Tartarus.... our lack of decor is unlikely to... offend him.” Sweat fell from his brow and struck the earth as they reached the boundary of the city, the forest was the halfway point. Nearly there. “But yes,” Aster grunted before he put another foot in front of another. “He is... a manticore.”

.

“I’ve grown fond of some of them,” Phobetos admitted. “I enjoy learning how it is that they view the world, how it shapes them.” They gestured, “Emotions, they’re fascinating. Pain, suffering— those are easy, but love, in all forms—“ The spirit paused. “I have watched a mother choke on the smoke of a building to rescue a child from within it. I’ve always wondered what that’s like,” they mused, “To be a mother to something.” It was an aimless musing, though they supposed that the dryad cared little for it and the oneiroi settled back against the countertop. “A manticore,” they replied with a proud expression. “She is stronger than before, as is he now.” Phobetos studied Aster’s look, the way that his brows curved in. “She has nightmares of it, and I take them away.” This dryad, despite how they had come to them as abrasive as one could; had earned a small measure of favour simply by being aligned with the same species as Leyha was now. “If you wish it, I can do the same for him. It is a small gift, but it will help.”

-

“They die quickly enough, hardly enough time to get overly attached.” How long did humans live anyways, two-hundred years? Three. That was nothing. A short blink of existence and then they were gone. Some were remembered, fondly or otherwise, but Aster did not get attached so easily. “I sired children many times over, it wasn’t so interesting.” The dryad shrugged, not by any choice of his own. “My brothers and sisters and I were charged with raising the boy Zeus when he was newly born, after Rhea had deceived my brother Cronus.” It would be the Titanomachy that ultimately sealed his fate. “She came to us then as a mother, desperate to save her children and we did as we were charged. Raised him on ambrosia and nectar, trained him to fight. And in the end his uprising doomed my kind.” Aster didn’t have a father’s mercy, he regretted not smothering the boy God in his crib when he had the chance. “His name is Paris,” Aster offered, “the same man who fought at Troy.” 

-

It was difficult to hide the smile that tugged at the shifters lips when asked, sometimes forgetting that some words took new meanings and not all could place them. He wasn’t new to some species being older than he could imagine, them all having seen a different side of life than Casper, but most still had slowly grown with the ever evolving world. Others, like Aster, didn’t have that luxury, “Retiree, basically means someone who is no longer working. Doesn’t seem to have much going on,” his eyes looked onto the other in hopes that he wouldn’t have to explain much further, trying to refrain from calling his ancestor a senior citizen.

-

“Oh.” Aster said simply, the meaning of this word sank into his skin as the dryad considered all that he had been in the Golden Age of Greece. The life he had now was a shadow of what it had once been, most of his siblings were dead, those he knew were all but erased from existence. Chased from this world and replaced with the juvenile Olympians and their progeny. “This... Is this a shameful thing?” 

Orpheus thought that Aster finally understood him, it finally clicking that Orpheus and Eurydice were just friends. But unfortunately, that wasn’t the case as it lead Aster to another wrong conclusion. “What? Aster no–” This could’ve been a touching moment, Aster sharing a bit about himself– which was nice– but not when the other still didn’t get it. “I’m not gay, I mean, I do like men. But I also like women.” Anyone really. “I’m just not dating Eurydice, nor am I sleeping with her,” he explained. “And please stop bringing up children, I’m not ready to have any, or to even think about having any.” 

-

“What is it about her that displeases you?” Aster asked, confused as to what Orpheus’ issue with Eurydice could be. “She is well proportioned and visually appealing: inquisitive, intelligent. You could be so fortunate as to mate with someone like her.”  The dryad was beginning to get a bit miffed with the human, he didn’t understand why Orpheus wasn’t interested in Eurydice when she was clearly leagues beyond him. Aster scratched his chin, this was quite the mystery. 

-

Paris smiled, fighting back a laugh as he looked at the usually confident dryad. “Wait, you’re worried the other trees won’t like you? You used to be worried they wouldn’t like your brother, not you. Are you really that shy?” He moved closer to the dryad, running his fingers through Aster’s hair, “Take the city. Full on war. I like the sound of that. My ship is still here – down by the docks. I’ll fight by sea.”

“I am not shy but they might have bad judgement.” Aster denied, shyness could never be him. “They’ve lived in ignorance all their lives, they’ve never met someone like me before - they would not know how to react!” And if they didn’t understand him, how was he supposed to explain? His cheeks were still a bit red but he would deny that too if he needed to. “I thought you would,” Aster smiled as large hands found Paris’s waist, “we have a bed here now too. Gael likes to sleep in it with me, you should too. I see no reason why you would sleep anywhere else.” Since Paris couldn’t climb into his tree this would have to be the next best thing.