Ahe'ey - 2 Gravitational Pull by Jamie Le Fay Page A

years ago—alive, passionate, intelligent, and master of a disarming candour. She used kindness, knowledge, and wit to move mountains. He realised he was staring at her, so he lowered his eyes. He took a step to his right, away from her, smiled, pointing to the portrait of Athena, the war goddess and said, "She reminds me of a dear cousin. I hope to have the opportunity to introduce her to you one day. Sky is a very special woman—a leader, like you." He was unable to hide a tightness in his voice, as memories rose.
    "I'd be delighted. You know," she continued, "Danaë and Athena are both faces of every woman—vulnerability and power. I wonder when people will stop just valuing women as childbearing and sexual objects. They hunt and lust after youth, beauty and virginity, and then use and discard them, casting them out as old whores. We have such a long way to go to move past these old archetypes and symbols of womanhood.
    "The pursuit to preserve the best genes is the puppet master that controls us all. Worth is reduced and simplified to external beauty as everything else is too difficult to measure. The victims fall on both sides of the divide—the ones that have it and the ones that don't."
    "Have what?"
    "Beauty."
    "That's true for women, but not for men."
    "That's a rather definite statement," he said with a smile.
    "I don't see how being handsome can possibly harm a man. It's just another cheap privilege that took zero effort to attain." She replied, distracted at the sight of Klimt's Goldfish and Water Snakes paintings. He watched her get lost inside the pure femininity adorned in gold, ochre, and red that lay in front of her.
    "Perhaps you are being a bit unfair–"
    "Am I? Pretty girls are objectified, sexualised, and rarely taken seriously. Handsome men are glorified; it just seems to enhance their other qualities." She suddenly stood up to face him, as if processing her own words. "Well, I mean, you know, it's harder for women. I bet your dashing looks have provided opportunity." Her words were coated in honey as if apologising for her ill-considered outburst.
    "I've paid for my looks all my life Morgan. You, of all people, should know to look beyond the surface." He murmured, walking toward the door, turning his back to her as his eyebrows came down with the weight of memory.
    "Gabriel, I'm sorry, I… didn't mean to offend you." She walked toward him, placing her hand on his arm. "I'm a fool, a judgmental fool. I was thoughtless, distracted by all this beauty. Thank you. You're so kind to bring me here. You don't know how much this means to me. Gabriel…"
    It took him a few moments to dig himself out of the hole of painful memories triggered by her words. The disgust and fear in the faces of half of the population of Ahe'ey was hard to forget. "I'm sorry. I should be apologising. You have unintentionally hit a very raw nerve. Sorry."
    "Would you like to share?" she offered, her voice full of regretful compassion. "I'm an idiot."
    He took a deep breath and turned to face her with an open smile, recovering his composure. For one brief moment, he unleashed his Ange'el glow—a beaming smile so powerful that washed away her anxiety and regret.
    "No, perhaps some other day. Shall we go for a walk? We have plenty of treasures to experience." Morgan followed him happily, still under his Ange'el charm.
    Gabriel worked to contain his inner demons. He felt guilty every time he used his powers. He promised never again to use them on her. I will not be your puppet master, no matter what happens. The gifts of the Ange'el were a double-edged sword. The impact of his appearance was nothing when compared with the potency of his mind. He often wondered if the people of Ahe'ey were right; many feared and distrusted him. The Yi'ingo likened him to the monster that had started the war—Sathian, his kinsman and his mirror image. Perhaps his uncanny resemblance to Ahe'ey's worst villain was more than skin deep? He pushed