13 Monument

Like that, amdsit questions and answers, they arrived at the end of their path, ascending the stairs to the main palace of the gods. As expected, someone had to interpret their arrival. Emerging from a swirl of dark shadows, Hades materialised, his presence commanding and brooding. Hypnos and Eris shivered in his dark presence, tugging closer to Thanatos.

"Thanatos," the God of the Dead, fixed a piercing gaze on his assistant. "What brings you here?" he demanded, his voice carrying an air of sternness.

"My lord…" Thanatos appeared visibly troubled, but Apollo quickly stepped forward to cover him before Nemesis could. "I extended the invitation, Uncle."

Hades directed his unwavering focus towards Apollo. "It seems someone is already taking liberties with their position," he stated gravely.

"Uncle," Apollo revealed calmly. "Father agreed to this."

Hades gave Apollo a scrutinising look, his gaze filled with authority. "Very well," he said, turning his attention back to Thanatos. "Enjoy yourself, Thanatos, but I expect those reports on my desk tomorrow, without fail." With that, he vanished into swirling darkness, leaving an air of unyielding power in his wake.

Apollo brushed off their expressions of gratitude with a nonchalant wave. "Thank me later," he muttered. With that, they pressed forward, ascending the staircase until they finally reached the top. At the summit, Aphrodite and his true body awaited them after many intriguing tête-à-têtes and encounters with various individuals, most of which were warm and pleasant, unlike the encounter with Ares. Amidst the bustling crowd, Athena emerged, likely sent by Zeus himself to extend a welcoming gesture to the children of Night.

Apollo reclaimed their essence, a radiant stream of light seamlessly merging back into their physical form, and guided Aphrodite towards their arriving guests. Athena, too, followed them, casting a glance in their direction.

As the children of Night were welcomed cordially by the Goddess of Love and the Goddess of Wisdom, the stars in the Night sky seemed to shine brighter. And Apollo casually pondered whether the stars gleamed brightly in the vastness of outer space or only within the shroud of Night as they stepped into the banquet hall. His musings, however, were abruptly interrupted by his grandmother.

Phoebe rested her hand on his shoulder, drawing him away from the gathering. "May I have a moment with my grandson?" she asked.

"Certainly," Aphrodite replied, waving to him. "but do return to us soon, Apollo."

"Yes," Hypnos chimed in, "we will be waiting for you."

Athena silently nodded at Apollo, and the group made their way through the crowd, parting paths as they walked.

Apollo belatedly noticed that, despite their initial reactions to one another, Athena and Aphrodite actually collaborated quite well, although an undercurrent of tension still lingered between them.

Apollo turned his attention to Phoebe, the Titaness of Bright Intellect and Prophecy. "Yes?" he responded. "Grandmother?"

Honestly, it always felt somewhat strange to refer to Phoebe as his grandmother. Her youthful appearance could easily pass her off as his older sister. In contrast, Leto, her daughter and his mother, had a more motherly and elderly look.

"Are you really sure about your plans for Delphi?" Phoebe whispered as they stood in the shadows of the banquet hall, away from the bustling crowd.

"Yes," Apollo replied with a hint of seriousness. He was definitely going to get Delphi away from that filthy cave. He had even selected few prominent locations where he could relocate it. The only remaining problem was figuring out how to build an epic monument to house the sacred wellspring of Delphi.

"Then the Hekatonkheires—" Phoebe began.

"Do you think Father will agree...?" Apollo hesitated. The Hundred-Handed Ones were one of his solutions to the problem he had discussed with his grandmother. After all, who better to build a mythical monument than the builders of Mount Olympus? But they were fiercely loyal to Zeus and would only follow his commands.

"I saw him entering the private chamber," Phoebe revealed. "He seemed to be in a good mood. Go and ask him. He might agree. It's Delphi, after all."

Apollo let out a deep exhale, his agreement evident in the nod of his head. Stepping out from the shadows, he began to walk away, but Phoebe's voice interrupted him. "Phoebus," she called out. "About Aphrodite."

Apollo turned his head towards her. "You know how I am," he replied, a confident smile playing on his lips.

"I know, Phoebus, I know," Phoebe chided. "But it's your sister who's even more concerned. She's with Leto, complaining all about how you let yourself be ensnared by Aphrodite."

"I'll talk to them, grandmother." Apollo's smile turned wry.

"You better," Phoebe said with a smile. "Now go on and realise your plan."

And so Apollo did, weaving his way through the crowd of immortals that parted before him. After navigating through countless greetings and congratulations, he finally found his father in an open and opulent chamber connected to the banquet hall. Nonchalantly, he noticed Nemesis, Aphrodite, Athena, and others conversing with Hestia, while Demeter happily served food in a corner of the hall. However, his sister and mother were nowhere to be found.

'Maybe they're on one of the balconies,' Apollo considered as he pushed aside the curtain of the chamber. "Father."

The chamber was dim and dark. Zeus sat on a white throne, attended by numerous natural spirits. He sipped from a cup of nectar while watching something on a cloud-formed projection that depicted the mortal world—something Apollo could discern even without using his clairvoyant powers.

"Yes, son?" Zeus grunted without tearing his gaze away from the projection. His annoyance at Apollo's interruption was palpable.

Apollo entered the chamber. "I've come to discuss matters concerning Delphi, father," he revealed solemnly.

At the mention of Delphi, Zeus' languid expression immediately vanished, replaced by his usual regal and authoritative demeanour. He waved his hand, dismissing both the projection and the natural spirits.

With the chamber finally empty save for themselves, the King of Gods demanded, his electric gaze fixated on Apollo. "What's it?"

Apollo conjured his own projection, beams of light intertwining to form a swaying curtain that unveiled images of the inner depths of the cave of Delphi, its floors littered with centuries' worth of Python remains.

It was a truly repulsive sight, and his father's abhorrence increased as he saw more and more of the images.

"Enough!" Zeus thundered in disgust. "Put it off."

Apollo waved the projection away.

"Python was a true monster," Zeus snorted, his disdain oozing from his every word. He picked up the goblet of wine from his armrest, bringing it to his lips, but then scowled and set it aside. "I don't understand what my grandmother was thinking, entrusting Delphi's protection to that creature." His scowl softened as he shifted his attention back to Apollo. "Anyway, things turned out for the better, with you eventually claiming the Oracle of Delphi. I assume you want to move it from that filthy cave," he said.

"Yes, father," Apollo nodded.

"Have you decided on the location, my son?" Zeus demanded.

"I haven't, father," Apollo honestly revealed. "I do have some significant locations in mind, but the challenge lies in finding the right monument to house the sacred wellspring of Delphi."

"Go on," Zeus urged, his interest piqued.

"I request the Hekatonkheires as builders, father." Apollo calmly put forward his request. "No one is more suitable than them to construct something worthy of Delphi."

Zeus didn't bat an eye at his request, casually tapping the armrest of his grand throne as he considered. "Very well," he snapped his fingers, summoning a pristine white horn that appeared above them and then flew towards Apollo. "This will call upon them in my name."

Apollo caught the horn and gave a nod of gratitude to Zeus. "Thank you, father," he said sincerely.

Zeus let out a low hum. "Just remember, my son, I don't want the power of foresight spiralling out of your control," he suddenly cautioned, the unspoken message lingering in the air, a warning to keep it away from mortals as much as possible.

"I fully understand the weight of my responsibilities and duties as a God who oversees the realms of Fate," Apollo asserted, his words laced with determination.

"Then uphold your words," Zeus responded sternly. "for the Fates can be very unforgiving."

Apollo felt a surge of surprise deep within him upon hearing his father's words. Zeus may have had reservations about mortals gaining the power of foresight, but there was a genuine concern in his advice. "I will remember your counsel, father," he responded, nodding his head in understanding.

With a dismissive wave, Zeus brought back the cloudy projection of the mortal world. "You may leave now," he said, before adding, "and tell the nymphs outside to return."

Apollo followed his father's orders, instructing the nymphs to come back as he made his way through the shadows of the banquet hall. He kept his head low, searching for his mother and sister among the array of balconies connected to the hall. As he held the white horn within the light of his robe, something—no, someone—caught his attention.

In the midst of a concealed veil, an otherworldly woman stood alone on the balcony. Her ethereal form glowed softly in the pale moonlight. There was an air of detachment and loneliness about her, as if she didn't belong in the bustling banquet around her.

It was Hera, the Queen of Gods and Goddess of Marriage.

But above all, she was his dear stepmother.

Apollo knew he probably shouldn't intrude, but he couldn't resist. He stepped onto her balcony, effortlessly piercing through the veil of concealment that Hera had erected to shield herself from prying eyes. It was truly a marvel, for most gods wouldn't have been able to detect Hera at all under such a powerful enchantment. How had she managed to create something so extraordinary? Whatever the secret behind it, it certainly showcased her prowess as the Queen of Olympus.

As Hera felt her shattered veil, she turned towards Apollo. Although her regal face remained expressionless, Apollo could sense the raw irritation radiating from her. In response, he simply offered a languid smile. "I apologise for intruding, Lady Hera, but I couldn't just walk away after seeing your solitary figure."

Hera narrowed her eyes, scrutinising Apollo who met her gaze without faltering, his smile unwavering. Suddenly, she snapped her fingers, creating another veil of concealment around them as she returned his smile. "Then come and keep me company for a while, Apollo," she said, her voice carrying a challenging undertone.

Apollo remained unperturbed, striding towards his stepmother and joining her on the edge of the balcony. Before them, a vast expanse of clouds stretched out towards the horizon, peacefully shifting beneath the twinkling night sky. The scenery from Olympus had a way of captivating him.

It was truly divine.

"It's perfect, isn't it?" Hera remarked, casting a sidelong glance at him.

"Absolutely," Apollo responded, nodding. "The view from Olympus never fails to astound me."

Hera hummed, her irritation waning away in the embers of serenity.

They stood side by side, their silhouettes outlined against the backdrop of the celestial canvas. A serene silence settled between them, punctuated only by the distant echoes of laughter and music emanating from the revelry inside the hall.

"So, how's your mother?" Hera finally asked, shattering the serene silence and turning it into broken shards of heaviness. "I haven't seen her since... well, you know." She ended her sentence with a smile.

A smile.

Apollo struggled to maintain his composure, but it took a great deal of effort. "She's doing well and enjoying herself at our banquet," he retuned her smile. "Seeing both her children rise to the status of Olympians has really lifted her spirits."

"I'm glad to hear that." Hera's smile grew wider. "Your mother has always been quite something, you know? Always going out of her way to help others with their children, never expecting anything in return." Her expression suddenly shifted to one of feigned pity. "Although, I suppose it could be because she was too demure for her own good. She never quite mastered the art of saying 'no'. That was her flaw."

Apollo locked eyes with the Queen of the Gods, his gaze unwavering. "My mother also told me a lot about you."

"Did she now?" Hera arched an eyebrow, her tone laced with a touch of cynicism.

"Yes," Apollo nodded, his voice tinged with a haunting recollection. "She filled me in on your history, how you were hailed as the most breathtaking woman in the entire world—"

"Cosmos," Hera interjected.

"Right, Cosmos," Apollo replied, a grin tugging at his lips. "The immortals were captivated by your irresistible charm, longing to claim a piece of your heart. Yet you defied their advances, swearing to keep it solely for the one destined to be your life partner. You yearned for a love that would blossom into a beautiful and perfect family, with laughter and joy echoing through your eons. The perfect Dream you cherished and longed. But tell me, Lady Hera, how has that Dream unfolded?"

Hera's smile vanished, replaced by a rigidity that etched itself onto her face. "It didn't turn out quite like I had anticipated," she unexpectedly confessed, her words laced with a tinge of wistfulness. "But it wasn't all a disaster. I've ascended to the position of Queen of Olympus, reigning above both mortals and deities," she declared, her gaze locking onto Apollo with a fierce intensity, her brown eyes brightening with catastrophic power. "Above you, Apollo."

"Ah, come on now, dear stepmother." Apollo chuckled wryly, his laughter mirthless. "Remember, I'm the God of Truth, so let's not deceive ourselves, shall we?"

"Oh, Apollo, Apollo," Hera spat, her voice dripping with searing steel. She pivoted toward him until their faces were inches apart, burning brown meeting blazing golden. "You're so audacious. Just because you've managed to win my husband's favour, but do you honestly believe it means anything?—"

Maybe, but it is more than anything your children ever had. Apollo wanted to snap right back at her, but he curled his audacious and reckless tongue at the final moment. He was rash, he recognised, but seeing his dear stepmother all so riled up by his words was more than worth it.

"My husband, well, he's many things, but trustful? Not at all," Hera continued, a scowling smile forming on her lips. "Phoebus, you shine too brightly, too bright for your own good. It's your greatest quality,"—there it was again, a flash of envy beneath an inferno of fury—"but also your greatest flaw."

Apollo's smile flattered.

Hera turned away from him, her gaze fixed on the expansive stretch of clouds before them. "For now, my husband may choose to turn a blind eye to that," she said, the steel in her voice fading into an eerie, haunting tone. "But he will take notice, perhaps with time, even spanning centuries, but he will. And when that time comes, I wonder what he will do to you?" She side-glanced Apollo, her brown eyes now filled with morbid curiosity.

Apollo gathered himself, his words dripping with raw authenticity. "Time—it's a relentless force, showing no mercy. It wraps its cold, uncaring hands around everything. Who knows what may have changed by then? The World, Olympus, and even Ourselves. Nothing remains untouched in the face of Time. So, who can truly claim to know what lies ahead for us?"

Hera shot him a piercing gaze, her bright eyes snapping with intensity as a smile slowly blossomed on her lips. "We shall see,"

Apollo met her gaze, mirroring her smile with one of his own. "We shall,"