And The Rest Goes To . . . My Hippocampus?

I carefully brought my shaking hand onto the yellowing parchment. The large calligraphy at the crown of the paper read Last Will and Testament.

 It was no secret that I would soon become a mortal, not for a myriad of reasons, but for one enormous one. I was diagnosed with Euphorium Aglacia Dernis, a harmful disease that slowly drives away all immortality from gods. 

The quill connected with the old paper, and in circular, swirling motions, I inscribed the words, “I, Chantara, goddess of waterfalls, give my last will and testament of being immortal.” 

I wasn’t confident in knowing what to write, for elemental gods are meant to live forever, not become a foolish mortal at the age of 25,000 decades.

 I continue to write, saying, “I give 250,185 gold wreaths to my husband, Agni, the god of wildfire. I bestow my palace to my daughter, Alinta, and my pure, white stallion to my son, Bourne, along with my golden chariot. I give 200,000 silver wreaths to my forever friend, Pietro, the god of sculpture. And I give the rest of my fortune to my hippocampus, Conch.” 

I closed my eyes, took a deep, shaky breath, and signed the parchment, my name glimmering as the sun reflected off of the ink through the large window pane. I could have named plenty of people that would not be happy with the scroll, but nonetheless, I rolled the paper into a tight cylinder, and placed it on my silver countertop, embellished with art of the gods. 

Pietro did it himself, it was one of his best creations. He wasn’t one of the Elementals, but one of the Creatives. The Elementals and Creatives were enemies, so our friendship was a secret, but when I became human, everyone would know of our close relationship. Pietro would live in shame for a few thousand years, but then the Creative Council would immediately forgive him. The Elemental Court would not be so forgiving. We would lose our immortality for 100 years, which isn’t any time at all for us gods, but for humans, it seems like a millennia they have to endure. 

I walked over to the immense waterfall in my lounge, my heels clicking against the wooden floorboards. I warped the water into a large circular mass, blue light glowing from my fingertips. The water morphed into a large dolphin, in which I handed the scroll over to. The dolphin’s watery substance brushed my hand, leaving a trace of small wet droplets. The dolphin released a shrill whistle and flew (or swam, I tried not to wrap my mind around it, it would keep me wondering for days) out the open window. 

After I was confident the animal had delivered the scroll to the Elemental Court, I rose from the velvet couch and opened the golden double doors next to the lounge, revealing a shimmering spectacle. 

The immense pool in front of me was coated in pristine quartz along the perimeter of the water, sparkling as the sun shone beams of light at it, causing the whole room to feel bright and free. In the crystal clear pool, swimming cheerfully was my amazing Conch, my hippocampus. The top half of him was a horse while the rear end of him had a tail like a mermaid. 

I hop into the pool, sprouting a tail that replaced my legs. It was a metallic, gleaming tail that began with a purple peak and faded into a magnificent blue. My top was a soft baby blue waterproof fabric adorned with beautiful seashells. 

My hippocampus whinnied and swam over to me in no time at all.

“Oh, good morning, Conch.” I purred. “Have you been a good boy?” Conch neighed and then nestled his muzzle into my palm. I laughed and then pulled out an ambrosia cube from the stash in my pocket ( yes, I had pockets in my tail ) and cast it out to the other side of the sparkling pool water. Conch swam swiftly to the other side, and caught the delicious square in his mouth. He swam back and snorted, pleading for more. 

I obliged, placing my hand in my pocket, revealing two more cubes of ambrosia. He happily gnawed at them, finishing them off and then diving happily into the depths of the water. 

I giggled to myself and then got out of the pool, my tail immediately separated into legs, my blue dress came back, and all of the pearls lining the hem were still there.

When I walked out of the door, I was greeted with the faces of the Elemental Court. A rainbow image of them. Rainbow images are what we immortals use to communicate. Oh, goody! I thought to myself. 

“Mrs. Cordelia” said Darya, the minor goddess of the sea. Also known as Poisedon’s daughter. Also known as my mother. She was wearing a crown made of seashells resting atop her blond hair that matched mine. A sleeveless white dress hugged her body at the top and flowed out at the bottom, embellished with an ocean print at the very tip. It wasn’t very fancy, but my mother liked to keep things simple. 

“Just call me Cordelia.” I said, rolling my eyes dramatically. 

“Cordelia.” said Dion, the god of earth. He was wearing a kind countenance and a simple green toga, tattoos of plants climbing up his arm. I was one of the few who knew that if Dion got angry, those plants could leap from his arm and fight somebody. I hadn’t seen it in action, but Dion had shown me when I was younger. 

“You have interacted with Pietro, the god of sculpture, a Creative. You know what consequences will fall upon him. Do you stand by your decision?” said Shula, the goddess of fire. Her outfit was eye catching, a vibrant cropped red shirt and black leggings matching the color of ashes. She was wearing a jacket that was made out of fire, which I figured was a really smart way to keep warm. With her chopped black hair and multiple piercings, Shula looked like what humans called “bad girls”. I had read a book with characters describing the way she looked. She was most likely my least favorite member of the Court. 

“My decision is permanent. I’m not taking it back. And yes, I know the consequences. But those aren’t your decision. They’re the Creative Councils.” I replied coolly.

Brisa, goddess of weather, and the youngest member of the council, replied in a soft voice, “Yes, we know. But this is not what we came to tell you. We wanted to give you a goodbye.”

I was speechless. “You-you what?”

“We wanted to say goodbye.” My mother said. She reached her arm out, but passed through me. “We won’t be able to communicate to you when you become mortal. I just want you to know that I love you, though I might not- project it sometimes.” My mother recovered, and then walked out of sight.

“Goodbye, Cor.” Dion called me by the nickname I only let him call me. He vanished.

“Farewell.” Brise said, and then vanished. 

Shula was the only one that remained. “Listen. I know you might not like me. And that’s fine. But I don’t want you to go immortal thinking that I hated you. Cause I don’t.” The rainbow image ended. 

I walked over to my couch and sobbed until there were no tears left for me to cry. 

The next day, after a long night, was my appointment to the physician. I slipped out of my pajamas and hopped into blue denim jeans and a purple top. I slid into my shining golden chariot and directed my horses over to the medic’s clinic.

When I arrived, I was greeted by the physician, Dr. Morrey. “Good morning.” he said cheerfully. 

“Morning,” I replied tiredly. 

He took me into his office, and asked, “How are you doing?” 

Awful! I am about to die and he has the audacity to ask me how I’m doing?! “I’m great.” I plastered a fake smile on my face, which he seemed to buy. 

“Wonderful!” he responded. He tested my vision and my hearing, and then he injected a syringe into my arm, which would inform him when I was going to lose my immortality. He walked out of the room, leaving me to think about being a mortal. 

My days would be limited, I wouldn’t have powers, my husband, my kids, or Conch. A single tear rolled down my cheeks. 

The doctor walked back in, a bent syringe resting in his hand, a piece of old parchment paper in his arm, and a shocked look on his face. 

“When am I going to pass?” I cringed, expecting the worse. 

“You’re healed. You’re not going to become mortal anymore.”

 I jumped out of the bed. “Seriously?” When he nodded, I hugged him. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” I exclaimed, hopping up and down.

“Wait.” I hesitate. “But that means that everything I own-left with my family and friends, just moved to the other side of Olympus yesterday. So I just lost all my family, my friends, and everything I own?”