Share
MidReal Story
Olympian Shadows: A Goddess's Awakening
Anonymous
6d ago
Scenario:Hestia, the goddess of the Hearth, was lecturing her niece, Cassandra or "Cassie", for barely spending time with the other Olympians. Cassandra is the divine daughter of Hades and Persephone.
Create my version of this story
Persephone Queen
queen of the Underworld and mother to Cassandra, ethereal beauty with pale skin and flowing hair, protective yet distant.
Hestia Hearth
goddess of the Hearth and aunt to Cassandra, warm with golden hair and a gentle smile, nurturing and wise.
Cassandra "Cassie" Hades
divine daughter of Hades and Persephone, niece to Hestia, slender with dark hair and piercing eyes, introverted and curious.
Hestia sat on one side of the table and I sat across from her.
The table was laden with food fit for the gods- ambrosia, nectar, meat that had been cooked to perfection, fruits that were juicy and sweet, cheeses that melted in your mouth, and pastries that were flaky and divine.
I was not hungry but I knew that Hestia would be upset if I did not at least try some of the food that she had prepared.
So I ate a little of this and a little of that, making sure to compliment her on how delicious everything was.
And it was not a lie- the food was delicious.
Hestia watched me as I ate, her dark eyes piercing mine.
She had hair that was the gold of sunset and smiled with warmth.
"Is there something wrong, aunt Hestia?"
I pause, setting down my fork, and glance at the spread before us.
The golden plates and cups sparkled in the soft light of the dining hall, and the aroma of roasting meats wafted through the air, making my stomach growl despite my initial lack of appetite.
"Aunt Hestia," I begin, shifting the conversation away from her earlier lecture, "what's your favorite dish here?"
Her eyes soften as she considers the question, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of a golden plate.
"The honeyed figs," she replies, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.
She reaches for one, offering it to me, and I accept it, noting the way her expression brightens as she speaks of its preparation.
"I remember helping Persephone prepare them for a feast when you were just a child," she says, a faraway look in her eyes.
I take a bite of the fig, and the sweetness explodes on my tongue, transporting me to a time I barely remember.
Our conversation drifts to memories of past feasts, and I listen intently as she recounts tales of family gatherings long before my time.
I learn about the time Zeus accidentally turned the ambrosia into jelly, and how Poseidon had to be convinced to attend a gathering because he was afraid of being trapped on land for too long.
Hestia's laughter is infectious, and soon I find myself giggling along with her, feeling a sense of belonging I rarely experience among the Olympians.