Chapter 1.2 – Sun, Moon and Polaris
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The streams of sunlight filling every space between heaven and earth slept peacefully, replaced by the silver moon that hung high like a great luminous pearl showering on the breast of heaven and earthen soil.
With the advent of the moonlight glow, a little angel’s laughter came to be—the animals in the evergreen plains and forest looked towards the direction of the Aegean Sea. They ran in peace, in joy, in pleasure for a great deity was born.
Zeus who sat high in the thrones of Olympus heard the little angel of seraph’s laugher.
“The moon blesses you and all animals rejoices in unity. You shall be named Artemis.”
After the seventh day, the subtle and profound beauty of the moon had yet to disappear, only the slight fade into the background for a fraction of rest.
The stretch of the sun appeared in the foreground and coalesced with the moon, forming an angelic blended tone.
The sun and moon who rarely met, and almost always missed each other, the sign of gods its only form of connection, at this time, catched up and the world stared in awe.
The birds flew with the zephyr wind; mermaids rose from the depths of the ocean, their voice a pleasant melody; the wind carried the world’s wishes, carried their unheard prayers, their unsung love notes.
All was pleasant. It was peaceful.
The sunlight beamed and caressed the heavens and all corners of the world.
A loud cry of a small saintly cherub came to be.
Soon after, all divine scenery in the sky slowly disappeared into the unknown.
All was back to normal.
Zeus smiled. “The sun blesses you, and all living beings. You shall be named Apollo.”
As Zeus spoke of this, he failed to realize when those dreamlike scenery seemed to disappear, galaxies were woven together towards the Polaris constellation in the Northern Star, and under the starry night, a luminous starlight fell with the sun and moon.
From among Zeus’ treasure troves, he took out pairs of bow and arrows; one coated an aureate gold, and the other a silver, white snow. This treasures belonged to the primordial god, Ouranos, protogenos of the azure sky.
As Zeus prepared to personally gift the pair of gold and silver bow and arrow to his newborn offsprings, one of the Olympic gods came to report of Hera’s arrival.
Zeus hurriedly called for Iris and informed her to send his gifts on his behalf.
“The silver bow, with its omnipotent arrow will become Apollo’s right hand man; this golden bow and arrow will accompany the life of Artemis.”
… … …
When Iris brought the heavenly gift crafted from the hands of the protegenos god, she was caught in surprise by the sight laid before her.
The nameless island of Delos brimmed with goddesses—there stood Rhea, the Titaness; the goddess of justice, Astrea; Amphitrite, the wife of the god of sea, and many of Poseidon’s offsprings; even Mother Gaia was there.
But what surprised her the most were the little angels. There were not two innocent little ones, but three.
The beautiful night goddess saw Iris, and looked unwittingly at the endless sky.
Her eyes were like two onyx gems slumbering in milky pools. They were a-smoulder with passion and had a hypnotic quality to them, gleaming with an unearthly quality above her concave cheekbones and shone with the faraway look of a star gazer.
She bit her lips. “Iris, you have come. Has our King said anything?”
The summer sun leaked in and burnished her bronze with its rays.
Iris placed the heavenly treasure beside her. “By His own accord, the golden bow and arrow will accompany the life of Artemis and the silver bow and arrow will become Apollo’s right hand man.”
Leto’s full and pillowy lips parted slightly, a contrast to Leto’s calm composure, the other goddesses were at loss for words, but thereafter (with the exclusion of Leto), the goddesses observed the discrepancy between the third-born and the first two.
In conclusion, they thought, it is only proper Zeus is unwilling to name the third-born.
Artemis and Apollo’s divine gifts were ordained by the eternal laws of fate and heaven. Clotho’s prophetic decree gave indication of their boundless future. An otherworldly, divine view came to existence at the time of the first and second born’s birth.
When Artemis and Apollo grow of age, their innate strength and divine gifts will long surpass the current generational gods.
The eldest sister, Artemis, subconsciously assisted the night goddess in her bouts of pain with her divine gift. As for Leto’s third born, the goddesses’ believed he will forever remain a generic, mediocre god for only a small insignificant star appeared towards the Northern Star.
Leto’s youngest could not compare. He is not as handsome as his elder brother nor as desirable as his elder sister. He had locks of sable-black and a pair of champagne-black eyes. For the remainder of his life, he will remain in the shadow of his eldest siblings.
Were it not for the presence of the gods, he would live well.; were it not for his eldest sister and brother, he would live well; were it not for the prophetic oracle, he would live well.
But such is the fate of destiny.
It blesses and curses.
However, Leto adored her third-born child. He inherited her traits; her tresses of obsidian-black swooped over her shoulder and her dewy, onyx-raven colored eyes were very much like his, like the colors of the night.
She thought this child of hers to be just as handsome as his elder brother and just as desirable as his elder sister.
At night, a banquet was held. Canapes, wine, and conversations clothed the island for several days before returning to the silent night.
… … …
Leto caressed Artemis in her embrace on her left arm, Apollo on her right; as for her third, Adelos, he cooed and slept peacefully at the cradle of her feet.
Her son did not receive the blessing of Zeus so Leto gave him the name Adelos, a tribute to the floating island under her feet, and as means to thank her dear sister, Asteria.
Adells’ raven-colored eyes fluttered. He awoke and turned his small, lithe body, gazing at his brother and sister.
It is fair the first and second born child of Leto’s are deserving of the awe and recognition as the future of Olympus. The figure of Artemis and Apollo grew to such extent after a few months. They looked to be at least three years of age and Adelos left behind, could be comparable to a mortal child learning to walk.
Adelos turned the opposite direction. A heavy knot formed deep within and the little child sighed. When will you wake up? Adelos looked pitiable. When his consciousness awakened, all fit into place. He came to a sudden bout of realization that he’d come to the era of Ancient Greece—it was not the ancient Greece of history, but the ancient Greece of mythology.
His mother the beautiful night goddess; father king of gods; and his elder brother and sister his sun and moon. In this life, it is a dangerous world. The gods messed around with the lives of man and deities for simple entertainment, so Adelos thought it much safer to live with his elder brother and sister.
Leto saw Artemis and Apollo’s appetite satiated and set them down, allowing them to play. Apollo grabbed the silver bow and ran towards the wilderness. Artemis hurried to Adelos’ side, and teased him with her cute, little fingers.
Adelos saw this and began to cry.
The night goddess heard the wailing cries of Adelos. She caressed him, whispering, its okay. Artemis’ mouthed quivered. Her eyes watery and on the verge of tears. Leto sighed helplessly. Leto picked her up and allowed her to play with her little brother.