This is fiction based on these characters from Greek Mythology.
Astrape, Zeus’ minister of Lightning, and Bronte, her counterpart in Thunder, had tired of carrying Zeus’ thunderbolts. Like many minor figures in Greek mythology, they rebelled without fear of consequence, foolishly believing that they could fool Mount Olympus.
Astrape hurled lightning bolts at the earth. Flashes continued for hours, an impossible amount of time. Men cowered. Trees splintered. Cows burned to a crisp. Fields became infernos. If nothing else, however, Zeus’ subjects felt a hair of security that this furious energy was unlike to strike them. This belief belied their circumstances, but alas, it sprouted.
The lightning stopped.
“I will outdo you,” said Bronte to an incredulous Astrape. No element could outdo lightning, the latter thought.
Thunderclaps filled the air. They rumbled through souls like a wagon wheel tackling a hard road. It shook homes, made water quiver, and sent livestock into frenzies. This pure power could not be escaped, outrun, tricked, and barely withstood. One cannot outrun a demon, and Bronte had placed one—fear beyond hope—inside each human below. There was nothing to do but pray to Zeus, and in fact, he was the one who needed to hear them. Only he could stop this.
Bronte peered from her high perch, satisfied that these subjects had suffered enough.
Below, families hoped that only lightning would return.
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A wonderful way to play with these characters of Greek mythology. Bravo!
This was such a lot of fun.
I grew up with these words, btw, must tell you Greeks that I knew also referred to a fast smack in the head you didn’t see coming was referred to (in my house) as « eating a lightning bolt » . You often would be warned of one coming your way, usually from the drivers seat of the station wagon.