Cue 

“You have the entire lifespan of an average human. More than enough time to get your godly powers back. And if you do not, then you shall remain human.” 

You’d think that Zeus would be more unforgiving towards me, considering he no longer thought of me as someone very important in the family. Not like I wanted anything to do with him for any longer, it’s only that I was adamant I be respected as the powerful deity that I was. 

My punishment had come from absolutely nothing, in my opinion. I lived as a God, and I worked day and night to bring people together with love, I did my best throughout my immortal life to create happiness for all. But Zeus, being Zeus, had decided that the only way for me to really understand humans was to become one. 

I thought that I had done my part tremendously, though according to him, I’d lost my touch. I just had no idea why he had concluded to take my immortality. 

The new era had indeed changed, admittedly, for the better. People didn’t need me to strike them with an arrow in order to fall in love. Humans could do whatever they wanted, whenever, and they did not have to include me meddling in on their affairs. 

It became increasingly hard not to do that whilst being a mortal. From the day I was given to Professor Eva as a baby, I’d grown up side-by-side with humans, constantly tempted to trace their red string of fates or read their minds. Even in my newly frail form, I didn’t cease from trying to continue my godly duties. 

Gosh, those memories made me cringe. I didn’t meddle anymore, not since I began to understand how wrong it was for someone to snoop around in the lives of others without their permission (a thing the Gods and Goddesses really did not know how to do). It ultimately showed me that I was starting to develop into a full-fledged human. 

Whatever Zeus had done to me, I’d half-abandoned my grudge against him once I reached the graduating age of eighteen in Hiraeth. Sure, he’d taken my immortality, but he’d spared me by letting me keep my abilities to see the red string and read minds. The one part of me he had totally stolen was a large number of memories from my life as a God. I couldn’t recall everything, sadly. 

Daydreaming, I looked out my classroom window, letting each thought pass me by and into the warm wind. It was a small window, enough for me to lean on, to glimpse at the students running amuck in the great garden. Hiraeth manor hadn’t changed since when I’d attended, seven years ago. 

It was suspected by both Professor Eva and Zeus that I would become a professor once I graduated. Unlike most of my memories, I managed to retain an extensive amount of knowledge. 

I was a genius, thousands of years old, in a small body of a twenty-five year old human. 

In rare instances I even believed that I wasn’t the same Cupid of those myths. It scared me to think that I was someone new, someone who wasn’t a deity, someone who was only a human with a past-life as a God. 

My eyes stung from those revelations, but it was also because the sun was glowing much too brightly in my vision. The only thing I could make out were the clear spheres of bubbles, wading in and out of the room from the window, following the breeze. 

They were a magic trick, a simple spell crafted by the heart. The bubbles expanded according to what one felt. Love, hate, sadness, but mostly love, they grew in front of me, allowing me a look at my reflection in their serene spheres. 

I reached out, letting one sit on my palm, until it gave out and popped in a multitude of colors that disappeared once I folded my hands together. The one person who did this the most in school was none other than my assistant professor—or as I liked to call him, my errand boy. 

Without abandoning my position on the window, I turned to meet him. He was walking through the door, carrying many boxes full of potions equipment.

“You are late, Fox.” 

“I’m sorry, Cue.” Quin Fox placed the boxes gingerly on the nearest table. The fact that he could cast a bubble spell while maintaining his hold on all of those heavy objects was impressive. As expected from the topmost student of his year. 

I’d taken him on because Professor Eva had suggested it. He had needed a position in the school, to grow alongside another brilliant professor. And so he had been given to me. 

Eyeing the equipment, I left my spot to reach over the boxes at the very top. When I’d told him that I needed supplies, he had taken my request quite literally. It looked like he’d brought everything from the storage room. 

Quin watched me, hands gripping from time to time like he was nervous I’d find something at fault. I never did. He was brilliant, but I’d never indulge him in saying that. 

Exhaling, I placed my hand on his, to assure him he did well.

“It’s all here, Fox. Thank you.” 

His face lit up into a small smile. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. I could hear his thoughts once I touched him. 'Cue is happy. I’m so glad I got to see him today. He looks great as always. Wow, I’m so lucky—' 

I released my hold on him. 

He knew of my powers, but he never held back. His mind was full of his love for me, it was sort of amusing hearing all that he was saying. People had fallen for me throughout the years, though those crushes hadn’t compared to Quin. 

“Can I help you with anything else?” He asked. 

“I’m brewing a few potions for the first task,” I informed, taking out a few vials. “You can make one, if you’d like.” 

Once more, his smile widened, “Of course.” 

The other professors didn’t visibly reveal how envious they were of me. Quin was a valuable assistant, and his talents in magic were well-known in the community. I was lucky to have gotten him. Pretty soon, in a few years, he’d become a professor as well, once our contract was up. 

He hadn’t told me if he would stay in Hiraeth or move on. I wasn’t sure if his love would waver in that time. Maybe he’d fall out of love with me one day and carry on with his life. 

As a God that used to meddle in romance, he confused me considerably. I could see the red string of fate in people, but Quin’s red string was cut, no—it looked like it had been ripped apart with great ferocity and strength. It made me concerned for him. 

My own string was rather easy to cut. I’d done so years back, with crafting scissors I’d found in art class. It was okay for me to do that for myself, but for humans it was near to impossible to detach the string. Quin must’ve really wanted to choose his own fate. 

I stared at the frayed string tied to his ring finger, and then to my own cleaned cut one. We held similarities when it came to destiny. It was a dangerous way to live, messing with The Fates. 

“Don’t you know the dangers of falling in love with a God?” I warned him, once I’d sat down on the closest desk. Quin stationed himself on another one nearby, with his equipment at the ready.

“Yeah. I know.” He replied, as chipper as ever. 

“Stupid mortals,” I muttered. 

It’d be his own fault if something happened. There wasn’t a convincing amount of happy humans in ancient retellings. Usually, tragedy struck mortals in the worst ways possible. 

This certain human never appeared scared, though. Everyone was hesitant of me, whereas Quin was not. He treated me gently, respectfully, without showing fear. The first person to ever do that. 

Before I could return to Olympus, I desired to figure him out.  

Why?  

I had to figure that out, too.