The Stone Cell

“You don’t know what you’re doing.” The man fixed piercing blue eyes on the woman. She wiped sweaty ginger hair off her neck. There were grease stains across her lovely white dress and her skin had taken on a sickly hue after being locked away from sunlight for so long. She sat on a stool, hands in her lap and looking quite docile to whomever saw her. The man knew though, he knew what she was.

She was beautiful, perhaps as beautiful as Medusa had once been, although he’d never say it out loud. He had hoped that she would grow old and ugly after so many years of imprisonment. It had been many years since anybody had set their sights on her and he was dismayed to find her in the same state, if only a little dirtier, than he left her over five thousand years ago.

She spread her arms open wide, almost like she wanted a hug.

“Oh Zeus.” Her voice was soft, lilting. It made him want to unlock the gates and enchantments so he could free her as she so deserved. Her magic voice cast him in a fuzzy haze. Zeus shook his head, trying to break the spell her words put over him.

“Stop that,” he ordered. Zeus stood and began pacing in the small cell. His expensive suit was becoming uncomfortably warm in the prison; beads of sweat were forming on his immaculate forehead.

“I apologize.” The woman cast her eyes downward and let out of a sigh of breath. “But you know as well as anybody that I cannot stop what is already in motion. I am no tempter of Fate, nobody is daft enough to challenge those insufferable demons.”

Zeus knew she was speaking the truth, but he didn’t trust her all the same. The woman leaned forward, elbows resting on her silk covered knees. Her eyes followed Zeus.

“So young you’ve become… have you taken the position of, what is it, CRO of that large company?”

“CEO,” Zeus muttered absently. He stiffened. She wasn’t supposed to know anything of the outside, of anywhere except her stoney prison. “Wait, how did you-

“Oh silly Zeus, the ignorant boy he’s always been. I have many, many friends. The flies, the spiders. Arachne has been such a dear to me in my years of solitude. It doesn’t matter though, she’s a coward. She always was. Oh don’t look at me like that, I’ll never escape, don’t worry that pretty head of yours.”

Zeus pinched the bridge of his nose. He had more pressing issues to think about than the simple annoyances this harlot presented. She had started something that she didn’t understand and now he couldn’t control it.

“This girl,” he spit at her, “this child isn’t even aware. You’ve thrust her into a dangerous world she doesn’t even know about. And now you tell me you can’t do anything about it? You have no idea of the forces you’re dealing with, woman!”

She wiped spit off her cheek with a delicate finger before standing. Golden chains bound to her feet prevented her from walking more than even a step. She shook as though she’d not stood in her five thousand years of captivity. Despite her cruel thinness, greyish skin and quivering legs, she looked quite fierce and as though she’d finally lost a handle on her temper.

“I don’t know what I’m dealing with? I should say the opposite, dear Zeus. I know what I’m doing exactly. The child, the journey, the theft, all of this, it’s been a millenium in the making and if I didn’t know what I was doing then I wouldn’t have succeeded! you’re always so gullible. You believed me right away when I told you it was my husband that tried to poison you-

“And now poor Lycaon lives in exile, as a half wolf and shunned by the rest of the gods,” Zeus snarled back.

“That was your doing, none of mine.” She sat back down on her stool, smiling with teeth that had become black and rotten over the years. It was the only part of her that hadn’t retained it’s original allure. Zeus took a deep breath, it rattling through his chest and expelling with a loud sigh. He’d forgotten how frustrating Lycaon’s wife could be. He laced his hands together and sat on the stool opposite the woman.

“Nonakris. I’m putting my pride aside, despite advice from my wife and the others, to ask for you help in dealing with this.”

“Really?” Nonakris crossed her legs. “You disobeyed Hera? Is that working? Nobody’s been transformed into a peacock I trust? Don’t tell me you and Poseidon have gone to blows over your differing opinions.”

“My affairs are none of your concern. Listen to me. I’m prepared to broker you a deal. Tell me how to stop this divination, this repercussion of your bad actions, and I can lighten your sentence.”

Nonakris, previously unintrigued with Zeus’s visit snapped to full attention. She’d been sitting in the same position on the same stool for thousands of years. Anything to shave off years of monotony and slow insanity of murderous, callous thoughts. Nothing had ever sounded so good.

“Zeus please,” Nonakris pleaded. “Please, I have nothing more to tell you.”

“Who is she? Where is she? What will she face, how can I protect her, what can I do to keep her out of our world?” He accentuated each word with a stomp of his loafer encased foot. A small cloud of dirt rose from the disgusting floor as he did.

“I don’t know, I really, truly don’t know. I made the prophecy before Lycaon was found innocent, years after the wolf spirit you gave him hardened into a sharp murderer. This is years in the making, but it’s out of my hands. I have nothing to tell you. I can only be sure the subject is a girl; I would never have let an ignorant boychild take hold of this plan. She is destined to take control. There is nothing you can do.”

“Nothing I can do.” Zeus scoffed at the idea. He was stubborn as an ox, and perhaps as thick as one when it came to reason and limitation. At this he lost all thinning patience, and stood. Lightning seemed to illuminate his irises, which were already the color of hail.

“You mock my abilities. You should have learned not to the first time we came to a dispute.” He stood and turned away from her. “You’ve been most unhelpful Nonakris. Goodbye.”

“NO!” Nonakris leapt to her feet and reached desperately for his suittail. Her binds wrenched her back though, and she was left sobbing pathetically on the revolting ground. Dirt scuffed her skin, stained her soiled silken dress. Tears ran a path down her cheeks. “Please,” she cried. “Please don’t make me stay, don’t make me stay when they come, Zeus please!”

Zeus glanced back at her, then looked away. He straightened his tie before vanishing from the sealed stone cell, leaving Nonakris alone in her misery.

Zeus, being the god of sky and heavens, found it rather easy to alter into the form of an eagle. He could no longer hear Nonakris, but the echoes of her screams tumbled through his head. If he could help it, he would not be visiting the stone cell again any time soon.

Nonakris had not been as big of help as he’d hoped. She was insufferable, perhaps more than she had been so long ago in Ancient Greece.

When he arrived home, his wife was waiting.

Hera had adopted the modern look as well when they moved to a large house in Hollywood. It was only natural for the gods to integrate into modern society: it was what kept them alive when no mortal believed in their existence. As far as any stranger in the neighborhood was concerned, the mansion at the end of the street was owned by Greek immigrants Mr. Taren Vasiliás and his wife Leya.

Hera was sitting in the foyer, sipping a glass full of some pink concoction. Emeralds glinted on her chest, complimenting her fair skin and green eyes. Chic blonde hair was immaculately styled across her neck. She wore black slacks and a shirt in mottled shades of blue and green. She rose immediately when Zeus entered the house, again in human form. Some of her pink drink splashed onto the carpet, but she didn’t take notice.

“Watch where you swing that poison,”  Zeus barked, thoroughly annoyed with the fruitlessness of the day. Hera placed the glass on the table and swept her already neat hair back.

“What did you discover?” she asked briskly, and walked closer. Her heels clicked on the cold tile floor. Zeus loosened his tie. He did not stop to kiss his wife but instead avoided her coming embrace and collapsed into an easy chair.

“Nothing. Nonakris is as useless as always.”

“How-how is she?” Hera looked nervous for the answer. Her voice shook. She’d never been comfortable with Nonakris’s crimes. Wives turning murderous was no rare occurrence in Greece, but Nonakris had evaded confession and capture for many years after. When Hera and her siblings and children did eventually manage to detain her, she’d already cast the spell that would end the gods permanently.

Hera had never worried much about the prophecy. It was always so far away. But now it had come, and it would end her.

“She’s fine. She’s trapped. She won’t help.” Zeus massaged his temples. “I don’t know what to do. Can you imagine the outcry, a teenage girl going missing in this time of peril? If Apollo has told me the correct details, and who knows with that boy, the mortals will be greatly affected. They’ll be disrought. And the rest of the gods? None of us will be safe. I fear for the child’s safety as well - discovering this other universe, this world of myth and magic, at any age older than three. It’s dangerous.”

Hera patted Zeus’s shoulder awkwardly. “She shouldn’t be alone. You must find her a suitable accomplice, one that knows us and can keep her from making the mistakes Nonakris so wants her to make.”

“Who though? Do you honestly trust any of the gods we still have contact with?”

Hera thought for a second. It was true, most trustable gods had gone their separate ways and lived in unimaginable places. She had no way to speak to any of them, not since they had created their oath to disregard their once unmeasurable power. They, in exception of Zeus, had vowed to never use magic. Suddenly, an idea struck her.

“Surely you’ve thought of contacting minor deities? Eris perhaps? They never gave up their powers.”

The idea burrowed into Zeus’s mind, sparking inspiration. He leapt up from his easy chair, startling Hera. She gave a little shout of surprise and stepped backwards.

“Goodness, that’s it! I’m so glad I thought of it!”

Hera bristled. His idea? She supposed that Zeus, ancient as he was, was still arrogant. Zeus kissed her on the cheek.

“Aethor, of course Aethor! He’s been off the radar so long, he never took the vow, he knows everything of our world! It’s perfect, my dear.” Zeus looked positively ecstatic. He blushed a happy red and was so overwhelmed that he picked Hera up and spun her around.

“Oh, oh! Put me down, put me down!” she yelled, panicked and kicking wildly against his chest. He set her down jovially on the the white tile floor, where she teetered unbalanced in her heels. Zeus rushed out of the foyer and disappeared upstairs. Annoyed, Hera followed. She found him rifling through an old book in his study, although panting slightly at his dash away.

“My my, not quite as young and fit as you was back in BC. Perhaps we should buy a gym membership dear,” he chuckled while skimming pages. Within a matter of seconds, Zeus had gone from dismal to hopeful. Sun had broken through the previously dark, menacing clouds and now bathed the study in sunlight. Zeus looked up from the book momentarily to grin into the light then turned back to it.

“Lookit, he knows we’re talking about him.”

“Who knows?” Hera sighed. Although she was used to Zeus’s bumbling idiocy and secrecy, she couldn’t stand when he wouldn’t tell her something. And now he was patronizing. Hera tapped her foot impatiently. She did not think she could take one more second of being in the dark for his plan - this whole issue affected her also. “Tell me, what on earth are you talking about?”

“Aethor.” Zeus found the page he was looking for. “Of course Aethor. He’s perfect, isn’t he perfect Hera?”

Hera focused down on the dusty page. The book was large, leatherbound, how old she could hardly remember. It was titled Primordial Deities: a full guide and was at least eight hundred pages thick. Zeus’s tan index finger pointed to a little sidebar and paragraph.

Aethor (Aither) is known as the personification of pure air and light. He is the older, male counterpart to Eos (covered on page 362) and has no greek cult or temples devoted. He is married to his elder sister Hemera and they have several children. Aethor was ultimately replaced by Helios, then Eos and finally Apollo. He is a lesser known god  and it is unlikely that the ancients worshipped him for very long. Continue to page 729 for more information on sun deities and gods.

Hera raised an eyebrow at her husband. She didn’t understand where he was going.

“Perfect? Does he still exist? Did he ever exist? I certainly don’t remember any Aethor in Olympus, much less in Greece.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t, you barely spoke to anyone unless they were one of my dalliances or our children.”

Hera chose to ignore mention of his affairs.

“Who the hell was Aethor, Zeus? How can he help us?”

“It’s exactly like I talked about. He will provide support. Think about it Hera, Aethor spent decades in the heavens, watching, listening. Even after he was cast aside by my son, he never completely dissipated. I know. He’s still there, he didn’t partake in our vow, he can guide the girl through whatever it is she will face.”

“Aethor.” Hera rolled the name around on her tongue. It felt foreign. She couldn’t draw any memory of him. Wondering if Zeus had finally lost his mind after all these years, she took a seat on the chair beside his desk. She was quiet a minute, trying to decide on what to say.

“You’re certain this old,” she shook her head searching for the right word, “this old ‘sun god’ will be able to help what is to be certain death for all of us?”

Zeus looked at his wife with bright excited eyes. He finally felt as though something good had come out of his horrifying visit to Nonakris. “Yes dear, yes I’m quite certain.”

Author's Note

please PLEASE tell me if certain parts are difficult to understand, have grammar issues, etc.