Prologue

Hera and Athena watched as the scene unfolded. Helen of Sparta begged Oenone to heal Paris “Alexander of Troy,” the man she loved. Paris shouldn’t have chosen Aphrodite as the most beautiful amongst them and given her the golden apple. He was warned he would live to regret it, and there he was mortally wounded on the battlefield by Philoctetes. Did he think no one heard Oenone’s cries when he left her for Helen of Sparta? Did he think the two goddesses would’ve ignored her as she pleaded for them to restore her heart and make her better? Hera, along with Athena, had hardened Oenone’s heart, and she became bitter. So bitter this moment didn’t matter to her. Cursing Paris was the only way for her. Oenone  made her decision, Paris was dying.

“I will not heal him. He will die… He will know what it feels like to love someone much more than himself as I have loved him… To love someone so much, it drives you mad to the point of insanity. He will suffer as I have. He will love her more than he’s ever claimed to love you. When he sees her, he will fall for her at the snap of mere fingers. Dying is too easy for someone such as him. As for you, Oh Helen of Sparta, you who coveted someone else’s husband, may you die with misery and shame. Your love will be meaningless to him. You will be but a bitter memory.” Oenone spoke filled with bitterness in her heart.

“No! No! Please help him. Save him. Heal him. You loved him such as I have. Do it because you love him,” Helen of Sparta begged.

Oenone laughed such a bitter laugh as she looked over at Helen of Sparta. She didn’t care. Neither of them would ever get his love not even in death or the afterlife.

Helen of Sparta cried all the way back to where Paris was. By the time she came back to him, he had passed away. It only took days for his fatal wounds to conquer his body and soul. She couldn’t speak as she watched his funeral pyre burn on. She was numb to it all and didn’t speak a word, but there was a commotion that went on, and she turned towards the noise. She watched as Oenone struggled with the guards. Then, after a moment, she broke loose and ran towards Paris’ funeral pyre. Helen of Sparta gasped as Oenone threw herself in the funeral pyre. Her body burning right along with his.

Hera and Athena watched the whole thing as it transpired. They didn’t understand why Oenone would throw herself into the fire, but then they turned to their right seeing Aphrodite standing there in the far corner of the funeral pyre. She did something before they heard her last words.

“You will find your true love Paris, Alexander of Troy. This may not have been your time for it, but you will know when it’s time. The name which means ‘fiery love’ or ‘born of flames’ mixed in there with Eros will be the one for you. She will be born with one purpose … to be yours.” Aphrodite blew in the fire causing the flames to grow higher and brighter. She needed a sacrifice to give him what he truly needed. Oenone was the sacrifice, but not his. Neither woman was born to be his.

No one noticed as the bodies were swapped. Oenone burned there in the fire as Paris’ body evaporated. Aphrodite smiled and disappeared from the scene. None of the humans even knew she was ever there.