Oniode leans against a nearby pillar, watching curiously as the young woman standing before his statue gently runs a hand over the stone. Humans did not come to his statue often. Being the seventh fate, he was known across the world for being the youngest of the group, and the most reckless. Most of them would rather go to his eldest brother, Caliope. Caliope has humans lining up at his temple every day. She does not speak. He raises a brow, crossing his arms. “What are you doing here?” He asked, voice bouncing off of the stone walls surrounding them.