I’ve dabbled in the treacherous inferno trying to find this connection. Mortals are more willing, but they succumb to their humanity while I remain behind. When you stand too close to the fire, you get burnt. I’ve longed for the other side so often my being is a blackened piece of charcoal.
I stop reading, frowning at the one name that is scratched out. Like they didn’t want her to be remembered. I scratch at the paper before it hits me. A flood of images pour into my mind all at once. A man with curly blonde hair. Twins. A young girl with blonde hair that looks a lot like the man. These images smash around my brain, blood dripping from my nose.
I have taken some other food as well, for it is not the done thing to simply have a large plate of bacon. It is better to have other food, even if it is to remain uneaten. Choosing only one foodstuff and consuming it to the exclusion of all else makes people uncomfortable. In my thousands of years among the mortals, I have mastered some small points such as this.
So many questions ran through my head. The number one being, how did Melisseus always know when my guard was down? Was there a mole within Olympus? Perhaps one of the many Titans that no longer resided in Tartarus? Every god in Olympus was a gossip.
All that show did was drive a larger wedge between us. At least now I know who truly cares for me, even if I feel used for it. It is and always has been the mischief family I had made.
