Evripidis wondered what being the deity of undercooked pastries would be like. Surely, they were an excellent candidate for it. Most people hadn't accepted their pastries, except that one colorful deity. What was their name? Hm. Either the pastry-eater hadn't told Ev, or Ev had succeeded in forgetting. That second one would be a rare event! How delightful it'd be if they had managed to forget something today.
Ev hummed a little and kicked their feet as they lay on the carpet of their room. They hadn't bothered to move after falling in and faceplanting.
Eventually, time passed. Ev passed into dreamland as well. They remembered every detail when they woke up, though they tried hard to forget.
A letter shimmered between Ev's face and the floor. Ev squinted at it. Too close. Ev dropped their face and smushed the letter into the carpet. Eh, if it was important, something would happen.
A little voice read out the message into Ev's ear. Something about a rulebook (rules were boring), and a mentor assignment ceremony (mentors were also boring, as they just repeated what you already knew), and formal glamour. Ev giggled. How about informal glamour? Oh, wait! How about informal nonglamour? Forms of clamor...
In the end, Ev didn't change from their current outfit of a plain chiton and a lazy ponytail with hair matted to the side of their head where they'd dozed off on the carpet. They entered the big place with lots of people and leaned against the wall. Ev scanned the various faces, noting that the pastry eater was nowhere to be seen. Then they spaced out until their name was called.
Daedalus. Ev made a face. One of Athena's faves. That probably meant he would blabber on about intelligence and inventions and then yell at Ev when they pretended not to pay attention. Well, at least they'd enjoy the look on his face when he grew fed up with Ev.
- o -
Of course, Daedalus showed flickers of annoyance. He did better than Ev's previous tutors at hiding it, though. Even when Ev pretended to nap on a nearby bench, Daedalus only sighed once and rapped the bench with a metal rod. That was a new record! Ev's previous tutors had all sighed at least ten times in the first five minutes. Daedalus had only sighed once.
To celebrate that record, Ev actually paid attention. For two minutes, at least. Then they dozed off again and didn't wake up until Daedalus produced a rock out of nowhere and used it as a pivot and the metal rod as a lever to tilt the bench to a forty-five degree angle. Even then, Ev might have continued to nap, until Daedalus finally snapped.
"Child, our lives are at stake. I am not certain whether you were napping or simply not listening when they announced it, but if you fail or perish during the trials, I perish as well." His eyes flashed angrily. "Do you understand? I could die." He pushed the lever furiously, tilting the bench even farther.
"Hmm." Ev sat up warily, draping an arm across one of the armrests to keep from sliding. "You've escaped from places before. Surely you could manage it again. But use wood instead of wax this time."
Daedalus stood stiff, as if stricken. Abruptly, he released the lever and the bench thumped back to the ground. He stalked off wordlessly.
Ev hummed. Perhaps that had been too far. They forgot sometimes that people were more fragile than memories.
- o -
Was Ev becoming an overcooked pastry? They didn't particularly care. They opened bleary eyes, looked at the uninteresting landscape of sand dotted with uninteresting lumps of people, then went back to sleep.
Finally, their head felt like it was burning as it absorbed sunlight, and Ev realized they didn't actually particularly want to become a burnt mushroom, so they decided they ought to do something about the rope binding their hands. The rope was soon taken care of, and Ev heard someone speak.
"You know, you could have just asked me to untie you."
They blinked at the person, trying to place them. "You are..." Then their lavender eyes cleared up. "Ah, yes! The colorful one who ate my pastries!" And how funny, an offer to help. Well, they supposed that was indeed a nice thing to do.
The deity looked down at themself, and looked back to Ev. "Yes, that appears to be me. And you were, uh...."
"The deity of undercooked pastries. I mean, not yet. I'm debating between that and the deity of stupidity disguised as arrogance, if that's not taken already. Does being the deity of something give me the power to smite those who fall under that category?" They smiled.
"I think it does, and thank the god of the gods that I don't fall under your category."
Yes, that was probably a good thing. Ev might just smite people if given the power to do so. Not necessarily on purpose, but perhaps just while they were swatting a gnat and there happened to be someone in the way. "I see. If you say so." Ev looked around again.
It was an excellent place to try to forget. Perhaps the sun could simply boil the memories out of their brain. Ah, Ev could hope.
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