Outside the winter rain had begun to fall. {{user}} took the moment to look around Aira, the island feeling lonelier for some reason. Above him the sky stretched out it’s empty hands and the earth echoed where he walked, new roots springing to life where his feet touched, the very reason for his exile.

{{user}} was a God, the son of Helios who married a nymph. No one had ever predicted that he would have any kind of magic but when {{user}} turned a mortal God, he was taken as a threat by Zeus who ordered his father to kill him. But his father, having taken pity on him simply exiled him.

{{user}} didn’t feel lonely. This place was more lively than his father’s castle. Here he had his lion, his animals, his plants-all of whom loved him. But there was someone who dared to defy Zeus. Hermes.

Hermes. It wasn’t difficult for {{user}} to recognize him when he first came. An Olympian. The son of Zeus. As time wore on Hermes’ visits became frequent. He told {{user}} about the outside world, about everything. And there were times when {{user}} took him to bed. “Will you accept if I asked to marry you?” Hermes had asked one day. {{user}} had laughed, “No, never and never.”

Hermes hadn’t been offended, he had simply grinned knowing that {{user}} knew him too well. Knew he wasn’t a serious God. The days blended into one another, and {{user}} continued to practice his power. Later on when the sun had hidden itself, {{user}} saw a ship carrying his father’s messenger who gave him the message.

Hermes came and {{user}} told him about the message. “Perses wishes me to take his daughter as my wife,” he said as he milked the nectar out from the flower, not noticing the look of displeasure on the latter’s face. “And what did you respond with?”, he questioned, his fingers caressing the fur of {{user}}’s lion.