The performance, under the tacit cooperation of the three deities, revealed no flaws.
The Goddess of Victory hurried to the Pantheon to report the theft of the golden apple to the King of the Gods. Zeus was furious and addressed the rejoicing gods, "Gods, one of you has stolen the golden apple my mother bestowed upon me!"
Saying this, he hurled the golden goblet filled with nectar to the ground.
The amber liquid spilled across the floor, and the music of Apollo and the nine Muses fell silent.
The nine Muses, who presided over literature and art, were conceived by Mnemosyne, the Goddess of Memory, under the influence of the laws of procreation. Not bearing to let her nine daughters suffer the same loneliness as herself, Mnemosyne implored Tyche to bring them to the divine mountain and bestow upon them the glory befitting deities.
Although Mnemosyne, under Gaia's coercion, had used her power of memory to conceal the existence of Eros, nearly causing Tyche to falter, she was not the mastermind. She had voluntarily relinquished her position as a principal goddess. In consideration of her past warning, Tyche accepted the Muses.
Despite possessing only a weak divine power, the Muses, with Tyche's care, integrated seamlessly into Mount Olympus. Their divine duties were highly compatible with Apollo's, and they quickly became friends. The emergence of divine roles such as eloquence, dance, hymns, tragedy, and astronomy enhanced Apollo's power.
Under the protection of this son of the King of the Gods, the goddesses lived carefree lives, subtly showing signs of becoming Apollo's subordinate deities.
Apollo, busy with inspiration and art, soothed the startled goddesses. Calliope, the eldest of the Muses and goddess of eloquence and epic poetry, quietly inquired, "Your Highness, who could have stolen the golden apple from the divine mountain?"
Apollo, steadying his trembling lyre, scanned the assembled gods and arrived at an answer. "I believe the thief is not among the gods present. Of the deities who are absent, only the foreseer Prometheus possesses the ability to steal the golden apple from under our father's nose."
The star-watching gods, who were patrolling the outer reaches of the world on behalf of the King of the Gods, emerged from the starlight. Phaenon, the God of Saturn, reported to the principal deity, "Respected King of the Gods, while patrolling the celestial sphere, we saw Prometheus hastily departing the divine mountain. Aside from him, no other deity is suspected of stealing the golden apple."
An enraged Zeus ordered the Gods of Strength and Violence to imprison Prometheus in a cave on Mount Caucasus, chaining his ankles, and commanded the star-watching gods to guard him strictly; without the King of the Gods' command, the foreseer could not leave.
As for the stolen golden apple, it seemed to be forgotten by the King of the Gods.
All was arranged by fate. Pandora, endowed with all manner of beauty, met Epimetheus, the afterthought, on Earth. The god of afterthoughts was smitten with the beautiful Pandora and eagerly pursued her.
Thus, divinity flowed into the bloodline of humanity. Epimetheus and Pandora bore a daughter, Pyrrha, a demigoddess who inherited her mother's beauty. Upon growing up, she became the wife of Deucalion. Deucalion was the son of Prometheus and Pronoia, whose mother was an Oceanid. Pronoia was a nymph with foresight, but alas, she was not a complete goddess. Though her son with Prometheus inherited some of his parents' powers, he did not receive complete divinity and could not possess eternal life.
Deucalion grew up among humans from childhood. After his father was imprisoned in Mount Caucasus, he lived with his uncle Epimetheus.
During those happy and beautiful days, Pandora was tormented by a secret. From her earliest memories, she held a finely crafted box. Curiosity urged her to open it, but reason always warned her at critical moments, enabling her to suppress her curiosity at the last moment.
Without Prometheus's guidance, the inherent belligerence of the black iron humans was reawakened, and disputes and quarrels returned to the land.
One day, a ragged old woman arrived at the village where Pandora lived. She knocked on the door of the first household, seeking a drink of water, but the door remained tightly shut, with no response.
The old woman went to the second household, only to receive the same treatment, until she knocked on Pandora's door.
Epimetheus had left his wife and daughter to go to Mount Caucasus to visit his imprisoned brother, and Pyrrha's husband, Deucalion, had gone hunting in the forest. Only two women were at home.
Pandora possessed all good virtues. Kind-hearted, she invited the old woman in for dinner. Influenced by her mother, Pyrrha gratefully accepted all the unknowns of life, with laughter surrounding her.
Pyrrha was curious about the old woman's experiences, showing no disdain for her ragged clothes, and gently leaned beside the old woman, listening to her recount her travels.
The old woman lamented her misfortune, "I have two sons. The elder one is addicted to hunting day and night. One time, he went into the forest and never returned. I haven't seen him for a long time."
Pandora and Pyrrha looked on with pity. The forest was not only home to carnivorous beasts but also to monsters hidden in the shadows. The old woman's elder son had likely met with misfortune and could no longer return to his mother.
Pyrrha could not help but ask, "What about your younger son? Why did he let you leave the protection of your clan and travel alone?"
Tears streamed down the old woman's face, "My younger son is a great leader. He is often too busy to stop. I have already witnessed him marry and have children, and I have no regrets."
"But I can never forget my eldest son, who has vanished without a trace. I wish to find any trace of him in the final days of my life, so that I may depart in peace."
Saying this, she wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and sobbed, covering her face with her hands.
The kind mother and daughter embraced the old woman, shedding tears of sympathy for her misfortune.
Deucalion, returning home, heard the weeping from inside and hurried to push open the door, only to see three women clinging to each other and weeping uncontrollably. Pyrrha's sorrow did not dissipate with her husband's return. She recounted to him the story of the old woman traveling alone to find her missing elder son and inquire about him.
Deucalion set down the game he carried on his shoulder and, with a somber expression, comforted the unfortunate mother.
"Sad elder, please stay in our dwelling for a while. Although I cannot offer you much help, at least let you have ample rest."
As he spoke, Deucalion seemed to recall something, and his face lit up with excitement. "In the forest, I encountered deities who drove wolves, and the kind sons of river gods were also hunting in the woods. Perhaps they know news of your son!"
The old woman's weeping paused, and she muttered, "I have nothing left to offer as a sacrifice. How would the gods guide me to find my poor child?"