Star of Mussolini

A Story by A.R.Regan

The Greek Myth of how the North star and the rest of the stars came to be.

Long long ago in the ancient land of Argos there was a mountain. The mountain was the tallest mountain in all of Greece. The villagers of Argos called the mountain Mussolini. Many had tried to climb the mountain, for they believed it led to the mountain Olympus the home of the Gods, but all who tried failed miserably or were killed by the monster Turfan. Turfan is a monster with a pale face that looks to be the face of a sake and the body of a lion she lures her victims to her layer with a song to pass the ages.

The goddess Hera became furious that this monster was killing her people. Hera went to the Oracle to find out if someone would defeat the Turfan.

“Sixteen years shale come to pass and a hero will arise. Half mortal half god. This child will have blade of both mother and father in hand and shale kill the monster Turfan and set the havens a light with all the souls lost to the Turfan. The child shale die in the fight and the soul of this child shale be the brightest light in all the havens. The child’s soul shale mark the way to the Gods for all of time.” The Oracle told Hera.

Hera sighed her people would surfer for sixteen long years in untill this hero was born. She wondered who this child would be and what god would have fathered him.

A few weeks later Hera found she was with child. The father of this child was a mortal who lived in the village of Argos. Nine months latter Hera had a little baby girl.

“What shale I call you my child?” Hera asked the child, as if she could answer the question. “I know. I shale call you Narcissa.”

When Zeus found that he was not the father of Narcissa he went into a terrible furry. In order to save her little daughter Hera sent her to Argos to live with her father. Hera watched from a far as her daughter grew up. Narcissa was a thin girl with pale colored skin, white blond hair, and eyes the color of the night sky, but with only one difference her eyes had golden sparks that gleamed bright white in the light from the moon.

Sixteen years passed and the people of Argos surfaced at the hands of the monster Turfan. They prayed day and night to Hera to save them, they begged her to send them a hero who would slay the monster. On Narcissa’s sixteenth birthday there came the news that Aaron had climbed the mountain and had been killed by the Turfan. That night after her father was asleep Narcissa slipped out dressed as a man she wore a black cloak, with the hood pulled up to cover her face. Narcissa climb the mountain with only a sword as her weapon. At midnight Narcissa stumbled across the Turfan’s cave. She could hear the monster singing her beautiful song. Hate filled Narcissa’s chest as she peered around the corner of the cave. She could see the monster leaning over the body of Aaron. Enough was enough, Narcissa steeped into the cave. Turfan looked up at the sound of movement. An evil grin spread across her face. She had long heard the story of this boy who would kill her. She lunged for the boy. Narcissa jumped out of the way not a moment to soon. The Turfan had landed right where she had just been stood. The Turfan circled the boy and began to sing her beautiful song. Narcissa stood waiting for Turfan to attack again. The Turfan lunged again and again Narcissa jumped out of the way. Turfan stared why hadn’t her song worked on this boy. She lunged again, but this time Narcissa wasn’t so lucky. The Turfan’s claws had sliced her shirt in two, before she could avoid the attack.

“So,” the Turfan's voice was cold and sounded like a snakes hiss. “You are a girl. Tell me child how will your father feel once I have killed you? Will he hunt me down? I do hope so I love the way God’s blood taste.”

“What are you talking about? My father lives in Argos.”

“What of your,” she paused there. “It can’t be only one goddess may set foot in Argos.”

“What are you talking about?” Narcissa demanded.

“What of your mother, girl?”

“Dead. She died when I was born.”

“Oh how sad. No matter. I am still going to kill you.”

Turfan lunged once more and this time her aim was true. As she sunk her claws into Narcissa’s heart, Narcissa trust the sword into the Turfan’s cold stone heart. Turfan gave a scream of pain and then turned to stone and broke into a million pieces. Narcissa smiled, her eyes seemed to glow more then they ever had before, and then Narcissa was gone forever.

Hera stood watching the city of Argos. It was almost dusk and Narcissa had been missing all day, where on Earth was she. Hera watched as Apollo, the sun god drove his chariot across the sky, and Artemis the moon goddess rose into the sky. Hera sighed she could hear the people of Argos calling Narcissa’s name from the dark. Then all the voices stopped and there wasn’t a sound to be heard. All the people of Argos where staring up at the mountain Mussolini pointing at something in the sky. Hera leaned over to see what the people were staring at. She froze for in the sky at the mountain's peek there was a single light that glowed white in the light from the full moon. As Hera watched the sky more of theses strange lights began to appear in the sky, but none were as big or as bright as the first light. Hera turned on her heel and ran to see the Oracle.

“What’s going on? What are those lights in the sky? Where’s Narcissa?” Hera demeaned.

“They are called stars my lady Queen. The largest star is the soul of the hero who killed the Turfan. The smaller starts are the souls of all those lost to the Turfan.” The first Oracle said.

“Six teen years has come to pass. The hero has risen. Half goddess half mortal. She carried a blade of both mother and father in her hand. She killed the monster Turfan, and set the havens a light, with all the souls lost to the Turfan. She lost her life in the fight. Her soul is the brightest light in all the havens. Her soul will mark the way to the Gods for all of time, and she herself is now the goddess of the starts.” The second Oracle said.

“Not born of a mortal, but of a goddess. She is your daughter, Narcissa, my lady Queen.” The third Oracle said.

“The time has come and pasted. The hero has come and gone. And in going has become a light that shale guide those of the sea and of the land. On the darkest night, and shale light the havens when Artemis the moon dose not.” The Oracle’s voices echoed throughout all of Greece and all heared as this was said.