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One moment she was nothing but a clay sculpture, the next she blinked and she was alive. She stared forward at twelve faces of varying expressions - delight, hesitation, surprise, thoughtfulness - with her own face open, eyes wide and full of confusion.
One woman stepped forward, a helmet on her head and a spear in hand, and explained quickly, succinctly. Hephaestus had created her, the first woman, under Zeus’ orders and each god had given her a gift before she was brought to life. Knowledge of weaving from Athena, intelligence from Hermes, Aphrodite grace, the Graces a necklace of gold, the Horai a crown of flowers.
Her name was Pandora. All gifted.
She had barely any time before she was whisked away, presented to Epimetheus. They placed a jar in her hands (“do not open it, it is merely for the appearance, a bridal gift”) and lightly nudged her forward. All she could do was smile at Epimetheus, who looked like the gods had granted him the greatest boon known to mortal or immortal.
That night they were married, and that night Pandora learned the cruelty of the gods.
They had told her not to open it, but everything in her said to do so. What could be inside? They said it was merely a pretty looking jar, but then why be so serious about it remaining closed? She snuck her way from the house, to the pithos that sat just past the door. What harm could it do to take a look? There couldn’t be anything bad in it, they would never give something harmful for a wedding.
Fingers ghosted over the lid of the jar, teeth biting into her lips as she hesitated. Perhaps she should leave it be, return to the house and bed… and a man they’d told her was her husband but she felt nothing for.
She lifted the lid -
And the world as they knew it ended.
For centuries later her name would be whispered with bitter hatred, spat out like it was poisoned. Pandora. Pandora and her pithos that held all the evils in the world. The first woman who brought destruction to mankind, rained hellfire down upon them as she loosed all the illnesses and evils and toils onto unsuspecting mortals whose life had been so kind beforehand.
Pandora. All Gifted.
For centuries Pandora would silently seethe, wishing nothing more than to scream and yell every time her name was said like a curse. But who would ever listen to her about how the fault lied with the gods? The gods, who had created her with this sole purpose. Who had gifted her with beauty so Epimetheus would accept her and curiosity and cunning so she would open the jar, who had placed all the evils in it and given it to her knowing what would happen.
The gods had known exactly what they were doing and they’d known exactly how to make sure none ever blamed them. The blame would lie on her shoulders, maybe sometimes on Prometheus’ for provoking Zeus or Epimetheus’ for marrying her but never without cursing her name. As if the fault didn’t lie with Zeus and all the Olympians who had played a part in her creation.
But she refused to roll over and lay down and disappear into nothingness. The Olympians had played their hand and unleashed countless evils upon the world. She could not force the evils back into the pithos, even if she had the power there were too many evils to ever capture and force back in at once.
But she had the pithos, she had the only spirit that had remained inside. She had carefully moved the spirit into a new container centuries ago and disappeared into the night, not bothering to tell Epimetheus she was leaving or where she was going. They were husband and wife but that had simply been part of Zeus’ ploy and she didn’t truly feel anything for him.
She traveled the world, going wherever things were the worst, a little box clutched in her hands or in a satchel. Sometimes she would only stop their briefly, other times she would stay for months, years. She would use her gifts when helpful, would weave clothes for those without any or her cunning to deduce where thieves had gone with a village's cattle. She went to those in famine, in sickness, in war and brought what man needed most.
Pandora. All Gifted.
She brought the last gift to mankind. She brought hope.
The mortals would never know, they would continue to curse her name for time immemorial, but the gods knew. Zeus knew. And she hoped he sat on Olympus cursing her name too as she gave mortals the hope to succeed where he would have them perish.