The temple lay forgotten. Statues collected cobwebs and dust, the table of offerings was almost bare. Pandora was in a foul mood. She languished in her private quarters with Blasphemy guarding the door (not that anyone would dare approach his mistress in such a state). She stared at the egg she and her lover had produced, a clawed paw carressing its surface. The egg was warm and twitched sporadically.
...
Pride skulked about, sulking and pouting. Wasn't he enough for his mother? His brothers all had left, but he had stayed, stayed to lurk around the temple, to take care of Her. He tried to keep up appearances, tried to dust and arrange the meager offerings... but no-one else seemed to care. Only he cared enough to worship Her properly.
...
The egg rocked, a few tiny mews emitting from the shell. Inside, a fearsome kitten fought the warmth. This place was too small for her mightiness! She kicked and punched the walls of her cell. A rush of cool air! Dusty sunlight, an immense figure staring down at her. She hissed, and after only a few more defiant kicks, sat amidst the shards of her egg, blinking and mewling. She was hungry! She was here! Everyone should acknowledge her!
"Squalor," Pandora muttered, naming her daughter and deploring the state of the temple all at once. She smirked.
Blasphemy's single eye twitched. There would be changes made. Oh yes. Things would be different around here.
