I knew what it was the second I picked it up. I know that sounds bonkers, but I did. I didn't know anything about archery, but I don't think there was any way to mistake an arrow with red and pink fletching and with a heart shaped glass arrowhead for anything other than what it could be: one of Cupid's arrows.

Furthermore, it pulsed in my hand. It was active, alive even! This was an authentic dose of true love in projectile form.

I felt it from toes to nose. It made sense; Valentine's Day was over less than 48 hours ago. It couldn't be anything else.

I knew what I had to do. I bought a bow.

Like I said, I didn't know anything about archery. I got a target, set it up in my back yard, and started practicing. I wanted to make sure I wouldn't miss. I weighed the arrow, got regular arrows that matched that and went to it. I trained for sometimes three hours a day. My first intentional bullseye came after a month. The next a week later. I could put three out of four in the red by six months.

Every time, I thought of her eyes. I thought about how they used to sparkle and how now they just... didn't. I thought about all the quiet breakfasts and how the things that used to make her laugh or smile fell flat.

This had to work. It just had to.

Still, I waited. I took my time. I practiced through the fall and through the winter. I knew that it had to be Valentine's Day or not at all.

I sent a delivery to the house. I made sure the gate was unlocked and I specified that the package be dropped off on the back porch. I got there at six in the morning. The package was delivered at 3:15. She came out right after.

I had one moment of doubt. Just the one. What if I was really bonkers? What if this wasn't full of love? What if I hurt her?

I took a breath and cleared the doubts from my mind. I inhaled. I let it out. I inhaled again.

Draw, sight, release. Bullseye.

I had no surprise when it struck her chest and sank in, disappearing a shower of pink sparks. She stumbled for a second. Then she brushed her skirt and stood back up straight. There was something there, but I had to wait. I had to make sure it worked before I left my perch.

That was when dad came out.

"Did you open it?" he asked.

My mom turned around and saw him.

I heard her say, "Not yet, handsome."

I smiled.

Dad had been skeptical when I asked that he let me send her the box of candy, but I'm so glad he did. Now, maybe they'd get the second chance I knew they deserved.

"So...you found the arrow, didn't you?"

I should have expected it. I read Death Note, I touched an arrow I knew was run by a Greek god, the second I grab the arrow, Cupid will show up.

"Oh, don't worry about it. I expected you to grab it. Other people wouldn't have seen the arrow. This is yours."

"Wait, you gave me the arrow?"

"Everyone gets an arrow once. You mortals say 'you only get one chance at love and that's that'...well, this is how that one chance happens. You have the arrow, go for it."

"So, I can shoot anyone I want?"

"Oh, no. Mom asked me to fix that after that whole bullshit with the golden apples. It's only going to be able to hit the person who is your fated soulmate. You try hitting anyone else but them, it'll pass through them just like if they didn't see it originally. It is in corporeal form for only you and your fated person."

"So they would have chosen to be my soulmate without the arrow anyway? That feels a little cheap."

"Well, the more mortals prove they can't be trusted with weapons of mass affection, the cheaper we have to be. But on the plus side, think of it this way. Your soulmate will see the arrow even if you never use it, so you'll know just who it is."

"I guess that helps out a lot. So, when do I use it?"

"You'll know...."

Cupid vanished, and the arrow was in my hands. Well, this at least seems somewhat helpful...not sure how much, but somewhat...

I should've taken those archery lessons.

Oddly enough, your first thought after finding Cupid's arrow on the sidewalk was summer cap. Almost 2 decades your parents sent you to summer camp. The counselors told you that all the campers had to sign up to learn one new activity: swimming or archery. You loved the water. You went with swimming. Big mistake. Those archery lessons really could've come in handy right now.

You lean forward on the couch with your chin in your hand, staring at the heart-showed arrow that you laid on your coffee table.

It wasn't pink surprisingly... but it was warm. Not like a stove, or a fire, or even a blanket. It warmed you from the inside out, in a way that you'd nearly forgotten.

Again you think back to summer camp, a face popping up in your head. One with thick glasses but silky black hair and a crooked smile. Janie. She was your best friend in camp. The two of you were as close as any two preteen girls could be. You think of her and you smile.

Leaning closer, you notice an inscription on its side. Philia.

"Philia..." you mumble. You know this word. That's right, you do. It's greek... greek for love. The love of friendship.

You reach out to take the arrow in your hands and suddenly your mind is flooded with thoughts of Janie in summer camp, Lucky your old childhood dog, Ben your favorite cousin. It feels like your heart could burst, remembering all the times you spent with them, how each of them used to make you laugh and smile. How long had it been since you'd had friend who could make you feel that way again?

Your smile dips a bit, trying to remember the last time you'd actually tried to make a friend. You had your excuses, of course. Work was always so busy, going out was expensive and the divorce... well, the divorce made it very easy for you to wrap yourself up in isolation.

Hmm...

Pulling out your cellphone, you search for the nearest sporting goods store.

You don't know if you can shoot a bow and arrow... but you do know it's time that you made a new friend.

"Why the HELL do I live where the air hurts my face?", I muttered to myself, trudging through the February snow. A cold wind froze my cheeks and my eyes watered above the scarf across my face. My coat kept out about 80% of the cold. I thought about living somewhere warm, like southern California. I could do it - I had the tech skills to make it there as a programmer, or a systems analyst, but I never tried.

"Because this is HOME, boy.", I heard in the back of my head. I thought about all the times my father had said that to me when he wa alive. Every time I said anything about moving away, he'd remind me that he'd been born here, and lived his whole life here, and if it was good enough for him, it would be good enough for me. I don't think he even really liked it here, but even though he died five years ago, I could still hear every one of the things he used to say to me. I missed him, but even with him gone, it still felt like he was holding me back. My whole life had been like that. Every time I talked about getting out of the little box he'd put around me, he was the first one to shut me down.

You know, February is the worst month in Toronto. Sure, November and December are rainy and dark, and January is when it starts to really get cold, and you get snow and darkness. But February? February is the WORST. Every day it seems like there's some sort of "cold front from the Arctic" or "Polar Vortex" to deal with, and they ALWAYS seem to show up when I can't stay home and hibernate. How is it that the shortest month of the year seems to get the most fecking cold and snow? How is that reasonable? And, even worse, it was almost Valentine's Day. For years, that was the lone bright spot in the month. She and I would either hide inside together, or book a vacation down to somewhere sunny, and escape the cold and dark. But not any more. That part of my life was over this year. Now, February was going to be an unbroken slog of cold, dark, and snow.

I thought about this as I trudged through the snow on my way to the subway, every step making the snow on top of the sidewalk squeak in the cold, and feeling my footing slide on the layers of crystallized water beneath me every time I put my foot down. I just knew that I was going to be frozen by the time I got to the station, but I didn't have much choice. With only one income paying the rent now, I couldn't afford to skip shifts, and I couldn't take the risk of looking for a new job. What if it was worse than the one I had? When she was still living with me, we had a buffer - but the marriage was well and truly over, and she'd moved out and moved on, so I was stuck. I put my gloves up to my mouth, and tried to breath some warmth into them.

Just then, I saw something red sticking out of the snowbank in front of me. I stopped beside the anomaly to take a closer look. There, in the snow, was the tail end of an arrow. About a foot of the shaft stuck out of the snowbank, giving a clear view of the fletching. Weirdly, the fletching was a deep shade of red, and didn't quite look like feathers. I adjusted my bag so that it wouldn't swing around when I bent down, and pulled it out of the snowbank. The arrow was about two feet long, with a white shaft. It was quite light, and seemed to be smooth - it seemed shiny in the dim winter light.

Holding it in my gloved left hand, I brought my right hand up to my mouth, and pulled the glove off with my teeth. The winter wind numbed my fingers almost instantly, and I ran my bare hand over the arrow. I was shocked when a warmth like nothing that I'd ever felt before bloomed through me. I gasped, and then coughed as the frigid air flooded my lungs. Quickly, the warmth faded, and I hurriedly tucked the arrow under my arm, and put my hand back into the glove.

"That was SO weird!", I thought to myself. I looked closer at the arrow, and that's when I noticed the arrowhead. It wasn't a hunting tip at all - it was a heart. And it looked like it was faintly glowing. There was a glimmer of something in the middle of the arrowhead, and it seemed to almost be pulsing. I stood there, looking at it for a few minutes. The snow that the weather forecast had promised started up, with little pellets of snow pelting my face and coat as I stood there, thinking about the arrow.

Finally, I made a decision. I turned around, and headed back home to my bachelor apartment. I needed to think about this, and there was no way I was going to be able to concentrate at work. I would be interrupted far too many times, and face far too many questions from people there about what I'd found. Somehow, I knew that I didn't have much time to figure out what to do with it - it was a gut feeling, coming from somewhere deep inside. For once, I listened to my gut and headed home.

Once I got to my apartment, and out of my winter clothes, I pulled out my phone, and called my boss. I took a closer look at the arrow in the light of the kitchen - the only area with decent overhead lighting in my apartment. The shaft, in this light, wasn't one single color - it almost looked like it was made of mother-of-pearl. There was an iridescence to it and it almost seemed to shift and change in the light. The phone rang twice in my ear,

"Yeah, who's this?", came the voice of my boss, Jerry. Jerry ran the IT department at my company, and he was, without a doubt, one of the laziest people I'd ever met. He tried to pass it off as being "efficient", but the reality was that he shifted every task, responsibility and fault away from himself onto anyone that he could, and took all the credit for their efforts for himself. As the person with the longest tenure there, I was the one that usually got thrown under the bus, but, as I said earlier, I needed the job, so I never said anything.

"Hey, Jerry? It's Karl here.", I started.

"Karl, what's going on?", came his reply. I pictured him in his "office" - really, just a cubicle in the corner. The company didn't believe in anyone under the level of Vice President getting real offices. But he always called it his office, and bragged about it being in the corner, with a view out the dirty windows. I could picture him, reading something off of his computer and tapping his fingers on his desk as he talked to me. I knew he was not really paying attention to anything I was saying, so I continued before I lost my nerve.

"I'm not going to be able to make it in today.", I said. My stomach clenched, and nausea flooded into my stomach as I said this. Gritting my teeth, I continued with my excuse. "I slipped on the ice on my way in, and I'm kinda dizzy. I'm gonna stay here and work instead of coming in." On the other end of the line, I heard Karl grunt in annoyance.

"Jesus Christ, man - can't you just suck it up and come in anyways? What am I supposed to do if you're not here? You know that we're shorthanded already. Johnson and Wilkins both booked today and tomorrow off. With you out, that means that we're down to only 40% coverage on the helpdesk.", he said, his voice rising in a whine. This was the part where I usually would cave, and go in to work and do my best to "soldier on", as my father used to tell me to do. But, somehow, I resisted the urge to cave, and stuck to my guns.

"I don't think that's a really good idea, Jerry.", I started. In a flash of inspiration, I continued, "I mean, I already threw up once, and I'm REALLY dizzy. I mean, it wouldn't be good for anybody if I passed out at work, or barfed all over the CIO's laptop, would it." I could almost hear the gears spinning in Jerry's head as he thought about this.

1/2

Edited to fix names

As my fingers touched the arrow a sudden influx of repressed classics lessons came back. Here it was. One of Eros' arrows, immaculate fletching, wickedly sharp heart shaped point. It cracked with energy waiting to be unleashed.

I pondered what to do with it until I opened Insta and saw my crush going out with yet another douchebag. An idiot pumped to high heavens and my crush just like a groupie, hanging in his every word.

I looked at the reel to find out where they were. I recognised the place, grabbed my coat and closed the door behind me.

Racing to the town square, quickly moving between cafés and bars.

There they were.

I steeled my nerves, waited for a minute to calm my breath and with every once of self confidence, admittedly not much, I casually strolled up to the couple. Today being Valentine's Day I was met with hearts, Cupids, cherubs and red and pink everywhere.

I waved around the arrow and joked how I found it and how Cupid must have missed me and my crush mocks me for it. I sheepishly grin along, hurting on the inside. This ends now.

I suddenly drive the tip of the arrow, a dull dark heart shape, between the 3rd and 4th rib from the side.

As soon as the tip pierces the skin her glow fades. The arrow vanishes in an instant.

There it was. All the glaring flaws. Superficial written on her forehead, her tongue splitting to tell lies, her eyes blinded to truth. Her teeth rotten and hands grubby. Her shape reminds me of an elderly miser. Where before she would shine like a radiant star gracing me with her warmth, now she was repulsive. I gagged.

And not just me. Her date covered his nose and mouth almost retching, looking at my crush in shock. He scrambles to get up, grabs his belongings and runs. The people surrounding us gasp horrified. When she sees herself in a mirror she starts crying. Weeping.

No longer stunned I realised that I had forgotten something about Eros and his arrows. Some were meant for love and attraction. But those tipped with the dull grey lead points were for the opposite: repulsion.

It was nothing more than a faint gold glimmer tucked low in the dirt, half-shielded from the snow by a juniper tree. If I hadn't been hunting coins for the last month, I doubt I would have seen it.

I tromped over to the bush, pulled my glove out of my pocket and yanked it free. A long span of gold-veined wood, cardinal fletchings, and...a heart-shaped arrowhead. Heart shaped arrowhead? Better not be some smartass kid trying to hunt strays. I carefully balled my gloves around the sharp point, tucked it into the inside pocket of my coat. I have some research to do, I thought, and hurried on with my errands.

It was dark when I returned to my apartment. Cold. Dang furnace hadn't kicked on while I'd been out. I coaxed the furnace on, ducked into my room to pile on the layers. I pulled the arrow out of my jacket and nearly dropped it when I felt the pulsing warmth beneath my frozen fingers. Magick -- potent too. I sat on my bed, carefully turning it over and over. Set it down, pulled up firefox on my computer and got to searching. It didn't take long to confirm my suspicions. Cupid's arrows are said to spark love when they strike someone's heart. Who would I use it on? Romance had been dead for me for several years. Bad breakup and shady engagement, several toxic relationships-- no one in my family would appreciate my meddling in their love lives, either. I shook my head and decided to shower and put some life back into my limbs before I did anything else.

It was sharper than anticipated, more weapon than blessing. I closed my eyes, let out a hard breath. If this worked, my life would be easier. If it failed, the consequences would shatter what confidence I had left. My hands shook, but I spoke clearly (philautia!) before driving the arrowhead into my own heart.

Below Orion’s sneakers, he could feel the crunch as the frozen blades of grass were broken. The sun just barely cleared the three story red white brick building as it kissed the football field. The glass walls of the high school lobby focused the sunlight on the field. Orion kept his gaze downward to shield his eyes from the sunlight; his hoodie kept the morning draft from biting him too badly. Nonetheless, Orion kept moving at a brisk pace to get out of the cold sooner. Although he was early for his first class, he enjoyed the peaceful walk in the morning before most students arrived.

As he made his way across the field, his eyes spotted a dark line across the ground. A long narrow shadow was cast in his direction as the stick that cast it protruded upright from the ground stood spotlighted by the morning sun. Orion kept walking, not paying much attention to it; however, as he got closer the stick glistened. The sunlight reflected off the stick almost looked like it was winking at him.

Wondering what kind of stick could reflect light, Orion walked up to the stick and bent down to examine it. Much to his surprise, it seemed to be made of metal. In fact it was so smooth and rose gold colored, he wondered if it wasn’t some sort of expensive piece of jewelry one of the rich kids had lost. As he squinted in the sunlight to see clearer, he found that there were fins on the top as if it was an arrow.

“Arrow shaped jewelry? I guess rich people have different tastes,” Orion thought, but he knew the right thing was to turn it into lost and found. “I suppose it might have sentimental value and be irreplaceable,” he rationalized as he bent down to pick the arrow up.

Immediately as soon as he touched the arrow, a thousand voices whispered in his mind. Each one was conveying different things. Some told him stories of gods while others spoke of eternity. Orion fell to the ground and knew that he was destined to go mad. The onslaught was more than just voices although that was enough to destroy anyone. As the voices spoke, they seemed to have a direct connection to his mind. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t hear any single word as they all overlapped with each other; the information they imparted was being imprinted on his mind with no relief in sight.

“Peace,” an overarching feminine voice commanded. Suddenly it all dulled down and faded away. All the stories, counsel, and details the voices spoke of faded from Orion’s mind leaving only a faded imprint. He had curled up on the ground by now and despite the return to normalcy, couldn’t quite muster the energy or courage to get back up. As he focused on taking breaths, he eventually found his sanity. By the time he opened his eyes, the sun had settled into its place in the sky and was firmly shining over him.

Orion looked around to see if the woman who saved him was still around. Seeing no one, he became more confused. He knew that he must have been on the floor for more than just a couple of minutes so perhaps she simply didn’t want to wait for him. Of course even that explanation hardly explained a tenth of what had occurred. Deciding that he needed a mental health day, he decided to get up and go home.

As he got up, he saw the arrow was still in the ground. “Nope. No way. It’s going to be someone else’s problem,” he thought. “But what if someone else experiences what I did? It’s dangerous to leave that lying around.” And yet he couldn't bring himself to touch the arrow again; the fear of having to suffer like that was quite strong. As Orion stood there deliberating, the arrow flew out of the ground.

Only the shock of something flying at him, could have made Orion do what he did next. Without thinking, Orion grabbed the arrow as it flew backwards at him. Instantly, as he touched the arrow again, he knew he was safe. No voices came to overwhelm him. Instead, he became filled with purpose. From within him, a singular voice spoke; it was genderless and without tone or inflection as only a soundless voice could produce.

“You hold within your hand an arrow of Cupid. Any instrument of the gods holds within it the ability to upset the balance of the world for both good and evil in equal stride. Only in the hands of a god can it be safely shielded from the world. If it were to be left alone in the mortal realm, death will follow without fail, for that is the price for any cosmic shift. So did Mother Flame and Father Aether decree and so has it been for all time.”

“If only gods can touch it, why am I holding it?” Orion nervously thought. As he stood there with the arrow in hand, he heard the sounds of a crowd of students. Not sure how much of the day he had missed, he suddenly realized he had no idea what time it was. As he listened to the students through the large floor to ceiling window of the school lobby, he realized that the school day must be over as the students were making their way from the classroom to their lockers and then exiting the building.

Orion wanted to get out of there, but he also felt drawn to the crowd. He desperately wanted some sense of normalcy and needed to talk to someone about all of this. He scanned the crowd and looked for a familiar face. As luck would have it, his best friend, Sarah, walked out of the school. He started to walk towards her when she spotted him and smiled and ran towards him. Still weak from his experience, Orion stopped and waited for her to get to him.

“Hey there stranger! Were you in class today? I didn’t see you in Geometry, “ Sarah smiled again as she approached him. She was always a positive bubbly person that seemed to embody joy itself. “What’s that in your hand?”

“Hey Sarah, man am I glad to see you, “ Orion started to say. “ This thing is -”

“Sharing even knowledge of the gods' tools is enough to disrupt the pendulum upon which we swing,” the voice of knowledge spoke once again stopping Orion from telling Sarah his tale. “The arrow must be returned to Cupid for the safety of all.”

“This thing is what?” Sarah asked. She watched Orion still smiling waiting for him to finish his thought.

“It’s…” Orion began, but still not sure what he was going to say.

“Hey Sarah, let’s go! Practice is starting!” Orion was interrupted again by a group of girls in cheerleader uniforms. They were standing on the side of the football field. “Coach wants us to do a few warm up laps around the field before we head back into the gym.”

“Ugh, I’ll catch up with you after. Will you hang out and wait for me to finish practice? We can walk home together.” Sarah asked. Her smile suddenly faded as she said, “There’s something I need to talk about.”

“Um, sure.” Orion agreed as he didn’t really know what he’d do even if he was to head home right now. It wasn’t like Cupid would be in his living room. He also thought it would be good to sit down some more before moving too much. Orion slipped the arrow in his backpack.

As Orion headed into the school lobby to sit down, he watched the cheerleaders start their lap around the field. By the time he settled himself on the benches in the lobby, two very cold cheerleaders had finished their laps and walked into the lobby. They sat on the benches across on the other side of the lobby as they waited for their teammates to finish.

“So he did it in the middle of biology? What an asshole!” One of them asked. Neither of them paid much attention to Orion, only focusing on warming themselves up and chatting with each other.

“Yea he’s a tool for sure. Poor Sarah. No one deserves to be dumped publicly like that, least of all a sweetheart like her”

“Let’s take her out after practice and cheer her up.”

“Great idea! Let’s go tell coach we need to end practice early”

The two cheerleaders ran back outside. As the doors opened, a cold gust of wind from the outside hit Orion, but he didn’t mind. He couldn’t believe Sarah’s boyfriend would do something like that to her. Another gust of wind slapped Orion’s face and he noticed the doors didn’t close. He got up to close the door. As he reached the door, he could see the coach talking to the team. It seemed like she was letting the team skip practice completely.

Orion stood by the door watching the girls gather their things and head to the parking lot and their cars. Only Sarah was heading towards him. She jogged her way across the field and quickly reached the doors. Orion opened the door for her so she could get out of the cold quickly.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

[removed]