The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. Children streamed out of the temples of their chosen faiths, their laughter echoing through the air as they ran towards their homes, where their parents, or in this case, their mothers and siblings, awaited them. It was a bittersweet reminder that they were still at war, but as the sun set, the true festival began.

Stalls sprang to life, their colorful lights flickering to life as lanterns floated up into the darkening sky. Each family had their own way of celebrating; some hosted grand feasts at home, while others took to the bustling stalls to indulge in treats and games.

A huge man and a rather tall woman watched as children flocked to the stalls, eager to buy cheap food and play with one another. The atmosphere was filled with joy and excitement, but amidst the festivities, some of the blessed children displayed their competitive spirit.

Artemis stood tall, drawing her bow with practiced ease. Her target, a hay bale set eighty meters away, was illuminated by torches that lit up the shooting range. The twilight deepened as the sun sank lower, casting a soft glow over the scene. She released her arrow, and it flew straight and true, hitting the target with a satisfying thud.

She handed the bow to Apollo, her worthy adversary.

Apollo took his position, the crowd of children growing larger as they gathered to watch the friendly competition. With the setting sun casting a halo around his head, Apollo's figure seemed to glow in the twilight. He aimed carefully and released his arrow. Not only did he hit the target, but the sheer force of the shot sent the hay bale flying, drawing gasps of surprise from the onlookers.

"How did you do that?" Artemis asked, astonished. "We are using the same bow."

Apollo leaned in and whispered to Artemis, "It must be because of my skill. I am at my strongest during the day. You can probably do it too during the night."

"Can I try?" Hyakinthos asked eagerly.

"Sure," Apollo said, handing over the bow.

Apollo and Artemis exchanged knowing glances, expecting Hyakinthos to struggle with the heavy bow, given his lack of experience.

But Hyakinthos surprised them both. With a calm and steady hand, he drew the bow with ease and released the arrow. It didn't hit the target, but it soared impressively.

"You have strong arms, Haya," Apollo remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"Ahh... Thank you," Hyakinthos replied, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"But you aimed too high, Haya. You should aim lower since your arms are so strong."

"Okay," he nodded, then handed the bow back to Artemis. Their friendly competition resumed, the air buzzing with excitement.

Apollo took the lead, his arrows consistently hitting the mark with precision. But as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky cloaked in darkness, Artemis began to glow softly.

With the bow in hand, she nocked an arrow and drew the string back. The luminescence around her seemed to intensify, casting a mystical aura over her. She released the arrow, and it flew with incredible speed. The moment it struck the target, the hay bale was sent flying through the air, much to everyone's astonishment.

"Sister Arty is glowing!" one of the children exclaimed, eyes wide with wonder.

"What?" Artemis looked down at her hands and saw that she was indeed glowing. "Woah... How do I turn it off?" she asked, turning to Apollo for guidance.

"Just imagine you are no longer glowing," Apollo advised calmly.

She closed her eyes and concentrated, visualizing her glowing figure fading away. Slowly, the radiant light dimmed until it finally disappeared, leaving her standing there with a look of awe and relief.

As their competition continued, Apollo's performance began to dwindle. His arrows, once steady and accurate, started to miss their mark. Hyakinthos decided not to draw the bow anymore, as the encroaching darkness made it impossible for him to see the target, the light of the seven moons are hidden by the clouds. Artemis, however, kept drawing the bow with unwavering determination. Each time she released an arrow, the distinct whistle of its flight through the air was followed by the satisfying thud of it hitting the hay.

"How can you even see the target, Sister Arty?" Hyakinthos asked, perplexed.

"What do you mean?" she replied with a shrug. "It's not that dark."

The others blinked in confusion at her response. Apollo, however, had an idea. "You can see through the dark, can't you, sis?" he asked.

"I can?" Artemis responded, equally surprised.

"Yes, you can."

"Oh... I guess I can," she smiled, drawing the bow one last time and hitting the target with ease. That was the final arrow shot, signaling the end of their friendly competition. No one had been keeping score, so there was no clear winner, but the camaraderie and enjoyment were the true victories of the night.

As the festival continued, the children, accompanied by their remaining family members, strolled through the streets. The town was alive with activity, each stall and altar brimming with vibrant decorations. Statues and symbols of faith were adorned with flowers, each display a testament to the town's devotion. The air was filled with laughter and the tantalizing aroma of food from the stalls. Hyakinthos, in particular, seemed more gluttonous than everyone else, eagerly sampling the various treats.

The celebration was in full swing when the priestesses arrived, their procession a solemn yet beautiful sight. They marched through the town's streets, swinging censers that filled the air with the fragrant scent of incense. The smoke enveloped each house and altar, purifying the entire town with its holy presence. The blessed children and their families felt a sense of warmth and comfort from the incense and the holy oils, a tangible blessing from the pantheon of gods.

Yet, amidst the joyous celebration, three children felt a sense of unease. Hyakinthos, Apollo, and Artemis stood slightly apart, feeling out of place. Their gods, Gaia and Thanatos, did not belong to the pantheon being honored tonight.

After the march of the priestess, it was time for the children to march towards the temple once again.

All of the children were wearing different clothes, each reflecting the faiths they had chosen to join. The variety in their attire was striking, with each robe bearing the symbol of their chosen deity.

The children who had chosen to worship Vulcan wore red robes, the same color as fire, with the anvil and hammer proudly displayed on their backs.

The new worshippers of Juno were adorned in vibrant robes of blue and green. Each robe bore the icon of Juno, her scepter with an asterisk on top, and as expected, all of her worshippers were girls.

Followers of Vesta wore robes in a variety of colors, but they were united by a single symbol: Vesta's torch, which was etched on their backs.

The new worshippers of Minerva were dressed in robes of teal, with Minerva's owl prominently displayed on their backs.

The young worshippers of Mars wore blood-red robes, with his spear etched on their backs, embodying the god's fierce and warlike nature.

Neptune's new worshippers were dressed in blue, with the god's trident adorning their backs, reflecting the power and majesty of the sea.

Amongst the colorful procession, three children stood out: Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos. They felt more out of place than ever, for the festival did not celebrate their gods, and they were the only ones who had not changed clothes.

When they arrived at the nobles' district, even more color was added to the parade. The young nobles' clothes were far more glamorous than those of the commoners, with symbols etched in gold and silver that shimmered under the soft glow of the seven moons. Among the new additions were the worshippers of Jupiter, who wore pristine white robes adorned with silver and gold patterns of lightning. The symbol of the eagle was proudly etched on their backs, a testament to their allegiance to the king of the gods.

The new worshippers of Jupiter stood proud, their eyes casting glances of disdain at the commoners, as if displeased that they should share the same path. Just like before, the young nobles marched with disciplined precision, their posture erect and steps measured, while the commoners remained more relaxed and playful, chatting amiably with one another as they walked.

In the midst of this vibrant procession, three children stood out: Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos. They walked together, their unchanged attire making them conspicuous amidst the sea of colorful robes. Yet, it was their appearances that truly drew attention. Artemis, with her ethereal beauty, seemed to glow even more under the touch of moonlight, her presence captivating all who laid eyes on her. Hyakinthos, with his delicate and feminine beauty, caused many to mistake him for a girl, his features soft and striking. Apollo, though the least ostentatious, exuded a quiet, handsome charm that did not go unnoticed. His serene demeanor and radiant appearance made him stand out in his own right.

As they walked through the nobles' district, the contrast between the dazzling garments of the worshippers and the simple, unchanged clothes of the three children was stark. Yet, their natural beauty and the aura of their divine affiliations made them a highlight of the parade, capturing the attention of all who witnessed their passage.

"Whose children are those?"

"Why are those noble children walking with the commoners?"

"Gods above, they didn't change clothes. They must be undecided."

"That is a bad omen. Who are their parents? I must adopt those beautiful children."

"Especially the girl."

Artemis paled when she heard the nobles whisper.

"Are you okay, sis?" Apollo asked, concern etching his handsome face.

"No. Not at all," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her usual confidence shaken.

Apollo looked at Hyakinthos, and the two of them exchanged uneasy glances. They couldn't hear the whispers, but they felt a chill run down their spines as they noticed the nobles' eyes darting towards them, laden with intrigue and judgment.

The moonlight cast an ethereal glow on Artemis, making her look almost otherworldly, which only intensified the nobles' interest. Her usually calm demeanor was replaced with an anxious pallor, her steps becoming less sure as the whispers grew louder. Hyakinthos, with his delicate, almost feminine beauty, also drew stares, his long hair catching the light in a way that made him appear even more striking. Apollo, though the most understated, felt the weight of their gazes too, his serene face now marked with a hint of unease.

The nobles' eyes lingered, their whispers growing in intensity, creating an almost palpable tension in the air. The children's unease deepened, their previously confident strides faltering as they felt the scrutiny of the noble onlookers.

Soon, they all arrived at the temple of creation. The three children were tired and on high alert, their senses heightened by the day's events. They made way for the priestesses who were also entering the temple. Their grandmother, Leto, gave them a reassuring wink, and with her was Merina, dressed in the garbs of an acolyte of Vesta. She smiled at the three children, noticing their unease and offering a silent comfort. Some of their mothers were there too, dressed in the same garments as the acolytes of Vesta, adding a familiar presence that was somewhat calming.

After the priestesses entered the temple, the gates were closed, sealing the gathering inside. The grand dome of the temple featured an open oculus at its center, allowing moonlight to cascade down and illuminate the sacred space. The moonbeam spotlighted the young acolyte of Jupiter and the acolyte of Juno, casting a divine glow upon them. Traditionally, this ceremony would be conducted by the priest of Jupiter and the priestess of Juno, who would also be married to symbolize the bond between the King and Queen of the Gods. However, tonight it was the young acolytes, no older than fourteen, who stood in their place.

Once all the priestesses had taken their seats, the young acolyte of Jupiter stood up. "Children of Elion, the gods have blessed us once again," his youthful voice echoed throughout the vast temple, sounding both solemn and innocent. "You have started to walk on your paths, and with it, your own step towards independence."

His declaration, despite its gravity, was tinged with the unmistakable tone of a child. The priestesses, seated in their places, exchanged amused glances, trying their best not to chuckle. The scene was endearing—a young boy, barely a teenager, addressing his peers with the weight of a sacred duty. The flickering candlelight and the soft glow of the moon added to the magical atmosphere, creating an almost surreal setting for the children's solemn moment.

"That is not all. The Gods have given us two champions. Step forward, Boreas 'Zephyrus' Astoria, Champion of Jupiter. Flora 'Iris' Sieglyn, Champion of Juno," the young acolyte proclaimed, his voice echoing through the temple.

Two children approached the young acolyte. The first, Boreas 'Zephyrus' Astoria, had pale skin, black hair, and striking blue eyes. His handsome features stood out among his peers. Some of the nobles watched him with disdain, their expressions revealing a mixture of contempt and perhaps jealousy. Meanwhile, the commoner children paid little attention, their minds preoccupied with thoughts of where they might practice their new gifts, when they could hunt, and how much longer the sermon would last.

The second child, Flora 'Iris' Sieglyn, had vibrant red hair and piercing blue eyes. She moved gracefully, her beauty drawing admiration from her peers. However, as she walked alongside Boreas, the noble children didn't bother to hide their disdain. Their emotions—anger, jealousy, or both—were evident, though the exact reasons remained known only to them.

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"The Gods have given us two champions, and these two champions were bestowed with a special gift," the young acolyte continued, his voice nervous yet filled with a sense of reverence.

In the midst of the ceremony, Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos exchanged glances and whispered among themselves.

"Didn't everyone get that?" Artemis whispered, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Apparently not," Apollo replied quietly.

"Does that make us champions?" Artemis asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"Probably not," Apollo answered with a slight shake of his head.

Hyakinthos remained silent, then whispered, "Champions have names given to them by the Gods. I did not receive a new name, which means I am not a champion."

"Neither did I," Artemis added softly.

"Me too," Apollo confirmed.

"So we are normal?" Artemis asked, seeking reassurance.

"Yes," the two boys answered in unison, their voices low.

"The gods have entrusted you with great power," the sermon continued, the young acolyte's voice carrying a weight that belied his age. "And with great power comes great responsibility. Raise your fists to your hearts, champions."

The two children, Boreas 'Zephyrus' Astoria and Flora 'Iris' Sieglyn, did as they were told, their expressions solemn and resolute.

"Swear this oath: 'You will protect the sons and daughters of Elion. You will serve the sons and daughters of Elion with your power and destroy the enemies of humanity.'"

"I swear," the two children intoned in unison, their voices ringing with conviction. "As a child of Elion, to protect my own species and guide them to transcendence. To destroy our enemies until there's not a trace of their existence."

"Good," the young acolyte said, nodding approvingly. He then turned his gaze to the other children. "Children of Elion, swear it to the Gods, that you too will serve humanity. Put your fists on your chests and swear it."

The children did as they were instructed, their fists pressed to their hearts. The young acolyte led the promise, his voice echoing through the temple. "I swear, as a child of Elion, to protect my own species and guide them to transcendence. To destroy our enemies until there's not a trace of their existence."

The promise made by the children reverberated within the temple's sacred walls, creating a powerful resonance that filled the air. The nobles, standing tall and dignified, recited the oath with a profound belief in its words, their faces reflecting a deep sense of duty and honor. They truly believed in the solemn vow they were making.

In contrast, the commoners displayed a mix of reactions. While some among them were genuinely moved, their voices steady and committed as they made the promise, the majority appeared distracted, their minds wandering to thoughts of home and comfort. The disparity in their attitudes was evident, the noble's solemnity starkly juxtaposed with the commoners' impatience.

"The gods have entrusted you with great power," the sermon continued, the young acolyte's voice carrying a weight that belied his age. "And with great power comes great responsibility. Raise your fists to your hearts, champions."

The two children, Boreas 'Zephyrus' Astoria and Flora 'Iris' Sieglyn, did as they were told, their expressions solemn and resolute.

"Swear this oath: 'You will protect the sons and daughters of Elion. You will serve the sons and daughters of Elion with your power and destroy the enemies of humanity.'"

"I swear," the two children intoned in unison, their voices ringing with conviction. "As a child of Elion, to protect my own species and guide them to transcendence. To destroy our enemies until there's not a trace of their existence."

"Good," the young acolyte said, nodding approvingly. He then turned his gaze to the other children. "Children of Elion, swear it to the Gods, that you too will serve humanity. Put your fists on your chests and swear it."

The children did as they were instructed, their fists pressed to their hearts. The young acolyte led the promise, his voice echoing through the temple. "I swear, as a child of Elion, to protect my own species and guide them to transcendence. To destroy our enemies until there's not a trace of their existence."

The promise made by the children reverberated within the temple's sacred walls, creating a powerful resonance that filled the air. The nobles, standing tall and dignified, recited the oath with a profound belief in its words, their faces reflecting a deep sense of duty and honor. They truly believed in the solemn vow they were making.

In contrast, the commoners displayed a mix of reactions. While some among them were genuinely moved, their voices steady and committed as they made the promise, the majority appeared distracted, their minds wandering to thoughts of home and comfort. The disparity in their attitudes was evident, the noble's solemnity starkly juxtaposed with the commoners' impatience.

Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos, amidst the collective oath-taking, felt a sense of detachment. The grandeur of the ceremony, the echoing promises, and the solemnity of the occasion seemed distant, almost surreal. They placed their fists on their chests, their voices blending with the others, but their thoughts lingered on the whispers they had heard earlier and the unease that had settled within them.

The temple, bathed in the soft moonlight, witnessed the convergence of diverse emotions. The young champions, newly anointed with their titles and responsibilities, stood as symbols of hope and strength. The nobles' unwavering faith contrasted with the commoners' mixed feelings, creating a rich tapestry of human experience and aspiration.

As the echoes of the children's promise faded, a profound silence enveloped the temple. The weight of the oath hung in the air, a testament to the shared destiny of the sons and daughters of Elion, bound by their vow to protect and transcend, united in their pledge to serve humanity and eradicate its enemies.

Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos, amidst the collective oath-taking, felt an overwhelming sense of detachment. The grandeur of the ceremony, the echoing promises, and the solemnity of the occasion seemed distant, almost surreal. They placed their fists on their chests, their voices blending with the others, but their thoughts were consumed by a growing feeling of alienation. The more time they spent in the temple, the more they felt as if they didn't belong there.

As the moonlight streamed through the oculus, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the assembled children, the three of them stood quietly, their minds drifting away from the pomp and ritual surrounding them. Artemis glanced around, her eyes lingering on the nobles' proud faces and the commoners' mixed expressions, feeling a pang of longing for the simplicity and familiarity of the orphanage or Pacificus's farm. The cold, ornate walls of the temple, with their intricate carvings and golden inlays, felt suffocating compared to the open fields and warm, rustic atmosphere of the farm.

Apollo's gaze was distant, his mind filled with memories of peaceful days spent under the sun, training on Pacificus's farm. The solemnity of the temple, with its echoing chants and rigid formality, contrasted starkly with the laughter and camaraderie he associated with the farm. He felt a deep yearning to return to the place where he felt truly at ease, away from the scrutinizing eyes and the heavy expectations of the ceremony.

Hyakinthos, with his delicate features illuminated by the light of the seven moons, felt an acute sense of not belonging. The whispers and judgmental glances from the nobles had left a lingering discomfort. He longed for the quiet corners of the orphanage, where he could find solace in familiar faces and comforting routines. The grandiose surroundings of the temple only heightened his sense of isolation, making him wish fervently for the simplicity and warmth of home.

As the echoes of the collective oath faded, the temple's solemn silence seemed to amplify their feelings of displacement. The children around them, with their fervent promises and solemn vows, appeared to be part of a different world—a world that Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos felt increasingly disconnected from. The elaborate ceremony, meant to unite and inspire, had only served to highlight their sense of otherness.

They glanced at each other, their expressions reflecting a shared desire to escape the confines of the temple. The ornate walls and celestial symbols, meant to inspire awe and reverence, felt like barriers keeping them from the places where they truly belonged. The soft rustle of robes and the murmurs of the gathered crowd seemed distant, almost dreamlike, as their thoughts turned towards the familiar comfort of the orphanage and the serene beauty of Pacificus's farm.

The ceremony, with all its grandeur and significance, could not quell their longing for home. They stood there, fists to their chests, outwardly participating in the ritual, but inwardly yearning for the simplicity and warmth of the places they cherished most. The feeling of alienation grew stronger, each passing moment in the temple deepening their desire to return to where they felt truly at peace.

"Now, children, go to your chosen faiths. Those who are still undecided, we will help you decide to what faith you must go," the young acolyte announced, his voice resonating through the temple.

Noble and commoner children alike began to move towards their designated priestesses. The sea of colorful robes flowed as they sought out their chosen paths, each step filled with purpose and anticipation.

Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos paled when they heard the order. Fear gripped them, and their hands began to shake as their hearts beat rapidly in their chests. The sensation was compounded by the stares of the other children, noble and common alike, who seemed to take a keen interest in their hesitation.

For Artemis, with her heightened perception thanks to the blessings of the hunter, the scrutiny was almost unbearable. Every whisper, every glance felt magnified. But in the midst of the overwhelming sensations, she found a beacon of solace: her grandmother Leto and mother Merina, standing together, waving their hands and offering reassuring smiles.

"Let's go towards Mother Rina," she whispered to her brothers, her voice steadying as she spoke.

"Good idea, sis," Apollo replied, relief evident in his voice.

"Yes, please," added Hyakinthos, his voice quivering the most among the three.

They made their way towards the group of Vesta's children, their steps quickening as they sought refuge. As they approached, the children devoted to Vesta blushed and some even silently celebrated, thrilled to see the three eye-catching siblings coming their way.

The trio reached Merina and Leto, who immediately placed their hands on the children's shoulders, their touch offering a soothing comfort. The presence of their grandmother and mother, dressed in the garbs of Vesta's acolytes, provided a sense of security they desperately needed.

For a moment, the three felt a profound sense of peace. Vesta, the goddess of family, extended her protection over them through the warm presence of Merina and Leto. Despite the different faiths the children were destined to follow, the bond of family remained unbroken. The warmth of Vesta's grace enveloped them, easing their fears and calming their racing hearts.

The group of Vesta's children, now joined by Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos, felt a shared sense of pride and joy. The three siblings, who had felt so out of place just moments ago, now found themselves embraced by the familial warmth and acceptance that Vesta embodied. The tension in their shoulders eased, and their breathing slowed as they stood with their family, surrounded by the comforting aura of the goddess of the hearth and home.

As they stood there, nestled in the sanctuary of Vesta's followers, the intimidating grandeur of the temple seemed to fade away. The whispers and glances of the other children became distant echoes. For now, they were safe, enveloped in the nurturing presence of those who loved them unconditionally.

Everyone went to their respective faiths, forming clusters around their respective priestesses and acolytes. The air was filled with the mingling scents of incense and oils as the acolytes of Jupiter and the priestesses of Juno moved among the groups, performing blessings. The priestesses’ faces were obscured by veils, adding an aura of mystery that made Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos feel increasingly uneasy. They felt exposed and scrutinized, the veils only heightening their anxiety.

One priestess approached them, her presence commanding yet gentle. "Are you children orphans?" she asked, her voice calm and motherly, a tone that felt unsettlingly kind.

"Yes," the three replied, their voices almost a whisper.

"Are you followers of Vesta?"

"Yes," they lied flatly, their voices betraying their fear.

Merina and Leto raised an eyebrow but remained silent nonetheless.

"Ah," the priestess said thoughtfully. "I see. The clothes you should be wearing must be gifted by your parents. So you children are not adopted?"

"Yes," they answered truthfully this time.

"I can adopt—"

"No," the three responded in unison, cutting her off.

"Children!" Merina exclaimed, taken aback by their abruptness.

"I'm sorry," the children quickly added, their voices filled with a mix of panic and apology.

The priestess chuckled softly. "It's okay, children. I understand. I'm just a stranger to you." She raised her veil, revealing a beautiful, serene face. "I am Caecilia 'Orian' Marius Agrippa, wife of General Julius 'Orian' Antonius Agrippa. He went to fight in the war. I haven't seen him for three years now, but the Lotus of Juno told me he is still alive... I wish to be a mother to one of your children."

The three children were silent, their hearts pounding in their chests.

"We don't want to be separated," Apollo finally said, his voice sincere. "I'm sorry."

"Yes," Hyakinthos and Artemis agreed, nodding.

"Oh," she said, her smile warm and understanding. "Don't worry, you can still visit the orphanage. We live in the same town, after all."

Despite her kind demeanor, her words only made the children more apprehensive. They knew her status—a noble, and worse, the wife of a general—added a layer of intimidation.

"Well, I can't adopt all of the orphanage," she continued, her smile unwavering. "But I can adopt two of you. I can ask a friend of mine to adopt one of your siblings."

The children paled further. The mention of their siblings struck a chord of fear. In their orphanage, growing up without being adopted was a common expectation. But this woman’s genuine, almost naive, proposal to have her friends adopt their siblings seemed too sincere, too real.

Another priestess joined them, her veil obscuring her features. "What are you doing, Sister Caecilia?"

"Oh, Sister Augusta, I was just talking to the children and their mothers."

The children paled even more. The fact that she referred to Merina and Leto as their mothers, rather than caretakers, added a genuine yet unsettling note to her words.

"Can I adopt the other girl? The beautiful one with violet eyes?" Augusta asked.

"I'm actually a boy," Hyakinthos said softly.

A brief, awkward silence followed. Then Sister Augusta removed her veil, revealing a young, almost teenage face.

A wide smile spread across her lips as she leaned towards Hyakinthos. "I want to adopt you," she said, her smile growing wider.

A bell rang, its clear, melodious sound echoing through the temple. The two priestesses turned towards the center, where the acolyte of Jupiter held a small bell, and the acolyte of Juno rang it gently with a silver rod.

"May the gods bless you and may your future be bright," the acolyte of Juno intoned, her voice still carrying the timbre of childhood. "Let us start our prayers."

The priestesses moved to their respective groups, gracefully lowering themselves to their knees. Following their lead, all the children and worshippers knelt in reverence. Silence fell over the temple, a profound, almost tangible stillness. The only sound was the faint rustling of robes as everyone settled into their positions. Minutes, perhaps even an hour, passed in silent supplication, each person lost in their private communion with the divine.

As prayers concluded, one by one, worshippers rose from their knees. They sat quietly on the floor, maintaining an atmosphere of solemn respect for those still in prayer. Gradually, as the last worshipper completed their devotions, everyone stood.

"We give our thanks to the gods," said the acolyte of Juno, her voice reverberating through the hallowed space. "We have had another successful year and hopefully an even more successful future. We have given our thanks and blessings to our gods. We may now leave."

The children and worshippers began to file out of the temple, their footsteps echoing softly against the ancient stone floors. The commoners, with their more relaxed demeanor, were the first to leave, chatting and laughing quietly among themselves. Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos stood to the side, watching intently as Marika and Leto engaged in conversation with the two noble priestesses. The interaction appeared cordial yet formal, their gestures polite, and their expressions composed.

Artemis, with her heightened senses, tried to catch snippets of their conversation. However, the murmurs of the departing crowd, mixed with the echoing footsteps and rustling robes, created a symphony of sounds that overwhelmed the delicate threads of dialogue. Frustrated, she realized it was futile to try and listen in amidst the din. With a sigh, she decided to ignore it, letting her curiosity rest for now.

The cool night air greeted them as they stepped outside, a gentle breeze carrying the scents of the evening. Artemis exchanged a glance with Apollo and Hyakinthos, a silent understanding passing between them. They were all exhausted, longing for the comfort and familiarity of the orphanage.

As they made their way back, the imposing silhouette of the temple faded into the distance, replaced by the comforting glow of the orphanage's lights.

Upon arrival, they were greeted by the warm, comforting sight of their siblings and the mouthwatering aroma of food. Pacificus was there, tending to a hearty meal with a practiced hand. The lively, welcoming atmosphere of the orphanage was a stark contrast to the solemnity of the temple. The sounds of laughter and conversation filled the air, a symphony of familial warmth.

Artemis, Apollo, and Hyakinthos joined their siblings at the table, the fatigue of the day's events beginning to melt away. The smell of home-cooked food and the presence of their loved ones brought a deep sense of relief and joy. They gathered around the table, their siblings' chatter creating a vibrant, comforting backdrop.

Pacificus served the food with a warm smile, his presence a beacon of stability and love. The three children, despite their weariness, felt a profound sense of contentment. The shared meal became a celebration of their bond, a moment of respite from the pressures and uncertainties of the outside world. The warmth of the hearth, the delicious food, and the company of their family wrapped around them like a comforting blanket, easing their tired spirits and filling them with peace.