LOGINMy father was the God-King, and he loved my mortal mother with all his heart. To help her adapt to life in the divine realm, he even infused his own blood into her, granting her eternal youth and elevating her to the rank of a goddess. Defying the unanimous opposition of all gods, he built a resplendent palace solely for her here in the divine realm, making her the happiest woman across all heavens. Yet he never loved me — his first child, born of him and my mother. As time went by, he visited my mother less and less frequently. Eventually, I passed away. Mother begged him to seek justice for me, but he only replied indifferently, "We shall have many more children." His words crushed every last glimmer of hope in her heart. Mother grew utterly disillusioned with him, and resolved to avenge me with her own hands. The God-King’s patience toward her dwindled day by day. It was as if I had been born bearing nothing but misfortune. To avenge my wrongful death, Mother cast aside everything she once held dear. When she finally turned her back and left the divine realm forever, that aloof, domineering God-King went mad. He chased after her, begging desperately for her to return.
View MoreThe following spring, Zeus came alone by boat to that small seaside town in the mortal world.He brought no guards, no retinue, not even his thunder-scepter. He wore a cloak of dark grey, the hood drawn over half his face, like any ordinary traveler.He found the street where my mother lived. From a distance he saw the wooden door, with the faded red wedding mark still pasted on it, and before it a clump of jasmine in full bloom, the scent drifting on the air.The door opened.My mother came out with a basin of water and tipped it onto the flagstones before the door. She wore a blue cloth dress, her hair pinned up with a wooden pin, a faint smile on her face.She saw him, standing at the corner of the street.The basin slipped from her hands and struck the ground with a dull sound.She looked at him, and the light in her eyes went out, little by little, and in its place came something calm and immovable. Not hatred. Not resentment. Not forgiveness, even. Only this: she had let it go.Z
My mother and Julian went back to the small town in the mortal world.Their wedding was put off a month. This time Julian said, “No more mishaps. We’ll hold it in the yard, tell no one, ask only a few neighbors. We won’t breathe a word to anyone.”My mother agreed, smiling.On the day, the sky was very blue and the clouds very white. Julian set out two tables in the yard. Seven or eight neighbors came, all old folk who knew them well. The priest came too, a white-haired old gentleman who leaned on a cane and spoke slowly.No Zeus. No Hera. No one at all from Olympus.Only sunlight, flowers, laughter, and two people holding tight to each other’s hands.“I do,” my mother said, her voice low but steady.“I do,” said Julian, and the tears fell.They exchanged rings. Not gold ones; Julian had made them himself from a silver coin, and on each he had cut a single word: Peace.My mother slipped hers onto the fourth finger of her left hand, where it covered the gold scar at her wrist.I drifted
Zeus let my mother go.Not willingly. He had no choice, because Julian had come.The mortal physician had ridden day and night for three days, from the mortal world to the foot of Olympus. He had no ichor, no divine power, nothing that could stand against a god. He had only a pair of hands and a heart.At the gate of Olympus he shouted, “Give me back my wife!”The nymph guards laughed. A mortal, daring to shout at the foot of Olympus? They made ready to throw him down the mountain.But Zeus heard him.He stood on the balcony of the highest palace and looked down at the small mortal far below. He looked for a long time. Then he said to his captain, “Let her go.”The captain froze. “King —”“I said, let her go.” Zeus’s voice was calm, calmer than was like him. “Bring Semele. Let her leave with that man.”The captain did not dare refuse.They brought my mother to the gate of Olympus. The moment Julian saw her, his tears spilled over. He rushed to her and caught her up and held her, tight,
My mother was brought back to Olympus.But not to see Zeus. She was shut into the temple Hera had once lived in. Not shut, the captain said: invited. He said Zeus wished to see her one last time. But Zeus did not appear.She waited in the temple three days. In three days no one came, only the nymph who brought her food, set it down at the door in silence, and left.On the fourth day, Zeus came at last.He stood in the doorway and did not enter. His color was bad, his lips a bruised purple, as though he were gravely ill. He leaned on a staff. The King of the Gods, leaning on a staff. I had never seen such a thing.“Semele,” he said. “I want you to see what has become of Hera.”He did not wait for an answer. He turned and walked, and after a moment’s hesitation my mother followed.They passed down the long colonnade, across the Plaza of Heroes, to the dungeon at the foot of Olympus, the same dungeon where my mother had been held.The iron door opened, and a wave of stench rolled out.Her
The dungeon was cold and wet.My mother huddled in the corner with her arms around her knees, like an animal in a cage. The darkness was thick enough to grip in the hand, and the air reeked of rust and rot. Her clothes were soaked through, clinging to her skin, cold as ice.By the third day her legs
The marriage of the dead went ahead.Hera’s family gave themselves the airs of royal in-laws and swaggered through the realm of the gods. Alcyoneus’s parents, Hera’s brother and his wife, paraded into the great hall of Olympus in gold-edged robes to receive the homage of the gods. They called me the
Hera came smiling, a golden basket on her arm, a few golden apples nestled inside.They were the golden apples brought as tribute by the Hesperides, fruit from the divine tree that Gaia, the Earth Mother, had planted with her own hands. Each one was beyond price. Each one stood for honor and for pow
After my mother lit the incense and let me go with her own hands, she fell ill for a long while.The physicians of Olympus came and called it a wasting of her divine essence: the faint trace of ichor in a mortal body was not enough to bear so great a grief. They gave her medicine, a golden liquid in






Welcome to GoodNovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel, fantasy novel, history novel and so on. If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more admiration from readers.