The Ball [5]

"It's time to meet the others." Hera's smile is reassuring, her eyes warm and understanding, but I still feel my stomach clench with anxiety, churning like the waves of a gray sea. "Don't fret, Hecate. It'll be fine."

"Hera," I say softly after a moment, and I hate the vulnerability in my own voice. "The memory you showed me...Ares, that was his name, right? Were we...." I pause, trying to gather my thoughts, which are frantically scattered in my head, hard to comprehend in the moment. "Together?"

Hera freezes, her hand still on the bronze door knob, half way through opening the door to lead us to the ballroom. She regards me carefully for a moment, her expression concerned, before letting out a small sigh. "It is very complicated, Hecate. You see...you are a maiden Goddess. You are not fated to fall in love, or be with a man...however, I think it would be foolish to say you didn't feel something for him. You tried to hide your affection, burying it under your cool exterior, but...you and I were good friends. I could tell you felt something. It's up for you to determine what that was. I can't read your heart."

"Oh." The emotions I feel are even more muddled than before, meshing into something I can't even understand. A maiden Goddess? So I was never meant to find love. Perhaps that is some of the emptiness I feel. I push it away, simply nodding. "Okay. I'm ready now."

Hera's eyes are soft and a bit sad, like she understands how I feel, but she returns my nod. "Alright. Let's do this, then."

She pushes the door open, and I'm greeted by the sight of a fuller ballroom than we'd left it. Every single individual inside the room is unbelievably gorgeous, but almost like a magnet, my eyes become stuck on a familiar face, icy blue eyes piercing through me, colder than any December wind. Ares. He is devastatingly handsome, just like I recall from the restaurant, and his features are unreadable as he stares back at me.

My attention is stolen by a single cry of a sweet, feminine voice. "Hecate!"

A girl rushes forward from across the ballroom, her eyes wide and expressive, a lovely shade of olive green, shimmering like the surface of a pond on a sunny day. Her hair is long and a dark brown, almost black, curled, and a black crown sits atop her head, elaborately decorated with shining silver diamonds. Her dress is a dark, deep blue, off-the-shoulder and sleek, clinging to her frame tightly. I frown at her slightly, wishing I knew her name, wishing I could respond to her clear excitement.

She smiles brightly, flashing a set of pearly white teeth. "Don't worry, I know about your memory loss. No worries that you don't remember me. I'm Persephone, and you and I were very good friends."

Persephone. I wish I had studied Greek mythology more frequently now, as I search my brain for answers. After a moment, it comes to me. "The Goddess of Spring. Queen of the Underworld."

"That's right!" She beams, offering me a nod. "It's been a while since I've seen you. I'm glad you're back and well."

I don't know how to respond, so I remain silent, giving her a nod.

"Hecate." Ares' voice feels like being dipped in icy cold water, shocking and refreshing and a million other things I know it shouldn't feel like. While I don't know our history, it seems my heart hasn't forgotten.

I turn slowly to face the God, meeting his gaze with some difficulty. "Where's your mortal, then?" He says after a moment, his voice thick with condescension, a tone so arrogant I wish I could slap him. I don't, though.

Instead, I smile sweetly. "He's back home. Thanks for your concern, though."

His gaze flashes with an unreadable emotion before he laughs softly. "Oh, but of course. Mortals are not welcome in Olympus."

"Hecate." A new voice joins the conversation, cutting off my sharp response. "Welcome back."

The newcomer is a tall man of about six feet, with shiny golden hair to his shoulders, tan skin and bright, sky blue eyes. He is handsome, almost too much so. "Ah, your memories. I'd forgotten. I'm Apollo."

"Let's not crowd her all at once." Another voice interjects calmly, voice measured and smooth. "She's probably rather overwhelmed. I'm Athena."

She's tall, with long legs and wavy blonde hair that reaches her waist. Her eyes are a stunning ocean blue, her skin a deep tan, and she offers me a small, miniscule smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Goddess of Wisdom." She adds after a moment, when my expression doesn't change.

I give her a slight nod of acknowledgement. "Hi." I say after a moment, unsure of exactly how to respond.

Apollo grins suddenly, his teeth white enough I fear that might blind me, and suddenly claps his hands together, a sharp sound that startles me slightly. Almost immediately, soft piano music begins to play and as I search for the source, I stare in amazement at the piano across the room, playing all on its own. The sound is beautiful, slow and lyrical, filling the entire room. Apollo's smile continues to grow, clearly pleased by my clear surprise. "I am the God of Music, not just the Sun-and many other things."

"Show off." Yet another voice joins the conversation, and I turn to see a girl standing with her arms crossed, an halfway amused smirk on her face.

Her hair is dark, skillfully pulled into two tight French braids, and her eyes are a silvery-green color I've never seen before, hauntingly beautiful. Her skin is deeply tanned, like she spends a good amount of time in the sun, and she's short, only about 4'11, although she still looks like a fierce warrior. I can tell she has seen horrific things from the hardness in her expression, even when she doesn't look angry. "I am Artemis." She adds after a moment of silent observing. "Goddess of the Moon, the Hunt, and more."

"If we're reintroducing ourselves, I suppose I should join in." A gruff voice says, the voice of an approaching man.

His shoulders are broad and chiseled, his dark blue t-shirt clinging tightly to him, his hair a deep black, matching his equally dark, scruffy beard. His eyes are a clear ocean blue, glittering with mischief, a necklace of seashells strung around his neck. "I am Poseidan." He says in a voice that screams of power, promising violence at any challenge. "And this is my wife, Amphrite."

A woman steps up beside him, her hair a light brownish-blonde colored, pinned up neatly in a tight bun. Her eyes, a seafoam green color, look curious as she studies me, wearing robes of crimson red. "Hello, Hecate." She says with a thin smile, glancing at her husband.

"Hecate, I've missed you, old friend." Another woman says with a broad smile, giving me a quick hug that catches me off guard.

When she pulls back, I examine her for a moment, unable to recognize her. She's pale, her skin covered in freckles, her hair strawberry blonde and pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her eyes are a light hazel, her baby pink dress covered in white, lacy frills. "It's Demeter." She adds after an awkward pause, flashing me another toothy grin.

"Ah." I say softly, nodding, though I do not recognize the name.

"Let's dance." Hera says abruptly, her smile a bit forced, the lines harsher than I'd seen earlier. "There will be plenty of time to catch up with Hecate."

Plenty of time. Eternity, I realize, as I flash smiles at the unfamiliar faces filling the room, faces that I should recognize. There's something so...haunting, about forever existing. Though perhaps many would be thrilled at the thought of immortality, it doesn't excite me. In fact, it feels more lonely than anything I can recall feeling. "May I have the first dance?" I'm brought out of my forlorn thoughts by the smiling face of Apollo.

I hesitate. I don't care much for dancing, but Apollo's beaming face is surprisingly hard to turn down. And, I think reluctantly, he is handsome. Though, it seems all the Gods are. "Sure." I agree after a moment passes.

Apollo's smile widens, and he nods, gently taking my hand. His eyes are a stunning shade of cerulean. While I had noticed them earlier, they are prettier than I previously realized. His eyes lock with mine, and though they lack the magnetic pull of Ares, there is something almost mildly comforting about them. "I used to hate these balls." Apollo says conversationally, as we slowly spin about the dance floor. "I thought they were a bit...mundane. But, as time went on, and ball after ball passed, I saw how they bring joy, if temporary, to all the Gods here."

I tilt my head curiously, surprised. For whatever reason, I hadn't thought Apollo would have a desire for any sort of intellectual or philosophical conversation. Yet, here he is. "Look around." He prompts, his smile vanishing, his eyes knowing. "See the peace and harmony in this room? It rarely exists, outside of this ball."

I follow his gaze. Across the room, Hades is cradling Persephone in his arms, a scene so intimate, I can't bear to observe it for more than a couple of fleeting moments. Hermes is spinning Hera across the dance floor, broad smiles on both of their faces. Artemis stands laughing in one corner, conversing animatedly with Athena. All the Gods look happy...except for one, I notice.

I hitch in a breath as my gaze meets the eyes of the brooding War God. His eyes are colder than an Arctic wind, and though he holds the Goddess of Love in his arms, he barely seems to notice her. His eyes flit from me to Apollo, his expression unreadable, other than the obvious tightening of his jaw. I force myself to pull my gaze away, focusing with difficulty on Apollo, who's smile has turned amused. "Interesting dynamic there, you two." He says in a voice that holds the smallest, almost undetectable amount of bitterness. "In all the myths, it is Aphrodite and Ares who are in love, unable to stay away from each other...and yet...that has never been the case."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice a bit breathier than I would like to admit.

Apollo shakes his head, spinning me gently. "Ares has loved you from the moment he laid eyes on you, Hecate. And I am in the belief that it was the same for you. Neither of you will ever admit it, of course. You are both far too stubborn for that. Aphrodite has never been anything but a distraction. She may be the Goddess of Love, but she knows she will never have his."

Apollo's words make my head spin, disbelief crowding my thoughts, harder to trudge through than a foggy swamp. I try desperately to get a grasp on my feelings, but I can feel them slipping through my fingertips. "Please, excuse me." I manage to force out, releasing his hand.

I quicken my pace as I head across the ballroom floor, towards the door, where I know I can find escape from all the prying eyes and lost memories. Outside of the ballroom, I find the quiet I'm craving. I breathe slowly, inching my way forward, unsure of where exactly I'm going. The building is so large it's disorienting. I walk for what seems like hours, but I know it is only mere minutes, hardly able to pay attention to the fascinating architecture of the place. Finally, I stop, finding myself on a balcony, made of white stone, overlooking a stunning garden, full of greenery and beautiful flowers. It's surreal, a scene straight out of a film.

Though it's beautiful, I can't shake the feeling that I don't belong. Mount Olympus is not my home. Apollo's words echo throughout my thoughts, unable to be suppressed. As my eyes mist with tears, I hear the balcony door open quietly behind me. I don't turn, aware of who it is without needing so much as a single backward glance.

"Ares." I say after a moment, clearing my throat.

"Hecate." He replies, his voice quiet, laced with something akin to regret.

"Why did you follow me?" I ask, after a few moments of silence have passed.

"I...I don't know." He admits after a moment, his voice more vulnerable than I have heard it.

I turn, smiling in a way that is anything but happy. I don't need a mirror to know the expression on my face is of a girl who is broken, and doesn't quite know why. "I see."

His eyes are shuttered, desolate, his lips pressed together in a firm, tight line. "Your absence has kept me awake at night." He says after a moment, and I can hear the truth in his voice. "I have been constantly wondering where you went, and whether it was purposeful."

"I have no more answers than you do, perhaps even less." I say after a moment, like my heart isn't beating furiously in my chest at his words.

He says nothing more, and neither do I, but the silence speaks louder than any words possibly could.