The Gods and Lycaon's Feast: The Great Flood, Part 1 | A Tale from Greek Mythology

High above the mortal plane, in a celestial council room at the peak of Mount Olympus, the immortal gods were gathered together in silence. It was Zeus, their king, who had called their meeting, for reasons they didn't yet know. But very conspicuously to everyone in the room, something was wrong with Zeus. His bearded face was especially grim, and his dark eyes were lit up by a mixture of In fact, he had summoned this council in response to the most heinous of crimes. An attempt on his own life, an act of arrogant violence against the father of gods and men. What's more, it was no god or giant or titan who was to blame, but a pitiful mortal man, reckless enough to challenge Zeus himself. And this encounter had put at stake the fate of the entire human race, as its punishment hung in the balance. Its survival or destruction now rested on the decision of this council of the gods. Through the chamber's enormous golden doors, the whole pantheon of gods and goddesses had streamed in and taken their places. Ares leaned on his spear, almost hugging it with both hands. Hephaestus fidgeted in his seat and flashed a cheery smile at Aphrodite, who failed to notice, looking instead at Ares. Artemis set aside her bow at the base of her chair and slouched back, reluctant to abandon the woods for a council meeting. A troubled Hera, the queen at Zeus' side, straightened her tiara and cast a side-long glance at her husband, who was clutching his ivory scepter so tightly he looked like he would snap it in two. At last, Zeus opened his mouth to speak, and frustratedly shook his beard and locks of hair three, then four times, sending tremors through the cosmos. Olympians, my family and companions all, Zeus bellowed. Not even when I fought the giants with a hundred arms did I feel so threatened. Did our rule feel so threatened? As right now, at the hands of humanity no less. What has happened on the rocky earth below? The human race has fallen far down into ruin when one of them would stoop to murdering me. I swear this to you all by the river Styx, with an oath that cannot be broken. I shall rectify the evil of humankind, and it must be done with the full force of our power. Destruction has to be the price to pay for the wickedness of the world, which has gone beyond our help. This is the penalty for what that filth, that mockery of a king like Cain did to me, a mere mortal so arrogant as to insult me. The rest of the gods filling the council chamber interrupted with applause, pounding the arms of their golden thrones in a loud show of support. The tines of Poseidon's trident vibrated as the briny sea god shook it in the air. Zeus raised his hand augustly, the room quieted down, and the ruler of Olympus went on. Have no fear, my friends. As for this Lycaon, I've already made sure he won't trouble us ever again. Not another day will he insult us. But he is only one part of the tale I must tell you now, Olympians. Just so none of you is in doubt about the task we face at this council, here I will tell you everything. Listen to what I saw with my own eyes among the mortals, and what Lycaon did to me before I ruined him. Gods and goddesses, you know what dire times these are, and I'm sure you've learned in your own ways by now how evil humankind has become in these generations. They live without laws, without any respect for our majesty. I had heard these rumors, and so I tried to learn for myself the state of affairs on earth. I disguised myself in the form of a humble traveler, and journeyed unnoticed all across the lands, hoping to find that the stories of mankind's wickedness were just stories. But in every city and village I passed through, I saw unspeakable evil and lawlessness. Even for us immortals, there's not enough time to lay it all out for you, and I won't pollute this chamber with the details. Only rest assured, the situation demands that we act. I crossed into Greece, over the mountains Minolas and Chilene, and the pine woods of Mount Lycaeus, a place well known to me. And one evening, as the shadows grew long and the earth became dark, I arrived in the heartland of Arcadia, at the palace of King Lycaeus, the most disgusting mortal of them all. I spied the palace through the deepening night. It was a dreadful fortress, assembled from wood and crude metal, illuminated on every side by great flaming cauldrons. Expecting the worst, but fearing no harm, of course, I approached Lycaean's camp. There were little huts scattered in the open lands around the palace walls. The villagers came out to meet me, cautiously. They seemed intrigued by my presence there, but suspicious. They were shambling from their hovels through the dark, poor and despairing, with thin bodies and ragged clothes, their eyes frightened and hungry at the same time. Taking pity, I showed them signs of my power, offering food and drink, and they marveled. They knelt and worshipped me, recognizing me as the god I am. And more villagers were creeping out from their homes. This drew the attention of the giant palace, and I noticed activity on the walls. Before too long, the king himself appeared, flanked by spearmen, and half-shadowed in the gloom of the cauldron's fires. His voice boomed from the wall. When the villagers heard it, they scurried like mice back into their hovels. A fine sight you are, traveler, among these wretched creatures outside my walls, Lycaean said to me, sneering. My arms were already bristling with lightning, so disdainful was he. But I couldn't reveal myself just yet. He went on, motioning me forward to the palace. Come here, traveler, and enjoy my hospitality. I see we have a miracle worker among us tonight. I can always use the friendship of a man like that. I would say you're a god. But the way you look, you'd be a sorry excuse for one. Zeus broke off his tail for a moment, as the council room erupted at this insult. Hermes pounded his feet in their winged sandals on the floor. The armor-clad Athena was seething. Apollo raised his fist and proclaimed the shame of the Arcadian king. Zeus sternly nodded his agreement and let the boisterous council rage on for a bit longer before picking up his story again. And so this, Olympians, is how King Lycaean greeted me, a guest before his walls. And then he invited me into the palace, an offer I accepted. I had no illusions as I entered the ramshackle gates of his home. I knew he meant me harm. I am the protector of guests and the punisher of cruel hosts. I laid down laws in defense of the stranger. And I knew the look of a cutthroat. I was brought to his dining table through a winding series of dark rooms lit by torchfire. His palace was a sad imitation of the glory of our Olympus, and seemed to me more like a den for a savage beast. I soon found out, with little surprise, what Lycaean's intentions were. Discretion and subtlety were not among whatever few virtues he possessed. He himself had taken no slight notice of my miracles outside the fortress walls, and for all his disrespect, he realized that I might be more than I appeared. But he was only a fool. Rather than paying me the honors I deserved, he wanted to put me to the test, to prove my power for himself. In this he would do, with a cowardly trick, a trick he deserved to be destroyed for. Now listen to this. His plan was to murder me as I slept, as a guest in his home. And if I were to survive, then that was proof enough to him that I was truly a god. The crowd in the heavenly council was stirred into a frenzy. Hera hurled insults at Lycaean's name. Ares beat his fist against his breastplate. When Zeus quieted them all, he went on with the tale. That was his plan, Olympians. An outrage against me and against every one of you. But then, if you can even fathom how worthless this man was, Lycaean was too impatient even to carry that out. So he came up with a new test for me, another hideous offense against my laws of hospitality. And this he performed at the very table where I dined, right in front of these two eyes. The Arcadian king had in his court a hostage, a man entrusted to his palace under the seal of diplomacy by the king of the Molossians. This hostage should have been an honored guest, a symbol of goodwill between kingdoms. But now, Lycaean used this man as a mere tool in his game to expose my true nature. During our meal at the king's table, the Molossian was brought before the banqueters. Then Lycaean himself came forward. With a sudden, violent shove, he forced the hostage down on his knees and gripped the man by the hair. While he did this, he uttered some arrogant mockeries that I don't care to remember, directed at me. Then he drew a slaughtering knife, raised it up over the hostage's head to show me, and then swung down and slashed the man's throat, spraying a bloody stream across the floor. The Molossian guest bled out his life on the floor, collapsed in a sorry heap. And this Lycaean gloated over his evil excuse for a sacrifice, boasting about the quality of the meals he served at his royal table. When he said that, I knew what was coming next. Not only that mockery of our rights, but even a crime well tried on us Olympians, ever since we invited that Tantalus to our feast. He was going to feed me the dead man's human flesh. In the council, some Olympians groaned at these words, and others shuddered. Demeter quietly bit her lip and looked askance. And so Lycaean had the dead man dragged away to the cooking area, where his servants did their bloody work to prepare our feast. All the while, I noticed Lycaean leering at me from the shadows, like some wild animal taunting his prey. The fool was goading the king of the gods into revealing his real power. I couldn't hold back for too much longer. In time, the gruesome meal was finished and brought to the table. The shapes of fingers and toes jutted out from the masses of cooked human flesh, some boiled in cauldrons, some roasted over flames. Lycaean's other guests were doing their all to hide an obvious disgust, and exchanged scared looks. But they had no choice except to take part of this hospitality, and they lavished praise on the so-called king. But for me Olympians, this sight was the last disgrace I could stand. It was a joy to let loose my wrath on this pitiful, arrogant Lycaean and his court, and show him how easily I could crush him. I stood up from the table, and cast off my travelers' disguise, letting them see me in only a fraction of my true glory. That was more than enough to cause an uproar among all present, especially Lycaean himself, who had the look of a rat in the shadow of an eagle. I leveled my eyes at him, my fingers crackling with lightning. Now he had his proof. But he didn't stay more than a second, and took off from the banquet room ahead of anyone else. He wouldn't escape me, that he could count on. But before I would end him, I wanted to make a show of my might for these cowering mortals, and destroy his kingdom all the way to the root. More guests, servants, and guards scurried away as I lifted my arms toward the skies, the pale fire of my lightning rippling through my veins. Oh, you should have seen it, Olympians. With a great, booming clap of thunder, and an eruption of light, I shattered the foundations of his palace, splintered all its pillars and walls, and blasted its frame into cinders. I could smell the fire in the air, as sweet as the most savory sacrifice. With an almighty crash, the huge roof fell down from above, and the whole place caved in. The fortress was buried under a flaming heap of wreckage. I stepped out of the rubble of Lycaon's house, finally satisfied that some justice was done. But my friends, the real delight was yet to come. It was then that I spied the ruined king, dashing across the open fields like a frightened hare. I watched him go, and believe me, I took no small pleasure in the sight of another proud mortal brought to nothing for his hubris in challenging me. I raised myself up into the air, and as I tracked him, it occurred to me how unlike a man this Lycaon really was. His mind was vicious. He lurked in the shadows. He hungered for blood. He was more like a beast than a man. And so I deemed him unworthy to enjoy the form shared by mortals and immortals alike. I wanted him to be forever cut off from the company and speech and shape of humankind. As soon as I judged him so, I looked on with joy as my will was done in the blink of an eye. He stopped running as his legs were sapped of their strength, and he let out a shriek as he hit the ground. The clothes that covered him stiffened into bristling gray hairs and a bushy tail. His body grew longer, and when his two arms turned into legs, he scrambled to run on all fours. His cries echoing across the silent fields turned into baying and howling. Lycaon the man was dead, and the wolf was born. But even so, I still recognized the lean features of his face, the gray and grizzled complexion and the yellow eyes glowing with bloodthirst. As he sped through the fields from his destroyed kingdom, his attention was drawn away by a flock of sheep penned up nearby. And so Lycaon, as a hungry wolf, would spend the rest of his days prowling alone in the wilds of Arcadia. Justice was done, his abuse of his guests was avenged, and his hubris was properly dealt with. And with that, I departed from the dark earth and returned to you all here in the swirling skies above. The council of the gods sat solemn as Zeus finished his tale. But though Lycaon had been punished and the king of the gods still reigned, each and every one of them knew their work was not done. A much more serious decision still remained. Taking a long breath, Zeus pounded his scepter on the gleaming floor and rose up from his throne. Gods and goddesses all, one kingdom of men has collapsed, but many more still stand heedless of our laws and spread their evil across the face of the earth. In every land, among every people, wickedness reigns supreme, as if all humankind swore oaths to injustice rather than justice. If we are to maintain order in this grand realm, the earth must be wiped clean from the stain of mortal evil. This is the penalty they have brought upon themselves. The task awaits us, as the gods who rule all. Now we must decide our course and do it quickly. This is the judgment of almighty Zeus. And so humanity's days were numbered, and this most solemn of councils went on, while the universe awaited the verdict with bated breath.