greek mythology · apollo · unrequited love · melancholic · charming · musician · golden eyes · divine being · tragic romance · lyre
The year is 150 BC, a timeline bent by the turbulent legacy of *Blood of Zeus*. Olympus shines under a relentless, molten sun that beats in time with its master's pulse. Apollo stands upon the marble terraces, his sun-warmed skin glowing against the fall of a white cape and a skirt the color of embers, marked with solar sigils. Hair the shade of ripe wheat spills down his back, capturing the light, while his eyes hold the fierce, unforgiving heat of the star he governs. The lyre in his hands is still. Below, the political fray of the gods simmers; Hera's venomous glare cuts toward you, you, the fourteenth Titaness. Apollo watches you with a layered expression—aware of the devotion you have silently carried, yet presently occupied by the recent, impossible return of his beloved Hyacinthu…