#kleio

She bit back a whimper when she saw his other hand—he had a man in his grasp. He was squirming, clearly unhappy with his current position. To her surprise, he didn’t look particularly frightened. Annoyed was more like it.

“You have been taking us in circles for half a day,” the mortal snapped. “Admit it! We’re supposed to be heading north!”

The demigod narrowed his eyes imperiously. “I know where we’re going! The very blood that runs through my veins pulls me toward the temple. If you wouldn’t keep distracting me with your doubts, we’d be there by now.”

“If you’d don your mortal form, we could stop at a village to ask for directions.”

“Why would I need my mortal form to do that?”

The mortal scoffed. “I can’t let you terrorize another village in good conscience.”

“I do not terrorize villages, I gift them with my presence.”

While the two went back and forth, Kleio carefully tried to make her exit, eyes fixed on a thick copse of trees nearby.

“Why don’t we ask her?” the demigod said suddenly.

She froze, feeling quite ill.

“Who?” the mortal asked.

“Her. Behind the rocks.”

“What do you mean? There’s no one—”

“Now I’m a poor navigator and a liar? Oh, the offenses never cease with you.”

Before Kleio could react or so much as whisper a prayer for her survival, the hand that had been braced on the ground shot toward her. Fingers andpalm closed around her middle and yanked her from the ground. A shriek caught in her throat, and she flailed, but there was nothing she could do to stop her ascent. The ground shrank away, cementing her queasiness.

“Gods, Andreas!” the mortal said, his voice rising. “Y-you can’t just—”

“See? I told you there was someone.” The demigod brandished her triumphantly in the direction of his other occupied hand.

The mortal gaped at her, and then his eyes snapped back up to the demigod—Andreas. “Put her down at once!”

“Directions first.”

“Andreas—”

“She’s going to bolt if I put her down. Come on, I thought you were logical.”

“You,” the mortal sighed, “are a truly insufferable person.” Then he brought his gaze to Kleio and softened. “Sorry about him. He won’t hurt you, but if you happen to be hiding a weapon, feel free to use it on him. What’s your name?”

“K-Kleio,” she stammered, too petrified to struggle now that she was dangling high off the ground. “I-I’m a priestess!” As though that would protect her.

“I’m Dion. An artisan.” He jutted his chin upward. “And this Andreas. A plague upon my life and the source of all my suffering.”

She held her breath, certain that Andreas would slaughter Dion for the insult and she’d be left alone at his mercy. But the demigod merely grinned as though Dion meant it all as an endearment. A gasp flew from her lips as Andreas lifted her closer to his face, eyeing her with more interest.

“Kleio?” Hearing her name in his rumbling voice made her lean away. “Do you happen to be named after the Muse of history?”

She nodded shakily, hoping this would grant her some sort of favor in his eyes.

“Wonderful! I met her once, you know. She slapped me across the face when I asked if she was older than history itself.”

Gods, I’m going to die.

“Where are you heading?” Kleio blurted. Not Delphi. Please gods, not Delphi.

“We’re looking for Delphi,” Dion said. “Are you a priestess of Apollo’s temple?”

“I… I am.” Kleio deflated, realizing she wouldn’t be rid of them any time soon. “You’ve come to dispute a prophecy, haven’t you?”

“How did you…” Blinking, Dion cleared his throat. “Does this happen often?”

Much like the child of Calliope, you are also a bard. However, unlike Calliope’s demigod, your specialty is lyre playing. Your fingers are more deft than them, and once you’ve played a song, you are able to remember how it goes. 

With the muses, they tend to have a lot of overlap which can lead to confusion to which of the Muses specialize in; case in point where Clio and Calliope are often mistaken or placed for one or the other, so both you and the child of Calliope resemble each other the most and people will confuse you two for each other, whether as twins, cousins, or fellow half-siblings. 

Unlike Calliope who sings and tells the deeds of heroes, being the demigod of the Muse of History, is different from Epics. Epics are basically telling the tales about a person, you don’t just know something about someone, you also know about everything about what was going around that time of when that person was in. 

Not only does History come more easily to you, you are able to memorize past incidents and actions. Although you’re not sure if this is a factor in your memorization, with the help of music helps you along; whether remembering the music you listened to at that moment to recall back to, or memorization things based on musical notes. 

You have the power of Retro-cognition; where you have visions of the past. This is basically the opposite of foresight where you see into the past and basically acts as a helpful reminder of things people may have missed. However, you know the words “Those who forget History are doomed to repeat it?” yeah that’s basically what you’re role is. You remind those of the past so they don’t repeat the same mistake, and often with people’s hubris, end up foretelling the future as such. 

You’re the least compatible with Aphrodite or her children due to the Adonis incident where Aphrodite was furious with Clio, who had chided the love goddess for loving Adonis, to which Aphrodite caused her to fall in love with Pierus, son of Magnes, who later bore Hycainthus. 

Hey at least you’re distantly related to Hycainthus! (though you have no idea why there’s that one kid who keeps giving you sad smiles. Meg tells you that he is reminded by someone)

You also have the slight power to peer into someone’s or something’s history. Which may deter some people but in times it is very useful. You’re often to the medical ward at camp to see how a camper got their injury and how it exactly happened. Otherwise, you are also called as a neutral party where you help settle arguments of who did what in a neutral way, before soothing everyone’s anger with your playing. 

Out of the Muses, you’re the expert in Lyre playing; your fingers easily plucking in the string backs and forth, with deft fingers; as you regale of times of what once was of times of good and bad.