To My Maternal Granddad, Kenneth Moxey:
I hardly knew you, but you are never forgotten.
Blood of Atreus- The Lost Hope of Gods and Mortals
The
Goddess stood alone in the train station, hidden by a cloak of shadows. Crowds
of mortals moved around her like fish swimming in tidal currents- some
searching for a way out, some searching for their next current, and hundreds
waiting to join their chosen shoal.
To
Athena, all were lost. They had forsaken her and their oaths. She hated them
for this. She wanted to love them as she once had, but they were so quick to
worship words over actions, theory over practice, and myth over history. How
could they have forgotten they needed her as much as she needed them?
Her
growing hatred reflected itself in the bursting charcoal clouds above. An
orchestral, tip-tap, tip-tap, began to dance on the glass ceiling of the
station. It looked like there could be thunder and lightning, Athena ignored
the elemental reminder of her long dead father. All she cared about now was the
mortals and her connected fate; their faith was weak and fragile, therefore her
life-force and power was too.
She
longed for the golden age of devotion and the benefits. To once more radiate
divine beauty, pirouette between stars, and be worshipped by legions would be
exquisite. Such an existence was ecstasy, but she was rejected, restricted and
repulsive. So much so, the hood of her gritty grey cloak, which blended with
the shadows, was necessary to hide her purple warts, crooked brown teeth and
lopsided features. Her face made the mortals recoil and it broke her heart.
They preach of
inner beauty’s importance, she mused.
Yet, almost all are too selfish and vain for it to live in their souls. Fiction
is their limit, as it is with believing in me.
Mortals
had long forgotten the power the old gods could give was real, preferring gods
who were passive and idle. Thanks to the torment and loss over the millennia,
Athena had realised the rejected gods only had themselves to blame. They had
played with mortals like toys. And thus humanity had abandoned most of them,
and become blind to their own weakening passion for life. If nothing changed,
the consequence would be the complete destruction of immortals and mortals
alike.
With
the intensity of a thousand suns, Athena vowed her second reign would be
different. She would find a hero or heroine to save them. She would not take
the mortals for granted again. Yet, it appeared she would never get a chance.
And here she was, feeling the rage, bitterness and despair of a fallen goddess.
All thanks to failing another desperate attempt to restore her divinity. Her
power was almost dried up now. When it was gone, hope would die, and so would
she.
An
atomic shockwave of unique feelings exploded inside her and burned away the
hate. It was the pull. The pull had come already. A pull stronger than any she
had felt in a long time. Someone close had true heroic potential and could be
the one to restore her.
So
soon and so strong, she thought. I
wasn’t even trying to find one yet.
She
shook her head to dispel the confusion and tried to keep naïve hope at bay. Her
gaze darted frantically.
Where are you?
Where are you? Where in this cursed cosmos are you?
Suddenly,
the station clock rang out, ‘Clang.’ A piercing whistle followed, and a cloud
of white steam rolled across a nearby platform as a train hissed and squeaked
out of the station. The clock’s repeating, ‘Clang’ was a sword cutting through
Athena’s attempt to focus and search.
Time, she thought
harshly, as she stepped forward to swim amongst the currents of people. You’re a joke to the thousands of years I’ve
lived.
She
moved five paces and stopped. Someone tutted as they quickly diverted around
her.
Time? she repeated
philosophically, nearly laughing out loud. You’re
such a joke that I don’t even know
what year it is? She strained her memory. 1948? Yes. That was the last I remember. What year is it now? Two
more? Or twenty?
She
couldn’t guess, but remembered what had occurred in 1948 and the decades
before. The Great Wars were a frantic time for her and her remaining kin. So
many potentials had come to light, so many courageous and selfless fighters,
healers, workers, and objectors all over the world. But even then, not one had
gone the distance. They were too busy fighting for their freedom. Athena didn’t
begrudge them this, she understood more than most, but it would have been nice
for one to see the bigger picture. After the second Great War, she endeavoured
to try something different, and found it in 1948.
What a waste
that was, she
thought. He could have brought me belief,
worship and power with his writing, but there was something disturbing and
destructive about that path. They always get caught up in their own propaganda;
so few remember Delphi’s wisdom.
Not
long after, the other two remaining of the Greek pantheon had blinked out of
existence. The loss had overcome Athena’s wisdom and fighting spirit, and she
had wandered aimlessly. The only direction she took was east, hoping to stumble
across another potential. She hadn’t. Eventually, the wide ocean raged before
her, and for the first time in nearly four hundred years she would travel
across it. The new world had held nothing of worth.
Great Britannia.
She
had laughed when she saw the ships destination. I guess I should thank them.
I’m the root of that ancient personification. A lot of my diminishing power
I’ve maintained thanks t...
The
reflection and memories vanished in a snap. The pull in the present was fading
slightly. She growled and clenched her jaw- dwelling on the past had become a
bad habit. Whatever year it was, she’d have to ask, or find a newspaper.
Moving
forward, she squeezed herself through a couple of people. The pull strengthened
and she moved surprisingly fast for a crone.
Where are you? Where
are you?
She
passed several platforms, one empty, and two with trains waiting to start their
journey. The pull drew her to the one furthest away. It was leaving in five
minutes.
By
the time she got to the front, four minutes remained. She walked briskly
alongside the carriages, scanning the people getting on. About half way down
she stopped.
Where in Hades
realm are you?
Anger
boiled inside her for the slip. She shouldn’t have even thought his name. He
had betrayed them. He had refused to help. If she died, it would be his
gloating face she saw first.
Three
minutes until departure.
A
few stragglers boarded. Athena twisted her head to look back down the platform.
Should I let
this one go? No. I have to try.
With
a bony hand she pulled the grey cloak around her and stepped up into the train.
She made sure the hood wasn’t going to fall and looked up the gangway at the
people taking their seats. The pull tethered her towards them and she shuffled
forward. Her focus made the whistle and jerking motion of movement a distant
echo. Halfway down the carriage she realised she didn’t even know where the
train was going.
It doesn’t
matter,
she thought. I’ll just get a ticket to
the last stop.
After
a couple more steps, the pull told her she was close. However, each of the last
four seats, two on her left and two on her right, were occupied. She nearly
cursed again, but bit her lip, and closed her eyes to focus.
The one furthest
on the right by the window.
Opening
her eyes, she saw a woman in her late twenty’s. She was gazing out the window,
her face close to it, and a faint smile softened stern and reserved features.
She wore horn rimmed glasses, a brown suit over a white shirt, and had long
thick dark brown hair in a ponytail.
Now what?
Athena
looked from left to right. There were two empty seats by her and she slipped
into the one next to the window. All the seats faced the same way, so she took
a quick backward glance down the gap. The woman was still looking out the
window. It was time to wait. She shut her eyes, sensed the pull, and if it
faded, she knew the woman would be on the move.
There’s no point
talking to her on the train, she mused. This conversation needs privacy.
It
wasn’t long before Athena had to conjure up some coins for her ticket to the
last stop, Canterbury, and was left in peace. Every stop she checked if the
woman was getting off, but she didn’t. The train finally pulled into the last
stop. Tugging the hood fully forward, Athena waited for people to leave. Once
it was clear, she let the pull guide her. Alighting, she saw a sign, ‘Welcome
to Canterbury,’ and paid no attention to the overcast grey clouds above. She
spotted the potential heroine and saw that she was carrying a black briefcase.
Knowing what was to come, she gave a nervous half smile and a long inhale of
breath through her nose.
This is it, she thought. This could be the end, or the beginning.
She
let the breath out sharply and began to walk with her back hunched.
*
After
half an hour they came to a quiet park, the woman picked up an acorn, pocketed
it and took a seat on a bench. Athena stopped, keeping her distance, and moved
to a point diagonally behind her, standing in the shadow of an oak tree. She watched as the woman took a piece
of paper out of her briefcase. A few minutes went by as she read.
Now is as good a
time as any,
Athena thought.
Emerging
from the shadows, she walked in a straight line to the pavement that weaved
through the park. Reaching it, she turned left to walk the twenty or so metres
to the bench. The woman glanced up, squinting to see Athena’s face, but only
her chin showed. The woman shook her head slightly and looked back at the piece
of paper.
It’s a map, Athena realised
as she got close. I guess that will be a
conversation starter before the truth, and then her desire for proof. They
always want extravagant proof, she added with an internal snarl. Such a waste of power.
She
sat on the bench next to the woman, bracing herself for the shock and
repulsion. With both hands she slowly lowered the hood. The woman naturally
glanced to see who was sitting beside her. She winced momentarily, but hid it
well with a smile. It was one of the more kind and accepting reactions. Athena
was grateful.
“Hello,”
she said, before the woman could avert her gaze back to the map.
Athena’s
voice croaked and wavered to give aged authenticity. Once the woman had some
understanding of the truth, Athena would drop it. The power of her musical and
commanding voice hadn’t vanished quite yet, but the tones and vibrations were a
shock to those unprepared.
“Are
you lost?” Athena added.
“Lost?”
the woman asked in an eloquent English accent.
She
then laughed and tapped the map.
“Oh,
no. I’m not lost. I like to know the distances I’ve travelled. I was on the
train from London and wanted to review how long it took and the distances
between each stop. It’s a silly hobby.”
There
was a pause as both expected the other to speak.
“Well?”
Athena said finally.
The
woman gave a confused look over her glasses.
“Well,
what?”
“How
far? I was on that train too?”
Athena
saw a twitch at the corner of the woman’s mouth. The statement had made her
feel uneasy, but thankfully politeness made it impossible to refuse a fragile
old woman. The woman leaned towards Athena and used a pen from her suit jacket
pocket to point on the map.
“From
Southwark it’s two miles to St Thomas, five miles to Deptford, six miles to
Greenwich, thirty miles to Rochester, forty miles to Sittingbourne, fifty-five
miles to Boughton under Blean, fifty-eight miles to Harbledown and sixty miles
to Canterbury.”
“The
detail you give is interesting,” Athena said, as the woman folded the map.
“It’s
not to most people,” the woman replied, as she put the map in her brief case.
“It’s partly a consequence of my other hobby, cycling. Knowing the distances
lets me plan my routes and how long it would take. I hope to cycle a similar
route one day. Anyway... I’m sorry...” she said, shaking her head a little,
“…going on about my silly interests. I better be off. I hope you have a nice day.”
The
woman stood and waited for Athena to reply with a polite farewell.
Athena
thought frantically and chose her strategy.
“I
don’t mean to be a burden,” she said in a pitiful voice, “but could you spare
some time for a lonely old lady? I do enjoy a good natter, and you seem like a
nice young lady. It would help pass some of my day. It can be so lonely.”
The
woman looked at her watch, the reserved face giving nothing away.
“Okay,”
she said. “I don’t have to go yet. My appointment isn’t for a while.”
She
sat back on the bench.
“That’s
very kind of you,” Athena replied, a crooked, but meaningful smile fluttering
on her face. “Are you here to see that route before you cycle it then? Or for
something else? Will you be staying long?”
“Only
for one night. It’s partly to see the route, partly to do some family history
research, but also, and I know it sounds strange, but I’ve always felt a desire
to see Canterbury. I don’t really know why. Sounds silly doesn’t it?”
“Not
as silly as you might think,” Athena said, leaning towards her a little, but
trying to hide the curiosity.
Have the fates
guided her here?
Should I reveal the truth now? Yes. Now
is as good a time as any.
“I’m
sorry,” Athena said. “Here’s me asking about you and I don’t even know your
name.”
“My
name is, Harriet,” the woman said with a polite nod.
“It’s
nice to meet you, Harriet. My name is, Athena.”
Harriet
smiled with her eyes as well as her mouth this time.
“Your
name is, Athena? Like the Greek goddess of...err...Justice...Wisdom...the
Arts...and Warfare? Is that right?”
“The
very same,” Athena said.
A
sudden unrestrained laugh escaped her dry crusty lips; the sound was as sweat
as honey apples.
Harriet’s
reserve dropped. Her mouth gapped, bewildered by the magical tones.
“The
very same, indeed,” Athena said as she sniggered, unable to hide her naturally
powerful and beautiful voice anymore.
Finally,
she composed herself and with emphasis said,
“I
am the very same Goddess of Justice, Wisdom, the Arts, and Warfare- to name but
a few. You know your Greek history well to recall even those.”
There
was a long pause as Athena waited for the mocking looks and laughter.
“You are, Athena,” Harriet finally stammered as she pushed her glasses
up her nose.
It
was Athena’s turn to be bewildered. There was no scepticism or disbelief at
all. If anything it was awe and reverence. No longer needing the fake voice,
she replied musically,
“Yes,
I am Athena. And you believe without doubt. Why is that?”
“Your
song of laughter. Your voice. It’s unearthly. But I feel like I’ve heard it
before. It’s like my memories are telling me that you were a Goddess of
Olympus. It’s like something inside me knows who you are.”
This is curious,
Athena
thought. No potential has recognised me
from just my voice. What makes her think she remembers me? I could use some
power to find out? No. I need ever last bit.
A
radiant sunbeam of hope burned inside Athena- Harriet was different.
Gaining
some confidence after the initial reverence Harriet spoke again.
“Why
have you spoken to me... Your Highness? Your Grace? Holy Goddess?
Athena
smiled compassionately. A long time ago she would have insisted on any of those
titles, but the losses and failures had humbled her.
“Athena
is fine. I will explain all, Harriet. If you are willing to listen to my
story?’
“Of
course. I will listen, Athena.”
“Thank
you,” Athena replied. “I’ve spent many generations wandering the earth,
watching, continually watching and searching.”
The
inner exhaustion was clear as her shoulders dropped.
“One
goal and task has been my obsession. Nothing else has mattered, Harriet; for
nothing else has been needed so much. I have to restore myself and you mortals
to glory.
“I
am Athena. I was an immortal Goddess. Now look at me. I am a shell that will
die through loss of faith, or using up my remaining power. I only live because
of you mortals. Many of you remember us gods and goddesses because of the great
things we and our champions did. But the worship you gave us has long since
faded. Only a handful of you still believe, but thankfully most still remember.
You teach about us in your schools; myth and legend you call us, but we are
real.”
She
paused for a moment. With narrowing eyes she tried to read Harriet. Harriet
looked back and smiled with no hint of questions or doubts. No other had
listened so intently. Athena plunged back into her explanations.
“And
now I’m the last. We got arrogant and complacent. We have paid for our mistakes and now all my kin are trapped in
the underworld.
“Hades
you treacherous harpy,” she cursed under
her breath, unable to stop herself.
She
took a moment to compose herself before continuing.
“Hades
and I are the only ones with any power left from our pantheon. And he only
keeps his power by feeding off the souls of those who died in our time. They
believe and worship because they have no choice.
“It
all went wrong when enough mortals began to worship the Roman gods. Those
perverse reflections then came to Olympus and overthrew us, but we managed to
flee. We still had a deep well of power, but when it was used, it would not
replenish. At the beginning, we wasted it trying to force belief, hoping our
power would be restored when people worshipped us again. We failed, and worship
stayed with the Roman gods.
“They
fell too, eventually, and were replaced by other gods. In their fallen state,
the Roman gods tried what we did, but having little restraint they burned out.
In a strange mirror of our plight they are trapped in their own underworld with
all those souls who worshiped them; Pluto ruling over them all.
“We
survived because we were only slightly wiser. Forcing belief wasn’t working so
we stopped. Seven of us had already died and were trapped by Hades. We asked
for his help to restore the mortal’s faith and worship, but he refused. One day
all faith and fictitious belief in us will disappear, and then he, and those
trapped in his domain, will vanish. But he doesn’t care.
“I
am left to find help. If I can restore worship, I can restore my kin. It was
Hestia, Demeter, Hermes and I, who finally realised hope lay not in big
miracles, but heroism from you mortals to inspire one another. We saw that if
we could shape heroes and heroines, and guide them to fame and glory, they
would tell people and restore worship. Our power would return and we would be
the strongest gods. We vowed to never fail you again.”
Athena
paused once more to see if Harriet would interject or question, but she still
sat composed and content. With a shrug, Athena continued.
“It
was harder than we thought. The world had change. Heroism was seen as a solely
mortal act, and it was forgotten that even greater acts could be achieved with
the aid of a god. Such things were only respected in stories. Such disbelief
meant we had to be careful. Our power was now exhaustible, blowing away like grains
of sand held to the wind with each use. And as you can see, the depletion made
us repulsive, which has made talking to mortals difficult.
“The
only consolation was the pull- subtle and unique senses had been awakened in
us. We could feel a connection to potential heroes and heroines. And thus we
put our power into helping those we were drawn to. However, after a few
failures, the four of us rethought the plan. We decided to only heed the
strongest pulls and thought up tests to prove the strengths of those we found.
Such tests meant we could limit the use of our power. This we have done ever
since, but no matter how close we came, the potentials always failed.”
Athena
sighed heavily, a flash of those failures passing through her mind.
“In
the last half a millennia we discovered what made people potentials. We tested
their blood with our power. It showed each potential was a descendent of the
true heroes and heroines from Greece.
“When
we lost Hestia, we, the three remaining immortals decided to split up and
search for the strongest decedent of three of the greatest: One from Atalanta,
one from Achilles, and one from Odysseus. None bore fruit, and my remaining
godly kin lost their power in the attempt.
“I
had gone after Odysseus’ line, but that was a corrupt seed. And now I’ve found
you by chance, or perhaps by the fates?”
Athena
turned to hold Harriet’s gaze.
“I
know it’s a lot to take in. Do have any questions or doubts?”
“I
don’t think so,” she said plainly.
Athena’s
aged face tightened. Everyone always had questions, usually a hundred.
Harriet
noticed her confusion and decided to ask an obvious question.
“What happens now?”
“You’re
an interesting one,” Athena muttered. “Can I test your ancestral line? I have
to hold your hand for a moment.”
Harriet
held out her hand and Athena wrapped her gnarled fingers around it.
Athena’s
brow creased and her lips drooped into a frown. She let go.
“So...?”
Harriet asked.
“Nothing,”
Athena replied. “I got nothing back. This is a first,” she said and looked at
the ground. “I don’t understand. There’s great potential, but no indication of
who it’s from. I guess it doesn’t matter.” She shrugged, looking back at
Harriet. “What matters is I need your help. Will you help save me and my kin?”
“I
will,” she said solemnly, without hesitation.
“Thank
you, Harriet,” Athena replied. “Do you promise to help me get my powers back,
so I can help all mortals? I need you Harriet. You’re the last hope of the lost
gods. Do you promise to help?”
The
power, music and elegance in her voice was saturated with desperation and
pleading.
“I
will do my best,” Harriet replied, nodding her head firmly.
Athena
relaxed her tense body a little, and despite chapped lips and rotting teeth,
her smile was soft.
“Well,
the next step is to find how you will gain fame and glory. Can you think of
anything that sets you apart from others?”
She
looked into Harriet’s eyes, hoping to see some burning passion for a great
destiny. It didn’t come. Harriet looked away and down to the cement pavement.
“I’m
just a normal woman. There’s nothing special about me.”
“There
is Harriet,” Athena encouraged. “I can sense it. We have to find what we can
harness and show the world. We will have to test you.”
“Test
me?” Harriet said, lifting her head.
“To
limit how much power I use, remember?”
“Oh,
yes,” she replied. “I remember. It’s a lot to take in.”
“It
is. But you’ve accepted this better than anyone. This is a good sign. These
tests will find something we can work with. Then I can use the little remaining
power to help you rise to glory.”
“Am
I going to be in danger?”
“There
are risks in some tests, but I’ll do everything I can to stop you from being
hurt.”
Harriet
adjusted her horn rimmed glasses and brushed her thick brown hair back with the
same hand.
“Thank
you, Athena,” she said. “What if I fail and you use up all your power?”
“You
won’t fail. But if I do lose my power and die, remember us. Maybe in time you
will still bring us glory and worship. Then we can break free of the
underworld.”
“I
won’t forget you,” Harriet said, nodding with a familiar resolve.
“I
already see your conviction and it warms my heart. Thank you. Now I have to
decide what test might be right for you.
Harriet
stayed quiet.
“What
test to give you?” Athena thought out loud. “There’s the many challenges from
the golden age, like Peruses and the Gorgon, Medusa, or Odysseus and the
Cyclops, or The hunt and run of Atalanta, or Jason’s quest for the golden
fleece, or facing the fierce strength and courage of the Amazonians, or Theseus
and the Minotaur; to name but a few.”
Harriet’s
reserve faltered, her dark eyebrows rose and mouth gapped.
Athena
laughed sweetly.
“It’s
okay. Many surprise themselves when forced into such a situation. I’ll try to
avoid the more deadly ones though. I cannot risk your life, but I’ve a few
temperate tests that will show your strength and heroic attributes. Do you
trust me?”
“I
trust you,” she replied as her face relaxed a little.
“Thank
you,” Athena said. “I have to use some of the last tethers of my power to get
us to where we need to go, but it should be okay. It’s less than it cost to try
and help a potential over years without knowing their strengths. Are you
ready?”
Harriet
nodded.
Athena
gently wrapped her gnarled and liver spotted fingers around Harriet’s arm. In a
flash of light they were transported away from the bench and quaint English
park.
*
Athena
couldn’t understand it. Three tests and very little discovered. Atlas’ had been
a disaster; Harriet hadn’t held the sky for even a fraction of a second. She
clearly had no prowess in physical strength.
The second test had been slightly more productive. It took great
determination to carry and push Sisyphus’ boulder up the hill over and over,
even though it always slipped and tumbled away when near the top. Harriet
hadn’t given up at all. She rested when needed and simply kept trying until
told to stop. Such persistence was remarkable, but it needed to be linked to another
trait. Athena had hoped it could be joined with leadership. She had called upon
Aerion for this. His wild Mustangs, Mares and Colts were as chaotic as
Poseidon’s vast domain, but they were tameable with specific boldness, guidance
and charisma. Yet, it wasn’t to be. Harriet had shown compassion and
determination again, but there was no flare or command to gain their respect.
She wouldn’t do well in the politics or business of this age.
Maybe she needs
something extreme,
Athena thought. Higher stakes will
hopefully reveal something I can work with. Let’s see if we can force out some
deep insight and wisdom. Such attributes, combined with persistence could bring
great renown in the world, much like the philosophers of the classical age. I
hope this isn’t too dangerous. I just don’t know what to do. I’m running out of
ideas and power.
“We’ll
find your heroic qualities, Harriet,” Athena said. “One more test should be
enough. Take my hand.”
*
The
flash of light faded and Harriet felt Athena’s hand go limp for a second, but
then tighten. It was clear she was getting weaker. Harriet gripped for a second
to show she cared, but was too overwhelmed with the new surroundings to voice
her concern.
Harriet
took a step back. Fierce, almost black waves crashed around the flat ebony
coloured foundation of smoothed rock they stood on. The rock was like a jetty
on the dark water and Harriet turned to look beyond Athena. The rock stretched
out behind them for many miles before it reached the shore and a forest beyond.
Harriet’s
scan came full circle. As it did, she took another step back, her eyes going
wide. Loaming out of the turbulent sea, not far from the edge of where they stood,
towered two gigantic rocks.
“Who’s
that?” she asked as she beheld the gigantic figure chained between the rocks.
“That’s
Prometheus.”
Harriet
looked at the titan, who was even bigger than Atlas. He had long fiery red hair
but no beard. The chains that held him suspended between the two rocks were
thick and the ends were drilled deep into the rock. There were six chains: one
coming from each of his four strong limbs, and two from a collar around his
neck. It was not the chains that caught Harriet’s attention though; it was the
menacing look in Prometheus’ eyes and the rage in his sneer.
“Are
we safe?”
“We
should be,” Athena replied.
“Prometheus
stole fire from you gods, didn’t he?” Harriet inquired after a moment’s
reflection.
“That’s
correct.”
“It
was to help us. Should I try talking to him? What is this testing?” Harriet asked.
“That’s
up to you to figure out,” Athena replied apologetically.
“It’s
okay, this is my test. I guess I’ll try talking to him.”
“Before
you do, I have to give you this, and then you’re on your own.”
She
held out her hand and a large key materialised.
“Am
I supposed to free him?”
“That’s
up to you,” Harriet quickly said at the same time as Athena.
They
both smiled a little and Harriet took the key from Athena’s fragile hand.
With
the key clasped tight, Harriet gave Athena a last look and turned to Prometheus.
“Prometheus!”
Harriet shouted, while bowing her head slightly. “My name is Harriet. I’m here
to restore the gods of Olympus to their throne.”
Harriet
noticed Prometheus’ arms and jaw tense at the mention of the gods.
“I’m
doing it because I sense in my heart it is right and because Athena has shown
me the goodness she possesses. She wants to save us. You wanted to save us
once. You gave us fire to save us from ignorance, but you’ve suffered for it. I
see great hatred in you now. Do you hate us Prometheus?”
There
was no reply, only the same heavy glare that bore down on them.
“We
mortals need rescuing,” Harriet continued. “We have barely survived the last
one hundred years. A fresh restoration of the old gods, with new humility and
learning is what we need to bring about peace. But we need help. Would you help
us Prometheus? I have the power to free you.” She held up the key. “You could
be a friend to humanity once more.”
Prometheus’
eyes were locked on the key and some of the fire in them faded.
“What’s
the point?” he said in a deep growling voice. “If I help restore the twelve
gods, Zeus will put me back in chains. I would free the others, but not him. I
would see him erased from the memory of all beings and fade out of existence
forever!”
As
he said the last words, his anger couldn’t be contained. In a fit, he tried to
break his chains. They rattled and clanked violently. “I just want to be free!”
he shouted.
Suddenly,
the rage stopped and Prometheus hung limply, his head bowed.
“I
don’t want to suffer anymore,” he said pitifully, his head still bowed as the
waves below crashed against the rocks.
“You
don’t have to!” Harriet said. “This can all go away if you promise to help me.
I trust Athena and she trusts me. She will have the most power when they are
restored. When I gain fame and glory I’ll make sure she is queen of Olympus. I
cannot guarantee Zeus will fade forever, but he’ll not have sway over her.
She’ll make sure you’re free.”
Harriet
turned to Athena, hoping her presumption was okay. She was stone faced, but then
nodded slowly.
“Will
you help us like you once did?”
“I
will,” Prometheus said firmly. “I will do this for you and your kin. You are
fascinating beings who never seem to give up. For this reason I shall help you.”
“Thank
you,” Harriet said with a sigh of relief. “I’ll free you now,” Harriet continued,
taking a glance back at Athena.
Athena
continued to look at Harriet stone faced, but she nodded and waved a hand
towards the closest rock.
“How
do I get there?” Harriet asked, knowing the answer, but wishing it wouldn’t
hurt Athena.
“Close
your eyes,” Athena replied.
Harriet
did, and suddenly the wind of a higher altitude danced around her and she opened
her eyes. She stood on a platform of rock and looked up, suddenly startled by
how close she was to Prometheus and a massive chain that bound Prometheus’ left
arm.
Harriet
reached for a lock she could see and put the key in. She turned it and looked
over to Prometheus. With horror, she saw a lustful glee begin to burn brighter
and brighter in Prometheus’ eyes, and a snarl of rage bellowed forth. In a
split second Harriet tried to lock the chain, but Prometheus wrenched the chain
with all his might. It came free. He laughed with maddened excitement and
quickly grabbed the chain around his neck. With ferocious strength he broke it.
Harriet suddenly heard an echoing
screech. She turned towards the sound and saw a giant eagle swoop down from the
heavens and clutch her in its talons. The eagle dove rapidly towards Athena
while Harriet helplessly watched Prometheus break all his chains. Now free,
Prometheus stood fully erect, basking in the new mobility, the chains drooping
off him like thick willow branches. He came out of his reverie and fixed his
eyes on the eagle. The fury was cataclysmic and he swung the broken remnants of
the two chains around his wrists once, testing the feel of them as weapons.
As
he did, the eagle dropped Harriet close to Athena. Harriet rolled a couple of
times and stood up shaking. She turned to the frail looking Athena and followed
her petrified gaze. The eagle had turned and charged at Prometheus. It dodged the
swinging chains and flapped hard, gaining altitude; suddenly it tucked its
wings, and like lightning, bolted towards the eyes of Prometheus.
“Not
today!” Prometheus shouted and growled.
The
rage filled titan threw up his arms, but the eagle was too fast. Talons gouged
into flesh and his left eye. Prometheus howled and took half a step back.
Harriet
knew they had to get away, but how? She ignored the fight and looked to Athena.
“What
do we do?”
Before
she could answer, there was a blood chilling screech. Mortal and immortal
looked up. Prometheus had the eagle in his hands and was twisting and bending
with all his strength. Suddenly, there was a cracking and the screeching was
cut deathly short. The sight of the eagle splitting in two made Harriet’s stomach
lurch. All Prometheus did was laugh maniacally and discard the two parts like a
broken toy.
“What
do we do?” Harriet shouted in panic.
The
shouting brought Prometheus’ cruel gaze on them.
“Do
you believe in me,” Athena called to Harriet.
“I
do!”
The
moment the words left Harriet’s lips, Athena took a step toward the titian and
there was a deafening crack like thunder. Harriet watched open mouthed as the
two massive rocks either side of Prometheus came together like attracted
magnets. Prometheus didn’t even have time to roar out in rage as he was
obliterated. Smashed rock, bone, flesh, and blood went everywhere and rained
down into the sea.
Harriet
cast her eyes away and realised Athena had fallen hard to the ground and lay limp.
Harriet ran to her. Athena was unconscious, but alive. Not knowing what to do Harriet
put her suit jacket around Athena, picked her up and carried her towards the
forest.
*
Pain.
Athena’s head scorched with pain and her body ached. It was agony. She opened
her eyes slowly. In contrast to the loud internal pain, she saw a peaceful
forest glade. She looked about and beheld the disheartened Harriet. If only she
had shown insight that Prometheus was tricking her. It would have been
something to work with. But there was nothing. Harriet looked up at her with pained
eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and sighed with relief.
“I
didn’t know if you would wake,” she said. “I’ve failed you. What happens now?”
“I
don’t understand why we can’t find your true heroic talent, but I’ve had an
idea,” Athena said, and cleared her dry throat with a rasping cough. “There’s
still hope. There has to be.”
She
shuffled towards Harriet, took hold of her arm, and with a flash of light they
vanished.
*
As
her eyes focused, Harriet beheld a great churning river. The slightly congealed
liquid’s deep red and purple hue made her mind whirl. She took a quick startled
breath. The metallic taste and smell made her stomach churn and revealed the
truth. Blood. Before she could take in anymore of the scene, she felt Athena’s
grip loosen and slide down her arm. Glancing down, she reacted instinctively to
cradle Athena as she went limp. Athena’s eyes were glazed and half closed, and
she breathed with great effort.
“Where
are we? Why did you use so much power?”
Athena’s
eyes opened and focused.
“I’m
taking a true and honest risk for the first time in a long time.”
All
the power and beauty had vanished from her voice; it was now a genuine pitiful
rasp.
“We
have to know the truth. A Prophet might be able to see your bloodline and
potential. Usually an animal sacrifice is needed, but a drop of my blood will
suffice.”
She
staggered to her feet, and Harriet helped her. With determined eyes, Athena
looked at her hand and a tiny cut appeared on her finger. She let a drop bead
and it fell into the river. The immortal crimson blood hissed and bubbled on
contact. Harriet blinked and suddenly saw the spirits of the long dead ancient
Greek all around her; thousands upon thousands all staring at them. As she
watched amazed, Athena called out as best she could.
“Tiresias!”
A
spirit with his spectral eyes sown shut came forward from the legions and bowed.
“What
would you have of me, Noble Goddess?”
“Who
is this woman?” Athena asked and pointed at Harriet. “Whose bloodline does she
descend from? What does her future hold?”
Despite
his stitched eyes, Tiresias seemed
to stare hard into Harriet’s face.
“Curious,”
he said, smiling widely.
Athena
waited with desperate expectance, her frame shaking slightly. Harriet held her
arm to steady her.
“This,
Athena, is the line of Atreus. She carries great power, but it’s blended with
the curse of that house. She’s a walking paradox, as were Agamemnon and
Menelaus, and all Atreus’ seed. The curse has kept them hidden until now, but the
fates and furies must have decided to upturn their ruling. They have given you
one last chance in your darkest hour, Athena.”
“What
of her future?” Athena asked. “We don’t have much time,” she added, peering
around with tight fearful eyes.
“I
understand,” Tiresias replied.
Harriet
didn’t, but listened, trying to grasp what was being discussed.
“Her
future…” Tiresias said, pursing his lips as he was about to speak, but shut
them and shook his head.
“Curious,”
he uttered softly, before speaking loud and firm. “You must take her to
Pandora’s jar.”
“Are you sure?” Athena said,
suddenly looking terrified. “What did you see?
“There’s
no time. You must hurry. Hades knows you’re here.”
Athena
shook violently.
“Where’s
the Jar?”
“His
throne room. The third eye of the skull. Above his throne of bones.”
The
floor began to crack, rumble and threatened to swallow them. Without another
word, she took Harriet’s hand and there was a flash of light.
*
With
no warning, an empty chill stabbed and clawed at Harriet’s chest, making it
hard to breath. The new room was a cavernous maw of death. Everything but the
sharp obsidian walls and ceiling was made of bones. Chairs, tables, twisted
mosaic pictures, candles, and even cutlery; all bone. A few spirits floated
around, their spectral flesh littered with rips and tears as if something had
clawed it away. They turned agape, before floating away in fear. Harriet would have
taken in more, but Athena collapsed facedown. Harriet tried to hold her, but
failed. With speed and gentleness she bent down and turned Athena over. The
grey hood covered her face. Harriet pulled it back slowly, terrified. Athena’s
eyes looked huge in the frame of tight skin and gaunt features, but there was
still a speck of life in them.
“It
hurts. I’m so empty,” Athena whispered.
Her
hand rose slowly and a skeletal finger pointed over Harriet’s shoulder.
“The
jar…Open it and take…take what’s inside.”
Harriet
turned her head, still holding Athena in her arms. A giant throne of twisted bones
loomed against the far wall. Above it was a demonically elongated skull with
horns and strange jars as teeth. Harriet wanted to run from the monstrous
visage, but found courage to survey it. The empty hole of its nose had a glowing
golden apple resting on a plinth and there were three eyes. Two were like a
normal skull’s, one with a bone facsimile of a lightning bolt and one with a trident.
The third eye was a vertical cut in the middle of the forehead, a pottery Jar
in it, which rested on another plinth.
She
turned back to face Athena.
“How
do I get it?”
“Must
I...do everything?” Athena winced with flicker of a smile. “Hold out...your
arms.”
Harriet
lay her down gently and did as commanded.
The
Jar vanished from the skull and appeared in her hands.
“Unstop
it...and...look inside,” Athena said fearfully, her voice so faint and fragile
Harriet could barely hear it.
Harriet
hugged the jar with one arm and with her free hand pulled the stop. With echoes
of Pandora’s story ringing in her thoughts, she locked her eyes tight.
Nothing
happened. Sheepishly, she opened her eyes a crack and saw something that looked
like sand. As she took a deep calming breath, a wave of Cinnamon hit her. She
opened her eyes fully and looked to Athena for answers. She lay still, her face
limp to the side. Harriet panicked, but noticed the slow, up and down of
Athena’s chest. She put the jar down and took Athena’s hand. Her face looked so
wasted and pitiful. She opened her eyes at Harriet’s touch.
“The
jar...?” Athena whispered.
“There’s
a strange mixture at the bottom. Like herbs or spice. Nothing else.”
“Eat…Quick.”
Harriet
did. She put her arm in the jar, scooped a handful, and unceremoniously shoved
it into her mouth. Cinnamon clouded her senses. Her eyes, nose and throat started
to burn. She tried to block out the feeling, but it became stronger and
stronger. Chewing quickly, she started to feel strange. As she swallowed hard, her
world exploded and she was lost. Her mind fell into time, seeing it as it is,
was, and will be. She saw the now. A nexus with trillions of knotted threads
spiralled and nebulared her vision,
some strong, some weak, and one golden thread shone above all. Along that
thread she saw all her ancestors, herself and her decedents. One knot of her
own life stood out and she muttered,
“Son
of the Muse. Dunes of Florence, Oregon. Send me. Now.”
Athena
heard, but didn’t fully understand. However, she stretched out a shaking hand
and put it on Harriet’s.
“Save
us Harriet…Go to the Dunes of Florence…Oregon.”
Athena’s
hand dropped and eyes closed, a tear running slowly down her face. With her
last breath she whispered,
“Pandora...
Always hope...”
Harriet
vanished in a flash of light.
A
moment later, Athena was motionless. Her body cracked and crumbled to dust and
the grey gritty cloak was left in a heap. Dark shadows curled around it and
another jar tooth appeared in the skull above the throne of bones. A rumbling
laugh of pure spiteful glee echoed through the cavern and continued for some
time.
*
Harriet
fell to the ground like a dropped marionette. The transcendent experience had
taken her consciousness and she lay still, her breath so shallow she appeared
dead. Her eyes would have widened at the waves of dunes all around her, but her
mind registered none of it. The wind and sand prickled at her skin, and glistening
sweat began to burst forth as the heat of the sun bore down, but still it did
not register. Vast visions were all Harriet absorbed as the nexus of the now
undulated inside her and a phrase formed the multidimensional foundation,
‘Genetic
memory is the golden path, for it will save the lost gods.’
Yet,
all were lost if she wasn’t found soon.
The End