In the Great Hall between the large pillars of marble, in front of a great throne of pure gold, they stood side by side, small and fragile, before the giant form of the King.
‘Poseidon said we should appeal to you for help.’ said Rhiannon meekly, staring up into the kindly face of the King of the Gods.
‘There is nothing I can do,’ said Zeus. ‘These Demi-Gods have become greedy and corrupt, and they will destroy themselves and this entire world.’ he said sadly, stroking the beard that trailed down his chest. ‘They are disposable.’
‘But we haven’t!’ exclaimed Rhiannon. ‘We are not greedy, we do not rebel!’
Zeus nodded slowly, a wan smile on his lips.
‘Yes, I know,’ he said. ‘And so it is with your help, and the rest of the Gods that have been trying to fight against the Rebellion that we shall form a new Kingdom, on a new world, as it has been before in the past, and as it will be again, in some future.’
Rhiannon covered her face, trying to hide the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She crouched to the ground, to conceal the despair that wracked her thin frame. The king’s large hand reached down and embraced Rhiannon gently, scooping her up and slightly off the floor.
‘But that’s ridiculous!’ shouted Luke upwards to reach the Gods’ ears. ‘You can just give up and forget about this! You can just ignore this and just sweep it under the carpet and move on as if nothing happened!’ he cried. ‘You can’t just abandon a whole planet!’ he shook his fists in anger up towards Zeus’s head which towered above them.
Zeus’s eyes flashed. ‘I can, and I will!’ he thundered, taking the free hand that wasn’t wrapped protectively around Rhiannon and with a giant thumb and forefinger flicked Luke, sending him crashing into a nearby pillar.
Rhiannon removed her hands from her face. ‘Stop that!’ she screamed. ‘Don’t hurt him!’ she stomped her foot into Zeus’s palm on which she stood. ‘He hasn’t done anything wrong!’ she yelled, wiping the last few tears from her eyes with her palm.
Luke slowly started to get up, brushing chunks of marble off himself and shaking debris from his hair.
Zeus brought the hand Rhiannon was standing on up to his face. She grabbed onto his thumb to keep from falling over. ‘Do you dare tell me, Zeus, King of the Gods what to do?’ he spat with contempt.
‘You can’t go hurting people like that!’ she said, standing her guard. She brushed a stray piece of hair that had fallen across her face out of her eyes. ‘And he’s right,’ she said. ‘You can’t just give up on all the people on this planet, and all the Demi-Gods who help you and all the other Gods and Goddesses. We aren’t worthless things, we are living beings!’ she shouted, though she was now just feet from his large nose and dark piercing eyes.
His eyes gleamed, a look of pure malevolence filled them, darkening them further. ‘I,’ he said, his voice filling the whole of the Great Hall, ‘can do whatever I wish’. He picked up Rhiannon by the hood of her silvery cloak, holding her suspended over his palm. She kicked and twisted, trying to wriggle free of her garments that were twisting even tighter around her as she moved.
Far below, Luke grabbed a large chunk of marble broken from the pillar he had been thrown into. Throwing it with his super human strength he flung it as hard as he could into Zeus’s exposed foot.
Zeus roared, enraged. ‘You think you are of value?’ he screamed. ‘You are insignificant, you are worthless! You are just pawns, all of you. You are false-Gods, simply here to do my bidding!’ Zeus rose from his throne, standing at full height, his head almost brushing the ceiling of the massive hall atop the mountain.
Incensed, and without thinking, Rhiannon, still holding tightly to Zeus’s thumb for stability, bit down hard on the fleshy tip of the giant thumb. Zeus screamed, and flung Rhiannon off his hand, as if swatting an annoying insect away. She flew through the air, screaming not from fear but out of shock. The floor rushed up to meet her at a dizzying speed. She closed her eyes, bracing for the impact that would surely kill her, part human that she was. A few seconds passed and she slowly opened her eyes. She was lying on the ground, not the hard slick marble of the Great Hall, but soft green grass covered earth.
Rhiannon looked up and saw Luke heading towards her across the grass. The marble pillars and the golden throne of the Great Hall were gone. She stood up shakily, adjusting her dress. They were in the middle of a large field. ‘Where’s my horse?’ asked Rhiannon, confused and shaken. ‘And what happened?’ she said as Luke reached her. He shrugged. ‘Don’t know. I’ve tried to contact my father but I can’t hear him.’
‘Could you try contacting my mother for me?’ asked Rhiannon. ‘Like I said, I didn’t inherit strong telepathy abilities’.
Luke closed his eyes and stood still for a moment. Opening his eyes he shook his head. ‘Nothing.’
Rhiannon turned around slowly, looking around again. ‘Where are we anyway?’. She pointed to a small wooden house a few hundred yards away. ‘Lets go see if we can find out what’s happened. Maybe if there is someone home they might be able to tell us what’s going on.’ They started making their way through the tall grass. ‘At least its stopped snowing and the thunderstorms are gone,’ said Rhiannon, lifting her long dress up to keep it getting wet from the damp grass.
Moments later they stood in front of a small rounded door with a large iron knocker. Rhiannon lifted it up and let it fall. It hit the door with a hollow thud. They waited anxiously for a few moments, with no answer. Luke walked to the side of the house where there was a small dirty window and peered in. It was dim and cluttered but he could make out a figure slouched in a chair, a blanket resting over the persons’ lap. He gently tapped the window and the body in the chair gave a start. The face of a withered old woman peered with small beady eyes. He gestured in the direction of the front door. The woman pushed herself up from her chair and teetered slowly toward the door. Luke went back and joined Rhiannon on the stoop. Momentarily, the door creaked open a crack and the same small, bright eyes appeared. ‘Yes?’ asked a dusty, fragile voice.
‘Hi,’ said Rhiannon positioning herself more fully in front of the sliver of an opening. ‘I’m Rhiannon’.
‘Yes?’ repeated the woman in a raspy voice. Rhiannon went on, ‘I am a demi-Goddess, daughter of-’ but before she could say anymore, the old woman cackled loudly, clutching her chest as a fit of wheezing came on. The woman spluttered and coughed, continuing to laugh in between large wheezing gasps for breath. ‘A Goddess?’ the woman croaked before more wheezing took her. ‘A Goddess?’ she repeated hoarsely. ‘And I assume this here young man is saying he’s a God then?’
Luke stepped in front of the door which was now open slightly wider. ‘Demi god actually,’ he politely corrected.
The woman burst into fresh peals of laughter, staggering back from the door. Rhiannon rushed forward and grabbed an arm to steady the woman, steering her towards her small armchair.
‘Yes,’ continued Rhiannon, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice. ‘As I said, I’m Rhiannon, and this is Luke,’ she said straightening up once the woman was safely sitting down.
The woman sat, hand on her chest, trying to compose herself. ‘Well, I have never heard of anything so ridiculous in my life!’ she said. ‘There are no such things as Gods and Goddesses. That’s all just fantasy nonsense.’
Luke and Rhiannon stood and stared at each other as the old woman got up and teetered off further into her house still laughing to herself.
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About the Author:
Caitlin McColl has been writing stories as soon as she learned how to read and write. As a young girl and in her teenage years she wrote many short stories, mostly fantasy - with dragons and wizards and other fantastical monsters. She still loves fantasy and in her most recent works, Under A Starlit Sky, All About Eve, its prelude, and her upcoming novel The Clockwork Universe (https://www.theclockworkuniverse.com), all involve aspects of fantasy or the supernatural, mixed in with our real world - no dragons or
fairies or wizards here! Yet...something slightly different. A different perspective. With fantasy injected into stories involving our world (your world), it makes it easier to imagine yourself there. Because they, the characters, are normal, down-to-earth people just like yourself - but something is...different.
She has a short story published in an anthology called Write For Japan (https://www.writeforjapan.com) to help aid Japan after the devastating earthquake and tsunami in March 2011.
Contact Me Online at:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/arrawyn
My blog: https://www.underastarlitsky.com/blog.html
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