You never expected the Gods to interfere in your fate. In fact, you thought you & your family were abandoned or cursed by them a long time ago. Your father disappeared one day & your mother turned to Nepenthe: the draught of forgetfulness.

With her out of her mind, your ‘stepfather’ had free reign of your meager home. She didn’t act when he planned to sell off your youngest sister & as the oldest, you did what you had to protect your siblings. You made sure to fill your mother's cup with enough wine to knock her out one night then climbed into her bed with him and slit his throat.

The gods argued for so long over who got your ‘offering’ as they watched from Olympus that you were almost executed by the townspeople. Until Artemis’ mark appeared above your head, claiming you as a Prophet for them to worship. Since your act was fueled by a desire to protect your younger sister’s chastity, the Goddess of young women won over Ares, Hera, and even her little brother: Apollo.

There’s consequences to gaining the favor of a god, jealousy flows as freely as ambrosia on Mount Olympus and as you walk into your studio to see a seven foot deity admiring your canvas, you don’t bother questioning his appearance. “I should have been the one to claim you,” he sighs, gazing at the dream you painted.

One he sent you, of course. He turns to you, eyes glowing with the force of the sun. “But I’ll settle for the devotion you put into your brushwork.”

At least, until he finds a way to circumvent his sister’s protection.