"And the curse, mother, what was it?"
"That the Gods, for whom 'til now time did not exist, would now - like other beings - age. Zeus laughed. Still, there are rumors, and I understand he laughs no more." She lowered her voice. "I'm told that, even now, he walks with a cane. Have you seen it? Can this be true?"
Demo ignored the questions. "Mother, how would I find Cronus?"
"My child, you do not find Cronus. He finds you. It is inevitable. It is from his touch that we pass from child to man or woman, from youth to middle age, from middle age to an elder estate. It is a process you would not desire to compress. No, search not for Cronus. He is not well met!"
Demo pondered her words, the story she had told. Fable, or fact? At one time he would have thought the former. Now he was completely unsure. His simple world had turned strange.
Demo began his trip, knowing not the way, knowing not the guise of him whom he sought. The fates were kind, and he found aid along the way.
"Earthling, attend me!"
The voice was soft, yet commanding.
He breathed deeply as he gazed upon her. The beauty of Athena, of Medusa, he had thought, could not be surpassed. He was wrong.
The diaphanous gown accentuated, rather than hid, the exquisite form of the maiden who addressed him. The face was beautiful not only in its own right, but in its every response to her thoughts. Now with a slight blush, now calm and serene, now smiling and happy - always with an innocence that beguiled and attracted.