Metrius – Post 2

ancient shepherd“Yet we meddle in other ways? We give to the blessed and punish those who deserve but we must be moulded like some potter’s clay?” She sighed, frustrated at the matter.

“A potter can create much beauty from clay.” Zeus stated, as if preaching to a child. Sometimes he still thought of her as such even though she had long since reached her womanhood.

She shook her head, “It should be different.”

As she came before him, Zeus leaned forward and gently touched her on the shoulder. His grip was surprisingly soothing and soft, immediately instilling a peace upon his daughter. Leaning her head to one side, she brushed her cheek against his rough fingers and closed her eyes.

“We are here to provide guidance and they are there to create our existence. Without us they would be lost and without them we would not be.”

For a moment she sat there, eyes closed, feeling the love from her father. Then, just as an alerted fox is awakened by its instincts, her eyes snapped open, “He is coming.”

Immediately Zeus withdrew his hand and he leaned back into the throne. His lips pursed and Aphrodite drew away, knowing she may have pushed this matter too far. He knew who his daughter spoke of and such thoughts made a fire build up within as if to spew forth from within his gut. The burning was like a volcano rumbling and he fought to hold this rage back.

“It will be a test.”

Relieved that these were her father’s only words, Aphrodite felt herself relax. Only then did she realize how tense her father’s anger had made her. She sank back into the peace that always cocooned her and once again began stroking the white bird. Bowing her head she looked at the ground.

“I’m sorry if I offended you, father.”

A strong hand lifted her gently by the chin and she looked up into the love that graced her from the King of the Gods.

“You could never offend me.”


The valley stretched away before Metrius, mountains reaching up into the sky as if lifting their heads to the gods themselves. White capped, it seemed as if he could feel the cold as an entity itself, a chill that ran through the veins to make the bones shiver. Their peaks were blanketed by thick snow making them an empty canvas for the god’s paints.

A flood of greens shaded the descent into the nooks and crannies of the landscape; forests that stretched out like an endless army. Nature would always envelop these beautiful lands, making its presence known in the leaves and branches that intertwined to form its multitude. Among those trees the animals hid; rabbits that darted into its depths when danger flickered forth; delicately painted deer that nibbled the grass among the roots; and wolves that hunted in pack, sleek footed and cunning.

It was because of those wolves that Metrius now stood here so high up, a sling bag held by a strap over his shoulder and staff held in his other hand. It was cold up here, on the fields above the village, but he never complained. The sight was so awesome that every day was breathtaking, and tomorrow he would gaze upon it once again.


If you’re interested in why this story is both a mix of Ancient Rome and Ancient Greece, its actually set during the formation of Rome. There’s one theory (though its not likely to be true) that Rome was formed from a Greek colony. I played on this to design the background to my story (seen more in the later parts of the story). If you want to read some of my other stories, you can go to Hywel’s library.

The picture is taken from


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