Chapter eighteen

Sybil gaped at the plate of shrimps and macaroni as Talia approached her. There were empty slots available all around but the dumb Fae wanted to be next to her. The term stick to the enemy you know was starting to make sense. What Sybil could not understand was why the girl was alive. A goddess’s word was law. Why wasn’t it the case at the time being? Why did Persephone spare her? Her knees thwacked down and almost immediately all the watching eyes vanished. Sybil coerced herself not to spare the girl a look. It would only anger her. The proximity was enough chaotic buildup. The sickness even worsened with Sybil knowing the girl might have to spend her eternal life so close to her. The first realm was still oblivious to her existence. It wasn’t that difficult to fit the puzzle together. Someone more powerful than Persephone was involved.

“Talia! Talia!” Someone on the other side of the table whispered loudly.

Sybil rolled her eyes and faced the speaker who was none other than Solomon. He happened to be one of the few overjoyed to see her alive.

“Solomon?”
Sybil studied Talia for a moment. The girl’s pale and reserved nature immediately disappeared. Now she couldn’t handle it anymore. She rose from her seat, gave a bow to the queen before exiting the room. Sybil was already a few feet from the door when the blasted thing whooshed open and almost hit her on the face. Lucky for her, She was quick enough to swerve out of its way.

“Are you blind?” Sybil scoffed at the culprit. It was rash but with all the conflicting thoughts that were tearing her apart slowly, The poor girl could not bear it. She took one look at the woman and recoiled. A messenger of the old god.

“I am Sybil but I am not myopic.” The woman retorted, patting Sybil by the shoulders all while staring at her intently. Almost like she could see through everything she was.

“I am sorry sage.” Sybil mustered, her legs beginning to fail her.

Still looking at Sybil, The old seer spoke, “I am not the one who needs that. You do and that poor girl who you almost murdered.”

Sybil turned white. The woman could read her. She bounced away from the woman’s touch and fled the room. The picture was engraved in her mind. It was guilt. She hated that she felt pity for that golden-eyed girl. Sybil stood there, pondering on the words of the seer. It was easy for everyone to say her brother’s death was not her fault but every passing day, self-care and love were never worth it. The dark thoughts always returned and ten times stronger. She was Storge’s rock and she had failed him. A spark escaped the tip of her fingers and like a firestarter, the spark spread over her hands engulfing it in bright orange flames. Sybil trembled at the sight. Her thoughts were being tainted yet again. It was impossible to fight it even when she had a choice. Finally, Sybil gave in to the darkness. She was not a monster. The demigod was.

***
Persephone threw her gaze at the half-god then back to her son. For some reason, Denys could not take his eyes off her. He even had that glow her late husband had in his eyes when he was passionate about something. With the many prophecies that seemed to be rooting themselves in reality. It made her worried. Was he smitten? The thought of what purged out her mind sickened Persephone. She tried shaking the thought off. She was probably just overthinking it.

“You should learn to let things be Persephone.” Came a voice.

Persephone craned her neck and frowned upon seeing the insufferable creature whispering to her ears.

“You say that like I am the only one meddling,” Persephone said. “What were you telling the girl?”

“To see the light. Hate will only ruin her.”

“Will she heed your word?”

“She has free will. The god she serves gives two pathways. The path she chooses will be her destiny. I call that lucky. Even you, A deity only have one path.”

The seer’s words struck panic in Persephone's heart. She clutched on to her necklace, feeling nervous.

“But I have free will. I would rather die than be Hades bride.” Persephone gritted between her teeth once she recovered.

“You have been trying to meddle with the prophecy. That much I know but the old god’s will cannot be revoked. You have brought death upon the realm. He wants me to let you know, Your time is ticking.”

It shattered Persephone. The seer’s words only made her panic and everyone in the room was completely oblivious to it. She examined the half-god who was at the moment having a moment with a were. She looked innocent, a weak misfit, and out of place. How could it be possible? However, Persephone could not ignore the game of the old god.

“If you know I am going to try to change this. Why are you telling me this?” Persephone inquired.

“Because he wants you to watch everything fall in place despite every string you pull. He wants to prove to you that you don’t have a choice in this. In the end, You will submit.”

If the old god wanted a game, Persephone was ready to give it to him. She had escaped her fate for millenniums and she was certain she could do it again. If the death of that half god was what it was going to take to bend fate then so be it. However, something still plagued Persephone’s mind. What bastard god made sure she existed?

“Does the old god will me to know who her father is?”

“No.” The seer retorted.

***
“You don’t know how happy I am to know that you are alive,” Solomon said, Their light-hearted conversation turning serious.
“You will be surprised to know who made sure I am alive.”

“Who?” Solomon asked, his eyes widening in suspense.

“Persephone’s son,” Talia replied just as the instruments began to play. Talia’s answer made Solomon’s jaw drop but he wasn’t just that. His eyes hovered over her like he was staring directly at a ghost.

“Your royal highness.” He managed, giving a bow.

Talia swallowed, sensing it was the prince. She turned behind her and came face to face with those beautiful eyes. She stared at them for the longest second before noticing it was unprofessional and rude.

“Your highness…” Talia mustered, her cheeks flushing beet red as she thought of a way to thank him.

He smiled. “May I have this dance?”

Talia was sure she was hearing things. She nodded nonetheless. Midst the wagging tongues and the watching eyes, She let him lead her to free space in the room where others happened to be dancing too. The slow music swirled through her body as she let the Prince sway her round and round.

“Thank you,” Talia whispered, finally finding the courage to say it.

“For what?” The prince asked as they continued to dance and spin, the pressure of his hands against her back tightening.

“Making sure your mother spared me. Thank you.” She clarified, looking up to see his soft flaxen eyes flash blue.

“That was not me Talia but I am glad you are alright.”

What!