The sound of the hush of wind through pines, brushing against the snow was heard in quiet reverence.
Then came the footsteps—soft, careful, immortal.
Artemis stood in the clearing; silvery yellow eyes narrowed at the sky. Moonlight draped over her like a second cloak, but she was not alone. In her arms, swaddled in a thick woolen blanket, a toddler with hair the color of the setting sun slept without stirring.
A child of light and warmth, born under a god's gaze and a mortal's Affection.
"I did what you asked for but still don't like this," she said, her voice like windchimes in a storm.
Behind her, Apollo didn't smile for once. The sun god's usual glow was dimmed, his golden laurel circlet dulled as he stepped forward. His clear sky-blue eyes—so vibrant they seemed to pull the dawn with them—were fixed not on his sister, but the child.
"He'll be safer with you," Apollo said, kneeling to adjust the blanket around the boy's tiny shoulders. "She's gone. Maeve fought that thing to the bitter end, but…"
Artemis sighed. "I told you taking a mortal lover from Ares's line was asking for trouble."
"I didn't take her. She was fire and fists and charm and she chose me. And Cyrus… he was the best part of us both."
The boy shifted in Artemis's arms, murmuring in his sleep. A spark of warmth rippled through the air—Apollo's presence, always radiant when near his son.
Artemis looked down at the boy again, this sleeping ember with soft red curls and faint freckles across his cheeks.
"What do you expect me to do with him? I don't raise children. Especially boys."
Apollo chuckled lightly. "Don't 'raise' him. Just… protect him. Train him a little. Let him see the stars from your side of the sky. He won't be a child for long."
"Even so, the Hunters—"
"They'll understand. He's not a threat. He's just a baby who lost his mother and shouldn't lose both parents in one night."
Silence passed between the twin gods like a river under ice.
At last, Artemis dipped her head, accepting the weight in her arms and the burden in her heart.
"I'll take him. But only for a while."
Apollo smiled, but his voice betrayed his ache. "That's all I ask."
He bent forward and kissed his son's forehead, a single note of sunlight blooming over the sleeping child. Cyrus let out a soft, content sigh, a flicker of gold glowing faintly in his blue eyes even while closed.
"He's got your eyes," Artemis noted.
"And Maeve's stubborn soul," Apollo replied, rising. "When he grows, you'll see."
The god turned away then, stepping into the rising dawn. His light faded with the first breath of morning, the cold of the forest rushing in to replace his warmth.
Artemis looked down again, this time softer.
"Well, little sunspot," she murmured. "Let's see what you're made of."
And in the cradle of the ancient woods, under moonlight and frost, the journey of Cyrus Ceallaigh began—not with prophecy or battle cries, but with a promise whispered between gods and a heart still too young to break.
The sun was starting to set in the sky when Artemis arrived at her hunters' encampment, a bundle wrapped in soft blankets nestled securely in her arms. Her silvery yellow eyes glinted as the moonlight bathed the forest clearing, and her Hunters—alert, armed, and slightly baffled—gathered around the goddess.
She handed the baby to Phoebe, who started to cry after waking up. She cradles the baby and mouthed to her hunters that they will talk once she returns, then she disappears along with her chariot.
Phoebe, one of the oldest huntress and their best healer and Tamiko Kazube, Daughter of Nike looked at each other and glanced at the baby who didn't stop crying. "Perhaps, it is hungry, so Should I prepare milk for it?" Said Tamiko with a look of confusion.
Zoe Nightshade looking very irritated at the sound of the baby's screams, nods and said, "Whatever thou can do, thou do just stop theez spawn of devils screams"
Then after a long night from the hunters side, they saw their goddess appearing in the camp and they immediately surround her to know the reason for their sufferings yesterday.
"My Lady, why did thou bring a boy?" Zoe Nightshade asked, her eyebrows furrowed.
"It's temporary," Artemis said coolly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "This is Cyrus Ceallaigh, son of my brother Apollo and a mortal woman who perished in a monster attack. My brother asked me to care for him until he is old enough for Camp Half-Blood."
"But the code—"
"Aye, I know," Artemis interrupted, her voice calm but firm. "No boys among the Hunt. But this is an exception. He's not even two. Hardly capable of disrupting anything."
Phoebe crossed her arms, skeptical. "He already disrupted my sleep with all that crying yesterday"
"Oh, come now," said Rebecka, a mortal from the 19th century with a wild mop of red hair and a thick Scottish accent. She leaned in, tickling Cyrus's foot. "He's just wee. Look at that face. No monster can stay angry around that."
"That's not true," said Ling, daughter of Ares. "He screamed for six hours straight yesterday. Even the wolves were howling in protest."
"He misses his mother," Artemis said quietly.
The Hunters fell silent.
"She was strong," Artemis added. " You know her Maevis Ceallaigh -
" daughter of Ares. Dark hair, warm brown eyes who didn't look like she's war god's child, until she wields her axe and fights, whom we also invited many times to join our hunters, but couldn't.. Her? But isn't she- Asked Maya, daughter of Dionysus so shocked that she stopped speaking.
"Aye, A very brave and talented woman too. She started business and become successful too after leaving Camp half blood and she had more brains than any war god's child I've met in centuries." Artemis said with a smile.
"And she fall for Apollo out of all people?" muttered Zoe, bewildered.
"Even the mighty are fools for love," Artemis said with a sigh.
"I just do not comprehend," muttered Helena, a hunter from ancient Rome. "Ares and Apollo are opposites. One's fury and blood, the other light and melody."
"Apparently she liked both," Phoebe added with a smirk. "Maybe she wanted a kid who could bench press a minotaur and recite poetry."
Cyrus, as if on cue, started wailing again.
"Oh gods, not again," moaned Tamiko covering her ears. "We've fed him, rocked him, sang to him—"
"Thou sang to him?" Artemis asked looked mildly amused.
"Desperation is a mighty motivator, My lady" Tamiko replied.
"What do we try now?" asked Najwa Miller, daughter of Hecate, holding a bottle and looking hopeless.
"Try the nectar drops," Rebecka offered. "Worked yesterday."
"He did vomit upon my boots after that," Ling Lan, Daughter of dementer muttered.
"Let me try," Zoe sighed. She took Cyrus carefully, cradling him like one might a very fragile—and very noisy—artifact. "Hark, small sun spawn. We are fierce immortal huntresses of Artemis. We do not beg. We do not plead. And we most certainly do not—"
Cyrus hiccupped and blinked up at her with wet, bright blue eyes.
Zoe froze.
"—melt into puddles," Rebecka finished for her with a grin.
Zoe scowled, but when Cyrus gave a tiny giggle and reached out to tug at her braid, she sighed. "Very well. But I shan't change any nappies."
"Thou art on the rotation like the rest of us," Tamiko grinned. "Welcome to motherhood, Zoe."