A Storyteller’s Account from the Immortal Gazette Studio
The warm glow of enchanted lanterns flickered inside the Immortal Gazette studio, casting long shadows over the grand mahogany storytelling table. Loki leaned back in his chair, boots propped up, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Alice, ever the enigma, was absently flipping through a dusty tome labeled Mortal Myths & Their Foolish Retellings. Rumplestiltskin, scribbling feverishly onto parchment, paused only to dip his quill into a shimmering black ink that smelled faintly of mischief.
Alice sighed dramatically, setting the book down with a thud. “Alright, darlings, tonight we’re dissecting one of the greatest cons in mortal history—the so-called Trojan Horse.”
Loki grinned. “Ah yes, the giant wooden horse trick. Clever, but let’s be honest—it wasn’t just about mortals being outwitted.” He tapped his fingers together. “I believe a few of our kind had a hand in that little disaster.”
Rumplestiltskin chuckled, his golden eyes gleaming. “Oh, you mean how mortals think the Greeks came up with that idea all on their own?” He shook his head. “Adorable. Shall we tell them the real version?”
Alice leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Indeed. Gather round, little mortals, for this is not the tale you were taught in your history scrolls.”
The Gods’ Great Gamble
Before the Greeks and Trojans were even aware of their own fate, the immortals were already playing their games. You see, the Trojan War wasn’t just a mortal conflict. It was a bet—a wager between the gods and tricksters of 4EverMore.
It all began when Eris, the goddess of discord, tossed her infamous golden apple into a divine gathering, inscribed with the words To the Fairest. Naturally, this led to the goddesses Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite squabbling over who was most deserving of the title. But here’s what the history scrolls won’t tell you: Loki and Rumplestiltskin were watching from the shadows, laughing their immortal heads off.
“That’s when we saw the real opportunity,” Rumplestiltskin said with a wicked grin. “Wars are excellent playgrounds for tricksters. So, naturally, we nudged the right people, whispered the right words.”
Alice smirked. “A whisper in a king’s ear, a dream sent to a warrior, a vision to a seer… and suddenly, Helen was swept away, and war was inevitable.”
Loki nodded. “Fast forward a decade—Troy still stands. The Greeks are tired, the Trojans are arrogant, and the gods are getting bored. That’s when the real trick comes into play.”
The Horse Was Never Just a Horse
Here’s the truth: the Trojan Horse wasn’t just a hollow wooden structure filled with warriors. It was enchanted. A gift not from cunning Greek minds but from a far older, far more dangerous hand.
Alice’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Deep within the horse’s hollow belly, among the Greek soldiers, lay something else—something divine. A relic of deception, crafted by Hephaestus, empowered by the tricksters of 4EverMore, and carried into Troy under the guise of mortal strategy.”
Rumplestiltskin grinned. “When the Trojans wheeled it inside their gates, thinking it a trophy of war, they didn’t just invite their enemies in—they invited in chaos itself.”
That night, as Troy celebrated, the relic’s magic seeped into the city’s very bones. The defenders turned on one another in paranoia. The seers were struck blind. The warriors lost their will to fight. And when the Greeks emerged from the horse? There was barely a battle left to win.
The Aftermath—A City Cursed
The Greeks claimed victory, but Troy was never truly conquered—it was cursed. The whispers of the gods still linger in its ruins. Mortals tell tales of how the city fell by mere strategy, but in truth, it was divine mischief that ended the war.
Alice twirled her wine glass, watching the deep red liquid swirl. “And so, dear mortals, your legends tell you of clever Greeks and arrogant Trojans. But remember this—when something seems too clever, too perfect… it usually has an immortal’s fingerprints all over it.”
Loki chuckled. “And that, my dear friends, is the real story of the Trojan Horse. A divine trick, played on mortals who never saw it coming.”
Rumplestiltskin leaned back, tossing his quill aside. “And if you think the gods stopped playing with mortals after that, well…” He flashed a wicked grin. “That’s a story for another night.”
The lanterns flickered, casting eerie shadows across the room. Outside, the stars shimmered over 4EverMore, and somewhere in the distance, a faint whisper of divine laughter echoed through the wind.
