"Father, can you tell me a story?" A seven year-old girl said, holding a well-groomed dog, that looked oddly like a wolf.

Her father, who was Childeric III, king of France, grunted at her and continued to pose for the artist who was painting a picture of him and his wife.

The girl's mother, who was standing next to her husband, glared at him, and much to the artist's protests, left with her to help her go to sleep.

"Mae—" the King started to protest, but his wife ignored him.

"Mother, why doth father hate me so?" The seven year-old said, tears welling up in her eyes.

Her mother's eyes widened. "Oh, sweetheart. Your father does not hate you. He is a king, Cassandra. He has responsibilities, and you know that. Be patient, darling. He cares for you more than you believe."

Cassandra smiled at her mother. "Okay mother. Can you tell me a story now?"

The Queen of France smiled at her daughter, and started a story that she would soon regret.

"In the beginning, there was one thing, or goddess. Do you know who that was?"

Cassandra grinned, and said; "It was the goddess Chaos!"

"Yes, indeed it was. Chaos had two children, Nyx and Erebus. They had two important children, Aether and Hemera. They had Gaia, Tartarus, and Thalassa. Gaia had one child, and had many children with him—"

"That's revolting, mother! How could anybody do that!" Cassandra exclaimed, showing obvious disgust.

"They weren't human, darling. That was normal for them." Her mother said, laughing at her daughter.

"Well, anyway, Uranus was ashamed of his first children, as they were terrifying and hideous, and threw them in Tartarus, the worst place in the underworld. So Gaia had more children with him, and they were not as bad looking, but still pretty ugly. So Uranus put them in Tartarus as well. Then they had more, but this time they weren't ugly, so Uranus didn't put them in Tartarus. But, angry at her husband for imprisoning their children, Gaia got one of her children, Cronus, to overthrow his father, and kill him with a sickle. Shortly before he died, Uranus gave a prophesy to his son that one day, he would also be overthrown by his children.

"Then, after his father died, Cronos had five children with his wife, Rhea. Their names were Hades, Demeter, Hestia, Poseidon, and Hera. In fear that they would overthrow him, he ate them whole."

Cassandra yawned. "Those poor babies!" She said quietly, and Mae smiled.

"Rhea had one last child, Zeus, and fooled her husband into eating a rock instead. Zeus got raised by a magical goat, and when old enough, came back to Olympus. He then tricked his father into drinking a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him throw up his other children, fully grown and whole. Then they overthrew their father and cast him into Tartarus.

"Shortly after the war, Zeus and Hera got married. Then Aphrodite showed up, who was born when the testicles of Uranus because Cronus cut them off, and they fell into the sea. She was the goddess of beauty, and Zeus could not help himself. He shared a bed with her, and they had a godly child named Ericthecles, who became a power-hungry King of Greece, after being cast out because Zeus and Aphrodite did not want Hera to find out.

"When he was around three-and-twenty, He was visited by a beautiful girl, and he bed her forcibly, not knowing that this was the goddess Hestia."

Cassandra glared at the wall. "Hestia is my favorite goddess, mother. They must have been a horrible person. Didn't Hestia have a maiden vow?"

Mae nodded solemnly, confining with her story.

"Hestia cursed him to forever have a crave for blood, and eventually he faded in madness and despair. Hestia turned out to be pregnant with his child, and had to give her away, because of her oath, but she still loved her all the same. Before she gave away her daughter she named her—"

Mae cut herself off as she heard the soft breathing of her sleeping daughter, and kissed her forehead before leaving the room, uttering one last word.

"Maeriettah..."

Cassandra's eyes shot open right before the candle was blown out in her room.


"My lord, when will it be time?" A raspy voice asked a handsome, short man.

"How long will it be before you can get your hands on that spell?" The short man asked the witch.

"Most likely about ten years or so. I'd have to track it down, sire."

The man grew annoyed. "Can't you just use a tracking spell, Lilith?"

"My lord, the witch it belonged to his it from our magic. She is the mother of all witches, Hecate herself. We would need divine help—"

"I know of a goddess who owes me a favor, and would really love to know what her husband has been doing."

"Who is it?" The old witch asked in curiosity.

"Hera."