In a dark room, willowy fingers poised over a keyboard, their dexterity arrested as the writer framed his thoughts. The white-light glow of the laptop screen in front of the keys cast sharp shadows past the mid-point of the digits.

On the monitor was a single open window- a text box for a blog. The cursor blinked, the potential for what was and could be stunned the writer.

Since when did he get so sentimental about a blog?

His intensely brown eyes closed. He had to get the truth out somehow; it was killing him. He had to tell someone, even if it was the whole world.

His blog, focused on the Greek Pantheon, was little more than a miserable excuse to stop from telling the secrets he held to everyone and anyone. In a fictional setting, he let loose the maelstrom that was his life, and the soap-opera that existed in thrall around him.

The writer took a deep breath, and pushed his fingers nimbly over the key pad. Text appeared, shoving the cursor further down the page, trailing his thoughts behind.

Here's the truth:

The gods live on a small island, off the coast of Greece, in what used to be the domain of Poseidon… used to be, because Zeus decided to ix-nay Poseidon's rule.

I, Hermes, bring the truth to mortal eyes for the simple reason that I, messenger and trickster god, cannot keep the secret anymore.

Poseidon, Hades and Zeus used to be friends. Actually, it was more because of Poseidon's wife, Amphitrite, used to be rather good friends with Zeus… the catch was, their friendship was too good.

You know all the mythology, I'm sure, that professors have dribbled out to you. Forget all that; I'm bringing you the real story. No one's married unless I say so, no one's related unless I say so… but the powers are still the same. Would I lie to you?

Please, keep in mind that the gods are touchy, and their lives rather resemble a soap-opera… so don't let anyone below a certain age… say, 15, read this. It's not the job of the messenger god to dissemble childhood dreams.

Zeus is, naturally, king of the gods. He rules the island with kindness, bringing prosperity to the lesser gods. His wife, Hera, is less benevolently disposed. She's jealous, vindictive, and- not to put too fine a point on it- nasty.

The story I'm about to tell you begins on a dark day in the island. Aphrodite has just been murdered. (Let's conveniently skip the idea that gods can't be murdered; one was, and I wouldn't lie… well, not in my messenger capacity.)

Athena and Aphrodite were friends, the best friends, actually. All four of us were: Aphrodite (sister to Hephaestus, girlfriend to me, daughter of Zeus), Athena (girlfriend to Hephaestus, daughter of Poseidon and Amphitrite), Hephaestus (boyfriend to Athena, best friend to Hermes, brother to Aphrodite, son of Poseidon and Hera), and your devoted messenger, Hermes (son to Hades and Hestia, sometime boyfriend to Aphrodite, best friend to Hephaestus, friend to thieves and businessmen, bane of all professors everywhere).

Let me defend myself. Aphrodite was, as goddess of love, somewhat loose. I loved her, but it's the truth. She loved love. Aphrodite had what is best described as a Harem. I was simply her main squeeze whilst she lived… I think she loved me, too. She just loved love a bit more. At any rate, she was known to flirt with others, including Nemesis, as I later found out. Pan and Helios she tolerated, but did not love.

Shortly before Aphrodite was murdered, Athena saw me with another girl. One of many since, I'll admit. She told Aphrodite that I kissed said girl… (We were on a break!) and Aphrodite broke up with me. Again. (As I said, main squeeze.)

I first met the three (Aphrodite, Athena, Hephaestus) years ago. I have to confess something: I felt more attracted to Athena than I did to Aphrodite. But, being slightly cowardly, I backed off. (Athena and Hephaestus weren't together at the time; that happened later.) There was a sort of a spark between us, and the intensity… well, I went with the safer choice; I went with Aphrodite. I suppose I was always a little bit jealous of Hephaestus as we grew up; Athena was smart (well of course; she's the goddess of wisdom), talented, sweet, and loyal—both to her boyfriend and to her friends. Aphrodite was loyal to friends… she just liked her freedom in the romance department.

She was murdered, brutally. And it broke my heart. It broke everyone's heart, just about. But it hit harder among we that used to be four; Athena, Hephaestus (her brother, remember), and myself.

A lesser god, Thanatos, confessed to the murder, and was locked up in Tartarus… but Poseidon didn't believe him. Neither did Athena. Poseidon began to look more closely at the murder, investigating the death of his daughter's friend. I don't blame him; his instincts are usually right on. He just made the mistake of accusing Zeus of the murder. Now, that was stupid. Zeus loved Aphrodite; she was his little girl. Still, I guess that what Poseidon found was convincing; he doesn't usually jump the gun, so to speak.

Poseidon's little announcement brought the ire of the entire island upon his head. That was when he was stripped of his vast domain, the sea. It was given to a lesser god… a bungler, I might add. But that's a different story.

What hurt the most, however, was that Athena stood by her father. She was the good daughter, loyal to the end… the catch was, she had to choose. She could not be loyal to the four that were and to her father. I was the one that spoke to her, demanding where her loyalties lay. She insisted upon supporting her father.

Then what was four (also known as three heartbroken friends) became two. Athena was exiled from our friends, and not even the lesser gods would associate with her. It was not timed to do so just after Amphitrite left Poseidon, after Poseidon was stripped of his domain and left to wander it without authority; that was an unfortunate coincidence. At any rate, shortly thereafter, Hephaestus, her long-time boyfriend, would break up with her.

I knew I couldn't stay mad at Athena; it wasn't her fault, and we had no business blaming her. I honestly believe that if I hadn't eavesdropped, we would have been friends again... Athena is normally so sweet, so trusting, you can't help but want to protect and befriend her. That's just who she is; you can't stay mad at her.

Even with the horrors behind us, we would have repaired our friendship and gone back as close as possible to what we were.

But I just had to eavesdrop.

I went to Hephaestus's residence, partially to drink, partially to grieve the loss of Aphrodite. She was, after all, irreplaceable. We'd been in his chambers for hours, consuming vast quantities of what mortals deem 'alcohol' and I call 'ambrosia'. We'd finished our last bottle of ambrosia, but I wasn't drunk enough, apparently. So I went to get more. On the way, I heard voices raised in arguments. It was Zeus and Hera. (As I said before, Hera's bad news.)

Being too stupid at that point to get the heck out, I listened in at the cracked-open door. What I heard made me want to lose whatever was in my stomach at the time, ambrosia and all.

Athena's mother, Amphitrite, had been engaged in a long-lasting affair with Zeus. And there was a chance that Athena was not the daughter of Poseidon, but of Zeus. It was true, Hera was always sort of evil to Athena, always uttering sly remarks; shooting cruel, cutting glances… but I never understood why before. As Hephaestus's girlfriend, she had always been loyal and sweet. But Hera never warmed up to her. Now, I learned why.

As inebriated as I was, I still understood one thing: Athena and Hephaestus might be siblings. They didn't know it, couldn't know it, but I understood. I made it to the water closet just in time to evacuate my stomach. They didn't know… they had no idea what they were doing… Athena was so innocent, she'd never suspect. Hephaestus was, although I dislike saying such things of my friend, clueless to the point of stupidity; he'd never guess the truth until it was laid out before him in big bold letters: You are dating your sister, and it's on the verge of a very typical, very dark greek tragedy.

My gut was churning, even after I rinsed out my mouth. Athena… I had to protect her. There had to be some way to let her be ignorant of the travesty that had become her life, and allow her to keep her innocence as well. She had to be separated from my group of gods in a permanent manner, first and foremost. She had to be severed from Hephaestus once and for all. I had to break her friendships and her heart to save her. She needed to be protected, no matter the cost.

As I stood, staring at the mirror, trying desperately to think through the buzz, I heard footsteps pass the bathroom- heels, on a woman's feet. Feeling no shame for my actions (Come on, compared to what I'd just heard? Eavesdropping was nothing.), I once again listened at a door, this time to what Hera told Hephaestus. I winced as I heard his objections, his strain, his horror as it finally sunk in. I left for downstairs as he made a bee-line for the bathroom, pushing past his mother. After what we'd just heard, both of us would need copious amounts of ambrosia.

I went back up the stairs to his room. I didn't expect him to tell me what he'd just heard; Hephaestus has a great deal of pride. The truth of the matter was too ugly to reveal, even to a best friend. Naturally, I could never break him by telling him I knew. For the sake of our friendship, I kept quiet, and passed him the bottle.

Logan wiped his face with his hands, and shook his head. It really wasn't a good thing, to do as he had. He regretted how he treated Veronica- whom he termed Athena. She didn't deserve what had happened. But at least no one would suspect.

Still, he smirked at his own cleverness, using the Greek myths to set up his own confession. Who would guess?

First and most obvious was the name for Lily; Aphrodite, the goddess of love. It was what she was. In the myths, the goddess had sprung from the bloody head of a god which had been thrown into the sea. She could cause any one to love her… and they had. She was beautiful, yes. She was also selfish. That was Lily.

Next was Veronica, whom he named for the goddess of wisdom, Athena. The goddess sprang full-grown from Zeus's head in the myth, with no mother. Anymore, it was true. Veronica's mother had long since departed. The goddess was representative of wisdom, reason, and purity… the only goddess allowed to use the mightiest of weapons, the thunder bolt of Zeus. Logan had no doubt that she could handle it. There was a darker aspect of the myth, involving Hephaestus. It was wrong, but inevitable… and irrelevant at that point.

His own name, that took awhile for Logan to figure out; who was he? Apollos? No; the sun god was war-like, and in Logan's opinion far too cheerful. Besides that, the pansy couldn't lie, an art at which Logan excelled. Ares? Again, no; the god of war was furious and a coward. His personality did not fit either. Then, he remembered the trickster god, the messenger god, Hermes. It fit. Hermes was the cleverest of the pantheon… outside of Athena's wisdom, of course. He was the god of cross-roads, of thieves, of liars, of businessmen and those that cross boundaries. And just like the god, whose cleverness at stealing Apollo's cattle came back to bite him, Logan's own actions returned to give him pain.

I knew it wasn't fair.

Don't think I'm stupid, or dense, or any such thing, I knew.

You're probably wondering what I'm talking about.

I, whom you all fondly refer to as Hermes, am talking about the way I kept Athena safe. Yes, that was partially a brag, that I protected her. It was also an admission of guilt; I broke her to keep her safe. I am ashamed of that… ironic, n'est-ce pas? Proud to protect, guilty that I hurt… I honestly wish I could say I knew another way.

I still haven't clarified what I did, have I?

Well, please allow me to explain… anything to stop the begging.

Athena is innocent, but smart and as curious as a proverbial cat. The real-world translation was, I couldn't keep her safe and innocent AND let her anywhere near what was our world.

So, I did the only thing an, as she so kindly deems me, 'obligatory psychotic jackass' could do to save her. I ostracized her.

Shut up and don't look at me like that… after all, who are you to question the actions of a god?

Seriously, wait until you've heard my reasoning out all the way.

Hephaestus had just been drinking. Heavily. I wasn't that much better off, but I didn't have as much of a motive as he did. I mean seriously, kissing your sister? I couldn't even imagine his pain, so I kept handing him ambrosia. It was one trick I'd learned that quelled- or numbed at any rate- any feelings of anger, worthlessness, guilt… it was a magic potion that made it all go away. As long as the buzz stayed.

"Seriously," he said, and it was difficult to understand through the slurs… although my ears weren't at their peak at that point. "I mean… I love her, man. Love love… but… she's just kinda… what if I…" he sobbed, and his tears ran down the neck of the bottle. "I can't believe it."

"Dude," I answered, my own speech impaired, "it's her. She's been this strong, she can stand your break-up."

Hephaestus looked at me, kinda shocked. "You think I'd break up with her?"

"Well, you're drowning your sorrows in liquor, as opposed to your girlfriend's arms. And you can't hurt her."

"I only wish that was true."

"No, I mean, you can't hurt her. As in I will kill you if you tell her."

"Tell her?" Even in his shattered state- and I mean chemical and emotional- Hephaestus wasn't that dumb.

"Whatever has you cut up," I recovered, grateful for my tolerance to the liquid that has replaced the dog as man's best friend, "you can't tell her."

"She'll need a reason."

"She's a smart girl. She'll figure something out."

"I can't keep her from asking questions. She's going to be around me, and I can't not answer her."

The answer was too easy. Even drunk, I knew that. But I needed to help, and that was the only apparent way at the time. "Then we ostracize her forever."

"What? You can't do that."

"Of course I can."

"She's our friend, you-"

"Yeah. She's our friend, and we have to protect her from… from whatever you aren't going to tell her. She's too smart for either of us, and the only way to protect her is to keep her away from us."

"She's my girlfriend."

"And my girlfriend's best friend," I affirmed with clipped tones, "But one thing I know, she needs to be protected. So we're going to kick her out of our group."

Hephaestus groaned. I wasn't sure if it was from apprehension or the ambrosia. "How?" he finally asked.

"It won't be easy, but it will be for her protection… just follow my lead." Hephaestus was never good at improvising, and with Athena, you had to be on your toes. On the other hand, 'have' might be better, as she's still among the living.

So, we started the next school day. I fought with her, intentionally. You'll never know how hard it is to purposefully pick a fight with a girl that's already been through Tartarus, and who has shared your life… a girl who has been your friend for so long, you stopped questioning why, and a girl who never did anything worse than stick up for her father. My heart broke that day. As she looked up at me, her blue eyes filled with tears, her crushed heart on her sleeve (Hephaestus having just broken up with her officially after an avoidance routine that had been in place since she decided to side with her father), I knew I'd never forgive myself. She was innocent, but I had to cut her out for her own protection.

That's what started the worst part of my life. At first, she thought that it was a mistake, just a stupid fight like we sometimes have—the type where I say hurtful things and she cries, and then a week later we make up. I couldn't let her do that this time. Every time she tried to approach me that month, I hardened my gaze and sneered.

But she kept trying to talk to me, even more than to Hephaestus. She kept trying to ask me why, kept reaching out, and it was killing me. That's when I started the rumors- the second hardest thing I'd ever done. They became easier with time, making up lies about her. It was always heart-wrenching, forcing the statements between my teeth. But I had to, for her.

Yes, I know it's sick and twisted. Believe me, I get the full force of the irony shoved in my face every time I see her, and that hurt look in her eyes.

The rumors became easier to spread, as I grew numb. You can only see heartbreak so many times in the same girl's face before you get used to it. She got used to it, too, in those endless days of torture. It was as if she expected the insults, after the second week. Maybe she was growing just as numb as I was.

Then my fellow gods decided to take matters into their own hands. I cried inside, when I saw the accusations spray-painted on her locker… but if anyone asks me about that in court, I'm denying it.

Oh, yes, the gods have spray-paint and they know how to use it as a weapon. I should know, I've witnessed it first-hand.

I watched as those around me wounded Athena's spirit, to the point she could barely breathe, couldn't even walk into the school without a hint of tears in her eyes. It wasn't fair. But it was the only thing I could do.

It was the only way I could save her.

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