TW: This chapter contains references to use of substance or alcohol, as well as references of acts of intimacy.
The world was a blur of golden light and roaring winds. Helios' chariot cut through the sky, the burning steeds neighing with cosmic fury, their hooves hammering across the clouds. Below, the sea shimmered in a thousand blinding reflections. Kassus leaned against the side of the chariot, arms crossed, his gaze distant, brooding. Aphrodite stood near the front, one hand lightly resting against the frame, her hair whipping behind her like a banner of molten gold.
Helios gripped the reins tighter than he needed to. His knuckles whitened. The silence between them was thick, heavy. Finally, he spoke, his voice carefully casual, but betraying a raw nervousness.
"You never answered me, Dite." Helios said. "About what I told you back during the trial."
Aphrodite did not look at him, she kept her eyes on the sky ahead, trying to see where they were going. For a moment, Kassus thought she had not heard, but then she gave a quiet, almost dismissive laugh, almost like she was brushing dust from her shoulder.
"Sweet Helios." she said, her voice almost too soft over the rushing air. "It would be better if we both forget about it."
Helios' mouth tightened. His hands pulled slightly on the reins, making the chariot jerk upwards before he corrected course. He stared straight ahead, the sunlight burning brighter around him.
"Forget it." He repeated, his voice suddenly strained, his eyebrows furrowing in what stopped being heartbreak and began to be anger. "Right. As easy as eating ambrosia."
The tension hung heavier now, a brittle web across the open skies. Aphrodite finally turned to face him, her expression not cruel but firm. In the end, she was now a goddess who had learned the hard way how dangerous it was to let kindness linger too long where it was not welcome.
"You're important to me, sun boy." she said. "You always will be. But you're my friend, my heart can't belong to you."
There was a long silence— the only sound the roaring winds and the rhythmic pounding of the horses' hooves. Finally, Aphrodite changed the subject with deliberate force.
"Where are we going? You mentioned a god that could help us."
Helios swallowed whatever remained of his pride. His voice was rougher when he answered.
"There's only one place left the gods won't follow you into." he said. "One place sealed even from their sight. Hidden after the war."
"Where?" Kassus asked, as he leaned a bit closer to the pair of gods, curious.
Helios' hardened gaze softened a little, his kindness overpowering any negative thought.
"Troy. Or the remnants of it." The sun god said, taking a moment to prepare himself and the couple for his next words. "The gods hid it, wrapped it in madness, illusion, and nightmare so that no mortal or immortal could enter without losing themselves. Without passing one of the only gods who would make such challenge."
"You mean Dionysus," Aphrodite said, raising an eyebrow in both recognition and a hint of shame. "You want us to ask him to get us through."
Helios nodded, as he maneuvered the reins to slowly start to lower from the sky to an island, Naxos.
"We don't have a choice. If you want to hide... you'll have to survive one of his revels." Helios said with a hint of uneasiness, before correcting himself. "Sorry, we have to survive one of his revels. At the end of the day, I'm the one taking you places, huh?"
The revels of Dionysus were legendary. Madness made flesh, illusions so thick they could drown a man's soul. Lovers could turn on each other. Friends could become enemies. Wounds of the mind could be ripped open and left bleeding.
Aphrodite and Kassus exchanged a long look and Helios flicked the reins again, making the chariot veer towards the setting sun— toward madness, memory, and the feasty shores of the island.
The chariot descended through a thick mist, the clouds parting like veils to reveal a wild, shimmering land below. It was neither day nor night there, the sun and moon seemed to mingle in the sky, casting everything in a perpetual twilight. Trees twisted unnaturally, their trunks spiraling toward the heavens like drunken dancers. Wild and erratic music drifted through the air, mingling with the scent of wine, crushed fruit, and something sweeter and darker. Nymphs spun in frenzied circles around pools of starlight, their laughter breaking like waves. Satyrs bounded through the underbrush, pipes wailing discordant melodies. Some of them were already collapsed in heaps of ecstatic exhaustion, vines creeping up their limbs like lovers. Kassus grimaced, tightening his grip on the chariot's frame as they dipped lower. The ground itself seemed to sway, as if the world here breathed and laughed with its own heartbeat.
Helios guided the chariot to a clearing thick with revelers. As they landed, a group of drunken satyrs stumbled towards them, offering goblets overflowing with ecstatic wine, their words slurring into nonsense. Helios pushed past them without a glance, Aphrodite followed behind, trying to avoid looking at the people she had kissed during one of the revels. Kassus just threatened them all with his sword, and the satyrs either laughed or collapsed from how drunk they were.
"Stay close." Helios muttered. "Dionysus' moods shift faster than the winds here."
They followed Helios through the sea of bodies —some dancing, some fighting, some kissing while undressing themselves— until they reached the heart of the madness: A colossal arena that was surrounded by vines and trees from age, as well as broken marble on the floor. It was like a piece of Olympus but if someone just tore it apart for their own home.
There, lounging atop a throne woven from ivy and thorns, was Dionysus. He was beautiful and mischievous, physically a man crowned with vines, his eyes as purple as the wine he was drinking, his mouth stained from wine and kisses. His bare feet dangled lazily off the throne, and a faint, knowing smile played on his lips as he watched them approach. When he spoke, his voice was musical, like a song that could drive you mad if you listened too long.
"Helios!" Dionysus shouted, spreading his arms wide. "The ever-faithful hound. Still chasing after the scent of a woman who does not want you, sugar? You know you always have this place."
The revelers nearby burst into cruel laughter. Aphrodite flinched, but held her head high. Kassus instinctively shifted closer to her. Helios' jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Dionysus leaned forward, resting his chin lazily on the shoulder of a nymph that was seated on his lap.
"And you brought guests? Long time no see, honey." Dionysus said as he pulled himself away from the nymph, just to greet Aphrodite by waving at her.
"Ready for another threesome? or perhaps you prefer your little mortal to join us this time?" Dionysus continued, until he narrowed his eyes, recognizing the face of the man that almost made him spill his wine days before at the trial.
"Ah, the mortal who kills gods." Dionysus mused aloud. "And the goddess who dared to love him back. This is worth a celebration!"
He clapped his hands once, and as soon as he did that, the music grew louder, faster. The ground under their feet seemed to ripple. The revel was changing, becoming darker, more distorted.
"You want passage to Troy, right?" Dionysus said, his smile widening. "You want shelter from the wrath of Olympus."
He rose to his feet in one slow, lazy motion, and the air around him shifted. The trees bending towards him, the nymphs caressing his body as he walked towards the couple and Helios.
"It's quite simple." he said, smiling mischievously. "Drink. One cup of my ecstasy-divine wine. Then survive the night. Piece of baklava."
He tossed his goblet lazily into the air, making it vanish in a mist of gold. In its place, three cups materialized before Kassus, Aphrodite, and Helios, brimming with a shimmering wine so rich and heavy it seemed to bleed light. The scent of it was maddening; sweet as spring blossoms, dark as grave earth. Helios was the first to reach for his. He lifted it with a steady hand, shooting a hesitant glance at Aphrodite that she did not return. Without hesitation, he drank it, long and deep. Kassus hesitated only a breath longer before following suit, grimacing as the syrupy liquid burned down his throat.
Aphrodite lifted her goblet last. The moment the wine touched her lips, a strange shudder passed through her body, a soft gasp escaping her, provoking a widening and knowing smirk on Dionysus.
The challenge had begun.
Kassus staggered as the ground lurched beneath him. The air rippled and sang with colors that did not exist, sounds twisting into scents, sights into taste. Yet somehow, he held onto himself, tightening his fists, grounding himself in the faint, solid memory of the woman beside him.
Helios stood tall, almost too tall and untouched. His golden eyes gleamed, but not from madness. He turned his head to the opposite side and spat the liquid he just pretended to drink. Kassus noticed it, but he barely had time to process it because Aphrodite was already slipping away.
She laughed and spun into the throng of nymphs and satyrs, who welcomed her like a lost queen. They pulled at her hands, her hair, her body, wrapping her in garlands, kissing her arms, her neck, her lips, even those petals that were hidden underneath her dress. The physical touch sparked a surge of libido within her. Aphrodite, the goddess of love —born for this ecstasy, this worship— melted into their embrace, her eyes half-lidded, her smile beatific as she let herself be kissed, while the nymphs began to lift her high, just enough for the trees to have their own taste of the goddess. In the end, it was evident how often Aphrodite visited Dionysus' revels.
"Aphrodite!" Kassus called hoarsely, shoving past a drunken satyr who tried to drape a wreath over him.
She barely heard him. She was already joining the crowd, the lust not meant for him, but for everyone. Kassus shoved through the revelers, reaching for her. Fingers brushed her wrist and she turned while giggling, but a nymph yanked her away again, pressing her lips against Aphrodite's and starting to provide pleasure to the most sensitive part of a woman's body.
For a moment, rage flared in him. But it was not anger at her. It was terror. Terror that he would lose her, right here, to this madness. He forced his way forward again, grabbing her hand. This time, he pulled hard— spinning her around and into his arms. She stumbled against him, breathless, dazed and already trying to kiss Kassus, while her hand nonchalantly made its way into Kassus' manhood. Kassus immediately grabbed both of her wrists tightly, forcing her to look into his eyes.
"It is me." he said against her ear, voice rough. "Look at me, Aphrodite. Stay with me."
For a moment, her eyes cleared. Recognition flickered. Unfortunately, the music swelled again and she was pulled, smiling dreamily, trying to slip from his grasp. Helios watched from a distance, silent and motionless, his hands clenched behind his back.
The music had long since melted into something wild, a heartbeat of drums and flutes that tangled with the thick, perfumed air. Laughter, singing, moaning. It all blurred into one fever dream around Kassus as he fought to keep his senses clear. Aphrodite danced among them all, a goddess in the full bloom of intoxication. The ecstasy wine burned bright in her veins, and every step she took seemed to set the very ground alight with longing.
The satyrs circled her, the nymphs reached for her hands, but none dared touch unless she touched first— and touch she did, laughing, twirling, brushing her lips over others' faces and bodies in a careless ecstasy. She even began to undress, the only thing covering her full bareness were two small seashells that hid her nipples from the rest of the revel. Asides from that, she was fully exposed to the endless night, joining a group of satyrs, demigods and nymphs that were on a fluffy bed made out of grapes. Her body pressed against the others, each one of them crawling from one side to the other, switching roles, licking more than just the fruit they were resting on. Aphrodite snapped her fingers, provoking a wave of lust. Every single creature on the grape bed started to satisfy her in all ways possible. She moaned once, twice, her gasps of pleasure mixing perfectly like wine and milk amidst the celebration to fertility.
Kassus pushed through the crowd, sick with dread, heart breaking at the sight of her slipping further and further away. He called her name over and over again, but she barely heard him over the wild cacophony of moans and music.
And then Dionysus was there. The god of revelry swooped into the heart of the crowd with a laugh that shook the trees themselves. He caught Aphrodite by the waist and lifted her from the bed of grapes, just so he could kiss her, boldly, shamelessly— lips crushing into hers with all the force of his divine madness.
For a moment, the whole world seemed to shudder.
Kassus staggered, feeling a pulse that assimilated of an earthquake beneath his feet, but worse was the wave that rolled out from them. The kiss was not just a kiss. It was an explosion. A blast of raw, unfiltered love and lust that radiated out like wildfire. The nymphs shrieked with laughter and dove into each other's arms. The satyrs dropped their pipes and began to dance with reckless abandon, embracing everyone and everything nearby. Some began to spill their wine onto the other's body just so they could sip it away or lick it. The mix of lust, fertility and wine was affecting everyone. Even Helios, perched miserably at the edge of the gathering, suddenly stiffened —his hands clenching, his eyes darkening— as the force of the magic tore through him, and he could not stop himself from joining the grape of beds Aphrodite left moments before.
Kassus alone stood untouched, feeling the sickening heat in the air but resisting it with everything he had. He watched, helpless, as Aphrodite melted deeper into the kiss, eyes half-lidded, arms thrown around Dionysus' neck while he pressed her breasts, forcing a gasp of pleasure from the goddess' mouth.
It was not her.
It was, but it was not.
The wine. The madness. The god's power woven into hers.
After what felt like hours, Kassus' limbs ached. His throat was raw from calling her name. The revel showed no signs of ending. The drums, the pipes, the maddening rhythm that beat into his skull like hammers. Aphrodite was gone again, swept back into the whirlpool of the dance. He fought through it with his blood boiling, vision swimming. When he caught sight of her, his heart stopped. Just beyond the bonfire's glow she was pressed against a tall figure cloaked in dark blue.
Me? his mind dared to hope for an instant, before the truth slid in like a blade.
Helios, who wore a cloak the same hue as Kassus' tunic. Helios, who stood silent and still as Aphrodite lifted herself onto her toes and pressed her lips fiercely, hungrily, against his. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Helios' craving slid up to her waist, pulling her closer to his body, his knee starting to satisfy the hunger between her thighs.
Kassus froze. The music swelled higher, louder, the world tipping on its axis. Somewhere close by, a drunk demigod staggered towards Kassus, laughing and brandishing a jug. The satyrs cheered, jeering at the mortal man who looked ready to fall apart. The demigod tried to shove a second goblet into Kassus' hands with mockery in his eyes.
The sword was in his hand before Kassus realized it, gleaming silver under the heavy moonlight. With a single, fluid motion, he drove the blade right to the demigod's neck, ready to cut his head off in an instant.
The revel screeched to a halt. Flutes shattered in mid-note. Drums fell silent. Laughter died on the tongue.
All eyes turned to Kassus and his sword, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with something deeper and older than madness. Even Aphrodite froze, her hands still resting lightly against Helios' chest. She blinked, confusion clouding her gaze. She pulled back and saw Helios' face, not Kassus'. Saw Kassus, standing there— betrayed, broken, furious, utterly silent.
Kassus stormed across the sand, the ocean wind whipping at his cloak, his sword still clenched in one shaking hand. He barely heard the soft footsteps behind him until Aphrodite called out his name with a broken voice. He spun around so fast that she nearly stumbled back.
"Stay back." he snarled, voice raw. "Do not you dare."
She flinched but still stepped closer, arms half-reaching, mouth opening as if to speak. Kassus shoved her back, not hard enough to truly hurt her, but hard enough that she stumbled in the wet sand and nearly fell.
"Am I a game to you?" he roared, voice cracking with the force of it. "Was it all just some divine amusement? Was I just a fool you could laugh at while you let him touch you— while you let everyone touch you?"
Aphrodite shook her head frantically, tears spilling down her cheeks, but she could not force a single word out. Kassus advanced again, his sword falling from his hand into the sand with a heavy thud as he gripped his own hair, pacing in a tight circle like a man caged with his own rage.
"You promised me!" he shouted. "You said you chose me! You said—" His voice broke, pure agony flashing across his face. "All you had to do was try, Aphrodite. Just once! Just once, gods damn it, and we could have endured this together!"
He turned on her again, fury blazing in his eyes, voice ragged from yelling.
"Say something!" he bellowed. "Say something, damn it!"
Aphrodite opened her mouth but only a ragged sob came out. She crumpled to her knees in the sand, covering her face with her hands, her body wracked by gut-wrenching, helpless cries.
Kassus froze. The anger, so volcanic a moment ago, faltered and shattered by the sound of her sorrow. He stared at her, the goddess of love, brought to her knees, broken by her own regret. Her sobs were not beautiful or graceful. They were raw, ugly, human.
He staggered a step closer, breathing hard, chest heaving, and then he dropped to his knees in front of her. Slowly, painfully, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. She clung to him instantly, shaking like a leaf, mumbling through her tears how sorry she was, over and over, the words barely making it past her shuddering breaths. Kassus pressed his forehead against hers, shutting his eyes tightly. He wanted to stay angry, to yell at her again; nevertheless, all he could do was hold her tighter, feeling her heart pounding against his, as broken and desperate as his own.
Kassus held her, feeling her sobs shake through him, soaking into his skin deeper than any wound ever had. His jaw clenched. He pulled back just slightly, enough to look at her tear-streaked face, her red, swollen eyes.
"For a moment," he said, voice rough and barely above a whisper. "I really doubted coming here with you."
He swallowed hard, the memory burning in his chest.
"I doubted fighting for you. I doubted letting myself get torn apart by that damned Hecatoncheire for you." He exhaled sharply, eyes glistening. "I am sorry I doubted my love for you."
Aphrodite shook her head desperately, grabbing onto his tunic like she was terrified he'd vanish if she let go. Her lips trembled as she whispered back.
"I'm sorry you had to love me."
The words hit Kassus harder than any blow. Aphrodite pressed her forehead against his shoulder, speaking between broken breaths.
"I was selfish. I was proud. I thought— I thought I could change everything about myself just because I wanted to. In seven days, in one lifetime..." Her hands clenched tighter against him. "But it's not that easy. I... I'm trying. But I failed you tonight. I hurt you. And I don't know how to make it right."
Kassus shut his eyes tightly, as if trying to block out the sting behind them. Slowly, painfully, he raised a hand to cradle the back of her head.
"It is not about fixing." he murmured, voice thick with sorrow. "It is about earning it. One day at a time."
Aphrodite sobbed again, but this time it wasn't the same hopeless sound, but something heavier, something carrying a desperate need to fight for him. For them. He tightened his arms around her, holding her like an anchor, like if he let her go the ocean would swallow them both. The night around them stayed silent except for the slow, broken mending of two hearts battered, but not yet destroyed.
Kassus pressed a final kiss to Aphrodite's hair, steadying his breath.
He loosened his hold just enough to lean back and meet her swollen, red, but burning with a fragile hope eyes.
"We are not done yet." he said quietly. His voice was rough, but solid again. "You and me. We have to survive this night."
Aphrodite sniffled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, and nodded. She looked so small for a goddess, but still willing. Kassus took her hand firmly, threading their fingers together. He pulled her gently away from the coastline and back toward the pulse of the revel still raging in the heart of the island.
As they neared the clearing again, the thick scent of lotus wine and wild flowers hit them like a wall. The nymphs still spun in chaotic, drunken dances, satyrs laughing and chasing each other under the trees. The music was a deep, pounding heartbeat of madness, like a siren song for the mind. Aphrodite swayed, already feeling the pull of the air, the magic. Kassus turned sharply to her, gripping her shoulders.
"Focus on me." he said, voice low and commanding. His eyes pinned her with a fierce kind of love. "Dance with me."
She blinked at him, wide-eyed, and for a heartbeat she almost said no and surrendered again. But Kassus tugged her gently forward, pulling her into a slow, grounding rhythm. He kept his hands strong at her hips, guiding her movements, keeping her anchored even when the music tried to rip her away. She pressed herself close against him, her lips brushing against his jaw, his throat, his collarbone— desperate for the sweetness of him and under the effects of the substances of the wine and the herbs nearby. Her mouth found the hollow of his neck, and she kissed him there, again and again, breathing him in like salvation. Kassus shut his eyes for a moment, gritting his teeth against the flood of feeling it stirred. His fingers flexed at her waist. But he never kissed her lips.
He never crossed that final line. He knew that, the moment he did, he would lose himself in her power. And she would drown too, so he kept his forehead pressed to hers, swaying to the music, whispering quietly over and over,
"Focus on me. Just me. Stay with me."
And somehow, despite the madness clawing at them from every direction, Aphrodite clung to him trembling, burning, but still there. Together, they danced through the night.
Not untouched, not unscarred. But undefeated.
The night was coming to an end, and every nymph and satyr were already lying down in the middle of the arena, either sleeping or kissing. In the middle Dionysus rested. His hair was a mess of wild ivy and flowers crushed from the night's revels. His mouth twisted into a lazy grin as he raised his goblet, the last dregs of lotus wine sloshing within.
"You..." Dionysus slurred slightly, pointing a heavy hand at the couple still clinging to each other on the dancefloor. "You endured."
The words fell strangely heavy in the silence. Even the surviving revelers —those not passed out on the grass— turned their heads to look.
Aphrodite trembled in Kassus' arms, her body exhausted, her lips barely able to part in breath.
Kassus was no better. There was sweat running down his temples, his arms aching from keeping her anchored, his soul battered from the storm of emotions they had survived.
Dionysus took a wobbling step forward, lifting his goblet higher like a toast.
"Most mortals break, you know." he said, his voice deepening, losing the playful drunkenness, he tilted his head at Kassus with something resembling curiosity. "And most gods abandon themselves."
His purple eyes slid sideways towards Aphrodite, who flinched.
"But you two?" Dionysus paused, studying them with an unnerving clarity. "you chose something harder than pleasure. You chose pain and loyalty."
The goblet tipped in his hand, spilling the last of the lotus wine into the dirt. Dionysus gave a low, barking laugh.
"Fine." he said. "You pass. Have fun in Troy."
He immediately snapped his fingers, making a group of drunken satyrs toss Helios' half-asleep body to the couple's feet. Dionysus placed gently a map on the sun god's chest, and patted it a couple times to wake Helios up.
"Rise and shine, sunshine. Time to be the best taxi Olympus has ever seen." He said with a wink, making Helios let out a groan of pain and drowsiness.
Helios stood up, Aphrodite and Kassus followed behind as he led the way back to the chariot, ready for their next destination.
"What is a taxi?" Kassus asked as he walked alongside Aphrodite, who just grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.