It was the first day of summer, the flowers flourished and the water washing ashore was warm to the touch. Poseidon, in a leisurely mood, strolled slowly along the coast of his massive watery domain, enjoying the calm weather that appears just after a storm. After rounding an outcropping of rocks, the sea god spotted a peculiar shape off in the distance, something that had washed ashore in the torrents. With a peaked curiosity, Poseidon investigated the drenched mass only to find an unconscious young girl. Her damp tresses were intertwined with pearls and her dress seemed as delicate as sea foam. Although her appearance on the beach seemed mysterious, even more so was the fact that she was astoundingly beautiful. Surely a girl as radiant as this would not escape the notice of the gods. Confused about the past of the gorgeous drifter, Poseidon gathered her into his arms and rushed to Mt. Olympus; hoping for some answers.
On the way to Mt. Olympus, the small girl slowly regained consciousness. She only managed a mutter, but Poseidon explained her questionable appearance and asked for her name. Eventually, in a soft, gentle voice that echoed in the wind, she replied, "Nysa." That one word, apparently a strain, led her off again into a heavy sleep.
Once at Olympus, Poseidon received a warm welcome and after swallowing a chalice of ambrosia he began to spin the tale of the little girl that still lay sleeping in his arms. Hestia took charge over Nysa and carried her to the hearth to warm her cold, wet body. As she warmed, Nysa languidly emerged from her stupor and looked around the hall in wonder. The gods and goddesses gasped in unison at the sight of her bright eyes, cherry lips and flawless complexion. She rivaled even Helen of Troy with her indescribable beauty . Hera rushed to fetch her some sweetmeats and Apollo played a tune for her on his lyre. Hermes juggled and played the fool to make her laugh; and laugh she did; a gentle, melodic laugh that reminded them of soft rain and left even harsh Ares sighing. Everyone, instantly enamored, tried their hardest to make her stay a pleasant one. Only one goddess had yet to see the girl.
Aphrodite had left the mountain earlier in the day to show her son a woman worth an arrow and had not returned in time to see the arrival of Nysa. When she did return, she expected her usual warm welcome and a pinch from Ares; what she found was an empty corridor. Already upset about her spoiled entrance; Aphrodite stormed the halls looking for a face to greet her. Eventually she found herself in an old nursery chamber, packed full of deities and servants alike. Pushing her way through, Aphrodite shouted at Ganymede, Zeus's wine bearer; asking, quite harshly, about the commotion. The young boy simply pointed into the room and said, "Nysa." Frustrated, confused and bordering on very angry, Aphrodite thrust herself into the center of the room. Upon reaching the center Aphrodite saw a small girl, residing on Zeus's lap, with her back to Aphrodite. Aphrodite began to yell, demanding information; but she faltered when the girl turned to face her. She had never seen such a beautiful child in all her life. Her perfectly curled hair encased a round cherubic face; split with a smile and adorable dimples caused by Hermes' tricks. But just when Aphrodite had sighted this gorgeous youth, the others shuffled her back, all wanting a glimpse of the girls perfect face. Awed, but furious at the treatment she received, Aphrodite stormed out of the nursery, upsetting a toy horse and a potted hydrangea.
Unfortunately for the goddess of love, love was in short supply for her in the coming weeks. Nysa absorbed everyone's attention. Even when the girl, who had shown herself to be not only beautiful, but intelligent and pious as well, sought Aphrodite out exclusively; the goddess did not enjoy her presence. Nysa's beauty surpassed her own and left her burning green with grudging envy. Aphrodite had not been jealous of another woman's beauty all her life. It appalled her to be shown-up by a mere girl. The very thought of it enraged her. The final straw came when Ares brought flowers for Nysa. This would not seem a large blow, but Ares and Aphrodite had enjoyed a few flings every once in a while and she had grown used to him hanging on her. She would never admit it, but she liked his compliments and his undivided attention. Seeing him ignore her in order to please this pip-squeak infuriated her; she couldn't stand it any longer. Weeks of anger and aggression came pouring out in a torrent of passion, "How dare you! You insolent, impertinent, conniving, demon-child! You don't deserve that beauty! I wish a plague of warts and rashes attacks you and leaves you so hideous that your own mother would disown you! You are not fit to stand in the presence of gods, you are not fit to stand in the presence of toads!" Aphrodite screamed and ranted until the small girl had dissolved into frightened tears, huddling against Ares for protection. When the goddess had run out of insults to rain upon the poor, innocent girl; she stormed off. Descending from Mt. Olympus; Aphrodite, in a frenzied fury, barricaded herself in a temple.
After recovering from the severe shock of finding that Aphrodite hated her with a burning rage, Nysa rushed to her room, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "What have I done? Why does she hate me?" She stammered over and over. Gradually, Nysa calmed herself and realized how Aphrodite must feel. She had come in and taken the attention, the prestige, and the adoration of all the gods; everything that Aphrodite had once possessed. Intent on righting the wrongs she had caused, Nysa traveled to Aphrodite's temple in an attempt to make amends. She waited outside for days upon days. Aphrodite never came out; she still sat inside, wallowing in self pity, thinking hateful thoughts, "I wish that Poseidon had never found that girl, if you could even call her that." Nysa prayed and sacrificed; she apologized and asked forgiveness, anything to stop Aphrodite from hating her so much. Nothing worked, Nysa eventually wasted away; her elegant form replaced by a hauntingly beautiful whisper. Aphrodite came around eventually; she realized her mistake and looked sorry for the pain she had caused the girl. Still, when all the deities gathered to remember the girl and her impossible beauty, Aphrodite conveniently, and suspiciously, never appeared. Zeus placed Nysa's voice in the soft spring wind and her laughter in the soft spring rain. Her voice still echoes when the breeze ripples the young green leaves, whispering "Nysa" for all the world to hear.