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Many centuries ago…

Themyscira, the now secret sanctuary of the Amazons, sat in the middle of the Aegean Sea. Hidden among the dense fogs and magic granted by the gods the island paradise was now free from the influence and horrors of “man’s world”. Near a month had passed and already the great female warriors, scholars and so forth enjoyed their newfound home.

Not all however found solace in paradise as even now Hippolyta, the Queen of the Amazons, strode along the shores of the island. Barefoot and dagger in hand the wise but tired queen had felt as though she walked for hours. From her palace to these calm, relaxing shores she’d walked with but a single intent: to finally have the child she’d lost.

While many of the Amazons had grown content with their new lives on Themyscira there were some like Hippolyta herself who were plagued by the dark memories of their trials with the rest of the world. She was still plagued by the wars, the chaos, the torture, the suffering. Everything she and her sisters had to endure before Hera, the Queen of the Gods of Olympus, had finally granted them all salvation. But this had all been a small comfort as Hippolyta endured the greatest tragedy the gods could curse her with: watching her own son slay her people in the name of Zeus.

Hippolytus, the son of Hippolyta and the Greek hero of Athens Theseus, had arrived with the demigod Hercules, his distant cousin, to achieve the hero’s ninth labor of taking Hippolyta’s golden belt; a gift from her mother and symbol of her authority as queen. Under the guise of a prodigal son looking to see him long, forgotten mother Hippolytus deluded the Queen of the Amazons which helped Hercules to eventually subdue and capture Hippolyta in the hopes of fulfilling his quest and showing his dominance over the “savage female tribe”. The Amazons, discovering the fate of their queen managed to stop Hercules and Hippolytus from taking her away from their home but not before the son of Zeus succeeded in taking her golden belt. As Hercules fled on his ship Hippolytus stayed behind, willing to sacrifice himself in the name of Zeus if it meant taking as many of the Amazonian warriors with him.

Brave as her son was Hippolyta witnessed with horror in her eyes as her own flesh and blood struck down her sisters. What came next was not only Hippolyta’s act of retribution but justice as well. She drove her blade into his back and slit his throat, forced to endure the feeling of blood soaked hands after killing her own child.

Not the seclusion of paradise, the safety of her sisters, or all the gifts of Gia herself could ride Hippolyta of the memories that plagued her mind. But now with the grace of Hera on her side the queen had hoped that the gods would grant her one final gift. A child of the Amazons. A daughter.

Her heart and mind finally set Hippolyta fell to her knees and began to dig into the black sands of Themyscira’s shore. She dug and carved the wet material until it became like mud and clay. With her hands, the hands of a queen and a mother, she began to sculpt. After what seemed like hours had passed finally Hippolyta held her creation, a clay figure of the daughter she prayed for.

Holding the child of clay towards the sky she prayed softly “Gia, mother of the Earth, and Hera, Queen of the heavens, grant me this one and only gift I ever ask upon you. Let this child of clay be as flesh and blood. Let her breathe life granted by your graces. Let her join her sisters and be as daughter to Themyscira as we are daughters to the Earth.” Taking the dagger and making a small cut across her thumb she pressed the forehead of the clay child and finished with “May this humble sacrifice be my offering upon your graces fit. Let her be born so that she may be true.”

The nearby clouds seemed to rumble as storm clouds brewed on the horizon. Hippolyta, as if already knowing the powers behind this phenomenon, bowed her head while keeping the child aloft in her hands awaited the one gift her heart truly desired. The sky grew darker and more thunder roared in the distance. Cracks of lightning flashed out in the sea but Hippolyta was as the stones on the shores of the island itself, immobile and stern against the tide.

The final roars of thunder finally called out, coming closer and closer until…. Nothing.

Confused Hippolyta saw that the child did not move. No breathing. No wailing of birth. Not even a whimper of life. The queen still held in her hands nothing more than clay.

“My queen?” someone called from nearby. Artemis, the most skilled warrior among the Amazons, came upon her queen despite her not responding and said “Mt queen? What are you doing out here?”

“They…they did not answer me, Artemis.” Hippolyta finally said in a defeated tone.

“What do you mean?” she asked, taking a sheet and wrapping it around Hippolyta. “Who did not answer?” Her eyes soon beheld the clay child in her queen’s hands and asked “My queen…is that…?”

Without a word Hippolyta stood, now a more cold yet determined look upon her face. She took the sheet from her shoulders and wrapped the clay figure in it instead. She turned and began to walk back towards the city within the island.

As Artemis called to her Hippolyta only answered with “I have to go.”

“Go? Where?”

“The only place I will find the answers.”

With every step of purpose she took Hippolyta hastened towards the lair of the oracle. Never stopping or slowing the queen’s subtle fury was the power that drove her onward. Artemis, confused, continued to follow her queen in the hopes that answers would be enlightened upon her as well as to what Hippolyta had planned.

Upon reaching the steps that lead to the Oracle’s lair Hippolyta glanced to her faithful companion and ordered “Wait here.”

Silently Artemis obeyed and watched as her queen ascended up the stairs towards the mouth of a small cave. Hippolyta herself felt every step she took with a heavier toll. The great climb did not falter her. Nothing would. She would gamble her own life if it were necessary as long as she knew why the gods seemed to have forsaken her.

The entrance of the cave was dimly lit, a single torch for those who entered awaiting at the mouth. Hippolyta took the torch from its holder, making sure not to hold it anywhere near the clay child still in her arms, and entered. Each step she now took was with caution and patience. The ways of the oracle were as those of the gods, always a mystery. Always part of some grander game they played with mortals like pieces on a board. It did not take long for Hippolyta to finally see light brewing further inside.

Finally reaching the chamber of the oracle herself Hippolyta looked around at the secluded home of the all-seeing prophetess. Many torches and candles were set around the open, circular room, giving a better illumination than the queen’s single torch could ever give. A large stone table sat between a bench, on the entrance’s side, and a raised throne-like seat where the oracles herself stood with her back to Hippolyta. On the opposite side of the room’s entrance were several carved statues, each a representation of many within the Greek Pantheon. All were female however, from the queen Hera herself to Aphrodite, Demeter, Athena, Artemis and Hestia.

The oracle herself had her back turned to the entrance and Hippolyta. She was the oldest among the amazons and seemed to hide it well. Her body was covered in elegant but thick robes and her head was shrouded by a hood. What hair stuck from the sides was worn and grey with a hint of the once glorious brunette shades it once carried.

Not turning towards hers the oracle simply said “Welcome, Queen Hippolyta. What brings your presence before this humble servant of the gods?”

“Do not play the fool to me, Pythia. You know why I’ve come. Or have the gods afflicted those all seeing eyes of yours while they continuing to spurn me?”

Pythia barley turned and retorted “You would be wise not to judge the actions of the gods so easily, Amazonian. Least they cast their judging eyes upon you.” After a tenuous moment of silence Pythia indicated for Hippolyta to take a seat, awaiting until she did before finally turning to face her; now only her withered cheek and more strands of her grey hair visible. “You sough the gods to grant you what no other among your sisters can bare. Yet after all the lives saved by creating this paradise do you think they can offer another?”

“I only ask for that which was taken from me.” She responded.

“Taken by your own hand.” Pythia retorted. “I know your past well, daughter of Otrere. The blood of your own spilt by you. Not the gods. Not one of your sisters. Not even by the hands of death itself. Only you.”

A deep, regretful sigh escaped Hippolyta before she said “Hippolytus was my son… but he chose to spill Amazon blood in the name of Zeus. And his son, Hercules. All without hesitation or regret. He used my own love against me. He may have shared my blood but he was never truly my child.”

“But he was also the child of Theseus. King of Athens and child of Poseidon himself. Would you truly ask for a life born anew in the wake of such a crime against the king of the seas?”

“What of the crime of my people?” Hippolyta spat. “Blood for blood. A life for a life. Justice befitting justice. Is this not the way of the gods?” Another silent moment of tension between the two had passed before Hippolyta demanded and yet near begged “Let me speak with them, Pythia. I need to know why they will not answer me.”

The oracle remained still and silent for but a moment before reaching up to remove the hood that covered her head. As it fell to her shoulders Hippolyta could now see the old seer fully. As expected the rest of her face was as wrinkled and aged as the rest of her. The once gorgeous mane of brown hair now sunken and grey with age. Her more bizarre feature, one that always unsettled Hippolyta, was the absence of her eyes. Always covered by a thick cloth of blue her apparent all-seeing eyes remained hidden to all but the gods themselves.

Upon revealing her face Pythia replied “We shall see.” before beginning her ritual to invoke an audience with the gods.

The oracle walked to one end of the room, neither stumbling nor reaching out despite not being able to see. Whatever divine sight that guided her through life continued to do so as she took a handful of what Hippolyta believed to be molly weed and brought it before a pyre. A fire was lite and the pyre, now brought before Pythia’s seat, began to smoke and fume.

Hippolyta watched with silent curiosity and growing impatience as the oracle began to pray in an ancient tongue not known by many. Whatever was being said Hippolyta did not care as long as it helped her speak with the gods themselves.

Finally, as she began to finish, Pythia took her seat on her small, elevated throne. Her hands were raised in the air as she finally invoked the gods come to them. All went quiet and for a moment Hippolyta believed that yet again the gods would ignore her but then answer came when a light emitted from the statues of the gods themselves.

While the oracle remained still and quiet Hippolyta held her clay child closer in her arms while watching the carved statues suddenly breathe life of their own. The slight but powerful light that surrounded them brought their eyes to open and their mouths to move. This was how the gods would commune with the Queen of the Amazons.

“Hippolyta.” The figure of Hera herself spoke. “You judge the will of the gods too blindly. We have heard your prays as we’ve kept vigil over you and rest of your sister Amazons.”

Angered at this she asked in similar tone “Then why have you not answered them? Why haven’t you granted me the child I deserve?”

The figure of Athena then answered “The gods can offer many gifts to mortals. But the gift of life is not one so easily received.”

Aphrodite’s figure then added “As a chosen of Hera, Queen of Olympus, we can grant your child many of these gifts. Beauty. Strength. Wisdom. Kindness. And even the gift of speed equal to Hermes himself.”

“But all of this is granted to one of true flesh and blood.” Demeter’s figure said. “Not to clay and mud.”

Hippolyta, still cradling the child she crafted, held back tears brimming in her eyes. Her answers had come but they were less than what she’d hoped for. While the ideas had lingered in her mind hearing the voices of the gods themselves had brought the truth to light, wounding her even more. But she refused to surrender now.

Placing the child upon the stone table before her Hippolyta stood and said “Look at her. Look upon my daughter. She may not be as a child of mortals but ever shape she has, ever feature she has been bestowed is by my hand. My sweat. My blood. My love. And like the mother Gia herself I have given and will continue to give all to bring her to life. Please, in your divine wisdom, give me a better answer. Please. I beg upon you as any humble servant. Not queen but peasant. Not warrior but mother. I beg you.”

There was no answer. Not right away. The goddesses that protected Themyscira were silent as the stones through which they spoke. Hippolyta had dropped to her knees at this point, showing all signs of humility if it meant allowing her one desire granted.

“There is but one who can grant you your heart’s desire.” Hera finally answered, bringing a spark of hope into Hippolyta’s eyes. “Only one who can bring life to that which has none. But it may yet come at a price.”

“Anything.” She replied.

With that answer Hera said “Then return to the beach from which your child was crafted. Your answer will await you there. We have spoken.”

With that the lights around the statues began to dim. The life that possessed them faded as well. They became as lifeless as before. Hippolyta watched until all went quiet again, Pythia dropping her arms after seeming to come out of a trance-like state. Now knowing where to go next Hippolyta carefully picked up her clay child and turned for the exit.

“Be warned, Queen Hippolyta.” The oracle spoke up before she left, stopping her in her tracks. “The price you pay may yet be too much. Even for you.”

Hippolyta’s glance to the old seer was cold but acknowledging. In her mind she was aware of the risk but in her heart she would endure it. She exited Pythia’s lair, leaving the seer to silently brew as she made her way back to the beaches of Themyscira.

She descended the stairs, finding the loyal Artemis awaiting her. She did not speak to her, only continuing back to the beach with great haste. The sky was starting to grow dark with night and storm brewing yet again on the horizon. Rain was sure to come again this time and perhaps, if the fates were kind, life anew.

As she returned towards the shore Artemis, finally fed up with the secrecy, stopped Hippolyta and asked “My queen, please, tell me what’s going on? Why do you have that….thing in your arms?”

“I have no time to explain, Artemis. You must trust me and get out of my way!”

“My queen, I only-”

“Do as I say!” Hippolyta demanded loudly, startling the warrior before her.

While still concerned Artemis had no choice but to stand aside as her queen commanded. Without hesitation Hippolyta hurried past her and made back for the shores. But as she walked far enough away Artemis needed to know what great and secret task her queen was undertaking. Quietly and from a distance a hunter like herself would know to keep she followed.

After returning to the shore Hippolyta found it empty as when she’d last left. The seas still crashed against sand and stone and the air was still salted yet there was no sign of whoever it was who could bring life to Hippolyta’s child.

A moment later there came a great crash of lightning in the distance. It startled the queen as she knew the storm that would follow it would be here soon. And yet as it settled she felt something. A presence. She was not alone.

Hippolyta turned to see who it was. The one whom Hera and the other goddesses had told could bring life to the child of clay. He stood tall and bold to exuberate his power. His robes were white yet regal with hems of gold. Around his waist a golden belt with the sigil of an eagle. In his hand a scepter that signified his power. And upon his head, resting atop his brow, a crown that signified his title and authority. His eyes were a pure, powerful shade of blue and white. This was Zeus, King of Olympus.

“You!?!” Hippolyta stated in both shock and awe.

“Yes, Hippolyta. Hera has told me all that has transpired. Even within this sanctuary she and my daughters have granted the Amazons, even all their powers cannot hide you from my sight.”

“No… No…” Hippolyta backed away. “This isn’t what I wanted. Not you! Not a child by your blood!”

With a poisonous tone Zeus replied “Do not take this offer lightly, child! My charity is only as far as I permit it.” He calmed slightly before saying “Besides I do not wish this child born as my sons of the past have been. Hera had made me vow that none of your tribe would ever be touched by my or any other god’s hands unless so wished.”

“Then why agree to this? What would Zeus, whose own son I tried to kill, grant me this gift?”

As he answered Zeus walked close to the shore, looking out to the open ocean, and answered “Mortals are not the only ones governed by destiny, Hippolyta. Upon hearing your earlier prayers I sought the Fates to tell me of this child you asked for. Their all seeing eyes told me of the future.”

“Of…my daughter?”

He turned and replied “Yes. They saw her. Spoke of her. The sisters told me of a great warrior born from Themyscira itself. She would be one of the greatest champions this world would ever witness. Ushering in an age of great change in the course of history itself. But there was more…” He took a step closer to her and continued “In her future they also witnessed horror. Destruction. Many upon battles of friendship and betrayal. And throughout all of it your daughter was at its epicenter. I’ve no reason to have ever doubted the Sisters of Fate, Hippolyta. I believe that indeed your daughter is to bring about great change. Which is why I see fit to grant her life. For as you will be mother to her, she will be to me as daughter.”

Hippolyta was near aghast by this proposal. She felt her heart drop and her blood run cold. Even in the distance as she watched Artemis was beguiled by the scene that played out before her.

“You? Her…her father?” Hippolyta repeated. “But why?”

“For the same reason I have sired all the children of my name into this world. Beyond these shores the world changes.” He pointed to the horizon with his staff and continued “In time the people of the world may forget us. Cast us into myth and legend as the Old Gods. But your daughter may yet change that.” Turning to her he added “As my daughter she will be powerful, and by my graces she will have the other gifts granted by my children. But the time will come, Hippolyta, when your daughter will be called to serve my will. And when that day comes you must not resist. Your daughter will serve her father as do all the children of Zeus.”

Hearing this offer Hippolyta went silent. She was conflicted to say the least, torn between the will of Zeus and the life of her daughter. If indeed she was to be this great warrior as the Fates decreed then perhaps history was to indeed to change. But with Zeus’ power over her would it be for better or worse?

The queen’s eyes looked down upon her still lifeless child. A chance like this may yet never come again. She thought back to Hippolytus and the life she’d taken from him. If in denying Zeus’ offer would it not be the same for her daughter even now?

“Very well…” Hippolyta reluctantly replied. “I accept.”

A small smile flashed across the King of Olympus’ face. With her word they’d reached the accord of the gods. He approached Hippolyta and reached out, placing his hand gently upon the forehead of the clay child in her arms.

“Hear me now, child of Themyscira! For these gifts I grant to you.” He began. “The beauty of Aphrodite. The wisdom and courage of Athena. The speed and flight of Hermes. The skills of Artemis. The strength of Demeter. And the heart of Hestia.” He raised his scepter in the air and decreed “By the blood of Hippolyta, by the fires of Olympus itself, I grant you life!”

Thunder roared and lightning cracked. The winds howled and Hippolyta could only keep her eyes focused upon her daughter. The feeling of Zeus’ words seemed to give life to the shape within her hands. Power coursed and beat within. As everything seemed to subside Zeus stepped away as Hippolyta seemed confused.

“It is done.” He stated. “All that is left is a name. I’m sure you’ve decided on one.”

“I have.” She replied.

“Then go. Show your daughter to her people. Let them know that Olympus still watches over them. And Hippolyta.” For a brief moment Zeus almost seemed tender as he ended with “Raise our daughter well.”

This moment, brief as it was, ended when Zeus struck his scepter against the sands and disappeared with a great flash of lightning. It blinded Hippolyta for a moment before sight was regained, only for her eyes to behold the gift finally granted by the grace of Olympus.

Mud and clay began to melt away with the fall of rain. Underneath revealed soft, pink skin. Small strands of black hair, like her mother’s, upon her head. The remains of her clay cocoon dripped away from the sheets and at last the cry of life escaped her lips. The child was alive.

Despite knowing the promise she’d made to Zeus, despite the destiny that was foretold, despite the trials she endured to come this far Hippolyta’s heart was filled joy. Her eyes brimmed with tears of happiness as she felt her child wriggling under the sheet, crying out for the first time.

Artemis, astounded by what she’d witnessed, did not know what to do with herself. After seeing all that transpired between her queen and the King of Olympus she was beside herself. Her queen, the woman she would follow into Tartarus itself, had made a pact with Zeus all for the risk of having a daughter. While holding the gods in favor she did not have as much for the father of Hercules, the man responsible for so many of her sister’s deaths.

After seeing Hippolyta start to make back for the city Artemis hurried back to beat her to the spot. For now she would play dumb and see what her queen would do. She managed this and waited until Hippolyta returned.

“Are you…alright, my queen?” she asked, playing none-the-wiser.

“More than that, Artemis.” She smiled, covering the child in rags before her. “Come. We must announce this to our sisters.”

Quietly as ordered she followed Hippolyta towards the nearby temple where some of the Amazons were waiting out the storm. Once they’d entered all eyes within turned to see the two, especially Hippolyta with the surprise she had in store for them all.

One of the younger girls, Alexia, watched as her queen came to the center of the room and asked “My queen? What is it?”

Artemis remained at the entrance, watching and listening as Hippolyta declared “The gods have answered our prayers! By the grace of Hera, mother Gia, and daughters of Olympus itself, I give you our child!” She held up her now fully born daughter, who cried up to the heavens, while proclaiming “I give you Princess Diana! Daughter of Themyscira!”

Upon seeing the baby all of the Amazons looked with awe and humble delight. Some could not believe their eyes. Some fell to their knees, giving silent praise to the gods for this blessing. Others could not help but reach out, wanting to know what they were seeing was real.

“Gods…it’s alive.”

“Praise to Hera!”

“That sound…that crying…”

“I’d almost forgotten…”

So many of the Amazons reached up, touching with their own fingers the first and true daughter of Themyscira itself. Born from the love of Hippolyta and the very earth which was blessed to them by Hera herself the Amazons had felt a great comfort and a great joy in this, a gift from the gods themselves.

But as she watched her sisters take in the great bestowal she was perplexed in her heart. Hippolyta had told the truth about the newborn Diana being a gift from the gods but she’d failed to say which god exactly. Knowing the truth had made Artemis’ heart a little more soured by her queen’s deception yet perhaps, as she thought, it may have been for the better. Perhaps this child was more than just an offering from Zeus but a true sign of the god’s protection and love in days to come. Being immortal, only granted death in combat and being left to continuing living their long lives upon this island would not sit well with all of her sisters. But now with Diana present perhaps it would give them solace.

For now Artemis would remain quiet and allow her new princess to be raised among her sisters. In time, like all truths, her true heritage would be known. And perhaps when that time came the fortune of the Sisters of Fate would come to pass. For everyone, even Olympus itself, now knew that Princess Diana of Themyscira had a great destiny before her.

*****

Within the kingdom on Mount Olympus itself Zeus had returned from his endeavor on Theymscira. A great bold of lightning had carried the king of the gods back from the mortal world into the heavenly home he ruled. With its grand design and show of power Olympus was always a welcomed sight for its king whenever he traveled.

Only after barley entering his domain Zeus heard the call of “Father!” turning to see his favorite son, Hercules himself, approach. “I saw what happened on Themyscira.” He confronted his godly father without hesitation. “How could you grant that witch a child? And through your powers no less?”

“Hold your tongue, Hercules!” Zeus beamed. “You may be my favorite son, and you may have earned your right to live among us, but that does not grant you power over me nor my actions.”

Zeus merely walked past his enraged son before Hercules followed and said “That child is destine to bring about great destruction, father. What if it is your own that the Fates have seen?”

Not stopping to answer Zeus merely answered “What destiny has in store for her, indeed for all of us, will remain to be seen. But for now the child will live and grow and be trained by the Amazons. In that time we will watch as the rest of the world changes. And perhaps her preordained ventures will bring the change the world truly needs.”

Eventually the two entered into Zeus’ throne room. The large, open, grand chamber where the King of Olympus sat and observed all that transpired in the world; and even beyond in some cases. There were other seats within the room as well, each for the other gods who ruled upon the pantheon, but the greatest and highest of seats was left for Zeus himself.

Upon taking his seat Zeus turned as Hercules still spoke to him with anger in his voice, saying “If you fear the mortals turning away from you then send me back to Earth! I will continue task after task as you set me on before if it means ensuring Olympus’ power.”

“I cannot change the nature of mortals, Hercules. Any more than you or other children of mine give life as I have this day. I have no doubt the mortals will soon find others to pray to. In time we may pass beyond into mere myth. But there will indeed come a day where even the mortals of Earth will see that all myths have their truths. Perhaps on that day we shall finally return.”

“And the Amazonian?” Hercules asked. “What of Diana? You think she will be the one?”

“Time will tell, my son.” Zeus off-handedly replied. “Until then I suggest you prepare yourself.”

Without any further use from his father Hercules begrudgingly bowed before exiting the chamber. Zeus, with his all-powerful eyes, watched the demigod leave him in peace. With that Zeus would continue to watch over the Earth as well as his new immortal daughter Diana. His plans for her would eventually come and on that day, truly, he would see what the Fates had in store for all of Olympus.

In his total satisfaction of all that happened Zeus did not see that Hercules was not the only one to watch what had transpired on Themyscira. Nearby, after following him upon his return and his engagement with Hercules, Hera herself kept a close ear to what the two spoke of. She knew her husband all too well to know whatever he had in store for the princess of the Amazons it would be only for his benefit and no others. This was something she could not allow. Not at the risk of her own chosen people. While Zeus made his plans Hera, with a growing smirk on her face, devised her own.

And as sure as the sun would set and rise the days would turn to weeks. The weeks would become months. Months into decades that became one age after another. While the world of men would forever change Themyscira and its people would remain preserved in immortal harmony. But time would soon slow and the day would come when a traveler from “man’s world” would make the most wondrous discovery of all.