The crimson unread-message badge had gone so red it was almost black, and even a sinister haze of resentful shadow coiled over the number…
Zeus gave it a glance and shut it at once.
Too scary!
Nyx was truly desperate now—virtually about to go full dark.
Still… savoring those messages, though some words were harsh and merciless, one glance told they were bluff and bluster.
Such a Nyx… was inexplicably adorable.
But this was no time.
Better to go keep company with His beloved Lady of Just Order first.
She would never cling to Him madly like Nyx, but in her heart, surely she missed Him most.
And she had also been the busiest, most burdened of late.
So many new laws had been added; He, for His part, enjoyed tranquil ease, while dear Themis carried the load for Him.
Folding each new law into the Heavenly Order, and reweaving the causal skein of the universe…
These things devoured mind and heart, were scattered and tedious, yet vital—and all were done by her in silence.
Truly, behind every God-King at leisure stands a wife who is the most just, most righteous, and most conscientious goddess.
Time to go properly reward and comfort dear Themis.
And… help her "clear" the order a bit.
At that thought, Zeus pinched the tender face of the restless little milk-softie in His arms and said gently, "Amalthea, rest a while. I'll go help dear Themis comb the Heavenly Order. She's been so busy lately."
Amalthea pouted, but still leaned in to kiss Zeus again. "Then go. You—you mustn't stay away that long again. I… I—I'll miss you."
Looking at the dear goddess in His arms, Zeus could not help but laugh.
He bent and pressed another lingering kiss, only parting when He had kissed His beloved goddess to breathless, dizzy sweetness, and soothed her softly, "All right, all right, I'll come back as soon as I can."
As He spoke, He put His lips to the Nourishing goddess's ear and whispered most suggestively, "I still need to come back and, with my beloved Amalthea, conceive the dearest child."
"And… I get hungry very easily…"
Amalthea covered her little face and dared not speak again. Zeus saw clearly her charming little face had blushed near to dripping honey.
When Zeus set out and came to that most sacred, most solemn Mountain of Order, within the temple the three goddesses of Fate and the three goddesses of Time, who had been chatting and teasing, sensed Him almost the instant He drew near.
Even without wind and thunder about Him, if He did not deliberately hide, He could by no means escape their senses.
In a moment the warm, bustling air within the hall turned solemn and still.
The six goddesses arranged themselves left and right in matching ranks and sat properly upon their thrones.
They met one another's eyes; a flood of information raced among them in divine-thought exchange.
The spotless Themis watched all her daughters' little tricks, and shook her head with helpless affection.
Under Atropos's lead, these children had grown ever more mischievous.
Zeus stepped into the temple and, finding that not a single deity came forth to greet Him, was faintly puzzled.
But He did not mind; with His heart and eyes full only of the flawless, holy goddess of justice, He unconsciously forgot all else.
When He saw Themis's graceful, alluring form, He forgot all the more.
But before He could speak the sweet words long prepared, a stately, mighty old voice slowly rolled across the dome of the temple.
"Oh—illustrious son of Kronos, great most-high God-King, wanton sovereign of the cosmos.
"You, at your indulgent will, ever make the universe's order grow more complex and elaborate; you make the threads of fate tangled and confused.
"You are the cause of all things, and the end of all things—yet you lay the jumbled process entirely upon spotless, just Themis to bear alone. What irresponsibility is this.
"You who act willfully—have you come today to this great Temple of Order… to admit your fault?
"But your faults are past counting. Even if admitted, they cannot be corrected.
"Oh—son of Kronos—go back. How can a god like you be changed?
"Your wanton ways and nature cannot be corrected by any deity—not even by this most spotless Lady of Holy Justice.
"We can only hope that hereafter you may slightly restrain yourself. That would be a vast good fortune for all gods and all beings of this universe."
The echo lingered long, and even the hall's light and shadow seemed stilled by this brazen arraignment.
His Majesty the all-knowing, all-powerful God-King, hearing this "fate indictment" verging on treason, stared for a beat, then could not help scratching His head, both vexed and amused.
With a sweep of His great hand, a formless gale sprang from nothing like an unseen ribbon, and neatly wrapped up the naughtiest Atropos and whisked her before Him.
This youngest of the Three Fates, the most impish, still held the form of a creaky, chilly crone.
Zeus only cast her a mild glance.
A golden rainbow flashed through His eyes, and the old woman before Him, with a cry of surprise, restored in an instant to her charming, girlish self.
The maiden goddess's brows and eyes were bright; her lips curved in a smile; her look brimmed with sly mischief—yet just then held a hint of panic.
Atropos squeaked, knowing things had gone ill, and at once tried to turn into a phantom thread of fate and flee back into her Mother Goddess's arms for refuge.
Too late.
The kindly old Father had already stretched forth His great hand, brimming with endless might.
She had only time for a single wail fit to rival any operatic soprano:
"Mother Goddess—save me—!"
But the graceful, dignified Lady of Justice only watched as her daughter was "pitilessly seized" by the Father.
Not only did she show no intent to rescue—her lips even held the faintest smile of one enjoying the show.
Without a word, Zeus pressed His beloved "rebellious daughter" face-down across His knee.
His other hand, holding the universe's order, was already raised high.
Then, without the least courtesy, it landed upon her perky, springy little backside—no half-measures in that falling palm.
Smack—!
"Ah—!"
This time the sound was no elderly croak of a crone,
but her own sweet, girlish voice—adorable yet distressed, pleading wrapped in a spoiled whine.
But her shrieks and laments did not earn the least mercy from Father.
The thunder-bolstered palm of a father's "kindness" fell again and again without sparing.
The poor arbiter of fate had no power to resist against her Father's hand; she could not even flee.
She could only beg pitifully, tears springing at once. "Father! Father! I was wrong—I was wrong! Ah— I'll never dare again!"
Her voice shook, soft and sugary with a sob. "Please, Father—spare me… I'll never dare again—ah—boo-hoo—"
Zeus turned a deaf ear.
Today He was resolved to teach this little minx properly—how to respect her greatest, most beloved Father God!
Atropos was still shrieking and wailing. "Mother Goddess! Mother Goddess! Save me! Father is going to beat me to death—"
"Sisters—oh sisters! My dear sisters—come save me! Father is really going to beat me to death!"
She kept cutting glances at Clotho and Lachesis.
But Clotho and Lachesis, and those three bright goddesses of Time, only cast her looks of helpless sympathy—and… poorly hidden schadenfreude.
True, when it came to stirring trouble, they were very enthusiastic.
But at the moment of "settling accounts in autumn," seeing Atropos's miserable end, they could only silently promise in their hearts: once this is over, we'll comfort her well.
Atropos was still bawling.
Just when she could not help wanting to inform on all her accomplices at once, her most honored Mother Goddess finally spoke.
Gentle Themis glided down from the dais; fingers like green onions, she lightly caught her beloved God-King's still-raised hand and said with a smile, "My love, stop for the moment."
Zeus stayed His hand and was about to let the naughty little daughter go.
Never mind Atropos's screams resounding to the rafters—in truth, nothing was wrong.
After all, she was His beloved little treasure—merely a bit too lively; that was a good thing. He could not bear to truly use a heavy hand.
But no sooner had He paused than Themis, in that soft voice, spoke the cruellest words.
"My love, such simple 'physical education' is of no use."
"Atropos is ever too mischievous; repeated teaching has done nothing. This vexes me as well—I know not how to truly educate her."
"Now she grows worse—knowing neither high nor low—and even dares make sport of you. I think—"
"Why not cast her into the Underworld River as well."
"Let her go to that icy river and cool herself properly. Perhaps only thus can she truly grow a little."
Zeus blinked at this, then caught the meaning at once, nodding in agreement. "Oh—my dearest Themis, that's an excellent idea!"
"For such a naughty child—what else can save her?"
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