Playing Gods

π ρ ι ν

"A showcase of strengths and wit!" Ares proclaimed proudly. "A fight."

"A fight to death, I hope." Dionysus whispered to the goddess of love, on his side as he tries to swipe her goblet of wine with his water only for its rich color to turn clear once again.

Aphrodite agreed while smirking at his futile attempt, "Otherwise, it would be tediously monotonous."

Zeus grinned and scruffed his beard, "That would be entertaining."

Most of the primordial beings on the table nodded whilst some sneered at the idea. Athena belonged to the latter.

"A fight with the purpose of showcasing strengths and wit would be a waste if it is to death," Artemis spoke aloud. "What good will they be then if they were to rot in the underworld with Hades."

Hades chuckles at the idea of more snobby heroes filling up his kingdom. "I quite agree on that. How about--"

"How about we stop this ridiculous idea here and now," Athena says. "Heavens forbid, I can't believe you are all even considering such--"

"I do not take well being interrupted, goddess." Hades cuts in, glowering at Athena. "As I was saying, how about we do not make it off as a fight to death rather simply keep that option open."

"I really do prefer if it was a fight to death," the god of wine whispers to his annoyed seatmate once again.

"I fail to see how this will not only lead us to another war," Hera finally speaks. She had been silent since his husband suddenly called for an urgent meeting. "We do not need another reason for a division. Remember the battle of Troy?"

Whisperings and nervous glances broke through the table of gods and goddesses.

Hera gave Aphrodite a pointed look with that statement and to which she replied with faux surprised face, and a glare.

"Yes, well, that was different," Apollo argues.

Artemis exclaims, "How was that different? "

"There were only two sides. When Olympus is halved, then its downfall would be given. In this little game of ours, we all would be given our own side." Poseidon suddenly speaks. "I think it's brilliant. And besides, it wouldn't really be us. It would be the mortals who would be fighting for us."

Murmurs of content went through the group.

Zeus rises on the head of the table, and places both of his hands down. Everyone silenced.

He clenches his jaw and speaks.

"It has been decided then. There will be a display of strength and wit through a battle every winter solistice. Each God or Goddess will choose a family that will then in turn provide a champion every celebration to partake in such event. That champion may be from within their family or from the outside. Everyone who agrees with this notion, raise your hand."

Ares, Apollo, Dionysus, and Hermes immediately raised their hands.

Artemis held Apollo's stare for a few seconds as if they were arguing in their heads. The Goddess' narrowed brows contrasted his twin brother's collected demeanor. She raises her hand.

After a collective sighs, Hephaestus and Demeter raises their hands as well.

Hades smiles as his hand slids up. It was rare to see the king of the underworld smile and it quite scared Aphrodite. He's planning something, she thinks, and raises her hand.

Poseidon follows suit.

"This is nonsense," Athena proclaims.

Demeter rolls his eyes, "To be fair, we will not be losing anything out of this. More reasons for them to worship us."

"A contest of who can do better? A show of debauchery and violence just to suckle momma's teats?" Aphrodite laughs and hiccups. A nymph brings her fifth goblet of wine for this night. "Oh, how mortals adore those things."

Athena lets out a chuckle and slowly raises her hand.

Everyone turned to the one Goddess left that was not raising her hand.

"I wish to not be included as a participant and instead be the governing body to avoid any bias," Hera proclaims.

Nobody objects.

Let the games begin.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

V.IX.MMXVIII