Aphrodite's Flame

1. Ashes

The thing I love most about the Olympian gardens is the way the light falls. It has an ethereal quality that can only be seen in the lower lands when the sun hits crystals just right. I've been around this place since forever. I've seen the ascend of armies and peoples, I've seen their downfall. They say I'm the goddess of Love and I suppose that this is true, but after having witnessed the flowering love between Demeter's offspring and Hades I started questioning destined love.

There are many definitions to the concept of Love and I intend to experience every single one of them - from the heated passion I once felt for Ares to the motherly love for Aeneas and the friendly love for Paris. Sadly the latter seemed to extinguish the first. Ares' love for Chaos and Fight was much greater than his feelings for me. I never felt for anyone what Persephone felt for Hades or what he felt for her. I know it, because I can differentiate between the kinds of love others feel. I can feel what they feel - but I can't enjoy it because it is a fleeting feeling, like a feather softly touching your skin once. I want to have what they have.

This search for the ultimate love has brought me to where I am now. It has brought me joy and satisfaction, but also heartache, shame and grief. I can look back at all that has happened and pinpoint where I did wrong, what I should've done differently. The thing is, though, I am at peace with my mistakes. They brought me what I craved deeply, and I wouldn't want it any other way. I once asked Persephone how she knew, really knew, and she told me her love for Hades had a colour she had never felt for anything or anyone else. I declared her a fool, but at the same time I think about her words a lot. I understand them now. I will tell you the story of Olympus' golden flames and how I fell in and out and in love again. 

It all started on a boring morning after I, Goddess of Love and Desire, initiated a rather shameful orgy between the members, high and low, of the great king Mithias' court. Seriously, mortals are so easily deceived and persuaded. Today they will wake up with the worst hangover they ever experienced and they will hear me laughing inside their frilly minds.

'If it isn't Aphrodite of Kythereia,' a low, teasing voice says. I shortly close my eyes when handsome Ares walks around the marble bench and squats down in the grass opposite me. O, he is handsome in the roughest way - and knows it - with stubble along his square jawline and intense black eyes that look at me like they want to rip my fabric from my body, like a hungry wild animal. He has big hands, made to hold heavy swords and swing equally heavy axes, but also used to lifting me up and crushing my body against his. His fingers aren't soft, but then again, I never longed for soft musical fingers like Apollo's.

'So you're back again?' I ask the warrior, without feigning interest. He plops down on his butt and leans his muscular arms on his knees, entwining his fingers. He looks at me with smiling eyes and lips. He wants to ravish my body. I can feel it, like goosebumps spreading over the pale skin he wants to touch.

'I missed you,' he says. I get up and dramatically straighten out my dress. Standing up I tower over him, but I still feel tiny. I look down on him.

'Of course you did. I'm a missable character.' It's true, none can live long without Love - not even the God of War - and I'm its immortal personification.

'Did you miss me, too?' Yes.

'No.'

'Come on, I know that face. I know you better than anyone.' Flustered I avert my face and see Artemis walk up to the palace. Great - I needed to talk to her anyway.

'I have to go.'

'You really gonna walk away from me, Di?' Without a word of goodbye I start hurrying away from him and toward the goddess of the moon. 

'Aphrodite!' Ares calls after me, but I'm on a mission and cannot be bothered right now. Except that I am. 

See, I loved him once. Loving him was playing with fire. Although dangerous, it was also exciting. I loved the excitement. It made me feel alive above all else. It was never light, though, it was a heavy all-consuming fire that took a hold of me, body and soul. No mortal could ever handle the flame of Ares' love, they'd be exhausted and crushed before realising what happened. Being somewhat of an expert on love, you'd say I of all divinities should know when I'm being fooled in this exact field. I chose a side in the Trojan war and expected Ares to follow. I expected him to choose me. But Ares loves Chaos, War and Death a good deal more than he loves Love. He gets off on it. He relishes it. He called it 'being a neutral party', I called it Destruction and Annihilation; he was everyone's enemy. It killed Paris and Ares didn't even bother helping him. 

He never even bothered helping me.