The God of Clay and Fennel Fire: A Retelling of The Golden Goose

Chapter XIII: Marble and Ambrosia

The house was quiet as Prometheus neared. The sun was already below the horizon, and candlelight glowed from the windows. The door opened with a creak and Prometheus stepped into the tension filled room. In the dark—the candle did little to light the shadowed corners—Deucalion sat, his back to Pyrrha and his arms crossed. His eyes were locked on Pandora who sat on the edge of the bed, glaring back.

Prometheus closed the door behind him. "Did she behave?" he asked Deucalion.

"As best as one such as her could."

"You can leave now," Pandora said, raising her brows at Deucalion. "Your betrothed is in safe hands now."

Deucalion stiffened and glanced up at Prometheus, who nodded at the door. Deucalion gritted his teeth. Pandora smiled and waved as he left.

When the door groaned shut, Pandora's gaze fell onto Prometheus who took Deucalion's seat.

"You can leave as well," Prometheus said.

"Are you certain you want me to?"

Prometheus didn't respond but began rifling through the scrolls and tools on his table. Perhaps—perhaps—he was wrong about everything and Pyrrha's blueprint was still around.

Pandora sighed. "What is your plan, Prometheus, for your creations? Do you truly think that humanity will be strong enough to withstand the burden of life throughout the ages if their blood comes from the clay-born? Would it not be better to have a touch of the divine in their ancestry?"

Prometheus did not turn around. The blueprint was definitely not there.

"Can you imagine it, Prometheus?" Pandora's voice sounded far away. "If we were to secure the prosperity of your people. A Titan and a daughter of the gods: Marble and ambrosia instead of clay and water."

Prometheus ignored her.

For a moment, Pandora was silent as well. And then, with some hesitancy, she asked, "Do you want to know about the jar?"

He froze.

Pandora laughed. "I knew you were not as strong as that. Even you cannot withstand the charms bestowed by Aphrodite."

Prometheus gritted his teeth, but ignored her provocation. "You said you didn't remember anything before coming to Mecone."

"Well...memory is such a fickle thing."

Prometheus turned around and leaned on the table, his arms crossed. "Tell me."

Pandora patted the bed beside her, but Prometheus did not make any indication that he would join her.

She pursed her lips. "My first memory was in the halls of the throne room, the marble of the walls as pale as my skin. Zeus stood before me, his arms stretched out as if welcoming me to Olympus. Hermes stood at his side, a jar in his hands. Zeus took it and handed it to me, wrapping my arms around it and pressing it to my side. It was warm and something inside pulsed like a heartbeat."

Prometheus' hairs stood on end.

Pandora continued. "Zeus led me through the halls of the dome until we reached a balcony without any handrails. A crest of some sort was carved into the floor.

"He said, 'Pandora, you are a gift from the gods and for the gods, a masterpiece. And you are infused with a great purpose: to ensure the stability of the cosmos. Now this jar is for you, and only you. But you must never open it. The contents are more powerful than you could ever imagine. It's powers are constant and can last for a millennia. You must never open it. Promise me.'