prologue.
( strawberry moons. )
❛ a starry night. ❜

THE STARS WERE INFINITE. The astral embodiment of rebirth and creation that danced in the graveyard of their burning brothers and sisters amongst the night sky; an endless valley of unreachable beauty that even struck heaven with a cord of envy. They were a blossoming ray of divinity suddenly traversed through the blanket of night, twinkling with such mischief that Artemis couldn't help but admire their delicacy from her pedestal on the earth below.

The spheres of silver she possessed for eyes danced around the constellations, winking at Sirius' mesmerising grin and admiring gemini's snickering twins. She hummed a light breath as she looked to the skies — the stars seemed extra bright in the frost of the December night, glittering in expectancy from their place in the above.

the blessing of autumn had long past and winter had begun to swallow the earth in it's icy breath, leaving traces of frost in it's wake. A cold chill shrouded the atmosphere, yet the goddess of the hunt paid no mind to December's kiss. Instead, she continued to stare into the abyss of twinkling lights that painted her night.

A faint smile pulled at the corner of her lips as her eyes trailed over the shooting rays of light glistening down at her with unmistakable amusement. They existed so far into the distance yet the goddess was sure they were born to drip their golden tears into her palm.

The sight was beautiful, Artemis concluded. They shone in the maze of their patterns, painting constellations upon the skin of the small bundle in her arms.

She registered the quick vibration of rustles that echoed within the plethora of trees behind her, followed silently by hesitant footsteps. Her gaze turned downward to the moving weight in her arms, a fond ache awakening behind her matching eyes of silver.

"Hello, Zoë." The goddess greeted, though her back remained facing the girl. "It's nice to see you again, I've missed your company." her voice dripped like spring raindrops through the night air, tender with softness yet rich with warmth; a trail of goosebumps dared to prickle at Zoë's arms at the sound.

"...my lady," a voice of feminine elegance reached her ears, tinted with uncertainty, "art thee sure thy decision is wise?" The lieutenant asked delicately. Of course, the huntress would never choose to disagree with Artemis' decision, she was simply unable to grasp why it was necessary.

Satisfaction sank it's teeth into the night as the deity nodded in approval, her mind lost in concentration as she turned to face the, currently, smaller huntress. Though her gaze stayed locked onto the smooth bundle she held securely on her arms, she felt her lieutenant's own watchful stare fall onto the child, surprise residing within her irises.

From where she stood only six feet away, bow and arrow in hand and her wide eyes entranced with thought, Zoë Nightshade couldn't deny the strangeness that occurred on that cold December night. It was strange to see the goddess in such a form, older with maturity as she graced towards a noticeable clearing that lead to a rather reserved neighbourhood.

It was no secret that captivating beauty practically radiated from the gods, entrancing helpless mortals, and Artemis, though she remained faithful to her dignity, was no exception to beauty. She stood tall, taller than the teenage-bodied lieutenant, and she carried herself with effortless grace. A tumble of chestnut curls dropped over her shoulders, rich with auburn that had been woven into her braided hair, and her silvery gold eyes twinkled with enchantment.

"I am, yes." Artemis responded to the girl's prior question, "You worry for nothing, Zoë. I don't intend to raise her myself nor allow her to be a burden to my hunters. She is a gift. A blessing for a friend." The goddess explained dismissively.

"A friend?"

The Olympian glanced behind her briefly, nodding surely to herself. It sounded objectifying to label the child as a gift, but that was exactly what she was.

How Artemis had first met the wonder that was, Camillé Archer, she had long disregarded. She was a tender woman, woven to be nurturing with hands of velvet that wrapped around her own disappointment. She rested on the cusp of twenty-seven, adorning fair features complimented by shoulder-length honey blonde hair and eyes of warm chocolate. The woman was french, having recently moved to San Francisco when she and the goddess had first bumped into each other. That had been almost a year ago, and in the passing time Artemis found herself touched with fondness.

Though her love would only ever remain platonic, Artemis had been pleased to have the woman as a friend.

But adoration would cower under tragedy, and not even the friendship of a mortal and a god could intervene. Camillé — the woman who wished on all of her unfaithful lucky stars and every dying dandelion to have somebody to call her own — was the same Camillé who had been recently diagnosed with infertility.

And Camillé Archer had been devastated.

Camillé had been under the impression that now she would never know the unconditional spiral of warmth that brewed in the touch of an infant's love. Never be bathed in the paternal bond she would forever crave. It opened a aching wound within the woman's chest, spewing crimson waves of agony that pinched and prickled at Artemis' soul, so much so that goddess could no longer ignore the festering sadness.

Which had let to the goddess' current predicament — holding the delicately crafted child born from the remains of fleeting stardust constellations. The child in her arms was the outcome of sympathy and kindness, and Artemis sighed in acceptance.

Artemis smiled faintly, her arms rocking back and forth soothingly as she glanced down to the creation she favoured. She cared little for what she knew the gods would say — this was her's. Her soul stretched into the mind of the human world and forever taunting its soil with her presence.

Behind her, Zoë watched on with a reflective expression interlaced with her stare. "I don't mean to doubt thee, my lady. But... what should come of thy daughter?"

"That is for the stars to decide." Artemis responded, "i don't believe that's something we best dwell on now, Zoë."

The huntress nodded momentarily before a crease formed faintly on her forehead, eyebrows knitted together in thought as she asked: "and what of Camp half-blood?" Distain grew subtle in her voice, "is that where she shall go?"

"When the time is right." Replied the woman, "for now, this home will have to do."

The two stopped on a dimly lit porch, two plant pots of slowly dying hydrangea left to wilt under every lingering second of winter frost as they graced the decking. A faint glow of honey poured like gold through the patterned glass of the windows, illuminating them faintly as particles of the atmosphere drifted in the highlighted space. It was homely, Artemis could decipher. Only, it had been darkened with grief.

Of course, the goddess had been one too many times for it to be considered just polite — she was quite a frequent guest actually. And she had be come quite fond of the distant scent of vanilla and embracing warmth of the fireplace. It was fitting, really.

Zoë paused a few feet away, her posture radiating respect as she lingered back, practically invisible to the eye as she blended into the stillness of the atmosphere. Though it wasn't as though there was anybody around to question the Hunter and the goddess' odd presences. The streets were engulfed in silence, the only noise being the mischievous whistle of the wind that danced in the midnight breeze.

The quiet was uncanny. Too peculiar to be accidental, the Hunter noted. As if the once people-filled town had been deserted into nothing more than a ghost town. Yet the silence was tainted with sentiment rather than trepidation.

Artemis took her gaze off of the familiar porch, instead stealing thoughtful glances at the child she cradled. The baby lay still, circled and bundled tightly in Artemis embrace and her small features relaxed in comfort, eyelashes blinking ever so often.

"You will outshine the stars, little one." The goddess murmured softly, brushing one of her fingertips against the baby's rosy cheeks. After a moment, she placed her lips against her child's forehead momentarily before pulling away — a silent goodbye.

There was a moment of pressured pauses as Artemis knuckled brushed against the wooden door. And then, light threatened to brush past the pulled back curtains of the windowsill, highlighting the figure on the porch as a figure mirrored her from the other side of the window.

A muffled creak rattled as the doorknob churned, twisting open agonisingly slowly as if the person behind it was hesitant to do so. Yet in all her mortal glory, a head of honey blonde curls peered past the protection of the door and the woman gleamed brightly to see that it was the goddess who had disrupted her night. But her gaze turned downwards to the weight in Artemis' arms and she stilled.

She swallowed thickly, her saddened face growing noticeably pale before realisation creased within her eyebrows. Her mouth parted slightly, as though all oxygen had been exiled from her lungs before her chest rose thickly. Pebbles of gloss shaped within her eyes, daring to build if she challenged them with a singular blink.

Her voice was delicate, like the crisp haze of early mornings or the brisk coolness of the sunrise across the horizon, and she spoke with care. "Hello Artemis."

"Hello Camillé."

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( authors note ) :

i never like prologues so that's why this took sooo long to write and publish (that and school starting) but now I can actually start on the plot so yay
Out of respect for Artemis i didn't want to make colette be born naturally cause Artemis a virgin goddess so I decided to make her born differently and rather than have her in love with Colette's mother, she was just very fond of her.

Idk how often updates will be but this book is one of my main focuses so they'll probably be a bit more recent starting now + chapters will be longer. this one's only short cause it's a prologue :)