Page 5 of Immortal Sun (Dark Olympus)

CHAPTER 5

CYRUS

“Myths are public dreams, dreams are private myths.” —Joseph Campbell

I knew Apep would be watching my entire exchange at the bar with her, I saw it in my mind’s eye just as clear as the world around me. The rocks moaned each time the water of the Puget Sound purposefully slammed against them, massaging them back into the earth where they belong as if to remind them who the true ruler is. The Creator doesn’t mess around and every immortal beneath them has felt their wrath.

I lay in my bed, hating to admit to all the wicked thoughts swirling around in my head as I stare up at the same ceiling that I’ve had for too many years to even count.

“If only she wasn’t the last one,” I whisper. “And then…”

I don’t say it.

To say it means I’m actually entertaining it. I never panic and yet when I saw her blood I was reminded that I would be the one to take it from her body in whole.

Despite what falling meant, I finally ask the question: but what about me?

What happens to the world when she’s no longer in it? What happens when I’ve met my goal in leaving everything behind?

I feel the temptation approaching already. I feel what he, the chaos feels. I burn for more, I burn for destruction, death, for the darkness of Chaos to finally swallow me whole and allow me to embrace time the way it’s meant to be. I’m meant for the sky not the earth it oversees. Chaos could give me my final rest.

My ribs start to hurt on my right side, I press a palm down against the skin, adding pressure, wondering why it’s happening so quickly.

I want to blame the constant insomnia, but I know it’s because she’s close, because the eclipse is close, and because I’ve been running out of time for a while.

With a curse, I get out of bed, shove my feet into my brown loafers and walk, shirtless, out of my bedroom. My black silk pajama bottoms are cold against my thighs as I make my way through the ancient mansion.

I ignore the memories that whisper to me in the darkness, that beckon me to give more when I’ve done nothing but give everything—including my own body.

I stop at the door, the very door that could take me to the bar—to her.

I tell myself I don’t know why—but I do. I know it’s completely out of guilt of what’s to come, of her easy smile and excitement over something she tragically knows little about.

I touch the door then bring my hand back and clench my fingers into a tight fist.

This isn’t the time to suddenly develop a conscience. I go into the kitchen and grab a glass of wine, even though it’s late. My footsteps are near silent.

Everyone’s in bed. The night air feels good against my skin. The universe is still angry, it feels the unrest; then again, when isn’t it? The calm always arrives before the storm, waiting.

“Ken.” I nod toward the sea and lift my wine.

A wave comes up against the shore. I can’t help my laugh. “It’s actually a simple red blend, but your jealousy is noted.”

Another splash.

“Last time you had wine I had a shit ton of work to do.” I roll my eyes. “And I don’t think the world is ready for that again. The number of earthquakes alone was daunting.”

I swear I hear that damn thing curse.

Smiling, I look up at the giant tree placed in the lawn next to all the normal looking rocks from the cliffs. Everything is aging and growing with me. I tell myself I won’t miss the trees or the forest, that I burn for something else. I lie to myself often these days.

“Old friend,” I whisper and pat the grass next to me while Rat scurries down. “How are the stars tonight?” I blame my conversation with Anubis. “Have any of them chosen to fall?”

Rat sets the nut down and scurries away. I tilt back the glass of wine and shake my head. That’s what I thought. Nothing. There’s nothing anymore for me here. There is no worship, no magic, no communication between humanity and the immortals unless you’re stuck here. It will be as if I never existed, soon people will forget about me and simply stare at the sun and marvel at how it came into being knowing it’s missing the biggest part—the one who created it.

I hang my head. I’m talking to myself, because if I talked to Inti or any of my other friends they’d just tell me one bit of advice.

Do your job because you think you have no choice.

Or, stay with us.

Fall.

From the sky?

From my very existence? And for what? The last one? A woman I barely know?

Ridiculous.

I have one dark purpose which is the only way to be brought into the light.

People wonder how long the world has been broken. All they need to do is take a look into my eyes and see the darkness—watch the world burn, die. Humanity is so fickle. Maybe that’s why we have the challenge set upon us, to understand true suffering so we appreciate our true power.

I finish my wine and watch the sunrise hours later. Staff start to move around the large property, none of them at all surprised that I’m sitting at the base of the tree.

Cleo has two days to explore before it begins.

I watch the sunrise and find myself saying, “I miss it.”

God of the Sun, trapped.

Until I end it.

Until I spill her blood.

Worth it.