Chapter 26 The Hunt
Venus carefully avoided all the gods as he made his way to a river. Glancing around to make sure no one was nearby, he leaped gracefully into the water.
There was a river on Mount Olympus that ran directly to the bottom of the mountain, winding its way to merge with the Aegean Sea. This information was given to him by a water nymph in the river. Ever since then, the idea of descending the mountain had taken root in his mind. The mountain paths were too closely watched, but fortunately, he could take the waterway.
Born from the sea, Venus also held the position of the God of Seafaring. In the small river, he moved with effortless ease. He swiftly dived to the riverbed, swimming all the way to the foot of the mountain. From there, he slipped into the Aegean Sea and, with practiced familiarity, made his way to the shores of Cyprus.
“Splash—”
The beautiful god emerged from the water, his golden hair gleaming under the sunlight. Stepping onto the shore, Venus used his divine power to evaporate the droplets clinging to his skin. Then, he reached into his garments and pulled out a conch shell, gently blowing it.
It was a gift from Adonis. Whenever Venus blew it, Adonis would come to him.
After a few soft notes, the rustling of leaves came from behind him. Venus turned around eagerly, his eyes lighting up as a tall, handsome man with golden hair stepped out from the foliage. With a gentle smile, Adonis gazed at him, his striking features as radiant as flowers in full bloom.
“Adonis!” Venus cried out joyfully, running forward to embrace him tightly. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“I could feel your longing in the call of the conch,” Adonis replied, his voice warm as he looked into Venus’s eyes. “So I came to you.”
“The last time we met, you caught so many rabbits,” Venus said, pulling back slightly, admiration shining in his gaze. “Your archery is incredible!”
Adonis smiled slightly. “This time, let’s try for a deer.”
Venus let out an excited cheer and walked alongside Adonis into the forest. The island was blanketed with vast fields of white roses, and the dense woodland stretched overhead, casting deep shadows. Many animals lurked in the quiet, undisturbed wilderness.
Suddenly, Adonis spoke. “Stop.”
Venus tensed immediately, halting in his tracks. His eyes darted around, but he saw nothing unusual.
Adonis, however, had already locked onto his target. He drew his bow in a smooth motion, nocking an arrow with practiced ease. A fleeting sharpness flickered across his otherwise gentle features as he loosed the string.
A deer immediately fell into a pool of blood.
Venus jumped with excitement. “Adonis, you hit it!”
Adonis looked at Venus, who was practically glowing with joy, and smiled silently.
Such a child.
“Adonis, I wish you could compete with Apollo and Artemis in archery. I think you’re just as skilled as they are.”
Apollo was a master of the bow, and before Artemis became the God of Moon, she had been the Goddess of the Hunt. Their archery skills were said to be unmatched on Olympus. But to Venus, love had a way of making the world look different. He was convinced that Adonis could outshoot the God of Sun and outmatch the Goddess of Moon, taking the title of the greatest archer in all of Greece.
Adonis shook his head with a mix of helplessness and fondness. “I cannot set foot on the divine mountain, so I’ll never have the chance to compete with them. Besides, how could a mortal’s strength ever compare to that of the gods?”
Venus responded without hesitation. “I think you’re the best!”
They continued hunting as they walked deeper into the forest. After several miles, their game bags were full. Watching Adonis’ skill, Venus felt an itch in his fingers. He wanted to try for himself, to experience the satisfaction of landing a shot. But his archery was poor, and the thought of embarrassing himself in front of his beloved made him hesitate.
Adonis, ever perceptive, noticed Venus’ reluctance. After a brief pause, he raised his bow again, aiming at a wild goat that was darting through the trees. He loosed an arrow, striking the animal’s hind leg.
The goat staggered forward, its front legs buckling as it collapsed onto the ground. Blood trickled from its wound, rendering it unable to move, but it was not a fatal shot.
Venus was confused. Adonis never missed. His arrows were always swift and lethal. How had he failed to strike the vital point this time?
“Oh no, I missed,” Adonis sighed, lowering his bow with a slight furrow of his brow. He rolled his wrist, pressing his lips together. “I’ve been shooting for too long, so my hand is getting tired.”
Venus was quick to reassure him. “You’ve already done amazingly well.”
Adonis merely smiled and handed him the bow. “Why don’t you finish it?”
Venus was eager to try, but he still feared missing his shot. Yet now, with the prey wounded and unable to escape, it was as good as a stationary target. It would be too unreasonable if he couldn’t even hit it.
Taking a steadying breath, he accepted the bow. Standing less than ten meters from the struggling animal, he nocked an arrow, drew back the string, and let it fly—
The arrow shot straight into the grass.
Venus: “……”
He heard a quiet chuckle from Adonis.
Flushing red with embarrassment, Venus stepped closer, now only five meters from the wounded animal. He nocked another arrow, took a deep breath, and fired again.
This time, the arrow lodged itself deep into a tree.
Adonis could no longer hold back. He burst into laughter.
Venus was so angry that he wanted to throw the bow and arrow away. Stomping back to him, he huffed, “I’m done with this!”
Clearly, archery was not one of the divine talents bestowed upon him.
Adonis quickly covered his lips to stifle his laughter. Then, with a swift motion, he caught Venus’ hand, gently pulling him back. Turning him around, he wrapped an arm around him from behind, guiding his hands into a textbook-perfect archery stance.
Adonis’ broad palm enveloped Venus’ fair, slender fingers, their hands pressed together in perfect alignment. With his other hand, he helped Venus draw the bowstring, guiding the arrow into place. And then, without warning, he let go.
The bowstring thrummed, the arrow slicing through the air with a sharp whistle. It struck with deadly precision. The wild goat collapsed instantly.
Venus remained still, leaning against Adonis’ chest. His heart pounded like a drum, gradually syncing with the steady rhythm of the man behind him.
Adonis released him and asked softly, “Do you want to keep going?”
The pure and radiant God of Beauty flushed a deep shade of red. Spinning around abruptly, he pressed a hand to his pounding heart. “N-No, I’m done. I’m tired.”
Even though, truthfully, he hadn’t done anything strenuous that day.
But his heart was exhausted.
“Then we’ll stop hunting,” Adonis said considerately. “Let’s take a walk instead.”
Venus agreed.
Hand in hand, they strolled along a crystal-clear brook that wound through the forest. When Venus grew tired, he settled against the trunk of a large tree to rest. Adonis wandered to the water’s edge, gathering flowers and skillfully woving them into a beautiful wreath, which he placed on Venus’ beautiful golden curls.
Venus crouched by the stream and gazed at his reflection in the water. With a sigh of admiration, he said, “Adonis, is there anything you can’t do? Even your flower wreaths are perfect.”
Adonis looked at him intently. “You’re more beautiful than any flower. When you wear them, the flowers lose their color.”
Venus lowered his head shyly. He was still an underage God of Love, yet he was already experiencing the sweet ache of a racing heart. Was this first love? Or puppy love? Either way, he found himself utterly enchanted by Adonis’ tenderness.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, the evening breeze stirred Venus’ golden hair. Seated atop a large stone, Adonis took up his lyre, his fingers gliding over the strings to weave a melody as he sang.
“My beloved boy. His golden hair shines brighter than the sun. His emerald eyes are clearer than the lake. His beauty rivals the most renowned paintings in the world. And the autumn waters in his gaze are softer than the evening breeze in the forest. At this moment, he is looking at me with such earnest devotion……”
Venus listened, utterly entranced.
It wasn’t until twilight enveloped the forest that he suddenly snapped back to reality. Jolting upright, he said hurriedly, “I have to go. I’ve been away too long, and they’ll notice my absence.”
Joyful moments were always fleeting.
Adonis stopped playing, his expression tinged with regret. “Until next time.”
Venus hesitated, reluctant to leave. “I’ll find a way to come back soon! You won’t be leaving Cyprus, will you?”
Adonis’ golden eyes were warm and steady. “As long as you blow the conch, no matter where I am, I will come to you.”
Venus nodded. “Promise me you’ll wait for me!”
Adonis walked him all the way to the shore. Venus waded into the sea, turning back after every few steps, reluctant to part. He waved one last time before disappearing beneath the waves.
Adonis stood on the sunset-drenched beach, watching in silence, his lips curved in a faint smile. He gazed at the water until the final ripple vanished, leaving the sea as still as if no one had ever been there at all.
The last ray of sunlight sank below the horizon. Day gave way to night, and shadows crept over Adonis’ face.
The smile at his lips faded slowly until not a trace of it remained.
The warmth in his golden eyes faded, replaced by the icy blue of the deep sea.
The simple, mortal garments he wore dissolved into robes of divine splendor. Blue crept over his hair, overtaking the gold strand by strand.
The noble King of the Sea stood at the shore, his deep blue eyes gazing out at the vast sea, murmuring, “I have already waited a hundred years for you, my dear Venus.”
The divine essence of the God of Sea was divided into two extreme aspects.
The sea could be tranquil and serene, or it could surge with relentless fury. And so, too, did Poseidon’s personality exist in two stark contrasts.
At times, he was gentle and kind. His sacred beast, the dolphin, symbolized his benevolence. He could bless humanity with calm seas and bountiful harvests, earning him the title of the God of Abundance. He was the protector of Atlantis, the patron deity of sailors and fishermen, the guardian of the ocean.
But he was also obsessive and violent. Wielding his trident, he could churn the skies, summon tempests, and unleash tsunamis and earthquakes in his wrath. He could create monstrous sea beasts to strike fear into mortals. At his core, he was brimming with ambition and a thirst for war.
For centuries, Poseidon had been consumed by his relentless obsession with finding the perfect lover. The longer he searched in vain, the more his divine nature skewed toward obsession and fury. But now, having found Venus, his once-restless soul settled into a state of serene tranquility.
Two hundred years was not a long time for a god. But Poseidon had no intention of missing the most crucial years of Venus’ growth. Mount Olympus belonged to Zeus, a domain where neither the God of Sea nor the King of the Underworld could tread freely. That was fine. If he could not ascend the mountain, he would simply bring Venus down.
As the ruler of all waters, Poseidon commanded a river nymph to accidentally tell Venus that a certain river flowed from Olympus’ peak to the base of the mountain, thereby luring Venus to sneak down the mountain.
Poseidon then descended to Cyprus, concealing his identity beneath the guise of a mortal named Adonis. He suppressed his darker impulses, revealing only the gentlest side of himself. Their so-called chance meeting had been meticulously orchestrated.
This plan was the result of careful deliberation.
First, approaching Venus as a mortal would lower his guard. If Poseidon had appeared before him as the King of the Sea, Venus would have immediately run back to Olympus and informed the gods there. And once they knew, they would have ensured that Venus never set foot beyond Olympus again. If that happened, Poseidon would have no chance to nurture the bond he desired.
Second, people often envisioned their first love as a gentle, devoted suitor, not as a possessive and domineering tyrant. The former could become the object of infatuation, while the latter often turned into a lifelong trauma.
Poseidon was well aware of his own nature. Without hesitation, he sealed away the part of himself that was ruthless and unyielding, leaving only warmth and tenderness. The side he had hidden would reveal itself when Venus was older.
Both sides were the real him, so it wasn’t exactly a deception. He just didn’t reveal his full nature.
Venus was still too young. Poseidon would not become a childhood nightmare that crushed love before it had a chance to bloom.
If you enjoy this novel, support the Translator ginevre on her ko-fi account :))
