#And we all know that the only mortal Zeus paid that kind of attention to was Ganymede

[dysany]

you know I'm thinking a lot about Jason Grace tonight, I don't know if this is how I want to start 2023

How did Beryl convince him to stay put, probably for a few hours, when she handed him over to Lupa? Did she say it was a joke? If so, how does Jason see "jokes" after he grows up, since in his last experience, his mother abandoned him in the cold of the night for hours while wolves surrounded him

She just... yelled at him? Threatened him? Maybe she said something mean, about how she only wants him to behave once? She wasn't a good mother, not a good person, it's not an impossible scenario. But she must have hurt him so much about it. A little baby, Holding back tears, in the cold and alone just wanting to make his mother happy for a second. He doesn't like it when she screams, it scares him.

He must hate being yelled at, probably hates being left alone and doesn't like the cold or The smell of drinks and perfumes. Everything reminds him of that last moment with her

What Im trying to say is: poor Jason :( (And Thalia, but I think her part is more about confrontation and neglect than literal abandonment.

[currycurrie]

Okay so my RQG liveblogging and listening has completely fallen to the wayside in recent weeks. With things the way they are my work load at my job has literally doubled, and it’s been hard to listen to podcasts in general as I work recently let alone take notes to liveblog with. And then also my phone broke on top of that which threw an extra wrench in things. (Also all my friends have been constantly pestering me to play TTRPGs because they have nothing to do so most of my free time has been spent rolling dice.) I haven’t even been able to check the RQG discord! But I’m doing my damndest! So here’s a massive post of basically all my thoughts on the Cairo arc!

Also oops it ended up being over 1000 words because I love to ramble so everything is under a cut! 

So I met Hamid’s family. Finally. Under terrible and tense circumstances, but I finally got a proper read on them nonetheless. Ever since Hamid’s rather extreme reaction to the fake “we’re proud of you!” note back in Paris, I have been just extremely suspicious of them. And after 0.02 seconds of experience their family dynamic it all made sense. Quiet but loving mother. Extremely capable sister doing her best to break away from the family business (and therefore the family dysfunction), extreme mess of an older brother who has way too much on his shoulders, the twins who are just kids trying to be kids. And then Hamid’s dad. Allergic to affection. No fun allowed. High expectations. And then also no one talks because classic rich people family. (Fuck Downton Abbey can we get an extended series on just the Al-Tehans?) More on them later. 

Finally met a Meritocrat. Face to face. And my instant gut reaction was EVIL AWFUL TERRIBLE DOWN WITH THE MERITOCRACY VIVA LA REVOLUTION! And that’s despite the fact that this Meritocrat was nothing but charming and warm. (Me? Have problems with authority? Never! Could you even imagine?)The whole thing just sent shivers down my spine. All the pomp and circumstance surrounding the meeting? The robes etc.? it felt very pseudo-religion. Obviously these dragony jerks aren’t literally outright saying “HELLO HUMANITY WE ARE YOUR GODS NOW.” but it doesn’t really need to be said does it? You know what their meddling with humanity feels like? It feels like the IRL effort of people to save the pandas. Here are these animals that are just dying out and seemingly refuse to save themselves so people have inserted themselves into the natural order of things and put pandas in captivity and also their captivity doubles as entertainment for people. (Disclaimer: this is a very negative seeming statement on the conservation of pandas and I am 100% behind the people trying to save them it is just the best metaphor I could come up with.) Anyway, eat the rich and also the Meritocrats.

Concerning the Cairo Meritocrat more specifically, am I the only one who got Zeus vibes? “Hi I’m Zeus and I will fuck anything that moves and meddle with the affairs of mortals constantly! It’s fine! I’m a god!” Of course I am making this rather strong assumption after one ten minute meeting with them. Just the whole “you wear your heritage well” statement gave me such the creeps! I didn’t like it! That and the whole keeping it quiet thing like. I don’t know. I just don’t like the whole thing. Bad vibes. 

In good news though, Sasha is better! (I literally burst into tears when she sneakily ran back to the cleric who healed her for a quick hug. She’s so good. Ugh.) But of course, it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t wax poetic about the world building implications of resurrections being illegal. It’s a very interesting concept, immortality just casually existing in a place. One detail that I disagree with is that people seem generally okay with not having resurrection, and that there isn’t really a black market for it. I don’t think most people would be cool with that and take it lying down so easily. Especially if they had access to it before which seems to be the implication. The Meritocrats seem very black or white in their rulings on things. It’s like they just said to a spoiled child “If you can’t share your toys then no one gets any toys at all!” There needs to be room for more nuance in the world. Interestingly, I kind of agree with their premise that humanity will never “move on” so to speak if everyone can live forever and so on, but there has to be some sort of happy medium here!

Speaking of happy mediums, I have a bone to pick with our two local paladins. Inflexible morality just really grinds my gears! So much! But! I love love love that interparty conflict! We got a little taste of it with Hamid and Zolf, but the paladins turned the inflexibility up to 11 and broke the knob off. Things were left entirely unresolved, and there’s no way that whole conflict doesn’t absolutely explode at some point. It was so interesting listening to Grizzop struggle to justify his system of morality. He couldn’t really! But the thing is, the gods are real. Without a doubt they are real. There was a throw away line that never got addressed at all that was something along the lines of, “there are so many gods with so many differing morals, how do we know which one is right?” I REALLY hope this gets explored more. In all my world building for my homebrew setting I always paid extra attention to the dynamics between the gods and possible consequences of them. I love this shit so much. 

Also, hey, fuck Barrett. Like for real though. He’s just so goddamn awful. 

And while we’re at it, FUCK CARTER. GOOD GOLLY GOSH YALL. HOW CAN PEOPLE BE THIS AWFUL WITH NO SELF-AWARENESS???? Please tell me he never shows his face again. (Who am I kidding? I just said that now I bet he won’t go away.)

Ehem. Anyway. Hamid’s father. I was initially surprised by just how much he cares about his family. Willing to take the fall for them. For literal murder. Without a second thought. Without a question. But the more I thought about it, the more obvious it became that he really does care. It’s such a delicious example of grey morality and character nuance and just YES. Of course, just because he does in fact care does not excuse years of mistreatment and the actual disowning of Hamid. Fuck toxic masculinity yall. 

Also, Hamid finally spilled his beans! And everything about him makes so much more sense. I am holding out going into more depth on my thoughts about this because it’s 100% giving me Taako vibes. And I’m expecting the true culpability to be revealed later on. Also the twins are sorcerers too! And they have no idea how lucky they are to have Hamid as a guide. That moment where Hamid talked about tutors for them meant so much more than appeared on surface level and I definitely got so teary. 

Azu continues to be an absolute joy and a ray of sunshine in this shitty shitty world. I love her. I can’t wait to figure out more about her. May she never lose that enthusiasm. Please. Alex don’t break her too much. 

And now we’re in Damascus pretending to be factory inspectors! Back to our regularly scheduled much smaller liveblog posts! 

[felidaeix]

Greek Gods Au

——————————————————————————

You’d think being the goddess of the underworld would be living the life, but for Beverly Marsh, aka Hades, it was anything but. For starters, the poor girl was stuck underground for a good majority of the time. When she did come to the surface of the earth, it was only to collect the souls of the deceased every now and then when they couldn’t find their way to an entrance.

On this particular day, the goddess of the underworld planned to visit to steal some pomegranate seeds to plant a garden and make her dark city more colorful.

The girl ordered her servants to ready her carriage and watched as the skeletons rushed to do so. Knowing that her beloved Cerberus would listen to only her, she rose from her throne and made her way outside. Walking into the dark courtyard, Beverly was greeted by skeletons and spirits rushing about getting her carriage ready. She crossed to the black object and rested her hand against the side. She looked inside and admired the cherry red interior before turning away and raising her hand to her mouth, whistling.

In a matter of seconds, the ground was rumbling as Beverly’s pets came running. She grinned as three giant dogs ran up to her, butting their heads against her and happily barking.

“Yeah, yeah. I missed you too Cerberus.” She laughed as she pet the beasts. “Wanna go for a run boy?” When the dogs let out a loud excited howl, she giggled and patted each of their heads. “Alright, then fuse and let’s go, baby!”

With a bark, the three dogs pressed together and began melting into each other. To a normal person, this would be a disgusting sight. But being, the goddess of the underworld Beverly saw disgusting shit every day. She turned back to her carriage and waited for a servant to open the door. Once one did, she climbed inside and sat on the velvet seat.

“Thank you, Reginald.” She dipped her head and smiled when the spirit bowed and shut the door. She rested her elbow against the window sill, then jumped when a minute later the carriage lurched forward and began to move.

While the carriage traveled to the nearest exit from the underworld, the goddess busied herself with brushing dirt and dust off of her black and plum colored dress. Had to be presentable to the mortals after all.

Beverly knew she was close to the surface when she heard the growling of Cerberus and felt the carriage rumbling as the earth opened around them.

As the chariot emerged, light flooded into the interior. The goddess shaded her eyes with her arm and squinted, annoyed immediately. Her eyes needed time to adjust gradually, not be thrown immediately into sunlight.

With a groan, she lowered her arm and allowed her eyesight to adjust. She watched the countryside whizz by out of the carriage window. She knew the route they took would be marked with death until Demeter, or Mike, came and took the same path, healing the dead spots with his magic.

She began to lose herself in thought until she felt the carriage slow and eventually stop. She rose from her seat, opening the carriage door for herself and stepping down onto the rung, then onto the ground. The moment her feet touched the ground, the grass wilted and died. Bones from things that had died began to rise from the ground. A deer skeleton pulled itself from the dirt and reassembled, walking forward and bowing its head.

Beverly reached up and rested her hand on the creatures forehead between its antlers. She gave a soft smile and removed her hand before focusing back on the task at hand. As she left and walked towards Cerberus, the skeletal deer followed as well as a few skeletal rabbits and other various small creatures. She pet the three headed dog and kissed his nose.

“Stay, I’ll return in a minute and we can go back home.” The giant beast barked and laid down, wagging his tail. At that, she began walking towards a grove nearby where she spotted pomegranates hanging from the trees, as well as red apples. As the goddess neared the grove, she noticed the trees would wilt only for a second before returning lush and green only a mere moment later.

Beverly was amazed by this, usually only experiencing death. She traveled deeper into the grove, gray-green eyes wide with amazement as she touched plants and watched them spring to life. The girl stopped when she reached a clearing in the grove.

Light filtered down through the tree leaves, casting speckled shadows upon the ground and a figure that stood at the end of the clearing, underneath a large apple tree. Their back was turned to the goddess, and she sensed no danger from the being.

The girl was content observing the figure until she felt something raking up and down her back. She yelped loudly, lunging forward and whipping around. She was greeted by the skeleton deer from before, as it had decided to follow her. The ginger glared, prepared to send the creature back into the dirt until she felt something wrap around her wrist.

She quickly tugged, finding a leafy vine had sprouted from the dirt and bound her. She turned, a small ball of blue flame forming in her palm.

“You better let me go right-“ The words died in her throat when she was greeted by the sight of her captor. She was expecting either some stupidly brave mortal or an angry god/goddess, but she was greeted by probably the most scared looking human she had ever seen.

“You’re Hades...!” They cried, the vine vanishing almost immediately afterwards. Beverly extinguished her flame and rubbed her wrist.

“Yes? And what of it?” She glared.

The being came closer, cautiously. Their movements and habits at the moment were reminding Beverly of a frightened deer. It was kind of adorable, if she was being truthful.

“My friend.. Mother? Mom friend, told me of you.” They finally stopped at at least an arms length away and Bev nearly melted at how cute they were. They were short, chubby, and wearing a toga and a flower crown. She couldn’t help but feel completely safe around them immediately.

“Oh? I hope it was good things.” She gave a half smile and watched as the other shuffled their feet, almost bashfully.

“Well... They didn’t mention a few things but other than that, good things were said, yes.”

“Well I’m glad. What is your name?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My... Mortal name or my ... God name?” They asked, blinking and furrowing their eyebrows.

“God? You’re a god?” Zeus blessed her upon this day. She had never met a god she didn’t want to kill immediately upon them opening their mouth, much less them walking up to her. So meeting a god and immediately having her chest be filled with warmth and her stomach be filled with skeletal butterflies was something new and welcomed into her life.

“Yes. I’m Persephone.” He smiled proudly, and Beverly swore she could feel the air warm up and the sun brighten.

“Persephone... Perseph- Mike’s friend?!” Beverly blinked, her jaw dropping. She had never paid attention to when Mike / Demeter would run his mouth about how proud of his friend he was and how he “couldn’t wait for everyone to meet him!” And now she regretted it.

“You know his mortal name?” Persephone looked amazed.

“I know everyone’s mortal names, it’s a bonus of being close to Bill.” She laughed, but stopped when she felt the other gods eyes on her. “Are you staring because you didn’t know Zeus’s mortal name or...?”

Persephone shook his head and hid his burning red face. “Oh! Yeah, sorry... Mike doesn’t really call anyone by their mortal names.”

“He’s an old fashioned dork, that much can be said.” The pair shared a chuckle, and Persephone nodded in agreement.

“That’s true. I think he still herds his sheep himself.”

I’m just gonna do a quick time skip and come back my brain don’t wanna write this part anymore

As Beverly climbed into her carriage, she froze when she heard Persephone yell from behind her.

“Wait! Hades!” The goddess stepped down off the rung and turned, smiling softly to herself as she saw the god running towards her. When he reached her, she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“And what might you need, Persephone?” She asked.

“I want to come with you.”

His response caught her so off guard that her arms dropped to her sides, as well as her jaw.

“You what?”

“I want to come with you, I want to see the underworld.” Persephone gave a shy smile. “I never get to explore and see everything very often, and it’s not every day you meet the goddess of the underworld. I just... I’m tired of being-“

“Okay.” Beverly didn’t need to hear anymore. Truthfully, she’d accept any excuse to spend more time with Persephone.

“Stuck with Mike all da- Wait what you’ll... You’ll let me come?” The god was dumbfounded.

“Yeah, sure. Why not? I’m nothing if not generous.” She laughed, kidding. “Besides, having your company for a bit longer might not be so bad.”

Persephone flushed red at this, giving a smile. “Thank you.”

Beverly beamed and held her hand out for the other to take so she could help him into the carriage.

“Beauty before the Beast.” She said, giving him a playful wink.

When he tripped, she began laughing, and laughing hard.

[lilacmoon83]

Dreaming Out Loud

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 107: Click Your Heels Together Three Times

Frollo seethed angrily, as he watched Snow White and her army overthrow his King and imprison him again. It had been a few months now since everything had occurred. Naturally, he had been ready to interfere and make sure this was one battle that she lost, but the battle between the Gods had rattled the heavens in a violent way and to his horror, Zeus had been dethroned by Persephone and she now ruled in his place. And he wasn't sure that he, even with all his new powers, could challenge her. Yet. He paced the expanse of his new laboratory, inside Bald Mountain, anxiously. He was infuriated by this turn of events. For all intents and purposes, Snow White and her mother had ended the war and now each sat on their respective Thrones.

"There must be a way to turn things back in my favor," he brooded, as he looked through his books and finally chose the one labeled, "The Black Cauldron."

It was the book he had obtained with the Cauldron he used in his work with alchemy and scientific experiments. It now aided him in melding magical spells with science and had been used to create the magic suppressing cuffs and the gauntlets he had encased Midas' hands with to prevent him from utilizing his touch. It was powerful and he had acquired it from three witches and stole it from them. He still remembered one of the witches warning him about the power of the Cauldron and how it could doom the world if its power didn't remain under control. But Frollo paid her no mind and he had the witches taken back to his home country where they were executed for being exactly what they were.

He leafed through the ancient spell book and took note of the many powerful spells. There was one where the Cauldron could create an undead army and though he knew such could give Persephone and the Gods quite the challenge, it wasn't enough. He needed to take their magic completely and that would require more than just magic suppressing cuffs.

"What you need...is a curse," a voice interjected and Frollo turned to find the disgraced and now very mortals forms of Zeus and Deimos.

"And how could you possibly help me in anyway now?" Frollo questioned.

"With knowledge, of course. I still have all my knowledge," Zeus countered.

"And what do you mean by curse?" Frollo asked.

"I know for a fact that Queen Regina seeks to cast a dark curse that will take us all to a Land Without Magic. She wishes to punish those that have wronged her and sending them to Wonderland and Oz won't suffice her for long. She'll seek to take her enemies with her," Zeus responded.

"And why would I care about this curse or want to go to a place without magic?" Frollo questioned.

"Yes, I suppose that is offensive to your monster-half, but to your human side, this land would be very appealing. It may not have magic, but it is a land where science dominates," Zeus continued.

"Interesting...but what do I gain with a curse?" he questioned.

"Because the curse is whatever who casts it wants it to be. You could control the lives of everyone, in a land where they would have no memories. You could make your enemies miserable, reward your allies...and have whomever you want in your bed," Deimos tempted.

"Yes...no Bishop or church to scold you for wanting the pleasures of the flesh; something any man wants," Zeus purported.

"You would rule...with our assistance, of course. You could be a Judge again and punish your enemies. Your enemies in chains...and your allies in power," Deimos added.

"And how do I get this curse from Queen Regina?" Frollo questioned.

"You let her cast it and then you crash in and take it over at the last minute," Zeus said. Frollo paced in the chamber and looked into the Cauldron, as it became his viewing pool. He observed a grand celebration at Midas' Palace, with Snow White on the arm of her shepherd husband, celebrating their victory. Hades and Persephone were there too, drinking to their victory and doting on their precious, golden little family. He seethed at that. It was preposterous that that demon family was now in power when it should be him and King Arawn.

"Or better yet...you make a deal with Queen Regina. She doesn't look entirely happy about all this happiness and bliss," Deimos observed.

"Hmm...an alliance with Regina could be beneficial, especially with the kind of misery I could promise everyone," Frollo stated, as he watched her converse with the Dark One.

"Rumpelstiltskin is a problem though. As long as he is pulling her strings, the curse will eventually be broken," Zeus advised.

"The Dark One wants it cast, but also wants it broken?" Frollo inquired.

"Yes...he has built in a fail safe to the curse. Snow White and Prince Charming's true love. They will birth the Savior that will break the curse and right now, that Savior is already in the womb of Snow White," Zeus confirmed, as they watched Prince David put his hand on his wife's abdomen, his face lit with a beaming smile.

"The child will have magic?" Frollo asked.

"Yes...she will be born with an abundance of light magic and save her parents, as well as their people. Athena has foretold it," Zeus responded.

"But Athena did not count on me or my interference," Frollo countered.

"Tell me everything about this curse" he requested.

~*~

The ball at Midas' castle was perhaps the grandest that any of them had seen in many years. In her childhood, Snow didn't care for them as her father's court was always very unkind to her. But to attend one with the man she loved was an exciting event. She wore a beautiful sleeveless orchid gown and David was dressed in a grayish/silver ensemble with a white sash. Snow gazed at him dreamily, as they danced closely. Probably too closely than was proper at a formal ball, even for a married couple, but neither of them cared, nor was anyone going to tell the daughter and son-in-law of Persephone that they were being "too affectionate,"

"What are you thinking?" he whispered, as they swayed with her flush against him.

"About how happy I am...these last few months of peace. I could get used to it...no more fighting...and a family," she said, as she bit her bottom lip and searched his eyes. His soft smile became a wide grin.

"A family...oh Snow, I can't wait to have babies with you," he replied.

"So...if I told you that you won't have to wait very long...you'd be happy?" she asked. His eyes widened and he looked at her still flat stomach.

"Snow...are you?" he asked and she nodded tearfully. He hugged her tightly and kissed her passionately.

"Oh Snow…" he breathed, as he pressed his forehead against hers. They continued to sway together for quite some time and barely noticed the man that cautiously approached them. When Snow did notice him, she recognized him as the Duke that was formerly a part of her father's court; a man that she and David had quickly ousted with the rest of the old court.

"Your Majesty...I know that I have acted foolishly in the past, but I am hoping that all that can be set aside. I am ready to serve you and your husband," he said. But Snow bristled at this man's clear attempt to manipulate her.

"I watched you belittle and berate my father for years. I watched you undermine him for years. I heard you call me demon spawn, bastard, and mongrel for years. You ordered my execution on the spot without bothering to search for the truth," Snow snapped.

"You can continue to live in my Kingdom and consider that a true act of kindness that you do not deserve. But you will never be a part of my court," Snow refuted, as he slunk away.

"He had nerve," David commented.

"He did...but I'm not going to let him ruin this night for us," she replied. He smiled.

"No one, least of all him, could do that," he agreed, as he kissed her again.

As their lips parted, they saw that Midas was bringing the room to attention and the music was quieted, as he addressed the room.

"I wanted to take a moment and thank everyone for coming to this celebration. It has only been a few months since this Kingdom and many others were liberated," he began.

"King Arawn not only took my Kingdom from me, but also my magic. My people lived in fear and there was nothing I could do to help them," he continued.

"Then we were all liberated by Snow White, daughter of the Goddess Persephone, and her army. Goddess, you were gracious enough to remove the manacles that restricted my powers and for that, I am forever in the debt of you and your lovely daughter," he added. Snow suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, as Midas pandered to her and her mother. They were getting a lot of that lately and she knew some were doing it simply because it was her mother that held power now.

"To honor you for our liberation, Goddess, we have erected a monument in your honor," Midas said, as a sheet was pulled and an ivory statue in her mother's likeness was revealed.

"And now with my touch, I emblazon this monument in gold," he announced, as some still awwed when Midas displayed the use of his power. Snow winced, as her mother seemed mortified. Many of the Gods liked it when mortals made monuments to them, but her mother was not one of them. Hades chuckled.

"It's an inspiring likeness," he teased.

"You be quiet...this is not funny," she scolded, as he put his arms around her.

"Oh but it is," he disagreed and she gave him a look and then stepped forward.

"Thank you King Midas...though I think this is a bit much, I appreciate your gesture of gratitude," she said neutrally. Honestly, this was the part of ruling she would never care for. The politics and pandering.

"Nothing is too much for the one that has saved us all and that is why I did not forget to honor your lovely daughter," he continued.

"Now I'm her lovely daughter...I used to be a demon spawn," Snow deadpanned quietly to her husband.

"He used to be best pals with my father, so don't trust him for a second," James advised, as he stood close by. Midas had done his best in the last few months to distance himself from George, especially after James took the Throne. His father was still around, but James had basically stripped him of his power and he was all but a figurehead now, much to his chagrin.

"We honor Snow White and her Prince for saving us all from King Arawn!" Midas announced.

"Didn't he call me the prince of peasants a few months ago?" David whispered to her.

"Mmmhmm...he did. I'm surprised his nose isn't turning brown," she whispered back.

"I offer this tribute to you both for freeing us all from tyranny," Midas continued.

"He means he offers this as thanks that he got his gold touch back," Lancelot joked, as a sheet was pulled and another ivory statue was revealed.

"Oh...he made one of us too," Snow said nervously to her husband.

"This is the part where we have to be nice, isn't it?" David asked.

"It is," she replied.

"I definitely prefer doing the fighting versus the talking," he said.

"Thank you King Midas...it's wonderful," she said, hoping that quickly accepting his gift would get him to move on.

"Oh, but I haven't emblazoned it in gold yet," Midas replied, as he prepared to touch it.

"Oh no...I think it is better this way," Snow protested. Midas seemed perplexed by that.

"But it's not gold," he said.

"He really takes the whole gold thing to extreme, doesn't he?" David whispered to her and she elbowed him in the ribs.

"Yes, Your Majesty, but ivory is a very valuable material in our Kingdom and quite rare. We graciously accept your gift," Snow said.

"Where are we going to put that?" David asked.

"In the garden, I suppose? We can plant snowdrops around it," she replied. He nodded and shrugged.

"It is better that it's not gold. Maybe it will grow on us," he agreed and she smiled, as she felt him kiss her hair.

"Maybe our babies will have fun climbing on it someday," he whispered and her smile widened, as she looked at him.

"Babies? Like plural?" she asked. He grinned at her.

"Yeah, plural...if that's something you'd like too," he replied. She kissed his cheek.

"It's something I will love," she agreed, as the ball resumed and he swept her into his arms again, resuming their dance.

~*~

Regina rolled her eyes, as Midas presented a statue in the likeness of Snow and her Prince to everyone. All the praise for Snow and none for her, despite the fact that she set their victory in motion. Regina may have been Queen now, but she couldn't help but resent the happiness of others, especially Snow. She had what Regina was supposed to have. True love. But that was gone now. She was Queen and she had revenge on her mother and sister. But it left her with an empty feeling.

Then there was the curse, her key to truly winning and ruling all. Persephone and Hades, nor the others were allowed to interfere, and in return, she had promised to give them all good lives. But she was starting to regret that part of the deal. Getting revenge on her mother and sister had only created a deep seeded hatred inside her that was blackening her soul. She found herself wanting revenge on everyone else, just for being happier than she was.

"They're sickening, aren't they?" James commented, referring to his brother and sister-in-law. Regina smirked.

"They are. If you didn't look exactly like him, I'd never know the two of you were even related," she offered, as she saw the two of them now celebrating again, as Hades, Eli, and Persephone seemed overjoyed and were hugging the pair.

"What's that about?" Regina wondered.

"Apparently...Snow is with child," James answered, surprising Regina, though she probably shouldn't have been shocked at all.

"Snow is pregnant?" she asked. James nodded.

"Yep...just when I think my brother already has everything, he gets more," he added. And then Regina realized exactly what she was missing. The room, though large and expansive, suddenly felt very claustrophobic and she started to search for an exit.

"Oh Regina...I just wanted to thank you again," Snow said, as she stopped the other woman.

"What? For making you eat a poisoned apple?" the Queen questioned. Snow chuckled.

"Actually yes, I guess...it was better than what awaited me at Frollo's hand," she replied.

"Hmm...yes I suppose it was," Regina mused, as she suddenly imagined Snow being terrorized by the monstrous being or running for her life through the woods, while her Black Knights chased her. Or being tied to a stake and then throwing a fireball at her. It was all very appealing and horrific and she wished she wasn't thinking such things. But she couldn't help it. Snow's happiness seemed to the bane of her existence and as she looked around, she realized everyone's happiness made her feel sick and empty.

"Are you okay?" Snow asked, noticing how troubled the other woman seemed.

"I'm fine!" Regina snapped, causing Snow to recoil a bit. And then Regina imagined what it would be like if Snow was the one that felt alone and empty. With the power of the curse, she could make that happen. She could rip her Charming away and the baby. She could rip them all apart and make them as miserable as she was. That would be truly winning, wouldn't it?

"I'm fine...excuse me," Regina said, as she stormed out, leaving them to wonder about her.

~*~

"Regina...Regina...slow down!" Henry pleaded, as he followed his angry daughter to her carriage.

"I need to see the Dark One," she announced, as she prepared to get into her carriage, until she heard a voice.

"Right here, dearie…" Rumpelstiltskin said, as he appeared.

"You…" she growled.

"Ooh...a bit unhappy, are we?" he teased.

"I got rid of my mother and sister...but it's not enough! My revenge is supposed to be complete with this curse, but even when I cast it, I'll still be the one unhappy!" she realized.

"The curse is whatever you want it to be. You can use it to destroy all the happy endings if you want," Rumple offered.

"Yes...until it's broken," Frollo interjected, as he appeared.

"This is none of your concern, Chernabog," Rumple hissed dangerously.

"Broken?" Regina questioned.

"Yes...he has not told you everything. He has built a fail safe into your curse and on the child's twenty-eighth birthday, she will come to break the curse," Frollo told her.

"What child?" Regina questioned, as she looked at her mentor. But Frollo answered.

"Snow White and Prince Charming's," he revealed.

"So what you're saying is that it will be Snow that ultimately destroys my happiness?" she asked, as she glared at the Dark One.

"You've just been using me," Regina hissed.

"Well, you made yourself ripe for the picking, dearie…" he retorted unkindly, as he glared at the former Judge. He was ruining everything he had worked three hundred years for.

"What's going on?" Snow asked, as she came out with her family and gasped when she saw Frollo.

"You…" Regina hissed, as she stalked toward her with a menacing stare. David unsheathed his sword and cut her off on her path to his wife, but she used her magic to sweep him out of the way and he hit a tree.

"Charming!" Snow cried out, as she tried to rush to him, but she was stopped by Regina.

"The Dark One didn't tell me that it was your baby that can break my curse...and I can't have that," she said.

"Regina...what do you think you're doing?" Persephone warned.

"You all got your happy endings...I helped you get them! Yet I'm left with nothing!" she seethed.

"The curse will give me everything...until it won't when this brat inside you spoils it all!" she raved.

"Regina please...you're not like this…" Snow pleaded.

"How would you know?! You're too wrapped up in your perfect little life to notice me," she snapped.

"If you cast the curse now...that brat will never be born and the curse will never break. You can make it eternal misery for all," Frollo offered, as he waved his hand and the Black Cauldron appeared before them, brimming with everything needed, except the final ingredient.

"Is that...the Black Cauldron?" Hades questioned.

"It is…" Frollo confirmed.

"Why does that matter?" Eli questioned, as he helped his son-in-law to his feet.

"It will make the curse ten times larger and worse than normal," Persephone answered.

"Larger?" David questioned.

"No lands will escape," Hades replied, as David ran to Snow and put his arms around her.

"Why are you doing this?!" he demanded to know.

"Because I'm tired of losing everything. I tried to be good and it got me nothing, so it's time to try something else," Regina answered.

"The Dark One failed to tell you about the final ingredient, I'm afraid," Frollo stated.

"What are you talking about?" the Queen snapped.

"The final thing the curse requires is the heart of the thing you love most," Frollo revealed. Regina frowned and then looked at her father. He was all she had left and the only person she loved.

"Daddy…" she uttered.

"Regina...this will not make you happy," he warned, as she approached him. A tear slipped down her cheek.

"I'm sorry Daddy...but I just want to be happy. This is the only way," she said and Snow screamed, as Regina's hand went into his chest.

~*~

Emma stood in the dreamscape, horrified at how things had gone so wrong in the blink of an eye.

"She's going to cast it before I'm born…" she realized, as she looked at her hands, which were starting to look transparent.

"Hurry Emma...she's made the decision quite easy now. You must reverse everything," Athena advised.

"How? Cause unless you have a pair of ruby slippers that will let me tap my heels together three times and chant, "there's no place like home," then I think we're screwed," the blonde said sarcastically. Athena smiled.

"No need for any of that. The answer is much more simplified," Athena answered, as she

put Henry's book in her hand and Emma saw the page in it, newly written, about how Zelena had used her to enact her spell.

"I'm one of the talismans...so I need to get the other talismans," Emma realized.

"But how can I do that from here?" she questioned. Athena smiled gently.

"Emma...you are the product of true love and much more than just a talisman. You have your mother's heart and your father's courage. And you may not have as much knowledge as Rumpelstiltskin or the Gods, but you have the knowledge of love and family," Athena advised.

"My parents...and Henry…" Emma realized, as she thought about growing up with them in the dreamscape and then her son finding her. And she realized that she wanted that life back and she knew her parents would too.

"I want our life back…" Emma declared, as light erupted from her and then it engulfed the entire land…

~*~

Circe and her followers marched through the quiet town that evening. Everyone was attending the ball that night and they intended to crash it. They may have stolen magic, but as far as she could tell, they had not released it back into the town. That meant they had a small window where taking over would be possible. They were all armed with high-tech plasma weapons and it was time for a reckoning. Little could they know, the reckoning was happening without them.

"Madam Circe...look!" Captain Channing said, as he pointed at Cronus palace and they watched the roof be torn off.

"What is that?" one of her other followers asked.

"Magic…" she growled, as they suddenly watched the entire palace disappear. Next, the clock tower disappeared, then Granny's, and everything on Main Street. The magic swept around them and when it was gone, there was nothing but woods around them, like there had never been a town there in the first place.

"What the hell just happened?" Channing asked. But even Circe had no answers. Storybrooke was gone, without a trace or explanation to offer. And with it, gone was her revenge, leaving her with nothing.

Strangely, just as quickly as the town had disappeared, it started to reappear again.

"What's happening now?" Channing asked, even more confused now, as they watched a bright cloud of magic sweep around them again. This time though, the clock tower reappeared, then Granny's, and everything on Main Street. The magic continued to rebuild the town with the Sheriff's station, the school, and the Toll bridge. Storybrooke was back.

"They're back," Circe observed, as Cronus' palace reappeared. It was as if they had never been gone, but she knew better. She had a feeling whatever had happened was going to have serious ramifications; to what extent, she did not know.

"Madam Circe...something is very different…" Channing called, as she saw what he was looking at. In her very long life, she had seen many things and not much surprised her anymore. But this did.

"By the Gods...what have they done?"

~*~

They all reappeared in the ballroom, including Zelena, and looked around in a bit of confusion.

"We're back…" Persephone realized, as she looked up at her husband and they stared at each other.

"Your ruined everything for me...all of you, but especially you, Regina!" Zelena cried, but Hades was quick and ripped her necklace, the source of her power, away.

"No!" she cried, as Rumple turned her into a porcelain statue and then shattered her to pieces, shocking them all.

"She's proved she's much too dangerous to be kept alive," he said simply and no one could really argue with that. Persephone and Hades' eyes met again.

"Do you…" she started to say.

"Remember both lives?" Hades asked, finishing her sentence.

"Yes…" he confessed.

"Me too," she said.

"Dad?" Emma called, as she parted from hugging her son and Neal. David smiled and pulled her into a tight hug.

"You saved us again, Emma," he said, as he cradled her head. A tear slipped down her cheek.

"I'm just sorry that you and Mom lost that other life. A lot of it was pretty good," she said.

"But I don't think we did…" David said, as he recalled both lives.

"I remember both lives," he added.

"Really?" Emma asked. He nodded.

"And that's not all that has changed, apparently," James said, as he stepped aside, revealing that both Ruth and Serafina had come back with them.

"You're...you're alive," David exclaimed, as they hugged their boys.

"That's not all that's different, because we have bigger problems," Regina interjected, as David noticed that Snow had been very quiet.

"Snow?" he asked, as she turned to him and his eyes widened. Her belly was swelled round with child and she was definitely much further along than she had been before Zelena's spell.

"How...how is this possible?" she asked, as David took her in his arms and Artemis put her hands to Snow's belly, just as she had a contraction.

"Okay...time to get to hospital. Your water could break any minute," Artemis replied.

"We messed with time...it must have had adverse consequences," Hades surmised, as he saw Cronus and many others staring out the window and he looked to see what they were looking at. And his eyes widened in disbelief.

"What the hell…" Eli uttered, as he saw what he was seeing.

"Daddy...Papa Hades...you're coming, right?" Snow asked.

"Of course sweet pea," Eli assured, as he came beside the wheelchair that Artemis had summoned for her.

"What were you looking at?" Persephone asked irritably.

"You have to see that for yourself, but there'll be time for that later. Let's get this grand baby born," Hades replied and then realized what he had just said. But Snow smiled gently at him and squeezed his hand.

"I remember both lives," she said, as she looked at Eli and Hades.

"I have three parents, just like David," she told them, just another contraction hit. It was clear they had a lot to discuss, but this family was clearly still retaining the bonds they had built during Zelena's spell. But her spell had also created perhaps even more complications and unseen side effects; that of which they were only beginning to discover. But first, their family was about to grow by one more member.

[shanastoryteller]

*shyly whispers* do u think u could do another Greek Mythology story~

“Your tapestries are sofine,” the merchant says in wonder, “that you must be blessed by the goddessAthena.”

Arachne tosses herhead, braided hair falling over her shoulder like an obsidian waterfall,“What’s Athena got to do with it? My hands wove these, not hers.”

The merchant blanchesand looks to the sky, as if expecting Zeus himself to smite them for blasphemy.Personally, she thinks the king of the gods has better thing to do with histime. “Ah,” he says weakly, “I suppose.”

He pays her for herwares and she leaves, almost immediately bumping into a hunched old woman withgrey eyes. “Do you not owe Athena thanks for your talent?” she croaks, gnarledhands curled over a cane.

Arachne is not stupid,but she is foolish. They will tell tales of it. She looks into those grey eyesand declares, “Athena should thank me,since my talents earn her so much praise.”

She pushes past her andkeeps walking, ignoring the goddess in humans skin as she disappears into thecrowd.

They will tell tales ofher hubris. They will all be true.

~

The next day she bumpsinto the same old woman at the market. Everything goes downhill from there.

“Know your place,mortal,” Athena says, grey eyes narrowed. There is a crowd around them, andArachne could save herself, could walk away unscathed, and all she has to do issay her weaving is inferior to that of a goddess.

She will not lie.

“I do,” she sayscoolly, “and in this matter, it is above you.”

She is not honest as avirtue, but as a vice.

Athena challengers herto a weaving contest. She accepts.

~

Gods are not so hard tofind, if you know where to look.

“It’s a volcano,” thebaker repeats, looking down at her coins, as if he feels guilty for takingmoney from someone who’s clearly not all there.

She grabs her bag ofsweet breads and adds it to her pack before swinging it over her shoulders,“Yes, I know. Half a day’s walk, you said?”

“A volcano,” he insists, as if she did not hear him perfectly well thefirst dozen times.

“Thank you for yourhelp,” she says. He’s shaking his head at her, but she knows what she’s doing.

She walks. She growshungry, but does not touch the bread she paid for, and walks some more. Thesun’s begun to set by the time she makes it to the base of the volcano. It’stall, impossibly large, and for a moment the promise of defeat threatens tooverwhelm her.

But Arachne does notbelieve in defeat, in loss. They will tell tales of her hubris. Those taleswill be true.

She ties a scarf aroundher braids then hikes her skirt up and ties the material so it falls only toher thighs. She fits work roughened hands into the divots of cooled magma andbegins her slow ascent.

~

The muscles in her legsand arms shake, and her hunger pains are almost as distracting. Her once whitedress is dirt smeared and torn and sweat makes her itch as it covers her bodyand drips down her back.

“What are you doing?”

Arachne turns her headand bites back a scream, looking into one giant eye. The cyclops holds easilyto the volcano’s edges, even though her hands are torn and bleeding. Sheswallows and says, “I heard you like honeyed bread. Is it true?”

The creature tilts hishead to the side, baring his long fanged teeth at her. She thinks he might besmiling. “You’ve been climbing for hours. What do you want?”

“Is it true?” sherepeats, refusing to flinch.

“Yes,” he says, lookingat her the same way the baker had, “it’s true.”

“There’s some sweetbread in my pack, baked this morning,” she says, “it should still be soft.”

His hands are bigenough and strong enough that it could probably squeeze her head like a grape. Insteadhe gently undoes her pack and reaches inside. The honey buns look comicallysmall in his large hands, and he swallows half of them in one bite. He lickshis fingers clean when he’s done, and his smile is just as terrifying thesecond time around. “I am Brontes. Why are you climbing my master’s volcano?”

“I’m the weaverArachne,” she takes a deep breath, “I need your master’s help.”

~

They tell tales ofHephaestus’s ugliness.

They are not true.

He’s got a broad,angular face and short brown hair. His eyes are like amber set into his face,and his arms are huge, and he’s rippling muscle from the waist up. He has legsonly to his knees. From there down his legs are bronze gears and golden wire,replacements for the legs destroyed when Hera threw him from Mount Olympus.

“Had your look, girl?”he asks, voice rough like he’s always a moment away from breaking into acoughing fit.

“Yes,” she says, anddoesn’t turn away, keeps looking.

His lips quirk up atthe corners, so it was the right move. The heat is even more oppressive insidethe volcano, and all around him cyclopses work, forging oddly shaped metal thatshe can’t hope to understand. “You’ve gone to an awful lot of trouble to find me,girl. What do you want?”

She slides her pack offher shoulders and holds it out to the god, “I have a gift for your wife. I havewoven her a cloak.”

He raises an eyebrowand doesn’t reach for the bag, “You believe something made with mortal handscould be worthy of the goddess of beauty?”

They will tell tales ofher hubris.

“Yes.”

They will all be true.

With a gust of wind theoppressive heat of the volcano is swept away, leaving her chilled. In its placestands a woman – more than a woman. Aphrodite has skin like the copper of herhusband’s machines and hair dark and thick and long. Her eyes are deepest,richest brown, piercing in their intelligence. People don’t tell tales ofAphrodite’s cleverness. That is because people are stupid.

“Let’s see it then,”she says, reaching inside the pack and pulling the cloak from its depths.

It unrolls beautifully.It’s made from the finest silks, and it shimmers in the light from the forges.The hem of the cloak is sea foam, speaking of Aphrodite’s beginning, and upalong the cloak is intricate patterns it tells of her life, of her marriage andher worshippers and escapades, all with the detail of the most experiencedartist and the reverence of her most devoted followers.

Her lips part insurprise and she slides it on, twirling like a child. “Gorgeous,” Hephaestussays, though Arachne knows he does not speak of the cloak. She doesn’t takeoffense.

The goddess smiles andArachne’s heart pounds in her chest. She does her best to ignore it – Aphroditeis the goddess of love, after all. It is only expected. “Very well,” thegoddess says, “you have my attention.”

Arachne swallows.Aphrodite’s attention is a heavy thing. “I have offended Athena,” she says,“She has challenged me to a weaving contest.”

Their faces somber.Hephaestus rubs the edge of a sleeve between his fingers and says, “Athena willlose such a contest, if judged fairly. She does not take loss well.”

“I know,” she says,“you are friendly with Hades, are you not?”

There are no tales oftheir friendship. But she’s staking her life on its existence, because whywouldn’t it exist – both of them even tempered, both shunned by Olympus, bothhappily married.

Gods hate being made tofeel lesser. It is why they say Persephone was kidnapped, why they sayAphrodite cheats with Ares. It is why Athena will crush her when Arachne winsthe weaving contest.

“Clever girl,” Hephaestussays, smiling.

Aphrodite stares at herreflection in a convenient piece of polished silver. Arachne assumes Hephaestusleft if lying there for that express purpose. “Very well!” the goddess says,not looking at her, “when Athena sends you to the underworld, we will entrenchupon our uncle for your release.” She turns on her heel and points a finger ather. Arachne blushes for no reason she can think of. “In return, you will weaveme a gown, one equal to my own beauty.”

A gown as exquisite asthe goddess of beauty. An impossible task.

They will tell tales ofher hubris.

“I accept.”

They will all be true.

~

The contest goes asexpected. Athena’s tapestry is lovely, but Arachne’s is lovelier.

The goddess’s face goesred in rage, and her grey eyes narrow. Arachne stands tall, ready to accept thedeath blow coming for her.

The blow comes.

Death does not.

~

She is an insect. Even if she can make it back to Hephaestus’svolcano, even if they can help her, they will not know it is her. She has nohope left, no course of action, she should just give up. But –

She doesn’t believe indefeat, in loss.

It was a terribly longjourney on foot, that first time. It is even longer this time, although now shehas eight legs instead of two. She makes it to the volcano, and creeps inbetween crevices, until she finds out a hollowed room, one with a sliver ofsunlight and plenty of bugs to keep her fed.

Athena’s cruel joke ofallowing her to weave will be her downfall. Her silk comes out a golden yellowcolor – it will look exquisite against Aphrodite’s copper skin.

~

It takes seven yearsfor her to complete it. She hasn’t left this room in the volcano in all thattime, and as soon as it’s done she scurries out back toward the village. She’sa large insect, but not that large.

She arrives just as thesun begins to rise, and leaves before the first rays have even touched theearth, her prize tied to her back with her own silk.

Arachne doesn’t returnto her room. Instead she goes to the more popular parts of the volcano, hurriesand runs around terrifying stomping feet until she finds who she’s looking forand scurries up his leg and onto his shoulder.

“Huh,” Brontes looksonto his shoulder and blinks. “What on earth are you?”

She cautiously skittersdown his arm, waiting. He bends closer and lightly touches her back. “Is – is thata piece of a honey bun?”

She looks up at him,waiting. It’s her only chance, if he doesn’t remember, if he doesn’t understand–

His face slowly fills witha cautious kind of wonder. “Arachne?”  Shejumps in place, being unable to nod, and Brontes cautiously cradles her in hismassive hands, “We must find the Master immediately!”

She jumps down, landingin front of him and running forward. “Wait!” he calls, and she makes sure he’s runningafter her before skittering back to her corner of the cave. It’s almost toosmall for him to enter but he squeezes inside and breathes, “Oh.” He stares forseveral moments, and Arachne climbs her web and waits. Brontes shakes himselfout of his reverie and uses his powerful wings to bellow, “MISTRESS APHRODITE!”

There’s that samebreeze and she’s in the crevice with them, “What was so important, Brontes,that you had to yell?”

Arachne sees the exactmoment that the goddess sees the gown, golden yellow and glimmering, madeentirely of spider silk. “Beautiful,” she says, reaching out a hand to brushdown the bodice. Her head then snaps up, “Brontes, where’s Arachne?”

She warms at that, thatAphrodite knew it was her weaving even though she hasn’t been seen in sevenyears.

They’ve told tales ofher hubris.

They are all true.

Brontes points at theweb, and Aphrodite steps over and holds out her hands. Arachne crawls onto thegoddess’s palms. “Athena is more powerful than I am, I cannot undo her work,”she says, “but I know someone who can.”

Then they are in frontof a river. A handsome young man stands there waiting with a boat. “GoddessAphrodite,” he says, “we weren’t expecting you.”

“Thanatos,” shereturns, “I need to see Persephone.”

The man’s face stayscool, and for a moment Arachne fears they will be refused and she will be stuckin this form forever. Then he smiles and says, “My lady is of course availablefor her favored niece.” He holds out a hand to help her onto the boat, “Pleasecome with me.”

~

Arachne weaves a dressfor Hades’s wife as a thank you, and returns to her volcano.

“I can take yousomewhere else,” Aphrodite says, “you don’t have to hide here.”

Arachne pauses at herloom. She has lived in this volcano for seven years. It’s her home. “Would youlike me to leave?” she asks instead.

Aphrodite scoffs, “Ofcourse not! How could I dress myself without you here?” She’s wearing thespider silk dress Arachne spun for her, and she’s working on another for thegoddess now. Aphrodite runs a gentle finger down Arachne’s cheek and for amoment she forgets to breathe. “You are the finest weaver to ever exist.”

She looks up at thegoddess, “Then as the god of crafts and goddess of beautiful things, where elsewould I belong besides with you and Hephaestus?”

To declare your companyequal to that of gods is the height of arrogance and blasphemy.

They tell tales of herhubris.

“An excellent point,”Aphrodite murmurs, and tucks a stray braid behind Arachne’s ear.

They are all true.

gods and monsters series part iii

[soporificsoap]

The Bard

This story was written for an art appreciation class. We were told to choose a painting and do two separate papers on it: one analytical and the other creative. I rather enjoyed both. Plus wandering a museum in my free time became one of my favorite pastimes from then on.

Short story based on the painting “The Bard” by Richard Westall (as shown above)

I, my name being unimportant, am an aimless wanderer. No doubt, I will be flying upon the breeze come the morrow. I roam these lands, with no particular goal other than to keep my heart beating and my mind occupied. I hop from town, to village, to city, taking odd jobs in exchange for coin to fulfill my needs. I frequent taverns, inns, and scattered farms, wanting for nothing more than food, wine, and the occasional company of a maid. It is shameless, I know. It seems merciful Zeus saw fit to give me a restless soul, with no final destination in mind. I do, however, find on my campaign some very diverting tales. Tales of Gods, Goddesses, Titans, Oracles, and heroes. You say you have heard your fill of amusing tales? Then, sir, allow me to bend your ear with a tale of another kind. Of all the stories that I have gathered beneath my belt, there is but one I feel is worth conveying to you, sir. It is a short but meaningful tale that I find myself divulging within to ascertain its inner meaning to this very day. 

You have, I’d wager, seen and probably heard a Bard singing his epic poems and reciting mournful sonnets within some happy tavern. I never once thought much of these hiking singers, and only considered becoming one once. That instance is another drama of its own. Here’s a short recounting, since you do not care for stories of this nature: There was a maiden, whose favor I sought. She, however, was solely interested in the, I admit, entrancing carols of the warbling poet. I, having taken my fair share (if not more so) of the local wines, put on quite a show for this young girl. It involved my taking up the harp and dancing a clumsy jig atop a table. The only outcome was to have her scorn and chastise me for the noise and trouble I caused. I went to my rented room that night, without a companion and with not a single shred of dignity to call my own. That escapade has forever put me off the very thought of shedding my travelers cloak in exchange for a lyre and a ready pen and scroll.

Let us return to my telling. They, the wandering vocalist, with the same restless spirit bestowed on them by the very Gods, are akin to me. The only deviation of our beings is their obsession with the story; the delineation of the histories of foes and heroes alike. My story begins the same as any other I could pull from my memory: I was taking bread and wine at a tavern in a small town near the city of Thebes. I was told by some travelers with whom I had been conversing with for some time that the best story teller in all the land was employed to this tavern. A bit of useless information, as there was wine and music enough for my tastes and I required little else. When the time came for him to enchant the crowd, I paid no attention, looking up a few times to ridicule his trade.

The next morning, I recalled almost nothing of the night prior, as is traditionally a sign of too much drink. Yet, I did have in my mind a strong remembrance of this man, this Bard. I could remember his face in extreme detail and his mannerisms were almost second nature to me. His white flowing hair, long beard and sharp features still lingered within my mind’s eye. His name was the only detail I had neglected to recollect. I thought it only spoiled wine that caused this bizarre occurrence and cursed the tavern under my breath. I pushed him from my thoughts and continued on my way across this green Earth.

A few weeks passed from that night with hardly a thought of the man. I was headed south, unaware of my exact location and certain that my night would be spent in a field as there was no sign of civilization in either direction over the hilly landscape. In the sky that day, there loomed some dark clouds and thunder rumbled near and far across the hills. Seems Boreas and his brothers were in a particularly cantankerous mood this day. I prepared to walk straight through, as I saw no suitable shelter nearby. As I reached the top a hill, I heard some indiscernible ruckus. There, in the valley between two steep hills, two giants quarreling, a smaller and a larger one. I have had brief dealings with giants in the past, and from experience know the best way to handle their kind, is to not. I retreated a few feet back and watched as they continued to bellow and scream. The noises from these two beasts were unlike anything I have ever heard!

I could not make out the enraged words. However, each phrase seemed to inflame even more violence. The greater of the two crossed some line that tipped the anger of the other past the point of mere words. A colossal blow was struck that sent the smaller of the giants flying across the field. The rain suddenly became the least of my worries as the winded assailant got to his feet and charged his enemy. As their bodies made contact, a thunderous spark of lightning struck nearby and set fire to the brush. The field was completely ablaze in mere minutes. The sight of these two behemoths, silhouetted by the roaring fire, was a sight more frightening and glorious than can be described with words. I can tell you that the flames gave off an eerie light that illuminated the immediate area but still further darkened the sky and the scenery in the distance.

The storm was just above me and thundering fiercely. No rain had touched the ground yet. I stared in amazement at the events unfolding around me, and as I looked behind me, I saw to my amazement; the very same man embedded in my brain. The Bard! I did not hear his approach, but how could I with this loud storm making its way ever closer? I recognized him immediately, but what I saw in his eyes will be forever burned within me. I saw, not only in his eyes, but in his entire body, a passion and strength that I thought impossible within any mortal man. His eyes were fixed upon the scene below. His hand was clenched tight into a fist as he focused his glare on the battling entities below, the other rested on the golden harp he carried. His hair was whipping wildly in the intense wind. 

The combatants were approaching the end; the final blow was on its way. It was the larger of the warriors who landed it, knocking the smaller one, once again, onto his back. Three things happened simultaneously; the fallen combatant fell, never to rise again, the earth shook with the very force of his weight, and the musician, impassioned by the finale, raised his clenched fist above his head with his fingers strained into a claw. He was picturesquely illuminated by the fierce fire while the scenery was dark and hazy behind. It looked as though he was standing on a platform of the same dark clouds that hovered above us. His hand brutally clenched the harp, while his other hand contorted in the air, twitched and scratched at the sky. It was if he was beckoning to Olympus itself to take the soul of this defeated warrior to Hades, the final resting place of all souls.

The victor triumphantly lumbered over the hills out of sight. The man, panting from his efforts, lifted his prized instrument with surprising strength and wandered into the dark. The very moment he disappeared from my sight, the clouds released their heavy load of rain, effectively extinguishing the smoldering landscape. I stood there, trying to wake myself from this dream, drenched in rain. The scorched field was the only proof that I had not conjured the fight or the man in some temporary madness.

I did end up sleeping under the open sky that night, but I hardly closed my eyes. All I could think was why would he put himself so close to danger? Just before dawn, I had an epiphany; for his songs! He risked his well-being to acquire the moments for his collection. A collection that he shares, openly and beautifully with the people he encounters and others of his profession to share in their own way.

These men mean something entirely different to me now. They are the timeless vessels in which we place our records, they alone as a whole, carry the heavy burden of bearing, often witnessing first-hand, and conveying the legends and sagas of those worthy of their song. Since that fateful day, whenever I go to a new town, village, or city, I seek them out to fill myself with their stories. Now, you may think, sir, that this is a frivolous waste of time, and you, sire, may think this is the mindless ramblings of a tavern dweller, but you may never see the world in the same fashion, as through the eyes of The Bard.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, friend, the local minstrel is about to recite my favorite limerick; “The Giants in the Fiery Brush.”