Peppermint Blizzard

The prolouge to Wake Up and Smell the Coffee 

​Whisper of Wind and Moonlight Glowing:
“Take care,” her mother whispered, and gently pushed the small infant into the arms of the gentle wind god Zephyr to be taken swiftly and safely home to her father. “Beware of Boreas, you know how he drags winter out so long each year,” Athena warned. “He brings snow and wind, and is the speediest of all of Aeolos’. He may try to bring harm to her.”

“Are you naming the child?” asked the gentle wind.

“Kassi,” Athena whispered, “Pure. Defender of Mankind.” And with that, the wind departed and Athena returned to her throne, tearing her eyes from her newborn baby girl, until the time was right to see her again. From now on Kassi would have to be on her own.

The wind rustled as Zephyr traveled through the dark night of February, carrying a golden cradle which held the demigod daughter of Athena. A chilly north wind blew in, with a hint of frost and snowflakes. The baby’s soft skin was nearly as pale as the flakes, which rested on her forehead, the only place not obscured by silver blanket. Zephyr heard a low chuckle from behind him.

“Another errand, Zephyr? I half expect Hermes to lose his job.” The god smirked, forming from cold winter snow. Zephyr clenched his teeth to keep him from chattering and held the baby more closely.

“Let me see her,” Boreas whispered softly, his breath visible from the cold he had created, though his eyes burned with a hot hatred like Hephaestus’ forge.

Zephyr ignored the request and kept moving, though the thick forest, the tree tops covered in light snow. A strong wind sent the god off his feet, and the basket slipped from his grasp. Before the west wind could catch the basket and bring it out of harm’s way, it was caught by the wind and carried out of sight. “Boreas! What have you done?” Zephyr moaned. “The godling will die. Help me find her.”

“Not even if Aeolos ordered it,” hissed Boreas, and disappeared in a sudden burst. The wind whistled strangely, as if moaning with Zephyr, as he searched in vain for the baby carriage he would never find.

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Two girls walked out of the gloom of the forest, making no sound as only skilled hunters can. One had a silver bow at the ready, quick to glance at disturbances in the wood. The other was less cautious, as if she had control.

Soon, they came upon a strange sight, a golden cradle, out of place in the shadows of the towering trees. The early morning light filtered down and just grazed the edge of the unearthly vessel, making that one spot glow like no metal, no matter how pure, could.

“My Lady,” said the one with the bow, her dark hair and tanned skin slightly aglow. “Look.”

The other moved her gaze to the cradle, and surprise struck the immortal face. She walked over to it, auburn hair flowing in the slight breeze. Inside she saw a child, new to the world, fast asleep inside a silver blanket. Wonder and confusion were her next emotions. The child must come from somewhere, and to withstand the forest, alone, unprotected. It simply cannot be done unless divine work was at play. Making her decision, she gingerly picked up the cradle, careful not to wake the sleeping child.

The dark-haired girl looked quizzically at the other, but no question or protest left her lips, and no explanation left the ones of the first, other than, “Would you leave her, Zoë, daughter of titans?”

The one called Zoë made no reply, only gazing at the infant. The two disappeared back into the woods and lit a fire. Just before daybreak, they stood, watching the horizon. Suddenly, a bright flash illuminated the woods, and a sports car appeared before them.

“Apollo,” said the one, formally.

“No need to be so stuck up sis, we’re twins.” She flashed him a look. “Alright, alright, what do you want, Artemis?”

“I need a favor. I found a child in the woods yesterday, and I cannot take care of her. I have too many other duties. I need you to keep her from harm while I try to find her parents.”

“What?!” said Apollo indignantly. “I have to babysit?”

“Yes,” she sighed at her brother’s foolishness. “You must protect her. You would have thought that the god of prophecy would’ve seen this coming.”

“Fine.” Apollo took the child’s cradle in his arms and lowered her into the passenger seat of the car. At the look Artemis gave him he buckled the seat belt. “But I want credit.” Truthfully, he had not foreseen this occurrence, and he was puzzled by it.

“Fine,” said Artemis, walking away to start her mission.

Now happy that he would be recognized, he hopped into the car and sped off, leaving a circle of melted snow behind.

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The child slept in the warmth of the sun, stirring only occasionally. She remained that way throughout the day, lulled to a prolonged rest by the smooth rays. Apollo, cut short by the winter, rested his beloved car on the grass as dusk fell. Artemis was waiting for him, standing by her sleigh, alone.

“So, you found ‘em yet?” asked Apollo, taking the still sleeping child from the car and walking over to his sister.

“Yes. Her father lives not far from here. That is where we shall leave her.”

“And her mom?”

“Her mother is divine.”

“What? Who?”

Artemis gave her brother a long look, wondering if she should tell him. She had not told the mother of the child’s dilemma, knowing that it would cause her unnecessary worry. She had the situation under control; there was no need to put that upon another being. She now pondered whether to share her findings with her twin. Apollo was rash, but kind, however, his judgement wasn’t always the best, so Artemis decided to keep the knowledge to herself. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” she replied.

“Aw, c’mon, sis. Does the mom even know what we’re doing?”

“I saw no need to cause undesired concern.”

“Great. So who’s gonna congratulate me? At least the dad will be grateful.”

Artemis shot him a glare. “He’s not going to know either. We can’t interfere to that extent.”

“Okay,” he replied sarcastically, “so the sleeping kid’s the only one who can thank us for saving her butt. Wonderful.”

“It’s not all about the reward, brother,” she said, stepping into her sleigh. Apollo, grumbling, followed suit with a last click of his keys to lock his car, bringing the child. Artemis rode to the house of the man the immortal mother had so favored. In the light of the waning gibbous moon, the two immortals gently placed the beautiful cradle on the porch of the house, the child protected from the winter night by the blankets lovingly wrapped around her.

Artemis started to walk away, her duty done. “Woah, wait a second, sis,” said Apollo, catching up to her. “You’re just gonna leave her without even explaining to the dad?”

“The father is special. He can see through the barrier of mortals. The child’s mother has left a note in the cradle. He will find it, and the child will be safe from harm; I have assured it. Again, we cannot be so involved.”

“So that’s it? Goodbye senorita? I don’t know about you, but I want the little gal to know about this.”

“Apollo,” she hissed. “You cannot. You cannot interfere in this! She’s young! Most likely, she’ll grow up knowing nothing of the true world. We cannot influence that!”

“After all of this, you’re going to forget about her? Hello, recognition.”

“Of course not. I intend to watch over her. Perhaps a gift later in life, depending on her actions, of course.

“That sounds good. But me first. Maybe I’ll give her something to remember me by now, so she’ll worship me later.”

“Not now! She’ll find out about the world soon enough, considering her father is unveiled. Wait until she goes to camp. She’ll need it then. But not a moment before. Stay out of her life,” she warned.

Sullenly, Apollo acquiesced to his sister’s wishes, and the pair silently flew off, parting ways.

The next morning, when the sun rose as it always did, a man opened the door, having woken from sleep, to get the Saturday newspaper. As the sun’s rays hit the child’s face, she woke, and the first thing she saw was the surprised face of her father gazing down at her. Quietly, she started to cry. Bewildered, he bent down and picked up the child, the letter rustling with the blankets, and took her inside, staring in wonderment at his daughter as two pairs of immortal eyes monitored the scene.

Chapters 1-4: Mint Mocha