The Minoan Rhapsody

The Fall

A thousand lifetimes lived, one more death to endure.

Falling through the abyss Hephaestus closed his eyes. The rushing air was loud, yet he was at peace with himself. Thoughts of Olympus distanced themselves like fading thunder. His right hand clenched his double-edged battle axe, it's blade still moist with Zeus' fresh ichor. The only thing left for him to do was to wait for the end.

His kin, the Olympians, conquered as he forged. Deserters from the land of Thoth, long ago renegades in a new world – A place once full of mysteries where among the lesser, they were gods. Like unrestrained outlaws they ruled earth and everything on it. With no death to fear, time lost its meaning. Enthralled by eternity, they had infinite emptiness to share.

Hephaestus was not like them, to old customs he held. He was The Smithing God, creator of metal wonders beyond compare. He was the last of the forge masters from the Western Seven Isles. Yet his craft enslaved him, for Zeus valued it above all. Constantly breathing smoke within halls of flames, with anvil and hammer, turning true Zeus' biddings and wishes, obeying every clamor. Hephaestus was a God, but among the Gods he was the lesser. Eternity turned dull, unrelieved. Nectar lost its sweetness and ambrosia had no zest. There was no passion, no laughter, and no fear, only Olympus, unrepressed.

Weary Hephaestus just kept forging, until the day his father ordered the one thing he would not give. The thought of marrying Aphrodite was repulsive. There could be no love from such kin. He defied his father, the one who wields lightning, he who sits on the sky.

It was hot, very hot, clothes long burned by flames that engulfed him. He held no hatred, no foul thought. Death is what he wished for, in hope of feeling alive once again. With his eyes still shut, he felt the earth closing on him. He was tired. Peace and rest were all he wanted. Extending his arms, tight-lipped, he lifted the corners of his mouth. Gaia embrace me; give me peace, even if only for a short while. After all, forever is far too long...

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Asterion was of Thracian blood. Like all the women of Lemnos, she worked the land, the sea, and the house. Her skin was dark tanned, filled with freckles from endless days under the sun. Her hazel eyes were the only remnants of a beauty eroded long ago.

Fishing was the one chore she enjoyed the most. The sound of the waves, the soothing water, and the calming breeze were all things she looked forward to. It was as if sweating by the sea was less strenuous than sweating over land. Her daughter, Arindraai, the youngest of her three children, kept her company. It was morning and both were at the beach. Ripples licked their feet as they leaned against a rowboat resting over the sand. They were repairing fishing nets as their tows dug into the sand playfully.

"Have you thought of whom you will marry yet?"

"No one."

"Ari, it's time. You must. You know if you don't choose your father will do it for you. He will not wait much longer."

"Why would I wed someone who will just use me like a thing? Men only care about two things: raiding, fornicating. Once I am useless for the later, I will be just like you, worn and too tired to care," Arindraai replied as she clumsily handled the net shuttle.

Asterion pressed her lips and stared at the sand. "I'm sorry," she whispered back. "This is who we are-"

"But this is not what I want!"

"And what is it that you want?"

"I see you get beaten to a pulp every time Papa comes home drunk. I hear men treat women as if they were less than a dog." Her fingers got tangled in the net. "We could get killed in the middle of the street and no one would care. I will not belong to anyone. I am not a thing to be left forgotten in some dark corner waiting to be summoned to do someone's bidding." She gave up trying to repair the net.

"Here, let me show you," Asterion interrupted, as she took the net and shuttle from her daughter. With her callused hands she showed her how to repair the net. "I could never understand how you can be handy with a hammer and anvil yet be so bad at repairing nets."

Arindraai shrugged her shoulders as she wrinkled her forehead.

Asterion set aside the shuttle and net, held her daughter's hands and kissed them. "My dearest, there is nothing I could wish more for than a better life for you and your brothers. If there was a way out of here, I wouldn't hesitate to lead you through it." She raised her eyebrows. "Lemnos is all there is."

"What lays beyond our shores that entices men to venture away from our homes?" Arindraai bent and picked up a small clam and inspected it. "We don't need the spoils from their raids. My brothers should be here, tending the sheep, planting, and harvesting wheat, fixing our house." She tossed the clam and caressed her mother's scraggly, short hair.

Asterion paused and closed her eyes for a moment. Then, she returned her attention to the net.

"Why?"

Asterion paused again. Her glistened eyes met her daughter's. "I wish I had other answers for you."

Thunder cracked from a cloudless sky. A ball of fire blazed through the sky, crashing on a nearby mount. The force of the impact flattened a few scattered trees, flipped the rowboat in the air, and thrusted both women onto the sea. Debris and sand showered the beach.

Mother and daughter surfaced and yelled for each other. Once they found themselves, they swam towards the shore.

Arindraai was the first to set her feet back on the sand. Without hesitation, she ran as fast as she could to the site of the crash. Not long, sand gave way to a grassy flatland. As she approached the fuming crater, her bare feet got cut by the glassy rocks that littered the ground. She reached the crater's rim and fell out of exhaustion and pain from her feet. She looked inside. Her heart was pounding as anticipation clouded her judgment. What is all this?

As the smoke dissipated from deep within the crater, she saw a man, cut and bleeding profusely.

Hephaestus slowly opened his eyes and saw the young woman. Being the Smithing God, he immediately identified the details of her beauty. Her blond, wavy hair lay playfully above her shoulders. Her deviant, golden eyes had a coppery russet tint which made them look like amber. They were in perfect symmetry above her contoured cheekbones. Her round face ended in a jaw curving at the corners. Just for that instant, time stood still for him. His pain roared back, overwhelming all his senses. He looked down and cringed at the sight of his right leg. Its bones pulverized from hip to ankle. He closed his fists and squirmed on the ground. His trunk straightened and became unyielding. He wrinkled his forehead, brows and around his mouth, his face distorted, distressed. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth wide as he yelled out his pain to the point of his lungs burning.

Arindraai's eyes opened wide, her mouth slightly opened.

Her mother yelled, "Arindraai, get back here at once!"