Hi everyone, it's Kowalistair Fanatic! Okay now, if you've read the summery for this, (and you probably have) you'll know that this story is for A Heart of Blue's "Fairytale Challenge".
Now I know what some of you are thinking, "Greek mythology isn't fairy tales!"
Well, if you look up "fairy tale" in a thesaurus, you will usually find that one of the synonyms is "myth". So therefore IT COUNTS! Hooray for going against the status quo!
Now, on with the story!
You see, the deception and cunning manipulation of the Vespers was even before Damian and Gideon's time. For millions of years Vespers have been secretly reigning havoc and chaos in even the littlest of ways. This story displays just that. And it dates back to ancient times...
It was another beautiful day in Ancient Greece. Puffy white clouds moved silently across the light blue sky as shopkeepers went about their usual business.
In one of the numerous shops was a radiant and talented young girl named Narachne. Narachne was an extremely gifted weaver with cinnamon colored skin, silkily black hair, and sparkling amber eyes. She was also well known for making some of the loveliest sheets in all of Greece. People from around the world would come to Lydia to see her work. Even famous artists would fawn at the complicated designs and unique colors of her fabrics.
But our story concentrates on one particular day, when Narachne was visited by a mysterious shopper...
The youthful weaver was at her loom as usual, creating yet another masterpiece when a man walked over to her stand. "Excuse me miss, but are you the mastermind behind these beautiful works of art?"
She stood up, and with a proud smile replied, "Indeed. Them were made with the very hands that you see before you."
The man gave a low whistle and fingered the silky cloth like material, "Impressive, I've never seen such masterful workmanship in all of my life."
"And I'm afraid that you won't find it anywhere else." Narachne boasted.
The man smiled, "I fear that you are correct. Why I doubt even Athamy, the goddess of wisdom and inventor of the loom could even compare her work to yours."
Narachne looked up nervously at the sky, "Sir, I appreciate those kind words but you should be careful about what you say about the gods. They could kill you faster then a flash of lightening."
To her surprise, he just laughed and said calmly, "Madam, I only speak the truth. Your work truly is inspirational. Have you no confidence in yourself?"
Narachne considered this; she was the most famous weaver in all of Greece. And weren't others always complimenting the skillful craftsmanship put into her masterful fabrics? She beamed at the man and with a confident tone answered, "You know, I believe that you're right, I am the best weaver in all of the heavens. Even better than Athamy herself!"
To her great misfortune, Narachne failed to notice the sneaky look creep up the man's face as he stalked away. With an uplifting mood, Narachne went back to her loom.
Little did she know, Athamy's brother Danysus, the god of merriment was watching the private conversation, and well…let's just say he wasn't feeling very 'merry' at the moment. "Athamy you won't believe what I just saw!" he exclaimed in outrage as he trudged into the throne room.
Athamy had her nose in a scroll as usual, with her reddish brown hair pulled back in a braid with sparkling golden ribbons, and wearing a pure white toga. "Let me guess, Spartans lost again?" she asked nonchalantly.
"No! Well...yeah that too, but I'm talking about something more important!"
She looked up in annoyance, "What?"
"You know that mortal Narachne? The hot one with the loom?" Danysus asked.
Athamy nodded, "Yeah I know her. She was a student in my weaving class for the spring semester, what's your point?"
"I just saw her telling her some guy that she was a better weaver then you!" remarked the young god.
Athamy crossed her arms, obviously having doubts about this accusation, "And how much of this conversation did you hear Danysus?"
"Uhhh...okay fine! I only caught the ending of it because I was watching the Athenians go up against the Spartans! It was a good game! But I'm positive that she was boasting about being better then you."
Athamy rolled her eyes, probably at the predictability of her brother's stupidity, but she also gave him an understanding expression. "Even though your story is totally drenched with idiocy, I'm convinced it isn't entirely untrue. Narachne always was kind of a showoff. But what should I do about it?"
Danysus grinned, "Beat her at her own game! Fight fire with fire! Make her eat her words!".
"Excuse me?"
Danysus sighed and muttered under his breath, "And they say she's supposed to be the goddess of wisdom. Challenge her to a weaving competition and show her who's the supreme champion!"
He saw Athamy fidget nervously, "I don't know Danysus...competing makes me feel uneasy."
"Sis, you were just insulted! You can't let her get away with that!"
"Why not? I don't care all that much." she shrugged.
"But the other gods do! And if you let Narachne get away with this, word will let out. And pretty soon before you know it, other mortals will start thinking that we gods are pushovers! It'll be chaos!" he cried.
She sighed unhappily and put down the scroll. "Fine. But only because it's for family, nothing else!"
Danysus punched the air, "Yeah! That's goddess of wisdom that I know!"
"Shut up dweeb."
"No," he said with a dejected sigh, "That's the goddess of wisdom that I know."
"There, finished." said Narachne with a triumphant smile. She held up her newest creation to the sunlight, making colorful beams of light dance on the floor through the thin material. "Another job well done." she said, in satisfactory. Just as she about to fold it up and put it into storage, a heavenly light appeared in the room. Shining with such ferocity that she could only squint to see what the source was. All that was visible was the face of a lovely young girl, frowning at Narachne with disapproval.
After a minute or two the light began to dim, and she could finally make a description of what the girl looked like.
The glowing youth was thin with reddish brown hair in a beautiful braid and tied with small golden ribbons, she was also wearing the whitest toga Narachne had ever seen. Staring at Narachne with a hard expression the girl introduced herself, "Greetings fair Narachne of Lydia. My name is Athamy, goddess of wisdom inventor of the loom. My brother Danysus tells me that you believe that you are the superior weaver compared even to me. So I have come here to defend the honor of my family and myself. I challenge you to a weaving contest!"
Narachne smirked, "Very well o, mighty goddess, let us do this. Right now!"
It was now sunset. The clouds were painted with the soft colors of pink and orange as the sun began to set over the horizon.
But surprisingly, very little noticed the remarkable sight. All gathered to watch the goddess of infinite wisdom, and the well-known Lydian artist go head-to-head in the greatest battle in all of Lydia. Onlookers marveled as both weaving masters worked furiously at their looms. Beads of glistening sweat trickled down the foreheads of goddess and mortal alike while colorful fibers interlocked each other in complex patterns.
Finally, after five long, excruciating hours both creations were finished. Panting hard, Narachne and Athamy stood back to admire their work.
Athamy's masterpiece displayed a scene with the mighty Olympian gods in all of their glory. Fiskeus the king of the gods shooting fearsome thunderbolts down from the heavens, Danysus her brother growing vines of plump grapes for grateful farmers, Arenhower the god of war and herself preparing to go to battle, Sinemis and Tedpollo the sun and moon twins riding chariots across the night sky, and Hames the messenger god guiding new spirits into the underworld.
"Beautiful work o, wise Athamy." praised one of the judges, admiring the goddess's depiction of her family.
"Efxaristo." thanked Athamy with a blush. But her uplifting mood was caught short when she caught sight of Narachne's sheet.
The piece itself was well made, and it too displayed the Greek gods. But unlike Athamy's it displayed them in mockery rather then praise. It showed Sinemis and Tedpollo shrugging stupidly as their chariots crashed into each other because of neither paying any attention, Danysus shooting Fiskeus in the rear with one of his own lightening bolts, Athamy and Arenhower rolling on the ground with each other in an argument, and Hames accidentally losing control of his winged sandals and falling into the River Styx.
Athamy felt anger boil inside of her. How DARE she! It's one thing to insult her expertise, but it's totally different when she messes with her family! AND NOBODY MESSES WITH HER FAMILY! "Alright Narachne if weaving means so much to you, HERE!" she yelled, extending her arm outward and zapping Narachne with a beam of light.
At first, nothing happened. But then suddenly and out of nowhere, the famed Lydian weaver began to shrink. Her beautiful caramel skin turned hairy, her shiny dark hair fell out, and her hands turned into ugly stick-like pincers. Narachne let out a bloodcurdling scream before she finally finished the transformation.
"Weave Narachne. For all of your miserable life that's all that your children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and so forth will do for all eternity." scowled Athamy. "I hope that you are satisfied with yourself." and with that she disappeared in a wave of fire.
A silence filled the streets, only the sound of footsteps against pavement resounded as most of the crowd quickly left the horrifying scene. Narachne called out to them for help, but no individual could find it in their hearts to show mercy or even any attention to the past offender of the gods who dared challenge Athamy and lose her youthful beauty because of pride.
Only one man came over to her and leaned down to examine at her.
She gasped; it was the man from the shop that had praised her earlier! Being a fan of her weaving surely he would assist her!
But to her utter disappointment, he just stood there with a face of false sympathy. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Narachne." he tutted, "It's such a shame that you were such a fool to actually believe that you are a superior weaver to Athamy." He laughed evilly and threw her roughly in the bushes beside her shop. "Better start weaving Narachne." he whispered with a smirk as he walked away.
Huh? Happily ever after? What's that? I'm considering to make this a collection of 39 Clues Greek myths but I'm not sure. Please review and speak your mind!