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More from ~omicronia

The 'New Dawn' partyThe 'New Dawn' party

A lot of things happened to me and with me during my years in Argos. Most of it will not be a part of this story, because it was mostly about small town plotting, and the way I handled it was similar to that Derianda story  I experienced during my last months at the New Pantheon. Nevertheless I developed a lot as a human being. I got over Neario for instance. It took a while, and he is still a bittersweet memory stored in a golden box in one of the inner chambers of my soul.

Then I found new friends and had some lovers. Nothing sparkling or fantastic, more in the way of being cozy and pleasant. Cheiron and I d
CheironCheiron

Argos was to become the next chapter in my life though. Argos, located on the river banks of Gerdya, was at that time a middle-sized town with about 200 000 inhibitors, and gained its income from textile industries and tourism to the hot spring spas at the northern edge of the town. These springs were connected to the old volcano Diro.

Diro had had an incarnated god warding the town as well as keeping the mountain under control. But he, like so many others, had become a victim of the Titans, and now the mountain looked sad and lonely when you entered the town via the east-bound railway. Like that poor volcano was actually missing it
Hera on the runHera on the run

"But why?" Hestia looked at me with puzzled eyes.
"Because."
"That's not an answer. "
"Something happened. "
"Where? Here at New Pantheon? "
"Yes, here at New Pantheon. "

"Someone did something to you? Said something to you? Hera, you don't have to leave because someone..."
"I did something. A mistake."
"What?"
"Let's just say I screwed up. Big time. And now I have to leave before... Well, there are certain people I don't want to see right now."
"Hera, what happened? What did you..."
"Hestia, I might tell you later. But at the moment I don't care to talk about it. "

"Please, I'm your friend. I wont tell anyone. Pr
Late night mistakeLate Night Mistake

I left Themis with her sour face and her spilled wine and absent-mindedly I walked out in one of the living rooms, where I met Nyx. She was sitting at a table, half-finished dish of ambrosia beside her and tearing through her braided, jetblack hair with restless chocolate-coloured hands while looking at a puzzle of small pieces of paper spread out over the table.

Back in the war the dark-skinned girl had been a trapper and a healer. And because of her ability to see in the dark she was called Queen of the Night. How come war deeds always sound so glamorous in the rear view mirror? Now she has merged her two abilities, the

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June 30, 2009
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Demeter, the way she appears in my story
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