The Cost

The Underworld was a realm seldom visited by the gods of Olympus, especially not by those as radiant as Apollo. Yet, this day saw Apollo descend from the sunlit skies, venturing past the gloom-shrouded River Styx and into the somber heart of the Underworld.

Hades' kingdom was as vast as it was mysterious. Its red-baked dirt and gray skies were a far cry from the lively terrains of Gaia's realm and the beautiful heavens that sheltered it. As Apollo moved deeper into this forsaken realm, his thin form was dimmed, shrouded by an enveloping darkness. The shimmering golden glow of his hair seemed muted; the light bestowed upon him by his solar purview was doused by the ancient shadows that loomed all around. The air was thick with an eerie stillness, pierced only by the faint lamentations of distant souls and the cold whispers of forgotten ghosts.

Apollo's uncertainty was palpable in this land where the sun's powers were diminished. What passed for light in this forsaken realm was given by eerie lantern rocks, glowing lichen on the black bark of Underworld trees, and the red lightning that crackled amidst the ashen clouds overhead. Each step the god took was hesitant, the weight of his purpose pressing heavily upon his shoulders. Apollo did not simply wander into the Underworld out of mere curiosity. He sought out a deity most elusive, even among the gods: Hecate, the goddess of witchcraft, magic, and the night.

Although a deity of the night, Hecate was neither malevolent nor a being of pure darkness. In her, the mysteries of the cosmos converged, making her a being of immense power and knowledge. She was known to frequent the world's crossroads, and her abode in the Underworld was said to be at the junction of its many pathways.

Following the tales he had heard, Apollo arrived at an ancient stone temple, somewhat resembling a cave, covered in creeping vines and illuminated by the soft, silvery glow of countless moonstones. Two torches, burning with a cold blue flame on either side of a gap in the stonework, marked the entrance.

Daring to venture inside, Apollo found his cousin, the dreaded goddess Hecate. Far from the monstrous tales spoken of her, Hecate was a vision. Olive-skinned, with cascading dark hair that seemed to hold the night and violet eyes that glinted mysteriously in the ambient gloom. Her robes, a blend of dark grays and deep blacks, seemed contemporary, showcasing her slender legs with a grace that belied her age as one of the ancients. And in a display of audacious allure, one of her breasts remained unveiled, an aspect that Apollo's gaze inadvertently and repeatedly fell upon.

In contrast, Apollo's attire was modest: a simple white cloth wrapped around his waist, humble sandals that echoed the earth, a yellow scarf, and an odd yet popular accessory among mortals—a sort of wide-brimmed straw hat called a petasos.

"Apollo," Hecate's voice echoed, though she did not direct her eyes toward Apollo's entrance. "Bringer of Light and Song, what brings you to my shadowed realm?"

Apollo's voice, usually firm and melodic, quivered slightly with desperation, "Hecate, I face a challenge that neither prophecy nor sunlight can unravel. I seek your, uh... unconventional wisdom."

The goddess of witchcraft studied him for a moment, her violet eyes shimmering with curiosity and noticing his discomfort and desperation. "Then speak, Sun God, and let us see if the answers you seek can be found in the night's embrace."

The meeting of light and shadows had begun.

Apollo paced uneasily, glancing around the dimly lit space, his eyes avoiding Hecate's gaze as well as her unveiled breast. It wasn't like him to be so hesitant, yet here he was, fumbling for words in the presence of the enigmatic moon goddess.

Hecate's lilting laugh broke through his thoughts, "Apollo, you are more restless than a mortal lover trying to pen his first poem. Sit. Perhaps some food and drink will calm your spirit."

The goddess moved gracefully to a side table, gesturing for Apollo to sit on a dark stone bench under the glowing moonstone lanterns built into the architecture of her abode. With a gesture of her hand, bowls and goblets appeared, and a rich aroma began to fill the space.

Intrigued, Apollo couldn't help but ask as he took his seat on the bench, "Not sure I've dined in the Underworld before. What do the souls of the dead eat?"

Hecate smiled, "They consume memories and nostalgia, though it's a diet you would find unpalatable. For my guests of flesh and ichor, however, I offer something more… tangible."

She began slicing a delicate cheese. Its rich scent indicated it had been made with Ambrosia. It was creamy and aromatic. With the first slice, Apollo helped himself to a quick sampling. Its texture was light and airy, a taste, unlike any other Ambrosiac cheeses he had sampled before. He understood this must have been a type of Stygian cheese he had yet to taste.

Hecate poured a golden liquid into a goblet. Its scent was unmistakable. It was Nektar-treated mead to accompany the cheese. Apollo's divine sense could almost taste it by the smell alone. It was honeyed, aromatic, and perfectly sweet.

The goddess offered her cousin a slice of bread smeared with the ambrosia-laden cheese and the goblet filled with Nektar. "Taste. You'll find it rejuvenating... and more at ease."

Slowly breaking his defensive posture, Apollo took a sip of the golden drink. The flavor, imbued with celestial honey's sweet, intoxicating essence, coursed through him, momentarily distracting him from his troubles.

He hesitated, then asked, "Do you always dwell in such darkness, Hecate? Do you not miss the splendor of the sky, the warmth of the sun, or the open expanse of the world?"

She looked thoughtful. "Darkness and light are merely two sides of the same coin. Just as your music brings joy to hearts in the daytime, my mysteries guide lost souls through the night. But tell me, Apollo, why all these questions? Is this not merely a diversion from what truly weighs on your mind?"

With a sigh, Apollo took a bite of the ambrosia-infused cheese, its divine richness grounding him. "It is not easy to admit that one is lost, especially when one is accustomed to illuminating the paths of others."

Observing him with her keen violet eyes, Hecate responded with soft laughter, "Every god, no matter how powerful, has moments of vulnerability. It's a secret we often hide from mortals. But you're among kin here. Whenever you're ready, share your tale."

Apollo nodded, finding comfort in her words. He knew he would eventually divulge his problem. Still, for now, he enjoyed the respite Hecate offered in this sanctuary among her shadowed realm. There was a strange beauty here, though Apollo still longed to return home and feel the sun's warmth on his skin.

Hecate's laughter from earlier seemed to hang in the air like a spell, intoxicating and entrancing. As Apollo continued to taste the food, he felt a soft touch on his arm. Glancing to his side, he found Hecate now seated beside him. Her proximity, combined with the dimly lit atmosphere of her abode, left him feeling a warmth that wasn't just from the Nektar.

Every movement Hecate made seemed deliberate. When she reached for a piece of the ambrosia-laden bread, her fingers lightly grazed Apollo's. When she sipped from the goblet, her eyes never left his. Even in the subtle tilting of her head, there was an unspoken tease, a challenge.

"Enjoying the repast, cousin?" she inquired, her voice dripping with honeyed mischief.

Not easily flustered, Apollo replied, "It is... unique, as is everything in your realm. Should I speak plainly, dear cousin, I did not expect such hospitality."

She leaned in, her breath warm against his neck. "Expect the unexpected with me, dear Apollo."

Though words of flirtation didn't escape her lips, her every move conveyed a different message. She would inch closer, her knee brushing against the god's own, then pull away slightly, ensuring Apollo remained ensnared in her game of allure.

Feeling the tension, Apollo finally blurted, "You already know why I'm here, don't you?"

Hecate feigned innocence, her eyebrows arching in surprise. "Do I? You give me more credit than I deserve. Perhaps my mysteries have made you paranoid?"

He narrowed his eyes, suspicion evident. "Then why the theatrics? Why try to seduce me?"

Her cackle echoed through the cavern, an eerie and enticing sound. "Oh, Apollo! Always so certain, are you? Perhaps I just enjoy the company of a handsome god in my domain? But, pray tell, why have you ventured into the depths?"

Before answering, Apollo gulped down the remainder of his Nektar, holding out his goblet. "Another, if you please."

Hecate, with a smirk, obliged, filling his cup once again. The dance between them had only just begun.

Hecate's lair was a tableau of the old and the new, life and the realm beyond. As Hecate moved to refill his drink, Apollo's eyes wandered, searching for a sign of another occupant residing in the structure. "Where is your daughter?" he inquired, a touch of curiosity in his voice.

Hecate giggled, her laughter reminiscent of the soft tinkle of chimes in the breeze. "Eleusis? She rarely graces me with her presence these days. My daughter is often... elsewhere."

Apollo nodded. His niece Eleusis was quite the enigmatic goddess, the offspring of Hecate and Hermes. The story of her conception was whispered among the gods, a testament to Hecate's power to enthrall even the most elusive of their kind.

As if catching the drift of his thoughts, Hecate, while pouring the honeyed liquid, teased, "Let me guess, Hermes sent you to me, didn't he?"

Apollo hesitated, visibly irked at the idea of seeking counsel from his younger brother. "Why would you think that?"

Hecate's grin widened, mischief glinting in her violet eyes. "When an Olympian knocks on my door, it is often Hermes that has pointed them my way. Especially if their problems are... unconventional," Hecate said with a sinister smirk. "Plus, you asking about the daughter I conceived with Hermes seems to indicate you're thinking about the payment I will ask for my help..."

Apollo frowned and sighed, "It's not easy to admit that I had to turn to my younger brother for guidance."

Hecate settled beside him once again, her warmth enticingly close. Holding his refilled goblet tantalizingly out of reach, she whispered, "No shame in that. Hermes may be young, but he possesses wisdom many overlook."

Apollo eyed her, sensing another layer to her words, "You seem quite fond of Hermes. Cousin," Apollo said, pausing for a moment, "do you love my brother?"

Her chuckle was throaty and low. "Hermes has his charms," she said with a nod. "Who can resist a son of Zeus?" She extended the goblet towards him, but not quite far enough, her challenge clear. "But love him? No... I do not give heart to others so easy as that, cousin."

Apollo sighed, the weight of his predicament momentarily pressing down on him. He inched closer, determined to reclaim his drink and perhaps, in the process, find the answers he so desperately sought. The game that followed between them was a playful dance, one of challenge and chase. As Apollo finally grasped the goblet, he drained half its contents in a single go, quenching a thirst that was more than just physical.

However, Hecate deftly took the goblet from him, her fingers brushing his, making him pause momentarily. "Easy there, cousin," she murmured, her voice taking on a sultry note as she sipped the Nektar herself. "I'll decide when you can have more," she teased, holding the goblet just out of his reach. "But not until you share your burden."

Apollo sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slumping. He began pacing the room, each step a testament to his inner turmoil. The air seemed to grow thick with tension, his anxiety palpable. Finally, he stopped, his voice quivering as he confessed, "I... I have feelings for Artemis."

Hecate looked up, her violet eyes piercing into Apollo's. "I've seen it," she said softly. "The way you two are together, so close, mirroring each other in every move, every gesture. It's to be expected, honestly. You're twins, after all."

Apollo's expression grew more troubled. "It's not just the bond of siblings. It's... deeper. Romantic." Apollo shifted uncomfortably, looking away for a moment. His voice, often so assured and assertive, took on a vulnerability seldom witnessed. "It's not just a fleeting fancy, Hecate. There's so much about her that pulls me in."

"Tell me," she beckoned.

He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing, "You've seen Artemis, haven't you? The way she moves with such confidence, with a purpose. She's fiercely independent, unyielding even. And I... I admire that about her. It's captivating."

Hecate watched him closely, noting the genuine emotion in his eyes.

Apollo's gaze seemed to look past the walls of Hecate's abode, lost in memories, "Then there's her commitment to what we stand for. Our shared causes. The way she protects the innocent, the way she stands up against any injustice. It's not just her duty; it's her very essence. And that passion... it ignites something deep within me."

Drawing a breath, he chuckled softly, the sound bittersweet. "And her laugh... have you ever heard it, cousin?"

Hecate shook her head. "No. I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of hearing Artemis laugh... From a distance, I've seen her laughing in the company of you or Hermes, but... usually, she's so... stoic."

Apollo sighed and nodded. "Well, it's like a delicate melody that finds its way into my soul, making even the darkest days seem brighter."
The weight of his confession hung in the air, the rawness of his emotions evident in every word. It was a rare insight into the depth of Apollo's feelings, painting a portrait of a god torn between love and the complications of divinity.

Hecate nodded understandingly. "Such feelings are not easy to bear, especially when they're so... unconventional." She refilled his goblet, handing it back to him with a soft smile. "Here. You've earned it."

As Apollo sipped, he let the sensation of Nektar distract his racing mind for a moment.

Hecate moved to a nearby shelf, her hands dancing over vials, herbs, and crystals, each a testament to her mastery over potions and spells. "Are you asking me to help you forget these feelings?" she inquired.

Apollo nodded slowly. "Can you?"

Hecate paused, contemplating the gravity of the request. "There's always a price, Apollo. But yes, I can help. However, erasing feelings isn't simple. It's more about learning to manage and redirect them. Do you trust me?"

Apollo met her gaze, uncertainty warring with desperation in his eyes. "I do."

As she began her work, Hecate's dwelling was suffused with a unique energy. Taking a black cauldron, she started adding ingredients one by one. A pinch of crushed bone, a few drops of essence from some Stygian fruit's core, petals of the moonlit bloom, and a single drop of Ambrosia from her uncovered breast. She whispered incantations over the mixture, her hands moving in intricate patterns, weaving a tapestry of magic in the air. The room's temperature shifted with every ingredient, going from a chilling cold to a sweltering heat.

Apollo's attention was riveted to her actions and the exposed breast with a residue of Ambrosia clinging to the nipple. The ritual was both fascinating and otherworldly. He took a sip of his Nektar every so often, relishing its sweetness. But as he watched, memories of Artemis and the lovers he had been with in his attempts to forget her came flooding back, each image a poignant reminder of his emotional tumult.

As Hecate sensed the potion nearing its completion, she glanced at Apollo, her gaze sharp. "Don't finish that Nektar," she warned. "You'll want its sweetness after you taste this potion. It has a bitterness that clings."

Apollo paused, glancing into his goblet. "Understood," he replied quietly, staring at the remaining Nektar and already feeling more thirsty than before. It was always tricky for the god to refrain from what he was told he could not partake.

Hecate continued her ritual, her voice melodic as she chanted. "It's not unheard of, you know," she began without looking up from her work. "Mortal kings have taken their sisters as queens. Commoners have married within their families. There's a shared understanding, a bond."

Apollo frowned, "My father would not understand..."

Hecate smirked, "Are you so certain? His queen, Hera, is his sister."

"Only in spirit," Apollo reminded her. "Not unlike our mothers... Leto and Asteria are only siblings in spirit, exalted by the elder gods. The same goes for Hera and Zeus. There is no shared ichor in their marriage."

"Still," Hecate continued, "you and Artemis are truly two of a kind. You were made from the same instant of passion. You share more than ichor, do you not? You two share a soul? You are true soulmates. It's poetic... Are you certain you seek to deny this?"

Apollo shifted uncomfortably. "It's different. It's... complicated."

Hecate looked directly into his eyes. "Love often is, Apollo... especially when its love shared between soulmates. Still, though, there's nothing purer than a bond shared at the very core of one's being."

Apollo's gaze grew distant, memories flooding in.

The forest was bathed in the waning light of the day, each leaf glistening with a gentle, golden glow. Birds chirped in the distance, a serene background to the rare, quiet moment between the twins. Artemis and Apollo, having given chase to many a prey that day, took a moment to rest beneath a grand oak tree, its sturdy branches providing a comforting shade. In their moment of respite, Apollo leaned against the trunk, strumming his lyre absentmindedly, while Artemis sat with her back to the tree, long legs stretched out before her.

Apollo, fingers dancing over the strings of his lyre, played a soft tune, each note seeming to float into the air. Artemis leaned against the tree, her silver bow resting beside her, her sharp eyes following a butterfly as it danced from flower to flower. The peace was palpable.

Artemis then turned her attention to her brother, her brow slightly furrowed. "You've seemed distracted today," she began, a teasing lilt in her voice.

"Do I?" he asked with a hollow, vacant tone.

"I've never seen you miss a shot on a stag that was practically posing for you. And that melody, I've heard you play better with your toes..." she said softly, pointing out the discordant tones from his plucked strings.

Caught off guard, Apollo could only manage a weak smile, "I guess the hunt wore me out more than I expected."

Not convinced, Artemis scooted closer, her playful demeanor evident. "Or perhaps there's something—or someone—else on your mind? Have the nymphs been distracting you during our hunts?"

He glanced her way, a rosy blush betraying his feelings. "Of course not," he stammered, the fluster evident. "Why would you even think that?"

Artemis, with a knowing smile, tilted her head slightly, her silvery locks falling gracefully over her shoulder. "You forget, dear brother, that we've always been more connected than most. I can sense when something's amiss. Something's been troubling you."

Apollo took a deep breath, his fingers pausing on the lyre. The weight of his feelings made the air around him seem heavy. "It's nothing, really," he mumbled, looking everywhere but into her probing eyes.

She smirked, tapping a finger against his lyre, causing another discordant note to break the silence. "Well, whoever it is," she teased, "they deserve a better love ballad then this."

Apollo scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Letting her brother squirm for a moment, Artemis' expression softened. She touched his shoulder reassuringly. "Whatever it is, know that I'm here for you, brother... Always."

His eyes met hers; gratitude was evident in his gaze, but still, his secret remained locked away, too raw to be revealed.

Apollo blinked as the memory faded, Hecate's voice pulling him back to the present. "Are you certain about this?" she asked, concern in her eyes.

Apollo shook his head, casting the memories from his mind. The weight of his emotions was weighing on his face. Then, after he regained his composure, he gave the witch a firm nod.

Hecate sighed softly, pouring the concoction into a crudely shaped glass vial. The liquid was a deep shade of violet, shimmering with an inner light. "Very well then," she murmured, handing it to Apollo. "Take this when you are ready. But remember, it might fade the feelings, but it won't erase the memories. You will still have the temptation, the desire... but it will be muted unless you don't let it stay buried. And, there's no promises with this, especially if this unwanted affliction of yours is less... one-sided." "What do you mean?" "Are you certain she does not feel as you do?"

Apollo hesitated, eyeing the potion warily. He turned the vial over in his hand, watching the play of light as it refracted through the liquid. "I- I don't- No... It's impossible. She couldn't... Artemis has little love for anyone... She has sworn never to marry," he declared, then paused. "Is there no other way?" he finally asked, his voice betraying a hint of desperation. "Is there not something more... permanent?"

Hecate leaned back, her eyes studying him. "The heart is a complicated thing, Apollo. There's no easy fix, no magic spell that can simply... dispel what you feel. This potion will only help you manage it better. Still, the choice is yours. You can still choose not to drink."

With a deep breath, Apollo nodded, finding some form of resolve. "No," he stated, uncorking the vial. "I have come this far..."

The bitter potion seemed to scorch its path down Apollo's throat, its virulence evident even after he gulped down the sweet Nektar. Eyes watering, he gagged and coughed, doubling over slightly. Hecate watched, a glint of mischief in her violet eyes, clearly amused by his reaction.

The room seemed to tilt and warp around Apollo as the potion took hold, a whirlpool of colors and memories. Hecate's voice, sounding far away yet right beside him, explained, "This potion will help dull the intensity of your feelings, create a barrier. It will take a few cycles of the moon to set, and you'll need time to adjust."

Apollo's vision blurred, his voice coming out weak, "If it helps... even a little... it'll be worth it."

As the world stabilized, Apollo's gaze landed on Hecate. The once-familiar surroundings had taken on an otherworldly, ethereal quality as if he was viewing everything through a gossamer veil. He swallowed, voice more firm, "Thank you, Hecate... Now, about your payment. What is it that you will ask in return?"

Hecate's smile was enigmatic as she gracefully shed her robes, her beauty leaving no room for doubt about her divine origins. She approached Apollo, her voice dripping with seduction. "As I said earlier, who could resist a son of Zeus?"

With that, their lips met, a mix of need, gratitude, and curiosity. As the intensity built, Apollo felt himself being pulled under a spell once more, this time of a different kind. And just as they succumbed entirely to the world of sensations around them, Hecate whispered words that seemed to both promise and demand, "You must be wholly mine tonight. That is my cost..."

With a final nod of agreement, Apollo surrendered, letting go of his reservations and fears. The world faded around them, as two gods merged in a dance as old as time itself.

## Characters

### Gods

* Apollo
* Hecate