Chapter 5

Hera looks at the four corners of the hall. She makes sure that she got everybody's attention. "Just like what's on our tradition, every time a god or a goddess will turn eighteen. Cupid," she glances at me. "Please come and join us here," she continues, gesturing her left hand, inviting me to walk in front.

Everyone looks at me. Percy pushes me to stand. I give him a glare. He laughs, not minding the daggers I throw to him. I sigh, slightly pouting my lips. I stand and walk towards Hera's position.

I expect this to happen. I will be the center of attraction tonight. It is our tradition to stand in front of everybody and speak words of thanks to everyone and such - a thanksgiving message. And I hate it. I hate this attention everyone is giving me. Their eyes are focused on me as I make my way to where Hera is standing, passing every occupied tables.

The tables are covered by a white cloth. There is a small flower vase placed in the center of the table with colorful arrangement of flowers on it. Five pairs of fork and knife are set on both sides of each plate - fork on the left side and knife on the right side.

Hercules ushers me to mount on a two-step stair. He pats my back. "Happy birthday, Cupid," he greets, making an eye contact, smiling.

"Thanks."

This is weird. Hercules is acting weird. We're not really close and as far as I remember we don't talk to each other before. The way he smiles, it's more like a simper. I shake my head, clearing every thought that clouds my mind. It's not my business anymore and I don't care what he is trying to do.

Hera moves her hand, leading me to stand beside her, which I followed. "State your message, Cupid. Anything you want to say," she whispers.

I twitch my lips. Sometimes, I really don't get the logic of some of our traditions - celebrating every eighteenth birthday of a god and goddess and demigods, saying our message because finally we are proclaimed as a legal god and goddess - in which most of us don't care.

I look around. Everyone is expecting me to say something, to say my gratuitous thanks. I take a deep breath. I clear my throat. "Good evening. This will only take a short time. All I want to say is thank you," I say, like what they are expecting. "Thank you for coming to celebrate with us and to witness my eighteenth birthday celebration. Once again, good evening."

Hera laughs silently; her shoulders move up and down. "And that's our Cupid of few words. And now, the angels will serve the foods we prepared. Let's just wait until they are done serving before we eat. For now, enjoy everyone's company. Cheers!" She raises her glass of halfway full of champagne. Everyone do the same.

I walk back to my seat without paying any attention to every guest I pass by. I see my parents seating on a table together with the other members of the council. For sure, I am their main topic. I'm sure about it. They will talk about what my powers will be and other things that affect my life as a god.

I sit on my chair. I press my elbows on the table; I rest my chin and cheeks on my palms. I heave.

Someone hits my arm. I gawk. I see Percy looking at me intently. "You're not interested on this feast, right Cupid? Don't lie. I can clearly see it on your actions."

"Yeah."

I stare on one of the windows near us. I should not be here at this moment. I must be on Earth at this point of time breaking mortal hearts, put their lives in despair and slaying weak humans.

An angel places a smaller plate on top of the plate that was set already on the table; it was full of dishes, just the usual food we eat. The angel fills our glass with red wine.

Zeus clears his throat making all eyes look at him. He stands up from his seat; he's on the table with the council.

Hercules closes the gap between him and his father, Zeus. He moves closer to Zeus' ear, utters something. Whatever it may be, none of us can hear it unless you have an extraordinary hearing. Zeus nods his head, listening to what his son is saying. After a while, Hercules goes back on his seat. He seats on a table with his clique, smiling naughtily.

"My son, Hercules, have prepared a little surprise for Cupid," Zeus announces. He then looks at Hercules. Hercules snaps the fingers of his right hand.

A hologram appears in the air. It makes commotion; murmurs and side comments create a high volume of whispers; one by one they look at me giving me glares and unbelievable faces like I did something they don't like.

"Cupid," Percy mutters. "You really did that?" he asks, pointing the hologram floating in thin air.

I glance on the hologram. There, I see myself flapping my wings to create strong waves of wind, making wounds and bruises on their, the couple, skin; smashing the back of the man to the cemented seat. It shows how I shatter the hearts of my first victim into pieces, the couple who pass by me when I was sitting on our, my and Psyche's, favorite bleacher. It stops before my mother interfered, then it flashes the second couple I effortlessly broke their happiness, making them cry in despair; how I smite the knife from the running criminal to the chest of the guy; how I break the guy's ribs, ripping his heart inside; how I smile seeing them fall. It transitions to the latest and the third couple whom I twisted their happy ending into a tragic ending, the newly wedded couple; how I strip them to kiss the ground; how I break the bones of those mortal who interfere; how I roll them inside the red carpet; and how I burn them into ashes.

I smile, wickedly. I really love seeing those humans burst their warm tears.

"Cupid!" Ares, my father, shouts, standing up, slamming his hands on their table. I can barely see how his nose widens in anger. He stroll the space between us. He grips my left arm using his right hand, lifting me into the air. "We didn't raise and taught you to fight just to kill innocent lives without any reason."

"I have my own reason, Father. I have my selfish," I emphasize the word selfish with sarcasm, "reason to take their lives just like what mother did to Psyche," I rebuttal.

He raises his left hand, forming it into fist. He's ready to hit me.

"You're going to hit me, Father? Go on. I'm not afraid to be smacked by your bare hands," I say, not intimidated by neither his look nor presence. They teach me to intimidate and not to be intimidated, when I was still a kid. Seeing their, father and mother's, looks won't affect me. I grow up seeing their serious and creepy look and ready to kill eyes.

"You. You don't respect us. You must be punished until you realize all the things you did were wrong," clenching his jaw, he lectures. He puts his fist at his side, breathing heavily. He puts me on my feet. "Rafael, Lucas, bring him to my room. Aphrodite, follow me," he faces the council and the other guests, "Apologize for this disturbance we made. This won't happen again," he adds, full of authority, stomach in, chest out. He turns his back, strides his legs forward. My mother stands up and trails after my father.

Rafael and Lucas hold my arms with both of their hands; Rafael is on my right, Lucas is on my left. They follow my father's footsteps, forcing me to walk but I combat from their grasp. I struggle my arms, shaking my arms from my back to front and back and forth. They're treating me like a child; they're carrying me on their arms. I'm an adult. I'm eighteen. I can do whatever I may want to do. I can decide on my own.

It is such an awkward and embarrassing moment. Our relatives see how they treat me like this. I notice some of my cousins' laugh on my situation; some just shrugs it away, and some flashing pity on their eyes.

I spot Hercules leers. Why is he acting like that? Does he hate me or what? I don't know his reason why he exposed those things. As what I have said, we're not close. And before, we don't mind one's business.

Rafael and Lucas put me on a couch in front of my father. Then, they stand at my back side by side. Ares sits on his white painted chair, resting his elbows on the armrest, intertwining his hands on his abdomen, sticking his back on the backrest. Aphrodite sits on a chair beside Ares.

Ares clears his throat. "Cupid, I will not tolerate this. I will not let you continue this doing, Cupid. You disappoint me. As punishment, I will get all your skills on fighting and be unable to fight."

"No! You can't do that to me, Father!" I stand up. Rafael and Lucas hold my shoulders, stopping me to show aggression to my father. "Let me go, Archangels!" I brush their hands off. They tighten their clutch, forcing me to sit back.

"Stop acting mulish, Cupid. You forgot everything that I taught you and that is discipline. You must be disciplined, again," Ares reacts, calmly.

"I'm no mulish, Father. I just did what I think is right," I stand again but I was pushed back by Rafael and Lucas.

"Yes, you are, Cupid. You are refusing to every word I say. You do not listen. And you think taking one's life is good? You're a god. But you still do not have the right to take it just to feed yourself satisfactions, Cupid. I'll send you back to the Earth but you cannot use any of your skills – strength to one on one, to be invisible. And you are unable to move unless there's a human wishing you to do something." Mother holds his left hand, squeezing it.

I lull for a moment. What is he talking? I will not be able to move? What is he planning?

"What do you mean I am not capable to move?" puzzled, I question.

"The literal meaning, son, you cannot move any part of your body," he lathers.

"What?" my voice raise.

"You will know it the moment you'll experience it, son, Cupid."

Aphrodite looks at him, worried. "Is it really the only way to discipline our son?"

He nods. "Yes, Aphrodite. This is the only way to learn his lessons; the best way to make him realize."

I don't like it. I may not know what's on my father's head right now but I know it is not good. It will cause trouble on my part. I smell a dilemma that is coming in my way.

Father stands up, comes near me. He stops in front of me, standing, looking down on my face. He bears down his right thumb on my forehead, holding my head, and his other hand holds my right pulse. He closes his eyes. He murmurs something in a language I do not understand, somewhat like a ritual – a spell.

Suddenly, I feel like his hands absorb my inner force, my energy. I feel like I am drained by his hands. I feel tired. My arms fall on the armrest. I feel like I am a lifeless. I cannot feel any of my body part excluding my brain.

Rafael and Lucas let me go from their control. My body slump on the chair I am sitting, sliding, from the upper part of my spine to the back of my head kisses the backrest, both of my hands hang on the side. I am paralyzed. My eyelashes are attempting to fall. I try my best not to close my eyes.

"You must learn your lesson, Cupid."

Darkness swallows my consciousness.