Chapter 2

The Golden Age was followed by the Silver Age, not quite so prosperous, and the time of unalloyed happiness and ignorance was over. The year was then divided into seasons. Men were obliged to toil for their daily bread, but at least, peace reigned throughout the creation, and not even a murmur was heard, except for the whispering of the Oracles of Gaea. The wind carried a dreaded prophecy to Olympus.

Zeus sat in his celestial garden when he heard a bird cry and a fish leap, and those wild sounds combined to become words, which the rattling leaves echoed: 'O Zeus, Metis will bear a child, a girl child, who shall match her father in strength and mind. But if she bears again, it will be a son who is stronger than his sire.'

An unsettling chill went through Zeus. He had just conquered all his foes and asserted his right to the throne, but now the fates would rob him of his hard-earned possessions and glory. The thought of Metis bestowing him with an heir that shall one day overthrow him reflected what had happened to his father, Cronus and his grandfather, Uranus.

Unwilling to take the chance, Zeus decided to take the prudent course. The next day he went to Metis's palace. He found her there in her chamber, sitting calmly on a velvet couch as though she had been waiting for him.

"Husband," she greeted the new king, but this time she did not smile and neither did she flee. Zeus was still greatly disturbed by the prophecy, but he tried to hide his troubled mind. As he stood before his wife, he had a feeling that somehow the Titaness also knew, or that she simply absorbed the subtleties and pieced them together to see the truth. The god went to her and sat down, taking Metis's slender hand in his.

"How are you, my dear wife?" he said and caressed her slightly raised belly. "Has the pregnancy been kind to you?"

"I know what you came here for, my lord," Metis said. "I know everything, therefore, spare me your pedantic ways but your true intention."

It had been said before that Metis was the wisest being that ever lived, and Zeus admired her for it. But now he was even more awed by her unwavering bravery.

"My love, I can hide nothing from you," Zeus said in his sad voice. "The fates have plagued me with this fear, and I am powerless to overcome it."

"Your fear is that our offspring will be your downfall," Metis said as a single tear rolled down her glowing cheek. "But I do not blame you for I understood your reasons."

The reasons, which even Zeus did not want to admit, were that the god loved his power more than his own children, and no gods would want another terrible war to break and a new age shifted once more.

"Forgive me, Metis," Zeus said softly. "I must protect the realms. But you shall still remain with me, forever and ever."

He drew her closer to him, kissed her lips gently one last time and then he opened his mouth and swallowed her.

~*~

Time passed. At first, Zeus began to experience a mild headache, which was already uncommon to the race of gods. Then not even a cup of nectar or a bowl of ambrosia could soothe his ever-increasing discomfort. Later, the headache grew worse and worse still until one afternoon, Zeus suffered the most intense pain, the worst headache that the Cosmos had ever seen —an excruciating agony that anyone, the gods or Titans, had never suffered since the beginning of time.

Zeus clutched his head and howled so loudly it could be heard throughout the earth. It was exactly as if someone were inside him with a spear, thrusting at all the soft places in his skull. The pain gripped his whole being as though he was stuck between two grinding stones. Such as he had never imagined could exist a searing pounding agony that consumed every thought. It was to the point that Zeus would do anything to get rid of this headache, even if it meant to have his head split open.

Hephaestus was then summoned to Olympus. The gods had gathered around in the throne hall, helplessly watching their king's suffering, each bewildered by the strange illness. For hours, Zeus writhed in ceaseless pain, but at last, the smith god with his crippled limb came rushing up the mountain with his hammer and wedge. As soon as, he entered the room, Zeus shouted for him to break open his head.

Hephaestus did not have time to ask what had happened when Zeus put himself on the table for him and demanded him to wield his hummer at once. The smith god quickly obeyed. He lifted the heavy tools and split the mighty skull with the surest blow like a thunderstruck. Suddenly, the air crackled with a new energy. Rays of brilliant light pierced through the room.

Hephaestus leaped back with a cry, frightened by what he saw. Out of Zeus's forehead sprang a tall dazzling maiden.

She was full-grown and clad in rich scaled golden armor from head to toes. Her greaves and breastplate were still aglow as if they were just freshly molten out of the forge. Adamantine, beautiful, and a marvel to all the gods, the maiden stood with her long flowing hair shining as spun gold and helmet lifted to show her perfectly shaped face. Beneath her thick curled lashes, her pale grey eyes flashed like a storm with the intense power within them. She wielded an extremely long sharp spear, no doubt the source of Zeus's agony.

By then, the great gash on Zeus's skull had already closed and the horrible pain vanished, except for the bright golden blood on his white tunic.

From under her horse-plumed helmet, the fierce maiden cast her radiant eyes around the room, meeting mesmerized and feared faces of the other Olympians. The King of Gods recognized who she was immediately for she bore her mother's intelligent looks.

Zeus watched her, marveling at her grace and fierce form, his heart swollen with pride and joy, and he realized that all the agony he had endured was worth enduring. The maiden was truly a spectacular being and, indeed, a divine child of his.

Later, the mighty Zeus named her, Athena.