by M. M. Kin
“He kidnapped her!”
“Yes, yes. But be reasonable, you refused to admit any man to your sacred valley. Hades did not have the choice to court her properly. Calm down, and Hades will speak to you.”
“Calm? Don't you dare tell me to calm down. You and Poseidon and Hades, you gods, you are all the same! Have women come to mean so little to you? You would not let me turn away your advances so you had to resort to trickery, you are ever unfaithful to your loyal wife, you let your brother take your daughter and leave me in the dark about this! What the hell is wrong with you? What have I done to deserve being treated as such?”
“It had nothing to do with you. I did not seduce you to hurt you. And I would not have given my blessing if I did not think that Hades would mistreat Kora,” Zeus replied, attempting to use his charm, only achieving the opposite of what he’d intended.
“WHY!” she screamed, and he found his hair yanked in such a way that had he been mortal, his neck would have easily snapped, or even his head ripped from his neck.
“Please. Let me go. It is... hard to talk. When you are ...AH! Jerking around my head like that.”
In response, she gave him several especially vicious jerks, ignoring his bellows. Finally, she stopped, and he panted several times before he spoke.
“I swear, this was done in no malice towards you. Demeter, I know you meant best for your daughter. But she is a grown woman now, and Hades is hardly a bad influence on her. She is safe, and is that not what you wanted in the first place?”
“I want her back. Or I will go to Hera and let her know what you have done. The other gods as well. I doubt your other daughters will look upon this favorably.”
“What can Hera do?” the King of the Gods shrugged, “She has no more power than I do against Hades. And what of my daughters? So I gave my blessing for Kora. What of it? Is it not a father's duty to ensure that his daughters are cared for? I certainly am not the first, nor will I be the last man to give away his daughter!”
Demeter glared at him with a sneer. She knew that her brother thought she was reacting hysterically. He had grown haughty, practically celebrating his own follies, letting his desires dictate his actions. He thrived off the worship of mortals and demanded their admiration, and his sons and brothers were no different. The mighty gods of Olympus had become lost in their own ennui, pursuing pleasure and entertainment in its myriad forms. They would just laugh at her for her righteous indignation over the situation.
As she glared at Zeus, she realized the perfect way to get her revenge on him for what he had done all these years ago and the fact that with his thoughtless decision, had added egregious insult to injury. Her face went through a startling change, changing from openly livid to cold and calculating, promising something even more terrifying than her immediate wrath.
“You will rue the day that you started this entire mess. You will no longer be a beneficiary of my Gifts. Let us see how high and mighty you are, then.”
With that, she was gone, leaving her brother amidst the destruction caused by her ire.
o0o
As King of the Gods, it was a given that Zeus was worshiped throughout Hellas. Destroyer of Kronos, Lord of the Skies, the God of Thunder, the Patriarch and the Wise Leader. And he almost lived for worship. His family knew that all too well, and Demeter intended to use that to her fullest advantage.
Soon enough the mortals would see who held the real power. Demeter was the Giver of Life, and if the Zeus and his brethren did not appreciate it or the vital role that women played in their lives or that they deserved more respect than what was usually given them, well then, why should she share her Gift with them?
Olympia was one of the cities that had Zeus as its main patron deity. Worship of Zeus here was far more prevalent than the worship of any other god, who was lucky to get mention in Olympia outside of sharing the myths. It was Zeus's favorite city, but not even the might of the King of the Gods could save his beloved city from Demeter's cold rage.
o0o
The city was surrounded by farms, ponds, and streams fed by mountain springs, providing ample food and supplies for the needs of the city. Every year, the festivities and ceremonies went in full swing. The gods were celebrated and prayed to, entreated to use their Gifts to benefit mankind, but the name that was uttered or called out most was Zeus.
After all, he was King of the Gods, Lord of Heaven, Patriarch of the Olympians. More than half of the gods of Olympus were descended from him. Eight of his own children made up the Council of the Twelve. He had a beautiful and wise Queen, and his conquests were legendary. He was strong and handsome. Men hoped to be like him in energy and sexual prowess. The priests of the grand temples of Zeus were chosen for their virility and robustness, and the temple maidens were handpicked by these very same priests for their loveliness. In the past, a maiden or two would find themselves visited by Zeus.
Skouros had been the head priest of Olympia for nearly two decades. He had been chosen for the position by his predecessor when he was nearly thirty, in the prime of his life. Even now as he neared fifty, he was still a striking figure, fit and broad-shouldered with a full head of dark brown hair and beard that only recently had started to gray, giving him a dignified appearance.
Like the god he served, he had a large brood, though nowhere near as large as the amount of offspring that Zeus sired. He had been blessed with seven sons and three daughters, and nine of them were alive and healthy. The sole exception had been a toddler son who had wandered too close to a pool and fell in, drowning before his absence was noted. Three of his sons served here in the temple as priests or groundskeepers, and his eldest daughter had been picked as one of the temple maidens to assist in the lavish ceremonies. He had seen poverty before in his life and knew that he was enormously blessed. Zeus was very generous to those who served him well.
He enjoyed walks at night-time because it helped him to think, and gave him a much-needed time of solitude after juggling his duties as priest, father, and husband. Though he would never say it out loud – he was careful to not say anything that might offend his patron deity – when he was in the temple on the hill, he felt like Zeus himself looking down Mount Olympus and even Hellas itself.
Under the light of the waxing moon, he could see the houses below, clean and sun-bleached, clustered closely together around the hills, and more widely spaced as one went on, interspersed by farms, gardens, and orchards. For as long as he remembered, the yearly harvest had always been at least sufficient. Yes, some years were better than others, but this year, the summer harvest had gone on well, and the autumn harvest promised to be especially fruitful. They would have more than enough to last them through spring, and he smiled with satisfaction as he took a deep breath of the fresh night air. He was truly satisfied with his life, and there had been just a few sorrows – like the loss of his son – to make him appreciate his blessings all the more.
His pace was sedate as his sandaled feet padded along the smooth dirt path, glancing up at the olive trees that lined one side of the well-maintained avenue. Skouros looked forward to the olive-harvest time since he was partial to the fruit, and he reached up to gently grasp a low-hanging branch. Most of the olives were nearly ripe, and he quickly scanned the branch, hoping there would be a few ripe ones. He found one that was close enough and plucked it off the branch before he popped it into his mouth, smacking his lips contentedly despite the slightly unripe flavor, careful to not swallow the pit.
Mmm! Most people did not like olives right off the tree and preferred to prepare them in a variety of ways; Skouros was one of the rare few who relished the flavor of them right off the tree, spitting out seeds and enjoying the fruit. Just a few more weeks and the olives would be ready for everyone to enjoy. He looked forward to having new olives with his meals, and freshly pressed olive oil with his wife's flatbread. His reverie was interrupted as he saw a shadowy figure wandering along the path, approaching him. He frowned to himself; this part of the hill w
as part of the temple grounds, and only people under its employ were supposed to have access to this area unless it was festival, tending, or harvest time. The stranger was wrapped in a cloak that was black or dark brown; it was hard to discern under this light.
“Halt!" he said in a firm voice. The stranger was tall and broad-shouldered, but as he squinted, the drape of the cloak revealed the shape of a woman. It was definitely not one of the nymph-like temple maidens, and he wondered who this woman could possibly be. To his relief, the figure paused but did not speak.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I am but a visitor. You have no need to worry about assault.” Skouros noted that her tone was deeper than the voices of most women, but it still had a warm, feminine feel to it. “I cannot help but notice how happy this place seems. The fields are so fertile. Have you ever known hunger?”
Hunger? What did this woman speak of? “Hunger? Certainly, when I am fasting for my rituals, or when I wake up in the morning and have not yet broken the fast with my family.”
“Not that kind of hunger. True hunger, the emptiness that comes from lack of bounty. When not only is your stomach hollow, but the rest of you.” She sounded as if she spoke from experience.
“No, never. I am blessed for that.”
“Blessed?” The woman sounded almost amused. “Truly? Why?”
“My life has had few difficulties. I have spent most of my life in the service of great Zeus. He has blessed me greatly, and Olympia as well.” Surely this woman would know, if she lived here? Or was she foreign, a visitor from one of the other city-states or any of the villages that dotted Hellas? It might explain why she had traversed into an area reserved for those in Zeus's service. He was a kind man, and quick to forgive. Such a transgression could be overlooked for humble ignorance.
“Him? Just him?”
“This is the city of Zeus! Athene has Athens, Ares has Sparta, Apollo has Delphi, and Aphrodite has Cyprus. Here, Zeus takes care of us all! He truly is a great god!” His voice was passionate, showing affection for the patriarchal deity.
“He can do no wrong?”
“Of course not! He is the mighty king of Heaven and Earth! His wisdom knows no bounds. He is generous.”
“And this?” She swept her arm in the direction of the valley beyond the olive trees, where fields and orchards lay within close vicinity.
“More blessings! He sends down the rains to nurture us. What better place to live than here?”
“I see.” Her tone was unreadable.
“I invite you to come to the harvest festival. We will celebrate the harvest soon, and thank Zeus for all our blessings. Join us, it is a fun event for everyone. Zeus smiles upon us all.”
“I will consider it.” She started walking again, circumventing Skouros as he glanced at her wonderingly. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, she was gone.
o0o
So Zeus was responsible for the rich harvest that was soon to be gathered? He was the greatest and wisest of the gods? How presumptuous. Demeter would be having none of that, and slowly turned around, scanning the valley, seeing the thick rows of grain that stood tall and proud, the symbol that mortals often used to represent her Gift.
The people here believed that their good health and wealth was due to Zeus. That this selfish god was nothing but judicious and generous. Ha! Soon enough, they and the rest of Hellas would know the truth.
“The harvest will fall before any sickle can cut it!” Demeter declared. She raised her sickle, the polished blade glinting in the moonlight as she raised it above her head. The air crackled with heat and power, and she let her wrath pour out of her in rolling waves. She would no longer give. As gods and mortals saw fit to take from her, so she would return the favor a thousandfold.
The life-force that enriched the land around Olympia burned away before her fury, and she watched with grim satisfaction as the pulse of destruction spread out from her form, increasing its radius as the thick stalks of grain bowed and withered. The fruit on the branches and vines shriveled, and the soil drained the vegetables that had been so lovingly planted and tended throughout the year. Nothing that grew from the earth was spared her wrath, and even the trees dried out and became brittle, leaving a horrible dearth around Olympia that not even Zeus himself would be able to bless.
Chapter XXXII
o0o
“Daddy!” a young girl cried out, and Skouros muttered softly as he came awake, rubbing his eyes as he felt his youngest daughter tug at his sleeve. Normally, his children were not permitted in his bedchamber, and they would not violate this rule of his unless it was an emergency. He groaned and sat up, seeing that he was alone in the bed. Dear gods, had something happened to his wife? Was that why Melissa was so hysterical? Her dark brown eyes were wide and the expression on her young features did not bode well. A little girl of just five should not have such a frightened expression!
“What is it, Melissa?” he asked as he swung his feet over the side of the bed, trying to remain calm. “Has something happened to Mama?”
“No, Daddy. The gardens... And everything!”
“Gardens?” Skouros narrowed his eyes, starting to feel irritated. He would have scolded Melissa, but the fear on her face was so stark that he knew that it must be something serious. And if not, well, she was only a little girl. Sometimes the little ones tended to make a great fuss over things. Melissa was the youngest of his children, and having already raised nine children – some of them still in various stages of childhood – taught him much about being a father and what to expect from his offspring.
“Give me a moment..." he muttered, rising to his feet and feeling the slight ache in his joints. Hm, he was getting old. Oh well. He had had a full life and expected to enjoy many more years before Death came for him. His sandals sat where he had left them near the foot of the bed, and he slipped into them before tossing on a robe over his tunic against the brisk autumn air.
He let his daughter grab his hand and tug her along, leading him through the rooms and out of the house into the courtyard, and his jaw dropped as he saw the dearth around him.
“See, Daddy. I told you.”
He had a modest estate with a pleasant inner courtyard and a larger outer yard. The inner yard had a wide open space of grass and a small fountain. The other part of the courtyard was for the gardens, mainly vegetables. The grass was a sickly yellow, and when he stepped onto it, it crunched under his feet with a brittle crackle. The vegetables did not seem to be better off, judging from the wilted leaves. Not wanting to believe what he saw, he leaned down to grab the top of a carrot. The leaves came away without its fruit, and he dug his fingers into the dirt, turning up a shriveled carrot.
Skouros's heart started pounding, and his hands shook slightly.
“And... the farm?” he asked. Melissa looked down, shaking her head. He was afraid to look, but knew he needed to. The outside looked much worse. There were several trees here and there, bearing fruit at different times of the year, as well as bushes. All of the fruit that was to be harvested were now dried-up husks of their former selves, and when he pulled down a branch to examine the damage, it came off with a dry snap.
All the flowers that bloomed at this time of the year were no better off than anything he'd seen so far, many of their petals littering the ground around their parched stems and vines. The priest of Zeus walked as if in a trance, regarding everything with a dazed expression on his face even as his wife rushed towards him, reporting that their neighbors had the same exact problem on their own land. Her voice became a distant echo as he stared down the road. The valley that had been so lush, full of green and patches of other colors, was now all parched of its natural colors, even the large tracts of crops that fed the village. Wheat was by nature yellow and brown mixed into a rich deep gold color, but all he saw was the jaundiced yellow and rotted brown of dead crops. Through the buzzing that filled his ears, he heard the wails of his neighbors.
o0o
Having blighted Olympia, Demeter would not stop there. Zeus was only one god, and there was another that was responsible for the disappearance of her precious child. However, Hades had no city of his own, nor did he have any grand temples attributed to him. Normally, sacrifices to him were private, rather than turned into big festivals. His images were usually to be found within mausoleums and crypts, and rarely, in paintings or pottery. She would have to convey her message to Hades more directly, and she was more than prepared to do that. With the righteous wrath of a mother whose child had literally been stolen away from her, she descended into the dread kingdom of her brother.
o0o
Normally, Kharon had no issue with ferrying a god across the Styx to seek an audience with Hades or the Fates. However, he had explicit orders from his master to not extend this favor to Demeter for the time being, and now it was clear why. The goddess' anger was palpable, and he was relieved to launch himself away from the dock, narrowly missing her swipe as she tried to grab his cloak.
o0o
“Come back here! I will not be defied!” The souls clustered at the shore gave Demeter a wide berth, fearing this mighty deity even in death as her eyes flashed dangerously. How dare he! She felt her heart pound within her chest as the blood pulsed hotly within her veins, causing her to shake almost violently. She raised her arms, determined to reach the other side and rescue her daughter. Like Kora, she sensed the lack of life in this world, and it unnerved her. What could Hades be thinking, keeping her down here?
“You will ferry me across or face my wrath!” she roared. The souls gazed upon her with terror and awe, wondering if the Harvest Goddess was so terrifying, then what must her brother, the God of Death be like?
