Message From Hermes 2s733m

Message from Hermes ©2021, C.B. Liverpool

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 978-1-09839-642-8 ISBN eBook: 978-1-09839-643-5

Contents

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 1

A funny thing happened to me last year. It wasn’t an ordinary experience. It would be easier to explain by telling the entire story. It all happened after I lost a diving match.

It was a cold day in my sleepy, small town. Gray clouds still swirled above, a sign of more rain coming. The wind whistled as I walked home from my local high school sports auditorium. I had lost a match against another school, and facing my mom was bound to be depressing.

Images of the match flashed through my mind as I exited the school gate, waving at the security guard. I made my way down the tree-lined village road, marching past the yards full of children who had just come home from school. I sighed in acceptance.

The divers from the other schools were excellent, after all. And it was not the first time that a young swimmer like me could not execute a reverse somersault tuck dive flawlessly. I cringed inwardly in embarrassment. I was not too shocked at today’s outcome, but it made me sad anyway.

It was nearly sundown, but I couldn’t see any trace of the sun with the bleak sky. As I walked down the wet, empty streets, fighting the strong wind and leaves blowing my way, a shiny, bronze-coloured object suddenly fell from the sky with a loud, echoing clang on the cement a short distance away from me. It was promptly bowled over by the strong wind along the street, rolling right up to my feet.

I stopped in surprise and picked it up. It was a headpiece of some kind, round and thick yet surprisingly light and warm to the touch. The wind gave another icy blast, and I stuffed the object into my jacket and hurried home.

At home, safely locked in the comfort of my room, I pulled out the item for a closer look. It appeared to be a bronze helmet that had a strange, unearthly glow to it. More curious were the very soft wing-like attachments on either side of it. The wings seemed to be moving in a gentle flapping motion of their own accord, which left me more curious. Upon closer inspection, one of the wings was crooked and moving irregularly. As I turned it around in my hands, there seemed to be a soft musical note emanating from it.

Before I could inspect any further, my mother called me to come to dinner, and I had to put the helmet away and my family at the dinner table.

“So why don’t you tell us about your match, hon?” Mom asked.

I opened my mouth and started the tale of my sad loss.

***

I should introduce myself. I’m Vanessa, a twelve-year-old diver and student in a small, secluded town with only a few thousand people in it. I’ve lived in this town my entire life.

As I grew up, people always expressed surprise that my long-haired skinny self

eventually became an athlete and part of the school varsity team with a winning streak. I took my place alongside my other athletically inclined siblings.

I had a tradition to maintain, so it was such a disappointment to lose that day. My family took it well and merely said I couldn’t win everything.

Anyway, let’s go on with the story.

***

“Oh, Vanessa!” my friend Jen called me after the third-period bell the next day. “Did you hear the news?”

I shook my head but was sure I would have heard whatever it was sooner or later. Living in a small town with less than ten thousand people in it and studying in one of its few schools meant any minor incident always became the town’s talk. And trust me, my best friend Jen would be the first person to gossip about any news.

“Well,” continued Jen, “yesterday, about the time the swim competition ended, a man fell from the sky! Isn’t that strange? He landed right smack in the village golf course lake out of nowhere.”

I looked around at her in surprise as we headed toward the snack bar. I usually found village news boring, but this time it seemed connected to the round object I had picked up. “Really? The same time I went home? Is he alive?”

“Yes,” Jen said. Clutching a frosty can of soda in one hand, she reached into her bag to pull out a crumpled piece of newspaper. “I cut the story out of the paper.” And she proceeded to chatter about how the man survived because he fell into a body of water instead of on land. This left everyone mystified that he did not seem to have fallen off any ing air transportation and was oddly dressed in robes. She ended by saying he was now recovering in a nearby hospital.

As she talked, questions popped into my head. Could the man from the sky be the owner of the object I picked up? What is that thing anyway? I made up my mind to pay the man from the sky a visit soon.

***

“Great! Doing fine, Van!” my coach called out as I drew myself out of the water after several practice dives. I still could not do that difficult reverse somersault dive, much to my frustration, but I was in a hurry.

“Thanks!” I replied as I towelled off and got ready for a trip to the hospital.

It’s not every day that a twelve-year-old goes into a hospital alone. I was conspicuous in jeans and sneakers, a foot shorter than everyone else. Yet it seemed I was not the only person interested in visiting the strange man from the sky. A small, inquisitive crowd had gathered in the lobby, and a nurse was trying to fend off the requests for an audience. Some of them were local reporters looking for a story.

I walked up to the nurse.

“Hi! I would like to visit the man who fell from the sky,” I said.

“So would all these people. Are you related to him?” she asked.

Then I replied to her, saying: “I have something that belongs to him. I have to give it to him personally,” Then I showed her the helmet. Of course, I was not sure it was even his, but I hoped it would work.

“That looks something like the shoes he was wearing. Okay, wait a sec.” The nurse promptly led me away from the crowded reception area and brought me through a separate hall to the hospital room. She knocked gently and said, “He’s a bit weak due to his head injury. He also says he does not know his name. Be quick.” Then I entered alone.

“Who’s there?”

The room was dimly lit, and I saw a man propped up on pillows with a leg encased in a cast and his head wrapped in a slightly bloodied bandage. He was a lean, muscled man with grey hair who appeared weakened by his injury. He had the same odd glow about him as the helmet and was holding what appeared to be a scroll.

A scroll? How odd.

I approached him carefully. He was a stranger, after all.

“Hi,” I mumbled.

“Greetings. Who might you be?” he asked curiously. He sounded pleasant and friendly.

“I’m Vanessa. I just came over to see how you were. I mean, you did fall out of the sky, didn’t you?”

He nodded snappily. “Yes, most unfortunately. The stormy winds and lightning caused me to fall. As you can see, I am fine. What else do you need to know?”

“Well,” I stammered when I noticed that he was ready to dismiss me. “You see, I wanted to check if you lost anything, like a helmet. I picked one up yesterday that fell out of the sky. I heard that you fell at the same time that I found it. I thought it might belong to you.” I pulled the helmet out of my jacket.

He suddenly sat up, beaming brightly. “Yes! My headpiece!”

Relieved that he was indeed the owner, I handed it to him. He took it immediately, looking glad. “My headpiece was almost lost! Yet now it is found!” He turned to me. “I am indebted to you!”

I was surprised to see the wings on the helmet flap faster as if it was happy to be

near its owner. “Aw, no problem.” I shrugged with a smile. “I’m glad to return it. That’s all I came for. Hope you feel better soon.”

I turned to leave. He suddenly reached out to stop me. “Wait! I need your help!”

I stopped.

“My name is Hermes. I am the messenger of the gods,” he said.

CHAPTER 2

I stared inquiringly. This guy was crazy. His head injury must be a bad one, I thought.

The nurse came in. “Are we all done? More visitors want to know about you.”

“No!” said the man who called himself Hermes. “I will only talk to Vanessa here.” The nurse left.

He looked at me again. I just stared and vaguely thought of calling the nurse back.

“I am Hermes, and I have an important mission, an important message to bring to the gods, but I ran into the storm and some horrible creatures in the sky, and I fell here,” the man called Hermes said feebly. “You can see that obviously, I cannot continue the mission now.”

Out of curiosity, I asked, “Did you say gods? And why is it so important? And why can’t you wait ‘til you get well?”

He said, “It is important because there could be destruction very soon in our world and especially in Mount Olympus.”

“Mount Olympus!” I gasped. “That’s in our mythology lesson in school!”

Hermes stared at me with astonishment. His glow seemed to diminish by the minute. “Mythology! So you think people like me are myths! This is a strange world I fell into. You may not believe me now. But if you take this headpiece and my winged shoes, you will see that it is true. And it would be a great favour you can do for me if I do not survive this injury.”

I looked at him with dismay. Was he really about to die? Then curiosity came over me again.

“Destruction in Mount Olympus? Aren’t there all those gods there to prevent that?”

“They do not know about the menace that is coming,” he said. “My task as the messenger of the gods is to warn them, but I have failed. The evil forces must not prevail. You are not known to anyone in Mount Olympus; you can carry the warning without getting noticed. Please, if you can do this for me, it would be a great help—time is running out!” He looked at me imploringly.

Curiosity once again got a hold of me. “Can’t you call or send them an email?”

Hermes looked at me blankly. “What are those things you mentioned?”

I decided not to pursue that line of conversation. Then I asked him, “What do you want me to do?”

“Wear the headpiece, take this scroll, and take the wings from my shoes,” he said, extending the scroll he held toward me. He then pointed at a pair of his shoes, a soft-looking pair of what seemed to be a magnificent pair of socks but were standing upright like boots. Taking another look, I noticed that the shoes had wings attached to the sides, wings like those on the helmet.

Suddenly the wings from the shoes broke off and fluttered to me, and instinctively, I held out an open hand and watched the wings land gently on it.

“What is the message?” I asked.

“This scroll has the detailed message,” he explained while watching me try to open the scroll without success. “Tell them that Medea the sorceress has gone mad.”

I ed the name. “Medea? The sorceress that married Jason the Argonaut?”

“Yes. She is angry with the gods for how her life has turned out. She feels she has just as much power as the gods. She has somehow revived all the monsters that have been sleeping or were killed in the past. She will rally them to make her a ruler of cities like all the other gods.”

I was dumbfounded after hearing this from him.

“You will know when it is time. I will play my music, and the clock will stop. Then it is time to wear them,” he said. “The wings will take you to where I last encountered the storm that brought me here .”

The nurse popped in once again, and he broke off.

“Visiting hours are over,” said the nurse.

I left in a hurry, walking to the bus stop with my mind in a whirl, the helmet and wings tucked securely under my arm. As I walked, I looked at the scroll I was holding with questions popping into my head. How come I can’t pull this stubborn scroll open? Are there no cell phones or email where Hermes came from? Are these wings in my pocket alive? The questions kept coming. The winds blew stronger, and I walked faster down the road toward home.

The following day, I was at breakfast about to gobble a spoonful of cereal when I noticed that the usual morning noise had disappeared abruptly. I looked around and was stunned. It was as if time had stood still. My mom stood frozen in the act of pouring coffee into a cup; the coffee stream frozen in mid-air. I whirled around. My two brothers, who were discussing football, sat unmoving on the couch, their mouths still open at that moment. I looked at the clock on the wall. It had stopped ticking.

It was time.

I dashed to my bedroom, put on the helmet, watched the extra wings float away from my hand and attach themselves to the sides of my shoes, and waited.

Nothing happened.

Then I heard a faint sound of soft, tinkling music coming in from the bedroom window. Curious, I walked to the window. Suddenly there was a whizzing noise. The wings on my shoes were flapping!

With no warning, I was lifted off the ground, and I fought for balance. “Woah!” I screamed as I was suddenly pitched out the window, whirling in the air and soaring over the roof, and even higher.

“AAAAAH!”

Terrified, I spun out of control in the air, rising higher into the sky. I vaguely noticed that the world below was moving again. An image of my family searching for me raced through my mind just as a blinding flash of lightning tore through the skies before me. The howling wind tossed me playfully down to Earth. As I screamed for any force to save me, another crack of lightning deafened me, and everything went dark

CHAPTER 3

I opened my eyes, and my stomach lurched in horror as I realized that something seemed to be carrying me through a stormy sky at a fast pace. I looked up and nearly ed out with fright. We had studied mythology in school, and I could only assume that the monstrous creature carrying me was a winged monster called a harpy!

That mad sorceress must have expected Hermes to through here or know about the scroll I carried. So much for going unnoticed!

The harpy started descending. I looked down and realized with horror that we were over an ocean, and two gigantic rock formations in the water seemed to be moving—clashing together with a thunderous clap, then moving apart again. The harpy circled above the rocks for a moment and then unexpectedly released me! I was falling! As I fell, the harpy swooped in and struck me across the face, and everything went dark again.

I woke up tired and in pain, convinced that I was dead. I looked up to see a bearded man wearing dark flowing robes looking down at me.

“Ah, you are awake!” he said.

As the pain eased a bit, I managed to sit up and discovered that I was on the deck of an old wooden ship cruising over a smooth sea as the sun shone down brightly. Looking around, I realized we had left the stormy weather behind. Some men were handling the sails, oars, and lines.

“No need to trouble yourself,” said the man. “I was doing my usual fishing when you fell from the sky, and we were able to stop the rocks from clashing when you landed in the water.”

A thought crossed my mind. “Clashing rocks?” I vaguely ed the story of Jason the Argonaut, who made the clashing rocks stand still by sending a bird through the rocks. “Didn’t those rocks stop clashing a long time ago?”

The man replied, “Yes, but a strange occurrence has been happening in many lands recently. The rocks started clashing again. We only got it to stop by sending a bird to fly between the rocks like in olden times.”

I lay down again. “Who are you?” I asked.

“I am Dictys! King Dictys of Seriphos!” Then he laughed. “Of course, I wasn’t a king before; I was just a happy fisherman. I am a king now, but I still love to go fishing. It’s a good thing, too, since I found you.”

I immediately recalled the name from my mythology class. He was the fisherman, brother of a deceased king called Polydectes. He had become king after his brother’s death.

“My servant shall serve your meal in a while,” said King Dictys. He walked away.

I was saved! I was alive!

I had a luscious meal and asked the servant for directions to Mount Olympus. She merely threw back her head and laughed, thinking I was joking. She must have thought I had hit my head hard. It was such a relief to hear the cries of “Land ho!” from the deck. It wasn’t long before we made our way to shore.

Upon setting foot on Mycenae, I suddenly felt tired. I had nothing with me, not even a change of clothing or money. I had managed to enter some parallel universe, landing right in the middle of ancient mythological times. I had somehow survived an attack by a mythical creature, and now I was on a strange island with a king who existed only in schoolbooks. It was all very mindboggling.

I was taken to the grand home of King Dictys. He wondered aloud why I was asking for directions to Mount Olympus, and I told him I had a message to bring. I didn’t share details. I could not if Hermes said that only gods could know the message.

The king showed me to a guest room and told me to rest there. Once I was asleep, he had me stealthily put on a ship heading to Phocis, a port that served Delphi. When I woke up, I found a note on my pillow saying, “Look for the Oracle of Delphi or the Prophet of Thebes. They can help you.” He must have thought I was up to no good. Maybe I should have shared the details of my mission instead of being secretive. Imagine my surprise waking up on a new ship and seeing a new shoreline appearing in the distance!

Leaving the Phocis port area with directions from the seamen, I walked to the city outskirts before using the winged shoes to fly to Delphi’s mountainous region.

While wandering, I mingled with a crowd of people dressed in long robes walking up and down the hilly roads. There seemed to be some unrest in the town, with people gathered on street corners whispering to each other. Walking further, I overheard another group talking about visiting the Oracle. I decided to set off in the direction they indicated.

I continued to walk toward the foothills on an increasingly busy road and eventually found a well-built white temple seemingly respected by the townsfolk. I asked around and learned that the temple housed the Oracle of Delphi—a priestess named Pythia who could be consulted about the mysteries of the future. I finally found what King Dictys had said I should look for!

But for some reason, the temple was empty.

Not knowing how to go about a deity consultation, I walked into the empty temple. I began rubbing the walls, whispering to the stones of the temple, and feeling slightly foolish. But nothing happened. Maybe the priestess was no longer residing there. I decided to leave the temple.

Luckily, I met a woman on her way to the market. I asked why no one was at the temple. The lady then told me that the priestess had disappeared on the day that a strange woman had come to consult her. “It was a woman who wasn’t from this city who came to ask about her future. On the same day, the priestess disappeared. There are whispers that the stranger was a madwoman and that she may have harmed the Oracle. Neither of them has been seen since that day,” she said.

I was amazed. The visitor must have been the mad sorceress Medea! No wonder

the people at the port were frightened. This mission seemed to be getting more dangerous by the minute—an important priestess had gone missing! I was lost in thought when the woman asked me about my plans. Since there was no priestess to consult, I asked the woman if she was familiar with a town called Thebes. King Dictys did mention the town earlier. The woman said it was located in the southeast, and it was a many days’ journey. I thanked her and headed out of town.

Once out of sight, I flew off and eventually found myself in Thebes. While it was a fortified city with high walls, I quickly flew over the barriers unnoticed.

I was tired while walking the streets aimlessly. I had no idea what to do next when I came across an old blind man standing quietly at the side of the road. The blind man was holding a sturdy-looking staff; he was not begging and, in fact, had a powerful stance. Strangely, the people walking past him did not seem to take notice of him. He seemed to see me, though his eyes were clouded over.

King Dictys had mentioned the Blind Prophet of Thebes. This had to be him.

I approached him. “Excuse me, are you the blind prophet?”

He smiled. “I am called that.”

Not wanting to be dismissed again like with King Dictys, I poured out my story to him about how I needed help to warn the gods. The Blind Prophet looked surprised.

He said, “I am not familiar with the twenty-first century that you speak of. But if you need to find your way to the gods, some people can help you with that. There is someone closer I can recommend. You must pay a visit to Persephone, the maiden of spring.”

“That would be great,” I answered. “How do I find the maiden of spring?”

“You must visit her in the place where she resides at this time of year. She may be able to tell you how the dead monsters have come alive again. She might not even be aware yet. And you might be able to borrow her mystical torch. This mystical torch might also help with answers you may need in the future.”

He gave me directions, and I was off, speeding over towns and hills, ending at a lush forest after following a specific bubbling stream that emptied into a small, beautiful lake. At the centre of the bright blue waters was a large rock surrounded by smaller ones that looked like simple steps. The lake was beautiful, teeming with fish.

Walking slowly onto the edges of the lake, I found a spot on the ground where I could rest, intending to ire the scenery for a while. This lake was the last of the directions I got from the Blind Prophet. He had said to look for a supernatural being for help, yet there seemed to be no one living around the lake. How was I supposed to find Persephone here?

I was contemplating my options when a massive wave on the calm waters suddenly came hurtling toward the large rock in the middle of the lake. I watched in amazement as the wave splashed onto the rock and suddenly transformed into a lady with shockingly pink hair. This must be Arethusa, the water nymph. Calling out from the shore, I asked the supernatural being to allow me to visit Persephone, knowing it was the time of the year when Persephone

descended to the depths of the underworld to rule with Hades.

But Arethusa adamantly refused because I was alive. “Only dead creatures can descend to the place where Persephone is,” said Arethusa. “You are not.”

This was harder than I thought. So I left and stealthily crept back at nightfall, planning to wait for Arethusa to sleep, so I could look around to find out how to sneak into the underworld entrance. But my plans changed at midnight.

While hidden in some trees in the forest and watching the nymph on the lake, I stood up in shock as the sound of raspy moaning broke the quiet air. One moment, there was no one else around the lake. Then the next moment, a procession of moaning zombie-like people appeared out of the darkness, emerging from a road I had not noticed before and walking the distance toward the water. They were dressed in ragged robes and walked in a line toward the lake. The procession was led by a dominating figure of Hades, god of the underworld. Once the procession arrived at the lake’s edge, Arethusa seemed to command the water to rise and move aside, revealing a yawning cavern entrance on the bottom of the lake through which the procession disappeared.

So this was the way into the underworld!

Once the procession had entered, the magical waters rushed to cover the opening and became a serene lake again. Now I just needed to use this knowledge to make a plan to enter the underworld.

The next night, my plan was ready; I hoped that pretending to be dead would work. I was wearing a hooded brown robe stolen from a street market and hiding

behind a tree on the road I saw the zombies traversing. As the procession approached, I slipped into the zombie line stealthily and began to moan as they did. Although the moaning of the zombies ahead of me was soft and mournful, my forced moaning sounded loud to me in the night.

The zombies were walking so slowly that I had an urge to sit down and wait for them to put out a foot and move forward. From the corner of my eye, I could see Arethusa standing on the water, casually watching us but also looking about to see if there were outside observers. She did not detect the non-dead person in the line.

I followed the procession into the amazingly dry cavern under the lake, and the waters soon closed up over the cavern’s opening behind us. We walked and walked on the dirt road in the dark until we came to an underground river where I found myself waiting my turn to ride a ferry operated by a thin, funny-looking fellow who introduced himself as Charon. This must be the River Styx that I read about in mythology class. It was not the only river there, though it must be the most famous one. While standing still, looking at the blue cavern walls, I saw a coin drop near my feet. A coin? I picked it up. I realized the zombie beside me had been struggling with his small bag of coins and dropped a few. I kept the coin and was glad because there turned out to be a ferry fee that I could pay with it.

Cerberus, the enormous three-headed watchdog of the underworld, gave my zombie group a vicious snarl that startled me and nearly made me fall into the River Styx. We had arrived at our destination and had disembarked. As Charon propelled his ferry back to the other side of the river, a figure in a hooded robe appeared out of the gloom and came toward us. He was carrying a large, gleaming scythe. When he came close enough, I saw that the hand holding the scythe was a skeleton hand. The figure looked up, and a chorus of terrified moans rose. The figure was all bone, and it could be no one else but death himself.

Death motioned with that bony hand for us to follow him, and it wasn’t long before we came to an arch. The words Fields of Asphodel were engraved on the craggy stone arch. I ed this from mythology class as the place where ordinary souls go after death. We walked past some souls who detoured through the arch. They seemed to know where they were supposed to go. A short walk later, we came to another arch engraved with Tartarus. This was where the wicked souls went after death. Three of my zombie companions were left behind here, with their miserable moans filling the air.

After more walking in the dark, we suddenly heard joyful noises. I looked up from the rough stone floor to see what seemed to be sunlight shining down on grassy fields. This must be the Elysian Fields, the place where the souls of heroes went after death. This must be where Persephone lived. I was astounded that I even made it this far. Looking around furtively, I saw a beautiful and obviously living woman with golden hair walking along the groves. She must be Persephone!

Death left us here, disappearing back into the dark tunnels from where we came. I broke from the procession and went up to Persephone. She had been looking at the souls one after the other, but upon seeing me rush up to her, her jaw dropped in shock.

Taking me aside, she said, “You are among the living! Why are you here? Are you here for a reason?”

“Well,” I stammered, “the Blind Prophet of Thebes told me to ask you for help.”

“Come, Hades must not see you,” she said, pulling me away to a secluded corner.

I told her everything that happened and the message I was supposed to share. She listened intently and took me to a small, dark, stone shed where she took out an exquisitely carved four-tipped torch. Raising it in the air with one arm, she whispered some words I could not decipher.

The torch suddenly lit up, with four flames shooting upward, brightening the shed. I watched in surprise as the smoke evolving from the flames suddenly formed images above the torch. It was as if I was watching a television screen.

The images showed a red-haired woman in the underworld transform, disguising herself as one of the demons guarding the underworld and making her escape. The images shifted suddenly, showing monsters in the underworld of various horrifying forms and sizes who were suddenly submerged with a mystical light. The images suddenly disappeared from the underworld and reappeared on land. The images shifted again, showing the monsters wreaking havoc, killing people, and destroying homes as they journeyed toward their new master Medea in a faroff mountain. The smoke shifted, and the images disappeared, leaving just ordinary shadows on the walls as Persephone lowered the torch and looked at me thoughtfully.

“Now I understand why so many souls have been entering here lately,” said Persephone. “It must be because of her.”

“How did the monsters get out?” I asked curiously. “Was it all the monsters?” I ed seeing the three-headed watchdog at the underworld entrance.

“It seems she selected which dead monsters to take. She cast a spell on each one before leaving so they were able to disappear from the underworld without being

noticed.”

“What do I do? I don’t know the way to Mount Olympus.”

“You must find the children of Zeus to enter Mount Olympus. Find Athena, goddess of wisdom, who is also his daughter. She can bring you straight to the Temple of Zeus without having to go through all the barriers and protection. I do not know what her disguise is now as she roams among mortals, but I can tell you the place she is in.”

Persephone guided me out of the underworld through secret tunnels with the light from her torch and gave me directions to a place called Eleusis.

“I am sorry I cannot go with you. I am bound to stay in the underworld in this season,” she said before she disappeared back from where we emerged.

CHAPTER 4

I set out to find Athena, ing from town to town until arriving at the gate of Eleusis— supposedly the place where Persephone’s mother was a goddess. Compared to the last city, Eleusis was a hilly, open town with no high fortress walls.

Walking gently through an open city gate alongside horses and traders, I wondered how Athena, who was worshiped in Athens, would end up in a different city where another goddess was revered.

Wandering and taking in the sights, I noticed a beggar woman, unkempt and in rags but whose eyes had an unearthly sparkle. She was making her way quite confidently toward me, strolling leisurely through a crowd of people along the busy street while looking at wares sold on the side of the road. She did not look overly concerned about begging for money and seemed to merely be enjoying herself. After she ed me, I turned and followed her. She walked by a row of restless horses tossing about. As she quietly walked past, the horses suddenly quieted. At the same time, young children ing by stopped in their tracks and smiled up at her adoringly, drawn for no apparent reason. I became convinced that this woman was not like all the other people around her.

She could only be a goddess. “Excuse me, lady!” I called out, quickening my pace.

The woman turned toward me in surprise. As I screeched to a stop in front of her, she looked at me, taking in my odd appearance. She smiled. “You are a stranger here. Come.”

As we walked, I introduced myself and told her that I needed to send a message to the gods but that it was private. She led me to a shabby cottage a short walk away. Upon opening the door, I was surprised to see a small space with tastefully grand furnishings, with marble floors and luxurious chairs. Another woman was there, her back turned, pouring wine into copper cups at a counter. This woman was not a beggar woman at all, but an imperial lady dressed in flowing robes. At the sound of our entrance, she turned around and her resemblance to Persephone struck me. This must be her mother, the agriculture goddess Demeter.

She was equally surprised. “Ah, you brought a friend, Athena!”

I whipped my head around and saw that the beggar woman I had come with had disappeared, replaced with a tall, beautiful figure of a goddess in a silky white robe.

“Yes, Demeter,” said Athena. “This is Vanessa, a person from another realm. She has a message that might help us understand what is happening.”

I repeated the story of my journey while dining on food that was offered on an altar to Demeter by her followers. The two goddesses listened attentively.

“Well, this made our monthly wine gathering more interesting,” said Demeter.

Athena nodded sombrely. “A monster appeared here recently. One we thought was already dead. If what you say is true, then Demeter must stay to help her people since more monsters might arrive. I, on the other hand, will return to

Athens to help defend the citizens. We cannot go with you, but I can tell you how to get to the earthly home of Zeus on Mount Olympus. You might be able to share your message with him there.”

“Is it the temple that people worship at the foot of the mountain? Or the temple people worshipped in that city Olympia?” I asked, ing my mythology class.

“No,” said Athena. “It is his real earthly home. I will show you the way.”

She then proceeded to give me an elaborate set of instructions so I could find Mount Olympus. She also gave me a small metal box that I was not to open until I was there.

At nightfall, laden with a bag of food provided by the goddesses, I set out on the daunting task of traveling to find a secret home of Zeus on the famous mountain.

I spent a few minutes calming my fears before I stepped forward and started on the special path—a shortcut if you will—that Athena had instructed me to follow. The roads were confusing at night, but I had my instructions. They twisted into various crossroads, with some paths winding into mysteriously thick fogs. Alternately flying and walking, I finally came to the peak of Mount Olympus after two days.

It was morning when I arrived. But there was nothing there at the mountaintop except lush green grass and a strong wind. After looking around at breathtaking views around the mountain, I ed the box Athena had given me. She had said to open this only when I had arrived at the peak.

Taking a deep breath, I put the box down on the grass, pulled the top open, and backed away, not knowing what to expect.

A small ball of light slowly floated out of the small box, rising higher and higher, far above my head. I watched it float higher, its light intensifying in slow degrees until it suddenly shone so brilliantly I had to look away. When the light faded, I looked up to see a giant, sprawling temple standing before me. It had been hidden from sight!

This temple must be the real earthly home of Zeus.

I somehow sensed that the imposing structure was deserted, just like the Oracle of Delphi was. As stepped inside the well-lit halls and walked down the smooth stone walkways, it was evident there was nobody there.

Zeus must have left his home to do something. Could he be looking for Hermes? Why else would he leave?

As soon as I stepped out of the temple, it suddenly vanished into thin air. The box and the shining light were nowhere to be found. Not knowing what to do, I made my way down into a small town called Dion at the bottom of the mountain and found out what was going on.

As I arrived, mingling with townsfolk as I could, I immediately noticed that people were in a sense of panic. The town was awhirl with agitated people who talked about the latest news: the famous Minotaur, a mythical half-man and half-

beast creature, was alive again alongside a resurrected dragon named Delphyne. I digested this. The sorceress had resurrected her latest monsters. What could possibly come next?

The next day, I saw a man standing on a platform at the town centre, surrounded by a throng of people. He was announcing the latest news.

“Oh, people of Dion! We have heard the horror of the Minotaur and the dragon Delphyne being alive again. Today, we learned that Geryon, the three-headed giant who was long dead centuries ago, has been sighted. He is very much alive again! Do you know what he has done? He has taken the prow of the ship Argo. Yes, that legendary ship prow that the god Zeus had put in a constellation of stars. He has done something we had never thought possible!”

Gasps of horror and a wave of amazement swept through the crowd.

“Do you know what this means?” the town crier asked. “We are in great danger! We need a protector. We need Heracles, the strongest god the world has known, to help protect us and rid the world of these monsters!”

Heracles? I ed from class that Romans called this god Hercules, the god of strength.

I had heard enough. I was going to find Heracles. If I could not find Zeus, then I might as well find one of his other children and help with the situation.

I left the city centre and headed for the docks, looking for a boat to sail to the island where I heard Heracles lived. I asked around in vain, as most of the sailors on the dock were not interested as they continued to huddle together to discuss their fears of the risen monsters.

I was still searching when I saw a man who seemed ordinary-looking but had an air of peculiarity. Curious, I approached him as he stood at the docks, seemingly without any purpose. It was only at close range that I saw that he seemed to be guarding a very appealing, unoccupied boat.

“Excuse me, sir,” I said politely.

He turned to look at me.

“Greetings,” he said pleasantly. He took one look at my winged shoes and the helmet I was holding. “Those items look familiar!”

I immediately knew he was a god. Who else could know about winged shoes? So I told him all about my mission. He listened intently.

“Hmm. You can use my boat, lass. Hop on in.”

He flashed me a smile. That weird sense I had when I entered this world flooded through me once more. “I am Prometheus,” he said. I ed the name— the god of wisdom.

I was still enjoying this recognition when the boat suddenly started moving on its own.

Prometheus sat relaxed, not touching the oars. I sat petrified. “What’s moving this thing?”

“Shh! Don’t worry! Poseidon’s servants, Tide and Current, will handle this.”

ing that Poseidon was the god of the sea, I relaxed and soon fell asleep. I awoke to terrible noises not far away. I realized I was now lying on the sand. I got up, turned around, and jumped in fright.

We were on a sandy beach. But the shore’s beauty was ruined by the dual sight of a large, aged prow of a ship resting on the sand as well as the sight of a gruesome battle a few feet away. A giant with three horrible heads was fighting a man. No, not Prometheus, who was right beside me enjoying his view of the fight. The man in question lifted a huge rock and flung it with ease at the giant who shouted in rage.

From the display of strength, this human must be Heracles, and the monster must be Geryon, the giant. I realized Prometheus had already relayed my message to Heracles while I was asleep. In many ways, I felt lucky, but at this moment, being just a short distance away from this fight, I was also terrified.

The violent battle raged on for some time, with blows so strong they shook the ground. Then I heard a mighty crack. The giant Geryon lay still as a mountain on the ground. Heracles was atop his chest, looking triumphant and not at all tired. He promptly leaped off the giant and gave a friendly wave at us.

I was awed at the sight of this muscular god. After introductions, we lit a big bonfire where we roasted some fish that Poseidon had sent shooting up out of the water at Prometheus. We ate heartily while discussing my journey and the message that had to be shared.

“I have not seen nor spoken to Father in a while,” said Heracles, “I think another way to communicate with Zeus would be to go directly to his real home in the skies.”

Prometheus nodded. “The earthly temples won’t be tended by the worshippers now since people are in fear of their lives from the monsters. It would be best to go visit the heavens.”

It seemed the two men had a lot of catching up to do as well, and I fell asleep to the sound of them still talking.

CHAPTER 5

I don’t recall whether it was Heracles or Prometheus who shook me awake. I was half asleep when we set sail for the mountain where Atlas, the god who carried the skies on his shoulders, lived.

The boat came to the shore of the island, where grey clouds swirled, and a foggy, cold mist obscured our vision. Mostly dry, with very little foliage, the island was bare, dark, and depressing. Its main feature was an enormous mountain in the middle that loomed ominously, its peaks rising into the cloudy heights, disappearing from view.

After a long walk up the mountainside, we suddenly came out of the mist onto a flat sunny valley that was spectacularly lush and green—starkly different from the dry, rocky ground we had been traveling on.

I stared in awe. The valley was full of greenery, with small animals peacefully exploring the fields. Small pools of clear water could be seen dotting the expansive stretch. Flowers of all colours bloomed in clusters around the field.

Right in the centre of the valley was an enormous tree where three figures stood as if waiting. Coming closer, I saw three beautiful women in long, flowing dresses. These must be the Hesperides, the daughters of Atlas.

Then I noticed the tree they stood under—big, leafy, and laden with beautiful golden apples that shone in the light. Both Prometheus and Heracles approached the women, and they greeted each other like old friends. As we enjoyed the

apples from the tree, we talked about the mysterious resurrection of beasts happening in so many places and asked what they had heard.

“It is good that you came our way,” said one of the Hesperides. “We have heard about the reappearance of more monsters but did not know the cause until now. There are now about a hundred monster sightings. Old monsters and new ones. And where there are sightings, there is much bloodshed and destruction. People are terrified.”

“Yes,” said Prometheus. “And we must bring this news to Zeus at once.”

We spent some time eating and learning more about the situation before the Hesperides advised us to proceed on the road to Atlas and ask permission to enter the skies.

So we left the green valley and walked up the dry, craggy mountainside for hours until we finally saw the incredible sight of a mighty god at the top. Once again, I stopped to stare in awe. Atlas was holding up the cloudy skies on his shoulders. He smiled at our approach and our weary faces.

“We have come to enter the heavens to seek an audience with our father,” said Heracles.

As expected, the friendly old god gave his permission with a smile. As I watched the immortals say their goodbyes to Atlas, I wondered vaguely how we were supposed to enter the cloudy skies, but then Prometheus suddenly stooped down, grabbed my ankle, and unexpectedly tossed me upward into a world of white.

After I gasped in surprise and confusion in a hazy white mist, the foggy swirls cleared, and I found myself standing on cloudy ground. A cool, relaxing mist blew around me. Everything around me was swirling, misty white. Prometheus and Heracles popped up beside me, apparently tossed up the same way.

I looked around at a white world. So this is heaven!

In the misty distance, an enormous, sparkling white temple was visible. It was very similar to the temple on the peak of Mount Olympus. We started walking toward the temple. As we got closer to it, I saw a woman in flowing white robes and long black hair seated on the steps of the temple conversing with a young, handsome man. The man had a pack of arrows strapped to his back.

“Greetings, Aphrodite,” said Heracles. His voice seemed to echo in the vast space.

Aphrodite stood up and smiled. She was as dazzlingly beautiful as all the myths had said. “Greetings! What can my son Eros and I do for you?”

She looked startled at seeing me, so the other two gods quickly explained. She welcomed us inside the temple, and I started sharing Hermes’ message, followed by Prometheus sharing the news of the widespread destruction in the cities.

The topic soon turned to the whereabouts of Zeus, who had to be informed quickly. No one seemed to know where he was.

“I suppose he has gone to search for his messenger son Hermes,” Eros said. We all eventually agreed that the best way to find him was through Hera, Zeus’ wife.

“She should be here shortly, as she promised to enjoy wine with us,” said Aphrodite.

I chewed on an apple as the gods continued to talk about their encounters with all kinds of supernatural beings while I listened in fascination. Aphrodite was just finishing a story about meeting Psyche, the goddess of the soul and wife of Eros, when a majestic woman came gliding into the hall. Though not as beautiful as Aphrodite, Hera was a beauty in her own way.

“Greetings, Aphrodite, Eros,” she said. Then she saw us. “Ah! Prometheus and Heracles! Who is our new friend? Mortals are not allowed here.”

I recited my story and the message for Zeus. Soon, we were all deep in discussion about the situation when we heard faint roaring noises coming from far below us. We all dashed out of the temple as the cloudy grounds shook slightly.

Coming to a cloudy edge, we all peeked out to see what was happening on earthly grounds and stood still in shock.

We could easily see groups of monsters of all shapes and sizes in different cities romping joyfully on different lands below, attacking people, destroying homes and temples, and revelling in death. They all seemed to be traveling in one

direction.

Prometheus suddenly spoke, “The crowd of monsters seems to be increasing particularly on the road going to Mount Olympus. They must be intending to find the temple where people worship Zeus, as that is where mortals perceive the gods’ seat of power to be.”

“There she is,” said Aphrodite, pointing at a woman on the road who seemed to be gathering the monsters. “That’s the sorceress.”

Medea’s long, scarlet hair flowed freely, and her robes snapped loudly in the wind as she walked down the road with a sneer on her face.

“Medea is truly out of control,” said Heracles. “We are easily looking at more than a thousand monsters. But it seems they are waiting for the other monsters to arrive from the different cities and lands. That will give us time.”

Hera turned to us. “We need Zeus now. I will find him and send him here at once.”

CHAPTER 6

The gods who were with me had decided to return to land to help out. Aphrodite and Heracles had gone to Thrace, while Eros went to Crete to warn and prepare people for battle. They killed many monsters, but they could not stop them from rising again under the magic of Medea.

Prometheus and I were sailing for Colchis to warn the citizens there of the battle ahead. The destination was farther away, and we were a few days at sea already when I noticed a dark shadow in the water rushing toward us. I shouted to Prometheus, who looked horrified and started running down the ship deck, shouting at the crew to prepare for something called “Scylla.”

I was watching curiously when I was thrown violently to one side as something big crashed into the ship. The ship started to spin, and the waves turned violent, with water smashing pouring onto the deck. I turned my head to see all the men running about, hollering and trying to draw weapons at the last minute. I watched in horror as some men fell overboard as the ship tilted sharply. As I crashed to the side of the ship, a roar resounded, and I watched an enormous, scaly, dragon-like head on a very long neck coming out of the water. A second, third, fourth, and fifth head broke out of the water on different sides of the ship, all shrieking.

“Get up and run! It’s Scylla!”

I looked at the monster. What a pretty name for such a horrible thing! I got up and tried to run after Prometheus, but the deck was extremely unstable now, with water overflowing everywhere. I screamed as one scaly head lowered itself in front of us, snapping at Prometheus, its red eyes flashing. A huge wave crashed

over us. As Prometheus and I struggled to get up, I noticed that the six heads of Scylla suddenly froze and shot up in unison, all looking outward toward the sea.

There was a figure standing on the sea not far from us. He wasn’t just a man. The magnificently muscled and silver-bearded man had a powerful stance, and an unearthly light was shining all around him as he waved a golden sceptre in the shape of a lightning bolt at Scylla. It could only be the greatest of the gods— Zeus himself.

A crash of light from the sceptre suddenly struck the monster with a deafening peal. The light from the bolt was so bright that we all had to look away. The beast screamed and slunk back into the water, its shadow in the murky depths moving quickly away.

Zeus walked on the ocean waves toward the ship easily, and I felt the partly submerged vessel miraculously lifting on the water despite its damage. As the crew who had fallen into the sea scrambled back onto the ship, Zeus walked up to the deck and pointed his sceptre outward.

“To the island of Circe!” he commanded.

The wrecked ship, now afloat again, came to life and started to move in that direction. Feeling safe again and with a cool breeze blowing, I was relieved to finally give Zeus Hermes’ scroll. It was miraculously undamaged by the water due to some form of magic.

I watched as he unfurled it and read the message. As I fell asleep, he was still conferring with his sons.

***

I woke up as I felt a cool liquid slide down my throat. I opened my eyes to find a beautiful woman with long, dark hair and colourful, airy robes giving me a drink. She smiled and helped me sit up.

Looking around, I could see that I was on the beach of an island. Instead of looking desolate and ominous, this island seemed aglow, packed solid with a vast crowd of people dressed in white. Recognizing Heracles, Aphrodite, Athena, and Prometheus, I realized that all the gods and goddesses were gathered here right in front of me, talking with each other and exchanging greetings.

A flapping sound made me look up to the sky, and I watched in amazement as a white-winged horse flew down from the sky, landing softly on the sand. That must be Pegasus!

I turned to the dark-haired woman. “You must be Circe the enchantress,” I said.

“Yes, that is my name,” she acknowledged.

Heracles, Prometheus, and Aphrodite saw that I was awake and came over. “Why are you all gathered here?” I asked.

Zeus himself answered, stepping out from behind me where he had been standing watch.

“We are here to battle the army of the mad sorceress Medea. Thanks to you, we now know the cause of the danger,” Zeus said.

I then noticed that all the white-clad figures were armed with swords, mysterious-looking sceptres, and strange objects worn on their bodies. Zeus turned and called out to his son Apollo, the god of light, to fetch his sun chariot.

Apollo returned with the sun chariot’s driver, Helios, readily awaiting commands. Zeus then loaded me onto the chariot as the immortals I knew watched with a smile. “The battle with the monsters will soon begin. Return to my temple and stay there until it is all over.”

The chariot’s trip was not a pleasant one as it sped over the sky, and I felt like I would fall off the entire time, holding on to the reins for dear life. It was a short trip to the temple in the heavens. Upon alighting from the chariot, we immediately felt the skies shake. The cries of battle resounded in the air, signifying the start of the gods’ war against the monsters.

I spent the next few days anxiously looking into a magical pond in the temple that showed me images of what was happening in the battles. It was like watching a television screen. Even when I left the pond, the roars echoed and the sky regularly shook as the encounters continued.

Then one day, as I was resting on a soft bed, I heard the sound of people entering the temple. Panicking, I picked up a brass carving and rushed out to attack the

treser, only to find the familiar faces of Hera and Hermes!

I gave Hermes a fierce hug and Hera an enthusiastic greeting, letting them know about the battle. Hermes was still stuck in a cast, giving me plenty to rib him about. Apparently, since I had told Hera where Hermes was, it was easy for her to find him. She left us alone to catch up. We were exchanging stories for an hour before Hera walked back into the room.

“I shall take my leave now to the battle.”

The battle raged on for days, the ground shaking ominously as Hermes and I watched the occurrences in the magical pond. While waiting, I helped him remove his cast and practice flying around with his winged shoes and helmet again.

It was days before we heard what we were waiting for. A bolt of special lightning from Zeus flew up and lit up the skies everywhere in amazing brilliance, like fireworks. The roar of triumphant gods was deafening.

The battle was over.

CHAPTER 7

One by one, the figures of gods started to pop into view in front of the temple.

We rushed out to meet the arriving crowd of battle-worn immortals led by Zeus. They were severely beaten and scarred but victorious and full of cheer.

I was surprised to see Heracles appear out of nowhere holding a woman captive, dragging her along to the temple. It was the sorceress Medea. She struggled and shrieked, trying in vain to break free.

Zeus called for Hypnos, the god of sleep. He came over and waved a hand over the face of the struggling Medea. Within seconds, she fell limply against Heracles, fast asleep. She was laid down on a bed, and a healer god called Asclepius rubbed some mysterious oil on her forehead with enchanted words. I watched as the sleeping sorceress was loaded onto the sun chariot, magically standing upright as she slept, and transported by Helios to an unknown destination.

“For the rest of her life, she will no longer have her special powers,” said Zeus. “She cannot return to the underworld now as she is alive again. But she will live as an ordinary mortal for the rest of her days.”

With the danger gone, I was delighted to celebrate with the gods that night. I even got my first taste of ambrosia! But by the end of the celebration, I felt despondent as I embraced the gods I had spent time with. As Heracles, Prometheus, Aphrodite, Athena, and Persephone prepared to return to the cities

to share the news with the people, they gathered around to give me their good wishes.

It was time for me to return to my world.

“Your bravery in bringing Hermes’ message to us will always be ed,” said Zeus. “Because of you, we have saved many people in our lands. We will always be in your debt.”

All the gods then walked with me to the temple’s arena where the temple’s highest platform ledge stood. It was where Zeus was said to stand when making announcements to a crowd of gods.

“Stand there,” said Zeus.

I did so and found myself looking down in terror as the swirling clouds at the base of the temple suddenly opened up to show the earthly cities a million miles below.

“Dive from where you stand to return to your world,” said Zeus.

I must have looked terrified because he patted my shoulder comfortingly. “Have faith and take that step,” he said.

I shut my eyes and dove off the ledge, plunging downward, the wind whining

loudly in my ear.

***

SPLASH!

I had hit water after a long plunge. I surfaced hurriedly, gasping for breath.

“Good dive, Vanessa!” a familiar voice exclaimed. “You finally got the reverse somersault dive perfectly!”

I looked up to see my coach and Jen in her swimsuit standing at the edge of the swimming pool.

Swimming pool?

The sun was glaring down blindingly at us. I quickly looked down at myself. I was also in my swimsuit. Swiftly, I looked around me. The school lawn, the diving board, my towel, the little table shaded by an umbrella, things I knew well.

I was at my school. I was home in my world.

I looked up at the sunny sky. It was not the bleak, grey sky I had seen before leaving for an ancient, mythological world to meet the gods.

Or did I go there at all?

“Oh, Jen! Hi! I wasn’t expecting you,” I said uncertainly, looking around with a bit of confusion.

“Your mom said you would be here. She said you were going to practice in the pool since you don’t have class today. You okay?”

Did Jen just say I had done the reverse somersault? The dive that I was not able to do in my last swim competition?

“Yeah,” I answered, then slowly smiled. “So I finally got that dive right?”

I spent the entire afternoon distractedly listening to Jen. My mind was still in another world. Did I even go there? I even called up the hospital and asked for the patient who fell from the sky, but they claimed there was never a patient with that description there. Jen did not showing me a newspaper clipping about a man falling from the sky.

“It must have been a dream,” I told myself.

After a week, I had convinced myself that I had dreamed it all up.

One day, while shopping with Jen, I was looking at some Greek-inspired dresses when I happened to glance out the window and saw a woman dressed in white across the street. It was Aphrodite! Strangely, no one on the road around her seemed to notice her.

Jen, who was reading a newspaper, pulled me back to show me an article. She did not notice what I was looking at.

“Look at this news,” said Jen, sharing the newspaper with me. “Our town has an insane woman named Medea who was just sentenced to jail.”

Anxious, I grabbed the newspaper, and there it was—a photo of a woman who looked exactly like Medea the sorceress, being escorted to prison. Peculiar! I looked out the window again. Aphrodite was turning away.

I dashed out of the department store and ran across the street, but Aphrodite was no longer there. Busy people pushed past me, and the wind blew the leaves around my feet.

Did I imagine everything? I dragged myself back to the store in confusion. I had convinced myself that my adventure with the gods was a dream. But now, I don’t know what to believe anymore!