I was feeling a bit woozy, so I wandered out of the celebrations for some fresh air. Apollo's light was hovering over his temple...I couldn't resist it, and was led to him. I knew what he wanted...he wanted me: all of me. And yet, I desired the 'gift' of prophesy so badly....
Apollo granted me my wish; I first saw happy visions. Creusa and Aeneas, Hector and Andromache playing with their respective children, the people of Troy dancing with joy.
And then he demanded my payment to him.
We were so close! He was kissing me, caressing my body, being as gentle as an experienced man (or god) should be with a virgin. I was nervous, and he did all he could to calm me down, convincing me that Athene was not watching, that I would be safe, that there was no curse on my body.
But I saw and felt something that...
As soon as Apollo slipped my dress off of me, and I was lying naked upon his altar, I quietly started to panic. I was trembling and panting; I felt as if I had already felt the sensation of my skin on the cold stone with the warmth of a man on top of me. When Apollo tried to spread my legs, I did not feel the soft hands of a god gently touching me, but the huge scarred, calloused hands of a warrior groping at my thighs.
I have never felt such shame...
I couldn't go through with it. I feared Athene's wrath...I feared pain...and I feared the shame that I had felt.
And now I have been cursed by the god to always speak the truth but never be believed. What have I done to myself?
Protect me, Athene. I will never forsake you.