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It was an unusually peaceful afternoon on Mount Olympus, and Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, was enjoying one of her favorite pastimes: not hunting. She was lounging under the shade of an ancient oak tree, her silver bow resting beside her. Normally, she’d be out in the wilds, running with her sacred deer or chasing after the occasional mythological beast. But today? Today was a “me day.” A rare occurrence for a goddess who was always on the move.
She stretched lazily, enjoying the quiet. Even her hunting dogs, usually barking and running circles around her, were napping nearby. It was almost too peaceful. Artemis frowned slightly. When was the last time she had nothing to do?
Suddenly, the calm was broken by the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat—a sound way too refined to belong to her usual companions. She opened one eye and saw her twin brother, Apollo, standing in front of her, looking far too energetic for her liking.
“Artemis, dear sister!” Apollo greeted, grinning widely. “Fancy seeing you lying around. I thought you’d be off chasing boars or something.”
Artemis groaned, sitting up slowly. “Apollo, I was enjoying my solitude. What do you want?”
Apollo chuckled, sitting down next to her uninvited. “Solitude is overrated. I was just thinking, it’s been a while since we’ve had a good old-fashioned sibling competition, hasn’t it?”
Artemis raised an eyebrow. “You mean the kind of competition where I beat you and you sulk for a century? No thanks.”
“Oh, come on,” Apollo said, leaning back on his hands, his golden curls catching the sunlight in that annoyingly perfect way they always did. “I’m not talking about anything serious. Just a little fun. You and me, right now. What do you say?”
Artemis sighed. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch! Just a simple challenge: hunting. But not your usual targets.” He smiled mysteriously. “I’ve got something special in mind.”
Her interest was piqued. “What kind of challenge?”
Apollo grinned. “I’ve been hearing rumors about a… creature. A very elusive one. Something even you might have trouble tracking down.”
Artemis narrowed her eyes, intrigued but suspicious. “Go on.”
Apollo leaned in, lowering his voice dramatically. “The Golden Chicken of Olympus.”
Artemis blinked. “The… what?”
“The Golden Chicken!” Apollo said, his excitement barely contained. “It’s said to be able to outrun even Hermes, and its cluck is so loud it can make the ground tremble. It’s been causing trouble for weeks now—messing with the sacred groves, stealing ambrosia from the gods. I thought, who better to catch it than the great Artemis?”
Artemis stared at him for a moment, deadpan. “A chicken?”
“Not just any chicken. The Golden Chicken.” Apollo’s grin widened. “What’s the matter? Afraid of a little poultry?”
Artemis smirked, standing up and grabbing her bow. “Alright, Apollo. You’re on. But when I catch this ridiculous bird, you owe me—no more challenges for at least a century.”
“Deal!” Apollo said, jumping to his feet. “But when I catch it first, you’ll have to admit that I’m the better hunter.”
Artemis laughed. “We’ll see about that.”
They set off together, making their way through the forests of Olympus, following the vague rumors of the Golden Chicken’s last sighting. Along the way, they bantered like the immortal siblings they were, with Apollo bragging about his victories (which Artemis politely ignored) and Artemis mocking his lack of subtlety.
After hours of searching, they finally reached a clearing where, sure enough, a shimmering, golden-feathered chicken was strutting around as if it owned the place. It was pecking at the ground with an air of regal arrogance, its feathers glinting in the sunlight.
“There it is,” Apollo whispered, eyes wide with excitement. “The Golden Chicken of Olympus.”
Artemis gave him a sideways glance. “This is what you were so excited about? It’s just a bird.”
“Not just any bird,” Apollo insisted. “Look at it! It’s practically glowing. You can’t tell me you’re not impressed.”
“Not even a little,” Artemis said flatly. “But fine. Let’s catch it.”
As they crept closer, the Golden Chicken suddenly froze, its head snapping up as if it had sensed their presence. Then, with a loud, earth-shaking cluck, it bolted.
Artemis reacted instantly, drawing her bow and shooting an arrow faster than the eye could follow. But the chicken dodged, zigzagging through the trees with surprising agility. Apollo, not one to be outdone, summoned his radiant chariot and took to the skies, trying to cut off the bird’s escape route.
The chase was on.
For hours, the two gods pursued the Golden Chicken across Olympus. It was as slippery as it was fast, darting through groves, across rivers, and even through Zeus’s gardens, much to the thunder god’s annoyance. At one point, the chicken ran straight through Hera’s peacock sanctuary, causing a massive ruckus as peacocks squawked and flapped in outrage.
“What kind of chicken is this?!” Apollo yelled as he flew overhead, trying to keep up. “It’s faster than Hermes!”
Artemis, not one to be deterred, kept her eyes locked on the bird, determined to end the absurd chase. “It’s just a chicken, Apollo. Focus!”
Just as Artemis lined up what she was sure would be the perfect shot, the Golden Chicken turned a sharp corner and vanished into a cave.
Artemis skidded to a stop, lowering her bow. “A cave? Seriously?”
Apollo landed beside her, looking slightly out of breath. “I didn’t know chickens lived in caves.”
“They don’t,” Artemis said, glaring into the darkness. “This one’s just playing dirty.”
Without another word, they ventured into the cave, following the sound of the chicken’s mocking clucks echoing off the walls. Deeper and deeper they went, until they reached a massive chamber. And there, in the center, sitting on a throne made of hay, was the Golden Chicken—its feathers glowing brighter than ever.
Artemis and Apollo exchanged a glance. “Is this… its lair?” Apollo asked, incredulous.
Artemis sighed. “I don’t care. I’m ending this.” She raised her bow again, but before she could release the arrow, the chicken let out another ear-splitting cluck. The ground beneath them shook, and suddenly, the entire chamber was filled with dozens of chickens—normal ones, thankfully—but all clucking and squawking in a chaotic frenzy.
Apollo looked around, wide-eyed. “I didn’t sign up for this.”
“Just keep them off me,” Artemis growled, pushing her way through the feathery chaos.
Finally, she reached the Golden Chicken and, with a quick, precise movement, scooped it up in her arms. The bird squawked indignantly, but Artemis held it firm, staring it down.
“I’ve hunted creatures ten times your size,” she muttered. “You’re not getting away from me.”
With the bird in hand, Artemis turned to leave, but Apollo was still flailing in the midst of the chicken swarm, his golden tunic now covered in feathers.
“Uh, a little help here?” he called out, struggling to push the chickens away.
Artemis rolled her eyes, smirking. “Maybe you should’ve stuck to lyre playing.”
Later, back at the oak tree, Apollo sat sulking, covered in feathers, while Artemis calmly petted the now-docile Golden Chicken.
“I’ll never hear the end of this,” Apollo muttered.
“Probably not, at least not for a hundred years,” Artemis said with a grin. “But hey, at least you didn’t get pecked to death.”
Apollo glared at her. “Very funny.”
As the sun set, Artemis leaned back against the tree, satisfied with her victory. The Golden Chicken nestled contentedly in her lap.
“Next time,” Apollo said, plucking a feather from his hair, “we’re sticking to archery contests.”
Artemis just laughed. “Sure, Apollo. Whatever you say.”
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