The Moon

The Moon Palace hung in the sky, casting a soft silver radiance. It was adorned with alabaster and moonstone, intricately etched with lunar motifs and symbols. Celestial tapestries and sculptures depict mesmerising lunar scenes. Within its grand halls, ethereal chambers, and observatory, the moon's influence permeated every inch, pulsating with astral energy.

In its private chambers, Selene reclined on her bed, her body cradled against Apollo's warm chest. They lie there, unclothed and undraped, as naked as the day they were born. Their eyes are shut, seemingly immersed in a tranquil slumber. Yet Apollo's golden orbs flickered open, gazing downward at the Titaness, with whom he had shared a passionate embrace. Their connection had been so intense, so consuming, that time itself had slipped through their fingers.

Apollo caressed her hair as his gaze flicked back to the window. The stars still shimmered in the night sky, but they were not the same as the ones before. 'It's been a whole day,' he concluded.

The God of Light, in his incorporeal form of pure light, rose gracefully from the bed, careful not to disturb Selene. With a gentle touch, he moved her aside, creating space for himself to cleanse his body in a luminous bath of light. While fashioning new garments, a mischievous smile played upon his lips as his gaze fell upon Selene, who seemed to be still asleep. "You can openly savour the sight, Selene," he suddenly remarked, his voice laced with amusement.

And so Selene yielded, her silver eyes opening to drink in his perfect glory as he adorned himself. "Phoebus, you are truly flawless," she whispered in wonder, her gaze tracing the chiselled contours of his body.

Apollo leaned closer to Selene, their lips meeting in a tender kiss before he gently lifted her chin, a smile gracing his lips. "And you, Selene, you too."

Selene mirrored his smile, the pale silver of her eyes colliding with his blazing golden gaze, brimming with emotion. "I thought you might just leave," she confessed with a touch of vulnerability.

"Ah, I am no heartless brute, Selene." Apollo feigned a hurt expression, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Surely, you already know that."

Selene laughed, playfully acknowledging his words, as she pulled him in for another kiss, this time filled with fervour and desire. Their bodies entwined, hands traversing one another's body, but Apollo reluctantly disentangled himself before the smouldering embers of their passion could ignite into an all-consuming inferno.

"It has already been a day, Selene," Apollo said, gazing at her frustrated and yearning countenance. "We both have duties to fulfil." He gestured towards the night sky, where only the shimmering stars remained.

Selene nodded reluctantly, and together they rose from the bed. Apollo, with a crown of laurel on his head, gracefully finished dressing himself before he helped Selene with the ropes of her ethereal gown in front of the mirror. Once ready, they stood together in silence, their reflections locked in a tender embrace.

"Do you desire this?" Selene suddenly asked, her voice a low, faint whisper in the darkness. Her silver eyes fixed solely on their united reflection.

Apollo turned her to face him. "It is the world that desires the Moon," he replied, gently kissing her before his form fragmented into particles of light, cascading through the nocturnal lands like shooting stars.

Selene released a sigh, bereft of astonishment but infused with a blend of vexation, disillusionment, and yearning. However, she composed herself, trailing the radiant specks as they led her to the balcony, her stare locked onto the veiled firmament. Her eyes, resplendent in their silver hue, started to gleam with an ethereal brilliance, and in an instant, she vanished.

Without delay, the Moon materialised, resplendent and grand, slicing through the cloak of Nyx that enshrouded the heavens, instigating the five oceans to surge in a symphony of discordant harmony.

————

The morning sun streamed through the blood-red curtains hanging over the windows, casting a warm, golden glow on the grand palace of Hearth. The servant natural spirits glided effortlessly through the halls and rooms, going about their daily tasks. Yet even amidst their hectic lives, they couldn't help but surrender to the allure of the freshest gossip flowing throughout Olympus, eagerly trading tantalising tales and scandalous whispers.

And today, the hot gossip on everyone's lips was none other than the renowned Apollo. Rumour had it that the God of Light had abruptly departed right after the feast, only to reappear the following night. When he finally returned, his mother ensnared him in a lengthy conversation. Some claimed they caught a glimpse of the typically poised Apollo emerging from his mother's chambers with an uncharacteristic air of awkwardness and embarrassment.

The spirits huddled together, their whispers filled with speculation, pondering what had happened to Apollo while diligently carrying out their tasks within the grand halls of Hearth. But their murmurs gradually faded into silence as the very god they were discussing stepped out of his temporary chambers, striding purposefully towards the guest hall of the palace.

They all lowered their heads as Apollo walked by, their nervousness evident in their demeanour. But he simply marched ahead, unaffected, brushing off their harmless yet deferential whispers without a care—even when they gossiped, they dare not overstep their boundaries; he didn't know whether to find this laudable or pitiable—but his thoughts were rather consumed by the events of the previous night.

Apollo clenched his jaw, remembering the face his sister made as his mother dragged him away last night. 'It was all because of her, spewing lies about me. I mean, I might be going out on a limb here, but she definitely played a role.'

The talk he had with his mom caught him completely off guard. She made him sit down and lay it all out, expressing her worry about him messing around. And let him tell you, she didn't mince words. She had this serious expression on her face as she dropped the bomb. She just wanted to make sure he fully grasped the potential consequences and dangers. He understood her concerns, considering his father and all, but damn, it was one awkward conversation. All he wanted was to escape from that room. Oh Gaea, still thinking about it makes—

Apollo sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady his racing mind, and hastened his steps towards the kitchen. The upcoming day loomed like a tornado, and he knew he had to squeeze in a meal somewhere to keep himself going. Plus, maybe food would offer some temporary respite from his chaotic thoughts. Pushing open the kitchen door, he was met with Aunt Hestia's gaze as she spun around. Her voice carried a touch of affection as she called out his name: "Apollo, going for the usual?"

"Yes, aunt," Apollo muttered, sauntering over to her. "But make it nine more, you know, for the Muses."

Hestia nodded, her gaze fixed on him. "They're almost here," she replied, flicking her hand with a swift motion and channelling her powers to expedite his requests.

"They are?" Apollo's eyebrows shot up. "Well, can you please hurry it up then? I don't want to keep them waiting on our very first project."

"Already working on it," Hestia assured him.

Apollo marvelled at his aunt's swift execution of his requests as she effortlessly packed everything into a small container that miraculously managed to hold it all. With a neat handoff, she presented them to him. "Here you go."

"Thank you." Apollo nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "You're amazing."

"You flatter me, Apollo," Hestia replied, returning his smile.

Without wasting any more time, Apollo turned towards the kitchen door. However, just as he was about to leave, Hestia suddenly spoke up with concern. "About yesterday..."

"Aunt, it's—" Apollo quickly turned back to face her, somewhat thankful that they were alone.

"No, no," Hestia said, shaking her head. "I'm not talking about what went down with your mother. It's, uh... well, everything fine with you, Apollo?"

"Yes," Apollo replied with a smile. "Why do you ask, aunt?"

Hestia locked her gaze on him, her eyes unwavering. "I just had this feeling, you know?" she uttered. "But it's a relief to know that everything's fine, Apollo. Just remember, I'm here if you need someone to talk to."

Apollo acknowledged her with a nod before leaving the kitchen, his smile fading away. As he made his way to the guest hall, memories of his warm and intimate moments with Selene flooded his mind. 'I really didn't expect she would have such an impact on me in the end.' He mused, ploughing through them. 'But it is what it is. My path is just beginning….'

Standing in front of the guest room door, Apollo took a moment to compose himself before opening it and stepping inside. The Muses had already arrived, just a step ahead of him.

"Ready, everyone?" Apollo inquired, striding towards them and setting down the food container on the table, brimming with empty parchments. The Muses eagerly chimed in, their genuine enthusiasm finally lifting his spirits and clearing his heart into serenity.

"Very well," Apollo declared with a smile, reaching for the parchments and inks on the table and opening them all up. "Let us commence. Together, we shall craft a magnificent monument, one that will consecrate the sacred wellspring of Delphi, capable of withstanding the tests of time and forever immortalising our fables."