it wasn’t supposed to be ozias.
between him and his brother solomon, he was the least fit of the two for the path of demigodhood. solomon was a hero. he was an intellectual. he had his life all figured out, awards in his name, and wealth one could only dream of. he was liked and handsome and nothing like his younger brother.
and yet he was here.
ozias the troublesome.
ozias the deficient.
ozias the despised.
ozias the disappointment.
ozias the embarrassment.
they had been outside, solomon chiding him for his aimlessness in life when the two had been dazzled by a ray of golden light. perhaps it’d been his greed or even his jealousy that flared within his blood, screaming for him to push his brother away from the blessed light and he did. he shoved the perfect one straight into the gaudy grecian fountain of his perfect gardens and basked in it all alone.
ozias peered into the goblet, the memory of his calling on the forefront of his mind as he watched the shimmering liquid dance. did he belong here? yes---a small part of his mind assured him, but the irrational part of him insisted he didn’t. “doesn’t matter,” he muses under his breath. if he was, he’ll survive and he if didn’t, well... then, he’ll be doing his family a favor and sparing them any further humiliation.
he raises the goblet to his mouth, the disappointed voices of his family washing over his years as the ambrosia breaches his lips. it might have not been meant for him but, he was going to make this his.
fuck anyone who thought otherwise.
suck it, solomon.
this was ozias’ shit now.