10,000 A.D.
Chapter Two
"Venus, call your son," ordered the king of Mount Olympus.
The goddess of love drew a flute out of her pocket. She played a most glorious tune, and it bounced off the crags of Mini Olympus, a replica of the mountain that allowed Zeus to keep an eye on all the gods. When he had received it as a present from the mortal Issuidae whom he had fallen in love with, Hera turned the girl into a turkey and she was roasted for somebody's Thanksgiving dinner.
"He's coming up at the speed of light," said Hermes, watching Issuidae's gift, "dodges the titan's fire, shoots a love arrow at Poseidon's face on a dartboard, is halted by Athena in a philosophical discussion, and," the sound of fluttering wings was overhead, "he's here."
Cupid first approached his mother, but she shook her head and turned her gaze toward Zeus. Taking the hint, he approached the throne.
"Welcome. You have been summoned here because your life is about to change dramatically."
"How do you mean, good sir?" asked Cupid. He knew that politeness was a characteristic Zeus greatly admired.
"I mean that you will soon have to give up on making people fall in love."
"But that's what makes me Cupid!" the boy pouted.
"No, it is what makes you stupid. Yes, I know Psyche is intellectual enough to compensate for your lack of learning, but I don't want any illiterate deities in my kingdom."
"I can learn…"
"No, you cannot. At least, not as long as you remain a love-inducer. Dost thou not know that love dampens ambition? Do you know how many great men you caused to fall because of your aimless arrows? How many aberrations from the norm you created? As long as you remain as you are, you will be a hazard to the world. If it were not for you, we wouldn't have had to worry about the world's population exceeding ten billion in 2085. We had to cause World War III to deplete that gargantuan number, and you remember the flood of 3797? But let's not worry about events of the days of yore. The bottom of the line is, we are ridding you of this power."
"But you can't just take it away!"
"Excuse me? I am Zeus, the king of the gods, son of Cronos, and I can do as I please. However, I will be lenient. You may have one more chance to make someone fall in love. It has been a while since you've done anything to mortals, after all. But this is the last one. Use it wisely."
Cupid entreated Zeus to relent, but all his pleadings were to no avail. "You are dismissed," said the All-Mighty.
For a month, Cupid sulked. He could not believe that this would be his last shot; his last time to create false love. And it was so that he could learn and wouldn't harm the geniuses of the present era. Worse of all, Zeus had not given much account to the fact that Cupid had remained on Mount Olympus to spread his mischief among the minor gods, never bothering with mortals at all.
He was desirous of making Zeus regret his injunction against Cupid, so he observed the most prominent city. There was a boy there who showed great promise, due to a stamp on his shoulder made by a real witch at birth. This stamp was shaped like a feather, which signified that the boy was not bound to the earth and that he would soar to great heights. If Cupid had been blessed with the powers of deduction, he would've surmised that Brangdon was a son of Zeus. There was something about him that suggested he could be immortal, if only he were to follow a certain course and live to a certain age. Some instinct told him that this boy would give him the utmost satisfaction to ruin, and so he set off.
Cupid knew that he had not the power to induce Brangdon to love a common girl, or any of the women he had associated with his whole life. Only someone of a rare and unfamiliar beauty would do, and someone who could easily denigrate him. Brangdon had to feel that he was inferior for him to love a lady. This task would be difficult, but Cupid was up to the challenge.
He noticed that Mallinor, who was sixteen then, was uncommonly pretty, and that she had a nasty demeanor about her, quick to ridicule or condemn others. But Brangdon never went to the Govercert (not that he would've been allowed) and thus it was up to Cupid to contrive how to get his quarry and Yhiberti's daughter together. Recalling that he had seen her likeness somewhere, he went to the Abandoned Portraits Depot, a place where all the pictures of people that had ever been burned or destroyed were restored as good as new. He sorted through them all, going backwards from the current day (believing that the females from the near past were more likely to resemble Mallinor than those from many centuries beforehand): starting with the women of the hundredth century and proceeding to the 9800's and so forth. Several times he saw a lady that came close to meeting his needs, but he was hoping for an exact match. Further and further he went, till he arrived at the twenty-first century, when he began to have doubts of succeeding. However, when he scanned the photos of 2007, he found the perfect match, an outstanding beauty with plaited black hair.
He purchased the precious picture from Cheros, the man who ran the APD. It cost him 850,000 ducats, a real bargain, Cheros informed him. Now he had to plant it in a place that Brangdon would be likely to find it. Luckily for Cupid, the boy was naturally adventuresome, so he had a plot to set it in a barnhouse when Brangdon was old enough for exploring.
However, one day his eyes lighted on the picture, and like Pygmalion, he fell in love with the girl it portrayed. No one else deserved her, he told himself. And what mortal would not give herself up to a god? Furthermore, he had the means to make her fall in love with him. Zeus had not said he couldn't use his last arrow on a female. How lovely it would be to have the girl of his dreams!
Psyche knew his heart, and she felt betrayed. Had he not given himself to her so many years ago? If worse came to worst, she would end Mallinor's life. She had the power to create dementia in the most unsuspecting mortals—why should she not use it on a woman who had stolen her husband? All's fair in love and war.
One day, a month before Mallinor turned eighteen, Psyche gave Cupid a tonic that put him in a deep sleep. While he was in this slumber, his wife sat at the Dream Tableau, which had been delivered to them by Morpheus the past June. Whatever she wrote on this tableau would be woven into Cupid's dreams.
She wrote: "A beautiful maiden with long, plaited black hair arises from the ashes, amidst the burning city of Moscow. She calls out your name, 'Cupid,' hoping you will rescue her from Nicker, the wild, lascivious unicorn who haunts every young girl's dreams. You approach her, but her hair turns into snakes like the Gorgons, and you tell yourself not to look into her eyes. However, you can not resist, and instead of the blue wonders you used to marvel at there, now you see open slits. Peer closer. A radiance as powerful as sunlight blinds you. You fell one of the snakes in her wrap around your neck, but you cannot see it. Pulling at it, you see yourself on a beach. The sun has dimmed down. Instead of the serpent skin you thought was in your hands, you are now holding a scarf. Sitting on a beach towel, you look at the person next to you. Mallinor sits there, scintillating and sultry. You ask her if she would like you to fetch her anything. She admits that she'd like a lemonade, and you go to fetch some, but when you return, instead of your sweet, all you see is an obese woman eating bonbons. Rapidly, clouds form in the sky. You expect the rain to come down in torrents, but instead a shower of umbrellas drops down to the earth. They beat on your back like hail, and you cry in agony, wishing you were mortal. And then you reach into the ground, aimlessly, pulling out a dusty mirror. Wiping it clean, you stare into it, expecting your own reflection. But instead, all you see is Mallinor."
All the while, Cupid was moaning and groaning, and now he awoke with a start. "Oh, the horror!" he exclaimed.
"What is it dear?" Psyche queried.
"The girl—she was a Gorgon, and then a fat lady, and then I saw her reflection in the mirror!"
"What girl, Cupid? Is this a new fancy of yours?"
"Not anymore she's not," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "Promise me you'll never change."
Now Cupid was resolved to get Brangdon in love with Mallinor. He hoped to never see her again, and had to wrap the photo in a cloth so that he would not have to look at it. His target was just entering the barn when he arrived there. Quickly he placed the picture on top of some miscellaneous items in a chest, and hid himself behind a curtain.
Brangdon entered the hayloft, and innocently walked over to the chest, discovering the picture. Cupid raised his arrow to shoot, but before he was able to, the boy put the photo down and examined a tennis ball. After discarding that item, he lifted a golden bow.
Psyche, I need your help, Cupid called, telepathically.
An instant later, as if she were a master of the art called Apparation, Psyche was at her husband's side. They spoke not a word, but understood each other nevertheless.
She sat down, Indian-style, and prepared to search for Brangdon's mind. She thought she found it instantly, and prepared to smile up at Cupid, but it was just a mouse. Finally, focusing all her energies on the task, she managed to take control of Brangdon's desires. Yet, he was mentally more powerful than any mortal she ever encountered, and she knew not how long she could hold him. Her powers only extended to either control or communication. Thus she was unable to convey this truth to her spouse. At last, she managed to incline the boy to set down the bow, and pick up the photo again.
Cupid straightened his bow, and fired. At that moment, he was filled with misgivings, but it was too late. Brangdon was enamored. And he, the son of the goddess love, would no longer be able to do this again. If he had been literate and asked to describe himself in a word, he would've said "defunct." Life as he knew it was over.
The next morning he was called before Zeus. So many others were present as well: Apollo, Hera, Hermes, Ares, Hercules, Poseidon, even Hades and Persephone. The latter was the most beautiful present, and behind her Demeter stood, proud and strong. Pallas Athena was smiling at him. Indeed, his own mother was the only one who looked downcast.
Seeing Cupid's bewildered expression, Zeus decided it would be wise to break it to him lightly. "You don't know what you're here for, do you?"
"To please you, sir."
"No, son of Venus. This whole celebration is all for you. Today you shall finally achieve adulthood."
"Haven't I been an adult for centuries?"
"In body, yes, but never till you were able to relinquish your ability could you have become a full-fledged adult. And now we shall present you with the 'Aurora of Adulthood.'"
There was a deadly silence all about. Nobody moved, and Zeus began to be exasperated. "Where is Narcissus?"
Hermes flew timidly up to his ear. He whispered, and the throng of deities could only catch Zeus side of the conversation. "GONE! What do you mean he's gone?...I should've known better than to trust a god in love with himself…Cupid not deserving, that's a misconception, I'm sure he didn't mean—" This went on for some time, until a point when Zeus' eyes bulged. "HE DID WHAT?...Okay, calm down. We can still go through with the ceremony." The latter remark was apparently aimed at himself.
"Hera, come forward," he ordered. Not willing to disobey, the goddess heeded his desire. "We have to use the green aurora, not the orange. Do you feel up to it?"
She scowled. "Certainly, if it must be done, but I'd rather not."
"It must be done."
"Fine, then." She then summoned a dolphin by playing a three-key note on her shark's tooth necklace. "Ziphon, I need you to swallow all the seas."
"But madam, that will destroy the human race!"
"And since when have your kind ever cared about humans?"
"It will kill all of my kith and kin as well, but we were already done for, in this late day and age. However, humans need to keep striving, keep persevering toward a goal. Their time on Earth is not done yet. But if you deprive them of water…"
"Zeus says it is necessary."
"Oh, by all means, if the king of the gods declares that mankind should perish in a body, then it will happen. Only, I request that he will kindly create a thunderstorm, so that people will kindly attribute their loss of water to him."
"Do you concur, Zeus?"
Not usually inclined to be agreeable, the All-Mighty decided there was no harm in playing with lightning on this occasion.
So the dolphin was sent down to Earth, and he began to drink the Black Sea. He did not want to drink. But as soon as his lips touched the water, he became thirsty, and he knew that no amount could satiate this drive. After this, he moved on to the Caspian, the Mediterranean, the Persian Gulf, and many others. He drunk them dry, watching all his friends die, as well as those fish that were naturally a dolphin's enemy. Moving on to the Indian Ocean, then the Artic, Atlantic, and Pacific, he lapped it up as quickly as he could. Yet, once all these prominent bodies had been depleted, he was not satisfied. Rivers and lakes followed in his diet, and not only fish died, but so did those few birds still extant who thrived on the flesh of trout, salmon, and other piscatorial delicacies.
Once he had delivered the Earth of its entire water supply, he returned to Mount Olympus.
"Thank you, Ziphon," Hera said. "Now we must call forth the best of weavers," causing Athena's spine to run with a chill of exhilaration, "Arachne."
"Arachne? But she's a spider!"
"All the more reason to congratulate her on her superior weaving ability. And now we are in need of it."
So the spider was summoned, with her eight spindly legs. Persephone cringed with repulsion; her mother may be the goddess of nature, and he husband the lord of the Underworld, but she had a natural revulsion for any critter that was not a biped or a quadruped.
"Arachne, I need you to weave a web around Ziphon." But the spider moved not a millimeter. Hera laughed. "Oh, excuse my presumption. You don't even know who Ziphon is, do you? Well, I will keep you in ignorance no longer, for he is the dolphin."
At this announcement, Arachne moved with uncommon pleasure, covering Ziphon in silk with a rapidity rarely ever seen in creatures of her ilk. For over eleven thousand years, the gods had never called her for anything. She had lived a solitary life, a legend among her species. She was dubbed "The Spider who Never Died," for, though she had been mortal when she contested Athena in their famous sewing competition, she had gained eternal life when that wisest of goddesses made her an arachnid.
Presently, the dolphin found himself encased entirely in a web. He could not struggle free, if he wanted to. "Now, Ares," said Hera, "bring forth the Gubraithian fire."
The god of war grudgingly stepped forward, and snatched a burning branch from a pouch on his belt. "Why must I do this?" he asked, handing it over.
"Because the boy must become an adult."
"More wars were fought over love than any other cause," Ares said, though this may be a slight exaggeration.
"Ares, it is time you stopped worrying about wars, especially since the human race is nearly at the end of its tenure."
He knew this was true, but he did not feel any better. (This last interchange between Ares and Hera was made in whispers, and there were no auditors but themselves.)
The Gubraithian fire was placed near the web, and it shot up Arachne's latest masterpiece. It consumed not only the flawless silk, but the quenched dolphin, who now felt fit to burst. Then Hera took out a green dye, pouring it over the flames. In almost no time, a halo appeared, giving off shimmering emerald light. She grabbed this gem, blew on it, and then presented it to Cupid, who bowed down as if he were going to be knighted.
"I now pronounce you an adult."
Cheers rang all about. This was a crowning moment in their existence—the day Cupid left childhood and emerged as a god, ready to rule his own dominion in Zeus' kingdom. Some deities, including Hades, failed to understand how Cupid being able to read would make Mount Olympus a better place. Still, when Zeus wanted something done, no questions were asked.
Three days later, Cupid woke up in a fury. How could Zeus do this to him? His reading lessons were backbreaking, and he had been told not to eat ambrosia for a week. It was no wonder he found himself in a bad temper. He had also yelled at Psyche the night before, and they had not had any altercations in so many centuries. He wanted to scream. Some scientist in history had declared this activity to be very therapeutic.
Instead, he made an effigy of Zeus. That evening he would burn it and laugh till tears fell from his eyes. Never mind the consequences; besides, what were the chances that Zeus would ever find out. He would be sure to conceal his action in such a desolate place that no deity would be able to spy on him.
At the same time that Brangdon was feasting his eyes on Mallinor, Cupid was lighting a match in a small cavern near the bottom of the mountain. "You shall pay for all your transgressions," he told the effigy, smiling wickedly.
It happens that Zeus was observing Mini Olympus at this time, not out of mistrust but from mere curiosity. He noticed nothing at first; everybody seemed to be at their normal posts—everybody except Poseidon, who had still not returned from his foray with the original Aurora of Adulthood.
But it did not take Zeus' eye long to perceive that a villainous act against his person was occurring in his domain. Rage filled his veins, as he watched himself being put to ashes under Cupid's care. "HERMES!" he thundered.
The messenger god approached him timidly.
"I cannot wait any longer! I'm going to send the Green Gnome to steal that aurora and finish off Cupid for good!"
"The consequences are too high, my liege. You must wait until Brangdon dies, otherwise you'll destroy Mount Olympus."
"And when will my son take his leave of this world?"
"In about a month."
For a moment Zeus was silent, his brow furrowed. Then a thought came to him. "But didn't the dolphin Ziphon drain the world of all its water, making it impossible for humankind to survive?"
"Yes, he did. And as we speak, myriad peoples across the world are dying from thirst. However, the city of Kiast—where Brangdon lives—is surrounded by oases, and there is a spring in the very center. Even if Ziphon had been able to drink this water, it has an unlimited supply. He would still be drinking yet."
"Curse that city and all its water! Cupid's defiance should not be tolerated much longer! Look there; he burns my head in effigy," Zeus said, pointing to the representation on Mini Olympus.
"Be patient, and your revenge will shortly be won," said the wise Hermes.
The king of the gods heeded this advice, and a grueling month ensued. Cupid was slow at learning, and after a fortnight he was barely able to read a book on the level of "Green Eggs and Ham." Meanwhile, people around the world had kicked the bucket, and only the citizens of Kiast survived. Many areas of commerce were ceased, for, like all intelligent civilizations, the people of the hundredth century knew that specialization of labor was the only way to get things done. Certain commodities, such as cotton, had to be foregone. The mayor sagaciously decided not to inform his citizens of this catastrophe, for they could find some way of blaming him for it.
But the day came when Brangdon was thrown down into the cellar, and perished. A day and a half passed before the ninjas were permitted to descend and fetch the body, presenting it to the mayor. Then Zeus knew he could take his vengeance on Cupid.
He summoned the Green Gnome from the Hall of Miscellaneous Beings. This gnome was best friends with Killsfrons, the dragon who struck fear into the hearts of mortals.
"My friend, I have a task for you."
"As long as it causes pain and injury to a party, I shall obey. But if it is in principle virtuous, I am obliged to decline."
"It is one of the former sort," said the king of the gods. He then directed the gnome to his design, that is to say, the artifice of stealing the aurora which lately crowned Cupid's crest.
With nimble fingers the greedy creature deprived Venus' son of this noble object. But, scarcely had he done so, that the years Cupid had lived began to recede. It was like watching a five-minute film of a person aging, only going backwards. While enveloped by Psyche's arms, he was transformed from a man, to a surly teenager, to a child of ten, and finally, to infancy, of which condition most Renaissance painters chose to portray him. After witnessing this harrowing transformation, the green goblin took his exit, smiling maliciously.
When Psyche awoke, she was alarmed to discover that a baby was in her arms. Could it be that the gods had granted her a child at last? Perhaps the stork Oberon had come in the middle of the night. She looked tenderly at it; he seemed to have Cupid's eyes. How wonderful it would be to see him grow up and thrive among the other gods and goddesses! This was a cause for celebration! There should be trumpets blaring and drums beating. No deities had had any children in centuries, and if this was the first…
She was going to call him Twinge. Where this name came from, she knew not. It just entered her mind out of the blue. And so she dubbed him, and for three weeks they lived in harmony.
It was not the manner of the gods to visit Cupid and Psyche's home regularly; indeed, so few of them liked Venus' son that they would rather eschew him, and his wife was no better. But after a long interval of not seeing her husband, she rang an ancient bell, which compelled Hermes to come visit her.
He knocked very lightly, hoping beyond hope that she would not hear, but her ears were supersonically enhanced at that moment, because she was concentrating all her powers on listening.
"Where is Cupid?" she asked, when she opened the door.
"No one's seen him for weeks," the messenger god said, discreetly.
"But that's impossible! He hasn't been here, either. Where could he have...?"
But her astute mind was already working its gears. "The baby! Oh, I thought…"
"Yes, you thought it was a gift from Zeus. Actually, it was punishment."
"But what did my husband do?"
"He used his last arrow on Zeus' son, Brangdon."
"It must've been some mistake."
"Believe me, if Cupid had known he wouldn't have shot him."
"But he had to! He was in love with the girl, Mallinor; he relished her picture and slept with it under his pillow."
"You mean that Cupid was in love with the mayor's daughter? No, no.." he said, looking worried. "This is bad. The entire fate of the world hangs in the balance."
"What is it?"
At first, Hermes was not inclined to answer. But, slowly he managed to find his voice. "The curse of the gods."
"That's it? Have you nothing more to say?"
"This is the end of Mount Olympus. Psyche, an evil has been unleashed. The city of Kiast is going to go to war with us. We, representing the only abode of the immortals, and they the only abode of the mortals. Hundreds of years ago, a prophecy was made, though no one knows the outcome. What was predicted was that mankind would be reduced to one town, through Zeus' recklessness, and that his raging temper is to result in the entire reversal of one of the gods."
"Entire reversal? What do you mean by that?"
"That the god in question would stand for something that is opposite his nature. For example, Ares supporting peace, or Hades becoming a cruel, lustful deity as he was portrayed in a pathetic Disney adaption in 1997. Or, in the case of Cupid—"
"He would spread hatred through his arrows, instead of love."
Hermes nodded solemnly.
"Well, thankfully he's a baby who has not yet realized his sensory powers. It'll be a while yet before he realizes he's a god."
"Actually, his knowledge of who he is should be rebuilding itself as we speak."
"No, no it isn't!" Psyche insisted. She turned to watch the baby in his crib, but he was no longer there. "Twinge—I mean, Cupid! Where has he gone?"
"Behind you," Hermes said, unsmilingly.
Cupid came around, still an infant, and was carrying a bag with a bow and arrows. He grinned at his wife, or mother as the case may appear.
"Get back here, you!" Psyche called, but Cupid flew out the window. He descended to Earth, but he searched for hours without finding anybody, and that was moving at the speed of light. At last he discovered the city of Kiast. A plethora of people just waiting to be shot! Oh, what joy! He put his bow in place to act a sniper and aim at random pedestrians. However, a gong was sounded, and Cupid, being naturally curious, attempted to locate the source of this noise.
Following it, he saw a beautiful maiden, the bride of an upcoming wedding. Cupid could not understand language yet, otherwise he would have known that the celebration was to be the next day. Ignorant of this fact or not, he had no qualms about shooting this lovely damsel, whom even in his babyhood he could acknowledge was charming.
His arrow hit her square in the heart, and a green fury was seen in her eyes for an instant. But Cupid was too tired and young to understand this passion, and he returned to Mount Olympus and the home of his mother/wife. The girl though, was wondering why she was being forced to marry a man whom she loathed.
The ceremony commenced normally, and appeared to be a typical wedding…well, as typical as it can get when a commoner girl marries a prince. Hock II was visiting from C. Detroit, a city in the Biseru Plains in what used to be the Northwest United States. He fell in love with Arrana instantly, and she had likewise shown affection for him. Their engagement was set for six months after their initial meeting. On their honeymoon, they would go to his town and enjoy several blissful evenings together before she was forced to undergo the trials of getting a princess education.
"Do you, Arrana, accept this man to be your awful wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, till death do you part?"
"I DON'T!" she shouted, to the immense surprise of the audience.
The minister and her bridegroom were sweating. "I know you must be having apprehensions," whispered the latter. "But they'll pass."
"These are not apprehensions!" she continued, at a volume which even Old Granny Watersfield, who was practically death, could pick up. "I hate you and all your insipidity! Wish I were dead rather than married to you of all people!" Then she lifted up her skirt, and started to run away.
"She doesn't know her own mind!" Hock II exclaimed. "I swear that she was kissing me with a passion two days ago. Seize her!"
But there was no girl to grab in the streets. All they saw was a pigeon, preening itself for a meeting with its mate. Arrana had disappeared.