Young Writers Society

Chapter 27: Bloodline

I could get used to this, Josephine thought to herself while sipping her hot moonstone tea on the extended deck of the guest house. She wanted to decorate it to her liking—add some portraits of people she looked up to: Aphrodite, Harmonia, and Pan; but she could save that for later. She wanted to do nothing more but paint the cream bricks an inviting green, or replace the wallpaper with one of her liking. Aphrodite’s taste was light, flattering colors—whereas Josephine preferred earthy shades like beige and azure.

She got news early that morning that Persephone was on her second stage of recovery. The healers, thank gods, were able to successfully remove all roots and growths from her brain, only leaving a few in Persephone’s lungs. According to Penelope, Persephone had an estimated recovery of 20 days remaining. Josephine contemplated going to visit her friend, but wasn’t at all prepared to tell her that they’d got nowhere with figuring out who caused the attack. She also wanted to speak to her father first; hearing his side of the story before making any rash decision seemed like the right thing to do.

Harmonia’s voice sounded from the side of the guest house, closer to the garden, “Find anything useful?” Her sister’s fiery red hair gleamed a shade of orange in the sun as she gracefully walked up the steps of the deck. Like always, the goddess of harmony looked stunning and smelled of heaven.

Josephine flashed a smile and took a sip from her mug, “Apparently father has something to do with it, but I’d like to hear it from him first before I make any assumptions.”

“Assumptions or facts?” Harmonia’s voice was warm and soothing mixed with hints of wildfire and harp.

Harmonia and Josephine were both biologically similar—being the only two offspring of Aphrodite and Ares. Josephine may have been the original forbidden child, but Harmonia came not long after. The gods refused to stop seeing each other—therefore birthing another daughter in which Ares was, once again, ashamed of.

“Both,” Josephine responded as Harmonia sat beside her, crossing one leg over the other. Her long, white dress drooped elegantly over her bottom-half, creating the illusion that she was curvier than she really was.

Josephine inherited the curves, cheekbones, and lips; Harmonia inherited the voice and grace. Harmonia was still beautiful in her own ways: the goddesses’ skin was as clear and soft as cotton; her eyes were bright blue with hints of purple as if they were crafted with sapphire. To Josephine, Harmonia was the most stunning goddess of them all, even more so than their mother.

Her sister studied her, pursing her lips lightly, “Father will do anything for power. He’s the god of war, for crying out loud. I wouldn’t be surprised if—”

“He wouldn’t.” Josephine interrupted, shaking her head. She didn’t notice her voice slightly cracked until Harmonia looked at her with a sympathetic gaze.

“Josephine… not everything is butterflies and rainbows. I’ve heard of the things they’ve done, the crimes they’ve committed, the treason is endless. Not just father, but every single god that reigns over Olympus. These things happen.”

“These things don’t just happen, sister,” Josephine’s voice grew agitated; a slight edge in her tone, “A beam of light the height of Forbidden Slopes doesn’t just happen. I’ve never seen anything like it before, Harmonia. I wish you were there; I wish…it was different, okay? It wasn’t normal. It doesn’t just happen.”

“Okay, okay,” Harmonia’s face turned worried, “Can you explain it to me? What’d you see?”

“It was a beam of light, so big that it could blind any mortal in an instant. It created a hole so large in the ground that… that…” Josephine’s eyes started to water, so she sucked it up and wiped her waterline with her sleeve, “people were dying. People were getting sucked in, and there was nothing we could do. Nothing could stop it. It didn’t seem real.”

“And…Apollo didn’t own up to it, I’m guessing?”

“Exactly.”

“He could be lying,” Harmonia shrugged and turned to overlook the garden, “Gods lie all the time.”

“I was thinking that, too,” Josephine sighed, playing with the mug’s handle.

“Speak to father, get more information, and then report back to me. Bring your little boy-toy too,” a look of realization swept over Harmonia’s face, causing her to stand abruptly, “I think I might know someone that could be of help.”

“He’s not my…” Josephine cringed, “boy-toy. But, I will bring him.

Harmonia winked, and Josephine watched with intrigue as her sister disappeared through the palace doors.

~

Josephine hadn’t been in her fathers quarters since before the Trials. Unlike Aphrodite’s home, Ares’ palace was the true definition of masculine, with numerous weaponry sheds located at different locations around the premises; armed, bulky members of Zeus’ army played poker and dice in the dining hall. It was a nostalgic feeling, being surrounded by men and only men, but she’d grown used to it all these years.

She somehow snuck through the massive courtyard and straight to Ares’ personal quarters before trying the handle, finding that the heavy metal lock clicked undone once she applied some pressure. The sounds of voices echoed through the large, sunless den. The stone statues glared at her as she walked through the doorway.

Her father’s voice faded into nothing when he saw Josephine.

“Leave us,” Are’s voice was strong as he gestured for his right-hand men to exit. All three of them nodded in unison—disappearing past Josephine and into the corridor. Josephine almost forgot how her father looked, those dangerous black eyes and intimidating body structure. The god stood at almost eight feet tall; he towered over the other gods with ease. Josephine approached him slowly, preparing herself for anything.

“Hello, father.”

Ares looked at her with intrigue, “Why are you here, Josephine? I know you didn’t come just to say hello.”

Straight to it, then.

Ares sat down on the black leather sofa, and Josephine sat across from him in the spare cushioned lounge chair, “As you probably know, I was injured along with my friend at the Grande Feast.”

Ares shifted in his seat. Josephine wanted to study him; she was around her father enough that she was able to tell when he was lying. As she suspected, he refrained from looking her in the eye, “I was… aware, yes.”

“It killed and hurt many people, father. I visited Apollo and he suggested that I confront you.”

Josephine had never been this open and confrontational with anybody, let alone her father. She had him sweating—he obviously knew of her rare gift—he knew, if he angered Josephine enough, she could burn him to a crisp. It felt strange for Josephine to be in control of a conversation with her father.

“Apollo is a fucking idiot,” Ares groaned, a concerned look on his aging face, “You will listen to Apollo’s words before coming to me?”

“I never suspected you would have anything to do with an attack on Olympus,” Josephine corrected him, “That’s why I never came to you. I assumed it was Apollo, but he quickly proved otherwise by throwing you under the bus. You still haven’t denied it, either.”

Ares hesitated, a slight crack in his voice, but he still held his ground like a war god would, “I wouldn’t do that, and if you believe I would, you’re not my child.”

Josephine didn’t react.

That wasn’t the first time she’d heard him not claim her as kin—she grew up around him throwing fits, lecturing her that Women like you don’t belong in my bloodline.

She decided to slap a smile on her face instead, ignoring the slight tingly burn in her arteries, “I stopped being your child the minute the Third Trial ended. You are my father by blood, but not by heart. We will never be family.”

Ares’ eyes raged, and he tossed the coffee table over to the side before rushing to Josephine’s space, “Watch who you’re talking to, girl.”

“Or what?” Josephine’s smile grew wider as the god grabbed her by the neck. It didn’t last long, as Josephine allowed her anger to fuel her gift; skin burning hot to the touch. Josephine could feel something, though, as his skin came in contact with hers. A gift of light and sun. Apollo’s gift. Ares’ screamed in agony before letting go.

“What is this? You think you can defeat your old man?” Ares smiled, a sinister grin forming across his now red face.

“No, actually, I will be leaving now. I got what I came here for,” Josephine stood and strode towards the door, glancing back behind her shoulder before she left her father’s presence. The God didn’t move, as if stuck in time, “And by the way, old man. Don’t ever touch me again, or I’ll kill you. Tell Apollo that I will see him shortly.”

Josephine felt powerful as she left her father’s quarters; the smile on her face never faded.