Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

The sky was tinged with the hues of dawn, and a moist, warm breeze blew across the earth. Mornings after rain were always intoxicating, but Pandora, who had just awoken, was not in the least bit uplifted in spirit.

Yesterday, she had seen off yet another goddess who had come to flaunt her treasures. This time, the visitor had brought a string of pearls, said to be jewels nurtured by the surviving shellfish of a previous epoch in the depths of the sea.

Thalia had meticulously recounted the origins of these shellfish: they were born in the Golden Age, absorbing the essence of ocean water and starlight from above, and it took hundreds of years for a single pearl to form.

Though not a single mocking word was spoken, the insinuation could not have been clearer. Pandora couldn’t understand why there were such tedious deities in the world.

But then again, it wasn’t certain, for the deities’ daily lives were indeed dull. Maybe Thalia was just looking for some amusement.

What Pandora couldn’t accept, however, was that she might very well be that amusement.

“So, what exactly is in here?”

Seated at the table, Pandora tapped on an urn adorned with mysterious patterns.

Now, she lived alone in this place. Epimetheus had disappeared to who knows where, her daughter Pitha had been taken by her cousin to frolic, and might not return for a few days. Only Pandora was left to stay here alone.

The only companionship she had, aside from the plants and flowers, was this urn of unknown use.

“Hmph, all your things are borrowed, but Hades’ gift is mine alone!”

With a cold snort, as if to comfort herself. But though she said this, Pandora had no clue how the urn functioned.

It was said to absorb disaster and pain, yet Pandora could not perceive these conceptual presences. She had tried asking Epimetheus, but he too professed ignorance. Thus in her eyes, it was just an ordinary urn, nothing special.

As for the additional gift sent by Liana, the ruling deity of the Underworld, Pandora was even more puzzled.

‘Nothing is impossible.’ She desired to become a deity and wanted the tedious Thalia to fear her. Since all of this was impossible, could this urn somehow make it happen?

“Maybe… it really could?”

Pandora pursed her lips, unconsciously stroking her long hair that fell over her shoulders.

If there had been no precedent in this world, she might not have entertained such thoughts. But there was indeed one.

The Goddess of the Magic Net, Hecate, was said to be a godly being birthed during the age of the second Divine King, like Pandora herself; others claimed she was actually a descendant of a Titan. However, the god renowned to be her father, the God of Material Destruction, had not appeared in the world for a long time.

No one knew his whereabouts, and thus it was difficult to verify. At least for now, Pandora preferred to believe that it was a life form similar to her own.

“Sigh — I mustn’t open it.”

She half extended her hand and then quickly retreated, forcing herself not to look at the urn.

This utterly ordinary urn seemed to possess a magic power; lately, it always stirred her mind. This was particularly true when she was alone at home.

Feeling somewhat agitated, Pandora placed the urn on the table and then went out alone to clear her mind.

…

That night.

The post-rain air carried the fragrance of petals, and as Pandora lay in bed, her eyes looked somewhat lifeless.

Her thoughts roamed freely, imagining various futures. Perhaps it was innate; her strong desire to discover everything made it unbearable to have such an unknown object right beside her, right before her eyes.

“This was clearly a gift meant for me.”

Biting her lip, the outside sky had grown dark. It was another night of stars without the Moon. On such nights, a certain inexplicable palpitation arose in Pandora’s heart.

All was silent; it was as if she were the only person here. Everything had drifted away from her, leaving only the woman lying in bed and the urn that seemed to be gazing back at her.

The intertwining patterns on it looked like an eye.

For a moment, Pandora even thought the eye blinked, but then she realized it was just an illusion.

It was just an ordinary urn, no different from others. If there was anything special about it, it was perhaps that it contained some extraordinary things.

“But I can’t see them!”

Her breathing quickened, unusually distinct in the silence. In the past, she had wanted to open the urn more than once, but each time she had ultimately stopped herself.

She remembered Hades’ instructions, but just as Thalia had said, the master of the Underworld hadn’t actually mentioned any consequences of opening it. And even if there were, under the gods’ blessings, it could not possibly harm Pandora.

“The gods’ divine power is limited upon the earth. They were even deceived by mortals for decades, and it was only after mortals treacherously betrayed their creators that the gods realized it,” Epimetheus had told her this.

“If…”

Murmuring softly, Pandora sat up from bed.

It was said that the Goddess of the Magic Net was also born on a starlit but moonless night like this one. Bearing celestial fire, she walked the earth for thousands of years and ultimately ascended to divinity. Perhaps fate was also hinting that this was the perfect opportunity?

“Just this once.”

Indeed, just once. Under the hazy starlight, Pandora silently vowed.