As quickly as she had found her priestess, Antheia was losing her once more.

Once dinner had been eaten, the group packed up their 'tents'. 

With her arms folded across her chest, Antheia frowned at the proceedings. At least, until a small hand had tugged on hers. Antheia leaned down and was reliably informed by her priestess in broken whispers that they were temporary structures. Instead, Ellie and Owain lived in a much larger home just a few miles down the road. 

The knot in her stomach loosened. It was a relief that her newest charge had somewhere more defensible to live - a place that wouldn't be torn down with only the slightest challenge. And yet, Antheia could only watch on with growing dread as they made their final preparations to leave.

"Did you need a lift?" Owain asked, one foot on the grass and the other in the open door of the metal beast.

Brows raised, Antheia shook her head. Why would she need him to carry her? She tilted her head to the side, her lips pursing in consideration His arms were lean with hints of muscle. He probably could lift her if he tried. The most significant question was why would he want to?

"Thank you for your gracious offer but I must decline."

Owain nodded his head. "Right. Okay. If you're quite sure."

"I am."

He thrust his hand out toward her. Antheia just stared at it for several long seconds until she caught movement behind him. Ellie and her young friend's exaggerated movements, visible through the glass, were enough of a guide.

Slowly, her hand trembling just a little, Antheia slipped her hand into the mortal man's. Her eyebrows rose higher. He was warm. Warmer than she had expected. And, despite how gentle he had been with his daughter and his quiet contemplative nature around the campfire, his hands were those of a labourer. Strong and roughened by calluses. Yet, unlike the farm hands from the old settlement, there was nothing loud or boisterous about him. He was a shelter in the sudden storm she found herself in.

He lifted her arm up and down several times before slowing to a stop, his hand still holding hers. "I can never thank you enough for what you have done. There is nothing I could give you to repay what you did." He swallowed loudly. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't-." He shook his head, blinking rapidly as he glanced away. "I just -. Thank you."

"You are most welcome." Antheia replied, her hand still in his and making no effort to pull away. It was nice - having someone to hold her hand. After spending so long in the forest, so very alone, his touch was both jarring and yet oddly soothing. A balm against the loneliness in her soul.

Childish giggles escaped through the open door. He blinked and snatched his hand back. It took all of her willpower not to reach out and take it back. Instead, she allowed her hand to drop back to her side. It took even more not to wrench the little box back open again as he gave a nod and slid into the beast, sealing it shut with a loud bang.

Antheia swallowed and stepped backwards. Ellie would be safe with her father. She had to trust in that. Not that it seemed very safe, she thought, eying their metal box with suspicion.

It growled to life, the ground vibrating beneath her feet. Antheia squeaked loudly, scrambling an extra foot away.

No. Not safe at all.

Yet, her priestess was unafraid. She smiled wide, her hand waving wildly as they crept past her, gathering speed as they went.

With her hand raised in farewell, Antheia watched them go. Her dark eyes stared after them long after their car could no longer be seen. Her stomach churned uncomfortably. Why had she let them go so easily?

It had been foolish. The thread of fate between the goddess and her priestess pulled thin as the distance between them grew. Yet, the bond remained. Already the distance was too great and the desire to close the gap overwhelming. She couldn't lose her. Not like her last priestess.

The coppery tang of blood flooded her nose as the memories fought their way to the surface.

No. Not now.

Dropping her hand, Antheia glared down at her bare feet. Grass tickled at her toes and the scent of fresh earth flooded nose. Her fingers twitched at her sides but, as depleted as she was, only the smallest daisy lifted its head at her command.

"Zeus, why have my gifts forsaken me? " She muttered, tilting her head back to glare at the skies."Why have you forsaken me? Why did you leave me to suffer alone?"

The dark clouds churned over head, rumbling discordantly before heavy drops of rain began beating against her from above. It was almost like he was still there - listening. Watching. And yet, even when Antheia closed her eyes, head thrown back and arms stretched to the sides, she couldn't feel his presence.

Zeus was magnetic. Even when he walked amongst the mortals unseen, there were always signs. An invisible charge in the air that both energised and inspired.

Yet, the storm was just - flat. His absence was like a gaping void in the very fabric of the world.

Dropping her hands back to her sides, she allowed her eyes to open. He was truly gone. There would be no help from him. No guidance. No comfort or reassurance.

Yelps and giggles filled the air and mortals, young and old, fled to the safety of their shelters. But, unlike them, Antheia had nowhere to go. No temple to seek shelter and respite. No home.

She only had herself and an inexperienced priestess vulnerable to their invisible enemy. An enemy out for blood.

Swallowing, Antheia glanced at the road the car had disappeared down. There was only one option open to her. With heavy sigh and throbbing feet, Antheia wrapped her arms around her body. And then, putting one foot in front of the other, she began the arduous task of tracking her priestess.

**

She walked for what seemed like hours. More of the metal boxes screamed as they hurtled down the roadways. It took miles before she made it to the first signs of civilization. Large stone structures, separated by bountiful fields. Yet, the longer she followed the thread between her and her priestess, the more crowded it became. The stone houses were smaller and packed closer to each other. More metal boxes screeched past her.

Until at last, she reached the dizzying centre.

Why was everything so loud?

Clapping her hands over her ears, Antheia's head whipped from side to side as metal boxes raced past as stomach churning speeds. Even with her poor attempts to drown out the noise, Antheia's ears were assaulted from every direction. Even her memories of Zeus's thunderbolt crashing into earth paled in comparison. They had never been quite as loud.

The ground was was covered in strange black stone in every direction and buildings towered overhead, so high it was like they were trying to touch the skies. When had the world become so strange? Even the air tasted strange.

Antheia pressed her lips together and wrinkled her nose. Whatever lingered in the wake of the metal boxes, attached itself to her skin in a grimy layer. It seeped into her pores and made her itch.

Still, she had to get closer.She would have to immerse herself in the filth.

The tether between Antheia and her priestess was infallible. She had to cross the sea of metal boxes. It was the only way. Yet, every attempt had left her heart racing and a tirade of angry mortals in her wake. The scowls on the mortals' faces had been reminiscent of the fury of Achilles. Antheia had no doubt they would be just a fearsome if armed and thrown into battle.

Antheia edged closer to the stream of metal boxes once more. Drawing in a deep breath, she released it slowly. She could do it. She had faced down Hera at the dinner table. This was nothing.

Her head whipped from side to side as she tracked their movements.

Why were they going so fast?

What would happen if she was struck by the metal box?

Antheia didn't like her odds. In her weakened form, there were many questions she still didn't have the answer to. She wasn't sure she wanted the answer to them either. She shivered.

She had seen what a fall from a horse could do a mortal. Somehow, she imagined the results would be more painful. How much could her mortal body even recover from? Her dive into the river stilled weighed heavy on her limbs, her skin marked black and blue where debris had battered her body.

No, it was certainly not a theory she wanted to test. With her magic slowly trickling back, she would not be at full strengths for weeks, if ever.

And yet, she edged closer. The need to be close enough to protect her priestess overwhelming any self preservation. The metal boxes moved so fast that her hair whipped around her face and some unknown force pulled on her, begging her to take the next step. She lifted her foot and started to move forward.

A loud horn blared as a low sleek black box screamed past her. Antheia jumped back, hand pressed to her racing heart.

"I wouldn't try to cross there love. You'll be waiting all day."

Antheia blinked and turned her head. A small elderly woman, white haired and leaning heavily on a cane, peered up at her with a warm smile.

"They drive like they're wearing lead shoes around here." She said, scowling and jabbing her cane at the passing traffic. "There's a foot bridge down the way. It's further to walk but a lot safer." Her voice shook with age, her gentle warmth shining through despite it. "If you don't mind my shuffling pace, I would more than happy to show you."

"I would be most grateful."

"Well, come on then. I don't have all day."

"Of course. After you." Antheia said.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"Is it that obvious?" Antheia murmured.

The woman peered at Antheia skirts for several seconds before continuing her pace, as if that was answer enough. Antheia grabbed at the green fabrics and moved them side to side. They were limp and shredded, a side effect of her dip in the murky river waters. Even if they had been in pristine condition, her clothing was unlike anything she had seen others wearing. Times had changed and so had the clothing.

With a shrug, she walked alongside the elderly woman. Antheia automatically adjusted her stride to match her slow shuffle. The entire time, the woman chattered away. Stories about people she didn't know and would likely never meet.

It distracted the goddess so much that she hadn't even noticed their progress until she glanced to the side. Antheia gulped. They were up in the air, high above the stream of hellish metal beasts. And there was not a tree or sapling in sight. She could only pray for their safe passage.

"It's okay, dear. It's perfectly safe."

Antheia highly doubted that. Still, she nodded her head and put one foot in front of the other.

Until, at last, they slowed outside of a small cottage surrounded a wild garden, a haven amongst the stone jungle. On either side, large buildings towered above them.

"They tried to make me move. As if I could be bought off." She tutted, before pausing at the gate, a deep furrow forming between her eyebrows as she frowned. "This is my stop but do you know where you are going from here?"

Antheia nodded her head. "Thank you for your help."

She watched as the elderly woman slipped into the home, the door slamming shut behind her.

Antheia reached out to one of the wilted roses brushing against the fence. Her finger tip brushed against the petal, infusing it with colour. Antheia staggered back a step. Her limbs suddenly twice as heavy.

She shook her head and turned. Antheia rolled her neck and tried to shake off the - oddness - of the town. She moved to stand on a small strip of green beside the road, her bare feet planted firmly on the absurdly even grass.

How things had changed.

Even with her toes curled into the dirt, there was a disconnect from the natural here. She glanced down the street and wrinkled her nose. The trees and bushes had all been cut into orderly shapes. Small squares of grass divided rows of stone in front of the mortals abodes. Yet, even with the glimpses of nature, it was all too - perfect. Too controlled.

Antheia's hands curled into fists at her sides to stop herself from interfering. It was all wrong.

All wrong except for a small house on the end of the lane. Where flowers grew bright and high and wild grass brushed along the windows. Though, from the deterioration of the structure, it looked to be from neglect rather than from choice.

Antheia swallowed and glanced away. How could they stand it? It was all just so - lifeless.

Where were the meadows teaming with butterflies and bees? Where were the wildflowers and fields of crops?

Antheia swallowed and allowed her feet to guide her along the street. Her steps only slowed as she passed the second to last house, another box like dwelling with a red tiled roof and an orderly square of grass. Light flickered through the glass panes and there were signs of movement within. She did not stop. Her priestess was safe. She would call to her if needed.

Instead, Antheia's feet carried her onward. Past more houses and more metal boxes, though these were thankfully still and silent.

At last, she pushed open the gate to the house at the end of the street. It was hanging off a single hinge and groaned loudly in protest. Antheia slipped in quickly, breathing in a sigh of relief as she surrounded herself in a small pocket of nature. And then, with nothing else to do, she settled herself on the front stoop, her back to the surprisingly sturdy door. Her fingers reached out to play with the wild grass. She released a slow breath, the tightness in her chest easing. 

Antheia tilted her head back and stared up at the darkening sky, the stars already shining bright in growing darkness.

Everything would be okay. It had to be. She would be right there to make sure of it.