by M. M. Kin
A couple of women were kneeling before it, praying quietly. A girl in her mid-teens approached her, garbed in an immaculate green and white chiton. She was a fairly attractive young woman with dark eyes and hair, and she smiled at Athene welcomingly.
“Have you come to pray before the statue, or would you like to meditate in the garden?” she asked.
“Whatever gives me more privacy,” Athene responded neutrally.
“Come with me.”
The priestess looked a bit thin as if she had gone hungry lately. This caused her to stand out in contrast to the well-fed people of Eleusis. Was she fasting?
The inner courtyard was more verdant than she had expected. It seemed that anything and everything that bloomed or grew during this time of the year was all here, fully – and lushly – represented. Though there was a clear-cut path that led from one end of the yard to the other, there were plenty of little nooks and crannies where one could sit and meditate. A natural spring bubbled from the ground, creating several small streams that crisscrossed the garden. There was a bench here and there, nearly hidden out of sight by the shrubbery. Athene saw a couple of people sitting in the nooks created by the careful planting and configuration of bushes and trees, and could not help but marvel at this place.
To Athene's surprise, there was a tree heavy with ripe olives.
“May I?” she asked, gesturing towards a low-hanging branch. The priestess nodded, so Athene plucked an olive. It was just the perfect level of ripeness, juicy and firm.
How could this be? The time to harvest olives had been over a month ago. Any olives left on the trees would have been overripe at this point. Seeing the surprise on the visitor's face, the priestess smiled.
“Demeter's blessing allows us to enjoy the fruits of our work longer. Feel free to eat anything you see here, we only ask that you do not harvest here for your home. This is for the worshipers to enjoy.”
Athene could not help but think of the marginal harvest in Athens. The olives there had been nowhere near as delicious as this. She reached out to take a few more olives as the priestess watched, and the girl did not object when Athene placed the seeds in her pocket.
“What is your name?” the priestess asked.
“Aegea," Athene responded smoothly. "And you?"
“Kalia.”
“Well, thank you for showing me here. I would like to be alone now.”
“Certainly.” Kalia inclined her head in a slight bow before cheerfully wandering off, checking on the others in the garden. Athene glanced at the tree again. What had the Eleusinians done to gain the Harvest Goddess' favor? She remembered the dearth she saw in Sparta and Olympia, where the people who were still alive barely had any strength to bury their dead.
Near the tree was a small clearing, and she sat down in the grass. It was soft and springy – even more so than some beds. She wondered if people ever fell asleep here, especially after eating the robust fruit she saw on the trees. The place certainly was picturesque, and she could feel the rich abundance of life-energy here, though unlike Demeter, she lacked the Gift to manipulate it.
She let out a slow exhale.
Demeter, I need to talk to you. Athene said, concentrating on the message and sending it out, knowing that her aunt would sense her presence, wherever she was.
There was a ripple in the air around her, as if the life-energy around here was pulsing with the beat of a human heart.
“I knew that the other gods would come sniffing around here, eventually," the voice of the Harvest Goddess whispered from around her as if coming from the plants and grass themselves.
“You would not expect us to not come to you as soon as we learned of your location? This place is beautiful and the people are so happy.”
“Naturally. But why have you, of all people, come to me? I have ensured that your city had a harvest ample enough for its needs.”
“Please do not think that I am ungrateful for it, aunt. But so many others suffer needlessly. They are not even aware of our conflict. They pray and plead to you, but you ignore them.”
“They prayed to me only when the other gods failed to give them what they needed.”
“Hm.” Athene couldn't argue about that. She usually didn't find herself outsmarted in conversation, but Demeter had done so with a simple truth. A logical argument came quickly to her mind.
“If there is one thing that can be said, it is now the gods and mortals alike are fully aware of your Gift and what a lack of it can do. You made your point. Can anyone deny your power now?”
“Yet that alone cannot bring back my daughter.”
“How we all know that. Out of all the people that had to take her, it was the one god we all do not dare to challenge openly for we know his power. Ill luck, indeed. And of course, there's Zeus's part in all this. You would think he would have become a bit wiser over the centuries.” A depreciation of Zeus would give them common ground, and Athene intended to take advantage of that in her argument.
“Loathsome oaf,” Demeter agreed heartily, the leaves on the trees rippling furiously. Athene had to bite back a smile.
“You certainly have made him aware of your displeasure. His favored priest just lost his youngest daughter.”
“Ah, I remember him well. Saying that Zeus was the greatest god of all,” Demeter said snidely. Athene frowned. She had been hoping that the mention of someone else losing their child would evoke sympathy in Demeter's heart. Skouros was anguished over the loss of his little daughter, and his others hovered near death. The man himself was little more than skin and bones. Everything that could be eaten was gone, and the children gnawed on leather straps or ate dirt in frustration, trying to appease their hunger however fleetingly.
Demeter had every right to be angry with Zeus, but it wasn't right to spread this kind of misery. Wrath truly was clouding her judgment as a testament of just how deeply angered Zeus had caused her to be.
“The mortals are as varied as the gods are. How can sailors not worship Poseidon? How can the blacksmiths not acknowledge Hephaistos? Wives and mothers need the knowledge of Hera and her strength. That man did not worship Zeus to spite you.”
“So am I to sit back and let Zeus commit a wrong against me? Despite all that is happening, he still refuses to make reparations!” Demeter retorted coolly.
“You know the pain of losing your daughter. Yet when people lose their children, you do not let up on your curse. Mothers have to bury their children every day, and the little children watch their mothers lowered into the ground. Your suffering has become a thousandfold, a hundred thousandfold. No one can deny the wrong that Zeus has committed upon you, but your vengeance has gotten out of hand. I am on your side, well and truly. You know that. But the mortals need you more than Zeus. Would you deny them simply because it was their lot to worship the ones who have angered you?”
“Zeus and the others know exactly what they can do to appease me. They have only to do so, and all of this suffering they complain about will end. That is all.” The life-energy stopped pulsating and went back to a smooth, quiet flow, and Athene knew she was alone. She let out a defeated sigh.
o0o
Aegea slid through the cool temple past two priestesses. The shorter one turned her head as the woman passed them, getting the same faint tingling sensation that she always did around Doso. The first time she had felt such a tingle, she had been alarmed, unaware of her latent talent.
Just in the way that every god had some kind of unique ability – or combination of talents – to make up their Gift, a few mortals were lucky enough to have a Gift of their own. In Melinoe's case, it was the ability to sense divine energy. Eleusis had been absent of it for as long as she had known. Though their temple had been dedicated to Zeus since her distant grandsire's time, the mighty god had paid little if any notice to the city. But in time she had come to recognize Doso's energy as positive, especially after seeing how her baby brother thrived under her care. The little boy was now walking, and his
eyes sparkled. She felt better and healthier as if Doso had somehow added vitality to the food she gardened and cooked for them.
The energy from Aegea felt different, however. It was more crisp and clear as if it was tightly restrained and given one definite direction.
“Melinoe, is something wrong?” the taller girl asked. She shook her head and turned back to Kalia. She didn't know how to explain these feelings that she had, so she kept them a secret.
“Oh, I was just wondering if I had ever seen her before. She looked new.”
“She wanted to worship in private, so I led her to the garden,” Kalia replied. Melinoe nodded approvingly. They were the two youngest priestesses of the temple. As soon as plans for the temple had been announced, a search had been announced for potential temple priestesses to come to the Palace. Doso was the one to decide who would serve the temple.
Not long after that, Kalia had come to Eleusis. It was clear that she had gone hungry for a while, and it was almost amazing that she had walked all the way here from Sparta. Under the care of the priestesses and a friendship formed with Melinoe, Kalia had offered herself to the service of Demeter. It made Melinoe happy to have a companion her age, since the others were older and more matronly, like the goddess herself. If it wasn't for Kalia's initial gaunt appearance, Melinoe wouldn't have believed her tales of a starving and ravaged Sparta. She had stolen a loaf of stale bread made from the very last of her family's wheat stores – hidden from the Spartan soldiers that had confiscated most of the farmer's dwindling stores – and a slice of goat cheese. On the road, a starving man had overwhelmed her and stolen her pack, leaving her deprived of everything but the clothes on her back.
She had been nursed back to health after using the last of her strength to get to Eleusis, though she still looked a bit gaunt. After growing close to Melinoe, Kalia had confided how she had been unhappy in Sparta and how she had always wanted something more, to serve a greater purpose in life.
o0o
“Doso, there is someone here to see you,” Metaniera said, moving to the side to reveal another old woman wearing a brown cloak that had deer woven along the hems in silver. Artemis did not miss the recognition in Demeter’s eyes.
Artemis bowed her head slightly to the queen, thanking her graciously for her assistance before the mortal woman retreated from the room.
The younger goddess regarded the old woman sitting before a loom in front of her, weaving a vibrant scene with two females dancing in the grass. One Artemis recognized immediately as Demeter herself, and the other – and smaller – figure had to be her lost daughter.
“Greetings, dear aunt.”
“Hello, Artemis. How nice to see you,” the old woman replied, continuing to weave. Artemis's cloak slid away, revealing her true form.
The Goddess of the Hunt was a tall and graceful woman, wild hair tied back though several thick waves were loose, framing her face in a way that made her lovely in a way she didn't intend. She was clad in a plain cream-colored tunic and brown linen leggings. Her lower legs were wrapped in leather straps that connected with comfortable sandals.
“It is so nice and warm here. No wonder the Eleusinians bask in your glory.” Artemis's tone had a touch of flattery in it, but also admiration. She paused. “Am I welcome here?”
“You may approach,” Demeter replied regally. Artemis approached her, her head held high, the sunlight catching in her dark brown hair and bringing out auburn highlights. Her eyes were tawny brown, with flecks of gold.
“I do not have a child of my own, but mothers pray to me to protect their daughters. I take girls under my wing to protect them from the eyes and hands of men,” the Goddess of the Wild said, her palms upturned in supplication and respect. “You have seen the caprices and cruelty of men, as well as their selfishness.”
“Indeed.” Demeter looked at her gravely, looking like a grieving widow in her black cloak.
“When I was little, Father had me on his knee and told me that I could have any wish I wanted. I told him that I wished to be the mistress of my own life and body, beholden to no man. He granted the wish and must honor it, for I was wise enough to make him swear by the Styx. It is too bad that he will not honor a woman otherwise,” Artemis said with a disgusted shake of her head.
o0o
Demeter remembered the wish that Zeus had offered Kora. She should have suggested that to her daughter! Zeus said that her daughter could claim it any time, which meant...
The Goddess of the Harvest got a sudden glint in her eyes. Surely she could not be denied a message to or from her daughter! That was well within her right! It wasn't at all an unreasonable request. Kora could use that wish to make her sire annul this... indecent union!
“I understand your wrath, aunt. You have every right to be angry. But you are not just hurting Zeus. Everyone suffers from your rage. Humans and animals alike starve because you would not allow the fruits of the earth to be harvested. Men have become so desperate and hungry that they go to the forests and strip it bare of both plants and animals... I beseech you. Lash out at Zeus, not the world!”
“The only way to get through that thick skull of his is to take away what he loves most – his precious humans.” Demeter's eyes narrowed, her lips twisting into a grimace. “But... there is something you can do for me, for the sake of your creatures...”
“Name it.”
“Go back to Zeus. Tell him to remember that he gave Kora a wish years ago and that she has not yet used it.”
Artemis's lips curved in an understanding smile as she nodded, being wise enough to not press her argument any further. “Then there is a way out for her yet.”
o0o
“What you ask for cannot be done,” Zeus said as he stared at his daughter with solemn regard. He had all but forgotten that wish he had granted his other daughter all these years ago. Of course, if she still desired something – a gift, perhaps, to make her feel better about being down there, then the King of the Gods would give it to her. Defying Hades's will was another matter entirely.
“How can you deny Demeter or Kora?” Artemis demanded.
“Were it any other man who kidnapped her, I would not permit it. But this is Hades we are talking about/”
“So?”
“So! This is Hades. The God of Death. Even a god must fear Death.”
“He is your brother. And Demeter's brother. Surely he can be appealed to. He refuses Demeter audience, does he not?”
“He says that she will not be admitted to the Underworld until she is ready to accept her daughter's fate.”
Artemis groaned as she rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air.
“My sentiments exactly,” the King of the Skies commented.
“Excuse me, I could not help but overhear,” Hebe said as she brought up some ambrosia and nectar. Generally, gods did not like to have their conversations intruded upon, but Hebe was a quiet and efficient girl who often dispensed surprisingly good advice. Zeus smiled at her indulgently, and Artemis regarded her with an encouraging nod.
“You say you gave Hades your blessing to have her, correct?” the Goddess of Youth asked.
“Indeed.”
“Did he sound in all intent, to have her as his proper queen, and such? Hermes says she even has a new name.”
“Yes. He claimed that he would have no one else as his bride.”
“Aha.” Hebe stroked her chin, and the other two glanced at her with curiosity. Her dark eyes twinkled. “Perhaps one way to lure him – and her – up here is to have a wedding. They are not properly married yet, are they?”
“I... do not know. Hades did not say anything about a wedding celebration, but I assume we would have one up here once Demeter got her good sense back. After all, he is a proper man. That is, if he has not already married her amidst the dead souls.”
Artemis and Hebe exchanged a sideways glance as their father said that.
“You should send Hermes down there and ask him what he intends to d
o. That knowledge might aid you,” Artemis offered. “I need to speak to him myself about something else, and will be glad to relay this message.”
“Go ahead.” Zeus waved his arm dismissively, glad to be free of the situation for the moment.
Artemis rose from the seat, biting back a wry smile as she inclined her head in a respectful bow, before impulsively kissing his cheek in a display of affection. He beamed up at her, and she skipped away, inwardly gleeful at how predictable her father could be at times.
o0o
Hermes absolutely hated these trips to the Underworld. He could zip along the paths of the Underworld with relative ease, still having some of his super-speed here, but he always had to fight the urge to look over his shoulder. The onyx Palace loomed before him, its front gates opening for him like a gaping maw to devour him.
He soared along the grand marble hall and through the arched doorway – topped with a sinister marble replica of Kerberos – and entered the throne room, sliding to a stop in front of the thrones. The one on Hades's left was empty. Thankfully, the Lord of the Dead appeared to be in a patient mood. His shoulders were relaxed, and he leaned against one side of the throne slightly, appearing as if he expected this meeting to be brief and of little import. Hermes frowned for a moment. Hmph.
