MTL NOVEL Chapter 7: Chapter 7: The Bonds of Divinity
### Chapter 7: The Bonds of Divinity
The sun hung low over the horizon, painting the mortal village in hues of gold and amber as Apollo stood amidst the throng of awestruck villagers. His golden curls shimmered like molten sunlight, cascading over his flawless face, and his crystallized jewel-blue eyes gleamed with a divine intensity that made the air itself hum with reverence. The Oracle of Delphi was secure, Python's ashes scattered to the winds, and the whispers of his name were spreading—yet his work was far from over. The system's voice chimed in his mind, crisp and insistent, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd:
"Objective updated: Befriend more followers. Current faith nodes: 187. Target: 300 within one lunar cycle. Recommendation: expand mortal alliances, amplify divine presence. Influence radius: 800 miles—potential for exponential growth detected."
Apollo's lips curved into a faint, godly smile, his beauty radiating like a beacon. "More followers, you say? Easy enough."
The village—a modest cluster of stone huts and wooden carts nestled against a riverbank—buzzed with life as the mortals gathered around him. Fishermen with weathered hands, women clutching baskets of bread and olives, children peering from behind their parents' legs—all drawn by the tales of the radiant god who'd felled a serpent and claimed the future itself. He stepped forward, his bare feet igniting the earth with faint sparks of Fire and Radiance, and raised his hands, his voice weaving through the air like a melody born of Sound and Inspiration.
"I am Apollo," he declared, his tone a perfect blend of Harmony and Divinity, resonating in their bones. "Your light, your guide, your sun. I've come not to rule you, but to lift you. Share your lives with me, and I'll share my power with you."
The villagers gasped, their eyes wide with wonder, and a grizzled old man stepped forward, his hands trembling as he offered a carved wooden flute. "Lord Apollo," he rasped, "we're simple folk. What can we give a god?"
Apollo tilted his head, his golden curls catching the fading light, and took the flute with a grace that made the gesture seem sacred. "Your faith," he said, his jewel-blue eyes locking onto the man's. "Your songs. Your trust. That's enough."
He lifted the flute to his lips and played—a single note, pure and piercing, infused with Music and Beauty. The sound rippled outward, mending a cracked cartwheel, soothing a crying child, and igniting a warmth in their hearts they couldn't name. The villagers fell to their knees, tears streaming down their faces, and the system chimed:
"Faith nodes increased: 195. Devotion saturation: 97% within immediate vicinity."
A young woman approached next, her dark hair braided with wildflowers, her hands clutching a clay bowl of honey. "Lord Apollo, will you stay with us?" she asked, her voice trembling with hope.
He smiled, his beauty softening for her, his domain of Purity shining through. "For a time," he replied. "Long enough to know you, to hear you. Build me a place—a simple shrine—and I'll bless it with my light."
She nodded eagerly, and the villagers sprang into action, gathering stones and wood, their voices rising in a chant that echoed his name. Apollo watched, his jewel-blue eyes glinting with satisfaction. These mortals weren't just followers—they were his foundation, a tide of faith that would carry him higher.
---
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the village in twilight, a silver shimmer flickered at the edge of his vision. Artemis stepped from the shadows, her lithe form clad in a tunic of moonlight-woven thread, her silver bow slung across her back. Her silver eyes—sharp and wild—met his, and a faint smirk tugged at her lips. She'd been hunting, her presence marked by the faint scent of pine and the quiet strength of the wilderness. The villagers paused, their awe doubling as they beheld the twin gods, sun and moon united in their midst.
"Sister," Apollo greeted, his voice a playful lilt of Sound and Charm. "Come to see me win hearts?"
Artemis crossed her arms, her silver hair glinting under the rising stars. "I came to see if you'd trip over your own radiance, brother. You're loud, even for a god."
He chuckled, a sound like a melody woven from sunlight and steel. "Loud is effective. Look at them—they adore me already."
She glanced at the villagers, who'd resumed their work on the shrine, their hands moving with a fervor that bordered on worship. "They do," she admitted, her tone softening. "You've got a gift for this—drawing them in, making them yours. It's… impressive."
"High praise from the Huntress," he teased, stepping closer, his golden curls brushing his shoulders. "But it's not just mortals I'm after. We're more than this, Artemis—more than shrines and villages. We're Olympians by blood. Don't you feel it?"
She tilted her head, her silver eyes narrowing as she studied him. "Olympus," she said slowly, tasting the word. "You want to climb the mountain, meet Father face-to-face, claim our place among the Twelve?"
"Not just claim it," he corrected, his jewel-blue eyes blazing with ambition. "Define it. We're not minor gods, sister. I've got Prophecy, War, Knowledge—thirty-five domains and counting. You've got the Hunt, the Moon, the wilds. Together, we could reshape the pantheon, make it ours."
Artemis's smirk returned, sharper now. "Bold words. Hera's already fuming—Python was her pet, you know. She'll hate us more if we storm Olympus."
"Let her hate," he replied, his voice dropping to a godly growl of War and Courage. "I've faced her serpent and turned it to ash. I'll face her wrath and turn it to nothing. We're Zeus's blood, Artemis. Olympus is our birthright."
She stepped closer, her silver presence a counterpoint to his gold, and for a moment, their twin bond flared—rivalry laced with unity. "You're not wrong," she said, her tone conspiratorial. "I've felt it too—the pull of the mountain, the call of something bigger. Father's watching, I'd wager. He'll want to see what we're made of."
"Then let's show him," Apollo said, his golden curls catching the starlight as he grinned. "We go to Olympus, sister. We meet Zeus, we claim our thrones, and we become true gods—not just in name, but in power. The mortals will sing of us, the gods will fear us, and the world will know us."
Artemis nodded, her silver eyes glinting with a wild resolve. "Together, then. But don't think I'll let you outshine me, brother."
He laughed, a sound of pure Harmony and Joy. "I'd never dream of it. The sun and moon shine best as equals."
---
Unbeknownst to them, high above on Mount Olympus, Zeus had heard every word. Hidden within the storm clouds that cloaked his throne, he'd bent his domain of Sky and Thunder to eavesdrop, his eagle perched silently at his side. The twins' voices carried to him through the winds, their ambition ringing clear as a bell, and a broad, godly smirk spread across his face, his gray eyes sparking with lightning.
"My children," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the marble halls. "Apollo and Artemis—sun and moon, fire and silver. They're plotting to storm my mountain, are they? Ha! Good. Let them come."
He leaned back, his massive hands resting on his throne, his beard shimmering with the faint glow of stormlight. The idea of his twin offspring—born of Leto's defiance, forged in Hera's wrath—ascending to Olympus filled him with a fierce, fatherly pride. Apollo's radiance, Artemis's wildness—they were his blood, his legacy, and they burned with a hunger that mirrored his own when he'd toppled the Titans.
"They want to be true gods," he mused, his smirk widening. "Not just Olympians, but shapers of the divine order. Bold, brash, beautiful—just like their father."
His eagle let out a sharp cry, and Zeus nodded, as if in agreement. "They'll face Hera's fury, Poseidon's envy, Athena's tests—but they'll rise. I'll see to it. The pantheon needs fresh blood, and mine runs thick in them."
He rose from his throne, his towering form crackling with power, and the clouds parted to reveal the mortal world below. He could see them—Apollo with his golden curls and jewel-blue eyes, Artemis with her silver bow and fierce grace—standing amidst the village, their presence a beacon that drew mortals like moths to flame. The shrine was nearly complete, its stones glowing with Apollo's blessing, and the villagers' chants rose higher, a hymn of devotion that tickled Zeus's ears.
"They'll come to me," he said, his voice a thunderous promise. "And when they do, I'll welcome them—not as children, but as gods. Let Hera rage. Let the others scheme. My twins will shine, and Olympus will tremble."
---
Back in the village, Apollo and Artemis stood shoulder to shoulder, the night sky stretching above them like a canvas of stars. The villagers had finished the shrine—a simple structure of stacked stones and woven reeds, adorned with flowers and shells—and Apollo stepped forward, his golden curls glinting as he raised a hand. Light flared from his palm, a cascade of Radiance and Divinity that bathed the shrine in a glow that rivaled the moon. The air hummed with his power, and the villagers fell silent, their breath stolen by the sight.
"It's yours," he said, turning to them, his jewel-blue eyes warm yet commanding. "A place to call me, to know me. I'm your god, your friend, your light. Together, we'll rise."
A cheer erupted, raw and heartfelt, and the system chimed:
"Faith nodes: 210. Influence radius: 900 miles. Mortal alliance strengthened."
Artemis smirked, nudging him with her elbow. "You're good at this, I'll give you that."
He grinned, his beauty dazzling even in the dark. "We're good at this, sister. Olympus awaits us."
They stood together, sun and moon, gold and silver, their eyes fixed on the distant peak of the divine mountain. The mortals chanted their names, the system tracked their growing power, and Zeus watched from above, his smirk a promise of what was to come. Apollo's golden curls danced in the breeze, Artemis's silver bow gleamed, and the twins burned with a godly fire that would soon set the heavens ablaze. The path to Olympus was open, and they would walk it—together, unstoppable, divine.