Young Writers Society

"I'm in a myth?" Icarus managed to get out, eyes wide. This entire thing was overwhelming, but that realization was especially so. If he was in a myth, that meant time must have passed. He didn't know how long it took for a story to become a myth, but if he was just a myth now, then his dad would be...

He felt like he was going to be sick.

He couldn't bring himself to look at the tiny rectangle that Wren was holding out. He didn't know what she was trying to show them on there, but he was too horrified by the realization that he might not ever see his dad again to really care.

"I am Poseidon," Poseidon repeated, voice still an angry growl. He didn't look away from the rectangle. "I don't know how you have miniature statues of me in that tiny box, but they're wrong."

He took a step back. Icarus foolishly believed he was going to stop arguing with Wren. But then Poseidon took a deep breath and held his hand out, and the air felt hot with magic of a strength Icarus had never really seen before. The waves grew into a water wall behind him, and only behind him. A trident made of just water formed in his outstretched hand and stopped with its prongs right in front of Wren's face.

(content warning: language)

Wren stopped in her tracks, her phone falling from her outstretched hand to the soft sand. The sharp prongs of a trident were inches from her face, a wall of water in the distance. The weapon, to her disbelief, was made of the same water that towered behind Poseidon. Holy shit-

Wren took a small step back, shoving her shock to the side. The air grew even warmer, her hands balled into fists in front of her. They glowed with the brightness of a small star, light seeping from her skin into the hot, humid air.

"Don't do this," she commanded, bracing herself to fight. "I'm just as confused as you are. Starting a fight isn't going to get you back to wherever you came from. Hurting me is only going to leave you two alone to figure this out by yourselves." It wasn't a strong argument, but she hoped that the threat of being left alone in an unfamiliar world would be enough to get the young man to lower his defenses.

Icarus frantically glanced between Poseidon and Wren. He still felt sick to his stomach, but he was pushing that feeling aside now that a fight seemed like it was about to begin. Poseidon had made a weapon out of water, and Wren was doing...something with her hands. They were so bright when Icarus only briefly looked at them.

"I don't want to start a fight, either," Icarus hurriedly got out. What he actually wanted to say was that he didn't even know Poseidon and hadn't asked to be on his side of whatever was going on, but that didn't sound like a good thing to say near the irritated god.

Poseidon lowered his trident.

"I wasn't trying to start a fight," he said. "I just wanted to prove a point."