2.12: The First Mission

Location: Attica

Time Remaining: 15 years

Athena stood on a rise overlooking Piraeus and Moschato, which sat on either side of the mouth of Cephissus’s river in Attica.

“I have a number of missions for you, my friend,” Athena said to the owl perched on her shoulder, “But your first mission will be something very personal. An old friend of yours is in need of help, though she does not know it.”

“Hoo?” The owl cried.

2.11: The Gift of Athena

Location: Attica, Eastern Coast

Time Remaining: 16 Years

Nemesis carried the body away from the farmlands - she didn't want the widow finding his corpse the next time they plowed the fields, so she headed to the nearby forest and collected wood for a pyre.

"How do you feel?" Nemesis heard the voice again, but this time she recognized it.

2.10: The Goddess of Rhamnous

Location: Attica, Eastern Coast

Time Remaining: 16 Years

Nemesis had gone to Tartarus partly hoping that the masters of the underworld would be able to spare her from the pregnancy that Zeus had inflicted upon her, but Hades had been unable to do anything about it - if either of the parents had been mortal, perhaps, but with god-blood from both sides, there was nothing conventional to be done. As Nemesis's due date came closer, he did come up with a risky alternative involving an egg (for lack of a better word), that allowed Zeus's offspring to be removed from Nemesis and birthed by a surrogate mother devoted to Persephone.

2.09: The Kindness of Persephone

Location: The Fifth Gate of Tartarus

Time Remaining: 25 Years

It was the virtue of compassion that had betrayed Nemesis in the end; Zeus and Aphrodite had staged a trap to capitalize on the weakness, and Nemesis ran into it blindly. After Zeus left there was pain, of course, both tangible and intangible. That was at the front of Nemesis's mind. There was also despair, at being cast aside and abandoned by her master, conflicting with fear that he might yet decide to come back and continue where he left off. Nemesis was also dragged down by humiliation and anger with herself, a carefully forged killer who’d somehow become a compassionate fool bleeding on the carpet. When she recovered from Aphrodite’s poison, Nemesis had gone outside and waited for Andesidora to return. She couldn’t bear to go back into the house, so she stayed outside that night, waiting. She sat and waited for a day and a half, but Andesidora never returned.

2.08: Dead End

Location: Greece

Other gods would certainly have balked at serving a human in this way, but Nemesis’s life had been one of service and hardwork. She’d always forsaken luxury, as well, so a servant’s bed was more than comfortable to her. She cleaned and cooked – fortunately two centuries of infiltrations and stake outs had taught her some basic domestic skills, and Andesidora was forgiving of any mistakes. Although Nemesis had to work long days, Andesidora shared her meals generously, and Nemesis regained much of her health and fitness. Eventually, Andesidora tasked Nemesis with work related to her apothecary practice, sending her trade or forage for ingredients, showing her all the ways they could be utilized, and building upon Nemesis’s not insubstantial knowledge of medicine.

2.07: Regret

Location: Greece

Nemesis didn’t fly far. Not at first, anyway. She lingered about the town in the form of an owl, watching as Hera saw to the burning of her temple. She watched Echo weep in grief and frustration before being hauled away by Hera’s titan-kin ally. Nemesis wanted to help her, but for now she was alive, and any further action on her part would almost certainly end up getting the woman killed. Nemesis flew onto her next closest temple, and found it had already been torn down by one of Zeus’s allies. She went onto another, and another, hopping from one island to the next, but what she found was always the same – her temples had been burned down. Her followers had been driven off or, in some cases, outright killed, and Nemesis’s heart sank, feeling their loss viscerally.

2.06: Power

Location: Temple of Nemesis

Nemesis didn’t have as many temples as the other gods, or as grand of temples. The punisher of hubris and righter of injustices had fewer regular worshippers, barely more than a cult. Though small in number, they could be quite devoted, however, and the devotion of gods and goddesses’ worshippers energized them, so Nemesis flew to her nearest temple – a place of worship near the mouth of the Cephissus river. The temple’s priestess, Echo, immediately came out and prostrated herself before Nemesis.

“Praise Nemesis, Dark Avenger of Olympus, how may we serve you?”

“I am being hunted by Zeus,” Nemesis explained, “I need to recover my strength.”

“Then you shall have our thoughts and prayers,” Echo said, “Please, Lady Nemesis, join us in the chapel, and let your worshippers tend to your injuries, physical and nonphysical.”

Echo led her into the temple’s main chamber. It was largely dark, save for strategically located sconces that illuminated her statue and a series of murals across the walls. The murals told Nemesis’s story – she’d been plucked from darkness by Hera herself and granted a portion of Zeus’s power as an infant. She’d been raised on an isolated island southwest of Crete, where she’d fought for survival, every day, until she was a powerful and hardened warrior. Then she’d been sent out among the people of Greece to ferret out heretics and punish wrong-doers.

The handful of people worshipping inside flocked around her, begging for her to intervene in one injustice or another, but when they discerned her weakened state they brought her offerings of food and wine, and began performing ritual demonstrations of their dedication. Nemesis sat down on a lion fur and ate slowly, wanting to show her worshippers that she was grateful for their sacrifices. As the night went on, the worshippers retired to their homes, leaving Nemesis alone with Echo.

“My lady,” Echo said, “What do you mean when you say you are hunted by Zeus?”

“I showed mercy to a mortal,” Nemesis explained, “Zeus and Hera ordered me to terrorize a heretic’s child. I spared the child’s life, and my master’s stripped me of my station. I am no longer the goddess of divine retribution. Truthfully, I ought not to be here. In asking for your supplication tonight, I misled you.”

Echo seemed stunned by the revelation, but eventually recovered. “You showed mercy to the child?”

“Yes, essentially.”

“And the child was innocent, not accountable for its parents’ sins?”

“The child was a toddler, so certainly not responsible.”

“Then what alternative did you have but to spare the child’s life?” Echo asked, “Wouldn’t any other course of action have been unjust? And are you not the deliverer of justice? Justice without mercy or compassion… that would only be revenge, wouldn’t it?”

“But Zeus decides what justice is and is not,” Nemesis said uncertainly.

“Does he, though?” Echo said, “Because I feel like goddess who spares an innocent baby’s life may be a better judge of right and wrong than the god who condemns it to death.”

Nemesis looked at her with surprise.

“Of course, I realize that saying that qualifies as heresy against Zeus…”

“Maybe…” Nemesis shrugged, “But that’s not my responsibility anymore. Say whatever you wish – I have no obligation or authority to punish you for your words.”

“Well, the truth is…” Echo took a breath, “From everything I’ve heard, Zeus and Hera are cruel and vain. But that does not seem to be the case for all gods, which makes me think that Zeus and Hera’s actions are not indicative of a divine morality independent of my mortal sensibilities. It makes me think that they are simply terrible people, who by luck of birth are unaccountable for sins that would see a mortal man or woman stoned to death in the streets.”  

“You believe that you, a human being, are morally superior to Zeus, a god?”

“Zeus ordered you to perform an immoral act, correct?” Echo said.

“Because he is Zeus, any command he gives is moral, by definition.”

“A god is moral because he does morally good things, and the things he does are morally good because he’s a god; isn’t that circular logic?”

“I don’t see the problem with that,” Nemesis said, “The circle is the most divine of all shapes, and gods are no more accountable to human logic than to human morality.”

“But you’re not human,” Echo pressed, “You’re a goddess; what seems right to you?”

Nemesis found that surprisingly difficult to answer, and before she could invent a response, their attention was drawn to the front of the temple by a brilliant blue-green light filtering through from the outside.

“What is that?” Echo asked.

“Hera,” Nemesis frowned, “She’s probably decided to help Zeus.”

“Is it possible that she’s here to mediate a peaceful resolution to your conflict?” Echo asked.

“I suppose it’s possible…”

“Then I will try to discern her intentions,” Echo said, “If she’s here with malicious intent, go out the back of the temple and flee. I will delay her.”

“I can’t send you out there. If she’s here at Zeus’s behest, she’ll use your life as leverage; kill you if I don’t surrender.”

“If she intends violence, you will not prevail. You aren’t strong enough to face her yet,” Echo said honestly, “And I am your priestess. I swore my life to your service when I took up that mantle. What more could I ask for than to save the life of my god?”

“But I told you,” Nemesis said, “I’ve been stripped of my station at the Constellar Palace.”

“But not in this temple,” Echo said as she headed outside, “Here you are still the goddess of divine retribution, and my pledge to you is undying.”

Outside, Hera waited with a small contingent of human soldiers, and a handsome man who was unmistakably of Titan descent.

Echo prostrated herself before Hera, “How can I serve my Lady?”

“I am here for the goddess of your temple, Nemesis.”

“As are all who are welcomed in this temple,” Echo said, “We’ve concluded our services for the evening, but we could surely make an exception for you…”

“I’m not here to pray to her, simpleton.”

“You believe she is here incarnate?”

“Of course I do, why else would I be here?”

“What do you wish to speak to her about?”

“That is none of your concern, mortal,” Hera said.

“I’m bound to serve my goddess to the best of my ability – if she is here, I must announce her visitors properly.”

“I’m her queen, not a visitor.”

“But you are visiting,” Echo said, “Doesn’t that make you a visitor?”

“Don’t play word games with me, fool.”

“A thousand pardons. If my lady is here to play a game, she may certainly choose the sport.”

“I’m not here to play a game!” Hera shouted, “I’m not here to talk! I am here to find Nemesis, and drag her back to the Constellar Palace screaming, so that she can bear Lord Zeus children!”

“I’m so sorry,” Echo said, “I had always been led to believe that you were Zeus’s wife…”

“I am! And I always will be!”

“Will you? If you bring him another goddess to bear children for him, isn’t he likely to leave you?”

“LEAVE ME?!” Hera shouted, “He wouldn’t dare?”

“I forget my lady; are you Zeus’s second wife or his third wife?”

“I am… wait… Gah!” Hera cried in frustration, “You’re stalling. You’re trying to distract me!” She grabbed echo’s head between her hands. Hera’s right index finger grew longer and thinner, and snaked into the woman’s left ear.

Echo screamed as the goddesses appendage bored through her ear canal, “NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING! NO, PLEASE!”

“You talk too much,” Hera said, “Shut up.” A final thrust of her finger caused Echo’s body to fall into a seizure. Hera pulled out her finger and flicked the blood off of it as it returned to normal size.

Echo collapsed to the ground, staring at her attacker. She tried to scream, to curse, to shout, but all she could say was, “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up,” in an endless loop.

“Burn the temple,” Hera ordered her men, “Gather wood if need be and douse it with oil from the amphorae inside. I want the whole building razed to the ground.”

“Razed to the ground!” Echo cried.

The five men who’d accompanied Hera marched into the temple, but found that it was completely dark – the sconces had been extinguished, and it almost seemed as something sapped the remaining light from the room as they entered.

Nemesis, had heard what happened outside, and she hadn’t run. Concealed by the darkness, she slipped around behind the man who was closest to the entrance. She grabbed him, wrapping her right arm around his throat, and pulling his sword from his belt with her left as she used the talons on her feet to slash the backs of his legs, between the bottom of his leather tassets and the tops of his sandals. She released him, and the man fell to the ground screaming. The other men raised their simple weapons – they’d come armed to deal with worshippers, not a goddess.

Nemesis calmly killed three of the men as they flailed blindly in the dark. Each one that she killed made her feel stronger, more powerful. The fifth man was the titankin who’d accompanied Hera. He’d be stronger, tougher, than any mortal man, and that was assuming that he hadn’t learned any of their ancestors more spectacular abilities.

Still, Nemesis felt better, stronger than she had in days. She channeled the energy she’d stolen from the light in the room and struck the man with a writhing blue tendril of electricity. He yelped and jumped back. He tried to circle around and counterattack, but the erratic motion of the blinding lightning whip in the darkness made it next to impossible for him to discern her actual location in the room. She lashed him repeatedly until he fell to his knees, and Nemesis wrapped the pulsing whip around his neck. It shocked him, again and again, until she uncast the whip. As the writhing blue energy dissipated, the man fell flat on his face, unconscious.

Nemesis marched out the temple door, spreading and flexing her wings. Hera saw her and began to wheel about on Echo, who was still on the ground, but Nemesis flicked a small bolt of lightning in Hera’s path, causing her to jump back.

“Echo, run,” Nemesis said.

Echo stumbled to her feet, repeating “Run, run, run!” as she sprinted away, leaving Nemesis alone with Hera.

“What did you do to her?” Nemesis asked.

“I just re-trained her mind to process information more… simply,” Hera said, “Don’t you remember me doing the same to you as a child? No, of course you wouldn’t. Well, needless to say, my work on you was much more refined.”

Nemesis lunged forward, striking with her talons. They were strong and sharp enough to cut almost any gods natural skin, but Hera used her shapeshifting abilities to cover her arms in a thick, hard, horn-like substance. Hera grew spikes from the natural armor that she slashed at Nemesis with, and when her reach proved too short, she stretched the armor out to form mantis-like scything blades.

Nemesis couldn’t match Hera’s shape-shifting abilities, but she was a more experienced fighter, who’d killed more than her fair share of monsters. She ducked and dodged, spun and rolled, and took Hera by surprise with a slash of her talons that caught Hera in the small of her back, splattering hot god-blood across the ground.

“Careful child,” Hera smiled, “You’re making me crabby!” Hera covered herself with a bony, spiked exoskeleton, her forearms growing into a pair of large pincers that she snapped at Nemesis. Nemesis began snapping small bolts of lightning at her from just out of reach, delivering painful shocks that crawled across and under her carapace, then jumped on her from behind, digging her claws into her joints and delivering stronger jolts of electricity.

Hera withdrew her armor plates in favor of slimy, scaled, eel skin, her eyes turning round and black. Nemesis plunged her talons into the soft skin, but her stored electricity drained rapidly and Hera knocked her away with a surge of strength.

“You can’t destroy the one who made you, foolish girl,” Hera said. “Now, come along peacefully before I have to start trying.”

Nemesis lunged at Hera again. Hera manifested her exoskeleton again, but Nemesis grabbed both sides of Hera’s heads and plunged the long, sharp thumb talons into her eyes. Hera screamed and knocked her away. She created four lidless eyes above the two Nemesis had destroyed, but she was too late – Nemesis had fled into the night.

2.05: Sunrise

Location: Temple of Apollo

Time Remaining: 31 years

It was dawn when Nemesis reached Apollo’s temple. She swooped up under one of the eaves and perched on the edge of one of the stone columns, where the roof did not rest squarely on the column’s top. Now what? She wondered.

She’d defied Zeus when she’d spared the child, spurned his advances, attacked him, and now she’d run from her punishment as well. Nemesis had hunted many heretics at Zeus’s behest, but none who’d done so much as she now had, had ever been afforded forgiveness or mercy. Death was the best case scenario, now – more probably, she’d be sealed away in one of Tartarus’s sarcophagi and condemned to an eternity of torment in one of its nightmare worlds.

But isn’t that what she deserved? Zeus was her lord and master, ultimate arbiter of right and wrong, and she’d defied him. Perdition was the fate she deserved. So why was it that she still hadn’t simply flown back to the Constellar Palace and surrendered herself? Why was she so driven to prolong the inevitable?

She’d served the gods for roughly two centuries. Generations of human beings had come and gone in that time, so it seemed strange to Nemesis that she would suddenly be so determined to prolong her life. Perhaps, she thought, the reason she was so reluctant to let go of her life was the uncertainty. The humans believed they knew what was coming for them, and some of them structured their lives around that expectation. Nemesis didn’t have the benefit of that certainty. In fact, until just now, she’d not given too much thought to what would await her if or when she reached the limit of her immortality.

Contrary to what most humans believed, one did not automatically travel to the underworld when they died, no matter what their relatives did with their bodies to mark their passing. One had to be taken to the underworld by a servant of Mt. Olympus. 

Some of the humans residing in the underworld were there either because of a random lottery maintained by Demeter and Hades, or due to an allegation of minor heresy. When someone’s number was up, or when they were declared an irredeemable threat to the people’s faith, an agent like Nemesis would be sent to retrieve the person, abducting them from their lives and sealing them away in one of Tartarus’s ancient sarcophagi, where their minds would enter a dream world the humans described as the Asphodel Meadows. In the sarcophagi, the human’s body would survive almost indefinitely.

Those humans closest to the gods, either by relation or favor, were sometimes taken to the underworld when death was imminent or very recent. These individuals found themselves in the dream world of Elysium, where they would live on eternally as pets and servants to the gods and titans who had retired there. The most unfortunate humans, though, were those who’d managed to outright enrage one of the gods – these individuals were interred in nightmare worlds, designed by Zeus himself, to torment his enemies for all of eternity.

Most humans simply died, though, never setting foot in the underworld before or after. This was now Nemesis’s best option. At one time, if she’d thought about it, she might have expected to retire to Elysium when she could no longer serve the gods in the physical world, but now the nightmarish prisons of the titans who’d opposed Zeus hundreds of years ago seemed a much more likely destination.

A roll of thunder announced Zeus’s arrival. Artemis’s attempt to conceal Nemesis’s escape had given her time to fly to the temple, but only just barely.

Two of Apollo’s priests walked out of the temple to greet the Lord of Olympus. They all but threw themselves on the ground to kneel before Zeus.

“Praise Zeus, father of the Sun God! Father of knowledge!” they shouted.

“I’m searching for someone,” Zeus said, towering over them, “You know her as Nemesis. She may have assumed the form of a mortal woman to hide amongst your flock. Have you seen anyone unfamiliar?”

“No, my lord,” one of the priests said, “Everyone who came in for sunrise worship is a regular worshipper.”

“Indeed my lord,” the other priest said, “But there will be sessions at noon and sunset, as well. Perhaps if you would like to join us…?”

“Ugh… tedious,” Zeus growled, “I have another idea.” Zeus turned around and walked to the top of the stairs that led up to Apollo’s temple. He took a deep breath and channeled his power into his voice, shouting so that the entire town below could hear, “NEMESIS! I know you’re somewhere in earshot, being sheltered by the people of this town. You disobeyed me because you had qualms about killing a mortal. You did so, full well knowing that your disobedience would be punished. Yet, when I demanded you surrender yourself last night, you refused, condemning the three mortals you took sanctuary with to violent deaths. So, I’m confused, Nemesis – do you care about these mortals or not?” Zeus paused for a moment until the echoing boom of his voice faded, “So, let’s find out.” Zeus wove his fingers around in an elaborate gesture, conjuring an orb of blue-white lightning. He flung it into the town, and it exploded in a storm of arcing electricity, partially collapsing one of the smaller homes and sending the townspeople screaming in terror. “Come out, Nemesis, or I will keep this up.”

“No! Please my lord!” one of the priests cried, “We have not seen the goddess, or any unfamiliar face. If someone is…”

“Silence,” Zeus flicked his wrist and casually electrocuted the man, “Come and meet your maker, Nemesis, or they will all die. Men, women, and children.”

Nemesis was paralyzed with fear. That unfamiliar feeling of regret and responsibility gnawed at her again. Now she was sure it was what others called ‘guilt’. The mortals had short lives, of course – from a god’s perspective, intervening to save any given human from harm accomplished little. The most affluent Achaean men had a life expectancy of around seventy years, with women, impoverished Greeks, and slaves having much shorter lifespans. A titan, by comparison, could live for centuries without medical assistance, and a god like Zeus or Nemesis herself had no defined upper limit to their age. Zeus’s stark white hair was the direct result of his battle with his father, Kronos, rather than any natural aging.

But then, the difference between a slave and a king had little to do with competency or diligence; luck decided the family one was born into, and so it was luck that determined how long a person could expect to live. A king was luckier than a slave, and though Nemesis was loath to admit it, a goddess was luckier than a human king. The notion violated her innate sense of fairness and justice, just as it did when she saw a fat rich man attended by emaciated slaves.

And that parallel was where her answer lay. For a starving man, a loaf of bread and a portion of meat was a feast, while for a king it was likely garbage, scraps to be thrown to the dogs. The lives of mortals were all the more valuable for their brevity. One more year of life, for a mortal, had more value than a decade for a goddess.

Nemesis flew down to the ground and changed into her god form. It was now mostly healed from the lightning bolt that Zeus had stricken her with, though she was still weak and in a fair bit of pain. She leaned with one hand on the column for a moment, collecting the strength and courage to step out into the open and surrender. She took a deep breath and stepped out into the early morning light.

“Stop!” she shouted, “Stop killing them! I’m right here!”

Zeus laughed as he juggled an arc of lightning between his hands, “You have grown sentimental, haven’t you? You forfeit your life for mortal insects; your resolve has become weak.”

A blinding light flashed between them, and when their vision recovered, a tall man with golden skin stood between them.

“Step aside, son,” Zeus said, “My quarrel is not with you.”

“And yet, one of my most devoted priests lies at your feet,” Apollo said, “That certainly raises some questions.”

“He was harboring a fugitive,” Zeus pointed at Nemesis.

“My priest did not know she was here, and even if he had known, a sanctuary is a sanctuary. Violence in our temples is forbidden.”

“Don’t presume to tell me what is and is not permitted,” Zeus said, “You quote laws written by my great grandfather. They bind me no more than they bound the Skyfather before him.”

Zeus started forward, but Apollo’s golden hair blazed with a corona of energy, and a brilliant beam of golden light erupted from his eyes and tracked across the ground in front of Zeus, leaving a glowing red cut in the marble walk way. It was enough to give Zeus pause.

“You wouldn’t dare raise a hand against me,” he said.

“You murdered one of my priests,” Apollo said, “You’ve undermined me in the eyes of my worshippers. I’m well within my rights to defend my status.”

“You forget yourself, child,” Zeus raised a hand, and the clouds swirled and darkened, blocking out the sun. The honey undertones of Apollo’s skin faded, and his luminescent hair dimmed to an ordinary blonde. Zeus lashed Apollo with a lightning bolt, knocking him aside, and walked past him to seize Nemesis by the throat.

Nemesis sank her talons into Zeus’s wrist and arm, drawing blood, but she was too weak from the various injuries she’d been dealt over the past couple of days to inflict more than superficial damage. Zeus lifted her off the ground and punched her in the abdomen with his free hand, cracking one of her ribs. Nemesis tried to kick him, but again, couldn’t muster enough force to hurt the god.

But then, Zeus faltered, and – for lack of a better word – he yelped.  He dropped Nemesis and fell to the ground, clutching the back of his calf, which was sizzling.

Apollo stood behind him with his bow drawn. “Artemis uses arrows she conjure at will; bronze usually,” Apollo said, “But I always felt that effectiveness was more important than convenience.”

Zeus ripped the arrow from his calf, and held it up. His blood burned on the metal arrow head, as if it were white hot. “Iron,” Zeus growled. Although most gods could conjure weapons of wood, bronze, or tin, one element almost none of their number could create was iron, the bane of Titans and Olympians alike. Centuries ago, iron weapons had been plentiful. The ore was ubiquitous, more common than bronze or tin, and thanks to Prometheus, the Minoan humans had known how to smelt it. That knowledge had largely disappeared from the Aegean when Knossos collapsed, though, and the surviving iron weapons had quickly rusted away, making it incredibly easy for Zeus and his kin to dominate Greece. “Who gave you iron arrowheads? Hephaestus?”

“My little brother owed me a favor,” Apollo said, “Now leave. I’ve got several more of these priceless beauties, and that broad chest of yours is an easier target than your leg.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Apollo fired again, and struck Zeus just below the left collarbone. Zeus shouted in pain and anger.

“I could just as easily put this through your throat and sever your spinal cord. Or straight between your eyes – 10 grams of iron, delivered straight to your brain. Either way, you’d be dead before you could shape shift.”

“You wouldn’t kill your father,” Zeus said, “You were never that cold.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Apollo said. He lowered his bow to aim at Zeus’s groin, “Did grandfather’s testicles grow back before you killed him? I have to think that it would hurt either way.”

“You will pay for this insult, son,” in a flash of lightning, Zeus transformed into an eagle and disappeared into the storm clouds.

Nemesis staggered over to Apollo and knelt before him, “Thank you for protecting me, Lord Apollo.”

Apollo looked down at his dead priest, the other clergyman was weeping over the man’s badly scorched body. The other worshippers would be lucky if Zeus didn’t exact his revenge by sending a storm to wipe out their little city.

“Leave,” Apollo said simply, “Artemis was wrong to send you here, Nemesis. You are a goddess. You have your own temples; shelter in one of them. Let Zeus’s wrath fall on your worshippers, not mine.”

Nemesis staggered back to her feet. The god didn’t even look at her; he just turned and walked down into the town to tend to the people injured by Zeus’s rampage.

Nemesis returned to human form, summoned a simple garment, and left town on foot, using the tree cover to hide her from Zeus’s gaze. She was alone now. She could maybe go to one of Hades or Persephone’s temples, but the outcome would likely be the same – Zeus would track her there and attack, killing their worshippers. Zeus had drawn her out once, that way, and so he would use that tactic again until he succeeded. She could go directly to the underworld, but it was doubtful she’d even be let in; her security clearance had likely evaporated with her station.

So, she simply wandered through the wilderness until she was satisfied that she was far enough away from town to have escaped Zeus’s watchful eye. She transformed into a bird and flew to her nearest temple. A god or goddess’s power was greatest in their house of worship – if she sheltered in one of her own temples, she might be able to put up a fight.

2.04: The Long Dark Night

Location: Near the foot of Mt. Olympus

Time Remaining: 31 years

Nemesis felt gentle warmth on her skin and heard the pop and crackle of burning wood. She drifted in and out of darkness for a while – how long, she had no idea – before she finally pulled together the resolve to urge herself back to waking. She’d thought she’d heard voices, but now they became clearer – they were feminine, and one was very excited.

“I think she’s awake!”

Nemesis raised her hands to confirm they were still attached after her long fall. Her bleary vision cleared away as she blinked, and she was able to see that her talons were gone. She didn’t clearly remember hitting the ground, but apparently she’d used her last moment of awareness to shift to a human form. Doubtless, that had saved her life. Gods and goddesses did, in fact, bleed if enough force was applied, or if the right sort of weapon were used. Their relative immortality could largely be attributed to their innate shape-shifting abilities. Severed limbs and mutilated organs could be restored to working order with deliberate concentration, but often it was simpler – required less thought – to shift into an alternate, very familiar form.

When Titans or Olympians shape-shifted, it was like wiping a chalk drawing from a piece of slate before drawing something new. When Nemesis had hit the ground, her skull had fractured, the bones in her limbs had been pulverized, and her rib cage had been so badly crushed most of her organs had ruptured. While her human form was far less durable, shifting to it resolved most of the physical damage.

Nemesis tried to sit up, but winced in pain as her body protested. Shape shifting could erase wounds, but the pain lingered. Hera had told her once, long ago, that this pain was similar to the ‘phantom limb’ experience humans have when they lose a limb. It was psychological, but so deeply embedded in the shape-shifter’s consciousness that the pain could be debilitating, and until it faded, returning to the injured form would restore the wounds that shape-shifting had erased.

“Take it easy, dearie,” one of the voices said as a cool cloth found its way to Nemesis’s forehead, “How are you feeling?”

“Everything hurts,” Nemesis said honestly.

“Hm,” voice number two said, “You should see the other guy, right?”

“The other guy was the ground…”

“You left a four foot deep crater where you landed,” a third voice said, “You are one tough crust of bread. But I suppose that goes with being a god, doesn’t it?”

Nemesis pulled herself up and looked at her human extremities, quizzically.

“Oh, you were already in this form when we found you,” the first woman said, “But the crater you left at the foot of Mt. Olympus was a tip-off, to say the least.”

Nemesis’s head cleared enough to attend to her rescuers; three Achaean women, all ten to twenty years past traditional marrying age, garbed in simple but clean clothing. One was fetching stew from the nearby hearth, while another stood at a window watching the night-shrouded world outside.

“Storm’s coming,” the woman at the window said, “I can smell it.”

“Now that you’re awake,” the first woman said, “I’m Kalosyni; we’re all dying to know who you are. Symponia thinks you must be Hestia, herself, come to test us, but Zestasia says you have the look of a warrior, and insists you must be Athena.”

“Nemesis,” the goddess said simply as Symponia brought her some of their stew.

“Oh, my!” Symponia exclaimed, “Please, we are simple, humble, pious women! Whatever we’ve done to offend the gods, please forgive our transgressions and sins!”

“I’m not here to harm you. Or anyone.”

“But… you’re the Goddess of Divine Retribution. You hunt heretics and punish hubris…”

“Not anymore,” Nemesis said, “My master wishes to give me a new purpose.” 

“A new purpose?” Zestasia said from the window, “What purpose?”

“Breeding,” Nemesis said.

“Oh…”

“Well,” Kalosyni said, “I take it that didn’t go over well with you.”

“I… I attacked him…”

“Oh dear,” Symponia whispered, “Should we be…”

“Symponia!” Zestasia scolded her, “Would you turn away any other poor girl in her situation?”

“No…” Nemesis winced again as she set her bowl of food down, “Your sister is right. I attacked Zeus. I’m a pariah and an apostate. Sheltering me here will bring the gods wrath down upon you. So long as I remain here, you will be in danger.”

“Don’t fret,” Kalosyni patted Nemesis’s hand, “What cause would Zeus have to knock on our door?”

There was a loud crack followed by a building rumble outside. “Storm’s here,” Zestasia said, “Still no rain though…” A haunting howl came from outside, and Zestasia put the shutter in the window.

“When was the last time we saw a wolf…?” Symponia fretted.

“It’s probably just someone’s hunting dog…” Kalosyni said, “But nevertheless… let us pray to Our Lady to see us all through the night safely.”

The three women stood in the center of their little house and held hands in a circle as they began praying in Minoan Greek. Another thunderclap drew Nemesis to the window. She slid the shutter aside – but saw nothing but darkness, the light from the full moon cut off by the thick storm clouds that blotted out the sky. When another lightning bolt bathed the outside world in white light, Nemesis spotted a large wolf lingering at the edge of the woods, and the next flash of lightning revealed a hooded man beside the beast – Zeus in his human disguise.

Outside in the darkness, Artemis shifted into her god-form, her loose green garment materializing in the same moment, and her bow and bronze-headed arrows after that.

“Nemesis is in that house, father,” Artemis said, “The women inside are frightened, and Nemesis is weakened.”

“Those senses of yours are uncanny, daughter, though tonight they tell us only the most obvious of things,” Zeus smiled, “Nemesis, pet, come out of there and kneel before your master! You have much to answer for!”

Inside, Nemesis contemplated her situation. She’d committed a terrible sin when she’d refused Zeus, and a greater one when she’d attacked him. The right thing to do would be to go outside and submit to his will. The thought twisted her guts, though, making her feel almost physically ill. What if she didn’t, though? Zeus would burn the little house in the woods down with his lightning, or order the lesser gods of the winds to blow it away. Hiding would only delay the inevitable and stoke Zeus’s rage.

Certain that sheltering in the house accomplished nothing save to put her human rescuers in peril, Nemesis started to go to the door, but Zestasia broke the prayer circle and caught her arm, “What will happen to you, girl?”

“I will be punished,” Nemesis said, “And probably imprisoned in Tartarus.”

“For refusing a man and defending yourself?”

“Zeus is not a man,” Nemesis said, “He’s the king of all gods.”

“If you really believed that, I think you would have found his advances more appealing,” Zestasia said skeptically.

“I… I… I was wrong… I should have been grateful for his attention.”

“A woman should trust her instincts on such matters,” Zestasia said, “And a goddess should certainly not question them.”

Nemesis hesitated, her mind divided to the point it felt like it was going to break, “Regardless,” she finally said, “If I do not comply, the gods will kill you all.”

“Have faith,” Zestasia said, “Zeus is not the only power on Olympus.”

Zeus shouted again, “Did you damage your hearing in the fall, my pet? I said come out here!”

“She hears you,” Artemis said, “But the humans are encouraging her to defy you.”

“What? How dare they?! I knew Nemesis had been too soft in executing her duties. Now the humans think they can simply do whatever they wish…”

Zeus transformed into his towering, godform, electricity crackling from his eyes and finger tips as he reached to the sky. A storm of lightning bolts fell upon the house, but each one bent away at the last moment, arching into nearby trees or striking the earth harmlessly. Zeus growled in annoyance and summoned another salvo that was no more effective.

The crashing thunder frightened a flock of brown-feathered house sparrows into the air. They spiraled over the house and then fluttered away, revealing a hooded woman perched on a staff that looked like a besom, which hung in the air above the roof.

The woman drew back her hood, revealing her thick brown hair and emerald green skin, “The denizens of this house are under my protection, littlest brother.”

Zeus ground his teeth – Hestia was the eldest of Zeus’s four sisters. Unlike Hera, Demeter, or Zeus’s twin sister, Aphrodite, Hestia had actually had something of a childhood before their father had shut them away in Tartarus. Like Hades, she seemed to think this somehow made her wiser than most of her siblings on moral issues. They seemed to forget that Zeus was the only one of Kronos and Rhea’s children who’d never spent any time imprisoned in the virtual utopia.

“My quarry is not one of the denizens of this house, but the apostate they are sheltering.”

“The apostate? You mean our sister?”

“Nemesis is not our sister. She’s a thing. A tool, a device. Hera raised her to serve us, not to have a head full of her own thoughts.”

“Hm, of course, nothing could be a greater heresy in your mind than a woman having her own thoughts,” Hestia glared at him, “Tell me, littlest brother, what specifically has she done to invite such rage? Did she spurn you? She did, didn’t she?”

“It’s unacceptable!” Zeus shouted.

“Hm,” Hestia smiled, “I think we’ve been in this moment before, haven’t we? Yes, after Aphrodite, Demeter, and Hera, you came to me. And unlike them I refused you. I don’t think ‘unacceptable’ is the word you used then but the underlying misogynistic entitlement was certainly the same.”

“We can revisit that moment now,” Zeus said, “Time has been kind to me. I can do things with my powers I wouldn’t have imagined back then. And what can you do, old woman?” Zeus mocked, “Turn into a pussy cat and scratch me? Wave your broom at me?”

Zeus reached up and brought down another storm of lightning, but again it bent away from the house, ravaging the surrounding forest instead.

“You can’t match my wards,” Hestia said, “I can shield this home from wind, rain, lightning, and pushy men all night.”

“Daughter,” Zeus smiled at Artemis as he cleared the clouds away from the moon, “Show your aunt what you’ve learned.”

Artemis looked uncertain, but she reached towards the moon with both hands, feeling the pull of the celestial satellite on her body and soul. She amplified that pull, intensified it, and the earth swelled beneath her feet. With a push of her hand, Artemis sent forth a wave that rumbled through the earth, toppling fences and trees, and shaking the house. She pulled back her hand and the wave rushed back to them, and then began moving back and forth beneath the house.

“Artemis!” Hestia cried, “Stop it! You will kill them!”

Much to Zeus’s annoyance, Artemis let up her assault. The house teetered and creaked. Hestia cast a spell trying to steady it, but as soon as she was distracted Zeus brought down another lightning bolt, rattling the house and setting the roof on fire.

“No!” Hestia jumped off of her besom and put her shoulder against one corner of the house to arrest its creeking, but she was too late. The burning roof caved in, women screamed, and when one of the spinsters inside tried to escape the front wall collapsed, crushing her in the door.

“Symponia!” Kalosyni screamed, but her cry was cut off as more of the house collapsed. The falling walls revealed Nemesis, back in her godform, holding the roof up to shield the two remaining women. That she was struggling meant she was still weak from her previous encounter with Zeus.

Hestia reached across a ruined wall to help Zestasia escape the crumbling building, but a blinding flash burst from Zeus’s hand, a bolt of lightning launching forth and striking Nemesis dead-on. Nemesis could absorb the voltage from Zeus's lightning, even replenish herself with it, but the violent expansion of the air in front of her was a different matter. The goddess flew backwards like a round rock poked with a stick, and the rest of the burning house came down , crushing Kalosyni.

Zeus transformed into his eagle form and flew forward, but Hestia unceremoniously knocked him out of the air with her Besom, and began beating him with it as her brother returned to his godform. The two deties began trading blows at close range, fists as strong as iron pounding against bodies as hard as stone.

“Zestasia!” Hestia shouted as she struck Zeus across the jaw with the heel of her hand, “RUN!”

Zestasia ran away from the house, but the goddess of the hunt, ruled by her untamed, predatory instincts, reacted to the flight of the frightened creature by shooting her in the head. Zestasia’s body collapsed to the ground. Hestia cried in grief for her slain follower, and Artemis herself was taken aback by her own callous violence.

“Artemis!” Zeus shouted as he kicked his sister, “Bring me our prey!”

Artemis ran past her father and her aunt, skirting the burning house and disappearing into the forest. She followed her nose, and found Nemesis struggling to crawl back to the fight.

Artemis walked over and knelt next to her as Nemesis clawed her way across roots and rocks,  “What are you doing?”

“He killed them!” Nemesis cried, “He killed them! Because of me!”

Artemis looked away, the guilt of her actions weighing on her heart, “If Zeus wishes to take a life, then it is his to take.”

“N-no!” Nemesis’s head hurt as she tried to think, “It’s not… not… right!”   

“Zeus decides what is right and what is wrong,” Artemis said, “All he does is righteous.”

Nemesis stopped struggling and laid still. She began crying. It felt strange to do so involuntarily. Her tears streamed down her face and spattered in the dirt.

“You need to heal,” Artemis said, “Can you change form?”

“My human form was hurt when the lightning hit the house.”

“A wild animal then, a bird. Transform and fly away from here. Fly to Apollo’s temple and seek refuge with him. If anyone would defy Zeus it would be my brother.”

“You’re… you’re not going to take me back to him?”

“I can’t take back my mistakes, but I don’t have to make more. Now, go!” Artemis threw out her hands and reached out with her mind, riling every animal in the forest larger than a grasshopper and sending it running, scurrying, or flapping away from the burning house. Nemesis shifted into the form of a large hawk and joined the frantic exodus, heading for Apollo’s temple.

2.03: The Callousness of Hera

Location: Mt. Olympus

Time Remaining: 31 Years

Nemesis had been told that the Constellar Palace was a place of great beauty, but that was beyond her knowing. Aesthetics concerned Nemesis only so far as they pertained to the necessary arts of deception and manipulation. Objectively, the fortification’s ornate architecture sent a message of power to those that saw it. So few did see it, however, that the decorative details seemed to have been a waste of energy.

2.02: The Compassion of Nemesis

Location: Mainland Greece

Time Remaining: 31 Years

“Wh-what are you?” the woman asked as her husband snatched their child up and grabbed a bronze poker from their hearth.

“I am Nemesis.”

“Are you… are you a god?”

Nemesis ignored the question. Questions were irrelevant now.

2.01: The Left Hand of Zeus

Location: Mainland Greece

Time: 31 Years before the Beginning of the End

The rain pelted Nemesis’s feathers, the water gathering along the leading edges and rippling across them. It was a minor hindrance to her flight, but she had no doubt that her master had sent the fierce storm to provide a tactical and psychological advantage in executing her mission. She appreciated his blessing, though it was hardly necessary. The dissident she would be dealing with was a soft target, to say the least. There was no reason to expect any noteworthy attempt to escape or resist.