Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters contained herein, I merely make them dance in what I hope is true to their rhythm.

Chapter Three

The Box

Crushed, I ran away from the crowd all the way to my home. I fell on top of the blanket, not caring that it was still soaked from the previous night, nor that it smelled very much like urine. I just lay there and started to weep.

I heard a noise, and I looked up, hoping that Epimetheus had taken pity on me and followed me home.

Nobody was there, but someone had apparently tossed a jar into the house. It was a violent shade of orange, with purple patterns all over it. The lid, I could tell, was sealed on tight, due to it not having come off when it hit the ground.

The jar lay on its side, and, despite my current predicament, I crawled over to it. I picked it up and examined it. It was so beautiful, despite the very odd combination of colours. I wondered who it belonged to.

I stuck my head outside the door, but I saw nobody around. I looked all around the house, but to no avail.

I went back inside the house, and stepped lightly towards the jar, as if afraid my very footsteps would break it. I knelt down next to it and examined it.

The purple patterns were circular in nature, and they almost seemed to revolve around each other. I wondered what they could mean. Maybe they detailed what was inside the jar.

I reached towards the lid, still very surprised it had stayed shut. I tried to pry it off, but for some reason it stuck fast. It must have been jammed in to ensure that whatever was inside stayed inside.

I examined the jar further, in case there was something I had missed. Then I found what I had been looking for. On the bottom of the jar, in plain words, was the message. "Do Not Open"

I scoffed. Why would someone throw a jar that won't open to me with the instructions "Do Not Open?" As if I could open it anyway? In my frustration, I tossed the jar towards the wall. When it hit the floor, it rolled the rest of the way to the wall. Then, inexplicably, it turned itself upright.

I stood up fast. How could that possibly have just happened? I crept towards it. What was in there that made the jar stand up on its own?

I heard a noise from the door and I whirled around to confront it.

Epimetheus held up his hands. "Don't be scared," he said. "I just want to talk."

I sneered at him. "How can you want to talk now?" I asked. "You didn't seem to want to say anything in front of the village when they were ready to tear me apart!" There were definite tears rolling down my cheeks now. "What could you possibly have to say?"

He backed up against the opposite wall and sat down. "I just want to know why you thought to keep the secret," he said. "Not from the village, I don't care about that. But why did you keep the fire a secret from me? Your own husband?"

I opened my mouth to speak, and then closed it. The truth was, I didn't know why I had kept it a secret from him. It was almost as if I had forgotten all about it after I had left Prometheus with the sheep near the fire. Of course, that could never be a valid excuse. Who forgets about something that incredible? And blaming Prometheus for making me leave it there wouldn't do any good, since he was the one who brought it back.

"I... I don't know," I said. "I guess that I thought it would be too dangerous. We didn't know how it worked, or if we could get more of it when it burned out." I spoke quickly, trying to plead my case. "And what would happen to our homes if it got out of control?"

His brow furrowed. "Couldn't you have told me about it anyway?" he asked. "How do you know it would burn out? We could have gone to that spot whenever we needed to get warm."

I hung my head. "I didn't think about that," I said. "But we could tell that it was burning out. The wood was changing whenever the fire touched it, and would end up as a pile of ash on the ground."

"So the fire needs the wood?" asked Epimetheus. "Otherwise it can't burn?"

I nodded. "I think so," I said. "Once the fire had finished one piece of wood off, it didn't stay in that spot. I can only assume that if we went back to that spot today, there would be no fire, only a pile of ash where it and the wood was."

He lit up. "Maybe we can show people that," he said. "Prove that you weren't trying to save it for yourself!"

I grinned. This is the Epimetheus I had fallen in love with. He was using logic to try to help me. Then I thought back to the village center, and my eyes narrowed.

"Why didn't you try to defend me in front of the village?" I asked. "We could have sorted this all out then."

He didn't meet my eyes. "I...," he started, and then he stopped.

"Answer me!" I cried.

"I... I didn't know what to think," he said. "I was confused, and wrong for not believing you." He looked up at me. "I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

I pretended to think for a moment and let him suffer. "I don't know," I said. "I mean, you really hurt me when you didn't say anything out there."

"I really am sorry!" he said.

I laughed. "Of course I forgive you," I said. "Come on!" I went over to grab his hand and pull him up.

He stood up, and then stopped all of a sudden. "What is that?" he asked, looking over to where I had been when he came in.

I looked over too follow his gaze. He was looking at the jar on the ground.

"I don't know," I said. "It just flew in through the window. I don't know who it belongs to. It just says "Do Not Open." But it can't be opened anyway. The lid is sealed shut."

"Hm," he said. "These are some interesting colours and patterns." He shrugged. "Oh well," he said. "Let's go." He took my hand and together we went back toward the town center.

When we arrived, Prometheus had left. The crowd was still gathered closely. As we approached, they turned around.

"What did you do?" cried Sophia, rushing us. She grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. "It's gone! What did you do?"

I shook her off. "What do you mean, it's gone?" I asked. "What's gone?"

She pointed toward where the fire had been, and the crowd parted. "The fire is gone, as you know well!" she cried.

And she was right. The fire had died down, and the wood that made it up was now a pile of ash.

I sighed. I should have known this would happen. It had happened faster than I had expected, though. "How could I have done this?" I asked her, shaking her off. "I was at home."

"I don't know how you did it, but you did," she said, spitting the words out. "You were angry that we found you out, and decided to make us pay for it."

The crowd was quickly becoming an angry mob again, and more violent. Several people started throwing stones at me.

Before I knew it, Epimetheus was standing with Sophia, and I knew. They had been having an affair. That was why he hadn't defended me before. Doing so would have meant going against her. And now he was standing on her side.

Tears were coming down my face afresh, and I knew that I had to escape. I started running away, cursing my husband and best friend for going behind my back. I cursed Prometheus for finding the fire and turning my life into this hell. I cursed the gods themselves for placing me here.

When I reached the house, I grabbed Epimetheus' knife that lay nearby and went to the jar. I fit the tip of the blade in between the lid and the body, and wedged it in there. A good whack with the club drove the blade inside, and popped open the lid.

In an instant, I was blown backwards. A huge rush of wind, and some maniacal laughter, and I knew no more.

Hera smacked Zeus over the head. "Why did you have to go and do that?" she said. "Throw her the box, and speed up the fire? You ensured that she'd be thrown out of the village!"

Zeus laughed. The tree line was now so far down the mountainside it seemed that the mountain had simply grown that much. It turned out, of course, that it was exactly what had happened.

"I was only speeding the process along," he said. "It was going to happen eventually, so I figured that I would just get it out of the way!" He scratched his nose idly. "Besides," he continued. "Don't you just love the angry mob scenes?"

Hera huffed and crossed her arms. "I just don't think she's cut out to be a villain," she said. "None of this is her fault, after all."

Zeus was paying no attention to her. "And of course I had to put the "Do Not Open" inscription on the jar," he was saying. "That way, her curiosity was sure to get the better of her!"

Hera turned up her nose, and walked away. She didn't know what she would do with Zeus if he kept playing his little tricks on the mortals.