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I am Hera

History has written my story. I am nothing but a minial character in all the stories, or even the main villain. Has history ever looked at me You have hated me. You have reviled me. You have mocked me, but...do you know who I am. Do you truly know me ? Do you know my story? What if I tell you my story? Will you listen? I leave it to your deduction and the only thing I will do is I tell you my story. Hate me. Love me . I don't care. but you must know the truth. You must know what true love is. You must know what true vengeance is. After all, I would know best, I am Hera, the vengeful goddess. Please leave your comments and vote if you like the story. DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION. All the characters are NOT REAL.

ariam_N_M · แฟนตาซี
เรตติ้งไม่พอ
13 Chs

My darkness

The first act of love my father showed me when I was born was to swallow me whole.

Darkness and warmth were the first things I was familiar with. As time ebbed away, these two became irreplaceable parts of my small world. I loved this silent, warm, and dark world, but come to think of it, it was all I had known. The best I had known Through it all, I knew I was not yet complete or whole.

With time, I became more aware of the things around me. I began hearing voices speaking, but they sounded so far away. Where were they? Are there others like me? I could never answer those questions in the darkness that I had known my whole existence. I had to start moving towards the voices, the ones who were possibly like me. I had to leave everything I knew.

So, I began moving in the darkness, pulling and pushing the darkness with every part of my body that would move. With each pull or push I made, I was met with equal resistance. Sometimes it demotivated me from trying, and sometimes it urged me to try harder. When I was starting to think it might all be futile, this back and forth I heard a more clear voice. A soft voice, a voice that stroked my heart softly, giving me a sense of elation.

Interestingly, I understood each word uttered by the voice.

"My love, be still; I feel you. You are one energetic one. Ha, ha, ha, it's okay. Darling, if you can hear me, always know that mother and your father love you. We love you so much, and I love you so much. Always. "

I was so happy hearing those words, for I knew they were meant for me and only me. However, I could not be still like the voice said. I tried reaching out to the source of the voice, but it was all hopeless; the darkness was fighting me even more ardently.

A small pain hit my heart as helplessness overtook me. I wanted to touch the source of the voice! I wanted to be free! I wanted to see the source of the voice! Why couldn't I be free? Slowly, I felt something within me crack as I made futile efforts to be free.

Before I completely broke, I heard the smooth voice again. The voice was not speaking; it was making a sound without producing words. She was humming. It was a continuous sound filled with musicality; it was sweet, soothing, and healing.

I felt warmth flowing within me with each note produced, and slowly I calmed down.

"Are you calm, little one? My little Hera. I want you to know you are loved immensely. Even your father has his own way of showing his love, so fear not when he shows his love. Okay darling? ..."

I wanted to respond and tell her I understood, but it was useless to try. I just moved one of my limbs in an effort to communicate. She laughed melodically when I moved. It filled me with endless rapture when I heard her beautiful laughter.

"That is good; you understand. So now I want you to wait patiently. Do not worry, you will see mother and father in due time. Our strings of fate will intertwine when the time is right."

I listened. I was obedient. So, I did not fight the darkness; I rested. Somehow, I could feel time passing slowly; I heard the angelic voice more often, and my happiness fluctuated with each utterance of the voice. I soon came to realise, with the continuous soliloquy of the voice, that the owner of the voice was my mother.

My mother, who loved me dearly, I loved her equally as much. However, through my time in the darkness, I never heard my father's voice, a person whom my mother seemed to love, and she said she loved both him and myself.

At a time when I was feeling the space in the darkness was becoming too small. I heard an ominous voice.

"Is it time?" a gruff voice asked.

I felt something chocking my throat, but these weren't my feelings. They were someone else's, someone I seemed to be connected to. I tried reaching out to comfort them, but I was filled with an even worse feeling; my heat was being sustained by my understanding helplessness. This was fear. It was not my own fear; it was the fear of my mother.

However, I did not know that at the time.

"Not yet, husband; it is still a long way off." The voice of my mother responded with a slight quiver to the owner of the gruff voice.

I was filled with a feeling I can't explain—I really wanted to go and help my mother. I don't know why I had to help her. I began the fervent struggle against darkness once more, a struggle I had long given up on, but at this point I had to do something.

Whilst I began my struggle, my mother continued speaking, " You only need to be pati...ah!... ha!"

Mother didn't manage to finish speaking when sounds filled with pain escaped her lips as she began groaning in pain. I was hit with a sense of panic and began struggling more earnestly against the darkness. I want to do something.

I heard the owner's gruff voice chuckling ominously, then speaking spitefully, "Woman, your water has broken; give birth quickly and do what must be done. Obey your husband. Wife."

The ominous chuckling that made me feel nauseous started again. It was slowly fading away.

I felt relief wash over me as the chuckling slowly faded away. I knew these were not my feelings again, but it helped erode the previous negative feelings that had taken root in me. However, before the relief could fully set in, I felt the darkness, which always wanted to keep me, push me away. Pushing and pushing and pushing, to the point that it was becoming irritating. I turned myself around to get the least force from the darkness. However, it did not stop.

I heard my mother's voice screaming in pain, and I knew something critical was happening. The screaming was continuous; it was tormenting; it was heart-rending. I wanted to go to her; I wanted to comfort her, so this pushing by the darkness was ideal. With time, the screams became heavy pants, and in between those pants, my mother spoke in a soft and weak whisper, "Hera, can you hear me? I want you to know that whatever your father does when he meets you, it is his way of showing love to you, my darling.

Knowing that my mother was sincere, I trusted her. After all, she had always told me that she and my father loved me. I felt elated. I knew I was finally going to meet my mother and father, who loved me unconditionally. I relaxed, and with that, I felt the darkness make one strong push and cast me into the light. It was blinding.

I breathed in the new air around me and the crowd. This was scary, this was cold, and this was new. Where was I? I didn't know at that time, but I was born, and I was a new-born baby. Before my crying elapsed into an endless cycle, I was cleaned and placed in a warm embrace.

Then, I heard a familiar soft voice say, "Welcome to the world." It was my mother.

I opened my eyes and beheld a beautiful woman who was emitting a godly aura. I smiled for the first time in this world. Suddenly, I heard a loud bang. Mother tightened her grip on me when she looked at the source of the noise. "Give me the child woman," the hoarse voice I had grown to hate spoke, " Give me my daughter."

It was my father speaking; I would see the man who induced fear in my mother. Reluctantly, my mother started to outstretched me towards the source of the voice. I landed in his arms and was shocked to Behold a cruel-faced man with dark, bottomless eyes and eyebrows so sharp that they could cut stone.

He wore a grotesque sneer as he looked at me and spoke to me in distaste, "Child, I am your father."

With those words, he opened his mouth wide, raised me up, and dropped me. I felt a sense of fear rise up in the microseconds I was falling. Before me, I saw a wide chasm of darkness that contrasted with the new and bright light I had just met. It became hard to breathe.

I felt like something was tied around my neck; a noose of fear was around my neck. I was afraid. I could not even speak. I could not even breathe. I was frozen. I was dying, and I had just been born. My heart clenched. Was this it? Then I remembered what my mother told me: the first action my father took towards me was one of love. Bitter peace washed over me. I was loved.

I am loved. Then darkness consumed me. My father loved me so much that he swallowed me whole. The first act of love my father showed me when I was born was to swallow me whole.

That was true love.