Following the formation of their alliance, the two goddesses found themselves in the same boat, and the tension between them thawed significantly. The old grievances born of the conflict over Artemis and the creation of humanity were effectively wiped clean.
Hebe extended a warm invitation to Athena to linger at her sanctuary. Zeus's latest "hunting expedition" upon the earth would likely not conclude for several weeks, and having no pressing matters of her own, Athena accepted.
The two goddesses shared a rare period of idyllic peace upon the island of Samos. This was Hebe's sovereign domain, free from the convoluted schemes of Olympus; here, one need not worry about a deity leaping from the shadows to strike an underhanded blow. There was only boundless beauty, fresh nectar, and the meticulous service of the graceful Nymphs. Athena found herself so enchanted by the tranquility that she felt a pang of reluctance when it was finally time to depart.
Once Athena had gone, Hebe returned to her temple to resume her own brand of "divine industry." Being a deity had one distinct advantage: there was no need for food or sleep, and exhaustion was a foreign concept. She was a perpetual motion machine, dedicating every waking moment to the contemplation of the Laws.
Time held no meaning for the immortal. In what seemed like a heartbeat, twenty years drifted past.
Within the central hall of Samos, the golden-haired goddess and the dark-haired god sat facing one another, radiating two diametrically opposed currents of divine power.
Hebe's form surged with the sea-like majesty of Life. Her Domain of Life expanded, causing exotic flora to erupt from the stone beneath her, exhaling heavy, intoxicating fragrances. Butterflies and Flower Spirits danced within the light—a vision of breathtaking vitality.
Opposite her, Phagos of the obsidian-gold wings exuded a chilling, terrifying aura of Death. Within his Domain, a spectral Sun of the Dead cast a haunting glow, staining the frozen, pale landscape of the end with strokes of eerie color.
The two domains remained distinct, each claiming half the hall. Suspended between them was the Godhead of Reincarnation. Binary light flickered softly across its surface as it steadily drew power from both domains, absorbing and integrating the conflicting energies into itself.
Yet, despite the torrents of divine power poured into it, the Godhead showed no sign of growing in size. The only change was at its core: the once-microscopic speck of grey had now expanded to the size of a pea.
Gradually, the domains behind the two deities flickered and faded. Their divine radiance retracted, eventually vanishing into the air.
Hebe opened her eyes, catching the Godhead of Reincarnation in her palm. Seeing the shift within its core, a trace of satisfaction flashed in her purple eyes. She raised her hand and pressed the Godhead back into her heart for safekeeping.
"My Lady," Phagos said, his dark-gold eyes bright with hope. "At this rate, I believe you will be ready to shatter the barrier of the Primary Rank and ascend to the Primordial Realm in less than two centuries."
"..."
Hebe's expression remained stoic, her thoughts racing. Phagos watched her with confusion; while she knew everything her half-body experienced, he could not perceive her internal thoughts or emotions. This absolute hierarchy was the foundation of her trust in him.
"It is still too slow," Hebe murmured. "Eros's cursed Golden Arrows have begun to take effect. The curse upon the King has initiated, and the subsequent arrows will likely follow in rapid succession. Two centuries is a luxury we do not have..."
The "Extreme Beauty" Aphrodite had bestowed upon humanity was beginning to yield results. Under the protection of the gods, the human race had proliferated, establishing kingdoms and city-states across the land.
In a region known as Lerna, ruled by King Inachus, a princess named Io had inherited Aphrodite's blessing. She was a vision of loveliness, the most beautiful woman in the city-state.
She was also the first mark for the twelve Golden Arrows destined for Zeus. While she was tending her father's flocks on the plains of Lerna, her radiant beauty caught the eye of the Master of Clouds. The spark ignited by the arrow roared into a wildfire of passion.
The subsequent drama unfolded much like the legends of old. The King of Gods transformed into a mortal man to court the princess, seeking her heart. Just as he was making progress, fate intervened: his regal Queen, who rarely left the mountain, made a sudden, unprecedented descent to the mortal realm.
In truth, Hera had not come seeking a scandal. The evolution of her Godhead had shifted her perspective; Zeus's infidelities now provoked more irony than jealous rage. She had simply grown restless after decades without seeing Hebe and had decided to visit Samos.
However, as she passed a certain plain, she noticed a bizarre anomaly. Under a bright, scorching sun, a localized patch of land was shrouded in a thick, unnatural mist.
Hera sneered. She might have looked the other way, but for the transgression to happen directly in her path was an insult she could not ignore. Holding half the King's authority, she commanded the mist to disperse instantly.
Zeus, startled by his wife's arrival, panicked. In a desperate move to hide his "catch," he transformed his paramour into a snow-white heifer. Io's beauty was such that even as a cow, she remained sleek and striking.
Hera saw through the ruse immediately. She noted the terrified, bewildered look in the animal's eyes and knew it was another innocent girl lured in by Zeus's lies.
Feigning ignorance, Hera asked Zeus where he had found such a magnificent heifer and what its pedigree might be. Zeus offered a fawning smile, lying that it was a divine beast of pure breed.
Hera pretended to be delighted and asked for the creature as a gift. Zeus, finding no plausible reason to refuse, was forced to watch as Hera led Io away.
Leading the heifer, Hera glanced at the creature's stumbling, four-legged gait. A pathetic lie, she thought. Having attained a more tranquil state of mind, she held no grudge against Io. She knew Zeus was the Sovereign of Heaven and Earth; if she herself had once been unable to refuse him, how could a mortal girl?
Hera's initial thought was to lift the spell and send Io home. But she knew Zeus; he was persistent. If she released her now, he would be back to "sow his seeds" the moment Hera's back was turned.
Instead, she took Io to the territory of her loyal servant, Argus. The giant was a devoted follower, possessing a hundred eyes like shining stars. He needed only to close one pair to sleep; the rest remained open, vigilantly guarding the four horizons. He was the perfect warden.
I'll let Zeus's passion cool while I'm on Samos, then release her later, Hera decided. She left Io with Argus and continued her journey.
She underestimated the power of the Primordial curse within her husband. Deprived of Io, Zeus felt as though his heart were being scorched. The "love" was an agony he could not endure. Eventually, he summoned Hermes and ordered him to "rescue" Io.
Io's life under Argus was not one of torture. Though she could not escape, she was well-treated and waited for Hera's return. She never expected the God who had claimed her would send another to find her.
Hera had not traveled far before she felt the death of her servant. Argus had fallen to Hermes's blade. Her fury erupted. She could tolerate the theft of Io, but the murder of her loyal giant was a line she would not allow to be crossed.
As the Queen with half the King's power, thunder frequently answered her mood. She hurled bolts of lightning that sent Hermes fleeing in terror. Had it not been for his golden sandals, the Messenger would have been scorched to a crisp.
Driven into a corner by the relentless Queen, Hermes took the cow and fled to his father for sanctuary.
Zeus had not expected his "blundering" son to bring both the mistress and the wife directly to his doorstep. Facing the ultimate "killing field" of domestic crises, the King's mental fortitude remained iron-clad. He flashed a handsome smile, pulled Hera into his embrace, and poured out endearments as sweet as a lark's song. He begged her to be magnanimous and spare the girl.
Zeus solemnly swore by the River Styx that Io had never seduced him—she was innocent—and that he would renounce his pursuit of the princess forever.
Hera sneered internally. Word games. Of course Io hadn't seduced him; it was he who had coerced her. And renouncing the "love" was easy now that he had tasted the fruit and was ready for the next.
She lowered her eyes. Without the contract of marriage, would he discard me as easily as this girl? The thought was nauseating. If not for...
The white-armed goddess clenched her fists, her form stiffening.
Zeus, sensing her tension, assumed she was truly heartbroken. A rare surge of genuine pity touched his heart. He stroked her ivory arm and whispered, "Hera, my glorious wife... you must know you are the only one I truly love. Who else could command half my throne? This was my error, and Hermes did not intend to slay your servant. Let us do this: I shall take his brilliant eyes and set them upon the tail of your sacred Peacock. It shall make the bird more magnificent, as befits the Queen of Heaven."
Invoking his power, Zeus took the eyes of the fallen Argus and branded them as mystical patterns onto the peacock's plumage. The bird flew to its mistress and unfurled its tail; the hundred eye-shaped markings were hauntingly beautiful, radiating a captivating, cryptic majesty.
"...Very well. Send her back to the mortal world," Hera said after a long silence. She pulled away from his embrace and left the temple without looking back.
Zeus rejoiced, his mind still clouded by the magic of the arrow. He failed to wonder why the usually possessive and jealous Hera had suddenly become so accommodating. He quickly restored Io to her human form and had Hermes escort her home. To compensate her for her suffering, he granted her territory along the Nile, making her the Queen of that land.
Back in the Temple of Marriage, Hera stroked the peacock's feathers, her purple eyes dark and contemplative.
At the same time, within the Temple of Love, the child Eros—still prone to long slumbers due to his forced birth—shivered. A sweet, angelic smile spread across his face, as if he were dreaming a dream of nectar.
It was not an illusion; his small form seemed to grow just a fraction larger...
On Samos, having missed her mother's visit, Hebe was still calculating how to accelerate her ascension. At her current level, she was not certain she could defeat Zeus, let alone a restored Eros. Athena had made it clear that the King held far more "trump cards" than he revealed.
Phagos suddenly looked up, his expression shifting into a smile.
"My Lady, news that will please you. My manifestation in the Underworld reports that the stars being fostered by Lady Nyx are about to be born. The Goddess shall soon descend upon Olympus to negotiate their mandates. If we secure the aid of the Star-Network, our ascension will hasten significantly."
The stars are coming?
Hebe's mind flashed back to the glimpse she had caught of a particular planet within the nebula.
For that one, she would settle for nothing less than absolute possession.