POV: Aphrodite
Fate doesn't knock. It tears open doors.
The path stretches ahead of us, impossibly real despite its impossible origin. Ancient stone beneath overgrowth that parts as we approach, moonlight illuminating our way despite the afternoon sun overhead. The contradiction should be jarring—silver light where gold belongs—but instead it feels natural, like the path exists in its own pocket of reality where normal rules bend without breaking.
I should be terrified. Should be questioning my sanity for leading my family down a magical path that materialized from nowhere. Every rational part of my human upbringing screams warnings, insisting that mysterious paths appearing out of thin air lead only to danger and regret.
Instead, I feel certain. More certain than I've felt about anything in weeks. The certainty sits in my chest like a glowing coal, warm and steady, radiating conviction through every nerve.
This is right. This is where we're supposed to go.
