Olympia: Chronicles of Chaos, #1

Chapter 1

GOLDEN LAURELS

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

She sat cross-legged on a chair, staring at the golden temple around her. The fluted Corinthian columns, the gilded floor and walls, and the light reflecting on everything turned the whole place into a palace of golden rays. Apollo’s temple sparkled, especially in the evening, when the last rays of the sun draped themselves over the roofs and pushed through the crevices of worn rock. Abandoned, it had been the hiding place of light. Restored, it was the home of the sun. Jasmin tucked her knees under her peplos. Held back by her laurels, her long braids framed her face, the dark black turning into gold at the ends.

Tell me again? her companion asked, and she turned her head to look at the man beside her.

He sat on the edge of his seat, holding a scroll in his hand. His chiton was rumpled and covered in ink stains from his pen, but he hardly seemed to notice or care. They looked like siblings: the same frown, the same perplexed expression, but the man was taller, with a Greek nose instead of Jasmin’s softer one, and he had golden eyes unlike her dark ones. His godly aura shone through his eyes.

He looked at her, waiting for her answer. With his brows furrowed, he tapped his finger against the edge of his knee, his chiton pushed to the side. His sandals bounced nervously on the mosaic beneath them, gold and blue pieces sparkling in the bright light.

Did you sleep last night? Jasmin asked.

Apollo’s eyes fluttered closed. No. Did you?

She shook her head and then cleared her throat. No. I was in the archives all night.

He tilted his head to the side. You were busier than I was. Did you find anything?

I already told you everything I know.

We’re missing something. We have to be.

The tapping on his knee grew more insistent; Jasmin reached out and placed a hand on his.

Stop that. It’s not in any of our books of prophecy–maybe it’s because it’s in another script? A mistranslation of one of our Greek prophecies?

He made a noncommittal sound Jasmin found off-putting for the god. He was more worried than she had first thought. Usually confident, usually assured...the fact this prophecy rattled him concerned her more than the prophecy itself.

It is a real one, I think. An Oracle spoke it. There’s just no reason for one and no precedent for a prophecy like this.

Because it was unprovoked or because it wasn’t in Greek?

One does not rule out the other, Jasmin. I haven’t trained Aelia in giving prophecies yet, which concerns me greatly. It is a taxing skill and to deliver a polished prophecy... Aelia shouldn’t have been able to. Are you aware how long it’s been since the last prophecy?

Bout a thousand years, give or take.

Ever since the destruction, there’s been no demand for it. Mortals don’t remember the Oracles and they were the majority of the prophecy-seekers.

You’re saying we’re an obsolete profession? Jasmin tried to laugh.

If you were obsolete, I wouldn’t be here, would I?

A golden ray bounced off his head and blinded Jasmin momentarily. He waved a hand over his head and the light dissipated into a fine mist of gold.

My apologies, Apollo sighed. I should have seen that coming.

It’s fine. Reminded me of the time Aelia ran into—

A wall. I felt terrible about that. I thought I had control of my sun domain when I attempted to teach you all that day, but I was mistaken.

That doesn’t help us with the prophecy, though. Jasmin returned her attention to the scroll. All we know is it’s not regular.

It does not help us at all, Apollo agreed, looking down at the paper. He trailed the bumpy ink with his pinky, a pen loosely held between his two first fingers. Maybe I’ve forgotten something…perhaps a piece of my prophetic domain still has not returned to me. I am still more mortal than I should be.

You haven’t forgotten anything, Jasmin said reassuringly. You trained me and I passed all the Oracle tests. It’s not your fault the prophecy’s messed up.

Isn’t it? I’m a god. I’m supposed to be omniscient and all-powerful.

Chaos surely has a reason for what he does, Jasmin assured him. You’ve gotten all your other domains back. Just got to give it time and let your Oracles work things out in the meantime.

You questioned Aelia thoroughly?

She told me everything she knows.

Where is she now?

With Phoebe. They’re playing chess.

Apollo bounced his knee and twisted his chiton in his free hand, offering Jasmin a weak smile. Good. Giving a prophecy can be exhausting.

She’s doing okay, promise.

Jasmin watched his hand fall to his side. His knee stilled; the prophecy fell to the ground. In a swift movement, he retrieved it, folding it in half and tucking his pen behind his ear.

Don’t worry. Phoebe would get us if anything was wrong.

We should translate into Greek to start, Apollo said. And check the archives again. It can’t be a new prophecy.

You’re the god of prophecy. You’d think you would know.

For that sass, maybe I should make you do all the translating.

I’d do a better job than you.

He scoffed, throwing his head back. Read it again for me.

She raised an eyebrow. Again?

Yes.

She pulled the scroll out of his hands and unfolded it. It will be the heroes’ change, the oath broken unpunished, the fate of Olympia sealed in the choice of loyalty.

It sounds like one of the prophecies of destruction. Book nine in the archives, I think.

Aren’t they all? Out of the thousands of prophecies you’ve made me study, I’m pretty sure they were all end-of-the-world ones.

He shrugged gracefully. It is hardly my concern that mortals seek guidance in times of extreme danger to the world. It’s a peculiar human trait. They’re perfectly content to ignore us any other time.

Well, it doesn’t match any of the old ones, Jasmin drew out the words.

Did I forget to record one?

No, you didn’t. Jasmin rolled her eyes. You were very thorough.

She saw Apollo slump in his seat and stare at the scroll. He ran an inky hand through his hair, brushing it to the side. He appeared infuriated. She understood. Having a piece of his powers out of reach could not be easy for someone accustomed to the unlimited powers of a god.

’It will be the heroes’ change.’ That has to refer to me and the other heroes, right? Triniya and North, Jasmin suggested, ignoring the sullen look he threw at her. She had been one of Apollo’s oracles for decades now. His moods did not surprise her.

That dates the prophecy, Apollo pointed out. It could, but it could also refer to any heroes ever, or maybe no heroes at all. Perhaps it refers to demigods or just the members of one of the followings.

You’re overthinking. We could just assume it means me and Triniya.

I am not. Prophecies are fickle, you know that. I taught you that.

How about you come up with a solution, then, Jasmin grumbled, throwing the scroll at his head.

He caught it and tucked it into the belt of his chiton.

What fun would that be? Apollo gave her a half-hearted grin. I have half a hundred oracles in my temple, all itching for some real-world practice.

You’re going to make us do the heavy lifting?

There are perks to being a god, Jasmin. I could just order all of you to do it—or I could use this as a teaching moment. Maybe a prize at the end?

I’ll do it for a good prize, she said, emphasizing her words. If we figure it out, what do we get?

I will show you how to ride phoenixes. And all lessons are suspended while you try to figure it out.

We’re so going to win this! Jasmin cheered and ran out before Apollo could clarify there was no contest.

He shook his head, laughing quietly, and looked back at the scroll smudged in the ink from Jasmin’s hands.

Jasmin ran out of the temple, through the sun-filled courtyard, and into the temple complex where the Oracles spent their free time. She rushed through the golden halls into the library where she knew most of them would be. The room was darker, but the figures of several girls hovered in the candlelight, the white of their peploi glimmering like moonlight on the bank of a river.

Gals! Gals, I’ve got a task for us! she yelled, waving her hands in the air.

All activities stopped. Those who had been practicing instruments put them away hurriedly, slamming cello and violin cases shut in their excitement. Art books and paintings were hastily put to the side or tucked into large crates of materials. Chess, card games, and books were cleaned up, and the table was cleared of all items. Within minutes, all of their activities were shoved into closets, never to be cleaned up properly. More candles were hastily lit.

Jasmin’s energy was contagious. Soon, all the Oracles were whispering in excitement while Jasmin bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting for them to be ready for her announcement.

Everyone’s listening, Jaz! Hurry up and tell us what we’re doing! someone shouted from the back of the table. The whispering stopped.

Don’t call me Jaz! Everyone, give me a drumroll, please!

The girls thumped their feet against the soft carpet and hit their hands against the table for several seconds, until Jasmin held a hand up again.

I have a prophecy for us to find, she announced.

A new one? Aelia’s? Phoebe asked from the end of the table.

That one.

The whispers resumed at full force. No one had ever worked with a prophecy before; not since mortals stopped asking for them.

What do we have to do with it?

We have to figure out which prophecy it is. It’s somewhere in the archives, but we’re not sure where. We’ll split up into groups. Half of us will translate it into Greek and the other half will look through all our records. If we figure it out… She paused for dramatic effect as all the Oracles leaned in, tense with excitement.

What? one of them asked, unable to bear the minute of silent anticipation. There was a scattering of laughter.

Apollo has agreed to teach us how to ride phoenixes, Jasmin finished.

Cheers erupted among the members at the table. Phoebe led a chorus of claps and whistles. Several people began chanting, Phoenixes! Phoenixes!

Tell us the prophecy then! Aelia shouted once the excitement died. Her request launched another round of laughter.

You already know it, Aelia!

Everyone ready? Jasmin exclaimed over the noise.

The room fell quiet again. She gave herself a mental pat on the back for being able to command the other Oracles so well. Jasmin was still new to being a leader and a hero, but she was glad to see her fellow Oracles respected her.

’It will be the heroes’ change, the oath broken unpunished, the fate of Olympia sealed in the choice of loyalty.’

The Oracles scribbled it down on spare scraps of paper or on their peploi or hands.

Task starts now. She took a seat at the table. Right side, translate. Left side, archives.

They started talking amongst themselves, comparing definitions and terms. Jasmin didn’t write or think about it; instead, she surveyed the other Oracles and listened to their whispered conversations or enthusiastic declarations and questions. She only caught snatches, but they were enough.

Heroes. Does it mean the heroes of the gods? You and Triniya and Sophia?

Do we know when it’s happening?

Is Olympia going to fall?

Don’t be dramatic, all prophecies are doomsday poems. It always turns out okay.

Except that one time when Athens fell. That didn’t turn out so great.

That was hardly the prophecy’s fault. If they hadn’t been so stupid-

Everyone’s stupid, we know that.

People get to break oaths?

Why aren’t the oaths being upheld?

Who can go unpunished for breaking one?

Hang on! Aelia shouted from one chair at the table. Everyone shut up!

You think you figured something out? Jasmin asked.

Oh— Aelia blinked. No. Not about the prophecy. It’s just easier to think when it’s quiet.

You all have the prophecy. You don’t have to stay here, guys. We’ll meet tomorrow morning and see if anyone’s figured anything out, Jasmin offered.

What about classes? I have a violin lesson tomorrow morning, Phoebe asked.

Jasmin facepalmed. I forgot to mention. Classes are canceled until we figure out the prophecy.

Hell yeah! Phoebe exclaimed. She reached over the table and grabbed Giulia’s hand. You’re working with me; come on. Let’s get to the archives.

Following her lead, the other girls teamed up and filed out of the room, laughing and jumping up and down. Their noise echoed in the library long after they were gone. Jasmin waited until they left before she stood up and stretched her arms above her head.

Take that, Apollo.

It was slow progress. Jasmin had hoped to have a translation the next morning, but several meetings occurred before any progress was made. Most of the first few days had been taken up by the same possibilities Jasmin and Apollo had already disregarded together, like it being an old prophecy or there being a mistake in the records.

Aelia was the first one to offer an idea neither the Oracle of Delphi nor the god had yet thought of.

What if it’s not in our prophecy archives? she began. It’s different because no one requested a prophecy and it’s not in standard form. All good reasons to think it could be older than the records.

Jasmin raised an eyebrow at her, intrigued. What do you mean? The records stretch back to the first Oracle of Delphi.

Well, yeah. Aelia shrugged. But what about the Cretan oracles? Do we still have all of their prophecies?

Well, yeah, they’re in the stone courtyard, Jasmin said nonchalantly and paused. Are you saying we’ve been looking at this wrong the whole time?

Aelia nodded and waved her piece of paper in front of Jasmin’s nose. I spent a long time trying to figure out how to decipher a special prophecy, and I couldn’t. But then, I decided to go further back.

And? Jasmin leaned closer, waiting for the answer, excited for it, fire running through every nerve in her body. She started glowing a little, her skin darkening to emphasize the light coming from it, and Aelia grinned.

I couldn’t get that far. She shrugged. I’m not as well-trained as some of you, and I still haven’t covered all the forms of prophecies. I also don’t read Linear A-

But I do! Phoebe interrupted. I can take a look!

Jasmin scribbled the discovery down quickly in her notebook. Hey, that’s farther than any of us have gotten and it’s been more than a week. Nice job, Aelia. You definitely earned those phoenix- riding lessons. You make the Oracles proud.

Aelia glowed at the praise. She stood up a little straighter and swished her hair back, letting her beaded earrings dangle dramatically. Her eyes roamed over the other girls, all dressed identically in gold and white. The same bracelets, woven with precious gems, jingled on their hands; the same gold bands held their hair back. Aelia’s hazel eyes winked at those on the other side of the room.

I’m going to name mine Spark, she declared before heading back to sit with Phoebe. A few laughs followed her declaration, but most of the Oracles buzzed with excitement about the advances on the prophecy.

That’s a great name. Jasmin grinned. I think that wraps up today’s meeting, huh? Now that we have an idea of where to find the prophecy, I bet we can figure it out by tomorrow. Let’s go, team!

Jasmin dismissed the meeting, chuckling when they all took the right hallway towards the stone courtyard. Generally neglected as old oddities with no use, the Cretan stones had gathered dust in their yard since before the fall of Olympia. She felt the ground tremble with the heavy thuds of all their footsteps and then took the opposite hallway towards Apollo’s garden. She had to inform him about their progress. The hallway led into several connecting libraries and temple buildings, which she passed through without a second glance, searching for Apollo with no luck. She stepped outside the last of the libraries and turned towards the gardens. She stopped for a moment to smell the blooming honeysuckle that crawled over the walls and stuck its yellow blooms into every corner it could. Apollo sat in a corner of the garden, twirling a pen in his hand.

She hurried over. He didn’t move, but he did hear her walking closer. She could tell the exact moment her footsteps became audible because he put his scroll down and turned his head to look at her.

Same results as yesterday? he guessed.

Maybe your prophetic abilities are broken, Jasmin said giddily. She knew that wasn’t how prophecy abilities worked, but she couldn’t resist making the joke. He propped himself up more on his couch and chuckled, waiting for her explanation. We did figure something out.

He scrambled to his feet, almost tripping over his chiton. There’s progress? he asked in amazement.

Aelia, actually. She suggested we’ve been looking in the wrong place and I think she might be right. Jasmin explained what had occurred in the meeting. They’re all in the courtyard right now.

She is smart. Talented, brilliant—she is definitely correct. Apollo straightened, lifting his chin up. The circumstance of the prophecy’s delivery was not of as much importance as I granted it.

Don’t beat yourself up about it too much. Jasmin grinned. You’ve got us for a reason.

The best Oracles I have ever had. He smiled.

I bet we’ll have it all figured out for you by tomorrow.

I do not doubt it. I guess I should go collect some phoenixes. Apollo rubbed the bridge of his nose. This place is going to be a lot less peaceful.

The next morning's meeting went even better. The Oracles had all come with their own decryptions of the prophecy and copies of Minoan poems, and over the course of three hours, the group compared them, analyzed translations, threw parts away, kept others, and together, worked to craft a finalized version using pieces of all their different translations.

I think we got it, Jasmin said once the last word had been scribbled in.

The piece of scroll was incredibly inky and messy. There were scribbled-out and circled words, and words written in bolder fonts to emphasize them. Signatures and multiple translations were scribbled in the margins. Ink stains had made their way from the page onto the girls’ clothing and hands. At the bottom of the page, boxed and underlined, stood their final work.

It was beautiful, she thought, as they all stared at their hard work for a moment. Prophecies were beautiful.

We made that, Aelia breathed.

We didn't make it, Phoebe whispered in awe. We translated a prophecy. A prophecy. I can't believe we wrote a prophecy.

It's insane, someone added.

"It's