The Unyielding Skies

Tempestas had received prayers for fair weather and been ridiculed for causing storms since the dawn of civilization. One day she stopped caring and sat on a ledge of Mount Olympus. With closed eyes and an empty mind, the only sound she made was steady rhythmic breathing. She had practiced her meditation with out a break for two years now.

Her peaceful mind resulted in calm, sunny weather for the mortals below. It had been months since anyone had seen a cloud, heard thunder, or even felt a cool breeze on their face. Instead, they were cursed with idle sunny days with no change.

At first, the pleasant weather led many to rejoice. They paid tribute to Tempestas for blessing them with a mild winter. They celebrated the warmth and were happy to do their tasks without the worry of a storm.

Now they prayed to Tempestas and only Tempestas. They prayed that she would let them have rain. Even a day of rain would give them hope. Their lives had become so dry, and the crops would not grow without the water. Sickness and madness began to move through the world.

Tempestas still remained focused on the schedule she had created. She was at one with herself completely separated from the worries of the world. Her power only grew stronger with the sacrifices and offerings. She had never received so much attention, and It made her feel needed.

With all the humans praying to Tempestas, the other Gods of Olympus grew jealous and weak. They talked among themselves to discover a solution.

Apollo was the first to approach Her. He attempted to use the power of logic. He broke Tempestas from her meditative state and posed a series of questions. He tried to guide her to the logical conclusion of giving water to the mortals. She showed no emotion and remained stoic through their exchange.

“Mortals are not Gods.” He started.

“Yes, that is true.” She replied.

“And if Mortals are not Gods, they can die.”

“This is also true.”

“They can die of many things, including lack of food and water.”

“This is true.”

“Since you control the weather, you control the rain.”

“Yes, that is true.”

“So, in a sense, you control the water they need to drink and to grow food.”

“Yes, this is also true.”

“Gods need the mortals to pray to them so they can have their power.”

“So, it is said yes.”

“If all the Mortals die, we will not receive any prayers, and we will lose our power.”

“It is possible, yes.”

“So, will you give the mortals rain?”

“No.”

Apollo was stunned by her response. He had used logical reasoning, and she should have seen the logic in his argument.

“Why not?” Asked Apollo

“As you said, we Gods get our power from the prayers of the mortals. Since I have stopped giving rain, I have received more prayers than you and the other Gods combined. I do not intend to withhold the rain forever. Only until the scheduled time has passed.”

Apollo wanted to argue her point, but he could not find a fault in her logic. He left Tempestas to her meditations and reported his defeat to the other Gods.

Asclepius was the next to approach Tempestas. He was confident in his ability to change her mind. He had once been a mortal doctor. He had knowledge and stories about the pain and suffering the humans faced.

He approached the stoic Tempestas and pleaded with her. He told her the pain one felt from the pit of hunger in one's stomach. The choking feeling one got from a dry throat. He told the accounts of the pleas and lamentations of dying children. Tempesta's face did not change.

“Tell me, Asclepius, you were a mortal doctor before becoming a God?”

“Yes, I was.” He replied with pride.

“And as a doctor, you witnessed the suffering of many, many humans?”

“The memories haunt me even to this day.”

“And can you tell me what the main cause was of so much suffering?”

Asclepius hesitated. He knew the answer, and he could see her logic.

“Please answer me, Asclepius.”

“It was greed and envy of other humans.”

“Thank you for giving me your firsthand knowledge.”

Tempestas remained stoic, her voice airy and monotone. “I agree with you that rain is needed, but I have a schedule, and I will remain to the schedule. Not all humans will die, and the ones that live will have more than ever before.”

Asclepius wanted to scream. The pain of morality, though distant, was still a constant companion. Tempestas had always been a Goddess. She had never known hunger, she had never felt thirst, she had never had to mourn a dead child. He pleaded with her as if he were still a mortal himself.

“I will stick with my schedule.” Is all she would say.

Once Apollo And Asclepius had both failed, Ares decided it was time for a more direct tactic. He donned his armor, secured his sword to his waist, and secured his shield and spear.

With the world in such a state of stagnant suffering, humans had not sent prayers to the God of war. Their lives were painful enough, and they were too weak to wage war against one another. Ares' weapons and armor were heavy as a result.

He struggled to climb to the ledge where Tempestas sat. When he arrived, he was winded and had to lean on his spear to avoid falling over. He spoke in short, harsh gasps to Tempestas.

“Tempestas!” he gasped. “Give the humans water!” He began to straighten. “If you don’t, I will kill you!” A sinister smile formed on his face with the last words.

Tempestas looked at Ares without so much as a flinch. She stood up gracefully and walked up Mount Olympus to the next ledge.

Ares’ anger grew, he followed her to the higher ledge but had to leave behind his helmet and shield. They were too heavy for his weakened muscles.

He met her at the new ledge. Doubled over, he gasped for air with both hands braced on his knees. Again, he threatened her through his wheezes. Again, Tempestas did not respond. She stood and walked further up Mount Olympus.

Furious, Ares removed his armor and dropped the sword from his belt. They were too heavy for his weakened muscles. His spear became a cane as he limped further up the mountain after the stoic Tempestas.

When he reached her, he clung to his spear for balance. He wheezed and gasped, and before he could threaten Tempestas a third time. She walked over to the weak, hunched God of war and kicked his spear out from under him.

Ares fell at her feet in a mass of useless bronze. Tempestas spoke, her voice was not angry or annoyed. Her emotions were under control, and she spoke in an even manner.

“Ares, you have come to threaten me. You have come to make me fear you. You have tried to use power. Power that you do not have. To make me change my mind.” She stared down at the weak God of war as he rolled to his back and raised his hands in fear. “It may bring you pleasure to know that you have succeeded. I will change my schedule and wait another year before giving rain to the humans.”

Ares did not respond. He hid behind his hands and clenched his body, preparing for a strike that never came. When he opened his eyes, he saw Tempestas walking away using his spear as a staff. She walked further up the mountain with ease.

He turned in defeat and joined the other Gods. The Gods sat silently as they withered before each other’s eyes. They had tried logic with no success, they had attempted reason and pity with no change. They had finally retorted with violence and were made a mockery of.

During this time, Aphrodite began to age. Without the prayers from mortal lovers, she was susceptible to time like any woman. She needed the pleas of desperate men and women to maintain her beauty.

In times of great thirst and hunger, few have time for love. Fewer who wanted to tempt destiny and have a child. She decided that a change must be made for her own sake.

She packed a bag with supplies and climbed to meet Tempestas. The bag was light and did not cause her great pain to carry. She wore a simple tunic, beautiful opal earrings, and a smile. As she approached Tempestas, she called out in a pleasant voice.

“What a beautiful day it is today, Thank you sister for making the weather so agreeable.”

“You’re welcome,” Tempestas replied without opening her eyes or moving from her meditation.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“You are free to do so.”

“Thank you,” Aphrodite said as she tumbled down beside Tempestas with relief.

They sat together for hours, and neither said a word. Tempestas, with her eyes closed, peered inward. Aphrodite, with her eyes open, stared out over the world.

After some time, Aphrodite opened her bag and took out her comb. She began to comb her hair and hum to herself. Tempestas opened an eye and stared at her sister. She was not annoyed or angry, only curious.

“I have to comb it every day, my hair is not as well-mannered and beautiful as yours,” Aphrodite explained as she tossed the waterfall of auburn hair over her shoulders.

Tempestas closed her eye and responded. “I have always liked your hair.”

“Oh, stop! I would do anything to trade these red curls for the shine of your black straight hair.” Aphrodite gave a playful touch to her sister’s shoulder as she gave the compliment. “Could I comb your hair?”

Tempestas’ eyes both shot open. A tiny cloud formed in the distance. Aphrodite pretended not to notice and smiled sweetly. “Please?” Aphrodite said, “It will be so nice to try something new for once.” Without waiting for a response, She sat behind her sister and began to comb her beautiful dark hair.

Aphrodite could feel Tempestas’ heart beat faster. She made long raking strokes through her midnight-colored hair. “You know I have never seen how perfect your ears are.” Aphrodite said, “I have such lousy ears I don’t have lobes and if I try wearing earrings it just makes me feel silly.”

“Oh, shut up, you do not.” Tempestas replied with a hint of a smile and a whisper of a laugh. The cloud in the distance grew larger. Not by much, but enough for the Goddess of love to notice.

“It’s true! You got the good ears from Dad. I had to fight for these scraps from Mom.” She said as she pointed to her ears. “In fact, it’s a shame that you never wear earrings. Here, try these on.” Aphrodite said as she removed the opal earrings and held them before Tempestas.

“I can’t,” Tempestas replied, gracious but nervous.

“Says who? You’re the most powerful God on this mountain.” Aphrodite said as she raised Tempestas’ hand and dropped the earrings into her palm. Aphrodite closed her long, slender fingers over the rough hands of her sisters. She returned to combing her hair.

“Try them on.” Aphrodite coaxed. “The opals with this raven hair would look divine.”

Tempestas bit her lower lip. Her heart beat faster. Her hands shook as she hooked the earrings through her lobes. The sun grew brighter, warmer, and beautiful. White clouds started to paint themselves on the blue sky.

“How? How do I look?” Tempestas asked with a soft, gentle voice.

“Oh honey, you’re beautiful. Don’t move.” Aphrodite fished in her bag without looking away from the radiant face of Tempestas. Her hand found what it was looking for. She wrapped her fist tight around the handle. She drew it from the bag in a flash. The speed was so fast that Tempestas didn’t have time to stop the attack from happening.

There, In front of Tempestas, was her own beautiful face. Her long black hair shined in the sun as it flowed over her tanned shoulders. Her big dark eyes stared into themselves. Their gaze then fell on the Opal earrings on her small, delicate ears. She was stunning.

“You’re beautiful sister.” Aphrodite whispered in a choked voice. Her own face contorted to hold back tears. The emotion was too much Tempestas cried. The sun continued to shine, but rain fell for seven days, wrapping the world in a rainbow.