In the shadows of the lower world known as Erebos lived two brothers of great importance, the gods of death and sleep: Thanatos and Hypnos. In the sleepy twilight world in which they lived, the gentle guardians of dreams and death watched the world of man from below. Thanatos and Hypnos were twins, born to Nyx, goddess of the night; though twins, they did not look very much alike. Hypnos was youthful with dark curls, while Thanatos looked to be an older man with ashy blond hair. Though they did share two traits, pale skin that bordered on a rather morose shade of grey and hazy violet eyes that could punctuate the veil of fog and dusk in the lower lands. Very few ...view middle of the document...
Marriages and ties to other noble families did not plague her thoughts half as much as philosophies and the sciences did, but what use is a noble girl outside the thoughts marriage, or negotiations of marriage, or the very establishment of marriage? Her parents Anatolius and Olympias, king and queen of Epirus, did not seem to question the natural order of things, and so that answer was left at a blank.
Athanasia, however, never stopped thinking of this question. As she lay in her bed cradled in silk linens, squinting out across the horizon of faded pale and dark blues, she pondered this and many more. Her mind was her solace, her library, and her own best friend. Within she held private conversations, hushed within her quiet moments of peace. Athanasia believed she was a dreamer; with a recollection of memories that had never happened, and plans that would never come to be. It saddened her to think, even if it was the truth, that forever she would be stuck in her own mind, with no other to speak her thought out loud too. It seemed as though she were stuck, a little pearl cramped inside a rugged shell. There were no other means of escape but within her dreams.
It was at that moment that Thanatos held the very same thought in his ever-expanding mind. Lying atop a chaise under the dusty glow of an open window, he though of the dream he had just had. It was completely dark, (a phenomenon with his nocturnal eyes), there was a voice; singular and clear, ringing through the darkness. Forward and forward he went, a compulsion of the body, but every step he took the voice receded some. No matter how far he walked, he could not reach the voice, a voice he had not recognized in any way, yet he still followed. At the end, the voice was gone completely, faded into oblivion. By the end of the dream, Thanatos was filled with a confusing mix of hollowness, longing, and bitter sadness that he did not understand, but he did know one feeling that was easily recognizable to him: loneliness.
Thantos knew he could not tell his brother dream, even for the benefit of his sage advice on the matter of unraveling it, Hypnos could not know the secret longing he felt inside. He stood and passed another chaise where his brother lay deep within a dream, his face a mask of beautiful serenity. Thanatos felt the bitterness shoot through his veins again. His brother was a beautiful youth, and had he ever chosen to leave their home, Thanatos was sure he would be as favored as the one Apollo. Thanatos was not an old man, as far as the physical was concerned, but held the strength and sturdiness of an older man, but was not all shine and glory as Zeus and Poseidon. There was nothing appealing about death; the kindest compliment he had received was that his voice was calm and gentle, and that it could make anyone at ease.
He sighed heavy and deeply, rubbing the side of his jaw as he thought and walked on, entering hall after gilded hall, a obsidian palace where shadows...