A Contradiction

Freedom is an undeniable reality, despite the apparent preordination depicted in the book of Destiny. However, the true nature of freedom is a captivating contradiction—a profound paradox. Regrettably, many, including my own brother, grapple with comprehending and accepting the concept of Destiny. Curiously enough, my brother's stubborn refusal to embrace this truth is, in essence, a profoundly human response.

Ah, the irony of it all.

- Michael Demiurgos.

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With a trembling breath, Apollo finally tore his gaze away from the statues, shifting his attention to a figure standing beside him. This person mirrored the statue of the hooded man, as though they had been there all along, seamlessly blending into the tableau.

"Greetings," Phoebus murmured, his head bowing in a display of deference as he struggled to muster a semblance of respect for the hooded man who personified the very concept he felt so conflicted with. "Destiny of the Endless."

Destiny acknowledged Apollo with a slight nod, holding a book that was chained to him. "Ignore them," he said, glancing at the statues of his siblings. "Come, walk with me for a while, Apollo," he beckoned, gesturing towards the labyrinthine paths that sprawled before them like a garden of countless possibilities. "You may choose the path."

Apollo surveyed the paths, his eyes gravitating towards the one illuminated by a radiant glow. In his current state, he yearned for brightness more than ever. Without a word, they embarked on the chosen path, walking side by side in a reckoning silence. The setting sun cast his elongated shadow behind them, adding a touch of melancholy to the air. As for Destiny, he left no shadow nor footprints.

After a while, the God of Light couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. He turned to Destiny and broke the silence, his voice filled with a mix of wonder and uncertainty. "Did you know that I would choose this path?"

Destiny met his gaze with a simple acknowledgment. "Yes."

Apollo's brow furrowed as he grappled with the implications. "Then what is the purpose of choice?" he asked, searching for answers within the inscrutable depths of Destiny's gaze.

As they continued along the bright path, navigating through the maze of intersecting forks, Destiny offered his insight. "The purpose of choice, Apollo," he began, his voice carrying a hint of wisdom of eons, "does not solely lie in the outcome. It resides in the very act of forging your own path amidst the vast expanse of possibilities, in the journey itself."

Apollo listened intently, his gaze fixed on Destiny. "But..." he hesitated, his voice tinged with lingering doubt, "you possess knowledge of everything—past, present, and future. You know all that has happened, all that will happen, and all that could happen."

Destiny's expression remained unchanged, his eyes reflecting a profound understanding of infinity. "Indeed."

Apollo halted in his tracks, his gaze fixed upon Destiny as a wave of confrontation surged through him. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, charged with a raw and unfiltered intensity. "If every choice we make is already foreseen and recorded," he began, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and curiosity, "was it truly ours to make? Does the concept of freedom even hold any validity?!"

"You're staring right at him, Apollo," Destiny asserted, his voice carrying an air of certainty.

Apollo's body stiffened, caught off guard by the cryptic proclamation. "What do you mean?" he managed to utter, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and unease.

"We, the Endless, represent the very essence of the cosmos," Destiny explained, drawing nearer to Apollo until their eyes met—Apollo's golden gaze locking with Destiny's sightless orbs. "We are the threads that hold the fabric of existence together, more integral than most comprehend. Our powers extend beyond the concepts we embody, encompassing their polar opposites as well."

"That means you, Destiny," Apollo whispered, his voice laced with haunting realization. "You also embody—"

"Freedom," Destiny interjected, completing his thought with reckoning.

Apollo's footsteps faltered, his thoughts drowning in an unsettling silence that hung heavily in the air. As they pressed forward, walking along the luminous path that wound through the boundless garden, the twilight sun cast a lost glow on them.

"Such a contradiction," the God of Light finally uttered, his words containing the weight of inner turmoil. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, as if releasing a fragment of the emotions that threatened to consume him.

"The cosmos itself was born out of contradictions," Destiny affirmed, his voice carrying a depth of understanding that transcended mortal comprehension. With the book clutched firmly in his right hand, he gazed into the distance, his eyes seemingly fixed on realms unseen. "Destiny and Freedom; it's a delicate balance, like the interplay of Yin and Yang, if you will."

Apollo's features twisted in a wry expression, a mix of frustration and bitterness. He shook his head slowly, as if trying to unravel the complexities of their conversation. "I think I'm starting to grasp it," he admitted, his voice laced with a touch of irony. "Destiny is more than a predetermined force. It grants us a path, an identity, a way. But ultimately, it doesn't define you. It's the choices you make along the journey called life. Perhaps you are not the puppeteer, but…" he concluded, locking his gaze onto Destiny's inscrutable eyes.

"The Guide."

"Yet acceptance still eludes you," Destiny observed simply, his words hanging in the air with a quiet weight.

"You may be right," Apollo replied, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. "Despite my newfound understanding of destiny, I find myself grappling with accepting it for what it truly is. Perhaps my own nature is to blame for this..."

"The struggle to accept your fate, it's buried deep within the embers of humanity," Destiny spoke silently.

Apollo's response lacked any hint of surprise. "So, you were aware..." he uttered.

"Your past life as a human still grips your core, stronger than you think," Destiny murmured, his eyes fixed on the sun slowly sinking beyond the horizon. "Inside you, both humanity and divinity collide, and in the end, you must let go of one or find a delicate equilibrium, becoming..."

"A contradiction," Apollo interjected.

"Yes, a contradiction," Destiny affirmed with a nod. "Maybe then, you'll stumble upon some semblance of acceptance."

"I hope so," Apollo whispered, yet his eyes betrayed a different tale to Destiny.

"Huh, the human spirit," Destiny muttered under his breath as the last golden rays of the sun faded away, nearing the end of their radiant journey.

"But, Destiny of the Endless, there's something I must ask," Apollo breathed in, a moment brimming with a chaotic mixture of anticipation and trepidation as he glanced at the chains that bound the Book to Destiny's side. The weight of that ancient tome, filled with the stories of existence from the dawn of time to its bitter end, hung heavy in the air. It was a cosmic log, the very essence of all that was and would ever be.

Destiny cocked his head, the clinking of the chains echoing softly. It was a silent signal for Apollo to lay bare his query.

Apollo grappled with his own thoughts, his mind engulfed in a tempest of uncertainty. He braved the storm, summoning the courage to voice the question that gnawed at his core. It clawed its way out of his throat, laden with raw, relentless anticipation. "Was I always etched within the pages of your sacred book?"

Destiny halted abruptly, pivoting towards Apollo, his sightless eyes locking with his gaze. Clutching the book, Destiny's voice resonated with the weight of Eternity. "You were always there, written and recorded in my book."

A haunting stillness filled the air as the Book of Destiny, a vessel of countless stories, seemed to pulsate with the essence of every life ever lived. Apollo could almost glimpse his own among those infinite tales. "So, my existence was indeed predetermined…" he whispered heavily, a bitter smile blossoming on his lips, but he still foolishly forged on, refusing to back down despite the abyss in front of him. "Then, do I at least succeed in the end?"

Destiny's response was devoid of any emotion. His voice held no trace of sympathy or comfort, as if the terrifying implications behind his words were nothing more than ordinary information. "I don't know," he declared flatly, the words hanging in the air like a thundering refrain.

Apollo froze in his place, the words of Destiny of the Endless striking his very core like a cataclysmic bolt of Zeus. It shattered the darkness that was threatening to consume his light. "You don't know," he muttered, his voice barely audible, his once-dimmed golden eyes now ablaze with a blinding brilliance. "You don't know," he repeated, his bitter smile transforming into one infused with newfound hope, akin to the scorching rays of the sun.

Destiny's demeanor remained unperturbed, an aura of detachment surrounding him. "Well, then, let's move on to the very reason I've brought you here," he declared, steering their conversation onto a different path.

Apollo's response was swift and eager, nodding in immediate agreement. "Yes," he chimed in. "Let's."

With a deliberate gesture, Destiny opened his weathered book of souls and made his proclamation. "I bestow upon you the divinities of Prophecy, Foresight, and Divination."

In an instant, Apollo felt an electric current surge through his veins, a surge that seemed to originate from the very core of this garden, this otherworldly realm. It was as if Destiny himself reached out and touched Apollo's soul, forging an otherworldly connection in that fleeting moment. Words failed to capture the intensity of what he experienced; it went far beyond mere profundity. It was a glimpse into the very fabric of Destiny, the infinity within it—he knew it all.

The veil of omniscience suddenly vanished, leaving him gasping for air. Before he could gather his wits, a surge of unfamiliar strength coursed through his veins. His mysterious senses heightened and expanded, as if he now possessed the ability to directly understand the intricate tapestry of Destiny that intertwined with the very essence of reality.

Through these heightened senses, the first thing he grasped was the realm he currently stood in. How could one describe it? It was the very birthplace and essence of both Destiny and Freedom, encompassing everything they stood for and represented. However, their true significance and potency emanated from the Destiny of Endless, who stood before him—this boundless realm was but a part of Destiny.

Apollo's senses tingled with awe as he gazed upon Destiny with his newfound senses. 'The Endless are something else, aren't they?' he muttered to himself, overwhelmed by their sheer magnificence and power. After a moment, he shifted his attention to the newfound powers bestowed upon him— prophecy, foresight, and divination. These were all concepts tied to Destiny, and when combined, it was no exaggeration to say he now possessed the gift of clairvoyance.

The eldest of the Endless closed his book, his eyes fixed on Apollo. "With these divinities, you will have the power to guide others, to shine a light on their path when they're lost in the darkness of uncertainty," he said. "But remember, prophecies aren't just reckoning the future, they're shaping it."

Apollo nodded, his understanding deepening as he contemplated the weight of prophecies and the immense responsibility that came with his newfound powers. But along with that responsibility, he couldn't deny the allure of the power it granted him— the power to mold the future according to his will. A surge of excitement ignited within him, only to be quickly dampened by a somber realization. He knew all too well that anything entangled with Destiny and Fate was bound to be riddled with complexities and complications. And true to his expectations, Destiny wasted no time in proving him right.

Destiny continued inscrutably, "Your divinities aren't without consequences. The more you directly interfere with threads of fate, the more intricate and delicate the tapestry becomes. Every action you take will ripple through the lives of others, creating unforeseen consequences."

Apollo furrowed his brows, his confusion evident. "But isn't my very existence doing just that? By existing, I'm already altering the tapestry of fate," he questioned. Though he knew his presence in this world was predetermined, the contradictory words of Destiny served as a reminder that not everything had been scripted and finalized, especially when it came to his role in it.

Destiny took a step forward, his blind eyes fixed on the path ahead, and Apollo trailed beside him. They continued along the illuminated trail, stretching into the vast expanse as the night claimed the dominion of Destiny, adorned with countless shimmering specks of celestial brilliance. In any other circumstance, Apollo would have yearned to halt their journey and simply revel in the extraordinary nocturnal spectacle, unlike anything he had witnessed on Earth.

"There's a distinction between directness and indirectness," Destiny uttered at last, his voice carrying a note of contemplation.

Apollo paused, his gaze shifting to the dark horizon as he contemplated the weight of the words spoken. "Does this have anything to do with the Fates?" he inquired, his mind flooding with the memories of the cosmic and eldritch weavers. "If I were to meddle and tamper excessively with fate, would they seek retribution against me?"

"You don't have a thread of Fate, Apollo," Destiny elaborated, noting his troubles and uncertainties. "But you are an integral part of my Book, so the changes you bring about just by existing and the choices you make will be overlooked by the Fates. However, if you choose to directly intervene with your powers, then you'll have to face the consequences like anyone else."

"I understand," Apollo nodded somberly, his realization sinking in, fully grasping his place within the realm of Destiny. And the fact that he didn't have a thread of fate brought him immense relief since he was outside the mechanisms of the Fates.

Yet, lingering doubts persisted, leaving him questioning the purpose of the Fates in the presence of Destiny. What was their connection, if any? And did Destiny just reveal that he was an 'integral' part of his book? Did mysterious instincts have anything to do with Destiny? However, he withheld these doubts for another day as they were nearing the end of their introspective journey.

As they walked further, all the paths began to converge, leading them to a place where all possibilities converged— the Crossroads of Fate. This was a place where destinies intertwined, where pivotal moments hung in the balance, and where choices would shape the course of history.

Destiny came to a halt at the crossroads, his gaze fixed ahead. Retrieving a small book from the depths of his robes, he held it out to Apollo. "This here is my sigil," he said."If you ever need to reach me, use it."

Apollo accepted Destiny's sigil, a mixture of expectation and surprise washing over him. He had anticipated something of this sort, but the significance of the gesture still managed to catch him off guard. He didn't question why Destiny had chosen him or why he had been summoned to this realm, for he already held the answers within his grasp— Destiny, above all, was the guide after all.

"This is where our paths diverge, Apollo," Destiny said, his voice carrying a weight of finality.

Apollo took in Destiny's words, a mix of gratitude and purpose flooding his voice as he responded, "Our conversation has been truly enlightening. I doubt I'll ever forget this day for the rest of my life, or the blessings you have bestowed upon me. Thank you for everything, Destiny of Endless."

With those farewell words hanging in the air, Destiny turned away, selecting a smooth path at the crossroads, continuing his eternal journey without Apollo by his side.

Standing at the precipice, Apollo couldn't help but reflect on how Destiny had not granted him any divinities tied to Freedom. He didn't dwell on it, though; deep down, he knew it was for the best. If he were to achieve true Freedom, he intended to do it on his own terms.

A wry chuckle escaped his lips as he reined in his ambitious dreams, acknowledging that they would have to wait. There was still a long road ahead of him before he could seriously consider pursuing them.

'Now, let's see which path is mine,' the God of Light thought to himself, his bright gaze scanning the paths before him at the crossroads of Fate. And there it was, his path revealed, beckoning him forward. As he approached it, a sardonic smile crept across his face, for his path appeared pitch black, strewn with shattered stones, shards of glass, and broken branches.

But Apollo remained undeterred. Stepping onto his chosen path, he watched as the obstacles melted away with each determined stride he took, illuminating the way with radiant brilliance. And so, Apollo embarked on his return journey to Delphi, his path brightening with every step he took.