Myth-take Challenge #15

Villamvihar

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Myths and legends could be said to be the prototypes of modern novels. They are stories in their own right, tales that were passed on for generations. Even today, some elements from the old myths remain in our stories and occasionally, they serve as inspiration.

This week’s mythical element is: Anchises

anchises.jpg


In Greek and Latin mythology, Anchises is the father of Aeneas, the hero who escaped the burning of Troy and later went on to found Rome. His story is a twisted love story, as it was no one other than Aphrodite, the goddess of love who fell in love with him. Coming down from the Olympus, Aphrodite disguised herself and seduced Anchises, then left him. Only when Aeneas was born did Aphrodite reveal her divine nature to Anchises, however, she warned him that if he told others that he made love to a god, then Zeus' lightning bolt would strike him, and cripple him. Anchises managed to keep his promise for a long time, however, one night, he got too drunk and spilled the truth. Just as Aphrodite promised, Zeus punished Anchises, turning him into a man who could not even move a muscle.

Your challenge is to write a story that incorporates your own take on this mythical element. The genre and setting of the story does not matter as long as the element remains recognisable.
 
Mary Little worked as a slave on the Pearson plantation in the 1850s. Her mother was a house slave, and ever since she was six, she was serving in the kitchen. When Lady Pearson had her third child the wet nurse took care of him as was the usual but it was decided later to put Mary in charge of watching him once he had grown up. There was a seven year gap between them. Her being eleven and him four. She made sure he was dressed and everything was in order every day. But one day she peeked in on him while he was playing in his room. He was stacking blocks with oddly shaped symbols on them, putting them in different order and then smiling. "Pawdon mees sir. But whats those?" she asked. "They're letters," the boy said happily. "I'm making words." As it so happened, this interested Mary greatly, and she began to mess with the blocks herself whenever her young charge was out somewhere else. She began to learn to recognize different letters and eventually began to make tiny words, copying the boy. "Cat, C-A-T," she muttered, putting the corresponding letters together. It was tough with just a four year old with a shorr attention span to teach her but she learned how to read. Suddenly life had new meaning, she read everything, from the words on the master's carriages to the bible passages at church. She managed to keep this skill hidden from her masters until her young charge swapped out for a bigger bed. The set came in pieces and needed to be put together. Master Pearson placed the pieces in his son's room. So the next day when Mary entered and found the unmade bed she decided to build it herself. She read the instructions on how to put it together and did just that. Right before she was to put the final piece in Master Pearson came into the room. He saw that she was putting the bed frame together, a feat impossible for someone who could not read. Without another moment he grabbed Mary by the wrist, dragging her into the back and placing her hand on the stump used to decapitate the chickens. He grabbed the axe and with one fell swoop he cut off Mary's left index finger at the knuckle. From that day on Mary never read another word again, and spent the rest of her days as a slave in the fields, until civil war came and the Union soldiers freed her fifteen years later.
 
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