Fall of Apollo part 2

Zeus wasn’t gracious enough to let him simply arrive on earth, standing. He added insult to injury when he was dropped onto the grassy field, at least 7 feet, making the air almost get knocked out of his chest.

Air he actually needs now.

He coughed, a plum of dust that came up around him when he fell, turning over and groaning but thousands of questions bubbled in his head.

Where am I supposed to live?

How do find shelter?

Fuck, do I need money? How do I get money?

How much food do I need?

Will my followers be ok?

Will I die if I’m sick enough? Would Zeus let that happen?

Will I cease to exist if I die in this form?

He was sitting up straighter now, anxiety starting to thrum through his blood like an angry river, his heart feeling like it may beat out of his chest. It’s never beat like this before; like it was a caged animal, ready to break out of its cage at any moment.

Fearfully he brought his hands to his chest, breathing picking up, nearly hyperventilating with the need to keep his heart safe and not burst out of his chest.

Suddenly a voice called from the distance, he couldn’t hear it, not with blood pumping in his ears. The voice came closer and closer until they were in front of him. “Hey, young man, are you ok? What are you doing out here?”

Apollo looked around frantically, still struggling to get his breathing under control. “Where am I?”

The farmer looked, eyebrows pinched in confusion as he stared at Apollo, kneeling down to him. “You’re in some rough shape. Why don’t we get you out of the sun, get some water in ya.” He started to help him up, Apollo let him, terrified though, wondering what the farmer's intentions were, his new body feeling suddenly so vulnerable and fragile.

He was led into a modest house, Apollo saw what he assumed to be his wife and daughter in the field, tending to grapes to make into wine.

He’s on a vineyard; Dionysus would be so jealous right now. The thought calmed him, just a bit, thinking of his friend as the farmer led him to their kitchen and gently being forced to sit down. “I’ll get you some water, stay right there.”

Apollo just watched as the farmer left behind a door, walking down some stairs.

Wait, he probably can’t go by his actual name, can he? No, he needs a new name. What though?

He had one name come to mind and when the farmer came back from the basement, jug of water in hand, Apollo blurted it out. “Phoebus.”

The farmer looked confused. Apollo corrected. “My name. It’s Phoebus.”

The farmer nodded with a smile, coming over and handing him the water. “Georgios.” The farmer stated with a smile.

Apollo gave a grateful nod before taking the most satisfying drink of water he’d ever had; was water always this good?

Georgios just watched with curiosity. “So what happened out there? Where you from?”

Apollo could only pretend to forget, Zeus having given him zero time to plan anything let alone a name. “I’m not sure myself,” He decided to try to make up a story, he just needed something. “My memories are all fractured and jumbled, I can’t remember much. I must have blacked out 'cause I just remember waking up in your field.”

Georgios looked concerned, walking closer and starting to have a better look at his head. “Hit your head?”

Apollo just went with it. “I must have, but I don’t remember it.”

Georgios brought his calloused fingers to Apollo's blonde waves, inspecting more closely, moving his head this way and that, making Apollo tense and waiting for something to happen. “Well, there’s no mark or bruising.” He moved his hands away. “Have a home?”

Apollo swallowed the grief that was building up. He did, he was just thrown out of it. “I don’t know.” He said quietly, taking another drink of water to push down the lump he felt in his throat.

Georgios let out a breath. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here, as long as you need to.”

Apollo looked up at him, misty-eyed and confused. “But you don’t know me.”

“No, but I know you need help.”

Apollo looked away. “You’re far too generous. What if I’m a thief or killer?”

The farmer smiled softly. “Well then I misjudged you and that’s on me. I’ve recently gotten a new lease on life and I intend to help people, selflessly and without judgment, just as he helped me, in his name.”

Apollo felt like he already knew. “Who helped you?”

“Asclepius. I was dead, I met Hades himself, Thanatos came for me but that man managed to bring me back. It made me realize I took my days for granted, every day blurring into another. The only good thing about my days was my wife and daughter. Of course, I loved them before, but now? Now it feels as they’re deities themselves in my mind. I never gave enough to the gods before, felt I didn’t have enough worth for them. But now, Dionysus has blessed me with a wonderful harvest, helped me see the beauty in every day, and taught me to have fun; we only have one life, and I shall live it to its fullest.”

“When did this man die?” Apollo asked, his voice quiet, fearful if he spoke louder his emotions would show.

“Yesterday, a thunderstorm rolled in, he was in the fields helping with the harvest with another family when a bolt of lightning came down and took him. It was as if Zeus himself had a personal grudge against him. But we decided to build a memorial for him, to remember him and how much he’s helped us.”

“Where is it being built?”

“On the outskirts of our village, just before entering the city. It’s just about done, there’ll be a funeral service for him tomorrow night.”

Suddenly his wife and daughter walked in, smiles and sunburn gracing their faces. The wife spoke, still happily smiling as she walked in. “Ah, who is this, love?” She asked, getting a loaf of bread that was resting under some fabric, protecting it from any bugs that may ruin it as she started to slice it for a midday meal.

Georgios walked over, to her, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “He’s a guest, he’s going to be staying with us. His name is Phoebus.” As he spoke, his young daughter was looking at Apollo with curiosity but it felt as though she were staring into his soul, that she knew who he was.

The wife turned, smiling. “Hello and welcome to our home. I’m Kasandra, this is my daughter-Maria, stop staring at our guest, it’s rude to stare.”

Maria looked away, going to her mother. “Who is he mama?” Kasandra sighed. “Why don’t you ask him?”

Maria looked shy all of a sudden but walked closer and asked “Who are you?”

“I’m Apo-Phoebus, my name is Phoebus.”

He quickly corrected himself.

She smiled weakly. “My name is Maria, I just turned five years old, mama says I’m still her baby but I’m a big girl now, I’m old enough to attend school.”

Apollo smiled, playing along with her. “Wow, you are a big girl now, school is very important.” He noticed how sunburned her face was, the red bleeding into her chest and shoulders.

He frowned. “Does that sunburn hurt?” Maria just touched her face gently, leaving a little white mark before turning red again. “Sometimes.”

Apollo looked up at Georgios and Kasandra, seeing the same sunburn gracing their skin. He latched onto it, that’s something he could focus on while he figured out how to live. “Do you have any Aloe Vera?”

Kassandra frowned. “Unfortunately we ran out a few days ago. We’ve had to wait for payday to restock.”

Apollo thought quickly. “What of Lavender or Chamomile?”

Kasandra looked surprised. “Yes. I Have some for tea. Maria has nightmares and I use it to help calm her.”

Apollo stood. “Can you gather some for me?”

Kasandra nodded and went to a few cupboards and got her chamomile and lavender jars and handed them to him. He took them and got to work. “ I need a mortar and pestle.”

Maria pointed to the table. “We have one right here.” Apollo grabbed it and looked around. “Do you have olive oil?”

Kasandra reached to the counter and grabbed the bottle for him. “Right here.”

Apollo smiled, grabbing it gently. “Perfect.” He added some olive oil to the stone bowl, adding the lavender and chamomile before starting to grind it into a paste.

He kneeled down to Maria, getting some of the light purple goop on his fingers. “This will help. Stay still.”

With his other hand he held her head still and gently put the mixture on her face.

She giggled. “It feels funny.”

Apollos smiled at her. “Yeah, I bet it does, it’s all goopy.”

“It smells nice though.”

Apollo moved to her chest and shoulders that were exposed and red, putting some on there. “It does and now you’ll smell just as nice but don’t let the bees near you, they might think you’re a flower.”

Maria giggled again. Apollo stood and turned to Kasandra and Georgio “Please, place some on your sunburns, it will aid your skin’s recovery.”

Kasandra smiled, taking the bowl. “Thank you, I didn’t think you were a healer.”

Apollo just shrugged. “I know my way around some healing practices. Also, you may want to wear some sort of hat or covering, it can prevent the sunburn.”

Georgios chuckled as he watched Kasandra put the mixture on herself. “Lost our hats from the thunderstorm yesterday. We should go to town and get some new ones, poor Maria looks red as a pomegranate.”

Kasandra looked worried. “Do we have enough for that?”

“Of course, even the cheapest hats will help prevent that sunburn. We can go now if you’re all up for it.”

Maria jumped for joy around her parents in excitement. Kasandra sighed, stopping her from jumping. “Yes, we can go. But we are only getting the hats.”

“Could we stop at the shrine of Apollo?” Apollo asked carefully.

Georgios just smiled. “Of course! He’s blessing us with this beautiful day, we should honor that and thank him.”

Apollo felt a twinge of guilt hearing that, knowing he was not in control of the sun for the next year. He wonders who’s in charge of his duties now, probably Helios, they tended to share the sun when the other was busy.

The family got ready and he looked down at himself, just to make sure Zeus didn’t leave him with nothing; a white toga, gold scarf, and sandals, exactly what he was wearing when Zeus cursed him.

Good. It’s something, it’s less he’ll have to think about but knowing where he’s going, he feels exposed.

He turned to Kasandra who was helping Maria get her sandals back on, having taken them off when she came inside.

“Do you have a cloak or robe with a hood I could wear? My skin is really sensitive, it burns easily.”

Kasandra nodded, finishing getting her daughter's shoes on before turning to him. “I have just the thing. I’ll be right back.”

Georgio and Maria were already out the door, eager to enjoy the sun.

Kasandra came back with a lightweight but dark covering, complete with a hood.

“Here you go.”

Apollo took it, putting it on, and putting the hood up. “Thank you.

Kasandra smiled. “Ready to go now?”

Apollo just nodded as they both walked out the door.

It wasn’t a very long walk to the city, not with Maria talking about this and that, how school was, she was a chatterbox and it was a welcome distraction to Apollo's thoughts.

They entered the city and Apollo isn’t sure when the last time he was actually here, on the land to explore and experience it.

It was bustling with vendors and horse-drawn buggies, the people chatting and talking creating a buzzing noise that was soothing to him. He followed, not watching where they were heading when they stopped, seeing they were at his temple. Why did he even ask to come here?

He kept his dark hood up, holding it as he entered inside, seeing his believers and worshipers giving various prayers and offerings among the tall white pillars.

He hated this.

Walking among them and to never be able to interact or accept their offerings. He sighed shakily, trying to keep his emotions together when he heard crying.

He looked over and saw a young woman with papyrus paper in hand. He walked over to her, unable to resist wanting to help in some way, even if he couldn’t accept any offering or prayer in this form. He sat down by her. “What’s wrong? I’ve never seen someone so upset at this temple.”

The young women sniffled. “I wrote a poem for Apollo but it’s terrible, it’s unworthy for him, I am unworthy of him.”

Apollo frowned. This was the real curse, he thought. It wasn’t just being human for a year, but being locked away from his believers, his patrons. Unable to help them, guide them, or thank them.

“May I look at it?” He said, reaching out gently. She sighed, wiping her face free of tears. “Go ahead.” She handed it over.

He took it gently, reading it, trying not to smile.

She wasn’t wrong, the poem was definitely not great. But it was hers and hers alone. She sat down and wrote this for him, took time out for her day, and probably spent some good money on the paper and ink.

“Why would you think it unworthy?” He asked carefully.

She shrugged. “I’m just not very good at writing.”

“No one is the first time. You won't be a master poet overnight.”

She looked thoughtfully at the floor. “I suppose even the best started out like this. But I cannot give this to Apollo, he deserves better. I shall write a new one and try to learn.”

Apollo looked at her as he asked “Can I keep this?”

She seemed confused but smiled weakly. “Sure, I was just going throw it away.”

Apollo smiled. “You would throw out this price of art? Blasphemy.”

She chuckled as she sniffled. “It’s shit and you know it.”

Apollo chuckled as well. “Glad to see you’re smiling at least. What’s your name?”

“Chole.”

“I’m Phobeus.”

She stood, brown hair hanging over her shoulder as she stood. “Well, thank you for cheering me up. I should go. I hope to see you around.” Apollo just waved as she left.

He looked down at the poem in his hand and felt his eyes water. He had an offering, some kind of connection to his followers, even if it was just a bad poem, it was everything to him.

He folded it up gently and placed it in one of the robe's pockets before giving a look around for the family he came here with.

He saw them, helping lead Maria in prayer by the statue of him. He walked over, staring at the gold and white statue of himself as he knelt next to Kasandra.

He’s never seen it like this, from this new perceptive, as a human. It was at least ten feet tall, a bow made of gold on its back, and a lyre of sliver in the statue's hand and he looked remarkably similar to the statue, enough that people could gossip about it and think he walked among them.

Which technically yes, he does but without any of his abilities, he can only heal people through his knowledge now, not his godly abilities. It was an odd feeling seeing himself being worshiped, seeing the people who brought their art, played music, and brought various pastries that looked like the sun and not be able to give his profound gratitude.

“Phoebus, are you alright?” Kasandra suddenly asked, a comforting hand on his shoulder. He spoke and was surprised when it cracked with emotion. “Fine.” Then he felt the wetness on his cheeks, bringing a hand and feeling them.

She came closer. “It’s ok to not be ok. But I must ask, what has you so upset?”

Apollos just wiped his face free of tears. “It’s complicated but thank you for asking.” He reached into his pocket of the robe and held the badly written poem.

Kasandra smiled softly. “There’s been times I’ve been emotional at the temple too. Often they were not good tears, often I needed comfort when I discovered I was not pregnant, again and again after trying so often and doing every remedy for fertility. The gods always comforted me. But there were a few times I cried because I was so happy. I was in awe of the deities and how much they love us so unconditionally. Sometimes it doesn’t seem I deserve that, that I’m unworthy-“

“You are never unworthy.” He blurted out, eyes still watery. She smiled weakly. “Thank you for your kind words. It’s the daily struggle of worship for us; feeling so undeserving and unworthy yet if we are not worthy, why do they help us so? Would you like to pray with us?”

Apollo nodded. She held out her hand to him, her other holding her husbands and his holding Maria’s hand. He reached out and held it gently while she tightened her grip, securely around his.

He watched them bow their heads in prayer. He watched and listened, feeling like maybe he could have a prayer in this way.

I call to you, bright Apollo, son of Zeus

and gentle-natured Leto, god whose many gifts

have enriched our lives, skillful maker of music,

crafter of words whose poetic might brings wonder

to the world of men. Shining Apollo, master

of the Muses, inspiration in art and song

is yours to give. I pray to you, O Apollo,

touch my soul with beauty, touch my heart with light,

grant me the vision to transcend the self,

grant me the spirit to share what I see.

Kasandra spoke softly and surely as she led the prayer. He felt his eyes fill again with tears, there was such a complicated amount of emotion going through him, he wasn’t sure what to feel. By the end of the prayer, he sucked in a shaking breath, a quiet sob escaping him. Kasandra acted quickly, embracing him and holding him close, not questioning his emotions, just letting him have them.

Of Zeus's punishments, this was the most cruel.

Back on Mount Olympus Artemis started taking care of her brother's duties immediately, finding someone to fill in.

And she found who would be perfect.

She found Helios in his own domain, meeting with various other deities of the elements and weather, Poseidon and Demeter among them.

Demeter saw Artemis. “Helios, I believe we have a visitor.” He turned, purple robes swishing with the movement as he smiled, a bit worriedly. “Oh, hello Artemis, what do you need?”

“I need to talk to you. It’s not immediately urgent but it’s important.” She said, hands behind her back.

Helios talked to the elemental gods. “Give us a moment.”

He didn’t let them talk or display any displeasure as he went to Artemis, leading her out of the meeting room he had. “What’s going on?”

Artemis softened, her strong appearance gone now that it was just the two of them. “My brother has been punished by Zeus, he is to remain as a human for one year. He has many followers and patrons and I know this is much to ask of you but would you be willing to take over Apollo's duties to his followers while he is away?”

Helios frowned. “Oh my, what’s happened? Why would Zeus curse him like that?”

Artemis glared weakly. “It is Zeus; it does not take much.”

She told him all that’s been going on and he shook his head. “Zeus is just as impulsive as your brother but yes, I will do what I can to help.”

Artemis sighed, relieved his duty would be covered. “Thank you very much. Apollo and I owe you, if you ever need a favor please let us know, I’m sorry for pulling you out of your meeting.”

“Oh it was a boring one anyway, I’m happy to help my fellow Sun Sharer. How are you handling this huntress? I know you are close with your brother.”

Artemis looked away. “It is hard. His domain, it’s so quiet without him. I’ve been watching over what I can for him and it hurts. I miss him.”

“Olympus will be a much more silent place without his music, without him here. Still, I am happy it is just a year and not an eternity.”

“Zeus should just be happy he’s not dead.”

Helios chucked. “Yes, that too.”

Apollo stared out the window, zoning out as he watched the sunset. He stared at the meal on his dinner plate, he wasn’t very hungry, too emotionally exhausted to want to eat.

Kasandra gave him the mom look before huffing. “You need to eat.”

“I’m just not very hungry.” He said, thinking back on all the followers he’s had to help with eating when they didn’t want to because of their depression or stress.

“How about this? You finish off the vegetables and I won’t force you to eat the rest, deal?” She asked as she held her hand out for him to shake.

Apollo smiled weakly, shaking her hand. “Alright. You drive a hard bargain.”

Kasandra just laughed. “It’s a deal I use on Maria all the time. She’s terrible at finishing her plate, always off to do something, never wanting to sit and eat.”

He just chuckled weakly, starting to eat a bit more, now knowing it's necessary to eat, no longer just for pleasure.

He managed to clear most of the plate. Kasandra and Maria cleaned off the dishes in the yard from a big basin of water with Georgio drying them with a towel.

Apollo felt out of place, having no idea what to do, just kinda standing around them. Kasandra with her mother's eye saw this and made a job for him. “Phoebus, would you be able to put the plates away?”

Apollo immediately went to help, Georgio handing him a small pile of clean ones. “Yeah, that’s no problem.”

When that was done, Kassandra was taking Maria to bed when Georgio smiled as he stood by Apollo. “Want to check the wine cellar with me?”

Apollos gave a nod. “Yeah.” He followed him down the cellar he had gone to this past afternoon and got him water.

Once down in the cellar, he noticed how much cooler it was compared to the rest of the house. Apollo smiled, feeling a little bit of home here, thinking of Dionysus.

“So how exactly do you make it? What kinda of wine are you making?”

He spotted an altar to the wine god, with a small marble statue among a few branches of pine sitting among a few leopard furs. Georgio was in the middle of giving a prayer and offering of wine. Apollo frowned. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

The farmer smiled as he stood, turning to Apollo. “It’s alright, I didn’t warn you. Ever since my resurrection Dionysus has been helping me. He’s become my patron. But enough about that, let me show you around.”

Apollo looked around, it was really spacious, and the only heat there was came from the various candles. The farmer showed him to one side of the cellar. “This is where the extracted juices go to become wine. We add many herbs but our wine is a sweet red, we add things like mint into it.”

“How long until they become wine?” He asked, although he knew the answer, he and the wine god often hung out and he ended up learning more than he ever wanted to know about wine; Dionysus could talk for an eternity about wine.

“About two months it will officially be considered wine but it gets its best flavors when it hits six months or even longer. I don’t have the space to keep some for years so I max some out at one year. Over here,” he showed him to the other side of the room of several wine barrels. “Is the wine that’s ready to drink or be sold. Bottling day is coming up soon but as laborious as it is, it’s how me and my family can live, selling it to vendors and temples and individuals.”

“Well, you have an extra hand for that now,” Apollo said as he continued to observe the cool, dark room. Georgios just chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “That I do. Let’s retire to bed, tomorrow we’re harvesting the grapes that are ripe.”

The farmer started to go toward the candles to blow out when Apollo stopped, looking at the Altar. “May I give my prayers first?”

The gamer nodded. “Of course. Want to be alone?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

The farmer just nodded, going to the stairs. “Please put out the candles before you leave.”

“I will.” He saw the farmer go up the stairs and when he believed to be alone. He sighed heavily, kneeling down to the altar for Dionysus, getting the wine bottle, and pouring a little wine into the offing bowl.

“Of all the places Zeus could have dropped me, he sent me to the family my son helped. And that you’re their patron of. Damn Zeus, this was calculated, couldn’t have sent me somewhere completely random where I would see no reminders of my old life. No, he sends me here. At least there’s a little bit of you here, I don’t feel so alone. When you see my son, just…tell him I’m sorry.” He gently tinked the wine bottle to the statue and sighed. “Here’s to you.” He took a sip before placing it back and putting its cover back on.

He stood, going to blow the candles out. The farmer had stood at the top of the stairs, wanting to make sure the candles indeed got put out but that didn’t sound like a prayer, it sounded like a conversation with a friend. Before Phoebus could see him he left, several questions floating around in his head.

Who was he?