There was a time, many, many years ago, when the inhabitants of the land believed that there were a great number of gods and goddesses. These gods had control over many different aspects of life on earth. In many ways they were very human. They could be kind or mean, angry or pleasant, cruel or loving. They fell in love with each other, argued with each other, and even stole from each other.

Zeus was king of the gods. He had won the draw and became the supreme ruler of all of the lesser gods. He, himself, was the god of the sky, rain, and thunder and he lived high atop Mount Olympus. His weapon was a thunderbolt, which he hurled at those who displeased him. He ruled over both man and the gods. He was worshipped and idolized.

But time marches on and even the all powerful Zeus could not stop the winds of change. Humans began to question the whole idea of many gods who possessed both supernatural and human attributes. They sought to simplify their beliefs by embracing a single, supernatural deity, one that was omnipresent, omnipotent, and omniscient. One that was free of human traits and frailties, who was apart from and above the fray.

Zeus and all of his lesser gods were ignobly cast aside, as the people flocked to the one God, invisible, unknown, and unknowable. Zeus and his gods became lost in time and in place, no longer held in esteem, no longer worshipped, no longer feared. And worst of all, no longer seen.

Banished into the wilderness and unrecognizable to their former human subjects, the gods appeared to be ancient giant redwoods, wide and flowing rivers, vast deserts, and majestic mountains.

Zeus, himself, was banished to a frozen wasteland, and to those who braved the wintry elements and hiked near him, they could only see a huge, craggy mountain, unable to discern the frozen tears and the true visage of the once great and powerful king of the gods.

Written for Diana’s, at Myth in the Mirror, January’s Writing Prompt, part of her Speculative Fiction Writing Prompt.