//------------------------------// // Part Ten // Story: The Rariad // by Tundara //------------------------------// The Rariad By Tundara 10: Gaea “Wa-ha-ha! Great Olympus, rejoice, for your queen has returned!” Hera proclaimed the moment Ares, Rarity, and she appeared on the outermost promenade of the holy city, overlooking the vast plains and rolling hills of Thessaly to the south, the Thracian Sea spread out in a sapphire canvass to the east, while in the north lay Maredonia, and the proud city of Aegea, beyond which was Thrace, and further still the lands inhabited by the savage barbarians who denied the wills of the gods, and were in turn rejected by the divine light of Olympus, and as such lived in wretched squaller.  Olympus was a city on par with Canterlot, if a touch more grandiose with gold capped colonnades lining the streets, painted engravings twining up their lengths, fountains of silver at every intersection, and domes of polished copper held aloft by marble statues topped the many palaces. There were no stores in sight, bathhouses and gardens taking their place. Galleries and museums stood on every street corner. About everything there was an air of otherworldliness, like Rarity had stepped into a fantastical painting of the idea of Canterlot, rather than the reality.  Alicorns of all sizes dotted the wide streets as they went about their daily routines. Hundreds upon hundreds, great and lesser, in pairs, alone, or small groups. Rarity had never seen or imagined such a gathering. There were the dryads, nereids, and nymphs, the oceanids, naiads, and horai, all decked in clothes of golden olympian silk. The winds were there too, the many granddaughters of Zeus rushing about as they carried messages or pushed the clouds out towards the mortal portion of the world. They were all dressed in garments white as the first breath of winter, or dark as a tempestuous night, with thunderbolt brooches at the shoulder proclaiming their service to mighty Zeus. Further along a group of furies patrolled, resplendent in their shining, striped armour and flashing eyes.  Among these lesser alicorns on whom much of the daily toil was placed strode the intermediate lords and ladies, alicorns a head taller than their peers. With small jewels or wreaths worked into their manes, there were the likes of Cupid, Hebe, Iris, and rosy feathered Dawn, all who sat drinking nectar and chatting in amiable comfort. Along the central lane were the three Graces, Thalia, Euphrosyne, and Aglaea, attended by a group of furies as they spent time in Olympus, visiting from the underworld where they usually resided.  Rarity and Ares stood a good head taller than even these alicorns, and it struck Rarity for the first time just how tall she’d grown in the past few years.  Few were the alicorns as tall as her, the number of Greater Alicorns sparse even on a world as populated with alicorns as Gaea. Only one such individual was in sight, and when Rarity got a good look at him she reeled back in shock. Rarity was confronted by the spitting image of a much younger and fitter Fancy Pants. Sapphire dark eyes danced, and his cobalt blue mane shimmered as it cascaded in luscious locks down a thick neck of bundled muscle. Another name leapt to the fore of Rarity’s mind; Apollo, and she had to forcibly push it down. The resemblance was uncanny, and she was reminded how Tyr had been confused by seeing ponies who looked like Gaea’s gods. Before she could speak, Hera leapt at the tall stallion, wrapping her legs around his neck. “Phoebus!” Hera theatrically cried, “I missed you so much! Ares has been mean to me again. Carry me back to my palace, and sing for me. Sing for me in your most beautiful voice and calm my frayed nerves! Never have I missed anything as much as I have missed your renditions these past few months!” “Dear Hera, I would love nothing more than regalling you with song and poetry.” Phoebus smiled, and it was like the beams of the sun slanting through grey clouds to banish rain. “But I must bring you to the High Halls so you may be judged for breaking Zeus’ commandment.” Hera pouted and crossed her hooves. “They have no right to judge me! I am their queen. Zeus has been gone two hundred years. He may never return. Surely we can visit the mortals again. The two houses have been made one. There is no need for fighting or war among the gods of Olympus.” Rarity was so shocked at seeing Phoebus that she missed Hera’s words. Had she parsed them she would have hardly been able to hold back a mirthless laugh given Hera’s whole reason in going to Athens had been to start a fight.   “I see Serene has at last returned to us,” Phoebus said with a jovial bounce to his laugh as he turned his attention to Rarity. “Though, in an even more beautiful form, as unimaginable as that would have been just a short time ago.”  “Serene is gone,” Rarity sharply said. “Don’t compare me to her. She was a loathsome mare. I am certain you do not care to be compared to Apollo, who you resemble so perfectly.”  Lifting one of his perfectly sculpted brows, the youthful stallion let out a chuckle that was like the opening chords of a ballad.  “Alas, this is the truth of the matter. As you are not her, nor am I Apollo. More so than the darling Hera beside us is not the same Hera who fills the heroic ballads. We all died, and would have stayed dead had we been mortals, but we are immortal, and death has no permanent hold over us. The day will come when Hermes too returns, though it will be longer yet, as his destruction was far more complete than our predecessors, and who among us alicorns can say the form he, or perhaps she, will take. After all, we are as eternal as the domains we represent.” “And what do you represent?” Rarity politely asked as they made their way along the wide lane, intent on anything other than the brooding Ares.  Phoebus again laughed, and the sound warmed her heart.  “Many things, and one thing; Some would say I am the Sun and Light, but that belongs to Hemera, and she would never release it from her grasp. Others say Music, and Poetry, but that is not it either, fore though I am without peer in Olympus when it comes to either, that is only due to their true owners being missing. Yet, more would say I am the God of Prophecy and Knowledge, but only as I have taken an interest in granting soul-marks to the Oracles since my return. Order and Beauty have been added to the ever-growing list; but Order is what all alicorns encompass in some capacity, and as for Beauty, well,” Phoebus nodded to Rarity, then continued, “Healing and Plagues have likewise been ascribed to me, but those belonged to the late Hecuba, and she too will return in time, I merely granting guidance to a few healers in the interim. Getting even further astray, very confused mortals claim I am the God of Archery and Agriculture! Surely they speak in jest, for that is very far from what I entail. No, I am the God of Protection and Guardians, giving council and wisdom to all who would watch over the towns, villages, or cities of mortalkind. The healers, the oracles, the kings, and the soldiers; they are all under my wings.”    Rarity found herself enamoured. Phoebus carried himself with every once of the dignity of his mortal look-alike. His voice was calming, and set the fears and anger brought about by Ares and his insufferable actions outside Athens to rest.  Perhaps Olympus wouldn’t be as terrible as she imagined.  “Well, darling, that all sounds rather bothersome, doesn’t it? To constantly be misplaced in your role among the gods?” “At times,” Phoebus conceded, tilting his head ever so slightly. “But it is also rather amusing at times.” “For you,” Ares snorted and stepped past the younger god.  “Now, brother, be not sour! It ill-suits Olympus to have one of the Twelve always so stormy with father Zeus away. You are still without peer among us in matters of warfare and battle, besting my former incarnation in single combat.” “Not just him. I crushed that entire false pantheon of rebels,” Ares rumbled, his shoulders tensing in wild ripples. “Your predecessor was one among many.” Rarity shivered at Ares cold dismissal, horrible images dragging across the edges of her will, dredged up from the skeletal remains of Serene’s buried memories.  Flashes of Serene’s final moments pierced Rarity. The fear and anger as the Citadel of Light was smashed by Ares, Niomedes, and Hera. It took only the three of them, with their monstrous army, to overwhelm the ten remaining gods of the citadel. Of Hemera and Nyx there were no clues in Serene’s memories, and Aphrodite had surrendered early in the night, bowing her head before the invaders alone when her pleas to her family went unheeded. The remaining alicorns stood in defence of their home, and Ares struck them down one by one until Astraea had hurled a hundred stars from the heavens in a final, desperate gamble.  With a heavy shudder, Rarity forced the alien memories back into their box, and looked around to see if anypony had noticed her being lost in thought.  If anypony had, they politely made no indication.  Hera pranced along beside Phoebus, the two following Ares as he marched towards the palace highest upon Olympus. Other alicorns stepped aside with heads bowed to let them pass.    As they made their way towards Zeus’ palace, Rarity had time to wonder if perhaps Hemera, Nyx, or Aphrodite were in the city. They had survived the calamitous end of the citadel and the short lived pantheon they’d formed. If Ares was correct, and all alicorns on Gaea were in the city, then they had to be somewhere near.  It was impossible to know for certain. With so many alicorns in the city, her alicorn senses were swamped and overwhelmed. Rarity couldn’t sort through the crashing cascade of powerful tingles that danced along the back of her mind. The most she could discern were that there were perhaps a few more than dozen Greater alicorns in the city.  A considerable number, but far fewer than there’d once been residing on Gaea.  Rarity shuddered and unconsciously rubbed where Ares had rested his brutal axe, slick with golden blood, against Serene’s throat. Zeus’ palace was open and airy, wide pillars holding aloft glass domes with almost no walls to hinder the view of the surrounding city and lands. The floor was made of cloud-marble like the cities of the pegasi, with many annexes floating around the central hall where twelve thrones resided in a half-circle. None of the thrones were occupied, leading Rarity to suspect that the hall was rarely used. Behind each throne stood a towering aurichalcum statue of the Olympians.  On the wings were the thrones of Phoebus and Aphrodite. Next to them stood Artemis and Hephaestus, respectively, followed by Athena and Demeter, though, if Rarity hadn’t known better, it was Fluttershy who stood behind Artemis’ throne, and one could easily mistake Athena for Fleur de Lis, and Demeter’s statue hardly resembled the mare from Serene’s memories. There was even a throne for Hermes next to Athena.   The remaining thrones were more closely aligned to Serene’s memories.  On the right, across from Hermes, stood Ares’ throne, the bloody hooved god going straight to sit on its thick, velvetine cushions.  Next to him resided Hades and then Hera, while, on the other side, were Hestia, Poseidon, and finally, the Zeus’ empty throne.  “Where is everypony?” Rarity wondered aloud, looking around the empty hall with its vacant thrones. “And what happened to…?” Rarity indicated the thrones. “After punishing everypony, Zeus decided to shake things up and change the Olympians,” Hera casually explained as she skipped to her throne and scrambled up the stairs leading to the oversized cushions. “And the Miora came, and told him a whole bunch of stuff. He expelled Nessus, Alke, and Niomedes from the High Halls, and Hecate’s throne was passed on, as she’d only ever been a member as a favour to Hades. Dionysus gave up his throne of his own accord. He hates being tied down by responsibilities, and is much happier now.” “But, almost half of these alicorns are dead or missing, darling. Aren’t they?” Taking his seat, Phoebus said, “The Fates are never wrong, and this was the council they decreed. ‘The Olympians as they’d been and were meant to be’, I believe was what they said.” “A preposterous arrangement,” Ares snarled. “Athena, Artemis, and Demeter are gone for good. Destroyed by the lowest of cowardice rather than face the punishment for their transgressions against Olympus. Astraea saw to that.” “Your mighty father, Zeus, Greatest of all the gods, will find them,” cut a voice as sharp as a polished bronze arrowhead flying at the throat of an enemy.  From the side entered a pair of mares instantly recognisable, and yet utterly foreign.  The first was a tall mare of exquisite white, pastel aura mane gently drifting down her supple neck. About her throat was clasped a golden peytral emblazoned with the image of a seven limbed sun. Over her withers rested a gossamer dress that trailed behind her as she swiftly crossed the hall and took a place within the ring of empty thrones. The only thing about her that prevented Rarity from crying out Celestia’s name was the golden sash wrapped over the mare’s eyes.  It were other names that came to Rarity’s tongue, and she politely bowed her head to the Goddess of Light as she said, “Lady Hemera, Lady Nyx; it is wonderful to make your acquaintance at last.” “Oh? Is it truly? We’d all gotten the distinct impression you had no intention of calling upon holy Olympus and giving us the pleasure of entertaining you, o’ Goddess of Beauty. Hoarding yourself for the mortals alone, and denying us the opportunity to show you our boundless hospitality,” spoke Nyx.  As similar as Hemera was to Celestia, so too was Nyx the spitting image of Luna, but as she’d been under the guise of Nightmare Moon. Her brilliant black coat shone with every subtle movement, and nebula mane continually flowed in a light mist that broke apart at the tips. In the same manner as Luna and Celestia, Nyx mirrored her sister with a matching peytral of silver, and a thin, silken dress of black. She wore a smile even broader than that of Phoebus, and her aquamarine eyes sparkled with amusement, though whether this was directed at her or something else, Rarity couldn’t discern. Ares issued a deep groan, and Nyx rounded on him.  “Dear nephew, why do you moan and gripe like a boar with a spear in its belly? You have a place among the Olympians, and may make judgements in Great Zeus’ absence, while we must content ourselves with being mere guests in these halls.” Her smile was coated with a poisonous honeyed glow, the slightest pinch in the corner of her eyes telling a tale of many verbal wars that had been waged between the pair. “It was such belly-aching that led to the first schism. You would not wish to be the cause of another, would you?” “If you were brave enough to leave, you would never have stayed in Tartarus with Hades, waiting to be rescued from his dark realm, rather than ceasing your own emancipation,” Ares countered.  Rarity expected a flash of anger, or perhaps a look of faux-shock, but instead Nyx merely giggled. “Yes, we are a coward. Had we been brave, we would have stood and fought alongside our daughters and nieces, and be lost now as well. Alas, here we are, enjoying the nectars and ambrosia of fair Olympus, surrounded by plenty, while they no doubt scrape and scrabble for the meanest of existences, in lands only the Fates know.”  Ares’ face contorted through a series of emotions, fury and disgust most prominently, before settling into a sour grimace. Fast hooves clicking on the cloudstone announced the next arrival before the argument could go any further.  Dark brown, almost black, mane held in a pair of whip-like pony-tails bound by blue ribbons, a diminutive mare stomped her way into the hall, crossed the open part without so much as looking at anypony else, and took her seat.  “Okay, let’s make this fast. I need to get back before—um, I don’t have time to waste here.” Hestia’s face went red beneath her creamy coat, and she crossed her hooves and looked away. “‘Back’?” Hera chirped, leaning over the legrest of her throne towards Hestia. “From where? Has the virgin Hestia been chasing after a stallion again? Wa-ha-ha! She has! Look at her face, Hemera! She’s been sneaking out as well.” “I have not!” Hestia countered, jabbing a hoof at Hera. “I am fully within the laws as laid down by father!” Covering her growing, cruel grin, Hera’s features darkened with triumph. “So, you do not deny chasing after a stallion then? Is he a mortal? She grows redder still! He is! He is a mortal! Oh, sweet irony! Pure and virtuous Hestia is smitten by a mortal!” “Enough!” Ares roared, slamming a hoof down on the legrest of his throne. “Hera and this intruder have broken Zeus’ laws, and must be judged!” “A queen—” “Hera, consider your next words very carefully. Nopony can be above the law, lest it ceases to function.” Hemera’s sightless gaze burned on Hera.  Folding her hooves, Hera continued, “I was going to say that a queen must know the difference between the spirit, the intent, and the functionality of a law and when it is to be applied. I went down to the mortal city to punish Rarity, and when she didn’t leave, I had to stay.” “I have never heard an excuse so thin,” Hestia remarked, kicking her back legs with restless irritation.  “Well, it hardly matters anyways!” Hera threw up her hooves. “There isn’t a plurality of Olympians, so no decision or judgement is binding.  A low grumble of agreement circled the hall, and several eyes turned towards the empty thrones.  “Yes, where are the others?” Ares demanded, leaning forward and gripping the edges of his throne tight. The god-smithed aurchalcum groaned. “They should be here.” “Aphrodite and Haphaestus returned to their volcano just after you went to rouse the Spartans. As for Poseidon, he hasn’t been in Olympus in a hundred years!” “He is meant to be our leader in Zeus’ sted, while father scours the other worlds for our missing kin,” Ares pounded his hoof, a thunderclap issuing from the blow. “Word was sent before I left that he was to come and be here.”  “Well, that speaks more to your own foolishness than his,” Hera teased. She payfully toyed with the edges of her mane, and smirked triumphantly at Ares. “Poseidon was probably appointed because he has no desire to rule Olympus and run this pantheon of gods. His only thoughts are towards the waves and Amphetrite.” “I thought it was because He and Zeus were inseparable in their youths,” Hestia commented, glancing towards Phoebus for confirmation, to which he merely shrugged. “No doubt there is some reason, some unfathomable justification,” spoke Hemera, “But it is held within his council alone.” “Who be even us to question Zeus and the Fates; but, why you, Lady Hemera and Lady Nyx, were left off the council when others who may never return were given places of honour upon it is a mystery.” Phoebus nodded to Hemera and Nyx, and they returned the gesture. “Since a quorum can not be reached at this time, I propose that the judgements of Hera and Rarity be postponed until such time as sufficient members of the pantheon have gathered that one may be achieved.”  “Seconded!” Hestia and Hera both chimed at the same moment. “This is a farce!” Ares fumed and leapt from his throne. “Zeus laid down one unbreakable law before he departed; that alicorns were not to go among the mortals until he returned. And you all flaunt and disregard his commands!” Rarity watched the exchange with calm calculation, outwardly smiling as she’d done in her years among Asmodeus’ court. Darting glances to the other alicorns, making note of the slight pinches to their mouths, or the way they would tense on their thrones, gripping a legrest or swishing a tail in irritation. Already, Rarity was gaining a grasp on the power at work, who held it in name, and who in actuality.  “Since when did you become such a stickler for what Zeus commanded?” Hestia leaned a cheek on her hoof. “I remember you being the most prolific law-breaker, forever going behind his back and making mischief. Didn’t father once say, ‘I hate you worst of all the gods in Olympus, for you are ever fighting and making mischief. You have the intolerable and stubborn spirit of your mother Hera. If, however, you had been the son of any other god, you are so destructive that by this time you should have been lying lower than the Demons’?” Ares’ face went redder still than even his ordinary crimson hues, and his mane took on the aspects of roaring flames. His eyes blazed with malice, and his teeth ground together like the great plates of the earth that resides upon the disc.  “And it is only He that stays my hoof now, and the knowledge that when He returns there will be a reckoning for your misdeeds. My reckless youth is behind me, and I have grown into a dutiful son. Can any of you say the same?” With this Ares marched from the great hall of thrones to his own palace, there to brood and plot in his impotent fury.  After Ares left, Hestia hopped down from her throne, smirking with juvenile pleasure. “Well, it has been a pleasure, as always, but I really have things that need my attention that are actually important.” And she too rushed off without another word.  “Well, looks like it is just us then,” Hera grinned as she and Phoebus left their thrones to join Hemera, Nyx, and Rarity in the middle of the hall. “Since I was your ‘guest’ in Athens, you will be mine in Olympus,” she said to Rarity. “Phoebus, come and sing for us!” Chuckling, Phoebus excused himself. He had other matters that required his presence. “I am off to keep an eye on Chryseis, as she is a pony I blessed. Overhearing your concern for her on the fields outside Athens, dear Lady Rarity, touched my heart, and I have resolved to vouch-safe her during her stay in Sparta, long as it may be.” “Wait, I thought we had to stay in Olympus,” Rarity called to the departing god.  “Yes, and no.” Phoebus didn’t explain further, spreading his large wings and flying out through the large columns. Rarity let out a little huff. Well, there were other ponies she could prod and poke for the information she needed. Ancient ponies with ancient knowledge. It would be dangerous, but after Amaymon, Rarity felt confident she could tease out the threads she sought.   “Come on! Let’s go have some ambrosia and nectar,” Hera fairly skipped along, humming and bouncing her mane in total confidence. She led Rarity, her own expression one of quiet contemplation, deeper into the palace. This was Zeus’ palace, afterall, and as such, also the home of Hera. “You are going to love it in Olympus! It is my city, and as such, the greatest city on any of the myriad discs. Maia, Electra! Maia? Electra? Where are those two useless hoofmaids?” Hera slowed and looked around, finally realizing that her hoofmaids were nowhere to be seen. “I do believe, darling, that you left them back at the temple in Athens,” Rarity pointed out, still chewing over Phoebus’ parting words.  Hera’s face reddened, and with a ‘humph!’, she marched faster through the palace. “When those two get back, they will be in so much trouble!” She exclaimed as they entered her parlour, replete with thick goose down cushions, splendid golden curtains, and ornate tables set with golden cups, a pitcher of nectar, and an enchanted bowl of cool ambrosia.  The goddesses all took seats near the westward windows, the sunlight slanting through painted glass to create dancing splotches of colour, and Hera gave out cups of nectar and bowls of the sweet ambrosia. Rarity’s eyebrow curved ever so slightly as she was given a bowl. There were marshmallows and a variety of fruits such as cherries, coconut, pineapple, and little oranges, all wrapped in whipped cream, then drizzled with pecans. It was a dessert Rarity was accustomed to in Equestria.  A slight squeak came from Hera as she gobbled down the first few bites. “Oh, sweet, sweet ambrosia!” She sighed and flopped backwards on her cushion, legs splayed outwards in a daze.   “This is not what I was expecting,” Rarity admitted after savouring the first few bites.  “And what were you expecting ambrosia to be?” “Well, not a fruit salad. We have this back home.” “Impossible!” Hera exclaimed, shooting upright. She jabbed a hoof at the bowl hovering beside her. “How can mortals have marshmallows? Or all these different fruits and nuts from vastly different worlds? This is a treat that only alicorns can know! These nuts were given to me by Maui. This fruit was a gift from Quezecotl, and these from—” Rarity held up her hoof, and in turn pointed to the same fruits. “On Ioka, pineapple and coconuts come from islands in the south-west, pecans are native to Equestria, Oranges originated near Neighpon, and as for marshmallows, they are simply made from sugar, syrup, and gelatin. It is an expensive treat, as a result, but not exactly uncommon, darling.” Hera stared, open mouthed, in abject horror. “You mean… mortals enjoy ambrosia on Ioka? But… My garden…” Nyx giggled. “Dear Hera, Queen of the Gods, it is only natural as Ioka was one of the youngest worlds, and as such, was blessed by the endeavors of all the gods and goddesses of agriculture and horticulture. Gaea is much older, the first disc as a point of fact, and many were the plants and herbs that were yet to be created when She was molded and life seeded across her barren lands.” Mollified by this explanation, Hera sank back into her cushion, and returned to savouring her salad.     Turning to Nyx, Rarity wondered aloud, “Is it possible to be among mortals if they are unaware we are alicorns?” Nyx merely smiled, and said, “The precise meanings of Zeus’ commands are oft discussed, as are the intents, though few would claim to know his true intentions, but only guess at the outcome sought by the laws he forms.” “So, Phoebus would be disguising himself then,” Rarity reasoned.  “As does Hestia when she sneaks down to Orario. Or, how Hephaestus and Aphrodite have ‘escaped’ to Mount Aetna, a place with no mortals to be among, and even little Poseidon, master of the oceans, hasn’t set hoof in Olympus in a lifetime as reckoned by mortal-kind. Indeed, Ares is perhaps the only pony who is able to leave Olympus who has also never flaunted Zeus’ last commandment.” “But, I heard many stories about him and the Spartan princess while I was in Athens. That they had a son together, and,” Rarity quickly snapped her mouth shut as Nyx, Hera, and Hemera all rounded on her with deeply ingrained sour expressions. “It is impossible for mortal and immortal to breed,” Hemera growled deep in her throat, and the stark similarities between her and Celestia were burned away from Rarity’s mind. The glowing goddess of Light burst into a crackling corona of radiant heat, mane aflame, and wings wide as the halls began to tremble. The air sizzled and popped around the enraged goddess, and from within the empty sockets of her eyes, behind the golden cloth covering her face, grew two new suns, dim at first, but within moments, roiling and difficult to look upon without being blinded.  Rarity, to her credit, held her ground.  “That is simply untrue,” Rarity countered. “Equestria is governed by Princesses Celestia and Luna, the daughters of Faust and Emperor Seung, a unicorn. And Luna has a daughter, Princess Cadence, though her father is unknown. And my good friend, Princess Twilight Sparkle, her father was a mortal, while her mother is Iridia, the alicorn of Spring. So, alicorns must be able to have foals with the other races.” Rarity was rather pleased by her logic.  The three goddesses around her were less so.  “Wa-ha-ha! It is obvious! A wandering, worldless alicorn is their father. He beget the divine foals, then continued on his way. Stallions do it often, I am told, so mares must protect themselves from their lecherous ways.” Spoke Hera, Nyx and Hemera nodding in agreement. “Is that possible?” Rarity wondered aloud, tapping a hoof to the side of her chin, a picture of contemplative innocence. Exactly as she intended. She was beginning to understand the Olympians. And what pressure to apply to get what she needed. “To travel between worlds so easily?” Nyx and Hemera both grew reserved. Hera, puffing up her chest, let out a laugh. “Easy? It is nearly impossible! You would have to convince the foul rivers that bind the myriad discs to the Underworld to allow you passage, and they would never allow it. Their course runs only one way, and that is down. Only the boatponies know how to navigate the rivers, and they carry only the dead. Some gods have secret passageways, or realms hidden in the sliver thin spaces between the astral mists and the sea of aether, through which they have access to other discs. You would have to find a door to one of these realms, and then negotiate with the alicorn who controls the place, and very, very, very few take kindly to intruders, as the only reason another alicorn would enter such a place is to steal it for themselves, or so the thinking goes. Even Zeus, mightiest of gods, had to bargain with Hades to make use of the Golden Gates of the Underworld, forged by Hephaestus when the worlds were newborn and the mortal races had yet to be sculpted from the clay of creation, by which Hades and the other alicorns who rule over the afterlife may visit the mortal realms. But, Gaea’s gate was destroyed by Athena when she slew Hecate as she plucked Nyx and Artemis from the Underworld, and so Gaea has been cut off from the other worlds.” Hera continued for some time, telling tales of how the alicorns used to visit each other often, sharing gifts and knowledge. Sometimes there would be marriages between pantheons to strengthen their ties, and at times they’d fight and war—though the wars could hardly be thought of as more than little scuffles in reality, as all one side had to do was close their gate for a time and the other was left impotent and unable to attack. Once tempers cooled, they would reconvene, gifts would be exchanged again, and the cycle would continue.   Nyx and Hemera neither attempted to quiet her, or add to the discussion, beyond nodding or clarifying certain historical points.  “If Hephaestus made these gates, could he repair or replace the one Gaea lost?” Rarity asked.  “Oh, yes! There is nothing he can’t build!” Hera clapped her hooves with sudden, and vigorous intensity. “It is actually surprising he hasn’t done it already. Maybe that is why he has returned to his workshop, where all manner of interesting and wondrous delights are crafted to his inscrutable designs. He is a god of fire and invention, of creation and wonder, his mind as beautiful as his form is ugly, as he is a maimed god and disgusting to look upon. For my first centennial he made me a gift of an articulating, clockwork lotus that would play music as it opened with the dawn, and sing a lullaby at dusk as it closed.” Hera retrieved the clockwork flower, and it was as delicate as it was beautiful. Atop a circular base of painted wood, covered with glass to appear like a small pond and show the inner workings, rested a large water lily made of gold. The petals were as thin as a butterfly wing, with intricate detailing along the edges. Tiny gears opened the flower, all under mechanical power alone, not a trace of aether or magic anywhere in the wondrous artifact. They spun silently, without even a whisper of a click, counting the seconds to sunset and sunrise, factoring in the changes to the length of time it took the sun to cross the sky from day to day.      “My word, the brilliance required to conceive, let alone make, this clock!” Rarity exclaimed as she examined the flower. “I suppose I will have to go visit this Hephaestus.”  “No! That is a very bad idea!” Hera quickly interjected, laying a hoof on Rarity’s leg. “When Hephaestus is working he despises all interruptions, exploding like the volcano in which he resides at the slightest break in his concentration. Even Aphrodite, who he loves like no other, as she is the source of his highest inspiration and wildest disappointments, may not intrude when he is at work.” “Well then, how long do you think it will be until they return to Olympus, darling?” “Could be as little as several months, or many years. It all depends on what he is creating.”  “It is best that you wait here, with me,” Hera concluded, smiling sweetly. “We will have so much fun watching the mortals! I wonder what they are doing. Should we watch? Yes! Let us! Hemera, could you please conjure us a viewing mirror, that we may observe the mortals.” Rarity sighed, setting aside her emptied bowl, and leaned forward to observe the silvery disc that Hemera summoned with a swish of her horn. Within its glistening surface appeared the ponies of Athens on the docks of Piraeus. Under Mystalicus and Trixie’s directions they feverishly worked on the boat that would reshape the fortunes of Athens, and alter the course of Gaea’s future.