Hey there, storyblogger77, and I have written my first story. This is technically a myth, but whatever. If you notice by the title, this myth will include a character named Iris. Iris is the goddess of the rainbow. I really love Greek mythology, so I wrote my own myth. Tell me what you think!
One day, Iris was delivering a message to Athena from Hera, and she stumbled upon something interesting. It was a note on blotchy tan papyrus written in thick black ink, sitting upon the doorstep of her house. With her delicate hands, she picked up the note and began to read it. It said:
“Dear Iris,
My name is Azarias. I have always been struck by your wondrous beauty, but was too afraid to admit it until now. I hope you will love me back. I do understand if you do not. Sorry if this is in any way an inconvenience for you.
Sincerely,
Azarias”
Iris thought that the note Azarias had left her was so sweet, and decided to write him a letter. Iris took out a piece of papyrus to write him a letter, disregarding her message that she should have taken to Athena. Then a thought came upon her. She did not know the location of which the letter was sent from. Instead of writing him a letter, Iris decided to find the boy, and talk to him herself. Iris formed her body into the shape of an eagle, and flew to Athens.
When Iris arrived at the town, she found herself in a giant mess, not a city. There were parts of buildings strewed across the ground, torn clothing spread all around, and worst of all, wounded people intricately laid around the town. Iris resumed her regular form, and approached one of the people upon the ground. She asked the man,
“What has happened here? Why is your beautiful town destroyed? Why has this horrible misfortune come upon you?”
“I am not quite sure what has happened,” said the man in a low whisper, “The soldiers from Sparta invaded our town, and destroyed everything. Before this, everything as peaceful and the skies were as clear as day. The next instant, a hoard of Spartans come bombarding into the town, destroying buildings, taking our belongs, and striping us of our work. Worst of all, taking the lives of innocent people. It was,” the man ends his sentence. He starts violently coughing, Iris leaving the man to wither away on the ground. She steps away from the man, being careful not to step on a fatal object of on a once healthy person.
After walking for what seemed like eternity, Iris came upon some houses that were not damaged. She could see people moving along, and heard them talking. She knocked upon the wooden door, waiting to see who would come out. After a long time of waiting, a man finally stepped out into the doorway.
“What do you want?” the man said in a deep growling voice. He was unshaven with a musky odor emanating from him. His clothes were ripped exposing dirt-ridden ugly skin that was crawling with rashes and pimples. His teeth were stained a bright yellow with a few black flecks here and there. His feet were putrid. His toes were covered in a green fungus. His toe nails were way over grown, with ragged edges. His presence made Iris step back.
“Klemes, what are you doing?” yelled a ratchet voice.
“Someone has disturbed us, and I am running the little weasel away from us!”
“Hurry up!”
“I will, I will!” the ogre-like man screeched. He stared at Iris, eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed.
“What do you want? You disturbed me and my wife, and I do not like it. Now you better speak or I will kick you off of my door-step. “ the man said, pointing his disgusting finger at Iris. He clenched his fists, and threw them to his side. His eyes narrowed even more, and he stepped forward.
“I would like to know if you recognize this writing, or maybe this name.” Iris said, holding up the note.
“So your name is Iris. I can’t believe that someone could live something so wretched as you. If you are looking for your lover, look next door. That looks like Myron wrote that. Now get away from me!” The man slammed the door and stormed back into his house. Iris slowly stepped back, and headed for the house next door. Iris knocked on the door. A lady opened it.
“Hello there, is there something of your interest that I may possess?” The lady said. She had dark, curly hair, and long eyelashes which she was frequent to bat. She wore an emerald green dress. She had long legs, and elegant arms. She smelled of pomegranate.
“Yes, actually. Do you know a Azarias, or anyone who has this hand-writing?”
“I think I do. Let me get him for you. Just, wait here for a moment.” The girl ran off back into her house, but quickly returned with a skinny boy. He had short blond hair, and was very short. He had a very chiseled face, and was quite attractive.
“This is Myron. I believe that he wrote that note to you um, Iris, right?”
“Yes, it’s you! I can’t believe I found you! Are you the one who wrote this note?” Iris showed the man the note, practically shoving it in his face.
“It was I, who wrote the note,” the man said, looking down, shamefully. Suddenly, Demeter approached.
“Persephone, Myron, who is this?” she asked, eyeing Iris.
“Mother, this is Iris.” said Persephone.
“Oh, and what is this note?” Demeter said, snatching the note away from Iris. Demeter read it, and handed it back to Iris.
“Myron, what is this foolery that you wrote?”
“It was a bet that Hades had made me. He told me that if I could not find a Laurel Wreath by the next full moon, which was last night, I would have to write to Iris, saying something crazy. I lost the bet, and wrote Iris the letter. I am sorry.” Myron said and ran back into the house.
“I am sorry about that, here, have this gift.” Demeter handed Iris a white box. Then Persephone shut the door, and Iris walked away.
When Iris returned home, she opened the box. It was full of 7 colors of light. They were red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Iris always carried these lights around with her, cheering up the people of Greece after a dark rain, by putting the lights in the sky. Though, it was not all fun and games for Iris. To punish her for not giving Athena her message, Hera made Iris her personal messenger.
I hope you enjoyed this myth! Good luck writers!
Your Friend,
storyblogger77
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