A Hall of Mirrors

A Pool of Reflections

Kath watched the night sky turn to a million shades of purple and blue as Apollo, the God of the Sun, drove his chariot up towards the sky, marking the start of a new day. Her perch on the marble windowsill of the room she held at the palace on Mount Olympus gave her an unobstructed view of the sky and the gradual change from night to day. It comforted her, watching the sky. The predictability of its everlasting cycle meant it was easy to know if something had gone wrong - if an aberration had occurred.

As it was, she knew aberrations very well. It took one to know one.

Despite not having been able to sleep a wink, Kath slowly stood, her pale pink chiton dress dropping to cover the length to her feet. She walked to her bed and made sure to disturb the pillows and sheets well. If her mother knew she did not rest, especially knowing what today held, she would never hear the end of it. Well, she says mother, but that could not be farther from the truth. 

Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty, was by no means the woman that birthed her. No, but she wished that have been the case. It would have been easier to explain as well. Kath’s birth was most peculiar, you see, and it tended to leave a lot of people questioning whether she was Divine herself.

And if Kath was being completely honest with herself, she wondered that, too.

She sensed her— well, we’ll use the term ‘mother’ loosely here— before she saw her. Aphrodite’s power was something you could taste in the back of your tongue: cloying, sweet, irresistible. In fact, that’s how she perceived most gods and goddesses before she saw or knew them. She tasted their power, sensed their beings. Most times it was a gift, other times it was cruel.

Aphrodite made the show of knocking on Kath’s door before she entered, which she saw as mostly annoying rather than polite. They both knew of Kath’s ability to recognize anyone easily. It was boring pretense, she thought, to have to go through such motions. A curtain of gold peeked through her door before the stunning face of Aphrodite poked into her room. Kath patiently stood at the side of her bed, her hands folded behind her, a smile plastered on her face.

“Good morning, my sweet,” the goddess’s sultry voice echoed in her chambers. She entered the room fully. “Had a good night?”

Kath nodded but mostly she assessed how immaculately Aphrodite looked. Her hair was pushed back with a thick, sea-green headband with a few tendrils curled to frame around her face. Her eyes fluctuated color, a thing that annoyed her, and Kath focused, willing the goddess’s eyes to settle on a muddy brown. Aphrodite was all porcelain skin, high cheekbones, and soft curves of her mouth and body, highlighted by a very modern yet fitted day dress that matched the color of her headband. Her shoes also matched the ensemble; a high-heeled pair the same shade of color but with small, black polka dots patterned on them.

She was very well put together, and every morning when Kath woke up, she made sure that Kath was the same.

“Today will be breakfast with Zeus,” she continued almost apologetically, flitting about my bedchamber and fixing first my bed and then everything else. “I’m afraid he wishes to discuss with you tonight’s introduction.”

Kath nodded once more. “Will that be all?” she asked.

Aphrodite frowned, an unusual disturbance on her pleasant face. “This will be your first time meeting everybody,” she chastised. “We have a lot to do.”

“What if I don’t want to meet everybody?” Kath challenged, twisting the ends of her hair from behind her, eyebrow raised. “You and Zeus and Hera have kept me hidden and sequestered in this part of the palace for a hundred years now. Why do they suddenly wish to see me for the first time?”

A small, understanding smile played on the goddess’s pink lips. “Second time,” Aphrodite corrected.

Kath stilled, her surprise showing on her face. She had not heard of this fact before. Actually, she knew close to nothing about tonight other than the fact that after being carefully tucked away since she was born, allowed to see no one but Aphrodite and the King and Queen of the Gods, she was suddenly going to be subjected to a big feast, a spectacle, to introduce her to all of Mount Olympus.

It meant that every god, goddess, demigod, and creature would be there; to glimpse the ‘rare flower’ of Olympus, a moniker she’d been named, one she had read in the newspaper.

Aphrodite hurried her along and Kath was accompanied by two naiads, water nymphs under the gods’ employ. She was directed to the lotus baths, Hera’s favorite scent on her. There, she was promptly rid of her dress, scrubbed down as her chocolate-colored hair was lathered, and then dried carefully. All the while, Aphrodite watched her from the entrance to the baths, most likely avoiding get splashed at.

She smiled once Kath was dry and clothed with garments prepared for her by the nymphs and Aphrodite herself. It was a white sundress, with tiny yellow flowers embroidered into the soft and billowy fabric. She studied the flowers and frowned. Ever since she could remember, she had not been allowed to wear the same outfit twice. Everything was newly made and, once used, was thrown out. Kath had several dresses she had liked growing up and tried to hide them from the harpies that Aphrodite would set loose in her room to clean, but none of them survived their sharp sense of smell.

Kath turned for Aphrodite, this time not waiting for the usual order. She was impatient to get to breakfast and get some answers. Even if she dreaded being paraded so publicly after being so private for a hundred years, her blood also thrummed with the possibilities that will open before her.

“Very beautiful,” she heard Aphrodite say, pulling her from her thoughts. 

Being a lesser goddess, Kath curtsied. “Not more beautiful than you, my Lady.”

This was the right response, as Aphrodite smiled. She weaved an arm through Kath’s and started leading her towards the breakfast hall. 

The palace of the Olympians was made of empyrean matter. Not fine marble, like the statues that adorned the gardens, or pearl like the gates before it. The stone of the palace had a sparkling, peachy sheen to it and glowed beautifully once it was hit either by the rays of the sun or Selene's splendid, silvery moonlight. Kath and the goddess of beauty walked the halls now, to the lavishly obscene banquet hall on the other side of the palace, to the wing where public convening places were located. Not to mention, the farthest wing from her rooms.

As she walked, she asked a polite query, “What did you mean by ‘second’, Aphrodite? From earlier.”

She was given a sidelong glance before the goddess’ shoulders rose and fell in a delicate sigh. Kath knew better. She was only being melodramatic. “Everyone watched you being born, sweetheart,” her voice carrying in the massive area. “We all waited and watched as Mother Gaia forced the biggest rose I have ever seen bloom in the middle of the Winter Solstice and bring you to us. Our gift.”

Kate had heard the stories before, about how much like Aphrodite, she was born from Gaia's garden, right here in Olympus. The flower she sprung from was one that nurtured her for nine months and Kath had always thought how random it was to not be conceived through what she supposed were traditional means. But the winter roses she received from the earth of Gaia's garden every year on her birthday were so lovely she did not mind coming from them, if only to be pretty by association.

What she had not heard of yet was the audience she unwittingly had during that solstice. Kath had merely assumed that, since every Olympian except Zeus, Hera, and Aphrodite were forbidden to see her, no one was permitted to see her be born as well.

The two goddesses and the nymphs that accompanied them carried on the rest of the way to the banquet hall in silence. The halls became larger as they went, grander, and became more of the reflection of the gods powers and, Kath supposed, their wealth. Gold gilded everything Kath's eyes saw, accenting every accessory, every painting, every vase that she passed. This was the manner in which Olympus received every guest they had. Kath could count the times she had been here in her hands, and yet, every boast of influence and affluence still came as a shock to the young girl.

As they entered through enormous golden doors, Kath thought the banquet table was not any better. Meats boiled, roasted, fried, and cured lined large platters, fruits overflowed, bowls of different kinds of soups wafted their scrumptious scents into the open air. 

But beyond the glorious banquet table was perhaps the most beautiful panoramic view of the entire city overlooking the mountain. There were tiny houses of varying colors, a great amphitheater carved to the side of the other mountain that made the valley.  She could see the River of Eternity flow through the heart of the city, snaking around until it hit the sparkling ocean miles beyond. It was… it took Kath’s breath away.

“There’s my daughter!”

It was only because of that booming voice that made Kath tear her eyes away from the open windows. At the end of the hall, seated on the head of the table, was Zeus, Lord of the Sky and King of Olympus. By all means he was dressed down today, in modern clothing. His golden hair was smattered with silver, intense eyes startlingly blue like a cloudless day. He wore a button down, long sleeved shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, the top two buttons undone showing a peppering of golden chest hair, stark against his olive-toned skin. The pressed pants were khaki colored, and as he stood and roved around the table, approaching Kath she realized, the god’s features stretched into a warm smile.

Kath bowed, but Zeus waved the gesture off and dismissed the nymphs. “No formalities when it is family only,” he told Kath, his voice clear but a deep baritone. 

Standing this close, Kath had to tip her chin up to meet the eyes of Zeus, who looked at her under his Greek nose and cutting, strong jaw. She smiled and eyed him directly without a hint of fear, despite the rolling scent of his power: a clean brew of wind and spice. 

“Does the term ‘family’ include the rest of your council, father?” Kath asked with an innocent arch of her brow, much to the delight of the god.

Zeus’ booming laughter echoed throughout Olympus. “And the flower of Olympus has claws! Aphrodite, was this your doing?”

The goddess merely rolled her eyes and left us to sit beside Hera, who looked on with amusement in her green eyes. The Queen of the Gods was dressed in nothing less than finery fitting of her station. Pearls draped around her neck in two strings, all pink in sheen. Her midnight black hair was tucked in its usual updo that bared her lovely features. Kath’s eyes swept over the minimal makeup, the soft cheeks, the delicately pointed chin, and small mouth that seemed perpetually upturned to a smile whenever the girl was in the room.

Her own clothes, a floor-length dress of the finest of silk, contrasted beautifully on her smooth and pale skin. Not a hint of tan despite having lived for eons in the islands.

“Come,” Zeus said, tucking Kath under his arm and directing her to the seat already set to the left of the god. “We have much to talk about, you and I.”

Kath tried not to frown at the thought of getting into a long conversation with him. While Zeus had never been unkind towards her, something about the king’s haughty attitude grated at her nerves. Aphrodite knew it as well, but the goddess merely gave Kath a cool look.

She was allowed to eat first before the discussion would start, so Kath chose a fruit bowl filled with ice-cold milk and a sweet tart that had honeyed peaches atop it. It was good, better than good actually. The invisible cooks of the palace had always been incredible. Kath supposed that if one would serve the gods’ household, then one had to be so.

Conversation flowed from the adults, about gossip mostly, a topic that greatly bored Kath but seemed to always hold the greatest portion of the minds of the Olympians. There was always some scandal happening in some part of the world, always some nymph or minor god or goddess in trouble. 

Just thinking about it exhausted Kath. Why couldn’t they talk about something useful? Like politics. Kath liked politics, liked the rigor of the laws that held Olympus and the other domains beyond it. If not politics, then art! Or music. Not who was bringing who to her introduction party.

Disappointingly, Kath watched Zeus from above the rim of her coffee, the god seemed as engrossed in the topic as much as his wife and Aphrodite were. She huffed in mild irritation and decided that she needed to do something or else she’d probably be tempted to gorge herself into a food comatose.

So, Kath cleared her throat. Once. Twice. Three sets of eyes swiveled to her, the conversation halting. She pasted an innocent smile on her face. “Shall we talk about my introduction?” she said.

Zeus frowned but nodded. “Very well.” And then Kath was pinned with a steady eye. “Do you know why we are doing this after a hundred years?”

She shook her head. “Why?”

Muddy eyes flashed at Kath in warning. She ignored Aphrodite. “Because you are of age now,” Zeus merely said, smiling. “A daughter of Olympus, ready to be joined in society. Perhaps even find a husband.”

Kath reeled in her shock, her nostrils flaring the only sign of betrayal of her emotions. Married? They had to be joking. Hera’s elegant eyebrows rose as the queen said, “Do you wish to be a maiden goddess, Kathréftis?”

Full lips thinned. “Please do not call me by that name, and no, I will not be a maiden.” Over her dead body would she deny all the pleasures for her to experience.

But Zeus seemed to disagree with her on the former. “Why not? That is the name Gaia gave you. We’ve also been working on your title. Kathréftis, Goddess of Reflections.”

Kath balked. “Goddess of Reflections?” She looked at them wildly. “I have not exhibited any power other than the Sensing. Do you really want to name me as a goddess of anything?”

The Sensing. Kath’s ability to Sense a person’s essence and distinct personality. Not a power. More like a bloodhound’s altered, heightened senses. A goddess with abilities no better than a gods damned bloodhound.

Zeus waved me off. “If you want to argue, take it up with the Fates,” he said. “But you shall be introduced as such, and if it so happens that someone offers you marriage, do not accept just yet. They take it up to me, understand?”

“Why?” 

The defiance in Kath’s tone was not missed. Zeus’ face turned severe, the face of a lord that would soon mean thunder would be rolling off in the distance if further pushed. Kath didn’t care. A tingling in her palms spiked her anger even more.

From the corner of her eye, Aphrodite and Hera glanced at each other nervously, but Kath refused to break her gaze from the king of Olympus. Smoke curled in her mouth but she held fast. Spineless, she was not, and even if the hundred years of being hidden said otherwise, the matter of such a thing like marriage would be something Kath would never yield to the whims of the king.

Father figure or not.

Zeus didn’t bother to answer the young goddess and instead focused on smothering his anger. Kath tipped her chin up, jaw set.

“Don’t take it personally, daughter,” Zeus all but snarled, leaning back into his chair and reached for the wine. “Every godly marriage has to be approved by me. Everyone else knows this procedure of mine. I was merely telling you.”

Kath sat back on her seat as well. Fine, she thought. But she opened her mouth once more to make something clear. “I have the right to reject anything that might potentially be put on the table regarding marriage,” she ground out. “And not now.” Not for a long time, she wanted to say but bit her tongue.

It was Hera who said, “Of course, Kath. You will have a say on the matter.”

And it took all Kath’s might not to glance at her mother, at Aphrodite, who merely speared a kiwi into her mouth with all the focus a goddess could muster on such a small action. Kath swallowed and nodded once. Feeling much calmer now, she looked once again to where Zeus sat, regarding her with a tad less warmth than when this wonderful breakfast began.

“Will I be meeting your brothers?” Kath asked, with a little less ire now. “My… uncles?”

To her surprise, the Lord of the Sky chuckled. “Uncles,” he said, testing the word. “Yes, you will be. But if I may, Kath.”

The girl merely raised her eyebrows at the solemn look on Zeus’ face. “Hades remains queenless, and while I admit that my brother contains immeasurable charm despite being a brooding maggot, stay away from him.”

Kath knew better than to argue.