Aphrodite's Choice

Chapter 13 – Swear on the Styx

“What I already said. It will be a question and answer game, limited, of course, to three questions each. What do you think? We swear to answer truthfully.”

“Well, if there was anything I wanted to know, I would just ask. You could do the same too, without having to make a binding oath,” he replied, unfazed.

“Well, yes we could. But I might lie. I am very good at lying, you know.”

Paradoxically, her last words were a lie. Aphrodite rarely lied, because she didn’t really have to. But she wasn’t sure if this lie was entirely lost on him. She pretended to keep her expressions impassive and tried to relax. She avoided his eyes, thinking that she could go scot free. Instead, she tried to smile.

“Are you going to swear on the Styx too?” he asked, in a slightly subdued voice.

“Of course. It is meant to be mutual,” she replied, trying to act nonchalant.

“I wouldn’t lie whether I swear by it or not, I already gave you my word. But, if we swear by the Styx, you won’t be able to lie either. Are you sure about this?”

“Well, word or not, you could lie for all I know. I don’t hide anything, as you so eloquently put it, I am an open book,” she said.

Hephaestus drew an exhausted sigh and rubbed his droopy eyes, wearily. Finally, he said, “Okay then.”

Hephaestus’ sanctuary, more like his lair, was devoid of any color. It was so detached with what Olympus was. The dark-colored stone walls, the minimal furniture, did not even attempt to show the grandeur the other gods displayed in their attempt to declare their status as an Olympian. This private space bare of any kind of decoration created a lonesome atmosphere.

“This is so very dreary,” Aphrodite commented.

She thought that this was a very impolite remark to make aloud, so tried to repair the damage, but Hephaestus seemed unfazed and offered her a seat with indifference.

“I don’t like clutter, it gets in the way of my work,” he said.

“You can always opt to have at least a potted plant or a couple of curtains,” she said, looking around at the expanse of the room which could certainly use something, anything!

“I neither have the talent nor the time to beautify things,” he said, somberly.

Aphrodite laughed. “You’re indeed a good liar,” she scoffed.

“It’s not a lie,” he said.

“Well, you seem to be top tier in your handicraft skill. Not to mention, you are considered the best creator in all of Olympus, uncontested!”

“My skills are about functions. It has nothing to do with beauty.”

“I find that hard to agree,” she said, placing her hand on the belt as an answer to Hephaestus’ puzzled gaze. “Somebody who can make something as beautiful as the Kestos Himas shouldn’t be claiming that he doesn’t know anything about beauty.”

“The magic belt was made to fulfill its function. The appearance was just something I considered secondary. I just tried to improvise, thinking it might not be to your liking,” he said, sheepishly.

“And you expect me to believe that?” Aphrodite asked, her eyebrows scrunched.

“It would be good if you could,” he said. A sad smile was painted on his lips.

Aphrodite stared at Hephaestus with confusion, but there was no indication of falsehood in his claim. He sincerely believed that he had no penchant or talent for beauty. It was hard to believe that a god, an Olympian at that, could so readily express what he thought was his flaw and accept it with no difficulty.

Aphrodite pondered in all seriousness and said, “I’m really curious.”

“What for?” he said.

“I’m going to ask you now. Let’s get started.”

They both swore by the River Styx and vowed to answer three questions truthfully. Soon, their little game began. Aphrodite was elated for the chance to find anything that this huge, burly man was hiding.

“Mind if I go first?” began Aphrodite, excitedly.

“As you please,” he obliged.

“On second thoughts, you can have a go first,” offered Aphrodite generously, with a smirk.

“…..”

“Oh, come on. You aren’t curious? It won’t be that long anyway!” Aphrodite did this precisely to confuse him, to throw him off his impending, stable calmness, to see him flustered, even if a little. Seeing that he was solemnly rubbing the bridge of his nose, it wasn’t that difficult to achieve.

That was what Aphrodite thought, unfortunately she was far from being right.