Disclaimers: I, in no way, claim any ownership over the majestic beauty that is Greek mythology. I am but a humble writer, and this was for English class. *Sweatdrop*


The Death of Zeus

Long ago, far beyond where the great cities of Athens, Thebes, and Sparta had risen, hidden deeply within the mountainous terrain that divided all of Greece, lived the forgotten children of the gods. Known as the Feycians for their unsurpassed beauty in mind, spirit and soul, these frail immortals lived with and were protected by the Fates, who knew what was to come to pass from the time of their birth.

Born from the tears shed by Rhea, Mother of the Olympians, for the children she had lost, Rhea had swiftly fled to the Fates and asked them to take them and hide them deep within their home in the Farecian Caves. Not even Cronus would be so bold as to barge into the home of the Fates, for fear of gaining their displeasure. It did not matter that he was more powerful, or that he ruled over the earth and the heavens, because to make yourself an enemy of the Fates was to tempt fate itself, which had not been controlled since the birth of Time himself.

The Fates accepted, under the condition that the children would be raised knowing nothing of the gods, and in due time, that they would become the heralds of the Fates, performing tasks and duties for the fates for all time. Rhea readily accepted, thinking only of the lives of her children. She left them, knowing that she would never again see them as her own children again, and if she were to ever see them again, she felt in her heart, that some how their meeting would not be pleasant.

As said, from that point on, the Fates raised the Feycians as their own, teaching them nothing of the gods, and that they, like their mothers, held the fate of all in their hands, even that of the immortals.

The Feycians, fragile and human like in their appearance, and though if needed, they could pass for humans, all born with distinguishing features. Upon their back were thin, beautiful wings, that' color and texture could rival that of Aphrodite's finest gown, and set in their faces were eye's the color of the deepest ruby, as if their eyes bled, and in a sense, they did. Having been born from the tears of Rhea, their own sweet kisses were poisoned, cursing mortals to eternal sleep. The final thing that gave them away the most in the company of humans was the fact that they shed not tears of salt, but tears of crimson blood.

Time after time the Fates drilled into them that they must always be in control of themselves and their surroundings, and constantly berated them for their foolishness with that of simple feelings.

However, being born from the tears of Rhea' sorrow became their ultimate weakness. They were much too sensitive to the emotions of those around them, and often time found themselves exposed due to their foolish pity of mortals and their sorrows.

It was not to be long before they attracted the attention of the Olympians, who up-till this point, had known nothing of their existence. This struck many emotions in the hearts of the immortals. Anger, at not discovering them sooner, confusion, as to what these creatures were and curiosity for the same purpose. However, it was fear that gripped the heart of every Olympian as they uncovered the fact that these creatures, much like themselves, were immortal, and there had never before been a time when the gods did not know of every immortal that was in existence.

It was quickly and easily decided that Hermes, messenger of the gods would be sent to confront one of these strange immortals, in an effort to gain information concerning this new factor and who and how it was tied to the immortals. It was simple logic, even to Ares, the most bull-headed of them all: Immortals didn't just appear out of thin air.

A Feycian by the name of Lythian was by fate the closest of the Feycians Hermes encountered. Relatively new at her work, she had little experience in the field where her many sisters had much. She had been pestered and pushed by her siblings to take an assignment, which involved pushing Araquin, Princess of Thebes, to commit suicide. While not the most pleasant of assignments, it was certainly to be an easy task, since the Princess' lover had recently been murdered over a rivalry between suitors.

As Hermes came to his favored city and watched with growing amusement towards the quiet, witty Lythian, he began to feel pity towards Araquin, and posed himself to prevent the Princess' death. Lythian, who was posing as the Araquin's handmaid, felt a raw break of emotion course through her veins, as she felt the presence of a fellow immortal under the veil of a pleasant countryman. It was no surprise to her that the young Princess seemed once again joyful from the time of his entrance.

Whether it was jealousy or frustration that drove her, she made her last desperate attempt to convince Araquin of the Princess' futility in finding another such as her loved one, and that it would be best to end it now. Araquin was nearly convinced when Hermes, disguised as the countryman, delivered a single rose, the deepest shade of red, to her room. Such a simple gift filled Araquin's heart with such joy, that any though of departing this world left her mind completely. With newfound happiness, she raced to her father, intent on giving him a kiss.

Lythian knew that she had failed, and wept bitter tears of blood for the shame of failing such a simple task. Hermes, now having seen her out of disguise, felt a though his heart may burst at the vision of pure beauty and sadness painted before him. Dropping his own disguise, he knelt in front of the weeping beauty. Lythian quickly raised her eyes, and he found himself drowning in the blood that was here eyes.

Each bewitched by the others presence, they announced themselves, one after the other.

"I am the Feycian, Lythian, daughter and messenger of the wisest Fates."

"I am the Olympian, Hermes, son and messenger of the greatest of gods, Zeus."

Lythian felt only confusion, as she had never heard of such Olympians, and Hermes offered to take her to Olympus, where she would meet gods, but she refused. She could never go anywhere that was not approved by her mothers, the Fates. As she stood to go, he took and embraced her, telling Lythian that he had fallen in love with her the moment he'd seen her, like fate. Lythian admitted that it was the same for her, and that she would return to him the moment she could, and with that, she left.

Hermes then returned to Olympus, bearing the news of Lythian and the Fates daughters. All but Zeus accepted the news calmly. Enraged that the Fates had kept such a secret from him, and then hidden the identity of the Olympians from them. Shaking the earth with every step he took he went to the Farecian Caves, searching out the Feycians till he found them.

When he found them, he ordered them to drop to their knees and bow before him, for he was their king, and he ruled over them. They refused, saying that they were the only ones who ruled themselves. Enraged, he flew threw the caverns, killing every Feycian till the only one left was Lythian, who had dropped to her knees and begged her mother to save her, so that she may be with her new found love.

Rhea, hearing her prayers, appeared before Zeus and stopped him, just as he was about to strike Lythian, weeping at the sight of her children dead and gone. She told Zeus that he had done the unthinkable, and destroyed that which is bound by blood. As she wept on the heartless Zeus, driven mad by rage, she asked him to let Lythian see her beloved once more.

By the wish of his mother and nothing else, he grabbed Lythian and started towards Olympus. Rhea, however, had fooled him. Mothers' tears held great power among the gods, and she had used her tears to give her son the one thing no god should have: vulnerability. However, the only place she could manage was the underside of his earlobe. Hoping it would be enough, she swiftly sent the message the Hermes that her son was insane and was no longer fit to rule over the gods. Rhea told him of what she'd done, and told him the one problem: He had to be wounded by a mortal.

Hermes then appeared to Araquin, telling her that there was not much time, and begged her to help him save the one he loved. She quickly agreed, and he told her what to do. She was to stand in the field in front of Zeus' path and sing as softly as she could. Zeus, who loved the voice of a fair maiden, would stop to listen, and he did just that.

She was singing so softly that, he could not hear her so he bent down. As she sung more softly still, he bent down to get even closer. Such was the process until Zeus' ear was right next to her. At this point, she brought out the rose she had been given by Hermes and stabbed the king of gods right in the ear. So shocked was he that he died almost instantly.

The gods, no one really missing Zeus, went on about their business, later deciding that it was the fate of man to rule themselves, and melding in their affairs was nothing but trouble. Perhaps it is simply fate that the only thing that can rule one person, is to rule one's heart.


E-san: I don't even know why I am posting this story. My English teacher had assigned us to write our own Greek myth, and I was on a feministic rampage at the moment. But HEY! WHO CAN BLAME ME?! Zeus was just a womanizing loser from the start! He slept with and married his sisters!!! *screams in frustration* He deserved to die. So there. R&R!