The World Outside Olympus

At some point, their people lost track of them. I think it happened at the pinnacle of the rule of Constantine, bolstered by the propaganda of Christianity. They looked down on the gorgeous empire from high atop their peerless mountain and frowned as each of their names was called out in reverence for the last time, the candles on their alters extinguished, and the willingness of men to lend an ear to gods finally hindered.1

From what I hear, most of them were ready to retire anyways. I guess Zeus was mad about the whole thing and wanted to lift the earth and heave the city into the sea, but Poseidon was having none of it. So, grumbling in a voice that heralded flashes of light from the thick clouds, he was the first of the Olympians to go out into the world. It was a strange parade as the rest of them followed.2

Of course, Zeus was not the first to retire, really. I was. He was the first to descend Olympus. I, on the other hand, never made it that far up that fucking mountain anyways. The food there sucked, all they ever drank was wine, and Zeus actually had a divine dress code. I can’t say that the Underworld was any more exciting or anything, but at least I could get some peace and fucking quiet away from the damn buffoon and his thunderbolts. 3

I never really enjoyed the whole god thing. That’s why, when the prying eyes of the scholars and authors turned away from our lives, I was the first to slip away. I wasn’t surprised when nobody noticed I was gone, nor did I really care. I stayed away from them by choice, and I sure hoped nobody would try to follow me. I made my way to the land of the rising sun, where I was sure I’d never see any of them again. Imagine my surprise when she walked through the door.4

Japan was and is the strangest place on the planet. I came here because I didn’t know what was on this stupid island. Nobody did. When I first arrived, the place was a mess. Everyone was running around killing each other with swords, there was a war basically every damn day, and tribes of ‘demons’ ruled through the night, stealing limbs from anyone caught outside. Basically, it was my kind of place. Looking back, I think I was real lucky to get through that whole time period alive. These days, though, all I really have to worry about is the traffic, and blowing out another sub during one of my sets.5

My voice growled over the p.a., blending in melodically then clashing against the implacable, benign electronic noises weaving an eerie soundscape behind me. The band has never had success that is at all worth mentioning, but I like it that way. The people who come out to listen love the music, through and through. We’d played at that club many times, and I could recognize almost every face in the crowd. 6

She walked through the door and stopped me in mid song. Blonde hair, green eyes, pink lips to match her suede mini skirt and top… I recognized her, too.7

“Aphrodite.” I don’t think anyone heard my barely perceptible whisper, especially over the cacophony of background noise. She must have read my lips, and she blew me a kiss as I finished the song.8

I was quiet, for awhile, letting her do all the talking as I bought her Manhattan after Manhattan under the moon-like glow of the black lights above the bar. She spoke to me in Greek, our language that I’d nearly forgotten, but I could hear undertones of a French accent after her fourth drink.9

She went on and on about who’s been doing what where, talking loud and proud, oblivious to the countless men eyeballing her at the bar. Aries, whom she split up with over one hundred times in the past few centuries, was now a successful alcoholic and a vicious bar fighter. Haphaestus, with whom she’d also had a brief stint, was making a very good living customizing cars someplace in California. 10

“What made you want to come see me?” I asked, able to get in a word for the first time since the conversation started.11

She blinked and gave me a confused smile. “Because I love you, of course.”12

I scoffed. That was the oldest joke on Olympus in our heyday. I’d never fallen for it. “You never loved me, ‘Dite. You loved Aries. He used to enjoy telling me about it in embarrassing detail.”13

She blushed a little bit. “…Of course I love you, Hades. Just because I never slept with you doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I love all our family. And I’ve missed you so much…”14

She leaned over and hugged me. The men at the bar muttered and averted their eyes as I glared in their general direction.15

“So what have you been doing?” I said, if only to break the fragile silence that ensued after she withdrew her embrace.16

Aphrodite blushed again and lowered her eyes. “I’ve been making… films,” she said awkwardly. “I’d rather not talk about it.”17

I silently agreed in that I’d rather not hear about it. There was another long silence. The bar noise was growing louder as it grew late. The place reeked of alcohol and bad cologne. I wanted to leave, but there was one thing I had to ask her.18

“Why are you really here?”19

She finished her sixth drink in one determined gulp, as if she’d been waiting for me to ask that question. She waited until her eyes met mine before she said:20

“I know about your son.”21

I bit my tongue, but tried not to look surprised.22

“What happened?” She sounded concerned, sympathetic. “What happened to her?”23

I sighed. There is a long list of things I’d rather forget. Even after the slow erosion of centuries, Persephone was still fresh in my mind. She’d known what was going to happen to us before any of us did, and that’s why I couldn’t blame her for doing what she did. She was merely planning ahead.24

“Do you have time for a long story?” I asked Aphrodite. My Greek was very rusty, but I doubted she knew Japanese. I ordered a sake and began my tale when the bartender had poured it.25

“You remember what happened, don’t you? How I took her, and how we lived afterwards; happy and together. We’d sit and watch the night rise from the pours of the earth to push aside the sun and cast her spell over the sleeping world above us. We watched all your silly wars, and we’d collect the lives lost in those battles and carry them to the final place of their rest. I was the winter, and she was the spring, and despite whatever the poets said or whatever gossip floated around Olympus, we were very much in love. 26

“It was near the end of… all of it... when I noticed her becoming increasingly melancholy and distant. I guessed that she was seeing things to come again, an ability that always seemed to bring her sadness. She’d watch as the events of the world you ruled over would culminate in horror, cataclysm, and tragedy, and these things would effect her strongly. I was half-right, I suppose. She saw things to come, but this time it was not war, or tyranny, or rape or disease or destruction. This time, she wouldn’t tell me what it was. 27

“While I slept that night, she waited by the great yawning mouth of the Underworld, stroking Cerebus’s fur and whispering soothing words to the beast to calm it as Theseus came to ‘rescue her’.28

“I never saw her again, ‘Dite. I knew she was with child, and I knew it was mine. I was baffled by her abandonment, but I accepted it. And that’s why I left Rome before the rest of you.”29

I downed my sake when my story was complete. Aphrodite was wiping tears from her eyes. 30

“Why did she do it? I mean, don’t you ever wonder?”31

“I know why she did it,” I responded, “she saw our time coming to an end.”32

“But that was her fault!” Aphrodite looked embarrassed, as if her comment had not been meant to come out as loud as it did.33

“…I know. At least, I think I know… Maybe it was going to happen anyway. Having my son out amongst the humans was just her way of helping the transition be as smooth as possible.”34

“Jesus Christ!” Aphrodite said spitefully.35

“Yeah. I didn’t like the name much, either. I guess Mary and Joseph were names a bit more marketable than Persephone and Theseus.”36

“But it’s a lie! The whole religion is a lie! We could-“37

“It’s a better religion than ours was, dammit! That’s why I never said anything, and that’s why I’ll say nothing now! I know why you are here. You want me to help you take back Rome, right?”38

She was silent.39

“Well, I won’t. I’m sorry if you miss Olympus, but we are here now. We are human. Learn to accept it.”40

She looked mad for a moment, but her features softened as she sighed. “You must have really loved her; to trust her judgment so completely….”41

“Of course I did. And you more than anyone should understand that.”42

She did.43

Sometimes, I think about my son. Though I followed his exploits closely from afar, I wish I could have met him. But more than that, I think about her… Green eyes that glowed softly in the beautiful dark of my kingdom, skin that grew pale and delicate so far away from the sun, and the flowers that bloomed wherever she walked.44

In a world that has forgotten us all, I still worship her. I may visit Rome tomorrow, just to see the city again. For now, I can only wonder where she is. Memories chase me all the way into the deep realm of sleep, and there she waits; the only bright thing in a dark world.45