"Morning already?" he thought with a bit of resentment. He was just having the most wonderful dream. He was riding on a fire-breathing griffin plundering entire peasant camps and listening to their wonderful screams of shock and horror. A group of able-bodied men took up swords, spears, and tridents and were beginning to band together to put up some kind of resistance. Belus was chilled with delight. A plundering AND a good whomping? How could a superbeing be so lucky?
It was at this time that the phoenix startled him from his supernatural slumber. Our alarm clocks have a depressing way of always waking us right before the good parts.
By the time Belus finally coaxed himself out of bed, the phoenix ashes were already beginning to form an egg. This egg will hatch around ten o'clock right on schedule, and the tiny chick that emerges will become a fully grown magnificent bird around teatime.
Belus stumbled into his marble bathroom. His head was pulsating and hazy, which made recalling the night before rather difficult. As he "relieved" himself, he made a mental note: Do not invite Bacchus over on days before the Cake-Club. He hadn't started baking yet.
Belus, having long been forgotten by the humans on earth, often found himself with a lot of free time. This kind of freedom often allows one's self to enjoy hobbies and socializing. However, since the closest Belus got to a hobby was leading blood-thirsty troops into battle and his idea of socializing is torturing a spy to his breaking point, his retirement was a difficult transition.
Cake-Club was one of the groups for retired gods and goddesses that he had genuine interest in. He joined it because truth be told, he loved cake. Simple as that. His good friend Maat had suggested he join the club a few months ago after he complimented her fine pastry cooking at a mixer on mount olympus. Maat made a glorious organic wheat and chickpea desert (her own secret recipe) and often shared it with the group. If a mortal were to take one bite of this savory morsel, his or her head would explode in pure unadulterated rapture, which is probably not a bad way to go...
Belus shuffled his feet out of the bathroom and headed for the kitchen to see what ingredients he had for his cake. Today was his week to bring in a cake at Cake-Club, and they made sure to drive this point home to him last week. Diana (who ironically makes a mouth-melting devil's food cake) noticed that although he comes every week most enthusiastically, Belus was yet to contribute a single dessert. There was no way he was going to show up again empty handed.
On the way to the kitchen, Belus walked through his dark parlor room. With two thunderous CLAPS of his hands, all of the curtains opened and the ceiling's great dome opened filling the room with the bright morning sky.
"Uuuuggghhhgnnnghhhhh what the..." said a gruff and befuddled voice from behind the couch. Startled, Belus looked over to discover Bacchus passed out behind the couch next to several empty bottles of wine and rum. His cloven hooves pressed into the ground as he slowly stood up and looked at Belus through squinty, tired eyes.
"Where did the nymphs go?" he asked and looked around the room. Belus, confused asked,"What nymphs?" He remembered all of last night, despite all of the rum, wine, and music, but did not recall any nymphs in his home. He walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. No eggs. Great.
Bacchus sat on the couch in the room and looked up at the gaudy dome with resentment. "Of course there were nymphs... Oh wait! That was after you went to bed," he said.
Belus never ceases to be amazed at Bacchus's epic partying skills. "Oh," he said as he stared at the spot in the fridge where the egg carton should be. "We're going," Belus said as he slammed the door to the fridge.
"Going?" said Bacchus. He groaned, stretched, and then scratched his furry legs. "You're buying breakfast though." "Deal," said Belus who also realized he was starving. "Just remind me that I need to pick up eggs at the store, Ok?" he said as they both headed for the front door. In actuality Belus didn't need reminding to pick up eggs, he only told Bacchus because he knows how Bacchus can get carried away and sidetracked on a whim. He can sometimes be like a happy dog on a walk that often sniffs invisible trails away from the sidewalk.
Gone were the days when Belus inspired legions of men giving them strength as they crushed their foes. Gone were the times when soldiers prayed to him at night, pleading for the will to strike down their enemies without hesitation. Gone, with the ever changing and fickle way humans on earth worshiped one diety or another. Long gone. A quest, no matter how small, gave Belus purpose and meaning. His eyes filled with fire, a fire that did not come around very often, but when it did it was most welcome.
Time to get some fucking eggs.
