LEAKIPEDIA | Eris in the Palace

Those who have not yet read mythology might want to flip through a copy. Greek mythology, after all, is full of useful lessons for modern politics.

Take Eris — the uninvited guest who crashed a banquet on Olympus and tossed a golden apple marked “to the fairest.” That single act of mischief sparked jealousy among the gods and, eventually, the legendary Trojan War.

Now fast forward to a certain palace, where a story equally worthy of mythology seems to have unfolded.

At the center of the whispers is a sweet-faced official — let’s simply call her Eris. Admirers describe her as elegant, polished, and the kind of person who looks so proper people say she couldn’t even break a plate. In local parlance: “di makabasag pinggan.”

Appearances, however, can be deceiving.

Sources say this modern-day Eris had been “sailing on two rivers at the same time” — currents flowing smoothly enough that neither bank appeared aware of the other. For a while, the navigation was impressive. Some even joked that it took exceptional scheduling skills to keep both waters calm.

But rivers have a way of meeting.

When word of the overlapping currents finally surfaced, the palace suddenly looked less like a seat of government and more like Olympus after the apple landed on the table.

The biggest surprise? The graceful queen of her domain was abruptly removed from her throne, leaving admirers stunned and insiders scrambling to understand how the tide turned so quickly.

Along the way, an entirely innocent figure found himself dragged into the whirlpool — not because he had anything to do with the currents, but because in politics, proximity alone can be enough to get you soaked.

Which brings us back to mythology.

When Eris dropped that apple among the gods, the banquet never quite recovered. Smiles stiffened, whispers multiplied, and everyone began wondering who would be blamed for the chaos.

The palace banquet today feels eerily similar.

After all, when someone sails two rivers long enough, the waters eventually collide.

And when they do, even Olympus learns that discord travels faster than the truth.

Eris may have been shown the door, but palace watchers know better: the goddess of discord doesn’t retire. She just circles the banquet hall, apple in hand, waiting for the next table to crash.