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The day Nicholas was born, he was promised a spot in the sky. It was Fate, the Oracle had spoken, he had to become a star and shine for the entire universe to see. His father, merely a minor deity, had cheered the loudest, for this was a gift from the Gods themselves. Eternal fame and respect for the one who bared his name, half his blood, half his flesh, and yet entirely his as every son is expected to be. 

For his father’s court, there was nothing more certain than destiny, even more so if it was spoken by Destiny itself. Nicholas was raised like the star he was promised to become. His father was a king, which made him a prince, and still it was not enough for Fate, who named him immortal. At one year old, people would bend down in front of him or kiss the floor he took his first steps on. At two years old, millions of eyes were glued to his lips, waiting to hear the first word he would pronounce to chant it like a laud, or whisper it in the intimacy of their chest like a prayer. At five years old, someone shoved a lyre in his hands and the entire kingdom judged him a prodigy. At seven years old, Nicholas was already painted like a hero through the different kingdoms and realms. At ten years old, his first temple was built among the mortals, and his father named that day the happiest of his life.

When Nicholas reached thirteen years old, he broke a vase. It was said that the vase had been gifted to his mother by a higher deity, a real god, who had been charmed by the beautiful melody of her singing, and thanked her with the precious urn. The vase was breathtaking, porcelain pristine white, a constellation of herons with their long beaks flying along its neck. A normal kid would had been scolded, maybe even beat, for breaking such a valuable gift. But Nicholas was a future star, he had a spot in the celestial vault, next to higher Gods and Titans, and no one would — nor could — scold him. 

Seeing his mother tearful, gently gathering the fragile broken pieces of her beloved vase, Nicholas should have felt guilt. The intricate world in which he lived had started to become clearer to his child brain, and instead of remorse for making his mother sad, the vainness of being untouchable no matter what he did made his chest swell with pride. He was more important than the vase, and more important than his mother. 

Nicholas reached fifteen years old, and as he grew, his arrogance grew with him. His father spoiled him rotten, making him pretentious and haughty, disliked in silence because no one dared to enrage the king. The court’s people would pass by him in haste, dreading spending more than a few seconds in his company, and even his mother had started looking at him with more disdain than love. He was allowed everything; from throwing tantrums over the domestics folding his clothes wrong, to pulling his lyre preceptor’s hair as hard as he could every time he was weary and disinterested. The king would close his eyes on his son’s temper and pray harder to the stars, hoping his chants covered the ugliness displayed on his lands by his own blood. 

Childhood feels always too long, but when one is promised eternity, it passes in a blink of an eye. On the day Nicholas turned seventeen, he asked his father to show him the world. The king made him climb the tall mount on which his kingdom was built and showed him the valley below, the world that belonged to him, and would later belong to Nicholas. But Nicholas did not feel satisfied. “I want to see the real world, the rest of it, what is not yours, what is beneath the sky where we stand.” He asked. The king’s face darkened, and seeing the world became the only thing Nicholas was not allowed to do. 

Nature had probably made Nicholas rebellious as soon as he came out of his mother’s womb, but his spoiled childhood and the vow of his glorious spot in the sky made him the more prone to break rules. Once his father turned his back to go down the mountain, Nicholas left for earth, and in a single jump landed perfectly in front of the biggest eyes he had ever seen. 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

Euijoo’s palms dug in the cavity of his eyes, rubbing hard. He tried to convince himself the exhaustion made him see things which were not here, which were not supposed to be here. The rock he was sitting on suddenly felt less steady and he got up on his feet to ground himself in what he hoped was reality. 

“Are you mortal ?”

The deep condescending voice resonated inside Euijoo’s skull and made him jolts, his eyes opened once more. He was here still, in front of him — immovable and tall, backlighted by the sun — where a few seconds ago had only stood the sea and the seagulls. Euijoo took a careful step back. His mother had told him many stories of Gods and Nymphs, and how they would appear in front of mortals to torment or charm them — although for Euijoo, between charm and torment, when it came from a god, it did not feel much different.

“I am. Who am I addressing here, my lord ?” Euijoo’s voice was calm and relaxed, and he could see how it did not please the stranger in front of him. 

To him, this god’s intentions were quite clear; he appeared here to torment, not to charm. Euijoo knew he should have probably felt more scared than he was — anyone with more faith in deities would have been terrified of the encounter. But, for some reason Euijoo was not scared. If anything, he was curious. There had always been a lot of stories about Gods appearing on earth, but actually meeting one was rare to say the least. 

“I am Nicholas. I am a celestial prince, and my father is a king among Gods. I am promised a glorious destiny. Who are you ?” The stranger — Nicholas — replied, and Euijoo could not help but notice how his voice sounded different than mortals. It was louder, laced with stars and thunderstorms, it almost felt suffocating and Nicholas did not seem to notice the strength of his words and how they were pressing against Euijoo’s skin, like trying to pin him down on the ground.  

“My mother named me Euijoo. I am no prince, your Highness, merely a bird keeper. My father owns a dovecote, and my sister and I tend to the birds to help him while he works in the field.” Euijoo surprised himself with how much he told this god about himself, but the intensity of his gaze and the avidity with which he drank his words made him want to say more. Nicholas did not look like he wanted to torment him in the end. Behind the haughtiness in his eyes, Euijoo swore he saw curiosity. Plain thirst for knowledge. “Is this his Highness first time on earth ?” Euijoo carefully asked. 

“Yes, it is. I am not allowed to be here, I do not know how much time I have before my father sees me and comes for me.” Nicholas looked away, suddenly disinterested in the mortal boy in front of him, and he sighed loudly, seemingly deeply bored. “It looks like you have never met a deity before, let alone a prince. You are not the one I wish to speak to. I desire to know everything about your world, and you probably know nothing more than pigeons and doves.”

Euijoo tried not to show the hurt on his face. What was one expecting from a prince, let alone a god ? He felt like a fool for believing a second the young god would have genuinely been interested in what he had to say. He sat back on the rock, adverting his gaze far from the pretentious prince. He almost wanted to show him the way to the nearest palace — in case talking to another prince would have satisfied him — but Nicholas was not even acknowledging him anymore, like suddenly Euijoo had become as insignificant as the dull and grey rock he sat on. He swallowed the impulse to help the god. 

In a few seconds the clear blue sky turned grey and dark, and lightning struck a few centimetres away from the prince’s laced feet. Euijoo held back a scream, hand on his heart beating furiously. He had never seen a god from up close, and lightning even less. He raised his head up to Nicholas’ face, but Nicholas was not here anymore. 

The sky cleared and the only thing left of the god was a corner of burnt grass, where lightning had hit the Earth’s ground to bring him home. 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

Nicholas was grounded. He had turned seventeen just a few days ago, and for the first time in all his years, was grounded. At first, he had believed the usual nagging at his father would free him from his invisible shackles and he could go back to Earth in a matter of days, but after a week of constant pestering, the king still had not changed his mind. Nicholas begged and cried, but nothing worked.

“Why, father ? Why am I not allowed this one thing ?” Nicholas asked, and immediately regretted his defiant tone, dreading what was to come after the look the king darted his way. He stood his ground still, chin lifted even higher. 

The king felt a pang at his chest, this was all his fault. “I have spoiled you too much, my son. You have become too impudent. Earth is not a place for the likes of us, there is nothing down there which can compete with the beauty of the Gods’ kingdom. There is nothing for you there.” He replied, a frown distorting his thick and dark eyebrows. “A greater design awaits you, do not waste your divine time among mortals.” 

“If I am to live for eternity in the sky, I expect to at least know the world better. If I am destined to look at Earth every night, I wish to be able to recognise its trees and rivers, its seas and oceans, its cities and its people. Would I not be a joke of a god if I did not know over what I was ruling ?” Nicholas retorted in a single breathe, the stars of the milky way reflecting in his eager eyes. 

The king’s face grew dark and he turned away from Nicholas. He muttered more for himself than for his son : “Earth will only bring desperation.” Then, louder, still ignoring Nicholas’ burning gaze on him : “You will not go, there is no point in bargaining.” 

Nicholas wanted to argue — to demand a real explanation, the one he felt he deserved — but already his father left the room, turning his back on him. There would not be any more talks about Earth, Nicholas knew it. He left the room right after, rage fuelling his veins. 

On his way out of the palace, Nicholas threw every statues he encountered, hoping for them to smash loudly on the ground. He blew on the trees to make them wither with the venom of his angered breathe. He shrieked and howled at the unlucky domestics strolling around the corridors. He wanted to run to his room, to throw himself on his bed and shout all he could his displeasure. To hurl his table and his chair, and the beautiful wooden cabinet his mother gifted him when he reached six years old, to smash them against the floor of his room — to make the entire palace tremble with his rage. He did none of it. 

The gardens soon emptied, Nicholas had scared everyone away. The only sounds left were the chanting of birds and the panting of his hitched breathe. He screamed once more, as he did not knew of any other way to let out the feeling of frustration heavy on his heart. 

“It is unfair ! I am a god, I should be allowed to do as I please !” He shouted at the sky, like the higher Gods would answer. But the sky stayed silent, for the Gods never cared about unfairness, and Nicholas knew it deep down. 

“It is not unfair, my child.” Nicholas turned around to the voice of his mother, slowly walking to him. “His Majesty is only acting in your best interest. As hard as it might be to believe, it is the truth.” 

Her hair hung free and long, almost reaching the hollow behind her knees, only missing the white dots to mistake it for the night vault. She was a forest nymph and always looked her best in the gardens, surrounded by trees and flowers. A bird sat on her shoulder and she shooed it away gently. There was no gentleness in the look she gave to Nicholas, and the gesture she showed the bird made him feel a ping of jealousy deep beneath the skin of his chest. Her love for him had died years ago, shattered on the ground with the broken vase. 

Nicholas said nothing. She sat on a bench in front of him, covered with deep red peonies and fragrant sage. “I am still your mother. When fathers contradict, mothers heal. There is a way for you to visit Earth without him knowing.” The light from the setting chariot of the Sun got stuck in her hazel eyes and made it shine with a strange fervour.

“Mother, why are you going against father ? Why are you helping me ?” The prince asked, cautious. 

The queen only laughed, and it looked like the trees were laughing with her, the sound making the leaves quiver softly. “The day you were born, the Oracle came to me, not your father. He happened to be in the room next to me, but the Oracle was not here to speak for him. She spoke for me. When the king heard of your destiny, he jumped in joy and left the room to shout at who would hear him of what the Gods planned for you. He did not hear the rest of what the Oracle had to say. I did.” 

The nymph stopped a minute, and her gaze went to her son. Standing tall in front of her, she was reminded of how he was as a kid and a small smile tugged at her lips. He looked at her with curiosity so fierce she could imagine it devouring his stomach. 

“If you demand of me to tell you the entirety of your fate, I will not.” Nicholas frowned at those words. “You have no need to know what the Oracle told me. If it was for you to hear she would have waited until you were of age and whisper it to you herself.” The queen looked down at her laps, where the bird had settled and fell asleep. She grazed lightly its feathers, tenderly, like a mother. “No matter what your father says, there is something waiting for you on Earth, and you must go. Now come, sit next to me. I will tell you how to hide from his Majesty.” 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

The next morning, Euijoo walked the path down to the sea again, not knowing he was about to encounter a god once more. His father’s old age was catching to him and mornings were not the best times to be around the house. Euijoo and his sister had come up with ways through the years to avoid the snappy moods of their father and disappeared every day when the golden chariot would start its ascension in the sky. Euijoo’s sister found solace with the pigeons, in the quiet dovecote, while Euijoo felt more at peace with the seagulls and the salted breeze of the ocean. He had never left his island — looking at the waves crashing against the shore and the horizon far away helped him make up stories about the rest of the world, in the comfort of his own head. 

Euijoo reached the end of the cliff, the ocean vast and infinite below him. He sat on the same rock again, and reached for the few grains he had packed before leaving the house. He threw them at the ocean, for the seagulls to catch. His mother had a hawk, and he used to throw it grains the same way. When his mother died, the hawk disappeared never to be seen again. Euijoo missed his mother and her hawk, the seagulls and the sea reminded him of them. The ocean was made of memories.

He heard a noise — the faint clatter of pebbles being walked on — and turned away from the water to meet the cause of the sound. Nicholas was standing in front of him, not as tall as the last time, not as godly. Something had changed in a few days, but Euijoo did not know exactly what. 

“I did not think you would be back here, your Highness.” Euijoo swallowed the rest of his words, he wanted to get revenge for the way the prince treated him on their first meeting, but he knew better than to anger a god. He settled for a polite question instead. “What about your father, his Majesty ?”

“He does not know of my presence here. I am back disguised as a mortal, my father can not see me from his celestial palace as long as I keep this form.” Nicholas answered. Euijoo heard the way his voice had changed too — less loud, less suffocating. 

“What if his Majesty finds out. Is his Highness not scared of reprimand ?” Euijoo intended for his question to be sardonic, but he had never disobeyed his father, and seeing Nicholas fearlessly going against a god’s interdiction was something he would never do. It was inspiring and his admiration bled through his words. 

“He will not. He can not.” The assurance in the prince’s voice made Euijoo shiver. Even diminished by his mortal costume, his confidence — a kind of assertiveness only a god, a higher one, could show — would not falter. “Euijoo is your name, am I correct, mortal ?” 

Euijoo nodded coyly. The disguise Nicholas wore made him more splendid, more grand. He moved with the ease of someone to whom the entire world had been promised, and maybe it was, but with the flesh and muscles of a mortal man. He was young, but already stunning. Golden locks crowned his head — a gift from the sun himself, Euijoo had thought the first time he saw the god — where Euijoo’s own were brown and flattened by the heat against his forehead. His eyes shined with a thousand stars from the sky, a promise of his destiny, probably. Euijoo noticed he was taller than the prince, but where Nicholas was muscular and confident, he, on the contrary, was spindly and slanted. Unsure of his arms and feet, and every other limbs which grew too fast for him to get used to. Even while trying to be one, the young god was far from the common mortal, his divinity too grand to conceal, and it was hard to ignore. 

“I wish for you to tell me everything you know of your world.” The prince demanded, high and haughty. 

A too hard to contain sneer pulled the up-turned corner of Euijoo’s mouth. “Your highness seemed much assured that I knew nothing more than birds. May I know what caused this change of heart ?” 

“Birds can be a start. You live on this land, I expect you know more than birds too.” Nicholas did not apologise. A god never apologised. 

If the prince noticed the slight shock on Euijoo’s face, he said nothing of it. He did not spare more of his attention than needed to Euijoo, barely looking at him or greeting his presence on the chunk of land they were standing on. He could have been a tree, and Nicholas would have treated him just the same. 

“What does your Highness wish to know ?” His words were bitter no matter how hard he tried to coat them in honey. 

The prince looked behind Euijoo’s shoulder, getting lost in the infinity of the ocean and everything hidden in it. “What bird do you hold dear ?” 

The question sounded sweet, almost quiet, clashing with his earlier vain words, and Euijoo could not hide his perplexity. He deemed himself good at handling his emotions, and even better at schooling his face, but the young god demolished his shield with every of his words. He was unpredictable, one time sweet, three times mean. Euijoo felt threatened. He could hide nothing from the prince, and was too aware of it. 

“My mother had a hawk. They are the dearest to my heart.” He replied finally. He tried to keep his voice steady and his face calm as the sea in the morning. Showing tears to a god could probably lead him to his death. As beautiful as he was, Nicholas was dangerous, and Euijoo wanted to scream it at the ocean until the phrase engraved in his skull as to not forget it. 

“Why ?” The god replied. His voice had changed again, interest peeking through. It sounded softer to Euijoo’s ears, like the morning birds’ chant. He could not get used to the uncertain act of the prince. 

“Hawks were my mother’s favourite birds. In giving me her love, she gave me her adoration for hawks. It is a very reliable sort of bird. Tame it, and it will provide for you. It is incredibly devoted, more than a dog would, and could give its life to help its master.” Euijoo wanted to talk about the way light shone on his mother’s hawk’s feathers, making them gleam like the sun reflecting on the ocean, and how its cries would sound like the most precious melody, but he said nothing more. He could not say more, tears prickling the corners of his eyes. 

“Do not be sad, I can make you a hawk out of thin air if I wished to.” The answer intended to be like the others, prideful and praising his god’s skills, but to Euijoo’s dismay, it warmed his heart. 

“Make me one.” The words escaped his lips before he could think, so fast he did not have time to be polite and show the respect a prince was due. Euijoo held his breathe — scared of the god’s anger, but even more scared of his compliance. 

The prince looked at him with mixed emotions. His pride turned out bigger than his anger and a beautiful hawk flew from the sky. It stopped on the god’s shoulder, big and shiny. Its beige coat spotted with white fluttered with the wind. Euijoo felt the tears rush at his eyes once more. The hawk looked scarily similar to his mother’s hawk, to the point where it made him wonder if the god could read his mind — could rummage through his deepest thoughts to find the loving image of the bird engraved in his memories. 

“It resembles my mother’s.” Was all Euijoo managed to say. Nicholas nodded slightly, with all the grace a prince can display, and the bird left his shoulder to gently enclose Euijoo’s extended wrist. 

“It is for you.” The prince said, high and mighty. “A gift from a god. I expect you to know how to cherish it.” 

“I do not know how to thank you enough, my lord.” Euijoo looked at the bird like it held the entire world, and maybe it did, as it carried in his heart the memories of his dead mother and her own bird. “Will it disappear ?” He asked in a breathe, low and worried, like the bird had become his only reason to live.

The prince had a mocking smirk. “Do not take me for a god of illusions, as I am not one. This bird is real. It will not disappear. It will live and die as a bird do. As long as you cherish it and keep it preciously to yourself, it will stay with you.” 

Euijoo wondered if the bird could have been his mother’s. Who truly knows what the Gods are capable of ? Finding a long lost bird and bringing it back to a mortal seemed an easy task for an all-powerful being. 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

Nicholas coming down to the cliff where they first met and Euijoo sharing his weak knowledge of the world he was living in, became a habit. In exchange, Nicholas told him about his destiny promised as a star, and how life was in his sky palace. Euijoo had no ways of knowing if the young god would come, and would walk up every morning the path to the sea with the hawk on his shoulder and a stone in his stomach. 

The young god scared him, with his high manners and his overflowing credence in himself. He was raised a prince and acted like one, he could not be more different than Euijoo and his simplicity. Euijoo enjoyed the quietness of the waves crashing against the cliff, the taste of salt in the air, the seagulls chanting and his hawk chirping back. Nicholas, on the other side of the sky, would not be contempt without his gigantic palace, his gold, the sound of domestic silently strolling the corridors, and the busy life of his gardens. He was used to greatness and beautiful riches, treasures and magics, nymphs and gods. Euijoo’s favourite spot on the cliff looked dull next to Nicholas’ entire life. If his father forgot about him for a few hours, Euijoo’s day became better, which was probably the only thing he had in common with the young god.

Sometimes, Nicholas would not come, and Euijoo would feel weird. The stone in his stomach would sink deeper, to the point where if he were to jump into the ocean, Euijoo was sure he would drown from the heaviness of his insides. 

The prince was arrogant and proud. Euijoo often wondered if all princes were like him — as he had never met one before — or if Nicholas’ divinity was to blame too for his condescending voice and his haughty behaviour. Euijoo always feared his rage; every and each of his steps and gestures were achieved in a way which he was sure would not vex him. A few times, he misspoke, or tripped and almost fell on the god, but the anger never came. Nicholas was curious about everything, and Euijoo realised the prince did not pay attention to him much more than necessary. He listened to his words attentively, but barely spared him a look. The hawk was his only good deed towards Euijoo, and in the end it was all that it truly was; a good deed from a capricious god. 

Euijoo learned to not fear him anymore, and to ease up when near him. He started strolling next to the god, not behind him. He stopped looking at his back in dread, to look at his face with curiosity, to stop looking at him entirely — once he had memorised the hollow of his cheeks and the sharp line of his jaw — to admire his beloved coast. He would insist and stand his ground whenever they did not agree on a subject, and stopped using a distant language reserved for prince. Nicholas felt more like a friend than a royal god. 

“Which star are you to become ?” Euijoo asked, while they were gazing at the night sky. His hawk slept soundly on his laps, pressed against his stomach. He felt every breathe, every beat of its heart.

“Myself. I am not to magically turn into an existing star, I am to become a new one. I can not take someone else’s spot, I shall take my own.” The god replied, a proud smile on his lips. 

Euijoo tuned his face to him and saw how fervently the prince desired to fulfil his destiny. “It is not lonely ? To become an immortal star ? It sounds like a terrible fate to me.” He could not help but ask.

“Do not speak ill of Fate.” Nicholas turned to him. The prince did not often looked at him, and Euijoo felt a violent urge to jolt away from his all-seeing eyes. Nicholas looked irritated. “You are a simple mortal, there is no grand destiny for you, do not make me feel bad for mine.” 

A silence. Euijoo — who had started looking away, uneasy — faced him, holding his gaze, hurt barely concealed on his face. “You are vain, your Highness.” 

If Euijoo was not as angry as he was, he would have probably enjoyed the incredulous look on the god’s face. He was the first to put back the distance Euijoo had worked to shrink into nothingness, and instead of walking back to the god, he had dug deeper, letting the ocean flow between them. The words had been on his mind for a while. Every time Nicholas would act spoiled, Euijoo would feel a terrible wind inside him pushing him to almost shout at the prince. But he never did, and even here, he did not scream. The words were soft, like how his mother used to scold him gently when he would not obey. 

“What are you implying ?” Nicholas asked. He was visibly displeased by the comment, but his voice did not falter. 

“It means his Highness is a spoiled prince.” The hawk awoke, probably bothered in his sleep by Euijoo’s heart racing in his chest. It took its spot on Euijoo’s shoulder, keeping a cautious eye on Nicholas, like protecting its master. Euijoo felt conviction build up in his stomach, the sound of the waves whispering reassurance words to his ears. He was not scared of the god and of his wrath anymore. “If you will excuse my honest words, my lord, you will not keep friends close if you continue being malicious and mocking. If it is true and eternity is promised for you, I am afraid you will be much lonely among the stars, all alone with your vanity and petulance. But, maybe I am the one mistaken. After all, nothings awaits for me.” 

Euijoo left, the hawk flying low behind him, leaving Nicholas alone on the cliff. 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

That day, Nicholas went back to the sky puzzled. In the corridors of his father’s palace, he stumbled on his mother and her dark hair covering her shoulders like a waterfall. She did not spare him a look, wandering ahead on her way to the gardens, eager to reunite with her precious trees.

“Mother.” Nicholas called and she stopped. She turned to face him, indifferent as always, her visage as blank as a rock. Euijoo’s words on the cliff rushed back to him once more.“I am sorry for the vase. I hope you will grant me your pardon.” 

The look on her face eased gently, like the petals of a flower opening under the Sun. A smile stretched her lips and the motion brought colours to her pale cheeks. She left without uttering a word. But the young god had seen the look in his mother’s eyes — a spark of warmth and maybe the beginning of love again — and felt the newly formed weight on his shoulder lifting. Nicholas hoped she would sit next to him in the sky once Fate made him a star. 

Life went its way without his father catching on his escapades. His mother would reassure the king, brushing his greying hair with all the softness in the world, telling him things along the lines of ‘the prince spends his days with me’ or ‘worry not, my dear, for he is good and on the path to his destiny’. And the king would smile fondly and worried not. Nicholas was grateful to his mother, their new shared complicity and the honey of her voice. 

He became good to everyone. A gentle smile to the domestics when they walked past him in the corridors, a nice word to his teachers, and a helping hand to tend the gardens. At first, people were unsure of his conduct, and very little saluted his efforts to be better. But after a while, everyone eventually opened to him and his sweet heart. Nicholas found it was harder to be arrogant when loved, and that being loved felt better than being feared. The tantrums stopped, the anger too, and the palace tasted the tranquility of an appeased god. 

Nicholas began to spend most of his time in the palace — listening to his mother’s tale of the world, sharing her knowledge on nymphs and gods, and titans and cyclops, and every creature on which there was something to be said about — more time than with Euijoo, on the cliff that had become theirs. The queen’s stories were ecstatic, filled with sea monsters, dragons and unfaithful gods, but the prince missed the dullness of Euijoo’s stories. Nothing on Earth was out of the ordinary, and for a god who had been raised in a land of deities, of worship and of magic, the certainty of Earth, its constant cycle of war and peace and war and peace, felt reassuring. Almost comforting. Nothing bigger than Nicholas’ existence would happen on Earth, nothing he could not defeat nor anticipate. 

A month passed without him returning to Earth. A new feeling had bloomed in his chest, and he found difficult to put words on it, to describe it. Longing felt appropriate. He longed for the bare cliff beat by the wind, where grass hardly grew, the ocean crashing in waves against the rock older than everyone who marched on it, for the cry of the sea birds, for the big eyes who had stopped looking at him in fear. Every morning, his heart ached thinking of Euijoo waiting for him, his hawk — the one Nicholas gifted him — on his shoulder, eyes fixed on the sea. But every morning, he was irresistibly pulled to his mother, her gardens, her gentle soothing hands, the scent of sage and the security of the palace, the security of obeying his father for once. The pleasure of being a rightful prince. It made him feel like he deserved the grand destiny awaiting him. 

One morning, his mother greeted him with a grave look on her face. “He will forget you.” She said. “Mortals forget easily. You must go.” 

Nicholas did not ask how she knew, for she was a powerful being herself, and had her ways with the trees; even the ones on Earth. He did not contradict her, and followed her words. He jumped to reach the cliff he was so used to stepping foot on now, but Euijoo was nowhere to be seen. He had skipped their rendezvous. 

The god felt helpless for the first time in his life. Euijoo had told him everything of his world, except how to find him, and Nicholas had no idea on where to begin his search. When squinting his eyes, he could see what looked like a small village all the way down the path that led to the cliff. He remembered Euijoo telling him about his father’s dovecote, where he tended to the birds with his sister. If this was Euijoo’s village, finding a dovecote in it would not take long, and Nicholas tried to whisper courage to his own heart. The village could be a start, and if he came back with nothing, then he would come back tomorrow, and every other mornings after, until Euijoo came back. He would search every inches of every villages in the entire island just to find him.

The walk to the village was longer than he had anticipated. His mortal legs were a bit shorter, a bit weaker. When he finally reached the first house, his hair was soaked with sweat, sticking uncomfortably against the skin of his forehead and the back of his neck. His clothes were wet too, but he tried to ignore it. 

The village was bigger than it looked from up the cliff. Completing a full tour of all the houses would take Nicholas probably more than an hour, but he was determined to find Euijoo. Something in the way his mother had warned him to not let the mortal forget him pushed him to continue his exploration. He had to find Euijoo. 

The houses were small, built haphazardly on both sides of the dirt road. In the centre, the agora stood tall, a well next to it. A bit farther down the road, a temple shadowed the most isolated houses. It smelled like fish and tired flesh, like sweat and heat. Nicholas’ nose frowned, and he suddenly missed the sage smell which always lingered in the air of his father’s palace. From the corner of his eyes a movement caught his attention. Kids running behind a ball made of sheep’s shredded coat and some old used cords, laughing loudly, full of youth and joy. Then, behind them, smiling fondly as he always did, Euijoo. 

Nicholas’ breathe caught in his throat and his feet followed the kids’ voices. Euijoo passed a house, and the young god grasped a last glimpse of him before he entered a small brick house bare of windows. 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

Doves and pigeons started chirping softly when Euijoo entered the small cote. He smiled to the birds, the sound familiar and comforting. He did not go to the cliff that morning, like all the others for about a week. Nicholas had stopped coming around a month ago, and the shore was not as peaceful any longer. The sea held memories of his mother, the hawk, and now of a young haughty god too. His father’s early mornings bad temper had passed, and the house was quiet again, like the sea after a storm. His sister gave him her spot in the cote with the birds. One morning, she had seen him sitting outside their house, looking at the village’s kids running around, his hawk on his shoulder. The next, she had told him she was tired of attending the doves and pigeons in the morning, and Euijoo had understood it was her way of giving him a new hideout, a new place to be at peace. 

He reached for the grain sack, the birds chirping harder. As he was about to pour the bird’s food in their basin, his eyes met slender black ones, looking straight at him. In the dim lit small bird house, his eyes almost shone the way animals’ eyes do, the few light rays passing through the door blinds getting caught in it when he moved. Euijoo did not jolt, he had seen him from the other side of the street — peeking at the kids and then at him — and had wonder whether he would come to him. For a second, he asked himself if he had finally brought the wrath of a god upon him and his family, but the prince did not look angry. 

“Greetings, my lord. What can this bird keeper do for you this morning ? Do you wish to send words to a dear someone ? We own the fastest birds in the entire island, you knocked at the right door.” Euijoo, hurt, feigned ignorance. If Nicholas was not angry, then Euijoo would be. Punishing a god was a fool thought, but he wanted to try nonetheless.

Nicholas’ eyebrows frowned — confusion painted all over his face, as he had never been able to hide any of his inner thoughts and feelings. Silence reigned between them for a few seconds, before the young god finally answered, going along with Euijoo’s play. “I do. I wish to send words to a dear friend of mine. Would you happen to know him ? he is named Euijoo and owns a fiery hawk.” 

“What would his lordship possibly have to say to a simple man like the one you speak of.” Euijoo snarked, now more angry than hurt.

Nicholas’ gaze softened, his hand attempting to reach for Euijoo’s, still gripping the grain sacks. “I believe he deserves an explanation. And apologies, most of all. I wish to apologise if he will let me.” 

Euijoo felt the tears rushing to his eyes. In the short amount of time they had knew each other, the young god had made him want to wail more than he had wanted in all of his life. “I hope your highness has a great explanation.” Was all he said. No tears, no cries, he contained it all in the pit of his stomach. Nicholas did not need to know of all the emotions storming his heart. Euijoo let him hold his hand instead. 

They walked to the cliff, the hawk trailing high up. Nicholas talked about his mother, her gardens and her newly found motherly love for him, about how Euijoo’s words had changed him, about his life in the palace now and how his people never feared him or his anger anymore. Euijoo found himself smiling fondly. He felt his chest swell with pride at how his simple mortal words had changed a god entirely. He had never heard any stories about mortals changing gods, it had always been the other way around, so maybe he was the first to do so. 

The prince apologised, more than once, and Euijoo forgave him. He had forgiven him the minute he had let him hold his hand, but Nicholas did not need to know.

The sea was calm, the seagulls happy and free. Euijoo closed his eyes, listening to Nicholas talk about his golden life, feeling the breeze caressing his sweaty hair and tasting the salt on his lips. He felt carefree and content. The prince came back, and even apologised. The prince came back for him. His prince came back for him. He felt all-mighty, like nothing in the world could ever get to him. Maybe Fate had crafted a destiny for him. Euijoo did not care for grandness, and did not particularly wished for an out of the ordinary fate — the only thing he hoped for was for Fate to keep him close to Nicholas, as close as possible. His place next to the god did not matter, as long as he was next to him, he was sure despair would never reach him. 

“I never had the chance to ask for your age.” The prince’s voice pulled Euijoo out of his mellow daydreams. “May I know ?” 

“I just turned seventeen the month before.” 

A time, a silence between them, the god’s face frowned by his inner thoughts. Euijoo turned to him, intrigued. Nicholas looked at the sea and the mountain on the side, the trees, the white of the sheep and the blue of the sky. Anything but Euijoo.

“We are of the same age.” He finally said. 

Euijoo laughed, hard and blithe, for it felt ironic. “Your highness is expected to live for as long as the world stands, and maybe will remain if it crumbles. Is age truly crucial in such situation ? I would probably not even bother count if my years could not be numbered.” 

The god did not laugh, but Euijoo did not fear his silence anymore, as it did not mean anger was to follow. He looked perplexed, reflecting. Compared to their last time on the cliff — the harsh truth from Euijoo’s mouth, the prince left alone with the sea — he had been quieter, slower in everything he did, like he needed to consider carefully each words, each looks, before acting on them. He wanted to be loved and appreciated, like the real gods from stories parents tell their children. 

“It is not. I had never counted before today. You can call me Nicholas. We are of the same age, you are allowed to use my name.” The young god replied, stubbornly refusing to meet Euijoo’s gaze. 

Euijoo could swear the tip of Nicholas’ ears had turned vermilion. Before he could look closer or make a snark comment about it, Nicholas was gone once more. 

“Nicholas.” Euijoo told the wind, savouring the way the word felt on his tongue. 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

Months passed. Then years. They swore an oath; for Nicholas to come down to the cliff every morning, and for Euijoo to walk up the path to the sea and meet him there. If Nicholas were to be late, Euijoo needed only to call out his name, for the god had promised to always listen. Nicholas would go back to his golden palace, his mother’s garden and his preceptors once the Sun’s chariot reached the middle of the sky, and Euijoo would walk down to the village, his father and the dovecote. 

They turned eighteen, then nineteen, then finally twenty. Euijoo’s limbs continued to grow and Nicholas’ mortal body, although fake, followed. His face became older, his jaw more defined, his arms more muscular. His legs turned stronger — he could run miles now without feeling tiredness weighting his body down. Euijoo would stare at the muscles shift under the skin, covetous. He had never been much brawny, more tall and fast than sturdy and strong. But Nicholas was a god, and even in disguise, a god stayed a god. He was shorter still than Euijoo, but Euijoo knew if the god could drop his disguise, he would easily be one head taller than him. 

The sun and the sea salt turned Euijoo’s hair lighter, a warm honeyed chestnut colour. He would look at Nicholas’ golden locks and wish for the Sun to turn his the same colour. Nicholas’ skin was golden too, glowing bright while they swam in the sea. A prince painted in the colours of the sun and of treasures. Euijoo’s tan skin did not shine gold, and looked dull to his own eyes. 

When he was still a kid, Euijoo’s mother had sang the myth of Adonis. He was said to be the most gorgeous mortal man Earth had ever known, so beautiful even goddesses desired him. His tragic end had always made Euijoo feel weird. He had been very young and still full of the kind of innocence only children have, which made the story horrible to him to the point where it had gave him nightmares. He had feared growing up beautiful for the entirety of a month, then was told another story, and forgot about Adonis altogether. Nicholas’ beauty made him feel uneasy as Adonis’ terrible story. His beauty was too raw, too unattainable for a common man, and it was scary. But Adonis had been a mortal, and Nicholas was a god — a god with eternity and the sky promised to him — so there was no need to worry. 

Nicholas appeared to excel in everything Euijoo was lacking, but Euijoo knew better than to compare himself to a god. He could only stare with envy as the prince would swim farther and faster than him, even though Euijoo was the one raised in the sea. A part of him desired to equal Nicholas, to reach his unreachable level, because Nicholas was everything one could dream to be — and another part of him, buried deep beneath his flesh, desired to equal Nicholas to be worthy of loving him. 

The realisation had dawned on him on the first day of summer, a weight on his shoulder almost as suffocating as the heat. It felt like the trees, the mountain and the sea knew before he did, like even the all-seeing Sun whispered to him about how long it took him to put words on the turmoil inside his head. His hawk knew too — it was probably the first to had done so — and flew right to Nicholas that summer morning, chirping eagerly, and Euijoo followed, dreading what would come for pretending became harder. 

Loving Nicholas was the easiest thing he had ever done. It felt the same as breathing. Loving Nicholas tasted of sea-salt and smelled like sun-kissed skin. Hiding it was the hardest thing he had ever done. Sometimes, Euijoo would entertain the idea of Nicholas sharing what lied in his heart, and daydreamed laying flat on his back in the water, letting the waves guide him. He wanted to catch Nicholas’ wandering eyes following the line of his waist when taking off his heavy peplos before entering the sea, or feel his warm hands colouring his skin golden just by touching him, or even hear him whisper sweet words to his ears. But Nicholas never did, and if he ever wanted to, he kept it locked inside behind steel walls.

“The heat is unbearable. Let us enjoy the freshness of the ocean, shall we ?” Nicholas asked, eager to let his limbs cool down in the water. 

Euijoo agreed, as he could never say no to the prince, and they followed the path along the cliff leading to the sea. The weight on his shoulders was slowly sliding to his stomach, his steps heavy and fearful. He became too aware of the sweat on his back — sliding down uncomfortably against his flesh — once Nicholas threw his peplos to the ground, running unclothed and impatient to the water. The waves met him gleefully, caressing his fake mortal body with love and respect. Euijoo could see his muscles relaxing and his face finding peace. His own muscles were tense, his body petrified.

Every time Nicholas bathed in the sea, it seemed like the Sun shone brighter. His resplendent skin turned the entire ocean golden the way the king Midas would turn anything he touched to gold. Midas’ golden touch had been punishment, but Nicholas’ appeared to be more of a blessing. The Earth shone harder with him in it. Whenever he went back to the sky, the sea would look dull and sad, sucked dry of its vital force.

Nicholas called out his name, waiting for him in between the waves. Slowly, painfully careful, Euijoo undressed and joined him in the sea. The water was clear, almost transparent. Euijoo felt his entire body flush, and kept his gaze away from the golden prince and his naked skin.

They had seen each other’s bare body multiple times as they loved swimming together. Nicholas had not been taught shame and never shied away to undress as soon as they reached the sand. Euijoo was used to it. He himself had been ashamed of his mortal body and his lack of muscles, but Nicholas did not look at it, and Euijoo grew more comfortable over time. Now was different, for his gaze had changed. His envious eyes did not want Nicholas’ body as his own, but against his, pressed on his skin, flushed and in love. He had always been good at pretending, but this time was harder. 

Euijoo swam farther, leaving behind him Nicholas laying on his back, slowly rocked by the waves. The water did not cool him down and he felt suffocating. The sea tried to get into his mouth, sliding down his throat to flood his lungs and kill him right there and then. The Gods had seen his shameful desires and wanted him dead, he was sure of it. He thought himself a fool for ever entertaining the daydream of being allowed more than he was. His bitter tears mixed with the salted water, he swam harder. 

When he finally turned back — far enough to be able to breathe, the sand and the cliff far away ahead — Nicholas had left the water. He could discern his golden frame finding shelter in the shade of an olive tree, its branch stretching far enough to cover a few spots of sand. He had dressed again, and even from where Euijoo was, he saw the fabric sticking to his wet skin. He could only imagine the drop of water pearling in the blonde curls, rolling down his neck and his back, and shivered slightly at the thought. His hawk was perched on one of the branch, looking over Nicholas for him.

It took Euijoo a few minutes to swim back to the shore, and when he reached the shade of the olive tree, his peplos only tied around his hips, Nicholas was sleeping. Euijoo sat next to him in silence. Close enough to see the light freckles on his skin from the sun rays bleeding in between the leaves of the tree, his golden hair slightly wet still, the flush of his skin from the heat and the sea stones he had grazed while swimming, the slow and peaceful rise and fall of his chest — but far enough as to not disturb his rest. The hawk chirped silently then opened his wings and flew away, for he did not need to watch over the god anymore; Euijoo was here. 

“There is not a sole thing i wish for more than to be able to kiss you.” He whispered the hard to contain words. With a long and miserable sigh, he turned away. Back to the sea, to his hawk flying along the water, dipping his feathers from time to time. 

“You can.”

The voice made Euijoo jolt, as he had expected to be met with nothing but silence. He had spoken to the void, to the quietness of the shore. His eyes stubbornly stayed fixed on the ocean and the waves, his hawk, scared of facing Nicholas. He heard the sound of sand when the god shifted next to him, but still he did not look. 

“I can not. you know it well yourself, I can not.” Euijoo replied finally, throat dried and painful, fingers digging in the scorching hot sand, as golden as Nicholas. 

“I wish for you to kiss me. You may do so.” Nicholas pressed on. His soft but imperious voice made Euijoo shiver from how close it was. The god had moved nearer, his breathe on Euijoo’s hear. 

“You are a god, and I am but a mere mortal. I shall not, and I will not. You might not fear the Gods and their punishment, but I do. I am not allowed to do so.” Euijoo finally turned to him, tears pearling at the corner of his eyes. Hurt and profoundly unhappy, despair painted all over his scrunched face, he went on. “You may be able to do as you please as you are an immortal prince, but I can not.” 

Euijoo had intended to say more, but the words never escaped his lips. Nicholas was crying. Nicholas’ tears rolled down the bump of his cheeks before Euijoo’s one could do so. He did not hear the god’s voice waver, and never imagined him sobbing. The sight was too uncommon, it made him lose his composure. 

The god moved closer, even closer than before, and Euijoo held his breathe. The heat was suffocating, the sand felt itchy against his irritated by the sea salt skin. A rock in his stomach nailed him to the ground; he could not move if he tried to. 

Nicholas closed the distance between them and his lips grazed Euijoo’s ones, soft and tender. Liquid gold against his skin. He held back a scream

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

Euijoo jerked back, tripping on his knees and hands, struggling to get up. Nicholas reached for his arm, but his finger clasped against air. Euijoo ran back to the sea as fast as he could, and the prince could only watch from the shore, tears staining his face still. 

“Euijoo !” He screamed, but Euijoo did not stop. He did not even spare him a look back. 

Nicholas cursed at the sky and the Gods, and even cried at Fate for its cruel hands which had shaped his life. He got up on his feet an ran after Euijoo. The waves hit his body less gently than it did an hour earlier, the hawk cried on top of their heads. A storm was coming, he could feel it as well as the bird an the sea-water. The storm had reached his head already, destroying any rational thoughts. 

He had always been a better swimmer than Euijoo, and it only took him a few seconds to close the length Euijoo had worked hard to expand between them. Nicholas grabbed his ankle, pulling the man to him. Euijoo tried to wrestle out of his grasp, pushing against the god’s torso, his legs furiously agitated. Nicholas only registered the warmth of Euijoo’s palm against his skin even through the, now soaked, fabric of his peplos. Euijoo rarely touched him — probably from the last marks of respect he had not been able to shake off even after the multiple nagging of Nicholas begging him to treat him as a friend, and equal — but Nicholas had always been grateful for the physical distance between them, as the touch made his brain mellow and soft, unable to reflect on anything else but the smell of leaves and feathers lingering around Euijoo. Nicholas was stronger, and Euijoo could not escape his grasp. 

“To hell the Gods and Fate, Euijoo. Do you love me ?” Nicholas howled louder than the sound of the waves crashing against their tangled bodies. It was deeper than just about the kiss, now. 

Euijoo stopped resisting, and Nicholas grabbed his face gently, forcing their eyes to meet. He wanted to ask again, eager to hear the much awaited answer, but he knew by now not to rush Euijoo, to give him his time. 

The seagulls’ cries and the melody of the waves crashing furiously against them filled the silence. The sky was still blue, but the dark clouds on the horizon advanced at a dizzying speed and would soon cover their shore. 

“I can not.” Euijoo whispered finally. 

The ocean was loud. Nicholas was louder, his voice thunder, shouting like a god. Euijoo was quiet, his voice a river, whispering like a mortal. They could not be more different than the other. 

“I am demanding you to put aside who you are and who I am. Do you love me ?” Nicholas’ fingers slid down to Euijoo’s neck, bringing his face closer. His hair was wet, his skin drenched and slippery. Nicholas did not know if the water rolling down Euijoo’s cheeks was from his tears or from the tempestuous ocean. He did not answer, looking deep inside Nicholas’ eyes, infinite pain all over his face. So, Nicholas spoke again, almost against Euijoo’s trembling mouth. “I love you, Euijoo. I have loved you for years. I am not a god of illusions, nor of lies. I gave you a hawk as a token of my affection. I gave you all my mornings for years. I gave you everything I could give you as a friend, for you were the first in my life to offer me your friendship. I wish to give you my love, properly, if you will let me, for you are the first and the last I will ever desire. Do you love me ?” 

“There is no point in me returning your affection, the Gods and Fate will not allow it for I am not worthy.” Euijoo cried out, desperate. He sobbed, every shallow breathe hitting Nicholas’ lips. 

“The Gods be damned.” Euijoo hissed at the words, terror bleeding into his eyes. He feared the wrath of deities more than anything. Nicholas went on, an absurd fervour animating him. “I do not fear anything nor anyone. Euijoo, tell me you love me and I will defend you against the sky and the earth, against the sun and the ocean. Hell, against the underworld even if I need to.” 

Euijoo sobbed harder and whispered “I do.” A silence, then he pressed on, like to be sure Nicholas understood the depth of his words, “I love you. But what good is there to it ?” before crumbling against Nicholas’ body, his own shaken by violent cries. 

Nicholas’ tears poured harder too, but there were tears of desperation no more. He felt immaculate happiness wash over him, and could not stop a smile from forming on his lips. Those three words were the one he had wanted to hear for a long time now. He pulled Euijoo down into the sea, letting the waves swallow them whole and their tears with it. 

His arms encircled Euijoo’s bare shoulders, Euijoo’s mortal body an anchor for his disguised god one. Nicholas pressed his lips against Euijoo’s. He did not move away this time, and his hands slid down to Nicholas’ hips, clutching the soaked fabric of his peplos. The waves and the water had turned dark, hiding them from the sky and from the all-seeing gods. The threatening clouds holding thunder, lightning and rain in their arms were on top of them, another thick coat of protection against unwanted looks. Euijoo feared Fate, but Nicholas believed it was on their side. 

Kissing Euijoo felt like drinking ambrosia, feasting on foods and treasures only gods were allowed. There was no need for him to turn into a star, for he was already changing into one, his limbs tangled with Euijoo’s. The storm in his head passed, washed away by pure bliss and love. Euijoo held him closer, kissing him more fervently, and Nicholas begged the sky to never let this moment end. 

Air ran out and they left their shelter underwater for the warmth of the hot sand and the shade of the olive tree. Euijoo tried to talk but Nicholas did not leave him time to open his mouth, greedily kissing his lips again. Euijoo giggled against him. He tasted the sound of his laughter, the salt of his tears mixed with the sea water. He felt Euijoo’s ribcage on his own, rippling with joy and fear. Nicholas held him closer. They stumbled and fell on the soft ground, Nicholas trailing his mouth along Euijoo’s jaw and neck, down to his collarbone. 

“Do not fear beloved, for I am here and I will always be.” The young god whispered against his mortal lover’s bare skin. 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

Time never stopped for anyone. Wishing for the flow of years meant to pass a certain way to suddenly slow down to a leisured pace could be considered as foolish and impudent as defying immortal divinities. The Gods had always been powerful, they built the world from scratch, from the bodies of their Titans parents. Even them, the high and mighty deities ruling over Earth, had no way to win against Time. Meddling with Time would simply disturb the universal order. It would make Fate void and hollow. It was, and had always been, plainly impossible. One could simply not ask for Time to stop, even less for no more than a simple mortal.

Nicholas knew from the day he kissed Euijoo it was no use silently praying to the Gods for time to stop, as there was no scheme in the world able to stop Time. He shoved the thought down, buried it under images of Euijoo — his smile, the sound of his hoarse voice in the morning, the gentle way he had to pet the hawk, the flush of his cheeks provoked by Nicholas’ sweet loving poems, the soft caress of his lips against Nicholas’ skin, the way he looked on top of the prince in the depth of the night when they were alone with the stars, flesh against flesh, becoming one — and enjoyed the years Fate was willing to give them. 

A decade slipped by. Ten long years for Euijoo who could feel his body maturing, but a blink of an eye for Nicholas, for he was immortal. 

They broke their oath. Every time Nicholas would come down from the sky, it was not only for mornings anymore. He would spend his nights on Earth too and go back to his golden palace in the early morning. If he could, he would have probably stopped going home altogether, but he was a prince and did not have much of a choice. They found, if he had to rejoin his kingdom, they liked it better when they could spend the evenings and nights tangled together on the warm sand, rather than the short hours of the morning. Euijoo would fall asleep his head on Nicholas’ torso, peaceful and feeling whole, while the god admired him in silence for he had no need to sleep. Nicholas would watch over Euijoo, and the hawk over them both. Being alive felt sweet like biting into the flesh of a ripped fruit. The sea was always calm and the sky clear. Nicholas’ entire body fluttered of absolute ecstasy, and he could not feel worries at all. 

They taught each other everything they knew. Euijoo showed Nicholas how to tend to the birds in the dovecote, the right way to extend his arm for the hawk to perch on it without scratching his skin with its claws, how to fill holes and cracks in the walls of the houses in the village — the god had become familiar with the villagers and all loved him as one of theirs, always grateful for his kindness and helping hands. Euijoo showed him also the best way to move his ankles and get the rubbish ball children played with to go far, he taught him the name of every plant on Earth, the seasons and the different rise and fall of the ocean’s tide. He took him where the fish swam the most, they gazed at their colourful scales and tails, trying to catch them without really meaning to. Nicholas helped Euijoo swim better and faster, and they dived farther and farther each day, like they wanted to reach the next island.

Nicholas could not show much of his world to Euijoo, as his life was out of grasp for a mortal, high in the sky. He described it the best he could, the way his mother’s skin gleamed green and smelled of the forest after rain poured, his father’s golden eyes and the way they shone in the dark the way an owl would, the plants growing in his garden, made from the blood of Titans and Gods, the rivers made from clouds and the clouds made from dreams. He talked about the nymphs and the stories they told the palace, the song they sang and how he would play with them, straining the chords of his golden lyre. 

He could not bring his lyre on earth with him as it was not made for mortal ears to hear, so Euijoo crafted him one. He used the finest wood he could find — from a maple tree which had been laid on the ground by a storm — and made the body of the instrument, carving it with love and patience. He stole a few hair from his father’s horse mane and thinned it to make strings. The object was not perfect, but it had lit up Nicholas’ face with the light of a thousand stars when he had seen it the first time, and it had been enough for Euijoo. 

Nicholas played every night for the moon, a silent prayer for their secret love to never end. He played while rosy fingered Dusk covered the Earth, for the birds and the waves, and they would sing it back to him in the morning. Euijoo loved to hear him play. He cried the first time, the hawk on his laps, rubbing its small head against its owner’s sobbing chest. Later, he had told Nicholas the melody had reminded him of his late mother and how she would lull him to sleep while humming softly to his child ear. 

Euijoo talked the most about his mother. Every thing he had learned, he had learned through her. He did not say it outwardly, but Nicholas understood nonetheless that she was his model in life. He wanted to be like her and kept her in the warmth of his heart at all time. 

She had been the daughter of a fisherman from another island far away. Her father disappeared at sea, with his boat and the secret of what became of him buried between the waves. She had never feared the sea still and left the island on a small boat for another one, after marrying a birds’ keeper. Euijoo told Nicholas he thought she might have loved the sea even more for it was all she had left of her father. Years later, once Euijoo was grown enough to walk, she was the one who insisted on teaching him how to swim. They would dive together, exploring the creeks and the beach of their island. One day, she swam too far, and the ocean swallowed her whole — like it had done for her father years prior — never to be seen again. She, who had never feared the sea, died at its hands.

Nicholas asked if Euijoo was sad about his mother’s passing, since he never saw him cry her. “I miss her every morning and every night, more than anything. I think she is happier wherever she is, swimming with the sea, the fish and her father.” He had replied, and Nicholas never asked again. 

Euijoo’s father died on the day he turned thirty, and it felt like a blow in Nicholas’ stomach. Euijoo was mortal and would die, too. He was ageing a little bit more every day. His body had fully grown into one of a man, his hair darker, his face serious, all roundness gone. Even his eyes had stopped shining the way young boys do. His sister had married a few years back and left the island for her new family, and their father’s death left Euijoo utterly alone on the land where he had grew up. Nicholas did not know how much more time they would be allowed together. Another decade ? A hundred of years ? Or maybe even way less than that ? 

It dawned on him on the morning of his own thirtieth birthday, he was bound to loose Euijoo. He could loose him the next morning, or even in the next hour. Imagining waking up in the morning, Euijoo’s dead and cold body weighting on his own, made him desperate. He wanted to save him more than anything. Saving Euijoo’s life meant saving his own, for Euijoo was all his life and more. 

He ran to his mother that morning, finding her in the gardens. She was already waiting for him, in the shade of a cypress. She had tied her hair in a single long braid, leaves and flowers tangled in it. She looked older too, exhausted and greying. Nicholas’ heart clenched. It felt as if his entire world was leaving him behind, even though his mother was immortal herself. 

“He is ageing, mother. He can not forget me for I am there everyday, but I can feel it the same way I can feel my own mortal form ageing. One day he will wither and be gone, and I will be left alone. I need him next to me like I need air to breathe. He is the greatest man on Earth, Fate is a fool for separating us.” He cried and wished for her arms to hold him close against her chest. He hoped she would act like a mother. 

“Do not insult Fate so foolishly, my son.” She replied, serious and cold. Her greenish hand reached for his arm and she pulled him to sit next to her. Her other hand stroked his golden hair, striking warmth against the iciness of her visage. “Go to your father and implore his help. He will make him immortal, but you must deceive him for he will be against this union. The mortal must come disguised as a woman. Your father is good and can never get in the way of love if he decides it pure.” 

Nicholas ran to Earth as fast as he had ever did and called for Euijoo even though the Sun’s chariot was already drowning in the sea. He screamed and shouted, desperate, hoping Euijoo would hear him from the village and come to him. Euijoo did. 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

“What is it ?” Euijoo asked in a breathe. He felt the unsteady rise and fall of Nicholas’ chest against his when the god embraced him and the world started spinning around. Something was happening, something bad. 

“Do you trust me ?” Nicholas said, his mouth against the skin of Euijoo’s neck.

Euijoo frowned, worries filling his stomach slowly but surely. “I trust you absolutely. There is no one in this world I would trust more than you, Nicholas.” He felt the god sob silently against his flesh and held him tighter. “You can tell me everything, I am here and will always be. What is it ?” 

“I have to deceive my father and his pride.” The god raised his head to meet Euijoo’s troubled gaze. “He has to make you immortal so we can wed and be one for eternity. For that, we need to disguise you.” 

In the prince’s eyes a weird light shone — the beam of determination. Euijoo took a step back, frightened. “I am not to be a star, Nicholas. I don’t share your destiny.” He wanted to break free from the god’s embrace, but he did not let him go. 

“What if you are ? I have never heard what the Oracle said, I do not know of the full prophecy. What if you were in it all along ? You said you trust me. I need you to trust me for this too.” 

Euijoo pushed away Nicholas’ arms, gently and full of affection, but firm still. “I do trust you, Nicholas. But, as I told you when we were younger, immortality is much too intimidating to me. I am afraid, terribly so. I can not share your burden in the sky, it is too much of a punishment to me. I yearn for freedom. I yearn to be like my hawk.” 

He saw the way Nicholas’ eyes shone differently, hurt and sad, tears pearling at the corner of it. “I can not live without you, Euijoo. My freedom is you.” He said, desperation in his voice. “I can not breathe properly if I do not know you safe. You are half of my soul, maybe even more. Maybe all of my soul. You are my life and I will not be satisfied with just your mortal time. I need us to take all of our next breathe together, until the end of everything. Immortality will not be lonely if I am to be next to you.” He waited a second, like hesitating, before talking again in a broken voice. “I can not bear to see you dead in my arms. Let me be selfish this once, I am begging you.” 

And indeed he begged. The god got down on his knees, pushing his face against Euijoo’s tall and still youthful legs, embracing them with his imploring arms. Euijoo felt his heart breaking in pieces. A god begging was not a common sight and his stomach churned at the realisation. Nicholas never thought twice when it came to expressing his love for Euijoo, but he had at no time asked humbly for anything in his entire prince’s life. He had been selfish before — way before, when he had been but a young and haughty prince — but it had never been to Euijoo’s dismay. 

Euijoo liked his impermanency. The promise of his own death had a reassuring melody to it, the certainty that one day it would all stop felt like a sweet relief. He did not want to die early, but he wanted to die nonetheless. His love for his mortality was strong and had always been strong — because death also meant that he would join his mother in the underworld — but his love for Nicholas, ultimately, was stronger. He caved in, his legs failed him and he fell against Nicholas’ trembling body. 

He kissed the tears rolling down the god’s face. If he could, Euijoo would drink his cries, just to be sure Nicholas would never be sad again. He poured his mortal love, his mortal mouth pressed against Nicholas’ golden god fingers. Nicholas needed not for his tears to be drank to never feel sad again, he needed only for Euijoo to be next to him in the sky, between all the others stars and the moon. Euijoo knew it very well. 

“I agree.” He breathed out, tasting his own tears on his tongue, feeling his heart trying to piece back itself. “I shall be by your side until the end of time.” 

He felt the god sob harder against him, shaking both their bodies with cries. Nicholas kissed him adoringly, like Euijoo was a statue of a deity and Nicholas his worshipper. Like Euijoo was the god himself and Nicholas a simple loving mortal. He kissed Euijoo like he was his entire world for he was, if not more. His overwhelming golden god love made Euijoo’s tears fall harder. He did not feel as much scared anymore. Nicholas loved him and it was all that mattered. Even immortal, he could never be alone. 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

The image reflected in the water felt troubling. It looked like someone else — Euijoo felt like someone else entirely. His short brown hair hidden behind a soft scarf coloured like the night sky, deep cobalt and cloud of lighter blues. His eyes had been painted sunset by Nicholas. He had said his mother taught him how to do it, and knowing the queen was helping them in their scheme had made Euijoo more confident. The queen also gave her son clothes for Euijoo to wear; a sea-blue chiton and a pristine white himation. A scarf for the sky, a dress for the sea, and a shawl for its foam. Nicholas looked at him like he was the entire universe and dressed him as such. 

He held his mortal hand in his big god’s one, and suddenly Euijoo realised Nicholas was no longer hiding behind a mortal form. He was bigger, taller, golden all over, his voice thunder again, just like the first time they met. His breathe got stuck for a second, but then lightning struck the Earth in front of them — the king’s anger. 

Euijoo barely had a second to school his nerves, for the god was already standing in front of them. Tall, proud, and frightening. He felt shivers along his mortal spine. The god king was enormous, all muscles and furry. His body was the size of a mountain and his hands a forest. It would take of him little effort to crush Euijoo to pieces, without even breaking a sweat. Nicholas’ hand reached for his, assuring and gentle. He whispered “It will be alright.” and squeezed Euijoo’s hand tighter. 

The disguise was seamless. The dress and the shawl hid Euijoo’s manly frame, his long and slender limbs lost in soft fabrics. The paint on his face made it softer, he looked gentle and sweet, not frightened as he truly was. He was convinced that if even himself could not recognise himself though all those layers of lies, the god king would not either. 

“Father.” Nicholas spoke, taking a step in front of Euijoo, chin held high and proud. “I implore your grace and your infinite kindness. I am in love with this maiden and wish to marry her. She has but her name to herself, which means I only need your approval for our wedding to take place.” 

“The Oracle spoke, she said Earth would be your doom, son. I forbad you from coming here and you dared disobey me. Your end will be near.” The king did not spare a look to Euijoo, did not acknowledge his presence in the slightest, but his next thunderous words were directed at him still. “Since Prometheus gave you the fire, your kind has been ravaged by an unquenchable thirst for everything we, the Gods, can offer.” 

Euijoo felt his blood run cold in his veins. Nicholas’ hand was deadly cold too, and he could not hear the prince breathing next to him anymore. Fear had paralysed the both of them. Euijoo did not know a god could be scared. He fell on his knees, hands clasped together, tears falling like a burning rain on his iced cheeks. “Your Majesty, my lord, mighty god. I implore of you to give me your forgiveness for I am demanding something I shall not. I beg of you to accord us your kindness and mercy, and to let us wed.” 

He did not know what came of him, as even Nicholas had stopped talking in dread of his father’s anger. Euijoo wondered where his intense terror of a god’s furry had gone, for he faced this one like there would be no consequences, no tomorrow. But tomorrow felt uncertain, as death was growing near.

“Your impenitence will be punished. You shall beg and beg again and still I shall not give you satisfaction.” A terribly mean laugh escaped the giant mouth of the god, making the ground shiver in terror. “You made a grave mistake in coveting something forbidden to you, but you made your fate terribly worse by trying to deceive me. I am a god. One does not fool a god. It is greed that will cause your end. Go, and never come back. My son shall never be yours.” 

The king turned around, the cliff and the sea crying his violence. Before the lightning came to lead him back to the sky and his golden palace, he turned his face one last time to Nicholas. “Say your goodbyes. This is your last night on Earth. Tomorrow, you shall be a star.” 

The words were final, prophetic. More powerful than the Oracles’ own words, perhaps. In a second, he was gone, leaving only a scent of burnt soil, despair and death lingering behind. Euijoo got up to face Nicholas, but was met only with the hawk, the shore and the ocean. 

Suddenly the entire island had gone quiet, and even his hawk did not chirp when Euijoo fell to the ground. The sound of his heart shattering echoing against the waves. 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

“She told you, did she not ?” Nicholas barged in the garden, his voice dead and sad. His mother turned to him with an all-knowing look on her face — like she had expected him to come, like she was waiting for him. “You were aware, you heard the entire prophecy. You still sent me straight to his arms.” She nodded only, her visage gracious and held high as her rank had taught her to do. “Why, mother ? Why ? Did you want me to suffer ? You knew of our love and the doom awaiting for us, and you did nothing to stop us from suffering.” He tried not to shout, but anger swelled in his throat. 

“You cannot change Fate, my son. I expected you to know it already. I knew of your end and his, but I also knew of the beautiful years it would give you. The Oracle whispered to me how Earth would be your greatest ruin, but also your greatest joy. Your father never heard the end of it, and averted Earth like the plague because of it.” She opened her arms, as mothers do, waiting for him to let her embrace him. “When I saw you with him on that cliff the first time you met years ago, I knew there would be no way to prevent what would follow. Granting you my help and comfort to be happy at least a while appeared easier than protecting you from the inevitable doom awaiting at the end of the cliff.” She tried to reach for him as he was not moving — to stroke his hair gently — but he jerked away, hurt. “I have had my fair share of experiences with Fate. Do believe me, my son, there is no changing what has been written.” 

“What am I expected to do next ?” He asked, bitter and desperate. 

“I can not tell you, it was never for you to hear. Fate will come to you if needed, but I think you are on the right path already and know what to do next. You do not need me.” 

Nicholas let his mother embrace him, tight and final, before leaving the garden. He ran through the corridors, admiring the gold of it all, the heavy tapestries and the sculptures his mother insisted on having at every crossing of corridors. He stopped in front of his room.

The night slowly falling made the space look cold and dark, inhabited. Nicholas had not slept there in a while and it felt somewhat foreign. Even with the Sun’s chariot setting through the window, painting the sky with the colours of flames, it was missing the most important part of his life. Euijoo was not here to lit the room up, and there was no need for Nicholas to live there anymore. 

He knew those were his last minutes in the castle that had seen him grow. His last minutes with his mother, her garden, her greenish skin, her tales. He reached for his lyre laying abandoned on his bed. The lyre had been forged in gold, but looked dull in comparison to the one Euijoo had made him. It occurred to him that he would not miss the palace and everything in it. He would probably long to see his mother again, but as for the rest, his farewells were not tainted in sadness. Something buried deep inside him felt free at last.

The prince — for it was his last day as one — should have went to his father one last time, but decided against it as his anger was too grand. 

He ran out of the palace, his feet light and free, and went down to the Earth for his finale night. He found Euijoo down the cliff, on the sand, the waves licking his feet lovingly. Even nature adored him and treated him as a treasure, and it just made sense to Nicholas. He smiled to himself, engraving the image of Euijoo against the sea in his mind. His brown hair disheveled, pink fingered dusk painting everything in hues of orange, red and golden, the ocean crying its devotion for a mortal loved by a god. 

Euijoo turned his head around when Nicholas got closer, grazing the sand with his bare feet — he had left his godly sandal in the shining palace. When he caught sight of the god, Euijoo frowned, his eyes glistening with tears threatening to pour like the spring rain. 

“You need to stop leaving me behind as you please. I feared you would never come back.” His voice was bitter and strained, it stung Nicholas’ face like the sea-salt. The sunset painted on his eyes had been half erased already, the tears shed while he was alone with the ocean making it run along his jaw. 

Nicholas’ swore his heart had broke earlier that morning, but the sight of Euijoo on the shore, his clothes torn, laying on the ground next to him and his face stained of tears proved there were still part of it left to be shattered. His chest tightened and his entire body ached. 

“We have only but a night left. Do you know how short a single night is in a life ? And you went away without saying goodbye the minute we knew it was all we had left. I begged on my knees for you, for us. And you just left. It hurts, Nicholas.” Euijoo’s voice broke, he had started crying again. His body contained an ocean and his voice a river.

The god fell down on his knees next to Euijoo and took his mortal hands in his golden god ones. “I am sorry. I hope you will forgive me, I could not bear sitting around waiting for the final hour and not try anything to save us.” He talked low and sweet, but steady, afraid his god voice would be too loud. The hawk flew down from the sky and planted itself on Nicholas’ shoulder. It gave him courage. “I shall beg the Gods, Euijoo. I shall beg them with everything in me and pray to them. I am willing to give them everything I have if they will allow me to hold your hand in mine until the end of everything. I am aware I am asking for a lot from you, but I implore you to trust me this one last time.” 

Euijoo’s body collided with Nicholas’ one when he finally let himself be embraced by the god. The night breeze blowing early on the shore made him shiver and Nicholas held him tight, gently rubbing his hands along the trembling skin of his lover. 

“I trust you always and until the Earth crumbles under my feet. You have my eternal faith.” Euijoo whispered between two cries, his face pressed against the fabric on Nicholas’ chest, hands clasped together — the way a devote mortal worshiper would pray to a god. 

The words lingered in the air between them, like a bond tying them together. Nicholas’ chest swelled from pride through the sadness, for if Euijoo was on his side, he knew himself able to move mountains and break the sky. He laid Euijoo down on the sand gently, love coating each and every of his moves. He whistled to the hawk. The bird left his shoulder for his open hands and curled up in them. The hawk had always been obedient, he was a loving bird and had never left Euijoo’s side. Its final act of love was to be their messenger to the Gods, carrying their love and hopes inside his heart. 

Euijoo had told Nicholas once, about how his mother would whisper her worries to her hawk, and how the bird would fly away with it, making her fears disappear in the depth of the night. He hoped it would work for them too, and the bird would take Fate far away from them, somewhere it would not be able to reach them. A gigantic favour for such a small bird — but the hawk was strong and raised in love, so it complied in all its gentleness and the kindness of its tiny bird heart. 

Nicholas whispered to it, his voice like the soft rumble of a stream. The bird did not need to be told about the ocean of their feelings for one another as it had seen every act of intimacy through its own bird eyes, had heard every vows through its own bird ears, and had felt every emotions with its own bird heart. He sang the whole story to its heart nonetheless, chanting the beauty of his lover and how even the Earth adored him — the sea, the clouds, the mountains, the birds and the forests all seemed to look only at Euijoo — how the Sun had never shone to him before meeting Euijoo. How mortal love had made him, a god, a better one, a better god. 

His tears fell slowly on the bird’s feathers, a slow affectionate rain on its shining armour. It did not move. The hawk stayed curled in Nicholas’ hands, listening, not bothered by the cries. It looked sad, its eyes shining with unshed tears, for it was a part of their story, a part of their love, a part of their doom. 

“Oh, goddess of love. You know of our affection and of its purity. My lady, you can not let this love end in doom. I humbly implore for your kindness.” He cried to the hawk and the Moon behind it. She watched over them with her impassible round face, and he hopped she would relay his begging to the goddess. He wanted for the entire Earth, and the Sky too, to take pity on them.

It took Nicholas hours to say everything, to tell the entire tale. Euijoo had joined him after the first hour, and together they whispered their warmth and devotion for each other the the docile bird. When it was over and there was nothing to say anymore, they begged. They called on the Gods through the hawk, pleading their kindness and mercy to defy Fate and give them even just a few years more next to each other. 

The god who knew he was no longer truly one anymore, sealed their words and supplications with a kiss against the bird’s chest. He whistled once more, to which the hawk chirped in answer. It pressed its small and soft head against the fingers of Nicholas, then flew around Euijoo’s head — crying his own love for its master, chirping sad farewells — before taking off for the clouds hiding the stars. 

It never came back. 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

Soft and quiet Dawn woke the Earth and the Sky — Gaia and Uranus — announcing Helios and his burning chariot. Announcing the day. A hawk had flew from Earth right to Aphrodite’s palace on Mount Olympus, carrying between its feathers a secret message only she would hear with a gentle ear. 

She, ever so gracious, rose from her pearl bed. She embodied everything beautiful and beloved in the world. Pristine white clothed her, and her long hair, painted in the darkest deepest black, fell on her shoulders the way spring rain caressed the Earth. Her dark eyes had seen everything through her godly sleep. The hawk perched on her window and looked at her with its bird eyes filled with adoration. She invited it in, her arm extended towards it. It flew to her, circling her sweet flesh carefully with its claw.

She listened to the bird’s cry. It told her about the love he had witnessed, the warm words it had heard, the devotion its masters had shown each other. Her shining palace reflected on her black and tender skin, smoother than the surface of a mountain’s lake and softer than the finest silk. She took pity on the god and his lover, as she always did when pure love was sang to her. 

The goddess praised the bird for it was brave, and strong, and accomplished the mission it had been given exemplary. Gods, especially her, loved rules breaker as it gave them entertainment from their monotonous grand lives. And Aphrodite was amused. 

Love had always been prettier to her when it came from someone else’s mouth, when it happened to other people. The goddess of love adored love, but did not wish it on herself. She had experienced it, and had regretted it. Listening to the hawk brought tears to her eyes. The love it sang about had to be the most precious one she had ever heard about, and she understood why the god, his mortal lover, and even their hawk, wanted to cherish it like the rarest of treasure. 

She knew Fate could not be defeated, for it was absolute and finale. Even Zeus, king of the Gods, would not be able to rewrite what had been written in blood and birth. Titans themselves had never tried to go against it. What must happen had to happen, the Gods had always followed the rule. She liked the leisure that came from the stories of people defying orders and laws, but was not one to do so herself. 

She knew of the god’s grand destiny as a star — it had been spread around the Earth and the Sky since his birth — but she had never heard of the mortal and his own fate. Her curiosity almost pushed her to call upon the Oracle to hear of what was promised for the mortal, but she did nothing of it. She was clever and knew the Oracle would not say a word, for destiny had to go its way without the help of knowledge. 

Fate could not be changed ever, but one was allowed to go along with it, triggering small changes which would eventually, in the grand scheme of Time, bloom into something bigger. The god was promised a spot in the sky, but nothing had been said — or unsaid — about the mortal. It gave the goddess an idea. 

She kissed the bird, granting it eternal rest in the sky, so it could come back maybe as a cloud or as the rain. Then, the goddess of love descended from her pearl-like palace, down to dull Earth. Down to the cliff. Down to the shore where the god and his mortal lover had fallen asleep, limbs and tears tangled. They held each other so close and dear, one could not see where the god started and where the mortal ended. The sight moved the goddess, and her loving heart shed silent tears. 

The god woke up, feeling her divine presence hovering above them. He kneeled humbly, his head low and shameful, but did not wake up the mortal man laying next to him. The goddess smiled fondly. 

“Rise.” She said softly, her voice the sweet spring breeze. “A very devout one, your bird is. I listened to your cries through him, and your love has touched my heart. I will grant you my help and protection.” 

The god, who had rose to his feet when she had told him to, fell down on the sand, tears silently running along his jaw. Her delicate hand peeked from her long and heavy peplos. She reached for his wet and grateful face, gently caressing his cheek. A motherly gesture from the mother of love herself, to one of her adoring children. The god indulged in the warmth, pressing his face against the tender fingers. 

She bent down on the mortal — light like the wind, her hand still on the god’s cheek. She blew gently on the sleeping man, feathers, petals and sugar escaping from her breathe. He opened his eyes at last, confused to where he was and with who. She smiled to him too, reassuring and maternal. “Fate is coming, mortal. Will you be ready for it ?” She asked, keeping her voice low and affectionate. 

Every single gesture from her was coated in the thickest layers of love and sweetness. The mortal had never seen a higher god, but she saw in his eyes how she was exactly what he had expected her to be. They both did not speak, but they bowed in unison, fervent and ready. They were ready — or at least they tried to appear ready. The goddess could feel the nervousness throbbing under their flesh. 

“I am a goddess, but there is only so much I can do against Fate. I am gifting you an eternity of love. My gift will not be ideal, but it is a gift nonetheless and I expect you both know what to do with a gift from a god.” 

She rose, and they rose with her. She turned to the sea and the sky, all tinted pink from the first lights. She blew again, to the wind this time, and her golden breathe flew to the sky. The world turned dark, for the night fell again, freshly born dawn banished behind the mountains once more. 

The goddess brushed her hand against the deep black dome, in which her hair could be confused. The stars lit one by one, following the movement of her hand, and then soon, the milky way. The sky was clear and calm, the quietness and nothingness of space deafening. She pointed to the celestial vault — her right hand to one side of the milky way, the left one to the other. Two bare spot separated only by the celestial river.

“This, will be your home.” She spoke, like a prophecy like she was rewriting Fate for them. “And this,” she added, turning back to the two lovers, “will celebrate your union.” 

Hands opened before them, two rings made from the hawk feathers preciously held in them, she walked up. The mortal kneeled in front of her, bowing his head in gratefulness, and the god accepted the rings from her, silently chanting her praises. She was good and kind, and he promised her in his prayer to remember it always. 

He slid one ring to his own finger, then the other one on his lover’s finger. They made a vow, just like their first one, to love each other always and until there would be nothing left of the world. Until the Earth dried up and withered, until mount Olympus’ cloud evaporated completely and until no Gods would be left. The truth would be as is : they would probably love each other even once gone, even if Death ever found them. 

Aphrodite, goddess of love and of lovers, sealed their vows and with that made a deal; a deal with Fate, for it to be merciful and accepting. She, all powerful, blew on the both of them, one last time. This time, the breeze was dark spotted with white light dots. The lovers were taken by the wind, and the goddess was left alone on the shore. She admired the two new bright spots who shined harder than any others in the night.

The shore had no owner anymore. It looked sad, for it would never see the god, his mortal lover, and their bird anymore. They glowed far away, next to the milky way, for now and ever. 

⋆✴︎˚。⋆

Pink fingered dawn peeked through the blinds of the temple, tickling the eyes of a young miko slowly awakening. July had fell on the valley not long ago, its heat and humidity lingering heavily in the air which had been cooling just a few days ago still. The streets arbored lanterns and colourful precious paper stripes, for Tanabata’s celebrations were expected to start soon. It had made the whole village look more alive, more cheerful — but everyone held their breathe still, desperately afraid of the rain. It remained in the air like a static apprehension than not even the bright and strong Sun, shining days after days, could shake off. 

The miko had celebrated three Tanabata since she had started working at the temple, and each one had been ruined by rain and despair. She had celebrated a lot of other festivals, in her life as a student and then as a shrine maiden, but Tanabata was specially dear to her heart. 

It was said that Tanabata celebrated the love of two stars, who had not always been stars. One had been a god, and the other his moral lover. When Fate had tried to separate them, they implored the Gods to be merciful, and save their love. The father of the god denied them, but the goddess of love heard their cry and went down to Earth for she adored lovers and would always give her protection when met with devotion. 

Fate had never been on their side — and this time, too, it was not. The miko’s mother had told her the story as such : when the goddess offered her gift, the lovers became stars. But, the milky way ran between the both of them, and crossing it was impossible for it was a sacred river, a magical stream that would never wither and would forbid them from seeing each other forever. This was the punishment from the god’s father, who had been hurt by the goddess helping them when he had been against their love. The goddess had been smarter than him, and once a year she would send a hawk. The bird would fly from one side to the other, carrying the god to his mortal lover. Fate did nothing of it, and the father was too enraged and scared to go against the goddess even more than he had already done. 

Years had passed, and their reality became a myth, a story passed on from mothers to children, once a year in the heat of July. One fella decided it was worth celebrating, and that is how Tanabata came to be. Another one, way later, made the whole affair more sinister for he said if it were to rain, it meant the mortal man cried his golden god lover who had not come. If it were to rain, it meant the hawk could not cross the milky way — as it was too strong and unwilling. If it were to rain, it meant the lonely god had been separated from his life once more. 

That morning, the miko smiled, for the Sun shone high and bright in the sky.