Greek

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. It was one of many rooms in House Olympus: Zeus’ mansion. It was situated atop the highest peak in the land, surpassing even Poseidon's lighthouse. While she assumed most housed his servants and offspring, this room was utterly bizarre.

Arianna had snuck away from the white halls of House Olympus to find herself in that room. She spent her entire childhood counting the columns that lined the first floor of the mansion from her home below. Even as a child she understood the first floor was only a piece of the mansion’s splendor, more of a museum than anything else.

Pictures of the eight previous reincarnations of Zeus hung from the walls, chronicling their achievements before being reborn. The current Zeus had been around since Arianna’s grandmother was a girl, making him the oldest living reincarnate in the pantheon’s history.

Arianna’s grandmother had always spoken glowingly of Zeus, unlike her daughter. Arianna’s mother kissed the ground the gods walked on, but cursed their names in the privacy of her own home. Arianna never understood why, nor would she get to ask as her grandmother unveiled her daughter’s secret hatred to the gods themselves. Arianna never saw her mother again after she was taken.

Years later, Arianna, on the cusp of womanhood, was invited to House Olympus. “Two generations in the same line, chosen by the same god, this might be a first. Oh the honor…” her grandmother couldn’t have been prouder.

The same herald who spoke the news inked the meander pattern on Arianna's left ankle and a lightning bolt on her right, matching her grandmother’s. The symbols meant they were god-touched: mortals would envy them and the other gods weren’t allowed to claim them, lest they cross Zeus.

That evening, Arianna was escorted up the mountain trail and ushered into the torch lit foyer of House Olympus. She wore a golden trimmed toga, the same Zeus provided for her grandmother many years ago.

The servants of the house, all with the same ink but around their wrists, greeted her as “Honorary Maiden.” Honorary Maidens were not to be confused with the Ayioi women who bore the gods’ children. “An Honorary Maiden’s duty is less sacred, but no less important,” her grandmother taught her.

Arianna flinched as the servants surrounded her. They snatched off her sandals and brushed her feet before giving her a new pair. She was then rushed up a spiraling metal staircase before she could see any of the lower four, having been told earlier she’d meet Zeus on the fifth.

The floors she passed were completely dark, but as she ascended, a single white light from above grew brighter and brighter. At the top of the staircase, she saw the source.

“What is this shining thing?” Arianna asked.

There was a small glass orb embedded in the ceiling that gave off a piercing white light. The ceiling itself was higher than Arianna could fathom; she imagined standing on the shoulders of two men and it still being out of reach.

“Quiet. Only concern yourself with the master,” whispered a man servant, his voice shaky.

The hallway floor wasn’t made of clay, but of marble tile. The stones were finely cut and arranged in pairs of black and white. Arianna didn’t know a limestone could be used in such a way.

Every couple of steps the orb ahead of her would illuminate and the one behind her would darken. There was a single door at the end of the hall, one much more average than the grandiose mansion would have suggested. It was no bigger than the door to her home, “Zeus must have to duck to get into his own room,” she thought.

Halfway down the hallway, the servants stopped dead in their tracks, their hands outstretched toward the last door.

“Do not fear, Honorary Maiden. Do not keep Zeus waiting.”

Arianna's grandmother couldn’t explain to her how Zeus went about choosing mortals. In fact, no one had seen Zeus walk the streets since before Arianna was born. She liked the idea that his divine nature could sense hers. That it knew she wasn’t just special in the way that all of the pantheon’s servants were, but that she was special like her grandmother.

A hair away from the door, Arianna clutched herself. Above her head were skinny metal bars that breathed cool air into the hallway; she had never felt such a sensation indoors. The entire floor made her existence in the village seem primitive, a thing of the past.

Imagining her grandmother’s hand on her back, Arianna opened the door.

Much like the hallway, Zeus’ bedroom was as grand to Arianna as it was strange. It was at least twice as spacious as any room she’d ever been in. There was a giant four-poster bed with a canopy so finely woven that it made her toga appear meager.

Beneath her wasn’t some shaggy rug most Greeks owned, but a softer, more refined material that covered the entire floor.

Rows of little glass candles sat neatly beside each other as they hung from a thick ceiling chain.

On that very ceiling was a mural of a great orange bridge. It wasn’t wood connected by string across a short distance, but a metallic structure erected right out of the sea that seemed to link two lands.

“Truly, only Hephaestus could have designed such a thing,” Arianna whispered.

Despite the furnishings, Arianna found the room devoid of life. She felt as though her words would reverberate back at her if she did more than whisper. Most of all, she felt completely alone in that sophisticated room.

“It is rude to speak another god’s name before Zeus.”

Arianna nearly jumped out of her sandals.

A woman covered in black from head to toe shuffled forth from the other side of the bed. The woman lacked presence, as if she’d disperse into nothingness if Arianna ran a hand through her.

“What manner of spirit are you? Where is Zeus?” Arianna asked the woman.

“I am no spirit, Honorary Maiden. I am but a servant of Zeus: God of Kings and Princes; Lord of Lightning; Master of the Eagle and the Bull; Reaper of the Oak and the Olive Trees.”

Arianna’s grandmother recited Zeus’ titles in that same order every night, for as long as Arianna could remember. She had described Zeus as a tall, beautiful, statuesque man with a thunderous voice. His aura was so powerful that it could only be contained in structures built by and for gods, hence why gods walked amongst mortals sparingly.

“Come closer. Meet Zeus.”

As Arianna rounded the corner of Zeus’ bed, the ghastly woman grabbed Arianna and yanked the curtain back.

Arianna would’ve screamed if the woman's touch hadn’t compelled her not to. Every image Arianna ever conceived of Zeus, whether from word of mouth or her own imagination, shattered into millions of pieces.

“This is—”

The woman in black beckoned her quiet with a sharp twist of Arianna’s wrist.

Zeus’ was a withered autumn tree, purely skin and bones. He was so emaciated that Arianna couldn’t picture him sitting up, more less walking or talking. He was completely bald, the crown of his head a shriveled prune.

Arianna covered her nose. She didn’t know how she had only just then detected the stench of death, from then on it would haunt her nostrils.

There was a small, foggy mask that covered Zeus’ mouth and nose. His eyes, the eyes his followers boasted surpassed the eagle’s, were beady and hollow.

“Miss, what am I supposed to do?”

“Your duty, Honorary Maiden. Please your god.”

“Please,” Arianna pondered. The young woman possessed no skills or talents that she thought could entertain a god, nor did Zeus seem to be in the mood for entertainment.

If she were in his condition, all she'd want is to be healed or restored. Being incapable of providing either, what Arianna figured Zeus needed was the power of another god.

“Should I go and seek Apollo, or perhaps the Asclepiades?”

Arianna was answered with a backhand so malicious that it bloodied her mouth.

“Mention another god before Zeus and I swear, in his name, lightning shall burn you and your entire bloodline to cinders. You are a woman, are you not? Your ankles are inked, are they not? The meaning of your presence here should be obvious.”

Arianna listened while she cupped her rapidly swelling cheek. It was taking everything within her not to cry or vomit. The woman in black nudged Arianna until she was on the bed beside Zeus.

The woman tugged at the decrepit god’s loincloth, then things fell horribly into place for Arianna.

Arianna could only think of her mother and grandmother. Had her mother known the truth of Zeus’ condition? Did the pantheon know? Was the pantheon just a bunch of skeletons hidden away in bedrooms as well?

And her grandmother… Her devoted, steadfast, grandmother… Surely the bedridden figure was not the Zeus she prayed to every night. He couldn’t possibly have been one of the gods she saw worth forsaking her own daughter for.

The god whom everyone bowed to couldn’t be a sick, feeble, mortal of a man.

Arianna planned to exorcise the evening from her mind as soon as she left House Olympus. While her task with Zeus was short-lived, the woman in black ordered her to standby in case the god had further use of her.

Arianna crumbled outside Zeus’ door, gasping for fresh air. Arianna's mother was gone before she could teach her about mating. What little Arianna knew of it was whispered by women who were unaware she was listening.

The women spoke of it like a passionate expression of love, but not in the way mortals loved gods. Mortals loved gods out of fear, respect, gratitude, and fealty. When two mortals’ love for one another led them to mate, it was in a mutually desired fashion on equal terms.

Her time with Zeus was nothing but undesirable.

What would she say when she got home? How would she broach the subject to her grandmother? Then there were her neighbors, some of whom celebrated while others sulked with envy. How would they react to the news of Zeus?

Arianna considered the Ayioi. Greeks were taught not only that gods don’t mate with mortals, but that it was an impossible act. Mortal women who carried the pantheon’s children were told to have been blessed with extraordinary bodies capable of housing god-spawn. Gods would choose and impart pieces of their spirit into these women, making them Ayioi.

With at least some of that information clearly being false, Arianna wondered why women as powerful as Ayioi would allow inaccurate accounts of their lives to be told.

For as stern as the woman in black was, she said nothing to Arianna of keeping the night a secret. Certainly others would be alarmed by the information she could divulge, why not threaten her to secrecy?

Then again, who would believe the daughter of a heretic?

Face stained with tears, Arianna decided to leave. Though all she wanted do was bathe, to purge Zeus’ stench from her flesh, Arianna knew it wouldn’t be so simple. Her grandmother would be waiting patiently at the door when she got home. Arianna wouldn’t be able to sit or eat until she detailed every second of her time in House Olympus.

“Rhad! Rhadamanthus!”

Arianna raced down the staircase when she heard the name of Zeus’ youngest living son. The child of a god was often spoke of but never seen, not until they were of age to rule.

On the fourth floor was a muscular woman with the meander inked around her neck shouting for Rhadamanthus; she was indubitably one of Ayioi.

“Come out boy, lest we both incur your father’s wrath.”

A chubby little boy sprang from the room at the end of the hall to one of the middle doors, laughing at the top of his lungs.

“Get back here!”

The two disappeared into the middle room, the boy having left the door at the end of the hall cracked.

From the top step, Arianna could see a flashing light. She thought perhaps it could have been Poseidon’s lighthouse.

There was no telling what privileges or restrictions she had as an Honorary Maiden, but she imagined if a god’s son wasn’t allowed to roam, then neither was she.

However, Arianna thought if she could report one good thing from her time in the House Olympus, it would make it easier to not talk about all the rest later. She couldn’t think of anyone who wouldn’t want to hear about the view of Poseidon’s lighthouse from Zeus’ mansion.

And so, Arianna slipped through the cracked door.

That is how she found herself in this bizarre room. What was strange wasn’t what she found, rather what she didn’t.

The room was completely empty. There was just a single, round window big enough for an adult to fit through. The boy must have left that cracked too, as rain had begun to dampen the floor.

Arianna runs to the window, expecting to see Poseidon’s lighthouse. Instead, she sees a mountain range in the distance. Whatever the source of light, it was from beyond the mountain, beyond Greece.

“Arianna! Arianna come here at once! Servants find her!”

She can hear the ghastly woman in black barking from the edge of the hallway.

Arianna’s knees buckle as she clutches her chest. She can’t determine what’s worse: being found in this room or being sent back to Zeus’ bed.

Though, there is the option of escaping through this window.

“Arianna you’re in House Olympus, the fall would kill you. Even if you survived, where would you go?” she asks aloud.

There were too many uncertainties, too many questions she needed to have answered. There was only one rational choice.

Arianna opens the window and peers through the rain to the mountain range. While she can’t pronounce what she sees, she burns the big white letters into her mind, reciting them the way her grandmother has done with Zeus’ titles:

H-O-L-L-Y-W-O-O-D

Arianna shuts the window and dries her face with her golden trimmed toga. She disappears into the hallway, making sure to close the door behind her. The woman in black is scolding the servants at the end of the hall before she realizes Arianna is there.

“Miss, if Zeus has further need of me, I am here.”