Triteia (triteia) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-06-25 16:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | morpheus, triteia |
Dream, send me a sign, turn back the clock
Who: Triteia (triteia) & Morpheus (chain_of_dreams)
What: Grasping for straws, finding the Lord of Dreams.
Where: A dream
When: Friday night
Warnings: None.
The ruins of her city. Only two buildings, the temples of Athena and Ares, still stand tall and proud. Crumbled stone, ashes and dust everywhere. A lonely and horribly misplaced pie in the middle of the street.
The nymph glances around; blinks when the city vanishes. Water, cool on her skin, warm to the touch. Walls and pillars materialise around her - Poseidon's palace - and with them return the happiest days of her life. She is a child, roaming the halls in search of her father. A large hand settles on her head and someone - grandpapa - tells her that waiting is easier when you play a game. As she reaches for the snail shell piece, her fingers grow longer.
Blood on her hands and face, Triteia laughs at the retreating backs of the raiders. Taking a city that sacrifices to Wisdom and War and War and Bloodshed is impossible. Her boy sleeps in his cradle far away from the city walls. Behind her, Ares laughs, too, and wraps an arm around her waist. The moment he touches her, however, she crumbles to dust.
Sitting in Triton's lap, the little girl chatters away while her father tries to braid pearls and sea shells into her hair. He has no real talent for it but she doesn't mind. She's happy to be able to spend time with him. It looks horrible and she loves it. The image in the mirror begins to fade. Triteia stares wide-eyed at the reflection of Triton, fear in her eyes. "This is not what they remember," he says quietly, kissing the top of her small head. "Don't leave yet."
Darkness sweeps her up.
A small glowing spot calls out to her, grows larger and larger. Almond shaped eyes watch the nymph, a gentle smile beckons. "Stay a little longer, child."
She is in a photograph, smiling happily, while the people around her try their damned best to match her cheerfulness for her sake. It's a horrible family picture but she loves it. Turning around, she watches them watch her fade. "This is not what they remember," they say softly.
They were right. The mortals knew nothing about her. All the descendants of their worshippers had turned their attention elsewhere. She merely existed as a side note. One of Triton's many daughters. One of Ares' many companions. One of Athena's many sisters and priestesses.
Mortals weren't interested in the real stories. They preferred indecencies, bloodshed and tragedies. She could give them the war nymph but what would that do to her?
Blood on her hands and face, the nymph stared across the stormy sea sullenly.