Troy

P R O L O G U E

An apple lay in the middle of the room.

"What is this?" The woman in white asked the others in the room. The apple itself wasn't anything extraordinary. In fact, it was one of many gold apples on the grand table that held the night's feast. The words inscribed in it were the source of interest. Written in white was the phrase, "for the fairest".

Another woman, this one draped in red, peered at the apple. "I think it is pretty clear," she exclaimed. "This apple is meant for the fairest in the room". She went to grab it, her long fingers barely gazing the apple's skin before it was forced to move.

"Why are you touching it?" The woman who said this wore a dark grey chiton. She smiled mockingly, "it is clearly not you, Aphrodite, who is the fairest".

Aphrodite rose an eyebrow in indignation, "do you believe it to be you, Athena? Do you suppose yourself to be the fairest in this room of gods? Perhaps in a room full of mortals, you would be the fairest". She said her words in a soft voice laced with malice.

The woman in white cleared her throat and both woman, as well as the many people in the chamber, turned to her. "I am the queen of the gods of Olympus. Tis meant for me. Not you, Aphrodite with your loose charms nor you, Athena, the bookish one who is the greatest amathés of us all".

Athena and Aphrodite both looked at the woman with fury. Aphrodite spoke, "Hera, you call me pòrnidion as an insult however I take out as the biggest reason as to why the apple should be mine".

"Why do you argue?" A man in white approached. He was old yet handsome, with long, dark hair and a wreath of olive nestled between his curls. He had not heard the beginning of the argument however he could see the distress in his wife's eyes.

"Father!" Athena exclaimed, "this apple, here on the table, says it is meant for the fairest of us all. Hera, Aphrodite and I all think tis meant for us. Who do you believe is worthy of this apple?"

Zeus looked at the three women. One, his favourite daughter, the other, his queen wife and the the third, his beautiful aunt. He knew that no answer would satisfy them and he would be the one to pay the price. "I have an idea," he told them. "Let us summon a mortal man and let him decide".

He snapped his fingers and all three woman appeared in a new room, bare of everything. The room was white with no entrance in sight. A man appeared before them and, in his hands, was the golden apple. "Paris, prince of Troy, you have been summoned by the king of the gods himself to determine which of these women is the fairest".

Hera looked every bit a queen with her white dress and crown. Athena, goddess of wisdom and war, was dressed in a grey chiton. She wore a gold helmet that hid most of her dark hair but did nothing to lessen her beauty. Aphrodite, goddess of beauty, had wheat coloured haired and wore the finest jewellery. To the mortal eye, each goddess was more beautiful than imaginable.

"I cannot decide," Paris stuttered. He had listened to the many stories his parents had told him growing up but with three goddesses in front of him, he had no answer.

"Prince of Troy," Athena began, "should you choose me, I shall grant you skill in battle and the prowess of a great warrior".

Hera glared at Athena before making her own offer. If her step-daughter was not going to play fait, neither would she. "Should you choose me as the fairest, I will grant you all the political power you wish. Asia, Africa, anything you desire".

Paris' eyes gleamed. He was mortal and a shepherd and these offers were greater than anything he had ever dreamed.

Aphrodite stepped forward, "I will give you the love of the most beautiful mortal. All you have to do is give me the apple".

Paris looked at the golden apple he held and the tie words, "for the fairest".

"Who do you chose?"

Paris closed his eyes and took a deep breath before giving his answer.

"Aphrodite".