Recalling the Battle on the Granicus, where Alexander went in alone, Artemis laughed lightly. Perseus clearly remembered Alexander's zeal to cross the river first, and it seemed he wouldn't let his king do so again.
...
The Persians didn't tarry to respond. Their own cavalry reacted swiftly. Forming up across the battlefield, the Persian riders charged towards Parmenion's formation, where his own Greek horsemen were running back and forth in front of the hoplite shield wall.
The familiarity of the situation struck Artemis, as she recalled the Battle at the Granicus just half a year earlier. Only this time, Artemis could see that the Persian army wasn't full of provincial troops and hastily gathering farmers. The glittering golden spears of the Persian royal guard that sat in the center was a testament to that. Additionally, from her position, she could see a covered chariot deep in the Persian ranks. Such a luxurious machine of war, which protected the rider from the hot desert sun, could only belong to one person. They hadn't discussed this in the council meeting, but Artemis knew that Alexander was fixed on the idea of meeting Darius in close combat, King to King. She only hoped that Perseus would be aware of the danger that such a prospect would be.
A sudden breeze blew by her, making the long grasses around her bow in supplication. Her hair flew upwards, as the very air seemed to contort wildly around her. Turning her gaze from the coming battle, Artemis whirled around from her standing position, on the rock outcrop, to find the source of the wind. There was a dull, distant throbbing deep within her chest, and Artemis had a hard time placing the feeling. The air continued to slam against the rock outcrop, not strong enough to bowl her over, but she had to concentrate on maintaining her balance. 'What was this?' She thought to herself. 'It was no natural thing for wind to howl upwards on an otherwise calm day…No natural thing…'
Artemis suddenly placed the tightness in her chest to a familiar warning: An immortal was nearby.
Without thinking, Artemis raised her bow, and nocked a bronze arrow. The whipping winds doubled in strength, but Artemis planted herself firmly, wedging her sandaled feet into a rocky crag.
"Show yourself! I know you are here." Artemis shouted above the roaring air that blasted around her.
A deep feminine chuckle reverberated in her ears, momentarily distorting her mind around the words that had significant power alone. But the winds did start to die down to a stillness around her. Artemis turned wildly, seeing nothing, before the same voice spoke from behind her.
"Well met, Phoebus Artemis. I cannot say I am happy to see you though, given the present circumstances." Artemis froze, before turning to meet this unfamiliar immortal.
The sight before her eyes almost made her look away in supplication. The Goddess before her eyes was slender, dressed in silk Persian robes that hugged her figure in an awestriking way. Artemis could barely fathom the sight before her eyes, and she struggled to hold the immortal's gaze.
"Who are you?" Artemis asked, the request coming out more labored than she would have liked. The sudden strain was unnerving, as she felt exposed and vulnerable.
The immortal, who was only slightly taller than herself, did not smile. Her face was a smooth light brown, which had a golden underglow alighting her cheeks. Dark black hair streamed down her back in a cascading wave that seemed endless, framing the immortals' feminine shoulders and graceful forearms, both without blemishes. Yet the most striking feature that Artemis was drawn to this immortal's eyes: Dark pools of black glowering at her with a burning hatred, that seemed to absorb Artemis's own spirit into their dark depths.
"I am Anahita, Goddess of Rivers, and of War. I watch over all who are provided life from the waters of the East and defend those who pray to me. You are not welcome here, nor are these foreign invaders." Anahita spoke, her voice sliding through the air as like it was a meandering river, of unstoppable force. The sheer subtle power behind Anahita's statement almost buckled Artemis's knees.
Through it all, Artemis dove through her memory, for any recollections of Anahita. The farthest East she had been was the site of Teucer's bloodline, the Ancient City of Troy. The Trojans did not worship anyone by the name of Anahita. This was a Persian Goddess and powerful one, even more so since Artemis did not know her capabilities.
"Anahita, as a Goddess of the Hunt, I share your love for all nature things. This," Artemis gestured to the charging ranks of the two armies, "is not my doing. "She studied the Goddess in front of her. Without the full mental weight of the Goddess's looming presence, Artemis found her mental capabilities restored.
"I already know. Your thoughts are as bare as the rocks of a dry riverbed. That does not change the fact that you are meddling in affairs that are forbidden of us immortals. Which is something neither I, nor my counterparts are willing to stand by and watch." Anahita's expression slowly darkened, and her soothing voice hardened into ice, which was accompanied with a cold wind picking up around Artemis. She watched warily, her bow lowered to the ground.
"I have honored the ancient laws, Persian Goddess. I will raise no arms to any Persian. I am only here to advise and combat any monsters this expedition comes across."
"I have heard tale of your stubbornness. The Greek Pantheon truly think themselves to be the rulers of all things. I cannot risk such hubris to whisper into the ears of invaders of my birthplace." Anahita spoke, raising her arm towards Artemis. It glowed an ethereal blue, like two bright coiling snakes winding up her forearm. A cold dread filled Artemis's heart, and she instinctively raised her bow, and fired an arrow directly at Anahita's face. However, the shaft dissolved midair like dew under a blazing sun. Wide eyed, Artemis felt the glowing blue aura consume her vision; she braced herself, closing her eyes to await the feeling of a sharp piercing pain that came with a magical blow.
Only, it never came.
Another bright light glowed, a calming golden hue that offset the eternal blue. It was a familiar warmth, that layered itself over her in protective waves.
Artemis opened her eyes, to see Apollo, her twin brother, standing in front of her with a frown etched on his normally jovial face. He stood in his mortal form, with a fitting white toga strung with bolden cords, with a golden band keeping his sandy hair in check. Anahita's spell was countered by the magic of her brother, and Artemis felt a mixture of relief, and shame. Her brother's appearance was reassuring that he still watched over the Macedonian expedition, but never had she needed his help for anything, not since before the time that they were Gods.
"Anahita, you should know that immortals are forbidden from meddling in the affairs of mortals." Apollos voice flowed out of his mouth in a grace that Artemis never noticed before. It was the voice of a person that Artemis wanted to keep listening to. Dull alarm bells rung in her mind as she struggled to rein in the presence of two immortals and their auras.
'Is this what all mortals go through? Did Perseus have similar affects from me?' Artemis wondered briefly, finally freeing her mind from the attraction of her brother's aura.
"You overstep your place, son of Ammon," Anahita spat, the first features of rage spilling over her serene expression, "Familial love drives your judgement."
"As does your own," Apollo hotly replied, "Phoebus Artemis has no immortality, it was taken from her. I know you can sense it, and an attack on a mortal has consequences, even for you. Zeus's reach is far indeed, and his temper far shorter. Even attacking a banished Goddess will have its repercussions."
Anahita paused, before slowly circling Apollo and Artemis. Even though she knew her brother was strong, Artemis did not know if he could challenge such a Goddess. A sudden clash of weapons and the screams of men and beasts alike snapped her vision away from the tense stand off between the Persian Goddess and Apollo.
The Macedonians had impacted against the Persian right, and Artemis watched in fascination as the hundreds of heavy equestrians slammed into the infantry ranks of the Persians. It was a chaotic slaughter, as each side vied for advantage. On the opposite side of the field, the exact opposite was occurring, as the Persian-Bactrian formations charged against the tight defensive flank that Parmenion held.
But it was the center that ultimately drew her gaze in for the longest look over. The brutal march of the Macedonian phalanx against Persian arrows littered the riverbanks and the river itself with hundreds of bodies. The phalanx formations struggled to maintain their cohesion, while the Macedonian skirmishers- the Pellians and Balearics both- scrambled to return fire from unorthodox positions in the river and on the sandy banks of the river.
Even if the Macedonian center breached the river, Artemis could see the battalions of Greek mercenaries that were poised to charge down upon the Macedonian ranks.
"The battle is joined," Apollo said, "I take my leave."
Artemis turned back to him, but he still was addressing Anahita, who looked undecided on her course of action. There was a tense silence as Artemis witnessed a standoff that could turn into an immortal duel in the blink of an eye, but the tension was suddenly cut when Anahita's expression morphed into one of resentment, and she disappeared into a fine mist.
"Apollo…" Artemis began hesitantly, looking at his face.
"Don't worry little sis. I got your back. Say hullo to Perseus for me!" And without deny, he too disappeared into the ether. Artemis immediately scowled because of his last remark, but her attention was again pulled away from the thoughts of what had just occurred on her little hill.
...
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