A long time ago on the island of Crete, there was a young lad named Quakeus. This mischievous boy was always doing things to get him in trouble with his parents and others, accidental or not. But Quakeus’s greatest mistake took place one afternoon in the forest, the forest with the most life in Crete. Plants, animals, and wood nymphs lived freely there in harmony, and Artemis herself was sometimes spotted almost daily hunting there. Now Quakeus, he was sometimes described by his peers as clumsy, careless, or accident-prone. But his tutor, Kraon, might have a few more choice words such as destructive, criminal, good-for-nothing, incompetent… You get the idea. He was raised by a good shepherd who cared for him with all his heart, but his curious nature and sometimes temper was beyond the shepherd’s control. When Quakeus got angry, you wouldn’t want to be near him. He was a boy who everyone in Crete knew not to provoke, for his wrath may cause entire buildings to crumble. He’d been kicked out of school after school until he was stuck with the sad mediocrity in which Kraon taught his pupils. It was a small building, and it was poorly built. Even the smallest rain shower would cause the roof to leak, and soon the whole building was flooded. Quakeus had already broken many valuables there, such as the pottery Kraon kept in the corner that had a dramatic picture of the gods quarreling upon it, yet Kraon kept persistent to educate him.
In fact, Kraon treated Quakeus better than anyone else in Crete, rivaling his shepherd guardian who went off to fetch milk one day during Quakeus’s later childhood and never returned. Now he’d grown up, and in his teenage state he’d gotten a tad more mature, but still just as temperamental and ill-behaved, if not more. Once, Kraon had questioned Quakeus. He approached him one afternoon, sat him down on a stool and spoke:
“Oh Quakeus, my pupil, why must you anger so easily? Why must you be so destructive?” He said.
“It is not my fault. It seems the gods would have it so, as I have begged of them time and time again to get them to lengthen my temper, but to no avail.”
“Then I suppose we’ll have to manage,” Kraon said.
It was the shortest day of the year. Quakeus had broken yet another straw for Kraon, but like he had done every other time, Kraon remained calm. But Kraon made the fatal mistake of muttering under his breath, Why are you such an irritable brat, Quakeus… This enraged Quakeus. He lifted the nearest heavy object, which happened to be a loose chunk of marble from the wall, and chunked it at Kraon, who ducked. The chunk of marble then bounced its way across the ground until it smashed into a wall and shattered into two. With Kraon’s mouth wide open in awe, Quakeus realized he’d really messed up and picked up the pieces of marble and placed them on a table. He started to apologize.
“How can you ever forgive me for my wrongdoings,” he began.
There was a long silence, then Kraon pointed towards the exit. He said nothing to Quakeus, who waved back sadly, then walked out, depressed to get kicked out of yet another school. But that was the beginning of his problems.
A little-known fact to most Cretans; Quakeus was also a hunter, who kept his lucky bow and arrows stashed away in a secret hiding place. That afternoon, he and his depressed self set out to take it out on any game he could find. His tactic this time was to sit on a tree stump and wait for a sound. When he heard the grass rustle, he’d spring into action, or so he thought. Little did he know, Artemis was, at that time, unknowingly accompanying him in the day’s hunt. As Quakeus sat on the stump, Artemis maneuvered her way around the forest, searching for game. Suddenly a bear was spotted by Quakeus, but Artemis saw it too. Quakeus pounced up, shot at it, and missed. Artemis didn’t see it, and as she crept closer to the bear who apparently didn’t notice the arrow either, Quakeus grabbed another arrow. He fired but it accidentally went straight at Artemis. She, being immortal, was unaffected by the arrow as it passed directly through her godly body, but that didn’t mean the archer responsible was going to get away without being addressed. So after shooting and killing the bear she approached Quakeus who, scared out of his wit, stood frozen in the spot on which he had fired the arrow.
“Identify yourself,” she said.
“Quakeus,” he replied nervously. “Of Crete.”
“Well then, Quakeus of Crete,” her voiced boomed, “you shall pay for your attempt to hunt my game, and for shooting me as well with your arrows.”
Quakeus was trembling.
“For your actions, you shall become a bear yourself,” she decreed. And just like that, Quakeus became a medium sized brown bear. He looked up at Artemis sadly.
“Shoo,” she said coldly. “Before I shoot you too.” And Quakeus ran off.
Now that he was a bear, and such was irreversible by the law of Olympus, Quakeus was depressed. Zeus, seeing this, took pity on him and decided to come down and offer him something.
When Quakeus saw Zeus, he growled in disgust as he was just another selfish god who would probably punish him further. But instead, Zeus offered:
“Young Quakeus. I’ve seen your dilemma from the heavens, and have come to offer you one gift: I will take you to see your shepherd guardian.”
Knowing Quakeus couldn’t reply as a bear, Zeus assumed he was pleased with this gift and poofed Quakeus to where his shepherd guardian worked. He seemed to be raising another boy. This enraged Quakeus so much that he lost control and killed the shepherd. After ripping him to pieces he realized what he had just done. The only person who ever understood him, gone… After he had done so much for him. This greatened his rage, and he ran to the nearest tree and cut it down with his newly acquired razor-sharp claws. The tree was so massive, when it hit the ground the shockwave knocked Quakeus on his furry gluteus maximus. It also knocked down all the other trees within a 40-foot radius, which created a shockwave so big it caused a tidal wave in the Mediterranean. The ground split in half. It was so intense, the shepherd’s house crumbled and nothing was left of it. Even all the way back in Crete, buildings shook. Kraon’s school was destroyed. Everything nearby was in ruins. Only the strongest of buildings were left standing.
This was the first earthquake. Because of the damage suffered, Zeus seized Quakeus and placed him in a large underground cage. Quakeus is very unhappy there, and as a result he sometimes throws tantrums and does whatever possible to make it known that he is angry. Every time, he makes the earth split in half. Yet he remains there for all eternity, to thrash about in his cage, never to escape.