CHAPTER SIX
MUSIC TO MY EARS
(And the like)
Setting aside sabotage - for now, I would like to take the opportunity to dwell on Mount Olympus - obviously. The Mount has a vibration unto itself, but it strikes a chord with all who live there from the top of its peak to the lowest of its vast Underworld, that span known as Tartarus. How it resonates depends upon where you reside. The closer you are to the top, the stronger the connection. This is the residence of the Gods. This carries downward to the Forests of the Mount, which borders Upper Olympus and Olympus Proper. Proper is where the Community of Olympus lives. It is populated by divine mortals, who can live extended lives or die accordingly. Some have been resurrected while others have been born. While humble and rustic in appearance, it has a sophisticated infrastructure and organization that is self governed while remaining under the watchful eyes of the deities. There is a Governor Extraordinaire who is appointed from a roster of candidates put forward by the Community. Each candidate is given equal opportunity and time to debate their case, and the deliberation that follows rests on their word. A determination is made by majority and if there is any dispute, this will be put forward to discernment by Apollo, who is still the God held accountable for their well being.
Community members and residents work both in the Community and in Upper Olympus. They have thriving businesses, barter and exchange centers of commerce and many social and creative enterprises. No one goes without the necessities required to further their existence. There is no poverty to their name. Crimes do occur and they are dealt with through mediation, arbitration and possible exclusion. Prior to exclusion, everything must have been done to amend first and foremost. Compensation is of the highest priority. There is little prejudice and a plentitude of diversity in individuals and families. There are demigods galore. All can move freely between Upper Olympus and Olympus Proper. Given that Olympus can expand as needed, resources included, borders exist naturally by rivers and trees, but are not imposed between Upper and Proper.
There are wonderful gathering places in Proper, from the popular wells and fountains, to the Center Square, parks and meditation chambers and festival grounds. There are Community Gardens that include inclusive cooking and feasting facilities. LIfe can be hard, if you make it so, or it can be joyful, regardless of the work needed to live a free, fair and fruitful life. Comfort is held in high regard and there is no need for work/life balance to be instituted, as it is understood. Hearth and Home is a right. Debate is healthy but dispute is to be resolved. Such is the way of the Proper.
Beyond the Proper is Arcadia. The Far Reaches of Olympus, known for their unspoiled, harmonious wild and less populated lands. These are the rolling hills and valleys that can be homesteaded if desired, but require more effort and self work. Here you will find Zeus and his beloved in their own corner of the world with their garden tended and family farm. This is where excluded members of the Community will be sent to reside if they run afoul. They are then given the opportunity to work their way back up. Mind you, these are for the minor infractions that have caused no irreparable harm.
Should there be major infractions that can not be resolved through compensation or exclusion, that could lead to the Underworld. As there is Upper Olympus, Proper Olympus and Arcadia, below there are Tarturas, Erebus and the Elysian Fields. As Above, so below - so the story goes.
Mount Olympus and its lesser mounts alongside it, sit like a testament to the Eternal Flame best represented by it. From its highest point to its lush firmament to the far reaches, Olympus shines like a beacon in the sky. The foundation is firmly rooted in time and it is supported by an Underworld that acts like an anchor to support its efforts ongoing. The Sea of Olympus rides the eastern shore where the sun always rises down to the far reaches. The west of Olympus is the boundary to the Other Side of the Mountain. There is the Gateway to The InBetween. It remains steadfastly locked and can only be opened by a reigning Lord/esses for good reason. There must be true intent and purpose for traipsing beyond the Gateway. Then there is the Dark Side of Olympus. Behind the Mount you will find the Graveyard of the Gods. Their Cemetery is extremely private and seldom visited or spoken of.
Upper Olympus is not as showy as you might think. It is not lavish or embellished in all manner of gilded, garishness. Upper Olympus would best be described as Aesthetically pleasing to the eye. Each home is symbolic of the resident and they all compliment each other while being individual unto themselves. There are minimalist and contemporary abodes. There are sprawling Ranch Style domains with flourishing surroundings. There are entire dwellings in the trees with bridges and swings to connect them. There are marble columned palaces higher up where the Elders and such still prefer their traditional architecture, but the Lord/esses tastes have changed and they have adopted newer and more relevant designs to their liking. As disjointed as it may sound, somehow it all works together in harmony.
Higher up, past the residences and before the peak, there is a perch. An out jutting cliff that offers a full view of Olympus in the eyes of a God. Behind, and to the left is a low, sprawling round top building bathed in sunlight. This is where Gods come to meditate. Inside the wall is an enveloping softness that feels like a pillowy cloud you can walk through and sit upon or lie down in. They call this The Dome. Some go there to get away from it all, or seek privacy for their trysts. It is sexy and seductive and known to lull you into an altered state. Beware the Dome though. Going in is easy. Leaving is the hardest part. Knowing duty calls will haunt you otherwise. Ah, the Dome. The vacation destination of the Gods. But Blaze was not there for a vacation or tryst. Not today. Today, he stood on the perch, overlooking Olympus. He was not meditating. He was surveying. Sabotage was afoot.
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While Blaze surveyed, Metatron did something entirely different, but for the same reason. He sat hunched on the bathroom floor, his head between his knees with his arms wrapped around it. He was bemoaning the corrosion of the mortal coil. Aching, he felt it all the way through his disintegrating bones. Slowly, but surely, they were wasting away inside of him. He knew he did not have long. That was his choice. He made it and would make it again. Ever since he realized something untoward was happening and something ungodly was in play, he knew that he would do what he did. He would bring about the untimely demise of his sole surviving scion. He would not stand idly by and watch the corruption affect her. Even if it meant his own demoralization. Even if somebody else were blamed and had to take the fall alongside him. If that someone loved her, like he said he did, then he would have done the same. He would not let the world tarnish her spirit. Theirs were expendable. Hers was not. She was such an angel.
He did not know the cause of the corrosion. He could not trace the source of contention. Something had decided that nothing and no one was worth saving. Who could make such a decision? Who in their right mind? Certainly, not Akasha, he hoped as best he could. This was not an evil he was familiar with, and Metatron was familiar with evil. This was not an ill. This was madness.
He raised his head, brushed back his thinning hair and closed his eyes to recall the day. The world had been triggered and took a turn for the worse in a fatal direction. They had let lies rule over truth. They had cheered deviance over goodness. They had let their desire for stupidity override their ability for good judgment. They had let themselves down. This was unfathomable in this day and age where everything you needed to know to rise to the occasion of the new day dawning was available in as many ways as you could look to find it. The majority had chosen not to look to find it. They had chosen to ignore it in selfish ignorance for the sake of cruelty by law. He had seen this kind of cruelty before and the holocaustic results of that disdain, but this was different. This was sanctioned. And this was spreading. This was becoming a global phenomenon. Unprecedented hatred had become the order of the day. An underlying force had triggered a mass insecurity among earth’s inhabitants that was causing them to rally together in visceral anger and aggression that was hurtling them towards an end of humanity. While time for change was ripe, the damage may have already been done. Creeping in alongside were the fanatical, the rapturous idiots who believed while they compromised everything they believed and still believed they would be raptured. How is that anything but madness?
He rubbed his tired eyes, and shook his old and weary head. At least she was safe elsewhere. Preserved, you might say. The accident had been brutal. He almost threw up at the memory of her bloody corpse being pulled from the wreckage. Her soul sought safety in a path forward and she still had her wings, albeit, internally only. They may never come to the surface, but they would always be there to guide her. He had made certain of that. Now, the Saint was free of sorts, and his was the uncertain path that could make the difference. His was the next choice that mattered. Will he fall, or will he rise? Much was being asked of Santos that he did not know and Metatron was banking on her belief in him as a worthwhile human being to be the deciding factor. Was she blinded by love and a winning smile, or was she on the mark? Everything dark and dismal was converging into an abysmal energy that would suck everyone and everything in and down with it as the Universe imploded into Nothingness. There was still time. But it was growing shorter. There were still chances. But they were becoming few and far between. Absolute power corrupts absolutely and that is what they are seeking with a vengeance. The ingrates.
Metatron rued the very idea of going out there today. Longing to just go back to bed and continue to waste away, he was alerted by a notification on his phone. Knowing how few those were, given his engagement policy, he reached for it and turned it on. He opened it and clicked on the notice. This post was different. This one resonated with him. This one struck a chord. There was a new call to action. The source was Anonymous. The message was clear. The fight was not over. The battle was lost but the war was just beginning. The upside of the dark web was drastically underrated by the techno giants of industry who were part of the prevailing stupidity they thought they were all smarter than. While the blind were leading the blind, the awakening was going full steam ahead. You can argue with the woke all you want. It is the rise and shine you need to worry about.
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When Nyxana is overcome with a bout of restlessness, which is not often, she is inclined to seek solitude of her own desire. Sometimes the company of women has its limits, being too familiar, and the company of men just leaves her wanting, well, more women or women more. Then she finds herself bored with both and lacking inspiration. This is when she will, by choice and for good reason, traipse past the Gateway to the InBetween to sit by the Rainbow Bridge and marvel at the instincts of animals making their own way home. She pack herself a lunch of sorts in a basket, and take to her invisible hillside there and sit on the bank to watch the parade that goes both ways. Nyx loves animals. Especially dogs. Everything from the smiles on their faces to the flapping of their ears to the breathless anticipation of acceptance either way. Dogs are unconditional love cloaked in fur and fearless loyalty. They “bound” across in all their various breeds, colors and sizes. It is not her jurisdiction to know or decide their lives on either side of the bridge. The bridge is her personal responsibility to herself to keep watch over.
The Rainbow Bridge is not a fixed fixture. But it has form and substance, made of planks of all the hues of the rainbow joined together by light and love. Just not human love. Nature’s Love makes it possible. It was formed from the sky and given its own place inbetween to connect animals far and wide to the heavens and earth. Their lack of cognition and their trust in their own instincts is what guides them. Over the years, the bridge has seen a decline in crossings. Natural Selection has replaced Nature’s Love and animals have gone more into the recycling bin of life than crossed home and been redirected. Nyx has no problem with Natural Selection running its due course as long as the bridge remains for all creatures great and small who want to go home one way or the other.
While she watched in peace, licking cake crumbs from her fingers and smiling at a pretty pup sprinting towards home, something caught her attention about the bridge. While everything appeared to be normal, and nothing out of place, something did seem to be amiss. The colors were a slight shade duller than she remembered. Like someone or something had dimmed them just a little so as not to be noticed by the untrained eye. But Nyx had trained her eye on this bridge many a time and nobody appreciated rainbows quite as she did. No one. She rose to take a closer look. She tested the atmosphere around her to see if that was what was affecting the brilliance of the bridge. Nothing registered as any different. Not wanting to get too close as to interfere with the crossing over process, she heightened her gaze and looked closer into the bridge. She predicted her vision across it, through it and underneath it, where, to her horror, she saw in utter disgust, the reason. She backed away in response and turned her head to release her vision and clear her mind. Once cleared, an infuriation the likes of which was uncommon to her, took hold of her and had she been blood and bone, her blood would be boiling right now in response to a bone-chilling revelation.
The entire bottom of her beloved bridge was covered in locust larvae. Covered and crawling with them. They were feeding on the energy of the bridge and growing off it to become a swarm of epic proportions. This was a plague. The InBetween was an open jurisdiction and free for All. But this was a bridge too far.
Nyx steadied herself and thought of the trusting nature of the animals who ventured forth and fro and did her best to weigh her options for recourse. She could not destroy the bridge. That would devastate her. The Rainbow Bridge had to be there. That was all there was to it in her mind. She needed to protect them though. She was able, even in her fury, to discern they were in no immediate danger. The thought of them being in such close proximity to this plague incited her further though. She had to protect the bridge and the animals while ridding it of the pestilence of disgusting larvae. Who would do such a thing? This was very low. Very low indeed. Her mind immediately turned to Marianas for the help she needed. They want to go that low. There is only one Lordess who can show them the depths to which they will truly sink for such depravity. She called out for her Lordess friend in kind and in keeping with, but more importantly, in kinship with. She tried not to think of the maggots as it turned her, while she awaited a response. Creepy, crawly things were her least favorite.
Marianas knew something was off. It wasn’t in the sand though. It was in Nyx’s voice and she sped through the Gateway without attracting any unnecessary attention or questions. It was not often Nyx called on her or anyone in such anguish. This was more than amiss. This was deeply troublesome. As fast as the speed of light would take her she went and appeared alongside her Goddess in kinship. She felt the rage and a tinge of fear intertwined with the heat. She had never seen Nyx in such a state as this. She put her cool hand to the forehead of the Lordess in great distress to calm her and see within her for herself to keep her from voicing her concern. Upon seeing the reason, Marianas, who was far more used to low level creatures, took the worst of the sight of it from Nyx for her own keeping, and turned to the bridge.
“Well Damn.” Marnie remarked in her calmest of voices. “That’s not cool.”
Marnie had a knack for being understated at the right or wrong time. Nyx was not sure which was the case here.
“What…” Nyx’s question trailed off as she could see Marnie was deep in thought. Marnie stepped away and began to pace and appeared to be talking in spirit while fiddling with and fixing her hair. Nyx knew better than to grow impatient. She remained stoic while waiting for her friend to finish whatever conversation she was having. Finally, after what seemed infinite to Nyx, Marnie turned and walked back towards her.
“Can you stave the flow of traffic to and for the time needed to remove them?”
Nyx looked back towards the bridge, determined to ignore the maggots.
“How long? The disruption in time and process could unnecessarily stress them.”
Marnie seemed to be calculating in her head. “It won’t.” She seemed certain. “They will be redirected in record time.”
Nyx relied on her confidence because it was all she could think of to do. Marnie had a way about her that you could not dispute.
“Will do.” She responded. “Just say when.” She did not ask for details, deciding instead to trust in her own instincts and Marnie’s judgement. Female empowerment at its peak, could move mountains. She leaned into it.
Nyx held her hands up in readiness, directing one to either side of her beloved bridge, and waited. Marnie watched as a couple of stragglers made their way across. She thought of them as strays, while to Nyx, they were blessings. Oh well, to each their own.
“Stop the entrance left now before any others come through and then stop the entrance right after that last one crosses.” She stated unequivocally.
Nyx stopped the flow one way. Then the other.
Marnie stood still and opened her mouth wide. From the depths of her soul, a song rang out. She channeled the Song of the Sirens. Nyx suddenly knew who she had been speaking with. The song filled the air around them. Even Nyx was mesmerized by it but held fast her place and her hands. Out from underneath they came. Nyx wanted to hurl at the sight, but contained herself. Marnie took to the air, never releasing her sight or her hold on them while she sang out. She began to retreat and they followed her, entranced. She pulled them away in a wave of wriggling, grey-white mass exodus. Gross and yet, somehow, enchanting. They pitched and crested and fell off and pitched again while they took to the sky and she sang them into a stupor - her following. She gestured to Nyx when she knew she had roped them all in. Nyx opened the bridge for crossing and followed along behind the mollified larvae.
They took the long way around the boundary of Olympus till they reached the sea at its furthest point. The music emanating from Marnie would prove to be a distraction if it entered into Olympus. She began to spin in the air while she continued to channel the Siren’s Song for her captive audience. Beneath her, a whirlpool formed and grew larger and more menacing. Without skipping a beat, Marnie dropped down to the edge of it, pulling them forward and into it. Smiling and singing the entire time. Nyx watched as an eerie feeling of relief crept over her. Marnie drowned every last one of them to her satisfaction. Then she flushed them down the drain to the deepest recesses of the sea never to be seen again, except in Nyx’s dreams.
There was a moment of silent respect between them as they looked at the whitecap that formed and flowed back into the ocean. They realized then, they made quite a team. They filed that realization away for future reference. They were now in sync. This was only a union in spirit of course, since their preferences were worlds apart.
“Gratitude to those who conceived of us.” Nyx whispered.
Aphrodite and Hermes had always been great friends. Their legacy has taken hold and continues.
Marnie gave recognition untold to the Siren’s and together, hand in hand, they went back to check on the Rainbow Bridge. It shone brighter than ever.
They agreed they would need to call and Convene a Counsel to disclose and discuss the circumstances. They both felt this marked a turning point in time. This infestation had left a rotten taste in their mouths for a time. Nothing a couple of glasses of wine would not diminish, but enough to warrant serious consideration. Couched and comfortable with a slight wine glow enhancing their demeanors, they finally spoke the truth. This was of grave concern. Grave concern indeed. Being caught up in the moment and determined to resolve the matter at hand, there was no time to delve deeper into the nature of this incident. But it defied the nature of things as they knew them. This was an Unnatural Undertaking.
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“Fuck!” Blaze knew a problem when he heard it and he definitely heard it in the voice of Nyx. Nyx had never Convened a Counsel. He set his drink down on the table and ran his hands through his hair. He nodded to himself while he looked around his humble dwelling. Well, humble in his opinion. It was, in fact, a sprawling ranch style home on a wide berth surrounded by natural growth and had a backyard hot spring and swimming pond. While, again, not lavish, it was tailored and maintained to his specific taste. Right now, it gave him no peace of mind or self satisfaction whatsoever. They were all beginning to realize there was an undercurrent of uncertainty and a growing distrust in what they had believed up till now. Blaze knew he would have to turn to Rhe for insight. She had brought it to the surface and given it legs with her revelation.
Rhe called it Fervent.
Blaze called it Sabotage.
Metatron called it Corrosion of the Mortal Coil
Nyx called it Infestation
Marnie sat, comforted in her plush surroundings, singing to herself. She seemed to be the only one ready for it. Whatever it was, didn’t matter to her. That was semantics. Slightly drunk on wine and maybe, her own power, she strummed a lyre and struck a chord. Turning points go both ways.
In the middle of ordering his third coffee for the day, Metatron suddenly shuddered and shivered, in a good way.
“Oh happy day…”
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