The man ran his hands through his hair as he leaned back in his chair, sighing. His curly, black hair stood up in tufts after his fingers had raked through it, but by then he was too exhausted to care about appearances. Lids closed over bloodshot eyes as he slumped back from his ledger, letting his arms fall to his sides. He felt the relief of darkness wash over his nerves.

Moments passed as he let each of the muscles in his body unwind. Work had been particularly grueling that day; two of the minor gods had rung his phone off the hook over a miscommunication that resulted in a lack of company to the most recent gala that was put on, while several mortals were sending in petition after petition for his intervention in crop production. How did this job get so complicated? he asked himself. Once upon a time, the breezes blew where they would. Now they need delegation — and I’m the one left responsible for it.

He needed a mental break, and he had just the place to go: the terrace.

It was already night by the time he was able to slip away from work for this moment of relaxation. The cool night air met him as he passed through the glass doors leading outside of his home. Stars were scattered across the sky, millions of tiny, white pinpoints breaking through the black. The man studied the darkness above him; he reasoned that it had to have been close to midnight by then.

A soft breeze blew by, tickling across his skin. He whispered a soft murmur of appreciation and smiled. As if in response, the breeze picked up, flowing around the man like young children greeting their father. “Thank you, little ones,” the man laughed.

“Am I interrupting anything?” a feminine voice asked from behind him.

The breeze stopped abruptly as the man’s eyes snapped open. That voice — he knew that voice. But it had been a long time since it last addressed him.

He turned to find a woman clad in a long, teal-colored evening gown. As she stepped forward into the moonlight, the colors seemed to shift and change, flowing from teal to sapphire and all the way to emerald. Long, chestnut-colored hair tumbled down her shoulders, framing an angular face with piercing green eyes. Her only adornment was a bronze peacock necklace, its feathers winding their way around her throat.

“Hera.”

“Hello, Aeolus,” the woman replied. “I hope I’ve not caught you at a bad time.”

The man bowed deeply as she approached. “No, my queen. Just taking a moment of rest from the day’s work. I’ll go back to it soon, ma’am.”

Hera clicked her tongue, shaking her head in disapproval. “Darling, what have I told you about all the bowing? And the ‘ma’am’s and ‘my queen’s? You’re royalty, just the same as me, Aeolus. That makes us equals.” The goddess’s face softened. “And we have been friends for far too long to warrant such formality.”

Aeolus straightened, a hesitant smile on his face. “Old habits, I guess. No matter how long the mortals regard me as a god, no matter how many years I live, I fear that I shall never grow accustomed to royalty, let alone divinity.”

“Oh, it gets dull after a while. The world cycles through itself again and again. The conflicts we had millennia ago are the same ones we have now — only the names of the players change. It would be comical if it weren’t so pathetic.”

“Those sound like the words of a goddess who has a chip on their shoulder,” Aeolus said. “I assume you came here because something happened. Social calls were never much of a thing for us.”

Hera pursed her lips, pouting at the man’s words. “Come now, darling. Don’t you remember the time that Zeus and I came by for drinks with the Four Winds?”

“That visit was made with the intent of speaking to us about assisting with the rather unfortunate flood that struck Persia.”

“Okay…” the goddess trailed off, furrowing her brow. “Then what about that dinner party we had a little while ago?”

Aeolus laughed, the sound echoing through the trees and along the cliff on which his home was situated. “What? You mean the one from two hundred years ago? The one meant to discuss the fall of the Minoans? Again, Hera: business.”

“Fine, you’ve got me. I come to you because you’re reliable, Aeolus. I can trust you, which is more than I can say for most of the beings that surround me.” She placed a hand lightly on his upper arm. “But we’re still friends, though, aren’t we?”

The man stiffened for a moment, then released a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

“What is it that I can do for you, my queen?”

Hera dropped her hand, letting it fall limply to her side. She cleared her throat and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Ah, finally getting to business, Aeolus thought.

“There is a force coming that the Oracles have said will destroy my favored city — the city of Carthage. These people are a tribe of wandering slaves who seek to pillage, plunder, and destroy. They will sack my city, killing thousands of innocents, and claim it for their own. I aim to stop them, but I need your help.”

“I’ve heard tell of these people,” Aeolus began. “Their leader is the son of your sister, Aphrodite; that makes him your nephew, my lady. You wish me to intervene on family affairs without the approval of your husband?”

“Zeus knows I’m here.”

Aeolus looked the goddess up and down. Her eyes flickered from his own to the horizon beyond, then back again. She remained still, yet her fingers drummed on her elbow — a habit she had when she wasn’t being entirely truthful. He had seen it many times in the past during their meetings and audiences; it was Hera’s only tell.

“Should I call him, then? I’d been meaning to speak to him about matters concerning the airline anyway. Perhaps we could have ourselves a little conference call?”

Hera’s jaw clenched, her eyes boring into Aeolus’s. A divine aura began to glow about her as she trembled. Aeolus stared on, unaffected by her display of rage.

The standoff continued for what seemed like several minutes. By then, Hera realized that the god of winds was not to be dissuaded. She dropped the aura, letting it fade into nothingness as she sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

“Okay,” she admitted. “He doesn’t know I’m here. But you and I both know that he wouldn’t care anyway. The day that he actually pays attention to where I go and what I do will be the day that our father rises from Tartarus to bring about the end of the world.”

“It’s not my place to agree or disagree with that. However, you came here for a reason, and I want to know what that is. The real reason, Hera. Not some excuse that you’ll let yourself fall back on later.” Aeolus crossed his arms over his chest. “If you want me in this, you have to be honest with me.”

Hera looked hard into his eyes, as if she would find the sincerity in his words within them. A few moments passed in silence before she responded: “Fine. But what I told you is true. Perhaps a little embellished, but it is true.”

“Fair enough. Now, if you please?”

The goddess moved from her position next to the terrace railing to the nearby patio area. She sat down in one of the wicker chairs, crossing her long legs over each other. Aeolus followed and seated himself across from her.

“That damned mortal made a fool of me in front of the entirety of Olympus. I am the queen of the gods! None else can make that claim, Aeolus. So who would logically be the ideal recipient of that apple? Me. Not Aphrodite, and certainly not Athena. Me.”

Aeolus watched as she continued to rage, a faint glow outlining her body. “I offered that fool control over Europe and Asia. He could have been a king, dammit! A king with an empire even more vast and mighty than his father’s. The world would hear his name and tremble. But instead, what does he do? He does what every man does, both mortal and divine, and thinks with the head between his legs!

“Gaia help me, I would destroy that man if I could. But so much has already been lost because of this war. And now these Trojans are going to cause more casualties in Carthage. They’ve already cost me my dignity and that of my daughter, Hebe. I have to save face somehow; that’s why I’m coming to you, darling. I need you to do something about them before it’s too late.”

“What is it that you would have me do?”

Hera turned her eyes to the horizon, staring off in thought. After a few moments and without breaking her gaze, she responded: “Perhaps you could stir up the winds and destroy their vessels. I know the Four Winds can be quite destructive when left to their own devices.” Her eyes flickered back to Aeolus. “I could make it worth your while.”

His eyes jerked towards hers as his eyebrows flew up in surprise. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to form words. “My queen, I’m flattered, but I have to respectfully remind you of my place beneath you in terms of rank… and also remind you of your husband’s rather violent propensity towards anger.”

The goddess cocked her head and stared at Aeolus as the puzzle pieces within her mind began to fall into place. “Did… did you think I meant that — gods, no! How would it look if the Queen Goddess, the patron of marriage and birth, were to turn adulterous? Why, I’d be no better than my husband at that rate!”

She laughed coldly and without mirth. Aeolus breathed a heavy sigh of relief and pressed his fingers to his temples. Hera saw this and said, “Oh, don’t act so relieved! I have you know that you would be damn lucky to get a piece of a goddess even a quarter as perfect as me.”

Weary, the man looked up. “Can we please get back to the matter at hand, your grace?”

Hera shook her head and scoffed. “I can offer you the most beautiful of my sea nymphs: Deiopea. She has languished after you from afar, and has volunteered herself to be your wife, should you help me in this matter.”

Silence filled the space between them at the goddess’s words. Aeolus could hear the waves crashing against the rocks far below the terrace upon which they sat. A gentle breeze brushed past his face, shifting his hair. He rose from his seat, walked toward the railing, and leaned against it.

“You know,” Hera began, standing up herself, “most men would jump at the opportunity I just set before you.”

“And I am flattered,” Aeolus replied, watching the waves. “And I mean no offense to the lady — I’m sure she’s beautiful — but I will have to decline your offer. You are my queen, Hera. So while I may not agree with everything that you do, I am still duty-bound to follow you. It’s only by your generosity that I even have the dominion that I do; I’d be just another mortal king if it weren’t for your intervention.”

He turned to face Hera, still leaning against the railing. “Please offer my apologies to Deiopea. I just can’t accept a reward for something that I’m supposed to do, no matter how enticing the reward may be.”

“So you’re with me, then?”

Aeolus did not answer. Instead, he reached down and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. He then tapped a few keys and brought it to his ear. It rang for a few seconds before the call was picked up.

Yes, boss?

“Boreas, get the boys together. I have a job for you.”