Standing 5’7” with blonde, wavy hair that met the small of her back, Elpis entered the throne room on Mount Olympus. She wore a white silk dress with a scarlet cloak. She smiled as her grandmother met her at the doorway.
“Look at you,” Anath beamed at her beautiful granddaughter. “Twenty-five days since your arrival here and you are a master of the arts, history, war, and languages of the world.”
Elpis lowered her blue eyes, blushing from her grandmother’s praise.
“Don’t be coy,” Anath laughed at Elpis’ shyness. “Come, I want to show you something.” Anath wrapped an arm around Elpis’ shoulders and pulled her close.
Anath and Elpis walked out of the golden gates of Mount Olympus and plunged downward through the clouds to earth, landing in a battlefield. Anath made herself and Elpis invisible so they could walk among the mortals unnoticed.
“The goddesses of wisdom have taught you well in the history of the world and in the art of war,” Anath said, pointing to the battlefields of Troy.
The metallic smell of the blood soaked dirt made Elpis scrunch her nose. She hid her face in the folds of her cloak, inhaling the floral scent left over from its wash in rose water.
“What is this place?” asked Elpis.
“This will be known as the Trojan War: a war that soon must come to an end.”
“How?”
“That is yet to be decided,” Anath gave Elpis a pitying look.
The look frightened Elpis. She could not help but sense that Anath knew her future and it was not a bright one. She refocused her attention to the battle to distract from her fear.
They walked into the thick of the battle where two men stood out amongst the soldiers. Both soldiers had tossed aside their helmets as they fought their way through battle, slaying men as they approached. One soldier wore bronze armor covered in black leather with a sigil of crossing gold spears on his chest. The other soldier dressed in similar bronze armor plated with gold. Attached to the shoulders of his breastplate, a purple cape embroidered with a rearing white stallion whipped behind him.
“These two soldiers are the heroes Achilles and Hector. Neither will survive this war,” Anath informed Elpis, pointing to each man.
Squinting, Elpis could see that the man dressed in black leather had a silver shimmer to his skin. “I see Achilles bares the mark of the River Styx. How could he not survive? Can you not spare him?”
“The cost of saving a life marked for death is too great. To save a life you must take a life. It is better not to defy the wishes of Hades or any other Lord of Death. If they want a life, that life will be taken,” Anath warned. “Do you understand what I say?”
Elpis nodded, but it pained her to know that these men were marked for the funeral pyre. She winced as she vividly imagined the bright orange flames engulfing their bodies against the night sky.
Anath returned Elpis to Mount Olympus where the gods held a giant feast in Elpis’ honor. Elpis tried to put the horrible images of war out of her mind, but they slowly crept back as she searched for a way to save the men.
As the festivities dwindled, everyone grew quiet and eyed Elpis suspiciously. Uneasy with the attention, Elpis stood to return to her bedroom. Suddenly, a bright white light filled the room, followed by a stabbing, burning pain in the middle of her back. Elpis collapsed to the ground, groping at the pain. She turned to see the gods anxiously watching her.
Elpis climbed back to her feet, holding her head after the dizzying attack. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that the skin of her hands and arms had a gold shimmer. She kept turning her hand over, astonished at her new skin tone. She flipped her hand too fast and a lightning bolt shot out from her palm, narrowly missing Hermes hovering by a pillar.
“What have you done to me?” Elpis shouted, her hands trembling with fear.
“Before you go on a rampage attacking us all, we told you before that you have a higher purpose,” explained Mars, the Roman god of war.
The Celtic goddess of magic and divination, Andraste, stepped forward to explain the purpose of Elpis’ creation. She revealed every detail from the beginning of the War Council to the path she must lead on earth.
“I am expected to end a ten-year war and bring peace to the entire world?” Rage flared in Elpis’ eyes.
“Yes,” the Egyptian god Thoth answered coldly.
“Tonight is the night you part ways with us, my dear.” Anath stroked the back of Elpis’ head. “It is your duty to be the savior of humanity, to save them from themselves.”
“I will bring you down within the walls of Troy.” Apollo stood, motioning for his horse and chariot. “I am the patron god of the city and I am counting on you to be its heroine.”
“Be your own savior! Why am I expected to do your work while you sit up high and watch?” Elpis jerked away from her grandmother’s touch.
“Because that is your job, young one,” Mot pushed his chair out and walked towards Elpis. He moved slowly with his hands held out in a ‘don’t shoot me with lightning’ manor.
Elpis was angry, but she knew better than to cross the oldest god in the room. She struggled against her own body urging her to attack Mot. The Power coursing through her veins begged for release. In the distance, a golden eagle flew towards her.
Mot watched carefully as Elpis balled her hands into fists and bit her lower lip in an attempt to control her anger.
“That anger is partly due to your grandfather,” Mot said as he threw his thumb in Ares’ direction. “It is an emotion you need to control. You will need it at times, but it is not your job to create destruction. You are the protector of peace; anger will only lead to more death. Humanity is not all who needs you. Their wars teeter on the edge of destroying entire civilizations. Once a god’s civilization is destroyed, we become mortal and will die not long after. Our survival depends on us being worshiped as divine beings. If we have no one to rule then we have no purpose to exist.”
As Elpis listened to Mot, the eagle drew closer until it landed on the table in front of her. She could almost feel its silky feathers on her fingertips. Its razor sharp talons glistened like the blade of a sword, and its jade beak sparkled against the light of the room.
Mot smiled at Elpis as she stared in awe of the eagle. “Every god has a patron animal, Elpis. This is to be yours. A beautiful fierce creature made of silk and power. It is your symbol…your sigil of hope.”
Apollo’s horse and chariot arrived outside the doorway. Mot placed an arm around Elpis to guide her towards the chariot. “You must go now. Listen to the powers within you and you will save us all.”
She climbed into the chariot with Apollo. With a slash of his whip, the chariot sped off through the clouds, down towards the earth. She glared back at the gods, who were now nothing but a blur of colors in the distance.