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Rated: E · Short Story · History · #1741079
A true account without the prejudice given by the Greeks, Trojans, and various gods.
The Trojan War:
A History of

Compiled and Written by Clio1 & Mneme2

Edited and Translated into American English By Benjamin Marks


The Apple
         
         “I am sorry Eris3, but Zeus4 has ordered me to not let you in,” Hermes5 stated sternly.
                   “Even to give the bride and groom a wedding present to celebrate this wonderful day?” The dark haired goddess plead, unsuccessfully trying to make her crafty eyes look large and innocent. She was dressed in a traditional floor length chiton, the fine linen dyed a light green to match her eyes. Around her waist was tied a golden astrophion to secure the garment. Though the bright colors and her small stature helped her achieve the child-like innocence she was seeking, the robes did not quite cover up the glint of evil mischief in her eye. Above her Hermes stood, tall and unmoving, clothed in a knee length himation, which was draped over his left shoulder and colored a light blue. Bright light from the festive gathering streamed through his copper hair. Sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and conversation filtered through the open doorway and into their ears.
                   “Zeus was very clear on that part: Any gift must be given to me and I will personally guarantee that the happy couple receive it.” Hermes paused. He could see why Zeus would not want her to attend—she was the goddess of discord, and this wedding was too important to take the chance that anything, or anyone, would disrupt it.
                   In anger Eris tried to push past him and into the large banquet hall, but he shifted his wiry body and firmly planted his bronze winged caduceus in front of him to block her attempts. The metal snakes that twisted around the chest high pole turned and hissed at her. Their metallic eyes staring her down. His voice hardened as he gazed down at her, “Leave now Eris, before you do something you will regret.”
                   She backed up, snarling. “You fool! Nothing would have happened if you had only let me in, but now...” She held out her hand, where a large golden apple suddenly materialized. Before Hermes could react, she raised her arm and hurtled it over his head and into the wedding party beyond. He turned around, too startled to do anything but stare. Recovering his senses, he whipped back to Eris.
                   “What was that?” he asked, his eyes boring into hers. “What did you do?”
                   She laughed, a small smile curving her lips as she returned his gaze. “What do you think? If Zeus wanted an uneventful wedding, he surely will not get it now.” She turned away gracefully, took a step, and vanished. Her high, disembodied laugh hung in the air long after she was gone.
                   Hermes stared at the space she had recently occupied. His thoughts6  were in turmoil. He worried about what had just happened and wondered how Zeus would react. True, he did his job and did not let her in, but it still nagged at him, when she threw the apple into the party, the hairs on the back of his neck had risen. For some reason the whole incident felt like the beginning of something big and it bothered him greatly. He took one last look at the green countryside, and sighed, “Oh, well.” There was no point in staying here anymore, he might as well join the party now and enjoy himself. Turning around, he stepped through the doorway, and disappeared into the crowd.

The Party

                   “I love weddings,” Thought Apollo7. “Especially the parties afterward, they are just so full of life and energy. Plenty of food, lots of wine and, of course, many, many women.”
                   He gazed about the large hall filled with chattering, milling guests dressed in bright, colorful clothes. The grand, sweeping lines of the white and gold walls and roof came to a point far above their heads, where the smoke from the massive stone fireplaces and torches mixed into a dark mass, slowly escaping through a large hole provided for that very purpose. The bright torches hung in small alcoves, shedding plenty of light on the crowd in the fading daylight. Long, low-lying wooden tables stretched from one side of the room to the other, heaped with plenty of wonderful things to eat and drink. There were platters piled high with grapes, dates, pomegranates, figs, pears, plums, and other local and exotic fruits. Toasted wheat, honey cakes, and large loaves of fresh bread filled with almonds dotted the tables next to bowls of salads and fresh vegetables. Rabbit, deer, boar, and lamb sizzled on spits while jugs of sparkling wine lay about, some already half emptied of their contents. In one corner of the room minstrels played soft, slow pieces for the guests on drums, lyres, pipes and stringed citharas.
                   Apollo relaxed on a low kline. The high-backed wood and cloth couch was almost buried under the mound of pillows which he had gathered. He lay in comfort, observing the joviality with a slightly detached air. He had several things occupying his consciousnesses at the moment, and, although a wedding party was great fun, there were other matters that needed his attention.8 The Oracle of Delphi had just been killed, and trying to find a replacement kept him quite busy. Bringing the sun up in the other half of the world also occupied his attention9, along with stopping an outbreak of the plague in Athens, seducing a Mycenaean princess, and playing the lyre at a ceremony for a group of satyrs in a lemon grove.10 Apollo brought a two handled kylix to his lips and smiled as he sipped the cool wine and reveled in its slightly bitter taste, the shallow drinking vessel was quickly emptied. Suddenly a commotion in the far corner of the hall caught his attention and snapped several of his more unimportant consciousnesses back to the hall. Curious, he got up to investigate the cause of the ruckus.
                   To any casual viewer, it would have been odd to see, seeing Apollo, who had previously been relaxing, sit up and leave a perfect replica of himself still laying in the kline sipping wine. Casually he wandered over, occasionally peering over the heads of the taller guests. As he looked over the shoulder of one particularly tall goddess, he spied Zeus, striding down the hall towards the screeching.
The Fight
                   “Silence!” Zeus commanded. Immediately all yelling, and movement ceased. All faces turned and every eye focused on Zeus as he stalked down the center of the room. A path cleared for him as fearful gods and goddesses quickly stepped out of the way of his huge imposing frame. Small bolts of lightning snapped and crackled, playing across his gray thundercloud beard and snow white garments. Anger was clearly visible on his face as he stopped in front of three guilty looking goddesses. “What is the meaning of this?” he growled. All three took a slight step back, Hera11 was the first to speak.
                   “Zeus, my darling, we were merely having a dispute over the ownership of my gift—”
                   “Your gift!” an outraged Aphrodite12exclaimed. “As if! It is obviously my gift! I am the most beautiful! I am the—”
                   “Cease!” he bellowed, “I will not stand for any of this! What is this gift you are—” But he was interrupted by Athena13.
                   “What do you mean you? I am the most beautiful, I deserve the apple!”
Hera turned, pointing an angry finger at Athena. “Liar! You are just the favorite child of a faithless husband!”
                   “I command you to stop!” Zeus roared. A crash of thunder accompanied his words. “How dare you accuse me of being faithless?
                   Hera let out a cruel laugh. “I am your wife, dear husband! I have that right!” In anger she faced Aphrodite, eyes blazing. “As the queen of the gods I demand that you hand over the gift to me!”
                   Aphrodite sneered. “You cannot claim ownership simply because you are the queen! I am the goddess of beauty, it is natural that it is mine.”
                   Athena stepped between them yelling accusations. “You two think you are so high and mighty. What about me? I am the one who found it! I rightfully deserve it. The apple is mine!”
                   She made a grab for Aphrodite's hand, but before she could, Zeus stepped between them. A monstrous bolt of lightning struck the ground inches from their feet, scorching a blackened hole in the floor and momentarily blinding. Had they not been immortal they would have died instantly. All three goddesses froze in mid-struggle, their faces locked in anger and jealousy. The party guests watched in awe as Zeus surged upwards, rising until his head brushed the vaulted ceiling above. Coal black thunderclouds boiled around his head, and the ground rumbled beneath his feet. His body now towered over the wedding goers below. He looked down, piercing them with his steely gaze.
                   “How dare you disturb this gathering with your petty squabbling? You should all b ashamed of yourselves! Now what is the meaning of this? What could have possibly caused you to fight like children?” He angrily waited, but they remained immobilized. Rolling his eyes skyward, he released the the goddesses from his grip. “Now explain,” he rumbled. Athena stepped forward, head bowed in submission14. However, when she looked up, her eyes showed no trace of remorse. “I am deeply sorry, Father, for I did not mean for this incident to become so heated. That is the object of our dispute.” She said, gesturing toward Aphrodite, who held her hand aloft. In it rested Eris's golden apple, glinting softly.
                   Zeus held out his massive hand, and the apple immediately shot out of Aphrodite's and into his own. He held it up and examined it. It was much heavier than he would have expected, and it almost seemed to glow in the ambient light. He noticed the word—καλλίστ—intricately engraved all the way around it in deep-set Greek lettering15. As he stared, the letters seemed to swim slightly before his eyes. “An effect of the light, no doubt,” he thought absently to himself.
                   The more he gazed at this innocuous looking object, the more he could not believe that this was the source of the feud. Which one of them was the fairest? That was madness. However, he was not surprised. The jealousy that had driven the goddesses to quarrel was very common among the gods. “It is not the apple that they are fighting over, but their pride,” he thought. He finally understood. They fought, because allowing one goddess to have the apple would be admitting that they were not quite as beautiful as she. “Women!” he sighed in exasperation, and focused his attention back on Athena.
                   “I found it resting at my feet a few minutes ago, and when I saw what was written on it I took it. Aphrodite started to grab it at the same time I did, and we started to have a sensible discussion over whose it was.”
                   Aphrodite hissed angrily. “Just because you found the apple does not make it yours Athena. I have just as much right to it as you!” She whipped around and faced Hera. “And then, of course, she finds out and demands that we give it over because Hera's the queen.” Once again, all three goddesses were ready to face off. Zeus saw the potential storm brewing and moved quickly to end it.
                   “Enough!” he snapped. “I will have no more of this nonsense.” He turned to survey the large crowd that now surrounded the confrontation as he slowly shrunk down to his former height. “Hear me!” he roared. “Does anyone here believe that any one of these goddesses has any more right to this apple than the others?” He raised the apple in his hand and let it go, leaving it spinning slowly in mid-air, sparkling and dancing in the light. No one spoke. Hera, Aphrodite, and Athena glared at the sea of eyes, reminding them who they were, what they could do, and how painful it would be when they did it. Still no one spoke, too afraid to upset any one of the dangerous goddesses. Zeus turned back to them. “Then it is settled, no one may have the apple, I—”
                   “Wait!” a voice shouted. All heads turned toward Ares16, who stood there looking fearsome in his flowing red and gray robes. “I am sorry, Father, for interrupting you.” He paused, looking slightly embarrassed. “I am not really a good speaker, but I have an idea.” Everyone waited for him to continue, but he did not.
                   “Well? Speak! What is your idea?” asked Zeus impatiently.
                   Ares looked startled. “Oh, um... I thought a good idea would be if you have a single judge, someone honest, who would not be worried about offending the goddesses, but  knowledgeable enough to judge correctly.”
                   Zeus thought about it for a moment. “Well, do you have anyone in mind?” he asked Ares.
Ares nodded. “I, in fact, do. His name is Paris of Troy—”
                   Aphrodite's eyes lit up. “Paris of Troy!” she breathed excitedly.
                   Hera looked puzzled. “Paris? Who is that?”
                   “Paris!” Aphrodite continued. “The prince of Troy!”
                   “Why, do I not know him? I thought I knew all the princes there were.” said Hera with a frown.
                   “Well, you would not know this one. He is being raised as a shepherd in Mount Ida because of some old prophecy that he would be the downfall of Troy. Even he does not know who he is.”
                   “Then how is it that you do?” asked Athena suspiciously.
                   Aphrodite gave her a level stare.          “I am the goddess of beauty and love, and he is a prince, the most handsome in the world. Of course I know who he is.”
                   Athena turned to Ares who had remained silent throughout the exchange. “How do you know who he is, Ares?”
                   “A year ago he started fighting his father's bulls, pitting them against each other. When one started to win consistently he decided to enter it in fights with the other herdsman's prize bulls, where it became the undefeated champion. He promised a golden crown to anyone with a bull who could defeat his prizewinner in a fight. So I transformed into a bull, fought his bull in the arena, and easily defeated it. In shock, but without hesitating, he awarded me the crown. It struck me that that kind of honest judgment is just what you need.”
                   “Wonderful,” thought Zeus. “This will solve everything.” It would take the burden of decision from his shoulders and deposit it directly onto the shoulders of some poor mortal. “Let him take the blame for deciding,” he thought smugly. “I, for one, will not have my court torn apart because of some silly apple.”
                   “Well, then it is settled,” Zeus said out loud, clapping his hands once. Hermes stepped out of the crowd and approached.
                   “Yes Father, what is it that you require?”
                   “You are to take these three to Paris, Prince of Troy. He resides on the Mount of Ida. You are to take them to him so that he may judge the most beautiful.”
                   He turned to the three goddesses. “I want you three to go with Hermes to be judged by Paris. I forbid any threats against his life. He is a very important man.” Zeus knew full well that this would not stop the goddesses from exacting their revenge if they wanted, but it might stop them from going on a bloodthirsty rampage. 
                   “However,” he growled, “I also want you to stay here and attend the party. I want you to behave. All of you. I do not want another disruption.”17
                   Hermes nodded and all four gods rose up into the air and disappeared, leaving themselves behind.
                   Zeus turned to Athena. “How long until you reach Mount Ida?” he asked.
                   “We are almost there, Father. We can see him tending some sheep now.” She paused and smirked. “It was agreed that we would appear before him naked, you know, to ease his decision.”
                   Zeus harrumphed. “Well, try not to scare him too much,” he said as he turned to Hera.
                   “Dear, I am hungry. Do you think there are any honey cakes left?”
                   “I believe so.” she said as they walked away, side by side.
                   Although Zeus was a compulsively unfaithful husband who had affairs constantly and was forever proclaiming his undying love for some mortal, nymph or minor goddess, Hera loved him nevertheless and they never argued for long.
The Judgment
                   The sun was high in the afternoon sky. White puffy clouds drifted back and forth occasionally casting large shadows over the land below. Paris sat alone on a hill, his wooden shepherd's crook resting on a rock beside him. Black curly hair, and dark colored eyes complemented each other well and added to his overall appearance of vitality. Steely muscles along the arms and back testified to the enormous amount of tough labor which he had endured in his young nineteen years. His olive colored skin spoke of the hours he had spent outdoors. The rough wool smock customarily worn by farmers was his only clothing, draped over the left shoulder and tied at the waist with a length of rope.
                   The three goddesses approached him from behind, making no noise despite the loose pebbly ground. They stopped a mere four paces away and stood in perfect silence until Aphrodite cleared her throat. Paris whipped around, startled that anyone had crept that close to him without his hearing. As his brain took the minutes necessary to process what he was actually seeing, his eyes just got wider and his jaw dropped lower.
                   “Umm...uh, who? Wha—how? Uh...” he stammered incoherently. He continued to stare, his eyes bulging out at the sight of what stood before him. “Wh—who are you?” was all he finally managed to get out.
                   “Hello Paris.” began Hera, gesturing to her left. “This is Aphrodite,” she motioned to her right “This is Athena and I am Hera.”
                   Paris's face paled to a deathly white as he heard the famous names uttered.
                   “What...what do you want?” he squeaked out, practicably whispering.
                   This time Aphrodite spoke. “We have come because we need your help.”
                   He was awestruck. Before him stood the three most powerful women in the universe, and they needed his help. His mind turned numb, unable to grasp such a concept.
                   “Why me?” was his simple question.
                   “We are having a little disagreement. A small, inconsequential thing really. We would like to know which one of us is the most beautiful and need you to judge between us.” said Athena, leaning in and giving Paris a good long look at her body.
                   His head snapped up and around, stunned by her statement “You need me to tell you which one of you is the most beautiful? How—” then his eyes locked on what lay in front of him and he swallowed deeply. “How am I supposed to do that! You three are all so, so...”
                   “Amazing” offered Aphrodite, completing his sentence.
                   “Awe inspiring.” suggested Hera.
                   “Breath taking” volunteered Athena.
                   “Absolutely!” exclaimed Paris “All that and more, so much more!”
                   As his eyes focused back onto the faces of the three goddesses before him—not that they had ever wavered much—he suddenly became extremely indecisive. His eyes darted around, unsure of where to rest. “Should I stare?” he thought to himself “No I can not. They are goddesses, it would be impolite. But, maybe they are not aware of it, maybe this is normal for them, would they be insulted if I told them? What if they became insulted that I am not looking?" It was impossible to know.
                   “I, uh, um...” he started. “Do you know you are, um, not clothed?” he asked hesitantly, blushing as his hands tightened on his staff, wringing it back and forth like he wanted to choke the life from it. Aphrodite looked down distractedly.
                   “Oh, well I guess we are. I wonder how that happened?” she looked up with a white, dazzling smile. Paris gave a strangled cry and smiled weakly back, the knuckles on his hands turning even whiter the harder he gripped the rough staff.
                   Athena looked over at Aphrodite with a slightly disgusted look on her face. “Pay no attention to her, she knows perfectly well that she is naked. We all do. We wanted to give you the full view of ourselves so that you can make the best decision possible.”
                   Hera took a closer look at Paris. His face was still as white as a sheet of linen, his eyes were darting back and forth like a trapped animal and he was sweating even in the cool of the afternoon. His hands were gripping the vertical staff like his life depended on it, and it looked like he was depending on it to remain upright. The shock of seeing, not one, but three goddesses appear out of nowhere, naked, must be too much for him. She thought
                   Hera approached him slowly, cautious to not startle him any more. “Just relax” she murmured soothingly “We are not here to harm you.. My husband, Zeus has forbidden that.”
                   “Hera!” Aphrodite snapped. “What do you think you are doing?”
                   Hera turned around sharply but spoke in a soft monotone voice. “What do you think I am doing? How do you expect him to judge anything when he is like this!” she gestured toward his frozen figure. “I am simply trying to calm him down enough for him to function.” Ignoring Aphrodite she softly and with calming reassurance laid a hand upon his forehead. Immediately a slow wave of warmth spread down his body. His shoulders dropped, and the fists that he had maintained throughout the conversation unclenched. Leg and arm muscles relaxed, and the tic developing near his right eye stopped. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. He looked up with gratitude in his eyes.
                   “Thank you. I needed that very much.” Hera smiled and nodded, stepping back. Paris straightened up, still relying on his staff to support him, but not nearly as much as before. Color had returned to his dark cheeks and his eyes no longer looked quite as wild.
                   The situation bothered him, yet he spoke with confidence. “So,” he ventured. “All I need to do is to tell you which one is the most beautiful, and you will leave?”
                   “That is right.” Aphrodite said, while the others nodded their assent.
                   “And there will be no...” he paused as he tried to find his words. “repercussions?” He knew what they could do, he had heard stories.
                   “None at all. My husband Zeus does not want such an important person harmed in any way. He has forbidden us from holding you responsible for your decision.”
                   Shifting nervously, Paris looked puzzled. “Me? Important?”
                   Aphrodite quickly interrupted, it would not do to let him know who he was just yet. “Never mind that dear. We still need you to judge for us. It is essential that we know.”
                   Paris looked between the three goddesses, between three incredibly beautiful faces and three incredibly beautiful bodies. How could he possibly decide?
                   Hera's long brown eyelashes framed perfect emerald eyes, warm and inviting like a spring meadow. Her petite freckled nose and kind red lips rested above a slender neck followed by a slim shapely figure. She could be tender, but demanded getting her way in life. Her pale delicate skin was perfectly complemented by her short brown hair, nestled in looping curls and ringlets on top of her head.
                   Muscles rippled under Athena's dark sun bronzed skin, enhancing rather than obscuring her strong beauty. Her light gray eyes gazed out serenely, deep and daring, like dangerous whirlpools, brimming intelligence and kindness. Light brown hair flowed down to her shoulders, her full lips curved in a slight smile that softened her natural fierceness in the perfect balance of beauty and strength.
                   Turning he met liquid blue eyes, soft and and inviting like the endless summer sky, framed by alluring blonde eyelashes that stared at him from a perfect heart shaped face. Aphrodite had delicate feet tiny, fragile hands, and lips deep, full and crimson. Her long blonde hair caught the light. Enhancing the soft waves and ripples as they cascaded down her back.  Her sensuous body seemed to glow, pale as snow and soft as fleece.
                   Paris was stuck, how could he possibly decide between women such as these?
                   “I..I can not. I can not decide. You are all too beautiful for me.” he looked down in regret, “I am sorry I could not be of any more help to you.”
                   The goddesses looked at him in exasperation, their faces showed anger and impatience.
                   “Are you sure that you can not decide?” Asked Hera, leaning in closer. “Are you sure that you can not see a greater beauty?” she turned slightly. “How about now?”
Paris began to speak but was interrupted by Athena.
                   “Paris, look at me, do you like what you see?” she struck a pose, and took a step forward enticingly. “Tell me I am not the most beautiful.”
                   “Paris,” Aphrodite spoke “I am the most beautiful, look at my body, can you not see it?” Taking a step and lifting her arms toward him.
“Paris,” began Hera, advancing on him, shoving Aphrodite aside. “I am th—”
                   Paris stood up in panic “Stop!” he yelled, and immediately looked abashed. “Please stop,” he repeated in a softer tone. “I can not handle this. I am truly sorry, but I can not decide. You are all equal in my eyes.”
                   The goddesses all backed down, frustration flashing in their eyes.
                   “I refuse to leave here without an answer!” said Aphrodite stubbornly.
                   Athena looked deep in thought “Paris, if you give me the apple, I will grant you untold wisdom, skill in battle, and the abilities of the greatest fighters. You will be the most celebrated  warrior in the world, your name will forever ring in the annals of  history, nothing will be beyond your mighty reach.”
                   “Well then ye—” but before he could finish, Hera interrupted him.
                   “Do not listen to her, I have a much better offer for you, If you give me the golden apple, I will give you complete political power and control over all of Asia. You will be the most powerful man ever to live, you would be the ruler of the world, it will tremble before your might. You could have anything your heart desires.”
                   “Umm...” was all Paris managed to say before Aphrodite spoke.
                   “Paris, what good is being the ruler a vast land, or the strongest, wisest man in history if you have no one to share it with? If you give me the apple I will give you the love and adoration of the most beautiful woman in the world, Helen of Sparta. She could be yours forever.”
The Decision

                   Paris was in a dilemma. How could he refuse any of these glorious offers? Each one  an incredible opportunity, and each one would make him happy beyond his wildest dreams. Now he just had to decide which one.          Hera's offer, he thought, seemed like the most impressive. Complete control of Asia, and practically unlimited power. With that amount of influence he could send legions of warriors to do his bidding, and he could have any woman he wanted, even Helen of Sparta. The more he thought about it though, the more he realized that it was not the choice for him. To wield power you must rule, and to rule you must commit. He did not want to become a king weighed down with mountains of responsibility and work, he was a free spirit and would not know what to do.
                   He considered Athena's offer. To become the greatest warrior in history was tempting, no training, no commitment, just instant success and notoriety. He could be a wealthy man from all the conquests, and gifts grateful kings would give their champion. Thousands of women would compete for his attention, and with the vast amounts of wisdom Athena said she would grant him he could do anything he wanted. The more he thought about it however the more dangerous the life of a warrior sounded, and even though he would be the best there was, accidents could still happen.
                   He thought about what Aphrodite had said. Helen of Sparta, the most beautiful woman in the world could be his? Not only his to love though, she would love him back just as much. That was the best idea yet, no responsibilities, no danger, and no work. He thought about it for a while, did he really want this? The other two bribes were much larger and promise to become great things one day. He however, was a simple man and did not want much.
                   “I have decided.” he said looking up at the three goddesses. They eagerly looked down on him, breathlessly awaiting his answer. He took a second to gather his thoughts. This could be the most important moment of his life and he wanted to be sure that it was right.
                   “I pick Aphrodite.” he said with an air of finality.
                   Immediately the goddesses reactions were evident. Aphrodite's smile broke forth, a brilliant white beacon of happiness, she lifted her arms into the air and preformed an intricate bow for Paris. When she stood up she was holding the golden apple in her hand. “Thank you” she said gratefully. “We will talk later o' favored one.” and disappeared.
                   Hera and Athena reacted a little differently. Hera's eyes bulged outwards in rage and her face became a mottled dark purple. “How could you do this you little mortal worm! I am Queen of the gods! I will rip your heart out from your chest and feed it to the crows you slimy pig!” She lunged toward Paris who cowered back in fear.
                   “Hera! No! We can not! Zeus would be furious if he knew we hurt this bug.” Athena darted in front of Paris to block him from Hera's rage. “I will not allow it!”
                   Regretfully Hera backed down but continued to glare at Paris with hatred and loathing in her eyes. “I will get you mortal. For the rest of your life you will rue the day that you made this decision.”
                   “No! Please no! Do not! I—” Paris stammered
                   “Shut up.” said Athena vehemently “Hera is right, you never cross our paths, you should have made a wiser decision. Beware.”
                   Hera, still spitting curses at Paris and vanished into the air along with Athena.
                   Heart still beating frantically, Paris sat alone on his hilltop staring at the sky. “What have I done?” he thought miserably.

End of Volume 1

Footnotes
1  The following narrative was composed by me, Clio, and my older sister Mneme. We have made every effort to accurately reproduce the history of the Trojan War in its truest form as it originally unfolded without the prejudice it is often given by the Greeks, Trojans, and various gods.
2  Editor's Note: Clio and Mneme are the Greek muses of history and memory respectively.
3  Eris is the goddess of discord, a natural troublemaker that the gods mostly ignore or despise.
4  Zeus is the god of the sky and lightning bolts. He also the king of the gods, ruling over the Olympians at Mt. Olympus as a father and a commander.
5  Hermes is the messenger of the gods, ferrying important prophesies and letters for Zeus. He is god of farmers and herdsmen, poetry, trade, messengers, travel, the home, thieves, luck, omens, language and education, and athletics.
6  The inner thoughts and emotions of the gods in this story were attained through multiple interviews, written letters, diaries, firsthand accounts, secondhand accounts, eyewitness testimonies, our personal experiences, and through the help of my (Mneme's) emotion and thought retrieving abilities. For a full list of all sources please contact Polyhymnia at the Library at Alexandria.
7  Apollo is the god of the sun, truth, prophecy, medicine, healing, plague, music, poetry, sports, and the arts. He pulls the sun across the world every day and is in charge of the Oracle of Delphi.
8  Gods have the ability to split their physical bodies and consciousness This is not omnipresence, however, for there is a limit to how many levels of awareness a god can achieve depending on the strength of the god. The more the god's attention is split, the weaker the each individual consciousness is. However, even stretched at full capacity, each consciousness would still far exceed a human's.
9  Apollo has at least two consciousnesses aware at all times. One of them is constantly moving the sun around the earth. Only in the gravest of times, such as war, when he needs all of his power has Apollo ever abandoned the sun. That is why the sky sometimes becomes overcast and gray during war.
10  On any given day Apollo has from 50 to 100 aware consciousness—about average for a god. Zeus, who obviously has an extremely large amount of things to oversee sometimes has over 300 consciousnesses operating at once. The breaking point for any one god would probably be around 500 to 600.
11  Hera is the goddess of women, marriage, and childbirth. She is the wife and also the sister of Zeus.
12  Aphrodite is the goddess of beauty, physical love, and desire.
13  Athena is the goddess of war, civilization, wisdom, strength, strategy, crafts, justice and skill. She is Zeus's favorite child, born of him and Metis, the Titan of wisdom. Because of this Hera does not get along with her very well.
14  Zeus is the king of the gods and father to most of them. However, all major decisions are made by the council of gods which he leads, so a large part of his influence over the other gods is political or reverential in nature. In terms of the power each god wields, they are essentially equal, except in their different domains where they each rein supreme. If Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite had exerted some effort they might have easily broken free from Zeus's control of their bodies, especially with combined forces. As it was, it was intended to be more of a warning than an actual restrainment.
15  Editor's Note: When translated, this means “For The Fairest One”
16  Ares is the god of warfare, bloodthirst, slaughter, courage, weapons, defending and sacking cities, rebellion and civil order, and manliness. It is believed that every conflict is the doing of Ares.
17  Gods are very used to the type of contradictory wording Zeus used. Their ability to be in more than one place at once makes it possible. We will try our best to keep it as clear as possible throughout the narrative as to who is physically in a place and who split their consciousness and body. We are, once again, sorry for any confusion caused.

© Copyright 2011 Featherpen (flapflip3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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