Another spring had passed.
The sky was tinged with the hues of dawn, and a moist, warm breeze blew across the earth. Mornings after rain were always intoxicating, but Pandora, who had just awoken, was not in the least bit uplifted in spirit.
Yesterday, she had seen off yet another goddess who had come to flaunt her treasures. This time, the visitor had brought a string of pearls, said to be jewels nurtured by the surviving shellfish of a previous epoch in the depths of the sea.
Thalia had meticulously recounted the origins of these shellfish: they were born in the Golden Age, absorbing the essence of ocean water and starlight from above, and it took hundreds of years for a single pearl to form.
Though not a single mocking word was spoken, the insinuation could not have been clearer. Pandora couldn't understand why there were such tedious deities in the world.
