Page 57 of Siriarna
“I think I’ll join you two.”
“I thought semi gods were forbidden to attend a higherceremony without invitation,” he looks at me sceptically, then to Apollo, who nods his agreeance at the change of plan.
“It’s okay Roman. I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”
My cryptic response is met with raised eyebrows but he does not push the point any further.
If I’m honest, I’m hoping Psyche will be amongst the guests. We have unfinished business. Perhaps a wedding is not the best place to have the necessary confrontation, but my mother did try to erase my existence, so I doubt there’ll ever be a right time. And after my meeting with Zeus going better than expected, I am poised, ready for a familial battle. Just to be safe, I silently ask the Fates to smooth the pathway ahead.
******
Apollo’s horses let out a familiar neigh as I board the chariot yet again. Although this time, I will not take charge of the reins. Instead, I gaze abstractedly at the horizon once airborne, and try to prepare for the unknown. A light gust of wind kisses my skin cooling my temperament—a reminder to stand strong.A message from the Fates?
With Apollo at the helm and out of earshot, Roman whispers, “Siriarna, I know that faraway look. I’m worried you’re going to do something irrational.”
Ever perceptive, is my dear friend. If only he knew how true that statement could end up. If my mother is at the ceremony, I’m not even sure of the consequences myself. “Hmm.” I respond vaguely.
Luckily, he doesn’t press me any further. The Council Arena spectacular shifts his focus.
“Wow,” he whistles as we pull up at the ceremony. “This is something else.”
I agree, the whole space has been completely transformed. Flowers fill the Arena providing a picturesque sight and aheavenly fragrance. It reminds me of Stefanie’s masquerade parties. Only this time, I am not hiding behind a mask.
I scan the small gathering of gods in the arena but do not find my mother amongst them.
Standing at the end of the aisle is Hermes, flanked by Zeus and Hera. I wonder who has caught the attention of the great messenger. Hermes has been declared a play-god and one who is happy that his reputation precedes him. I am eager to meet his bride.Maybe, when I take my place here in the Sky Realm, the two of us will be friends.
I have rejected Hera’s warning. I belong in this realm, it is my birthright, and I will take what is rightfully mine. For the sake of myself, and the sacrifice of Eileithyia. And above all, despite Psyche.
Apollo guides both Roman and me to the front of the ceremony, a place where we are not overshadowed. I am again, reunited with my father but it is not his eyes that I am drawn to. Hera is casting an icy stare in my direction.She knows.My body stiffens at the visual interrogation.
Roman’s hand claps mine and he squeezes it gently. “Everything okay?” he asks in response to my rigid posture.
I don’t trust myself to speak, so I nod instead. All the while searching the ceremony guests for my mother, who remains absent.
Zeus clears his throat, “The Ceremony shall begin,” he announces. And all divine attendees turn to face the Arena entrance.
“Oh My Gods,” Roman speaks out loud as he spies the bride.
Apollo instantly moves to my side and places a hand on my shoulder, “Siriarna—”
He tries to drag me from the Arena but I step into the aisle in defiance. My breath instantly catches in my throat, and the deafening thud of my heartbeat fills my ears.
Alexandraya is dressed in white. And my mother is standing by her side.
Merciless thoughts enter my mind. I can’t stop them and I don’t want to. The sky turns from its heavenly blessing, dotted with fluffy white clouds, to an ominous and threatening black.
Alexandraya shrieks as her eyes scan the Arena finding both Roman and myself in front of the temporary alter. Psyche, following her gaze, looks at me, then Zeus and turns to flee.
Don’t you dare, Mother.
That’s when all the rage pent up inside my veins is released skyward. The atmosphere growls in response. The previous gentle breeze transforms into an ear piercing blustery howl, and the clouds charge like a giant battery in the sky. A downpour of torrential raindrops smashes into the arena. Flowers are ripped apart, petals strewn lifeless throughout the space. The intensity of the thunderstorm is gathering momentum with each ragged breath that I release.
“Stop, Siriarna.” Roman begs as he realises my power is responsible.
All I hear is my heartbeat.
Apollo places one hand on each of my shoulders, trying to break my concentration with the cumulonimbus, but my mind stands strong in unison with the clouds.