Orion stood with his boot pressed into the throat of one of the wolves. He wielded his hunting knife to slice into another with a violent swing. It whimpered and backed off as the one beneath him breathed its last, and as he felt its life slip away, he brought his leg around for a roundhouse kick to beat off the third. The trio had been relentless in their pursuit, and he’d failed to escape them in his effort to pursue the goddess and her assailant.

At the last moment, however, when he was so close to conquering his own opponents, he received aid in the form of an arrow shot from above. It pierced the neck of the wolf he had kicked and was followed soon after by another arrow that claimed the life of the wolf he had cut.

Orion looked around cautiously. "Lady Huntress?" he called up into the trees.

"Not exactly," came a much deeper reply than he’d expected. Apollo dropped from his elevated position to greet the hunter, who slowly lowered his knife.

"Lord Apollo," he muttered, and he dropped to one knee. The god was quick to dismiss the gesture with an upturned palm.

"Please, spare me," he said. "I’ve no need of your false adulation. I know there is little love lost between you and your beneficent gods."

Smirking, Orion rose. "Far be it from me to stand as an enemy of Olympus. Indeed, I am here to aid one of your own, if you would pardon me."

Apollo quirked a brow. "You think the Goddess of the Hunt incapable of protecting herself?"

"Not at all. But the foe she faces is beyond anything I have ever seen. I will aid her if she needs it, and if she does not, I will revel in the spectacle of the great goddess hunting a quarry worthy of her."

"Hmph. Indeed.” The notion appeared to amuse Apollo, though Orion was not able to clearly see why. He tilted his head and, after a tense moment, stepped to continue his pursuit of Artemis. Apollo stepped into his path, and he froze.

"She does not need you," the god asserted.

Orion chuckled. "You gods do not know the meaning of need, yet you need more than you know."

"Mind your tongue, mortal," seethed a glaring Apollo.

"You are her opponent, aren’t you? The one who has challenged her to this game of skill?"

"Who else? And your intrusion disrupts the integrity of our hunt. Mortals should know better than to involve themselves in the affairs of the ever-living."

Orion narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "What would you have me do? Turn tail and flee?"

"It is not the cowardly mortal who excuses himself when gods compete, but the reverent one. We have not invited you to participate with us, and we do not desire your interference."

"It seems you are the only one who does not want me here, and if I have any understanding of the competition at hand, you have already violated the terms."

Apollo chuckled. His grip on his bow tightened, and his free hand twitched as he considered an arrow. Orion’s eyes followed the motions, but he refrained from reacting.

"You know nothing, mortal," said Apollo. "The stakes of this game are higher than you realize. It is only natural, really. As far as mortals go, you are a rather dense example."

Orion’s lips curled into a tight smile. He flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles. "Mortals of my nature have bested gods before…my lord."

Apollo grinned, but looked away. "Not today," he said, and he shifted his torso to narrowly avoid a silver arrow that came whistling through the air. It pierced through several trees without slowing down and did not stop until it lost its light. Another shined in the darkness near the bickering pair, illuminating the feral features of the Olympian huntress. Her eyes were focused squarely on Apollo, who braced himself for her wrath.

"What are you playing at?" she seethed. "This is not the game we established!"

"Perhaps not precisely, sister, but do you not find it the least bit more interesting?"

Artemis answered by releasing her arrow. Apollo ducked to avoid it, then leaped backwards. His sister advanced while Orion watched on with consternation.

"Calm yourself, sister!" Apollo entreated. "You cannot hunt me!"

"I’m just making things more interesting!" exclaimed the goddess in a mocking tone. She released another arrow, and Apollo dodged it once more. He found it a challenge to run from her and watch her at the same time, but knew that he could not succeed in evading her if he turned his back completely. She pursued him doggedly, unsure exactly how much damage she wanted to do and hardly appearing to care. Apollo found time to hastily return fire, but his shot went wide.

"Bad aim! You were never a match for me," taunted Artemis, unaware of the light his arrow unleashed once it had passed her by. The brilliant flash drew Orion’s attention away from the direction of their struggle. Moments later, he noticed that it had drawn the attention of something else as well.

An unearthly growl reached his ears from the shadows, and the hunter readied his knife. He looked to his left, then to his right, then chanced a glance over his shoulder. He chuckled and shivered in anticipation. "At last, my time has come," he said. "Come at me, beast."

Artemis and Apollo continued their quarrel some distance away. "Your aim is not much greater, sister" observed Apollo as he leaped above another shot. "Is that wound troubling you?"

The goddess simply grunted, unwilling to openly acknowledge the truth in his words. The Alpha had left quite a mark, and though it was bound to heal over in due course, for the moment, it hampered her ability.

She nocked another arrow, and Apollo followed course, but neither fired on the other. For the moment, they froze in place. Artemis glared while Apollo stared. Their shoulders rose and fell in unison as they took heavy breaths. Ichor dripped to the ground from the wound in Artemis’ arm.

"Why, Apollo?" she asked. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because…” Apollo’s features softened as he prepared his answer, turned it over in his head, and tossed it out. He came up with another, and then yet another, but ultimately, "You are like a child, sister," he said. "I could explain it a thousand times, and you would never understand.” He pulled his arrow back farther. "That is why I love you," he concluded with a dissonant smile.

Artemis’ harsh gaze faltered as confusion and sorrow tinted her features. At last, the twins were once more of one mind, and their emotions resonated together. But the moment was brief, and Artemis rejected it. She resumed her glare, and Apollo resumed his focus.

"I am a Goddess of Olympus," she said. "I am the Mistress of the Hunt. I am not a child!"

"Then release your arrow!" Apollo snapped back, and the goddess did not hesitate to oblige. Apollo, too, let loose his own. Both failed to hide the regret in their features as the silver and golden lights approached one another.

Their aim and timing were in perfect sync. Their arrows collided, and their powers mingled, merged, and repulsed one another, unleashing a virulent shockwave that tore into both of the twins. The flesh of Artemis’ forehead split open, unleashing a luminous stream of ichor. Apollo felt their mixed power burn into his chest, leaving a large gash that ran down the left side of his torso.

At last, the light of their arrows faded, and both fell into the dirt together as the gods were blown apart. Apollo impacted against a tree and slid to the ground. Artemis skidded through the dirt, clinging doggedly to her bow all the while.

The whole world spun and then stood still.

Apollo groaned and whimpered. Artemis struggled to sit up. She wiped her eyes in an effort to clear them of the ichor that poured from her fresh wound and looked through bleary eyes to see her brother lying there against the tree. She sighed, relieved to confirm that he was a threat no longer.

How had it come to this? In the moments she spent recovering from her disorientation and her ringing ears, her mind taunted her with flashes of days long past, when the twin gods frolicked as children might through the wild places, indulging their curiosities at every turn. They had survived together from the beginning, fighting to preserve themselves and their mother from the jealous rage of the Queen of Gods.

It hadn’t changed until, at last, they’d been welcomed to reign with their father on Olympus. Artemis had kept to her love of the wild things and nature’s bounty, but Apollo dedicated himself to the proliferation of the arts and crafts of man. It had not been a bitter divide, but the twins had felt it still. Artemis even imagined that she might have seen this coming and moved to prevent it were it not for the disparity between the desires of their immortal hearts.

Even then, she regarded her weakened brother with sympathy, and Apollo looked to her with hopeful, but weary eyes. "Brother…" she uttered. But as her hearing returned with her bearings, she heard the sounds of a struggle in the distance: the barking of a mad beast and the shouts of a man at war. Her heartbeat quickened, and her breaths grew heavy. "Orion," she uttered. "I have to save Orion."

Apollo inhaled sharply and breathed out slowly. He shook his head. Artemis swallowed hard. "I have to save Orion," she repeated. Bow still in hand, she rolled over and crawled toward the struggle. She squinted away the pain and struggled to her feet. Her body felt like lead as she pushed on after the hunter. The flowing ichor obscured the tear that dropped from her right eye.

The fallen god coughed, sniffled, and wiped away the moisture from the left side of his face. He placed his hand over his heart, and his wound began to shine.