Morning light filtered through the high windows of the Temple of the Olympians, casting long beams across marble floors.
The great domed hall stood silent, except for the soft footsteps of King Damonis. He held baby Icarus in his arms, wrapped in a thin blue cloth, the latter's eyes darting left and right as if he were curious about this new place with high ceilings he was brought into.
Marble statues of all twelve gods lined the walls—Zeus with his thunderbolt, Hera holding a scepter, Poseidon's trident carved from pure granite, Athena stood with her shield, Apollo gleamed with his lyre, etc…
In the very center, on a raised stone dais of obsidian, rested a bow taller than a man, unlike any forged by mortals.
It was silver-dark, nearly black, with veins of gold running through it like lightning frozen in time. The string shimmered with a strange energy, taut and still, though no hand had drawn it in several millennia.
Damonis approached the center, footsteps slowing. He set Icarus carefully on his hip and ran a gentle finger over the bow's grip.
"This," he whispered to Icarus, "is where our blood began to matter, Icarus."
The baby blinked, sucking softly on his thumb.
Damonis smiled faintly as he explained. "Long ago, our house was just a name among many. We were one of the vassal lords of Achaea. But when the Titans broke from Tartarus, and war came again to the gods, there stood a man named Laerti, our ancestor."
He looked at the bow, tapping the bow's handle as he continued. "He was just a vassal king of a tiny region in the hills—but he rode beside Athena into the flames. He saved Ares from the jaws of Atlas himself. And for that, Zeus gave him a gift… not just any weapon, but the very bow once wielded by Cronus, father of the sky-lords. The Bow of Aegis."
The baby squirmed.
"And so we come, little one," Damonis whispered, "to seek its blessing upon you."
He lifted Icarus so the baby could peer at the golden string. "Go on," he murmured. "Touch it, if you feel you must."
With tiny fingers, Icarus reached forward. His small fingers curled around the string, and he tugged once, lightly, almost shyly. The bow trembled and gave a faint hum as if it called out.
King Damonis' moved back in reflex, pulling the baby into his embrace, only to witness its movement.
Damonis's breath caught, a frown appearing on his face. "What in—?"
To his astonishment, the whole bow slid from its cradle, hovering inches in the air. Icarus's eyes also widened in delight as the weapon glowed softly, veins of gold pulsing. His mouth opened, burst out into laughter of excitement.
No one touched it—no priest, no pulley, no magic circle. The massive weapon rose into the air as though summoned by an unseen hand. Its light grew brighter, golden veins flaring like sunrays.
Damonis' mouth also fell open, but in shock and disbelief. "By the Gods…"
Icarus gave a little giggle. The child's hand was still extended, fingers curling playfully.
And then, just as suddenly, his grip slipped and the bow dropped.
CRACK!
It slammed back into the stone with a deafening crash. The entire temple shook. Dust fell from the ceiling. Cracks rippled across the marble dais like spiderwebs. Outside, pigeons scattered into the sky as a low rumble rolled through the city—a mild quake beneath the earth, enough to rattle pots and awaken goats.
Laerti stumbled, shielding Icarus against his chest. The child let out a startled cry, but was unharmed. He hugged him close, heart hammering. "Are you all right?" he asked, voice shaking.
Icarus gurgled happily in response.
Priests came running from the inner sanctum, panic in their faces. "Your Majesty! Are you hurt?"
Damonis didn't answer right away. He was staring at the cracked slab, where the mighty Bow of Aegis now lay once more, as still as stone.
"Icarus…" he whispered, holding the baby away from his chest to look him in the eye. "What did you do, little one?"
Icarus just cooed and reached for his father's beard.
Damonis turned slowly to the priests, his voice quiet but firm. "Send word to the oracles. Summon the keepers of the old myths. My son has just lifted the bow. I need to know his fate, right now."
One of the priests looked between the baby and the shattered dais, his eyes widened as he commented. "It's impossible. Only a Titan or an Olympian God can lift that bow alone."
Damonis stared at his son in silence, his heart pounding nervously. "O' Mother Goddess Gaia, what could be the reason for you to send such a divine child into my life?"
A few months later, more than three thousand kilometers away from Achaea, in the city of Athens, Aetherian Kingdom;
A middle-aged man was seen moving back and forth in the corridor lying before the Queen's room. He is Pyranthos, King of the Aetherian Kingdom/Athens—a mortal human who was already nearing 50.
Time to time, his eyes shift to the door, which remains shut, tense look in his eyes was evident. However, the screams and the cries could be heard from behind that door.
Eventually, a piercing scream passed through the walls before multiple cries of babies were heard, relief breaking across King Pyranthos' face like sunlight.
When the doors finally opened, Queen Mother Acantha walked out with two babies in her arms, one wrapped in white and the other in blue cloth. The babies were no longer seen crying but fell asleep.
Pyranthos rushed forward and snatched the babies from his wife, as if he couldn't wait anymore to look at their faces.
"Name your children, Pyranthos. Until you do, we can't show the face to their mother." Queen Mother urged him as he just stared at the babies with a goofy smile on his face, but in silence.
He affectionately brushed his fingers over the baby wrapped in blue cloth, the eldest twin. "I still remember the gods informing me that the moon goddess herself would be reincarnated as my eldest child. My daughter, my moonlight, I will give you the name you held in your previous life, too. Your name will be Selene, the daughter of Pyranthos, and the heiress to the throne of Athens."
The Queen Mother furrowed her brows upon listening to those words.