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Undying Empire: B4 — 4. A Locked Heart Opened
🕑 Added 2022-11-12 07:49:41 +0000 UTC1. Apate (The Greek Personification of Trickery!)
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Apate groaned as she felt a few of the critters blanketing her with their warmth; she’d pulled over a giant fluffy little creature she didn’t bother to learn the name of to act as her bed last night. It was bliss, well, as blissful as it could be under total bondage.
Yawning, she cracked open an eye, unsurprised that her group of God-Touched was already gone; Apate told them not to bother waking her, so this was the natural course of that action. It didn’t matter; she could track them by the beads of spiritual energy they radiated.
Still, Apate lay in the silent jungle; she’d cast a sleeping charm on everything that came into her radius, excluding the children, and for good reason.
Shifting a little on the fluffy underbelly of the creature she rested on, Apate repositioned her braided hair to stare at the golden rays beaming through the canopy before looking just beyond it at the clearing.
It was still unusual to be trapped in such a lower tier of Existence. Her focus drifted to the clearing just visible from her hidden position in the jungle; the long-bladed grass went up to her hips, yet the teens had cut and pressed down a section for their camp.
This was not supposed to be my life…
Puffing out a resentful sigh, she swallowed the sticky saliva caught in her throat and pulled herself up, adjusting her green top—clothing her mother had given her—it had been an eternity since she’d last seen Nyx’s enchanting eyes, yet she could never forget how ravishing the Celestial was.
A shiver ran down her frame as a different aura caressed her spirit; for those that knew what they were looking for, it was impossible to miss Tiamat’s presence engulfing everything. She was a Celestial, yet not of the same type as Nyx, which frightened her.
Apate hugged one of the small, fuzzy creatures that blanketed her with their wide tails; the only thing she was good at was trickery—it’s what she’d been designed for—but she’d long lost the flavor for it, no matter what she told or did around others.
I don’t want to be afraid anymore… I don’t want to keep my guard up… I don’t want to be used… Today, you’ll do something about it. Today, you’ll change! It doesn’t matter what Moros said… He was always stupid. Everyone’s stupid…
Breathing out her internal frustration again, Apate got out of her fluffy bed with a reluctant sigh, wrapped in illusions as she always kept herself. Her unique ability had the capability of subverting the very understanding of a Great Existence when at her peak, so doing something on a small scale like a universe was nothing, much less this tiny section of one.
She shifted to the side of her bed, her illusion examining a piece of smoked meat Alisa had no doubt left her as a peace offering; to any creatures that looked this way, her illusion would be all they saw, and she projected the same image to the area she felt the teens trekking—it wouldn’t be long before they finished descending the slopes to the gigantic river.
Apate had already dug her claws into their Cores; she could affect them whenever she wanted so long as they were within a hundred kilometers. The problem was that she didn’t want to touch Adoncia; she couldn’t keep her mind off of the titanic entity, which only served to resurface terrible memories from her past.
Distracting herself, she created an image of Allison, the annoying and endearing child that Valentina reminded her of. Both were strong-willed, and both wouldn’t give in to her.
Even if Elinor was the chains that bound her, these teens were the lead balls weighing her down, and she refused to show any happiness in being a slave; it would demean her mother.
Rising to her feet, Apate couldn’t help a small smile while seeing Allison failing over and over in her gymnastics routines; there were some things she did find endearing about her time trapped within the child’s soul, all the way up to her teen years. Valentina, Sal, Adoncia, and Alisa reminded her of a period in her life she wanted to forget; yet, that wasn’t how it worked for her—she couldn’t trick herself, and there lay the curse of her ability.
She dismissed the illusion, turned on her heels, and walked up the steep incline to the cliff rather than take the gradual ramp to the lowlands. Apate hated this physical sphere; she’d never had to exercise any semblance of a physical body, yet here she was, laboring away like Atlas.
Apate knew she could have charmed some random beast to carry her—it’s what she’d done for most of this trip—but she honestly didn’t want to be near the monstrous pit hidden within Adoncia’s Core after Tiamat reared her head; she wanted to meet with and run from the Celestial, which made for a troubling conundrum in her chest.
After all the debate, she discovered the place Elinor had used to camp with Thor and that detestable songstress; the woman’s ability to grate against her nerves rivaled the God of Thunder.
Apate sat on the edge of the sheer cliff, absently controlling the illusion she’d cast on the God-Touched; it was practically on autopilot at this point.
Elinor was different from many deities she’d met, and the same could be said about her little sister. Of course, it made sense; Ishtar and Ereshkigal were fashioned using Celestial essence and matured forms. Still, it did intimidate and confuse her.
She scanned the sky, seeing a few prospective birds she could select from to carry her across the river. Apate hesitated, her mind still drawing in on itself to question her future.
Primordial Olympus is in conquest mode, and it sucks that both Hera and Ares are here… On the plus side, if I can get my girdle back from Hera, I could trick my way out of these chains. It’s not like that Olympian tramp will give it up without a fight, and I couldn’t compete with a rat… Pathetic.
Her narrowed vision drifted down to Valentina, spite mixing into her chest for some reason. Should I make a bridge and have her think she’s walking across it as she’s drowning inside the river? It would force them to jump in after her, getting all wet and miserable…
Deciding it could help ease some of the pressure against her breast, Apate impressed her reality onto the girl’s undefended soul—as soon as she did so, though, her vision went black.
“Huh? Are you kidding me!”
Apate’s teeth locked as she felt a cage practically drop out of the sky to box her in, yet a chill ran through her veins when she realized Valentina wasn’t capable of something like this, which meant…
“Nungal… No. No, no, no…”
Panic entered her voice as she realized the trap she’d walked blindly into; her expanding force pressed against the cell she’d been boxed into, reflecting it right back at herself. She couldn’t trick herself—it was impossible—but Nungal had accounted for that, twisting her energy to seep right past her walls.
“Hmm-hmm-hmm. Enjoy the trip! Be wiser next time, Ms. Bitter.”
“You don’t understand! Not like this!” she pleaded, yet, it was too late.
“Apate…”
Ice flooded her veins as a confused, dangerous, powerful snarl came from behind her. She didn’t want to turn around—she couldn’t—her lungs were in her throat.
“You think… why are you in my Realm—where is Mother—Oneiros, why did you bring Apate here?”
All thoughts from her past were washed away—all experiences—she was back in Primordial Olympus, and everything she’d just gone through had been a manifestation of her own mind.
“Hehehe. Sister, Brother, how long has it been since you’ve seen each other?” Oneiros whispered to Hypnos—the Personification of Sleep—and Apate, blinding her in his mist as he walked around her. “When was it, Hypnos?”
“It’s been quite some time since you’ve visited The Dream… Is Mother with you?”
“Mmh… Where is Mother, Apate?”
Tears came to Apate’s blinded eyes as Hypnos’ voice lowered. “What did you do to Mother… Did you actually try to trick her, as you were boasting?”
“Mother’s gone, Hypnos… I cannot feel her consciousness seeking relief to enter your sphere.”
Her brothers—personifications of dreams and sleep—circled to her front in the haze; she feared seeing the looks on their faces as she trembled. It wasn’t her fault; it couldn’t have been… Mother loved her games. Yet, her brother’s harsh words made her feel less than dirt.
She fumbled to find her voice. She couldn’t escape her siblings’ powers; Hera had her girdle. “N-No… It was a simple trick… I wasn’t the reason she left! You have to believe me, Hypnos… Oneiros, it wasn’t me! Ack!”
She bit her tongue as a lilting, feminine voice whispered into her ear, sending an arctic hiss through her nerves and making her eyes defocus.
“Apate, Apate…” Her obscured sister’s voice; she loved to creep in from behind. “You believed your powers so great that you could subvert our mother’s design… ruin everything she’d planned? Your hubris is stunning—it would make Hybris blush.”
“Nemesis… No. I would never!”
“Then why did she leave, Apate… Why did she go after Zeus when he backed down from his plans to turn against the Celestials?”
“I… I don’t know,” she cried, yet Apate could feel her siblings pulling away from her with every word, Nemesis speaking in their ears that she was guilty, and another voice entered the nightmare.
“Oh, the mockery you have made of us, Apate. It’s sad, really… Mother used to love you, but you never knew when you pushed things too far.”
“Momus, I’m not lying—Nemesis, I didn’t do it—she was gone when I got to the banquet! Where were all of you?”
A haunting tickle grazed her neck and slid down her spine as another sister entered the circle, whispers entrapping her. “I’ve felt mother’s misery regarding your inability to say no to the Olympians, Apate… Hera was the last straw.”
“You don’t know that, Oizys! None of us can perfectly perceive what Mother feels… Why are you blaming me?!”
“Haaa. The stupidity, Sister… Are you really so blind? Can you even see us… Do you want to see us or continue blocking us out? Coward.”
Swallowing her tears, Apate screamed. “I’m not stupid, Koalemos! You’re all stupid! You won’t listen to me! I didn’t play my trick… Mother was gone—she didn’t leave us—she was just… gone… You’re all so stupid!”
A guttural, low, and power-infused voice shook Apate’s frame. “Who was the last to see her, Sister?”
“W-Why are you here, Keres… Keres… I didn’t chase Mother away… I didn’t! Please, someone, believe me… I know there wasn’t any trace of a struggle—I know I bragged to you all, b-but I didn’t!”
An ax felt like it was against the nape of her neck as the Personification of Doom and Fate echoed the words of her other siblings. “You were always the one Mother had the most trouble with, Apate… You have destroyed us all.”
Legs giving way, Apate had to believe this was a nightmare given to her by Hypnos because all her siblings wouldn’t turn on her at once—she didn’t destroy their family—she needed help to find out who did, but everyone was pointing the finger at her.
“I did cause trouble—it’s why I was made, Moros—why didn’t you predict our doom?! Stupid! You’re all stupid!”
“Apate?”
Hope sparked in her breast at the soft-spoken words of her sister. “Philotes, please, talk some sense into them. I know I caused a lot of trouble, but it wasn’t me this time!”
Her sister’s hesitant voice numbed Apate’s body. “Apate… where’s your girdle? Eris said…”
“Eris is a liar; you all know she is!” Apate snapped, beginning to hyperventilate as the Personification of Strife entered the ring, silhouette hovering just outside of view.
“A liar, am I, Apate? Where is your girdle… Your energy was discovered at the scene, and a note beside mother’s dish.”
Apate’s mind blanked, and she rubbed away her tears, sniffing a little to clear her nose while trying to recall the scene she’d walked in on. She couldn’t say she’d ‘lent’ it to Hera since it had probably been the Olympian Gods that orchestrated this, and it would implicate her working with them.
The dots linked like Moros’ chains around her throat, dragging her into certain destruction; her throat felt sticky and thick. “D-Dolos will vouch for my whereabouts… We were planning it together.”
“Dolos?” Eris chimed, using a note Apate hadn’t heard since they were young and constantly fighting amongst themselves—they were family, though—they wouldn’t abandon her; their mother wouldn’t.
Her brother’s drawn-out sigh felt like he was deflating her lungs. “Apate… I’d love to take your side on this, but you went on without me, wanting to take all the glory yourself.”
“No, Dolos… heh, you’re playing a trick on me… Brothers… Sisters…”
A dry and callous voice made her shoulders shrink—Epiphron—the Personification of thoughtfulness, carefulness, and sagacity. “You were always such a disappointment, Sister. If you were even a tiny bit more considerate of Mother… maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“I… didn’t try to run Mother off… No! I didn’t! Please… please believe me… I didn’t.”
“Huu-haaa. Well, what’s done is done,” Ponos sighed—the Personification of hardship and toil—not defending her but attempting to move past the blunder that was her existence. “Mom’s gone. So… who will lead us now that she’s out of the picture?”
“Who else?” answered three women as one voice—The Parcae—The Fates or the Personifications of Destiny. “Thanatos is the only one capable of keeping the Olympians from subjugating us.”
A new ray of light shone through Apate’s darkness. “Sisters! You must know the fate of Mother—those that she fought—those around her… Surely you know it by my own fate?”
“Yes. Yes, do tell,” Hybris—Personification of insolence, violence, and outrageous behavior—laughed, her aggressive tone making Apate shrink. “What should we do with our, heh, sister… after this atrocity? Mother isn’t here to save you.”
A voice of reason came from far away. “Hybris… Apate is our sister, and describing her as anything more than perfection personified throws mud in our parents’ faces. Apate lost her mother, too—let’s not forget that.”
“Elea!” Apate cried, hoping to see her glorious sister of mercy, clemency, compassion, and pity, yet all she could find was mist. “Please, Elea… I need someone to believe—”
“Let there be peace…”
Silence fell among her siblings as one voice cleared the smoke, revealing her elder brother—Thanatos—clad in his black robe that showed off his muscular, gray skin and adorned with the items of power their mother had given him.
His long, curved scythe made Apate tremble; few things could kill a Personification, but her big brother’s gleaming silver weapon could eradicate her to the very essence.
Thanatos’ bright, white eyes fixated on her as she lay on the ground in her grief and tears, yet his question was directed to The Fates. “Where is our sister’s girdle?”
The stunning three-and-one Personification—a child, a woman, and an elder—held up their hands in unison to show a passage through time that was powerful enough to penetrate the burnt record of Existence, showing precisely what Apate feared the most.
Her elder brother’s fingers tightened around the shaft of his weapon, and one by one, her siblings were revealed through the gray haze. “You gave the Olympians the means to enter our mother’s realm without notice, Apate… You are the reason Father and Mother are no longer here.”
“I… she wanted it for a mortal—if you had been there to save me—”
“There she goes,” Hybris snickered, “incapable of taking even the slightest bit of responsibility for her actions.”
“It was meant to be used against Zeus—to trick him—our enemy!”
Dolos’ words further drove a knife into her chest. “It seems you were the one tricked, Sister…”
“N-No… Elea?” Her always caring, glorious sister turned her eyes away, gripping her arm and unable to look at her. “Philotes…”
Every one of her siblings refused to address her weeping pleas, and only Thanatos looked at her. “Brothers… Sisters… I didn’t do this on purpose… I’m sorry… I’m sorry. Please, Hypnos, say this is a nightmare… Say I’ll wake up, Oneiros!”
Only Thanatos’ words came, spiking her heart as he turned away, leaving her alone. “You failed this family… You are no longer our sister.”
“No!” The wind rushed past Apate’s stained face, stinging her skin as she screamed. She had no one; she’d been born to a large family—she’d never been alone—yet now, she was truly alone. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Forgive me… Please, forgive me…”
Cold arms embraced Apate as the sound of clinking chains came from her sides; Elinor’s soft smile came into focus, and she felt scrapes and bruises across her body as the Supreme Goddess held her.
“Huu-haaa.” A short chuckle came from the woman. “I almost thought I would have to call Thor to save you. Wouldn’t that have been a disaster? Are you alright?”
Unable to speak, Apate buried her head against her shoulder and wept.
“Hey… I know. Having things turned around on you is never fun… I’m here to listen if you want that. Hehe… It’s okay… cry as much as you need.”
It took a minute to compose herself, and Elinor brought them to the lower section of the cliff; Apate didn’t know what to think, so she said what was on her heart.
“You… only want to use me!”
An enraging smile tilted the white-haired woman’s lips. “Sure. I won’t deny that you can be very useful. Although, that’s not my preferred method. I’d rather have trust between us, as hard as that may seem to believe, seeing as your entire Personification revolved around deception, but… I get the feeling that you aren’t particularly keen on that these days.”
“Hah-ack,” she sniffed and choked. “How can you possibly trust me; you chained my Core so you wouldn’t need trust!”
Elinor tilted her head to the side; her calm approach was infuriating. “True. Steps always need to be taken in order, even if they initially seem cruel. We could try for some freedom… slowly but surely, if you want? It has to be mutual.”
“How?” Apate demanded, attempting to stand but failing and forcing Elinor to support her to sit against a rock shelf. “What freedom are you talking about?”
Elinor sat beside her and looked up at the clear sky with a fond smile. “I may be The Jailor of Eternities, but I am also a fair judge. You have something to get off your chest; I’m here to listen… heh, it’s kind of my job. So… a little honesty here, and we’ll see about some freedom. Sound reasonable?”
Apate sucked on her cut lip, tasting blood—it had likely been torn open when her face hit a rock on her descent—she was durable, but not that durable.
“Mmh… The details?”
“I’ll allow you to try and trick me, and release you from all your bindings, save be it for the children and Thor… Sorry, but we have to make everyone happy,” she said with a helpless shrug that caught Apate off-guard.
“You’ll open yourself up for attack?”
“Bold!” Elinor snickered, nudging her side as if they were friends. “I’ll give you the opportunity, but that doesn’t mean you’ll succeed. Maybe you’ll find joy in tricks again… The fun that makes everyone laugh, and, if you provide a little help… maybe someone will thank you. Wouldn’t that be crazy, huh?”
Apate couldn’t believe what she was hearing as the Empress of the Dead flashed her teeth, got up, and offered her a hand. “You… aren’t trying to trick me?”
“Attempting to trick a Personification of the art seems like a good way to make an enemy I didn’t need to incite. I need you on my side, not as a forced enemy.”
One word hit Apate unlike anything in ages. “You… need me on your side?”
“Why else would I go zipping to your rescue?” Elinor laughed, pulling her up. “I know my daughter can be vicious, but I’m guessing you can, as well. Throw it back in her face. Let her feel the pain next time. Hehe. I’d love to hear her crying once… Wow, I haven’t heard her tear up since… she was five hundred years old? Huh. Time flies.”
“Heh-hehehe. You certainly are not like the Primordials, Mistress.”
Elinor shrugged. “I find it easier to make friends when you have something you both can gain, and my darling daughter could use a good humbling every so often. Hehe. A mother’s got to protect her child and teach them to have tough skin! Quite the duality, huh?”
“I… suppose it is,” Apate whispered, thinking back on her own mother, who would scold and help smooth over her messes.
“So?”
Apate looked up at the woman, seeing her left hand on her hip and a half-smile on her mouth. “Hmm?”
“Why don’t we talk? I doubt the kids will find a way across that river without your help, which means we all have work to do. Tell me about yourself; I won’t judge… heh, yet!” she winked. “I’ll give you a fair shake, so… tell me what’s haunting you.”
“Heh… what makes you think I want to tell you?”
Elinor took a step off to the side and brushed back her braid while looking across the plains. “Because… everyone wants to tell their story to someone who will listen, and… I’ll listen. Let’s not get tripped up on what is sure to be regret if you let your pride blind you… Share this Hell you experience.”
Emotion welled up in Apate’s chest, seeing the faces of her brothers and sisters, who already believed she’d screwed up everything and refused to see her side of things.
“What… if you tell me it was my fault?”
“Haha. Well, then it would be the truth, and you’d know it, but… I feel there’s far more to this story than meets the eye. So… explain it to me. Right now, I’m here for you.”
Apate didn’t know where to start—it took her ten minutes just to form a cohesive sentence—but eventually, she opened up her locked heart to show the scars she carried within it.
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