Home
Gallery
Search
Register
Log in
by The Zeus cabin had changed. A lot.
Aria remembered the way it looked back in the early 1700s, when it had been referred to as the Zeus pavilion or the Zeus mansion. Built out of flawless white marble, supported by gold-painted columns, it was styled exactly like an ancient Greek temple, with heavy but finely wrought bronze door and royal blue tiles. Several stories high, with large windows, separate sleeping quarters for the boys and the girls, boudoirs, a huge salon and more balconies than she could count. A pleasure garden had wrapped around the imposing building, set with eagle-shaped fountains, blooming flowerbeds and paths of pale marble.
Today, despite being the most impressive cabin, it still lacked magnificence in Aria's eyes. It looked like an American bank, not a home to the children of the King of gods himself.
Closing her eyes, she put a hand on a column and remembered when she had used to live here, not as a Hunter but as a demigod, barely out of childhood. She remembered walking through the pleasure gardens, as always dressed in the latest fashion with mantuas, embroidered stomachers, delicate petticoats, lace-trimmed sleeves and huge skirts of silk or rich brocade. She'd often wear gowns of darker fabric back then because of the fashion established by Madame de Maintenon, the favorite of Louis XIV at the French court, mostly dark blue, green or purple. Her hair would've been pinned up with jewels or she'd be wearing a fashionable wig, walking down the paths twirling a delicate umbrella between her fingers or holding a silk fan in floral motives.
Those days were long gone... so long. It felt like a dream to her now, three hundred years later. Where had it all gone? The girl who had walked here in ruched dresses and boutonnières in her hair was so utterly different from who she was now it felt like they were from different worlds. Back then she had been Atalanta of Monmouth. Now she was just Aria.
The apparently 14-years-old Hunter turned away from the building and stepped down the stairs with agility. She was wearing a grey camouflage outfit with combat boots, her onyx-black hair, cut by a white streak, done into a braid. Her two hunting knives were sheathed at her sides, ready for her to take them out at the first occasion.
Aria remembered the way it looked back in the early 1700s, when it had been referred to as the Zeus pavilion or the Zeus mansion. Built out of flawless white marble, supported by gold-painted columns, it was styled exactly like an ancient Greek temple, with heavy but finely wrought bronze door and royal blue tiles. Several stories high, with large windows, separate sleeping quarters for the boys and the girls, boudoirs, a huge salon and more balconies than she could count. A pleasure garden had wrapped around the imposing building, set with eagle-shaped fountains, blooming flowerbeds and paths of pale marble.
Today, despite being the most impressive cabin, it still lacked magnificence in Aria's eyes. It looked like an American bank, not a home to the children of the King of gods himself.
Closing her eyes, she put a hand on a column and remembered when she had used to live here, not as a Hunter but as a demigod, barely out of childhood. She remembered walking through the pleasure gardens, as always dressed in the latest fashion with mantuas, embroidered stomachers, delicate petticoats, lace-trimmed sleeves and huge skirts of silk or rich brocade. She'd often wear gowns of darker fabric back then because of the fashion established by Madame de Maintenon, the favorite of Louis XIV at the French court, mostly dark blue, green or purple. Her hair would've been pinned up with jewels or she'd be wearing a fashionable wig, walking down the paths twirling a delicate umbrella between her fingers or holding a silk fan in floral motives.
Those days were long gone... so long. It felt like a dream to her now, three hundred years later. Where had it all gone? The girl who had walked here in ruched dresses and boutonnières in her hair was so utterly different from who she was now it felt like they were from different worlds. Back then she had been Atalanta of Monmouth. Now she was just Aria.
The apparently 14-years-old Hunter turned away from the building and stepped down the stairs with agility. She was wearing a grey camouflage outfit with combat boots, her onyx-black hair, cut by a white streak, done into a braid. Her two hunting knives were sheathed at her sides, ready for her to take them out at the first occasion.
