1.7 – A to Z

The little boy galloped around the lawn with such tenacity it was almost purposeful, “Look at me, mama! Look at me!”


The bustling, vibrant culture of Isla Paradiso subsided surprisingly quickly into what immigrants of the islands referred to as the ‘cold season’. After all, having experienced much harsher conditions, ‘winter’ seemed far too strong a word for his strange state, yet calling it anything else would seem simply incorrect.

Call it what you want, but the effects remained very much the same and however undeniably this may have seemed all an extra bother, one constant remained. His name was Zeus Aegis.

While everything else slowed down, little Zeus did nothing but speed up; his raw thirst not so much for knowledge as it was for energy and movement. That was not to say, of course, that the young lad wasn’t in any way intelligent – because indeed he was.


And although his family hung on his every mispronounced word and pandered to his every need, it was fair to say his nature had its flaws; most especially to his parents, whose busy schedules rendered them unable to keep up with his antics.

Or, at least, that was certainly how it felt that day.

“Mama, look!” he repeated, his young voice growing somewhat impatient, “You’re not looking!”

“I am, Zeus, I see you!”

The toddler stopped in contemplation, his eyebrows furled so much they almost obscured his bright blue eyes, before, as toddlers generally do, re-occupying himself with something that at that time must have seemed much more interesting.


A sudden chilling breeze blew across the flat lawns of the park, so strongly that it was heard quite clearly over the incessant blare of Snowflake Day music; yet the once luminous array of flora stayed stone still in its icy coat. The equally frozen blanket of grass did too, leaving only the crushing imprints of footsteps.

Although Zeus’s cognitive abilities were not so developed as to understand, let alone track, the confusing and rapid exchange of simlish conversation, he eyed the woman who talked with his mother curiously. Names (other than ‘mama’ and ‘dada’) naturally mean little at such a young age; though his mother knew this woman as Persephone Han, the wife of Alex’s boss, and a very close companion.


He watched hopelessly unaware as the two continued to smile and giggle and celebrate. This was, in itself, hardly out of the ordinary. His short memory failed to locate a situation in which a genuine smile did not rest on his mother’s pretty face, the face that continued to love and care for him since the very day of his birth. It was just the fuss she made over Rhea’s (somewhat growing) stomach that might have seemed a little strange to any sim under the age of five.

Warm, comforting arms distracted little Zeus from his train of thought, and another very familiar face filled his vision, with the same blonde mop of hair and sky-blue eyes. His father’s long fingers proceeded to tickle him as relentlessly as always; leaving, as much as he’d like to fight back, Zeus weak with wracks of laughter.


He listened intently between his play to his parents talking with the same excitement that had been present in their voices for some time. And, although he recognised this, he remained unknown of its source and the change it would bring.


After all, there were many more important things for a toddler to think about.

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