Zeus & Byzantine - Chapter 3: Higher Calling

I sat behind a teak desk, various antiques within reach, and a thick notebook filled with doodles and scattered sketches open before me. Across from me, a woman in her forties sat gracefully on a carved wooden chair, wearing a long cream-colored skirt and a soft, light sweater. Her face, serene and luminous, looked younger than her age—like someone caught in the golden hour of life.

“Zeus has the art of making his lovers know that he is Zeus,” she said with a wry smile.

“Is it art?” I raised an eyebrow.

“He’s mastered the art of approaching women.”

“But in mythology, wasn’t he... impulsive? Reckless? Acting without thinking?”

“I always wanted him to swoop down and carry me off, like Ganymede,” she laughed softly. “Then fly me straight to Olympus. But as you can see... I’m still here, sitting across from you. The Zeus of legend must’ve died long ago.”

“Died? Isn’t he supposed to be immortal?”

“Oh, he’s immortal,” she said, her eyes distant. “He’s always been here. And still is.”

“Then tell me,” I leaned in, notebook forgotten, “how did he reveal himself to you? Why would he want to show you who he truly is?”