Zelus is who I am now. A flightless and powerless daimon. And Jonathan is dead.

???

I STAND BY THE SHORES of the pristine white sand beach. The air is pregnant with the scent of salt as they rearrange my hair and cause the ends of my tunic to dance like a flag. The waves ascend and descend around my feet, sometimes tangling clumps of seaweed and other small treasures of the sea behind. My eyes soar high above the cauliflower-shaped clouds guarding the morning sun. Its warmth brings peace to my cheeks. The ocean reflects the blue of the sky, painting a magnificent canvas.

A new day is here, but will it be the same as yesterday?

Whenever dawn arrived, I kept hoping to wake up in my own bed, in my old life. And I'll gaze around my room, laughing in relief as I examine its imperfections, like the dirty laundry on the chair that I kept forgetting to wash, old books tossed and tumbled on my desk, and my gadget cables tangled in a knot. Instead, I constantly rise from my wood of a bed, dressed in a flimsy chiton and having my back sore from sleeping on my wings. It was no different than waking after hours of sleeping on your arm.

Not a day goes by when I do not miss the familiarities of my present life. I missed the food. Late-night frozen pizzas, mom's famous spaghetti Bolognese with extra meatballs, and sugary treats such as chocolate and ice cream. The food in this century is nothing but stale bread, plain meat and vegetables, and a shit ton of fruits. I loved apples. I'd always have them every night before heading to bed. However, after having over three of them for every meal in the school cafeteria, I loathe the sight of it, let alone the taste. I'd rather starve or choke on raw meat.

I miss my hoodies, jeans, shorts, and oversized t-shirts. I've never understood the value of fashion, even after taking a fashion design course in college. Only by living in a different century did I learn. The people here only wore tunics or chitons in many different patterns and sizes. And only upper-class citizens are permitted to purchase such expensive clothing where the fabrics are made from pure cotton, animal fur, leather, and silk. The opposite class is left with fewer options, mostly the shorter, plain tunics made from wool, like mine. I guess I'm somewhat in the middle, as I also own silk material tunics.

While I miss my clothes and wish to feel the comforts of my favorite hoodie around my body one last time, I miss nothing regarding footwear. I wore gladiator sandals back then; now, everyone's wearing them. My legs had the pleasure of trying over thirteen pairs of sandals, each with a unique appearance. My favorite is pure leather, which supports my feet, especially on scourging hot days when the roads are burning, and the remaining straps reach above my knees. I adore the footwear of this century. Probably the only thing I'll ever admire.

Material possessions aside, I missed Ryan the most. I missed waking up with my face drenched in her slobber, the loyalty of following me everywhere I went, our cuddling naps by the couch, and our trip to the dog park where I'd watch her have fun with the other dogs. Every night, after praying that I'll wake up in my own room the next day, I'll close my eyes and imagine Ryan sitting in front of me as I place my palm over her head, pretending she's really here. If I remained in this century forever, I would want to remember how Ryan's head felt in my hands. The size, her fur, the warmth, everything.

I missed her the most.

I stroll along the never-ending shores, the tip of my wings dragging by the sand, my footprints leaving a trail. The pathway is unknown, but it doesn't matter. I was already lost a month ago when I came to the eighth century.

Mom and dad, Max, Victoria, Valerie... Ryan. My family... they're gone. And I wonder if I'm the one to blame. Perhaps they exist in an alternate reality I'm not a part of, or I never truly existed, to begin with.

Zelus is who I am now. A flightless and powerless daimon. And Jonathan is dead.

I think.

I don't know the history behind Zelus and the people of this city, but everyone knew him as the daring one who chose to live among them rather than with his own kind. Why? No one knows. Not even me, and I'm Zelus.

Some things were improving while some weren't, or maybe they were getting worse. My life in the king's school is one of them. The instructors focused more on training classes, and everyone favored that. It's the same as the schools in the twenty-first century where the students prefer sports over studying. Well, everyone but me, for I am a fish out of water. A bloody fish, that is, as everyone's got a fair share of my blood on their hands. From bows to swords and spears, they were all skilled, perhaps even surpassing their instructor, while I couldn't get past the first step, balancing the sword in my hand. The weight of the silver made me believe I was carrying a calf.

My studies were decent, primarily in Science, where I aced the explanation of the photosynthesis process and animal anatomy. Undoubtedly, the lessons here were easier than in the twenty-first century. Or maybe it's because I'm repeating the age of nineteen.

Though no matter what century I'm in, Maths will forever suck.

The friends—acquaintances—I've made were constantly throwing questions my way, asking why I'd gotten weak when I used to be the most audacious student or the only one who could fly. I would've joked with them and asked if they thought I was some kind of god or something, but I held my words when I noticed the heavy feathers attached to my spine. I'm no god, but I'm definitely something relating to them.

Whenever there was a free period, I'd leave the castle grounds and flee to an open field where I believed nobody would find me. It's the only place where I could practice my flying skills as I'm doing right now, here on this beach.

I thought back on every possible method of flying that I've read in comics or watched in movies. Some claim that it's all in our minds. I just have to think of what I want them to do, and they'll do it. However, I've established that this doesn't work because from the very beginning of this life, flying was all I ever wanted, and it still is, but here I am, with my feet on the ground. Another method is similar to an airplane taking off, where I'd have to charge against the wind and let it catch my wings before lifting me up.

It didn't work. All it did was give me more bruises that I could be a work of art displayed in an art gallery.

I've been practicing since the break of dawn, and class will commence anytime soon. I call it a day and peer to the sky where the seagulls—or as Victoria would call them, flying rats— effortlessly fly over the sea surface, eyeing their prey below. My eyes mainly focused on their wings and their methods of flying, and still, it was pointless. They flew gracefully and elegantly, while I couldn't even jerk them. It's as if they were mocking my flightless inability by simply being them.

I never thought the day would come when I'd feel jealous of birds.

In the end, the thought of giving up wasn't an option. At least not for flying. Back home, Alex wanted to help my phobia of cars by inventing Wings. He's invested his allowance and time into this project, determined to get it working. It was pointless trying to stop him, as he's just that stubborn. Even when he's gone, the project continues because now, it's not just for me, but for him too. He's with the Gods now, and when I can spread my wings and feel the clouds around my body when the day comes, I know he'll be flying with me. And that was the only reason I needed to keep going.

...

"You're early, my Lord," Bethany takes my books and carries them to my room. "How was school?"

"The same," and by that, I meant utterly dreadful.

Today, the class focused more on wrestling, also known as a sport I despise participating in because personal space is non-existent. To make things worse, the opponent's ass will often be in the other's face. And in this century, it terrifies me, as most boys here only wore loincloths, barely covering anything as coverage. As always, what I feared happened, and many sweaty imbeciles pummeled me down. I'm grateful they went easy on me now that we're friends. Sort of.

In the end, the instructor claimed I needed more training. Clearly, a lot of it. Well, if I remain in this century permanently, I have all the time in the world to practice.

"Would you like the usual?" I drag my heavy legs upstairs to my room, where a tray of food sits on the desk. Bethany's grown used to attending to my wounds that now she calls it the usual.

"No, thank you. I'll manage for today," there were only minor bruises, and the rest were internal soreness.

"Understood; let me know if you require anything else," she began walking towards the exit.

"Wait."

She turns around.

"Would you happen to know if I have a family here?" Her mouth opens but then closes as if what she's about to say isn't relevant. "Or parents?"

"You do," my heart was confused about what to feel when she said that.

"Who are they?"

"If I recall correctly, after the Gods have claimed victory in the Titans War, your father, Pallas, was vanquished by the Athena, but I do not know how or why. Your mother—"

"Pallas? As in the Titan Pallas?" My legs nearly went numb as I dropped to my bed.

"Yes."

My father is a Titan?! The first question that comes to mind is how am I—a daimon—related to a Titan?

Is my mother a daimon?

And how is my father? What are his characteristics? His appearance? His behaviors?

Though, asking Bethany all these questions will only raise her guard, thinking I'm an imposter or I've been possessed with dark magic.

But I need my answers.

"What about my mother?"

"Your mother, Styx, the daughter of the Titans Oceanus and Tethys, was an ally of Zeus during the war. She also brought you and your siblings, Kratos, Nike, and Bia, to stand with him in battle. The battleground was a bloodbath for ten years between the Gods and the Titans, but in the end, the Gods remain supreme," she hesitates to continue as to see how I'm drenched in my own sweat even when the night is cold. "Should I continue, my Lord?"

"Please," that word slipped past my lips like a cut.

"In honor of her powerful contribution, Zeus made her rivers the agent of oaths which will forever bind the Gods," her eyes wander around the room, her thinking expression looking more obvious each second. "I'm afraid that is all I remember, my Lord. Forgive me."

"No!" My sudden reply widens her eyes. "I mean, no, thank you. That is more than enough, Bethany. It's very helpful."

The soft smile returns to her face.

"I'm glad to help," she beams. "Is there anything else you'd like to know before I take my leave?"

If only she knew the many questions running through my mind. The fear I'm feeling knowing I'm related to a Titan and a daughter of the sea being. It still confuses me how am I a daimon when neither of my parents is?

And just that thought had conjured another question.

"What about my siblings, Bethany?"

"Kratos, your older brother, possesses immense strength unlike no other. Nike, your older sister, the Goddess of Victory, and the youngest one, Bia, the Goddess Personifying Force, and Power," at this point, I'm starting to think my actual family had followed me to this century as all the information sounds vaguely similar. Zelus has three siblings, and so do I, all of the same age. Not that I know how Gods and Goddesses age.

"Do you know where I could find them?"

"I don't, my Lord," she says. "You occasionally visit your family, but you never share stories of your journey when you return. Hence, I do not know who or where you visited them. I know that you couldn't speak to your mother and father, and only to your sibling. But again, I do not know why that is."

Damn it, Zelus! If only you were more open before I possessed your body, I would've got more information to continue living as you.

"I don't know if this would help, but maybe you could try praying to the Gods or Goddesses you wish to encounter," she suggests. "Certain people had claimed this method to be true, while some denied it. If you want to know who speaks the truth, you could try summoning them by praying at the stream in the far north forest."

And that is precisely what I'm going to do.

I need answers.