Once upon a time, in a land where gods ruled directly over men, there lived a boy named Archus. Archus, when young, displayed a talent for archery. When he received his first bow, he immediately pulled the bow back and let loose an arrow that slammed into a bird’s nest. His parents quickly sent him to training for the Olympics. He won the contest easily- and he was the youngest contender there.
When Archus was 15, he (like many teenage boys-pay attention, you people!) had developed an inflated view of himself. He strutted everywhere, boasting that he was as good at archery as Artemis was. “Better, even,” he said with pride.
“That pride will cause his downfall,” his mother whispered to his father.
His father whispered back, “The ungrateful brat deserves it.”
People came from everywhere to see the boy that could shoot, for example, an olive at the far end of the orchard from the roof of his house. His parents charged admission, figuring that there was no point letting money flow by unused.
One day, a group of traveling actors came to see the boy’s act. Archus looked with derision at the group’s cook, a woman that would have looked beautiful if only she did not have a dark birthmark on the left side of her face. “Did your mother spill wine on your face?” Archus taunted.
The woman snorted. “I believe it’s none of your business. And stop bragging about your archery skill.”
“It is too my business! I’m already bringing in chests of gold from admission fees.”
“Gold will not make up for boasting before the gods,” the woman answered sharply. “It is not your time or place to brag.”
“Is too! Artemis, bring it on!” Archus countered.
“You will regret this,” she muttered under her breath, then took a deep breath and transformed into the goddess herself.
“What a…” Archus’ insult petered out into a low moan.
“You said ‘bring it on,’ and I will, of course, bring it on,” Artemis answered.
Archus was left speechless. Artemis continued, “But I believe it is my right to pick the target. I pick… that cloud over there.” She then stretched a hand upward and plucked a golden bow and quiver from the sky. The cloud she’d pointed to shifted and became a target.
“Of course, since you challenged me, it is also your right to go first,” Artemis then shouted to Archus, who had jumped off the roof to try to get a better shot.
“But…” Archus could not say that he had not meant for this to happen, for he had, after all, meant for this to happen.
Artemis then retorted, “Fine. I’ll go first.” She drew an arrow from her quiver, and then carefully fitted the arrow onto the string. Then she pulled the string to her ear, kneeled and pointed the arrow, and then let it loose. The arrow, flying straight and true, flew upward until it looked like a golden flash of light, which then embedded itself into the center of the cloud she’d selected. A shout erupted from the cloud. “Your turn,” she yelled loftily.
“Fine,” Archus answered. He likewise drew an arrow from his quiver, fitted the arrow onto the string, and drew the string. But when he let loose his arrow, it flew upwards twenty feet, then stopped and came hurtling back down. Archus feared for his life, as he thought for a moment that it would hit his head. Artemis deflected the arrow, which then buried itself in the dirt barely 6 inches away from Archus.
“I…” Archus was speechless. He was afraid of divine punishment, but there was little point in protesting.
Artemis plucked a bottle of belladonna from the air as she had picked up her quiver earlier. She took this bottle, as well as some glue, mixed the two liquids, and poured the resulting mixture over Archus. Archus began shrinking until he had become the size and shape of a raccoon. But Artemis was not finished. Using more glue, she glued all his arrows to his skin, so he would wear his own arrows eternally.
The porcupine that was Archus quickly scampered into the underbrush. Artemis snickered. He would be very uncomfortable. ;-)
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