Seven stars. Seven Stones and one marble branch to connect them all. Seven colors of the rainbow. Seven different gemstones. Seven petals of a single flower. Seven heavenly sisters dwelling on Mount Cyllene. Seven—a number of harmony, magic, balance and wholeness in numerology. What happens when you break it off the apple tree? When you do taste the fruits of life and death? When you disrupt the harmony?

A statue of the famed seven Pleiades stood outside their birthplace of Mount Cyllene. Formerly seven. Two of the sisters were of yesteryear. Faded from eye forever only to live in the memories of men. Electra was already a comet after she died of grief from her son's death in the Trojan War centuries ago.

Then there was Merope. A sister deserted by the others. A sister who followed her passions. A sister whose husband wanted to cheat death. A sister who flew too close to the sun. A sister who married a mortal. The sister whose "Face Was Turned". Turned from the righteous path. Turned because she wanted more than life, more than her share. Turned because she thought immortality was a gift. The Fallen Sister. The forgotten sister.

In Memoriam:

"It's time. Lay her to rest" The eldest of the remaining five spoke.

"If you insist Maia". Another answered.

"Do we have much of a choice?!" The third hissed.

"It'll break his heart. What shall we tell HIM?". A fourth one with a voice that rippled like the waterfall itself from behind a crystalline cave.

"The poor boy". The fifth voice chimed in with a voice that was like a marble staircase that led to the stars.

A circle of five from the assembly of stars in heaven stood in tandem as they mourned the loss of their sister. Five. That number was scarcely the same. Five. Number of femininity. The five was the number of a single star that points united when the strongest of the strong could no longer withstand. A sisterhood. Unbroken. Untarnished by loss, by betrayal. A number of love.

A slender figure with aqua blue eyes and long wheat colored hair and flawless skin solemnly guided her four sisters to the burial sight. Maia—the fairest and eldest. Following her was a tall raven-haired girl with onyx eyes. Celaeno. The dark one. The mysterious sister with eyes of chocolatey brown that drowned whoever stared at her. Next was a fair-haired girl and aquamarine eyed maiden with skin that shone like moonlight: Alcyone. The versatile one. The free-spirit. The one that loved the most. Accompanying Alcyone was a dryad looking girl with long dark brown hair and olive green eyes with sun-kissed golden skin. Taygete the wholesome.

Then came the sparkling one. Her hair was of a golden waterfall that caught the sunlight. Her eyes was pool of crystalline blue aquamarine with sparkling sapphires that took one's breath away. Her skin shone like alabaster and diamonds. Asterope. The sparkling one. The starry-faced.

The body of their dead sister laid at their feet as the remaining five sisters: Maia, Alcyone, Asterope, Taygete, and Celaeno paid respects to a figure lying still—a once beautiful one with sandy colored hair and sapphire orbs of every visible emotion imaginable swirling in their depths. Merope was the sweet one. The one that attracted bees like honey. The one all her sisters doted on. The five sisters muttered a prayer when her soul reached Hades, they hoped she would find rest despite all her sins and that of her husband's.

Flashback

"Hurry Merope! Keep up!" Laughing voices called as a group of six maidens lithe of form and fleet of foot that ran like the wind followed closely behind Artemis their leader—moon goddess and patroness of maidens. The sisters were done with a day of hunting and followed their goddess through the forest glades to the nearest waterfalls and were busy splashing each other. Merope alone stood shyly on the banks of the river and refused to join her older sisters.

"Come on!" They called. Merope shook her head. She wasn't about to join in. She was the last to get her growth spurt. She wasn't one to join. She wasn't the one always noticed. She was the quiet sister. She never knew how to sparkle like the rest. She was a gentle breeze. A ripple while her sisters were all varying breezes and different shades of flowers: Maia was a marigold. Asterope a Rose. Alcyone an iris. Taygete a peony. Celaeno a hawthorne. Electra like a sunflower. Merope was a sprout.

"I am going to have to tell him". Maia declared firmly. Her only son. Her treasure. Her gift. Her more than life. The news was only going to shatter him but Maia was never one to lack resolve. The other sisters always readily listened to her advice or counsel whenever she gave it. They had been nannies to her only son when he was born on their very mountain.

Maia left her retreat and left for Olympus at once.

Olympus

"HERMES! Give it back!" An angry shriek called as a tall, lithe looking goddess with pale waist-length blonde hair and icy blue eyes with skin that shone like moonlight shouted with a silver crescent moon diadem on her forehead. She was missing her bow. She carried her quiver of silver arrows on her back and yet her bow was gone.

"AFTER HIM!" A troupe of sixty Ocean nymphs clamored after their mistress.

A peal of uncontrollable laughter broke out as the slender elf-looking messenger god with winged helmet and his renowned winged sandals soared out of their reach and into the next room holding the moon goddess' silver bow in tact, his grin breaking out. He locked the door on the angry moon goddess and her entourage. This was a celestial bronze completely impermeable to anyone except himself. Hephaestus had it fashioned for just him ages ago.

'GET HIM!" The crowd bellowed on the other side as Hermes tried to suppress his laughter in vain.

"Every single. Freaking. Time." Hermes' smirk widened. He wasn't the quickest and most versatile of gods for nothing. The clear-sighted. Guide. Speedy comer. The Fleet-footed. The Silver-Tongued. The Seer. The Thrice-Great One. Hermes Trismegistus

The door pounded. Hermes grinned as he sat on a couch and put up his feet, watching his handiwork. His craftsmanship. His artistry. His illusions on his own blank canvas. His masterpiece. His world. His throne. He reigned as the eternal king. His newly woven net of chaos unraveling. This was gonna get interesting. I take the candy. They come after me. Or so they think. They'll never get the prize.

"Hermes". The youth turned. His smile disappeared. He knew that tone. A tone that scolded him when he snuck out of the cave too soon. That same melodious voice that sung him to sleep when he wailed in the middle of the night as an infant. His eyes froze as he saw the tall, slender, graceful wheat-haired woman with aqua colored eyes that reminded him of an watery spring of emeralds he could drown in forever. His shelter from the storm. From every storm.

"Mother..?" Hermes stammered.

Maia smiled and embraced him.

"My child. We must talk" She repeated as the look of sadness replaced her maternal warmth.

Mount Cyllene

"It's your Aunt Merope." Hermes froze.

"No...No..Not…" He couldn't finish when he saw his aunts gathered all dressed in black on his beloved mountain. His cherished childhood of dreams and games. His safe haven from the respite that awaited him from Olympus and the mortals, where he was yet to be another player in their court. His throne carved of illusions, deceit, and persuasion. One image he fashioned himself. Yet he didn't have to do that. Not here. Not home. HOME. That place has lost its meaning. A home without Merope. A hive wasn't a hive without honey.

"WHY?!" Hermes demanded. His crooked smile was gone. His playful, teasing, sparkling blue eyes burning with every hue was diminished by a look of rage, shock and despair.

Merope. Sweeter than honey that attracted all bees. Merope was his world. His life. Sometimes Merope was more of a mother when his own mother was away.

Flashback

"Where are those cows?! WHERE ARE THEY?!" An angry looking tall god with golden curly hair and sapphire blue eyes and golden aura blazed as he ran after a laughing child.

"Catch me Apollo! Catch me if you can!" The little child laughed merrily.

"I am gonna get you for this!" The tall god roared. He chased after the little one but the child was too quick for him. For a grown god. The child jumped through a log, ran through the bushes until he was completely out of sight. He then spotted his cave beyond the comforting shades of a strawberry tree he had been born days ago. His cave where his mother was resting earlier.

"Mama…Mamaa…." The little kid whimpered in dismay.

"Hush little one. Your mother's looking for you." A sweet voice called and a hand patted his sandy colored curls.

"Did you take Apollo's cows?" The tall, slender honey-blonde woman with amber colored eyes gazed into the child's innocent sapphire orbs.

"No. Aunt Merope. Why?" The child blinked in confusion.

"Hermes. Don't lie. Did you take your brother's cows?" Merope asked firmly.

Hermes hung his head in shame. Somehow he wasn't able to hide anything from Aunt Merope.

With her, it wasn't fun and games. With her he didn't have to hide. Somehow with her he didn't have to lie.

"Yes Auntie. I did." Hermes said and wept.

"Hermes. Little one. Don't cry." Merope whispered gently and hugged him closely. Hermes exhaled deeply and inhaled the scent. The smell of roses, honey and everything he loved. Merope was perfection. Auntie Merope was home. Home away from his own home.

"Someday you'll become a great god. One who will undoubtedly be cunning beyond compare. Someone who will use his wit to guide others and defend himself from his enemies. Someone who will be a herald for all—a bridge between the human and divine. Use your gift wisely Hermes. Help, and not hinder others. Return those cows to their owner and give your brother an apology. Do you understand? A lie is a mountain when it grows to proportion but it will fall on you." Merope spoke firmly.

Hermes blinked at the memory. For once he was going to stop hiding. Hiding behind the mask that grinned and lies. The smile that betrays and stings when be blinked. This was Aunt Merope. With Aunt Merope he never had to hide.

Merope. One word. One thousand meanings. Auntie Merope who taught him to be honest. Auntie Merope who was there when Hermes was known as the cow-knapper. Apollo had spent weeks fuming over his missing cattle. Apollo was the favored son. The Golden. The Shining.

He had written his name over everything he owned, much to Hermes' amusement at the time. Apollo wrote his name on his throne, his own palace walls, his temple walls, his golden chariot, and every single apparel he owned in his closet. Everything was covered with Apollo's scent or aura so if someone else tried to steal it, it would alert the sun god before the thief had a chance. Hermes managed to do that—steal most of Apollo's clothes within one week. He had stolen so much more ever since. He stole silver items of Artemis the moon lady and Apollo's own sister. Apollo's paranoia became so extreme as to make Artemis wear a sign on her chiton saying APOLLO'S SISTER for MONTHS to Hermes' amusement.

FLASHBACK

"Don't be silly Apollo! WHY would he steal me and hide me away?!" Artemis thundered.

"BECAUSE HE CAN! I lost you to Orion once and I AM NOT losing you to the COW-STEALER!" Apollo thundered.

"GET OVER YOURSELF! You're my brother doesn't mean you can control me!" Artemis shuddered as she shot moonbeams, threatening to paralyze Apollo for having the audacity to control her.

"NO! I am your guardian and you will WEAR this "Apollo's sister shirt !"

"OMG DON'T BE RETARDED!" Artemis screeched.

"Artemis just humor me for once!"

"NO! I won't lose face in front of the others because YOU DO!"

"You NEVER had a sense of humor when we were growing up! You're always peeved!"

"You're NEVER ANY FUN!

"You're NO FUN!

"No, YOU'RE NO FUN!"

The twins argued back and forth. Leto their mother stood up from her corner where she sat and waved her arms.

"Excuse me BOTH OF YOU, STOP THIS RUBBISH! Apollo take that ridiculous tag OFF your sister or

"SHUT UP!" The twins yelled in unison.

Hermes laughed hysterically from his corner.

Hermes stole these things any ways from Artemis and everyone else. Artemis held a bigger grudge than her brother did and threatened to have her hounds injure him so much he was going to cry for his mother. Or Aunt. Hermes felt no remorse at what he stole or who he conned. It was in his nature. It was what the Fates had allotted to him as his due. He was just one more key player in the divine symphony they had written and no god, not even almighty Zeus can shatter.

Yet Aunt Merope can—with one stern glance or one frown, one chiding look or slap on his head. Aunt Merope was everything. With her Hermes the Pretender. The Con-Artist can clean up his brushes and leave his canvas blank. With Auntie Merope Hermes was just her nephew. The Cyllenian. He was the one who was grounded the most in his childhood. He would sit at her feet listening to her lectures day by day when his messenger duties were done for the day. He filled her in on the stories on who was doing what to whom and what gods were engaged. Merope wanted none of that.

Merope was his voice of reason when Aphrodite rejected him. The love goddess had hundreds of admirers and she had no eye for Hermes. The heartbroken messenger god poured his woes to his beloved aunt when she turned him down for the millionth time.

Flashback

"She's just Aphrodite dear. There will be others" Merope consoled her distraught nephew when he poured his heart to her.

"She is so beautiful. There will be none other like her". Hermes muttered. Aphrodite. The Golden. The Sea-born. One where flowers sprang up at her feet where she walked. One where her voice was a thousand angels when she sang or spoke or laughed. Where her hair was living gold and her eyes endless orbs of aquamarine that drowned those who stared at her. Her face was so flawless like the rest of her—rosy cheeked that was like the dawn of sunrise and dusky pink of sunset that took your breath away when you stared at her for too long. The Evening Star. Morning Star. Star of hearts. Breaker and Player of hearts. Gravedigger. She'll dig your grave.. She cut the string. She was the one who was sweet and stung.

Love was fickle. Hermes stayed away from Aphrodite after knowing she wasn't in it for the long haul. He wanted her when she wasn't attainable and stolen her sandals to get her. Merope made sure he returned them to her.

One day everything changed though: Merope was married. To Sisyphus of Corinth. Without his knowledge. Without his feedback. His beloved aunt. Married. TO A MORTAL?!

Merope was met with opposition. None of her sisters supported her. By this time they lost Electra after the Trojan War was over. Electra had been so heartbroken over the death of her son Dardanus that she was placed among the stars as a comet to join him. Her son was in Elysium. She would join him there. Their brightness dimmed. They weren't losing Merope. Not the honey in the comb.

One aunt down. Now a mere MORTAL was sup the chalice of honey. Sisyphus of Corinth. The blasted name. Hermes' job was to guide the deceased to the underworld. The messenger god made a note that he wasn't guiding him to anywhere but Asphodel to let himself be blinded by his avarice that he wandered the Asphodel fields as an insubstantial being. One more faceless coward in the pack of cards dealt by death when one entered the underworld.

Betrayal

"Why?! Why a mortal?!" Hermes raged at his aunt Merope. He never got angry or hardly ever did. When Hermes was angry it was a big deal.

"Hermes, my dear nephew. He's not just any mortal. He's a king of Corinth. He has a fine mind and a steady heart. Moreover he was overshadowed all his life. It's his chance of greatness. He said he'll show me the life I never had." Merope smiled.

"NO. You BETRAYED ME. You turned away from this family. You would sell away your immortality to a measly, mediocre old king of Corinth who was a miser all his life. He cares not for you but HIMSELF." Hermes stormed.

"For once I am about to do something for myself! I wish you can be more understanding, my nephew! Why are you this selfish?!" Merope exclaimed.

You're my aunt. That's why. You balance me. You keep me centered.. I am NOT losing you to that fool.

"I am not losing you. I am NOT losing you" Hermes' voice shook as he spoke.

"I am not, my nephew. I am always here"

"ENOUGH. Get out. You made your choice. The heart of a mortal man over the family that couldn't afford to lose the glue to keep us all together. You'll lose your essence, my aunt. You'll fall prey to his mortal ways of avarice and whatnot. Sisyphus will do whatever to get his way."

"I won't!"

"Play your cards right. If this is what you want, why don't I quit this game?" Hermes spoke firmly and left his aunt to her thoughts.

This was love wasn't it. This was honey and its side effects. Alluring. Tempting. Tasteful while it lasts. Then bitterness. Bittersweet. Mostly bitter. You thought you ate ambrosia and nectar of happiness. It was all just another play. Just another card trick. Just another masque. Being dealt the wrong hand. Just the Fates having yet another laugh at your foolishness.

So his aunt lured him in to the side of reason and truth. Away from all this chaos. He was tempted. He was the biggest fool when he thought he was the prankster. He wasn't allowed to quit the game. Not this web of lies. Not this time. Gold to dust. Sweetness to sawdust. Diamonds to plastic. That was his specialty. Yet truth was relative. What was this but lies sugarcoated yet again.

Loss

Merope was married off. The radiant bride was joined with the beaming groom that day as they embarked for their palace in Corinth. Hermes was sullen for months. It was the last time he would speak of his aunt or contact her.

Sisyphus wasn't content with his share. He wanted to extend his life thread long after it was time for him to die. He thought that he could cheat death itself. When Thanatos came to fetch him, the Corinthian king cunningly asked Death himself on why Hermes wasn't here to fetch him. Thanatos before he could respond was chained up.

Sisyphus laughed. Finally. He—the one mortal that bested death itself. He lived on for so many more years with his loving wife and dabbled in the luxury they could afford. Finally. They wooed life while Death cursed himself.

Life without death. Sisyphus acquired more into his kingdom. More old travelers who were part of his kingdom now suffered since they could not die. Yet their king pointed out now their families would never lose them to death. Merope heartily agreed. She spent more on her jewels and gowns, fans, and other luxuries she now took freely now that she and her husband were granted extended lives.

Play your cards right Merope heard Hermes' voice echoing in her mind day by day.

She was the one dealing the deck now. She issued decrees on her servants. She drove the finest carriages. She had the luxurious palaces. Life was eternal. This was her canvas now. This was her masterpiece. She was honey no more. She tasted of drachmas and jewelry. She was no more the comforting Merope of times of yore. She was Queen of Corinth. She wanted to be queen of the world. Life ruled over death now, didn't it? Battles were of play-acts. Soldiers never died only severely injured. Wars cannot be won since neither side really gave in. Ares had no due. This was an endless masquerade of deceit. Sisyphus and Merope sat on top of it all, watching their little puppets. Their little kingdom, bidding down to kiss their feet. Worship them hail them as the conquerors of life and tricksters of death. They were the gods now.

The Fall

None of it was to last. None of this was real. Just another illusion. Another Deception. Another Game. Diamonds of pride. Dresses of Greed. Palaces and thrones of lies. Lies. More Lies.

Merope wove a web, cunning spider with her cockroach of a husband by her side. More Games. No more games, Hermes! More names. Fanning flames of wrath of gods. How long was this show to end before they pulled the curtain? Did they really think they could cheat death itself?

Thanatos was freed. People were free to die again and the life cycle went on. Sisyphus greying. Merope reaching past her prime. This time there was no fleeing death. Hermes himself was sent by his father to usher Sisyphus to the underworld. Merope paled after seeing her nephew again.

No. Please. NO, my nephew. Don't! Merope pleaded silently as she gazed at her beloved nephew.

Hermes' stomach held a knot. He for once was at a loss for words as he saw his aunt clutching her old husband. He wore a mask of indifference. Marble effigy of indifference. That was all he had now. He tasted the honey once. More than he wanted to. More than he should. She tasted her freedom once and dealt more cards than SHE should. This time there was no hiding.

"No aunt. You taught me not to lie. It's time." Hermes said indifferently as he almost felt tears prickle down his marble smooth pale face. He turned away in time. Why not. She turned from him. She turned from everything they had. Gone were the times they spent outside the cave by the strawberry tree as they shared laughter and stories. Gone were the times they chased each other by the waterfalls. Gone was the sweetness. The aches and the aftertaste were worse.

Wine was sweet. Yet it was far worse when one was intoxicated.

Sisyphus was ushered in to the underworld. His fate was to roll a giant boulder up the steep hill. Only to have it slip from his fingers and roll all the way back down. Over and Over. One Thousand times. One million times more. He wanted to cheat death. He wanted life everlasting. He tasted the sweetness of lies and now the truth was burning up a hole.

He was a little ant up a mountain now and wasted were all his efforts. Time laughed. Styx laughed. Old Age laughed—all at him. Cheated life. Yes. Cheated people yes. Painted his masterpiece yes. Tasted gold yes.

But Cheat Death? Not here. Time and time is no more. Clocks broke. Life threads snapped. Wishes were dashed. Leaves fell. Youth was wasted.

Death conquered all.

END.