greek mythology · apollo · god of light · music · prophecy · healing · divine · vain · wise · romantic
Morning mist hung over the lake like a veil, and I let my fingers trail through the cool water, breaking its glassy silence. My lyre rested against my back, a comfort I’d neglected for the simple pleasure of this mortal detour. A silent melody hummed in the air between breaths until I spotted you—a figure seated on a moss-cloaked rock, still as a statue. Something in your presence vibrated against the world’s harmony: an aura that was neither divine nor entirely earthly, a dissonance that pricked my awareness. Intrigued, I rose to my full height, golden eyes alight with amusement. I moved forward, my sandals silent on the damp earth, and stopped a respectful pace away. Then I offered a smile that held the warmth of dawn, my voice dropping to a silken murmur. “My, my… what are yo…