"The Greek gods, with their trials and tribulations, tend to forget that it must apply to them as well. Such cruel rulers who seem to forget that their very existence is tied to the mortals."
Adamantia's eyes fluttered open to nothingness. Only the murky gloom of a supernatural darkness with the voice of her mother giving the realm some weight. Even in this realm, the pain Cronos inflicted upon her was a constant reminder of her powerlessness.
"I have to get stronger." Adamantia mumbled to herself as she stood tall, swaying onto her feet as she did so. Alas, the throbbing pain of her body and the dread within her mind, created a dreadful tableau of overwhelming sensations.
The ground beneath her seemed to pulse and shift, like the cold, scaly skin of a massive serpent. Flashes of iridescent scales flickered through the darkness, intertwining, forming patterns that both mesmerized and terrified.
Every twist and turn made her heart race faster, the sensation of thousands of tiny fangs grazing her flesh, threatening to pull her under.
Water, dark and churning, began to rise around her, its surface mirrored and deceptive, reflecting grotesque distortions of the world above. She commanded her feet to move, her arms to thrash at the rising water, but she stood petrified. It was the similar feeling of Cronos's power.
The sound of the swirling current was deafening, a constant roar that tried to drown out her thoughts. Then, with the ferocity of a lightning bolt, an image seared into her mind. In the downpour, her mother stood desolate before a magnificent statue of Athena, her frame racked with sobs.
"O Athena, I am your servant. Protect me, my Goddess!"
The droplets of rain seemed to mix with her tears, each one carrying the weight of sorrow and regret. But Adamantia could see something else. The rain, the way it pelted against her mother was perverted. The water did not wash away her sins but it served to burn her skin as it served another God.
Another lightning flash, and the statue of Athena stirred to life. Her majestic features contorted into a mask of rage. "For your betrayal," her voice thundered, echoing through the void, "You shall bear the visage of dread. You shall be Medusa!"
As she spoke, her mother's beautiful countenance twisted, hair turning to writhing snakes, eyes morphing into bottomless pits of despair.
Water continued to rise, forming a moat around the transformed Medusa, her haunting reflection mirrored in the tumultuous depths. Another vision materialized, this time of a brave warrior, determination etched onto his face. With a swift motion, he severed Medusa's head, the once-proud figure now reduced to a trophy of his conquest.
But the nightmare wasn't done. The severed head floated towards Adamantia, mouth agape, releasing a gut-wrenching scream.
"Adamantia!" The eyes, once filled with endless sorrow, now blazed with a haunting glow, locking onto her with a desperation that pierced her very soul.
A chilling sense of dread settled over her, and just as the weight of the vision threatened to crush her spirit, she jolted awake.
"Adamantia!"
Gasping for air, her surroundings came into focus, the haunting remnants of the nightmare slowly fading, leaving behind a palpable fear that lingered long after.
"Adamantia, are you okay? It's me…. Ahmanet."
Blinking the blurriness away, Adamantia realized that she was now in her penthouse. Ahmanet was staring at her with concern, her soft gaze instantly becoming an anchor for the woman to ground herself to reality.
"I had a nightmare….it was about…"
"Your mother?" Ahmanet whispered darkly, knowing exactly what it was that bothered her friend so immensely.
"Ah she is awake!" Apollo began to walk closer, a charming smile on his shining features, "We must talk to you sister."
"No, let her rest!" Ahmanet got up, standing between Apollo and Adamantia. "I have told you th-"
"Let Adamantia make her own decision. She is a member of the Greek pantheon after all, she has our blood." Apollo annunciated himself in a grandiose manner. If the man could be a poster boy for all the positive parts of Olympus, it would be him.
From his smile to the calculated swoop in his hair, the man was a personification of Olympus's grandeur. He was the sort of man who only asked a question and it would be answered within a split second, he wasn't the one to entertain debates.
"What sort of 'blood' bond advocates the spilling of their own? And fuck off for calling me, your goddamn sister! I have two siblings already and they are fucking pests! I don't need any fucking more that I want to constantly fucking kill or rip out their vocal cords for annoying me!" Adamantia said as she looked outside the window. The midday sun hung high in the azure sky. The room held an air of tension, so thick that it seemed the very walls pulsed with it.
Adamantia's features were contorted with lingering fear. Her sun-kissed skin was pale, covered in a sheen of sweat, a clear sign of her recent nightmare. The shadows of terror had yet to leave her striking eyes ever since she woke up.
Beside her was Ahmanet, her eyes filled with compassion and strength. Suddenly, the heavy tension was interrupted by a resounding crash. A shattered vase lay scattered in fragments, water and flowers strewn all over. Ares stood at the far end, his armor gleaming with wrath, his dark eyes aflame with fury.
"Enough, we need an answer!" He roared, veins bulging in his neck. "Do not try to deflect, Ahmanet. We know she knows something! Cronos's whereabouts are of utmost importance to Zeus!"
Apollo, looking comparatively serene but with a steely glint in his eyes, added, "She has information that could change the balance. Olympus demands answers."
Ahmanet rose gracefully but with a fiery aura. Her eyes, which held the promise of the desert's wrath, met Ares' challenge without flinching.
"You forget your place, God of War. This is not Olympus, and you do not dictate the laws here."
With a sweeping gesture of her arm, she continued, "Adamantia is under the protection of the Egyptian pantheon. You cannot just take her. There are ancient decrees that bind even the likes of you."
Ares clenched his fists, his knuckles white with the force of it. "This is about the greater good!"
"And this," Ahmanet's voice rang out like a clarion call, "is about honor and respect between realms."
Adamantia, winced, attempting to get up but decided against it.
"You standing here and fighting with us is useless. Cronos is already planning his next move. I advise that you seek the culprit from within." She looked up, defiance burning in her eyes.
"What do you mean?" Apollo asked Adamantia but before she could say anything, Ahmanet stepped up.
"Leave her alone for now, she is sporting an injury that I must tend to. If you wish to continue this conversation," she hissed, glaring at Ares and Apollo, "you will have to contend with the Egyptian Pantheon."
Leading them towards the door, Apollo fished out a card. He held it over his shoulder to Ahmanet who studied it before taking it from his hand.
"What is this Sun God?"
"A form of contact for Hermes. He is the messenger of the Gods. If you get any more information for us or if Adamantia wishes to talk, ask Hermes to fetch for either me or Ares."
The three were standing underneath the threshold of the studio apartment. Apollo craned his head to look inside where Adamantia's bedroom was left ajar. The two's eyes met and Apollo knew why she was so adamant on driving the Gods away.
He saw the eyes of Athena's once beloved priestess and sensed the blood of the ocean within that girl.
"Be careful… the times ahead will be filled with wars and fire."
"I'll keep that in mind."
With a resounding thud, Ahmanet closed the door on the two Gods. She stood akimbo, staring at the door until their presence would not leave. The silence left in the wake of Apollo and Ares was both a relief and a weighty presence. She slowly exhaled, letting the tension bleed out of her.
Ahmanet's footsteps were the only sound as she made her way to the adjacent bedroom. The room was dimly lit, with soft tendrils of sunset streaming through the draped windows. The scent of fresh bedsheets and alcohol hung heavily in the air, trying to mask the palpable tension.
Adamantia sat on the plush bed, her posture defeated, her expression a thousand miles away. Her eyes, usually so vibrant, were clouded with torment. She didn't seem to register Ahmanet's presence until she was right beside her.
Without a word, Ahmanet gently held out her hand, motioning to the injury Adamantia had sustained. Adamantia, her movements mechanical, revealed a bruised and angry mark on her midsection. As Ahmanet tenderly examined it, the weight of silence between them grew heavier.
"I'm so tired of this," Adamantia whispered, her voice choking with emotion. "Sometimes, I think that I didn't ask for any of this... these connections, these demands, this destiny and this anger."
She blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. "I feel like a pawn in their twisted games. I just... I don't understand why they have to be so... inhuman."
Adamantia laughed as if finding jest in her absurdist comment. Though the humans did not have Godly powers, they lived an ignorant life. Those who flew close to the sun were simply burnt, not cursed for an eternity. Adamantia was beginning to feel tired of eternity.
Ahmanet paused in her ministrations, locking eyes with Adamantia.
"The gods... they see things from a viewpoint we can never truly grasp. But it does not excuse how they treat those they deem lesser."
"Excuse? They are Gods, Ahmanet. They don't have the capability to have an excuse for anything! They do whatever they wish because they are Gods! We are simply their playthings." Adamantia's voice quivered; her vulnerability evident. "The nightmare... It was my mother. And it's because of them that they..."
She couldn't finish, the pain too raw, too fresh.
Without a word, Ahmanet gently pulled Adamantia into her embrace. The two women clung to each other, finding solace in their shared pain and understanding. Adamantia's muffled sobs resonated in the silence of the room, her anguish laid bare.
In that moment, there were no pantheons, no gods, no ancient decrees. There were just two beings, seeking and giving comfort, bound together by circumstance and shared pain. The walls of the bedroom bore silent witness to an intimacy born from adversity, a bond that promised strength in unity.
"Ahmanet…. tell me. What do you serve to be with me?"
The hushed ambience of the bedroom was occasionally punctuated by the soft rustling of the drapes and Adamantia's restrained sobs. She slowly pulled away from the embrace, her eyes still shimmering.
"You shouldn't be here, Ahmanet," Adamantia whispered, looking down to avoid meeting Ahmanet's eyes. "Being with me... it only brings you danger."
Ahmanet cupped Adamantia's chin, gently lifting her face so their eyes met. "Every moment in our lives carries danger, my dear. But some things... some people are worth that risk."
Adamantia took a shaky breath, her conflicting emotions evident. "I feel like I'm a curse. First my mother... and now, I draw you into the chaotic whirlwind of my life."
She tried to move away, her walls visibly rising, pushing against the closeness they had just shared. "Maybe... maybe it's better if you just leave."
Ahmanet's expression remained soft, but there was a certain resoluteness in her gaze. "Adamantia, life has taught me that we don't choose who we care for or how deeply we feel. And sometimes, despite our best efforts, we don't choose who we love either."
Adamantia's eyes widened in surprise. The depth of emotion she saw in Ahmanet's eyes took her breath away.
Ahmanet continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "I not only care for you, Adamantia, I love you. Not out of obligation or duty, but out of a deep, genuine affection. You might see your existence as a curse, but to me, you're a gift. A precious one."
Adamantia swallowed hard, the weight of Ahmanet's confession pressing down on her. Tears welled up again, but these were different — not tears of pain or frustration, but of recognition and gratitude.
The two women moved closer once again, drawn to each other by an irresistible pull. Their foreheads touched, and for a few moments, the outside world ceased to exist. The trials and tribulations, the gods and their machinations, all faded into oblivion. All that remained was the heartbeat of two souls intertwined and then, the two shared a tender kiss.
With every touch, the room seemed to grow warmer, a cocoon isolating them from the outside world. Ahmanet's fingers traveled from Adamantia's jawline, down to her neck, her collarbone, each point of contact imbued with a reverence that went beyond the physical. The sensation was electrifying; Adamantia's skin tingled, her heart rate spiked, and she felt a fire kindling deep within her.
In the dim light filtering through the curtains of Adamantia's bedroom, their eyes locked—windows to raw, unguarded souls. A palpable tension hung between them, charged with an intimacy that transcended mere physical attraction. Ahmanet, with a sultry smile, leaned closer, her lips almost brushing against Adamantia's as she spoke in a husky whisper,
"Tonight, you are my entire world."
The words triggered something primal in Adamantia. She pulled Ahmanet towards her, and their lips finally met, crashing like two celestial bodies in a universe of their own making. The kiss was fervent, intense—each mouth a crucible of desire that melted away their remaining defenses.
Ahmanet's hands roamed the contours of Adamantia's body, tracing lines of fire over the landscape of her skin, sparking a yearning that had been dormant for far too long. Adamantia felt as if each touch were imprinting onto her very soul, inscribing a love letter in a language only the two of them understood.
Responding in kind, Adamantia slid her hands under Ahmanet's shirt, caressing her back, feeling the muscles tense and relax with each touch. Ahmanet let out a breathy moan, a subtle acknowledgment of the pleasure that was both psychological and deeply, deeply physical.
Ahmanet's mouth traveled down Adamantia's neck, laying down soft, wet kisses that sent jolts of electricity straight to her core. When she reached the base, she lingered, nipping softly—just enough to mark, to claim, to signify possession in the most carnal sense.
"This is us, here and now," Ahmanet breathed into her ear, "and nothing else matters."
Adamantia, feeling a kind of abandon she'd never experienced before, moved her hands to Ahmanet's waist and pulled her even closer, feeling the heat of her body sear through her.
It was as if they were trying to meld into one, to erase the space between them until they were indistinguishable—two souls in one vessel, each completing the other in a way they had never thought possible.
As their bodies pressed tightly together, Adamantia felt a kind of release. Not just physical, but emotional, spiritual even. Here in this room, in this moment, they weren't just semi-divine beings caught in cosmic machinations; they were two souls laid bare, sharing an experience that was, in its purest essence, profoundly human.
Their fervent embrace intensified, their hands roaming with a fierce hunger. Adamantia's fingertips traced the contours of Ahmanet's body, following every curve and dip as if committing her form to memory. Her nails left a delicate trail of fire as they danced down Ahmanet's spine, evoking a shiver of pleasure.
Ahmanet's breath came in ragged gasps as she reveled in the sensations Adamantia's touch ignited. She captured Adamantia's lips in a searing kiss, a raw expression of their desire that left them both breathless. Their tongues tangled, their hands exploring each other with an urgency that bordered on desperation. Adamantia cupped her breasts, and their soft warmth aroused her as Ahmanet moaned.
The room was alive with the symphony of their passion—a chorus of soft moans, punctuated by the rhythm of their bodies moving together in unision.
Adamantia, her voice a seductive murmur, murmured, "I've need you so fucking much." Her lips found the sensitive skin of Ahmanet's collarbone, leaving a trail of tender kisses that ignited a fresh wildfire of desire. Her hand slipped between Ahmanet's legs, feeling her wetness.
Ahmanet's response was a wordless moan, her nails digging into Adamantia's back as waves of pleasure coursed through her. "Fuck, me too," she gasped, her voice filled with raw emotion. "Keep going."
Their fervent embrace intensified, their hands greedily exploring each other's every curve and contour. Ahmanet's nails dug into heated flesh, leaving a trail of fiery imprints as they navigated each other's forms.
As Adamantia's touch between her legs became more feverish, Ahmanet's breaths turned into sultry moans, her body arching in response to the electrifying sensations. She devoured Adamantia's lips, their kiss a wild tempest of need and longing. Tongues clashed in a frenzied dance, an unquenchable thirst for each other's essence driving them to the brink.
The room pulsated with their unbridled passion—a symphony of moans and gasps, punctuated by whispered declarations of love. Bodies moved in perfect harmony, an exquisite ballet of desire that knew no bounds.
Ahmanet, lost in the throes of ecstasy, couldn't contain her moans any longer. Each passionate touch, each stolen kiss, sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, and her moans became a symphony of raw desire.
"Fuck," she gasped between moans, her voice dripping with longing, "keep going." Adamantia's lips, like searing brands, seared a path down Ahmanet's neck, each kiss a burning testament to their insatiable desire.
Ahmanet's response was primal, a wordless cry of ecstasy as she surrendered to the maelstrom of pleasure. "Adamantia," she moaned, her voice trembling with need, "Yes, fuck." Already her own thigh was lodged between Adamantia's legs, rubbing against her.
Adamantia's touch between Ahmanet's legs was deliberate and electrifying. Her fingers, warm and knowing, teased and caressed, fingertips dancing over sensitive skin, sending tremors through Ahmanet's body. Her fingertips moved in slow, deliberate circles, each motion designed to elicit a deeper and more intense response.
Ahmanet's breath caught in her throat, her body arching in response to the electrifying sensations, an exquisite torment that left Ahmanet trembling with desire. For per part, Adamantia let a low moan escape her lips as she felt her lover's thigh grinding against her own wet warmth.
They lost themselves in a sea of touch, taste, and sound, every caress amplifying the electrifying sensation of being truly, deeply known. And for that moment, lost in the intoxicating symphony of each other, they felt an ecstasy that was both of the body and beyond it—euphoria.
"Fuck I'm going to—" Ahmanet moaned.
"Me too," Adamantia said, her eyes shut as she grinded against Ahmanet's thigh. "Fuck, I need you."
"Keep going," Ahmanet begged, her eyes rolling back.
Then, almost as if they had timed it, they came in a rolling crescendo, their bodies pressed desperately, hungrily together, their legs shaking as they came to orgasm.
Now, in the afterglow of their intimacy, they lay entwined, two beings bound by something stronger than destiny—a love that could defy the gods themselves.
"That was good," Adamantia finally said.
Ahmanet smirked without reply. Instead, with a hand lightly holding Adamantia's throat, she kissed her and climbed on top.
"Want to go again?" she asked huskily.
They kissed again, and then there was nothing but the sensation of skin against skin, the intoxicating scent of desire in the air, and a relentless, unyielding desire.