Hera woke up restless from her sleep. It was the same dream again. She had been having this dream for the past one month and every single time it was the exact same. It was time Hera realised it was more than just a dream. It was an incident from a long time ago... 

It was the wedding of Peleus and Thetis. Everyone waa invited, except Eris, the Goddess of discord. She stormed in with a golden apple in hand, incribed "To the fairest one". Zeus was asked to choose the fairest lady to give the apple to, but he commanded Paris of Troy to choose the fairest one from Aphrodite, Athena and Hera. Paris chose Aphrodite, swayed by her promise to let him marry the most beautiful woman on earth, Helen. 

Now this was from long ago and Hera had forgotten all about it, but her recent dreams made her go crazy. She had to get it back- The Golden Apple. It should have belonged to her after all. Thus began her search for Aphrodite.

After some research Hera found there was a statue of Aphrodite somewhere in New York City. After a few days of searching around she found that the place was Phoenix Beauty Hall. There, she asked the receptionist about the owner but they refused to reveal any information.

She kept visiting daily with the same question until they finally gave in and told her the owner had an office and several businesses in Vegas. She would find something there, but it was known by all that the owner had already passed a long time so she couldn't guarantee her anything.  

Even though it was unlikely that a dead person would come back to life, Hera knew Aphrodite couldn't have died. She is a Goddess after all. She bought plane tickets to go to Vegas the same night so that no time was wasted. She was determined to get back the apple!

Hera squinted out the plane window, neon tentacles of light clawing at the inky Vegas sky. Her knuckles were white on the armrest, years of mafia life honed into her muscles, but this mission felt different. It carried the urgency of a half-forgotten dream and the simmering resentment of a wrong past.

The Sky Palace shimmered like a desert mirage. Zigzag angles and geometric patterns whispered opulent mystery, a stark contrast to the familiar grit of her past life. Hera adjusted the strap of her vintage designer bag, the weight reminding her of the woman she left behind.

Under a dragon-embroidered awning, Hera slipped into the Divine Teapot, which was a portal to another time. Incense smoke spiraled like miniature constellations through the dim air. An air of ancient secrets hung heavy, promising whispers of the past. 

An old woman, Min, her face etched with lines, emerged from behind a bamboo screen. Her eyes held the secrets of forgotten seasons. "May I offer you solace, traveler?" she asked.

Hera cleared her throat. "Perhaps not solace," she said, her voice steady, "but information. About your boss."

Min's eyes narrowed, like a spider watching a fly. "She passed away," she murmured, her voice as thin as rice paper. 

Undeterred, Hera leaned forward. "Anything she might have left behind?" 

The silence after Min's words stretched taut, full of unspoken secrets. Hera held her breath, a flicker of doubt gnawing at her resolve. Could her quest have ended at this dusty door, before it even truly began?

Min, her gaze seemingly fixed on a swirling wisp of incense smoke, remained impassive. "Some stories," she finally rasped, her voice like dry leaves rustling in the desert wind, "die with the teller. Perhaps this is one of them."

Hera clenched her jaw, the taste of frustration bitter on her tongue. But the fire of her purpose still burned, refusing to be extinguished so easily. "Perhaps," she countered, "but some whispers echo even in the silence."

Min's eyes met hers, a fleeting glimmer of recognition flashing within their depths. A long, deliberate sigh escaped her lips, and she spoke again. "There is… a hidden room. Beyond the koi pond, beneath the willow tree. But be warned, child, what you seek may not be what you wish to find."

With that cryptic hint, Min disappeared back behind the bamboo screen, leaving Hera to grapple with the sudden surge of hope and unease that warred within her. The hidden room - a forbidden door to past secrets. Would it offer the clarity she craved, or unleash Pandora's box of forgotten pain?

Night swallowed the city, but Hera found herself lost in the dusty maze of the Divine Teapot. Min's words spun in her head: koi pond, willow tree, hidden room. She searched high and low, but the only pond she found was filled with teacups, and the nearest tree was a plastic palm by the counter. Had Min fooled her? Was this whole hunt a cruel joke?

Just as frustration gnawed at her, a glint of mahogany caught her eye. Tucked in a shadowy corner, barely wider than a whisper, a hidden door gleamed. It was beautiful, polished wood begging to be touched.

Hera's hand trembled on the doorknob. No koi pond or willow tree, but a dusty office stretched before her. Something hummed in the air, a faint echo of power left behind. This was no ordinary room.

Years of Olympian intrigue honed Hera's gaze. Papers overflowed, brown with age. Aphrodite's perfume lingered, sweet and cloying like a faded memory. A velvet drawer held wonders: silken scarves whispering of promises, a vial with an unknown elixir's scent. Each object a puzzle piece, whispering a story Hera needed to solve.

An open book on charms lay across the desk, a dried rose marking a page. Aphrodite's elegant writing described a love potion potent enough to snare any heart. This wasn't just an office. It was a workshop, a playground for divine manipulation.

Suddenly, a gleam of gold caught her eye. Beneath letters, a silver compact, etched with Aphrodite's dove, glinted. With trembling fingers, she opened it. A gasp escaped her lips.

Nestled in crimson velvet, a single golden feather lay still. Not the apple, but a clue. This wasn't a dead end, but a crossroads, a whisper leading closer to the truth. The apple might still be hidden, but Hera now held a feather, ready to unravel the mystery of the missing owner and the Golden Apple.