Chapter 18:
-Lemnos-
The sun glared down at him, as if Apollo was detesting every moment he wasn't blinking the sweat out of his eyes. He swallowed a bit, staring into the shimmery distance. It was the worst day of summer and he was here, with his family all drifting along the oceans. It was a small boat, one they managed to scourge together with years of work and connections. He was a young man, able bodied, though skinny. His lips were parched, the last of their water drank just yesterday. He turned to his younger sister, the young woman shivering against their father's leg, her stomach growling. She was too young to shoulder such a journey, if conditions didn't demand it.
His mother helmed the boat, her turn to row and keep them going, but her arms shook from the exertion. She had been at it for hours. Her hair clung to her face, wet with the sea's mist. His father…well the man was grumpy as per usual, scowling away at the seat of the boat.
"We are stuck," said his father, the grouchy man nursing a sore on his calloused finger.
"Father," he tried again.
"Silence boy. We should have never left our home!"
"Father, we would have died."
He scowled, for once standing up to the older man. He glared at the older man and for once found him wanting.
"There was sickness back home, families being burned, and our crops had failed again!"
He huffed, feeling awful about what he said.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
His father blinked, and for once seemed to look at him with a bit of respect.
"I'm the one acting like a child. I know you're right…but that place had been our family's home since my grandfather's father."
"Dad?"
They all turned to the small girl, who had been looking in the distance.
"What's that?"
They all turned, eyeing an island, the first island they'd seen since their journey.
"Land," whispered his mother, "LAND!"
The son moves quickly, taking the row from his mother gently, using his newfound energy to row them even faster to the pier. He could see someone in the distance, a speck of a person, frantically waving black numbs that he assumed were hands. He couldn't make out any details at this distance.
"Can he see us?" muttered his father.
There was a glint in the distance, as if the light was dancing off something.
"Who cares," muttered the son, "I'll get us there!"
He rowed harder.
"We are here to make a new life for ourselves! One without that sickness or our crops failing!"
The older man looked away. He felt for him, he did, but his father looked on their family's land like it was a blessed and sacred thing. It wasn't. The soil was almost patch white and the people they lived with were no better than bandits. More than once he caught a neighbor stealing what little crops they had. It wasn't his father's fault, but the circumstances were horrible.
They needed to leave, this little boat, his hope for a better tomorrow. It had taken forever to convince him, his mother, and his sister…but they did it. A huge risk, one that seemed to be paying off.
A few moments later. A whistling sound came screaming out, a rope with a weight attached to it was flung into their little boat, making everyone jump. It was a miracle the damn thing didn't punch a hole through his carved boat.
He stopped rowing, looking at the distance. He couldn't hear what he was saying, but the man on the pier made an exaggerated motion to grip the rope, another larger shadow beside him.
"How did they?"
He blinked, it was leagues away, the human so far in the distance it looked like he could stand on his hand as a little person.
"How did they throw it so far?"
"Doesn't matter, grip the rope boy!"
His father stood, his roped muscles going taut as he gripped the rope. They held on together, grunting at the sheer strength on the other side. They must have had a number of people helping pull them in.
They were cutting through the water now, bracing their feet against the head of his small boat.
"Pretty bird," muttered his sister.
His mother was saying nothing, which was unusual, but he had his father focused on more important things.
"Come on son, keep your grip!"
It took them forty minutes, his hands screaming, but they were soon docked. He blinked at the hand that was shoved into his face. The man before him must have been his age, early twenties. His hair was wild, kept at bay with a cloth he had wrapped around his head.
"Hey there! Seemed like you guys were in a bit of a bind!"
He blinked, looking around. The houses were all painted, a cascade of color that was unusual for him. He stood on the dock, seeing the paths were flattened and had stone rectangles placed into the path.
It was straight and seemed smooth to look at. The wood beneath his feet was sturdy too. Most swayed with the ocean from what he could remember, though he and his father were not well off enough to travel to the larger states he knew of.
"Uh, thank you," he said.
"What's your name stranger, what brings you out to our humble home?"
The boy blinked, his father being helped by a–AH!
"What the hell is that!?"
His thoughts were halted by the beast of a man that was helping his family out of the boat. That wasn't the worst part, no it was the fact that the man knelt down and reached for his boat and lifted it right out of the water. The giant of a man was inspecting it, humming as he shifted it left and right. His sister was staring, blinking the exhaustion from her face.
The rope was pooled around his feet. His father was the largest man he knew, the strongest in their village, before it was ravaged by disease. Yet, his father barely came to this man's collar bone. His crimson hair was completely unnatural, and the golden eyes seemed to peer into him, lazily looking him over.
"Uh, stranger?"
The young man turned, blinking the disbelief towards the younger male. He noted that he was well fed, muscular too. A tad taller than he was, but barely at the shoulder of the giant behind him.
The blue toga that was wrapped around him was of high quality, and was pinned with a silverish metal on his right shoulder. His hair danced, pooling around his neck. He had a small scar at the tip of his lip, and bright eyes that danced behind the thick strands of hair that covered them.
He blushed a bit, at the way this man smiled.
"Got your tongue huh? Well, I'll give the introductions then."
He stepped back a bit, arms spread wide like his smile.
"The name's Krios, and welcome to Lemnos!"
The entire family faltered.
"Lemnos," whispered his mother, "but…it was destroyed wasn't it?"
Krios blinked, looking at the larger man with a smile.
"Hear that Heph, you need to get out more. Apparently…we're dead!"
The larger man moved beside Krios, a strange name Heph. His mother however was openly gawking, sweating a bit as she stared at him. His father was no better.
"Wait," muttered their father, "there was a rumor that Lemnos was rebuilding but…"
He turned, eyeing the crimson hair of man.
"If the rumors are true," he whispered, "then that's."
He finally spoke, the red haired man crossing his arms. He swallowed a bit, wondering how it was possible for any natural man to be that muscular…though the smaller man Krios was well built himself.
He was a little too focused on it if the way his mother eying him was any indicator.
He coughed awkwardly, looked around, noting that all the people he was seeing around this harbor were wearing chitons of varying dyes and all seemed healthy. Some were even fat!
"How much food do they have?" thought the man.
"You act as if that's my fault. It is you and your people that are not trading with others."
"Come on, we trade some stuff…when uh…other merchants show up."
Hephaestus narrowed his eyes in exasperation.
"Hey, my dad's cousin never came back alright, he was the one that made our fishing boats."
"Make new ones," smirked Hephaestus.
"We did! Not our fault they sunk…say, would you finally–"
"No. It must be built by your hands."
It seemed like an old argument, the way Krios rolled his eyes.
The young man staring at them, recalling someone that had survived the destruction of Lemnos. He had taught him how to make the very boat that brought his family across the sea, telling everyone of the Titan that destroyed everything. It was too fantastical to consider, with most dismissing his story as the ravings of the local drunk.
He had been one of them as well.
"Besides, we have the best goods you can get," smirked Krios, winking at him, "How else do we get the name, the island of Artisans?"
"Because you alone call it that."
The red head's voice grumbled like gravel, shaking up his spine in the best of ways. The man swallowed, eyeing between the pretty man and the…other specimen. What was this place?
His father seemed to finally put the pieces together. His mother jumped a bit, following his father as he gripped his shoulder, slamming him into his knees.
"Bow your head boy, that's an Olympian!"
"What?" he whispered.
Then the name registered in his foggy mind. Heph, as in Hephaestus! Other stories told of the god that fought off Atlas in Lemnos, but much like the raving lunatic that described its destruction, many viewed this other tale as a fable. A make believe from the trauma of losing their home.
His poor master never believed them, droning about the loss of his family. Many were inclined to agree with him. After all, when was the last time the gods ever defended anyone?
This wasn't good. The boy shivered, recalling all the disastrous stories. Not much was known of Hephaestus, only that he was a hermit and never left his home.
He looked up hesitantly, hearing a strange noise. When he finally looked at them, he flinched a bit at the cackling that followed. Krios began laughed, pointing at Hephaestus. The lord of flames was shaking his head and covering his eyes.
"It's not funny, Krios."
"It's just the way they make you uncomfortable that's so funny! You'd think you'd get used to it. I mean, mom was practically shoving tributes at you when you built that temple for all the orphaned children."
Hepahestus turned to the newest addition to their island. It was obvious they were here to stay, disparaged as they were. He turned to the young man, nodding. Krios' smile melted, revealing a more calm and ready expression.
"What do you need, boss?"
"Get me your uncle. Make sure to gather the others for these people."
The boy's father looked up, eyes wide.
"...truly?"
"You've made your way here. So long as you are willing to ply your trade and obey our laws, there is no reason not to have you stay. With that said, it's best to see where we can even place you in the first part. Besides, the boat was built by your son's hands, no?"
They all nodded.
"Then he'll find work quickly. Our trade has weakened without a means off the island."
The small girl's stomach growled, making him sigh.
"You all must be hungry. Please, follow me."
They all hesitantly followed, their stomachs warring against their suspicions. To their shock, this was no village, but rather a harbor outright. The buildings were filled with people selling fish, a storage place for nets, and a bunch of tools that his father didn't recognize as a farmer, nor did he. It was like a small village had been repurposed.
One of the older men that were tying a net together turned to them, blinking. His smile turned bright at the sight of the God.
"Lord Hephaestus, good morrow to you! I see you caught quite a catch today. Was wondering what you were doing when you asked to borrow that rope of mine."
"I appreciate it," said Hephaestus, "I left it at the pier as you requested."
"Good. Damn thing's too heavy for me to move on my own, so that makes it easier. Planning to expand that pier for larger ships, need the rope for it."
"I know," snarked Hephaestus, grabbing some fish, "you've only discussed it a number of times."
The older man blushed a bit, chuckling slightly as he stood. He was a portly man, his bald head covered by a piece of cloth to protect it from the sun. He held no upper garment for himself, his chiton pooling around his waist. It was a strange way to wear the garment, but considering the sweat the man had around his shoulders, it might have been for that.
His large stomach did nothing to bely the dense muscle on his shoulders and arm.
"The name's Tritin, nice to meet you all. I take it you're hungry?"
He moved into the stall, coming out with a bundle of raw fish. They were stored in a woven basket, their raw smell hitting his nose hard.
If he didn't know it would make him sick somehow eating it as is, he'd have devoured it raw.
"Make sure to return the basket to me when you can, it can be very smelly if left alone and unwashed."
There were easily enough fish in there to feed his entire family twice over.
"We..can't trade with you," muttered his father.
He blinked, watching the way the man waved them off.
"Lord Hephaestus vouches for you, that's good enough for me. I mean you can't get everything for free, but we know what it's like to start again from nothing. Eat your fill today, rest up, and gather your strength. You can worry about making ends meet when you have the means. Besides, I always catch a few extra fishes to offer to the forest nymphs here."
That had to be the most hysterical thing the young man heard, period. He ignored it though, staring at food that was now in his hands.
"That is dangerous," muttered Hepahestus.
The man had the audacity to laugh and blush as he did so, rubbing his belly.
"Perhaps, but I'd die happy if they whisked me away to their little sanctuary. Can't have the lads thinking it's ok for just women to be wandering those woods now can we?"
Hephaestus rolled his eyes, moving past him. He turned to the family, the father carrying the bucket.
"I apologize for my rudeness. My name is Hephaestus, yours?"
His father spoke up first.
"Damascus. This is my wife Chloe and our children Theo and Cora."
Theo swallowed a bit, feeling his face flush at the sight of an actual God. he had heard that they were supposed to be otherworldly, beautiful, delicate even. This man looked like he fought bears. There was an imperviousness to his expression, yet he couldn't help but feel kindness in his gaze as well.
He stayed silent, hoping that would be enough to not ease the God's good will.
They left the harbor, taking a path that was swirled up a hill. He looked around, noting they were still following the coast line for the most part.
More and more, trees were spotted, eventually becoming dense enough to be a forest in the distance on his left.
He turned, getting lost in the sight of so much greenery. His own island was rather sparse of such vegetation.
As they climbed the cusp of the hill, he blinked.
"That's…"
Hephaestus smiled.
"Welcome to Poliochni."
It had been built a bit further from the coastline. Close enough to the water to see, but not evidently too shallow at that point for a proper pier. The homes were built on stone foundations and the entire community was surrounded by sleek stone walls, taller than even the man that whom he was beside. The bevy of colors was astounding, he even noted some kids and adults painting the walls with strange dyes that were slathered on brushes of crisp wheat. It was such a strange sight to see. It seemed as if the ocean would greet the city, with the forest surrounding it on either side, save for this small hill that overlooked it. He stared, still entrapped by the color and clay roofs.
"It's beautiful," whispered his mother.
Honestly, he felt the same. Though, his appreciation was mired with the idea that they seemed well fed, rather than an actual critique of the place. The ground suddenly shook a bit, his family stabilized by the god beside them.
"Are you alright?"
They all blinked, nodding.
"Good. I apologize. Seismic activity has been prevalent throughout Greece as of late. Was your home affected?"
The boy nodded. It was a strange occurrence to them all, like a snake that was slithering beneath the rock. He had hoped they had escaped that oddity, but alas to no prevail. Still, he didn't know what the word seismic meant, probably something earth related.
They followed him down the hill, eyeing the strangers they passed. Some carried nets over their backs, intent on fishing. Others he noted began to go north, in the distance. They carried tools that he was far more knowledgeable of, as they were the tools of his trade.
"Those are farmer tools," muttered his father.
The god smiled.
"You're correct. Our town here can always use more farmers to help tend the fields."
"You…work together?"
"The people here do, yes."
His father grumbled a bit at that. He had tried that with his past neighbors and admittedly didn't go so well.
"How does that even work?" his mother asked.
"You can ask the council. They're who you're meeting."
They chewed their lips, though that habit died quickly when an actual centaur came galloping towards them. She was beautiful, even to Theo, her human half that was. He had heard of weirdos who attempted to court Centaurs. He was thankful he was not one of them. Her chest was bound in hunting leathers and she carried a leather bag of some sort on her side. The back of her horse half was saddled with many bags, all filled to the brim with all sorts of herbs and other utensils he had never seen.
She blinked at him, noting his sister especially.
"New arrivals?"
"Correct," said Hepahestus, "I was bringing them to the city before I went to investigate the site. I have a feeling another has come through."
Kassandra smiled at him.
"Let me take em Heph, best you go and see what's going on. You're the only one that's basically fire proof."
He nodded, looking towards a distance further north.
"There again," he muttered.
"It's getting bad Heph, this is the fourth one this month!"
He turned to the family, nodding his head in respect.
"I apologize for my quick departure, but other matters need to be addressed. Kassandra here will guide you. Any questions you have, please defer to her. She's been a part of this community a lot longer than I have."
She rolled her eyes. Smiling at the new arrivals.
"Horse lady," whispered the little girl.
"I am!" she smiled, leaving forward, "what's your name?"
Hephaestus left it at that, his concern growing as he felt another minor seismic shift. It was a strange feeling, knowing the earth beneath his feet. He had assumed that it was volcanic, that the shunt he had made with Wis all those years ago was somehow not venting or absorbing pressure anymore.
Yet, when he had inspected the crimson stone, it was cool to the touch. Whatever this was, it wasn't natural. Still, at the very least it didn't cause landslides or property damage.
A small silver lining for what usually followed. He dashed through the woods, numerous spirits clambering around him, giving him the news he had guessed earlier.
"Another one?" he muttered, "I know the people will appreciate another stockpile of volcanic ash but still…"
The lava beasts were rather strange to him. They stumbled around, mindless for anything but destruction once interacted with. Yet, they seemed incomplete, like the lava was just a shell.
Either way, it didn't matter. His leyline was untouched by whatever supernatural force was causing them to come rumbling to the surface. He had even called on Demeter and all she could say was that the earth mother was agitated for some reason. They had a nice evening, but it was still a letdown in terms of actually having a solution.
He burst through the treeline, glaring at the beast that stumbled out of the volcanic rocks that littered his island. If there was one good thing to come out of these rambling creatures, it was the way they burrowed tunnels into the mountainous regions of Lemnos.
He had hoped their secrets would come from the trail they had left. Admittedly, his investigations were fruitless in that regard, yet successful in others.
The creature lumbered forward, its eyes mindless as the others. He sighed, conjured a series of blades. They pierced the creature before detonating in a shower of force. The body began to dim, the gaping holes not closing as it finally fell forward, dead.
He had seen creatures like this once before, mindless they were not. It was as if they were shoddily put together. Yet, each time he faced one, he noted they were stronger each time.
The body shuddered, before reducing into a massive pile of volcanic ash.
"It's time," he muttered.
He had been investigating these creatures on his own for a while now, using both as a reason to explore Greece a bit but also to investigate Nemesis as well.
Regardless of that fact, she did not orchestrate the events that took Calliope, she was still very much the cause of it. She knew exactly the sort she collaborated with. That, and she was a God. There was no way she didn't know what had transpired from her own actions.
She would get her due and already several of her allies now owed him. If the time came for a confrontation, she would find her own connections lacking. But that was beside the point. He conjured two pithos and a shovel. It took some time, but he managed to shovel enough ash to fill the jars.
He breathed, feeling his connection to the land.
"Hermes".
The air shuddered as the god of messengers appeared. Hephaestus grinned, feeling the way the feathered graves called to him. So long as Hermes wore them, he could never hide from him. It wasn't as if he knew where Hermes was at all times, but it resonated when it was near him. Helped to ensure that he wasn't being eavesdropped.
"Well, well, I think this is the first time you've asked for my services in months! What you got for me cuz?"
He gestured to the pithos'.
"...Pithos?"
He turned, eyeing the black ashes.
"...and ashes. You really know how to wow people, you know that?"
He lifted the first jar, giving it to Hermes.
"One delivery to Athena."
He nodded, taking the drachma that appeared above him. As he was given the second Jar, Hermes' smile grew.
"The other is for Lady Hecate."
"Oh, lady is it?"
"Deliver it," said Hephaestus drlyy, "I need her expertise on this matter."
"You know Athena won't like it," smirked Hermes.
"Hecate is the authority on all things divine and mystical, not Athena. She'll understand the logic of my decision."
Hermes mouthed logic and disappeared. The trickster attempted to leave a piece of himself behind, a means of entering when he wished, but that was crushed under Hephaestus' own divinity.
"Again," he muttered. He shifted his thoughts, placing the remainder of the ash in a much larger pithos, one that was almost as tall as him. He would normally place it in much smaller jars, but he was itching to go elsewhere.
He hoisted the thing on his shoulders, thinking of where to store it. It was suddenly ripped from his arms, making him turn. He blinked, staring down the stumpy nymph that had made roots to carry it for her. She blinked at him, before scurrying in the woods.
"..."
He stared into open space, gesturing his hands to the side.
"What the hell just happened?" he thought.
The google of the various spirits echoed in the woods. He knew they were trying to be helpful but still, at least try to talk. He could hear the way Styx chuckled in his head.
"She said she'll take it back to the store room in the city."
"How is it that she's able to move so far away from her tree?" he asked.
"Depends on the nymph really. I don't care enough to involve myself in such matters."
That was true. The other spirits were quiet, enjoying their time in the world beyond his inner one…though he made a mental note to check in on Phlegethon. She was a wildfire and would start conflicts just for the hell of it. He didn't want to separate her from Ares…again.
That was a gross image he'd rather forget.
"PFFT!"
"I really don't need this right now," muttered Hephaestus, ignoring his resident's cackling.
Well, with the nymph taking his load, there was really no reason to drag his feet. He smiled, raring to go back to his inner world to make the final adjustments in his planning.
The air shimmers around him, a rainbow-like color shimmering in front. He stared at it, giving it a blank emotionless expression.
"You're the one who was asking for it, with thoughts like that."
"Shush you," thought Hephaestus.
"Will you accept this message?" asked a breezy voice.
He smiled at the voice. While the air shimmering may not have seemed to be anything more, he had come to know precisely who this was. The Goddess of the rainbow, Iris. Unlike Hermes, who belied physical messages for everyone, Iris was very selective in who she helped. Her manipulation of her domains was nothing short of extraordinary, allowing her to transmit messages in real time no matter the distance or dimension…well within reason supposedly. She didn't offer her services much to anyone at all, making her talents obscure even to the likes of Zeus.
Though, as it turned out, her selectiveness had more to do with Nemesis' own meddling than Iris' own decision. The more he learned about his adversary, the less it made sense. One moment a figure of justice, the next an agent of discord, and with Iris just a flat out bitch.
"The worst part of it all," muttered Styx, "is that she really is just that spiteful."
He focused his attention back to the shimmering colors, nodding.
"I will Iris, thank you."
A different voice echoed back though.
"Hephaestus, I've received your…gift."
The air shimmered, creating a visual of Hecate. She was dressed less conservatively, her own physique open to see. Accompanied with a chiton and a veil, her own hair a luscious shimmering dark green. The chiton was woven with ghostly fabric, the light illuminating her curves and dusky skin.
"I can see that," he stated, "what do you think?"
She turned, revealing a blob of ash suspended in a variety of mystical circles and sigils.
"They're constructs, though not woven ones."
"Oh?"
"They're born spontaneously from sparks of divinity. Emotions given form through raw power."
It took him a moment to decipher what she was talking about.
"So they're not purposely made?"
"No. Think of them as echoes of whatever had passed through the area."
Ah, that. The lingering remnants of divinity left behind. Most became flowers or strange phenomena and were short-lived.
Well, usually.
"The energy that I can decipher from these creatures is rather unstable. Whatever conjured these creatures is young, recently formed."
"So a newborn God?"
"...that I cannot say."
She swirled her hand, the sigils all shifting in form and color.
"The divinity is not too dissimilar to your own actually, in that it is intertwined with the nature of something else. Unlike you however, it is entirely mixed together. A singular indistinguishable signature."
"So a demigod?"
"No. This is something else."
"...so it's not human," he muttered.
"Not mortal," she corrected gently, "demigods can be born from a variety of species."
She looked aside.
"As some have been a little too keen on testing."
They both remembered the Demigod craze that started not a few years back. Suddenly Goddesses and Gods were just impregnating humans and other things out of the gate. Most were weak Hephaestus found, no stronger than the average mortal. Perhaps a predisposition to certain talents, but nothing overtly superhuman.
Though that had more to do with parentage than general weakness. Far as he could tell, none of the more powerful gods had sired children. Not even Achilles had been born yet.
"You know quite a bit about this," he smiled, "something you wish to share?"
A scoff accompanied the wave of her hand.
"I've already had the pleasure of inducting a demigod to my ranks. They too differ from you in the same way. A mixture, rather than a combination. Something new, rather than two."
She smirked a bit.
"I already know that Apollo and Athena have been studying you. I can offer you far more information…for a price."
"Oh," he smiled, "and that price would be?"
"At my discretion."
"Tempting," drawled Hephaestus, "but I'll refrain for now. Are you able to send the results to me?"
"Oh I can."
"...but I'll need to stop by myself," he chuckled.
"I can't make it easy for you. Besides, I am interested in understanding these demigods more. Did you know they attract monsters just by virtue of their scent?"
He blinked, staring at her aghast. That was a horrible thing. It meant that normal humans were more in danger than ever.
"What?"
"I'm still studying the full scope of this, but from what I can garner, demigods allow monsters to feed on divine energy without imploding. Their body excretes this scent naturally, like sweat. Once monsters catch it, they'll become ravenous for it, focusing a mindless pursuit into a hunt."
"They get stronger if they succeed." he muttered.
"Somewhat, yes. It's why her mother left her in my care when she turned her twelfth summer not last year."
"I thought most Demigods were weak?"
A mischievous eye made him sigh. Great seems the first wave of proper demi-gods has been born. If they were anything like EMIYA's memories, then they were all super powerful nutjobs just waiting to explode.
"...today has been rather informative," he muttered.
Hecate chuckled, her hair bouncing at the mirth her eyes showed.
"You need not worry. Your divinity is of a different sort than this. Demigods are…diluted in a sense. You are not. The scent you offer is unique. Though…if you want to be sure."
He smirked, bowing.
"Till next time, my lady. If you need my expertise, just call."
"Oh I will. You handled the chimera wonderfully."
He remembered that day. A genuine chimera had been born a couple of years ago and was terrorizing the land outside of Hecate's island. He had slain the beast at her request, using a special spear that she had enchanted to keep the corpse around.
An enchantment that he got to memorize thanks to said encounter.
He couldn't help but ask though as he stared at her, raising his hand to stop her from waving her fingers through the message.
"Circe?" he asked, "What has become of her?"
The jovial nature turned cold instantly, her tone more business-like, clinical.
"...we're still in our process. Many of my apprentices are debating her role in breaking our laws and her supporters drag their feet. As a Goddess, she is afforded protections my mortal apprentices do not have."
"It has been an intricate web," she murmured, "though, it still benefits me."
He found the way her eyes narrowed playfully entrancing, smiling with her as she shrugged helplessly.
"Her followers are not aware they are revealing themselves with this ploy. I've already ensnared their mistress long ago. I will be banshing her, in truth. I've found a suitable island for her and her cohorts. Now, it's just a matter of making sure I know who exactly is being banished and how many. It's far more time-consuming than I would like."
She seemed entirely airy to Hephaestus, as if she didn't have a care in the world. Yet, he knew there was hurt. That her soured relationship with Circe was eating at her. Still, it ultimately wasn't his business, but that didn't mean he couldn't bring some reprieve.
"I can tell. Would you like me to drop off more of Dionysus' wine when I come?"
The man kept throwing his drinks at him as if Hephaestus was a drunk. The leftover barrels he had were excellent trading goods though.
"Oh, a rather intriguing idea. Is the young God attempting to get me drunk?"
He ruefully smiled, giving her the same helpless shrug. Hecate gave a shallow, throaty chuckle, the air shimmering away.
He looked around. He really should go home, truthfully. Yet…he just couldn't contain himself. He sat down, cross-legged, and closed his eyes. Within moments, he was within his inner reality, smiling at the sight.
It was still shifting. Looking more like a savanna, there were pockets of thick and lush woods, sparse between open plains filled with swords. He turned, smirking at the mountain in the distance.
The world shifted and he was already inside the volcano. It was sparse of any materials. Just an anvil surrounded by molten lava. But that was alright, this was not a normal forge by any measure. This was his authority given shape, his divinity represented in his reality marble.
It proved to be the greatest forge, one of the mind. He could conjure anything he liked here in concept, then build in reality. Some of his more outlandish creations required materials he simply didn't have, by virtue of his reality marble. Any material that was required to create the almost uncountable number of noble phantasms was present in this world.
He could in theory brute force it into reality, said materials, but he found that they had a half life. It was the main problem with black adamantite. It was strong, durable, and capable…but the very slight imperfections in the tracing of his materials made it where it wasn't as powerful as it could be.
It was minute really. If it were a percentage, it would be less than 0.01%. In truth, even if he had found true adamantite in reality, it would have resulted in the same thing. Yet, that single less than a percent difference clung to him, drilling into him that it wasn't good enough.
So he restarted, mastering the materials he had on hand and knew he could acquire to create entirely new prosthetics. What had once been a quick replacement had turned into a project years in the making. Still, his reality marble allowed him to effectively create and recreate in record time over and over again his original creations. He was still adding the skills and methods of creation from all his noble phantasms to memory, a more time-consuming process than expected.
Still, it held its benefits, his smile growing as he stared at his newest project.
Hovering above the anvil were two ghostly white legs, intertwined with black metal. He felt the air shimmer beside him, Styx blinking as she looked around.
"Back here again?" she asked.
"I am. I want to finalize my vision for these before I attempt to craft it."
He lost his smile as she gave him a judgmental stare.
"What?"
"You've been saying that for years. The legs are good enough, are they not?"
"I plan to ensure that they are the best I can possibly make them," said Hephaestus, "Until I have that surety, the MK. 2 remains in planning."
She rolled her eyes.
"Then stop getting distracted with different projects, hmm?"
He looked away, not wanting to admit she might have a point. His current limbs were freshly repaired, so there was no immediate concern, but over the years, his power has only grown and with it, the instability of his legs.
They burned out faster than he would like, but they functioned for what he needed. Yet, the newer edition would be better equipped to handle the fluctuation in energy. He scowled, his current legs already showing signs of cracking. He sighed, reaching down to–
"OH just build the damn thing!"
He jumped, staring at Styx. Her eyes were alight, staring at him.
"You'll just build better ones eventually, and you're hating your current ones. Just replace it and fix the problem again when it comes up. Honestly, you have the time, you're immortal!"
He blinked and rubbed his jaw. She had a point.
"Perhaps they are due for a real test."
He turned to Styx.
"Are the others free?"
Styx just swooshed away, disappearing outside his little forge.
He could feel them, all five of them and with that, he left.
He awoke in reality, rushing off to his home. His frantic pace made the nymphs all google and the forests spirits sigh. He was at it again, it would seem. In moments, he was at his door, almost ripping it off the hinges. He was collecting ores into his hands, even some handheld tools that he had made, and was prepping to go back into his reality marble with them. This time, in full. Not merely a projection of consciousness, but a full genuine deployment.
Though…there had been a bit of a snag with that.
He placed each of the ores on the floor inside his home, the tools put aside, ready to go. He took a breath, blades appearing around him. They shuddered into his wooden floor, but did not pierce the wood. Instead, where they inserted begun to spread blue lines, much like the circuits of his old body.
His eyes opened, the golden glow almost searing to look at.
"I Am The Bone Of My Sword!"
The world shivered. Hephaestus lost all senses, gritting his teeth in concentration. It was like a rabid bull, frantically trying to rip from his grip.
"Steel is my body and fire is my blood."
The cracks of his body glowed. What had once been crimson now was alight an ethereal rich blue. The crack splintered at his heart, the blue glowing even further.
"I have created over a thousand blades!"
His voice caught in his throat, his ability to make further words was twisted, jaggedly caught in his throat. It had one final pull-up from his grip, he instead wrested control.
His divinity surged here, brute forcing the methods of his reality marble. Light exploded, gears and fire spewing forth. When his eyes opened, he was there, in full. In his world once more.
The physicality of his reality marble was sharper than any wanderings of his inner thoughts. He felt it, the wind and the sand. The sky and heat. If within his mind he was weightless, here there was resistance and strength. Yet…he was incomplete.
The words that came so easily to EMIYA caught in his throat. He knew why, though. He could see it in his world, its own incomplete state. Forests and deserts, savannas in between. He attributed it to his divine nature that he was even able to use this reality marble as is, which had the experience brought forth by EMIYA.
He remembered a sordid memory, a time when Archer had been reduced to a class card of all things for someone to install.
He smiled, the words would come with time, one day.
"Welcome back."
Styx was there, garbed in her usual grey toga. Her hair flowed behind her. Her river shimmered with the same colors as the night sky.
"Need help?"
The ores around his feet shimmered as they were lifted by Styx's divinity. She followed him, staring at his back.
"Is it that interesting," he muttered, a smirk in his smile.
"I'm just happy you're finally removing those god awful legs."
"What is so horrible about them?"
"Hephaestus, they dig into your limbs, or what's left of them."
"They're designed to," he said.
The metal was flush to his skin, though he could see why the slightly reddened skin may seem painful to others. He wasn't sure where she got the idea that his new limbs would be better in that regard.
They moved in silence after that, though it wasn't a long journey. Here he was free to move like the centaurs, bending space as he walked. The base of the mountain was reached in moments. He walked through the archway that had been placed within the volcano and emerged into his true forge.
The entire space within it held countless tools and hammers. Mundane and mechanical. Every tool that had been used to create his armory in their history, was displayed here.
It was to his eyes only, to the likes of Styx and the others it would seem barren, save for the black anvil in the center. The space would bend and twist as he needed it. Shifting to what he needed as he needed it.
As a personal joke, the cotton candy machine was placed near the entrance of his forge. He still mentally chuckled at the peculiar expression as Styx and the others would stare at it, wondering what it was for.
Apparently they thought it was a smelter, somehow. It was adorably funny.
"They're all here. I think this is the first time you're using our rivers in your process."
"So don't disappoint," he chuckled.
She smiled, looking at him.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing child, be as you were."
She shimmered away and Hephaestus lumbered forward. She didn't question why he wanted her out of this location, for after all the creation of his newest limbs required a tool that was the mightiest he could conjure.
A divine tool. A divine hammer. His symbol of power. It had haunted him for months what he would make and how. What avenues did he have available to him, what materials. No matter what he did the resulting tool would be ill prepared for handling the fluctuations of his power.
Some shuddered, others splintered, and the rare few were brittle. Adamantium was strong but restricted the flow of his power.
It vexed him for months, until inspiration struck him and the answer was found.
It was why he sent her away. She would never understand.
After all? Was he not the bone of his sword?
The hammer lay on top of the anvil, a metallic grey. A metallic sheen covered the beautiful artisan hammer. The head was flat and flowed into a back that was shaped into a pike. It was a thin hammer, misleading in its strength. Yet, as he held it in his hands, it shimmered a fiery blue as every ounce of his power flowed seamlessly into it.
It should after all, for the hammer had been made from his own bones. The entire hammer was transmuted from his left leg, malformed into a metallic substance and reshaped into this very hammer.
To invoke his reality marble into his severed limb was a harder prospect than he had given it credit for, but it was ready now. He gripped it, the metal steady in his hands. The bone that made up the core of his divine tool was wreathed in a metal sheet. The properties adapted in real time to whatever he required, the shape ever forming.
He knew she wouldn't understand why he needed it. Why he needed to forgo any instance of his past weakness. Yet, in this hammer lay the ability for him to forgo any limitations on his tools.
He smiled, the hammer shifting its head and width to accommodate near any task. A hammer, a hammer eye drift, and of course a chisel. The crimson chisel that had been driven into Phelegetheon had been formed within his new symbol of power, its ability to sear divinity into any substance a boon for his crafting.
It did little to enhance its power. Instead, it was more that the hammer sheathed the chisel than integrated it.
A breath and his focus sharpened. The past had no place here nor the future, only the now. To his right, a large crucible shimmered. He pointed his hand, a torrent of flame screaming into the kiln, contained within by his divinity.
He placed the metal within the crucible, separating it into equal pieces. He would pull each billet out, hammering it to lengthen it with each strike. Each blow echoed throughout his world. He didn't need to worry about time or heat, as he was able to maintain this by virtue of his own abilities.
He took a hardened sheet of metal, placing it in the middle of his white adamantite alloy, a few strikes and it was split in half. He did this for each half, until he was working with a small rectangular chunk. The rest were placed in the crucible to maintain the temperature.
The first layer was a circular piece. The hammer did way to the crimson chisel, the tip smoking as it carefully created grooves into the metal. He followed instinct, his hands moving in sync with his divinity. The gaps in his knowledge were still apparent, but they would fill in time.
The first of the rivers was called Cocytus. The large woman, cold in demeanor, flowed in along with her river from the east. The mountain shivered, an opening formed as it poured through, circling around his anvil.
Her waters of lamentations flowed from his leg, up his back, and across his arm. As it flowed it picked up pieces of his divinity, crystalizing it as it flowed into the grooves. What had once been merely sigils of power and been amplified even further, crystalized into a state that would not melt, at least not by his power.
The large shapes were all done this way. Each individual component of his leg down to the very foot all followed this methodology. Unlike his previous set, he decided to add greater strength this time around, hence he needed the next river. In the north, the river Styx flowed. Each piece was heated to the highest temperature he could manage.
Mortal metals would vaporize at this heat and yet he still climbed higher. Styx averted her eyes, the flames turning a searing blue with a tinge of white. Hephaestus' body sweated at the exertion of his maximum.
Her river was waxed like the night sky, shimmering away with countless specks of power. He knelt down from the anvil, a workbench shimmering beside him. He dipped the first metal using a pair of tongs that his hammer transformed into. Styx shivered a bit, the feeling of the heat a strangely pleasant feel.
The metal was quenched and the once blinding white metal became steel grey. His eyes glowed, smiling at the properties of the metal. Just as anticipated. The crystalline structure was also enhanced, bringing greater flexibility in the transference of power…though it wasn't perfect.
For heat treatment, a second river joined the fray. Phelegetheon flowed in, her flames a similar azure to his current own. He gave her each quenched piece, the heat of their combined power bringing it to a malleable state again.
However, it was left to cool. Phelegetheon absorbed the heat, transferring it back to her river, slowly dissipating to treat the metal further.
This was done several times, with each piece being heated and hammered again as necessary. Yet, impurities would stand. Styx and Phelegetheon were removed, leaving the last of the two rivers, Acheron and Lethe.
She still didn't appear before him, but her river was all he truly needed. With Acheron, he was able to isolate the impurities that still remained in each piece of his newest creation, just as she would absorb the deepest regrets of those that washed in her river.
It wasn't perfect, but it would do. It was like a chemical reaction bubbling on the surface of each metallic piece.
A burst of flame and a dry cloth and they were ready for the final step. A dip in the river Lethe. Lethe was different from each river in that what it invoked was less a strengthening and more of a forgetting.
Alteration. The ability to add effects to objects that didn't have them before. Hear, his voice timbered, echoing his divinity to add flexibility to what was once rigid, transference to that which was once unassailable.
Reinforcement was the last point, his divinity filling in what gaps he could not yet reach and strengthening the metal to its apex. He surged his divinity as far as it could go in this instance. Once it was at its peak, he dipped it into the river.
The truth of the matter was that reinforcement and alteration, in theory, had no time limitations. Though, like anything with magic and science, that had less to do with an immovable rule and more to do with expected circumstances. Disruptions to the item could break reinforcement and alteration. Magic that dispelled enchantments and other such effects would affect it as well. Not all, but enough.
So, he made it forget. Made it forget there was ever an original state. If Styx was a hardening of the metal that Lethe was a permeance of the enchantments. With it, even the strongest dispellment could not shatter his magic, for there was no original to invoke…in theory, this item was this way and only this way and dispellsments would futter out uselessly.
Either that or it would turn to dust, who knows.
He sighed, shrugging off the chiton he wore from his sweltering skin. He still felt like he could go twelve rounds with Herakles, yet his heart was hammering in his chest. His hands moved quickly, his divinity working in conjunction, as each part was slotted into the other. Strands of pure magic shimmered to life as each rune worked on the items functioned flawlessly. He sat on the Anvil, removing his left leg.
There was no grimace as metal separated from flesh. Much like his previous design, his new limb opened at the mouth of the prosthetic, the strands of magic connected with each nerve. The innards of the metal were softened slightly, slinking shut to flow seamlessly from skin to leg.
The right was given this same treatment and when he stood on his own created feet, he felt pride. The color was a little gaudy to be sure, but that could always be painted over.
He could feel the minute difference in how it moved and responded. It was just as responsive, but the metal moved seamlessly, the gears within it helping to lessen the strain. What had once been just flat gears had been replaced with a helical design. A small change, ultimately, but one that induced lesser strain.
The enchantments and metal were also designed to handle great impacts and heat. More importantly, the vents.
His forcibly flowed ambient divinity into his legs, for a moment they heated up, before the back and sides of the calves vented the heat with a burst of a mechanism, the venting system flaring out and outright ejecting a torrent of flame.
He had managed to induce a mechanical variant of mana burst. It wasn't perfect, but this would increase his mobility with the technique.
Instead of launching off his foot, he could induce more natural movements into how he used mana burst. All in all, it was what one would call a success. He exited the volcano, smiling at the group of women that…
"Is that my old leg?" muttered Hephaestus.
Phelegetheon smiled away, hugging the limb with a strange faraway look on her eye. Her chest pulsated a vicious purple as she hugged the one limb tighter.
"She's…absorbing the pain that it has," muttered Acheron distastefully, "a process I wish she'd do elsewhere."
Hephaestus blinked, his expression diluting into one of ill-disguised contempt.
"...right," he muttered.
He gave the best smile he could, nodding to each.
"Thank you for your help, truly. I will make arrangements with you in the future for your involvement in future projects."
"Well, that is our payment for our stay here," mutters Cocytus.
Lethe was still invisible, hiding away in her river. Styx only nodded, that strange small smile on her face. The flaming river was still weird and Acheron just started weeping about his pitiful self again. He waved good-eye. It was like releasing tension with a breath, his reality marble fluttering out.
"There you are!"
He spun around, a blade in hand. It clanged loudly against a caduceus. Hermes grimaced a bit, shaking his hand as Hepahestus lowered his weapons.
"Alright, I kind of deserved that."
"How are you here?"
Hephaestus sighed,
"You're here with a message."
"Yup, more specifically, I'm here with a summons."
"A summons? I heard no such thing."
Summons were not something that could be missed. Though, he had deployed his reality marble in full, rather than just meandering through it in his mind.
"Good to know," thought Hephaestus.
"I know you didn't," smirked Hermes, "wherever you went, it was completely blocked off. Be thankful for that, Zeus isn't patient with people that purposely ignore him."
Hermes pursed his lips, eyeing his gleaming legs with ill-hidden greed.
"Nice legs, by the way, are they new?"
Hephaestus looked down, noting the almost maniacal look Hermes gave them.
"I'm not making you a new pair of greaves."
"Oh come on!" muttered the speedster, "there's a sense of style to these, you know! At least redesign them."
"Pay me and I will."
Hermes crossed his arms.
"Didn't have to pay Skilros," he muttered.
He wilted just a tad, the stone-like look drilling him to the spot.
"I'm not Skilros."
"I can see that."
There was a silence between them, one he broke with an eyeroll.
"Alright, let's get this over with. I keep forgetting you can't teleport with me, I had to rush back here to get you."
He gripped the speedster on the shoulder and the two dispersed. Moving with Hermes was different. There was no sense of transition at all. The sense of time that existed between one moment and the next was erased by Hermes outright, so great was his momentum. It was what made moving with him almost vomit-inducing, even though Hermes protected his body with his domains.
Yet, there was no denying Hermes' effectiveness. For he was before the council once more.
This was the third meeting in the last several years. They all towered above him, as they usually did.
He didn't see the point in it, finding the difference to be more annoying than grandiose. He moved to his throne, jumping up to stand in the massive seat as always.
It was still a comical look, though the divinity he excluded freely now ensured no one laughed.
He nodded to Athena, as he always did at these meetings. She nodded back, her owl giving an excited shiver. Ifrit sat on Hephaestus' shoulder, eyeing the owl with a weary eye.
Demeter smiled, giving her own nod in his direction. Hades, of all peopl,e was also present, his helm covering any expression on his face. Artemis and Apollo were like night and day, though both positive.
Apollo was bright, giving him the same sun wide smile he always did. His skin had darkened a hue, taking on a more tanned coloration. His hair was still the same golden blonde, falling around his shoulders now in the same princely curls.
Artemis had lighter skin, more Nordic in a way. Her own hair was a deep auburn, tied up in a braid that she wore over her shoulder. Her smile may have been small, but it was no less genuine than her brother's.
Ares merely looked at him, before focusing back on Zeus. Every meeting, Zeus greeted everyone with a smile. This time though…his face was grave. He hid it with a smirk, but there was a sense of worry to him that was never seen till now.
"We are all here now brother…baring one's tardiness?" joked Poseidon.
"My apologies. I had become embroiled in a new project and lost track of time," said Hephaestus.
Athena blinked.
"Your prosthetics are new," she stated, "improved as well."
No one else cared, save for Apollo in a medical sense, so the meeting went without further questions.
"There has been a…development. One, I am unsure of. As we all know, the realms beneath our feet have been quaking," said Zeus, "and for once, it is not Poseidon's fault."
His joke fell on deaf ears, so he cleared his throat.
"Anyway. The divinity that I've sensed houses immense power. I plan to investigate the details and report back."
Hermes blinked.
"Father, I think I'm best suited for that?"
He smiled at his son.
"Perhaps you'd be right. Forgive me son, but I don't want to risk you or anyone in our family over a possibility."
He grinned, his arrogance dripping in the room. It was a bittersweet mixture of demeaning and well-intentioned words.
"I am the strongest. It is best that I go and ensure the safety of you all. If I need help, I'll be sure to call."
Poseidon sighed, his anger growing.
"Since you are so…strong brother, why call this meeting? Just check this thing you are so worried about and be done with it?"
He nodded, this time to Athena. She rose, standing to position herself in the middle.
"...dear?" asked Zeus, "why are you…small?"
She stared up at everyone. While ghastly tall for a human, she was very much a mortal's stature, like Hephaestus himself. Even with her comparatively diminutive state, her voice still echoed clearly.
"It is redundant to be so large. I find it useless. That is all."
Athena didn't scowl, but some parts of her hair brightened to blonde for a moment at Aphrodite's smug smile.
"I believe that this is a coordinated effort."
Athena narrowed her eyes, everyone staring at her with tight expressions. Ares rose, rolling his shoulders as he shimmered down to Athena's height.
"I've been sniffing around," he grumbled, "found a few gods plotting, as they always do."
Hephaestus blinked. This was a first, though to be fair, he had been focused entirely on Lemnos and Nemesis.
Athena shimmered, her form splintering as a streak of blonde entered her hair again. It disappeared rapidly, making Hephaestus blink.
"What was that about?" he thought.
"Ares, please wait until I am finished," she said politely.
"Taking too long," he muttered. There was blood in his voice, a lust for battle. He grinned, staring at his father and the others. His eyes roamed the room along with his smile.
"The minor gods are trying to overthrow us, again. Apparently they think this…thing will be enough to leave Olympus open. They plan to strike soon."
"How soon?" smirked Poseidon, "they can barely handle Zeus much less all of us?"
"Barely? Try not at all brother!"
Hades sighed, gesturing for his nephew and niece to continue.
"The details of their plan is relatively unknown," she said, "but we know they plan to use whatever is the source of these disturbances in some way. I know that has gone poorly, but they seem confident it can be directed."
"Hence," smirked Zeus, "why I'm going. The faster we deal with this, the faster we can remind them of why they are there in the first place."
"You'd think after the fifth rebellion they'd be done with it all," sighed Demeter.
"It's a family tradition at this point," snickered Hermes.
"They state they miss the Titans, but who were the ones that rallied behind us speaking of oppression and freedom?"
Hephaestus sighed, watching what should have been an important meeting reduce to the usual petty bickering. He gave Athena a consoling smile. Her expression was blank as always, but the owl had a puffy and angry expression. It was adorable. It ruffled its feathers back down, sputtering the wind out.
Zeus seemed to bask in it all, as if this was his family that he was so proud of. It was a little sad to him, how happy Zeus was about it all.
"Then again," thought Hephaestus, "am I much better?"
How would he react if Hera would look at him with love? He didn't rightly know, nor did he like the feeling of not knowing.
He shuddered a bit, feeling the static build as Zeus rose up, his body began to crackle with electricity.
"I'll be back," he smirked.
Hermes was pure speed, but Zeus was no slouch. He could feel the way that he tore through the skies, the wind wailing behind him to fill the minute space he left behind. They all sat there for a few moments.
It must have been ten minutes later that Hera sat straighter, though it was strange to Hephaestus. There was a knowing look between Poseidon and Hera for a brief moment. Then they all started to leave. The older Gods that was, the others his…age group all centered to the middle of their throne room.
He hopped from his throne, nodding to Hermes, Apollo, and Ares, who approached. They had all reduced to their more human size, thankfully. Ares crossed his arms, his dark hair messy across his blood red eyes. He smirked, nodding at him.
"Brother."
Apollo looked between them, growing uncomfortable at the strange silence between them. Hermes was holding in his laughter at the annoyed expression Hera held as she remained in her throne.
"Wait," thought Hephaestus.
The thought broke as Apollo smiled.
"So you finally took my advice and fixed your legs!"
He kicked the metallic limb, the hollow ringing making him frown.
"Hey, we talked about this," whispered Apollo, "I can't heal what isn't there."
"I've told you, there is no healing them."
He said it simply, already knowing the truth of it. Thankfully Apollo was silenced as his sister grabbed him by the hair. She was quite rough in all honesty, but they were Gods.
She turned to him, her head tilted up a bit at his height.
"Hephaestus. I trust that things are well?"
"They are. Though, the earthen beasts I come across have become more numerous."
"I know," she sighed, "I've been hunting them myself in the open territories."
Ares grunted, his knuckles cracking as his fists closed.
"They're annoying. Spreading like roaches."
The owl flew across the room, landing on Hephaestus' other shoulder, Ifrit looking away as the owl chirped at her.
"Hello again," he muttered.
Hermes blinked, shivering slightly as Aphrodite flowed beside him. They looked at each other as Athena moved towards them. She was graceful in a purposeful sort of way. Her storm grey eyes were wide open, analyzing everything around her to the most minute detail. She tilted her head, staring at Ifrit.
Aphrodite just gave a small smile, nodding at Hephaestus. He didn't know what she was on about.
"Athena."
"Hephaestus."
She stared at her owl. It still didn't have a name.
"Come."
She frowned slightly at the way her divine animal stayed rooted in place. Yet, her face blinked as Ifrit cawed, flapping her wings to Athena. A strange understanding seemed to form as Ifrit rested on the spear that she kept at the ready. The prongs on her spear, like a flag bearer, became the perfect roost for the flaming bird.
The poor owl cooed sadly. Smiling as Hephaestus rubbed his crest.
"It is his own fault," muttered Athena, "he must learn to give space to others."
The poor bird deflated.
"It's adorable how he's obsessed with Ifrit though," smirked Hermes.
Yet, Athena did not rise to it. If anything she seemed to grow more annoyed.
"His obsession is with everyone. He's…oddly affectionate."
That was an understatement. At first, he had assumed the owl was seeking…affection from Ifrit, romantic even. Imagine his surprise when the bird was like an extrovert on steroids instead.
For months, the bird fluttered around him, dutifully asking for pets and affection. It was the single most stubbornly adorable thing he had ever witnessed in his life. Especially when it shrunk to a near baby-like size with those big eyes. He had been a popular visitor for the children when he visited with Athena.
Though, the parents were not so enthused when the kids began hunting for owls in the woods. Especially Elwin.
"That poor boy," thought Hephaestus with a sigh.
Elwin had healed thankfully. Well, mostly.
Aphrodite raised her arm and the owl dutifully moved to her. Athena's eyes widened, her hair flickering to blonde at the sight of her divine animal cooing in bliss at the affection of the Goddess of love.
"Oh, you're a beautiful bird, aren't you?" she cooed.
She turned expectantly to Ifrit, but pouted at the blank look. She turned, a dreamy smile on her face, a small mole in the corner of her mouth.
"Hephaestus,"
"I'm not telling Ifrit to do anything. She is her own bird."
She wilted visibly, bristling both Ares and Hermes. Ares was threatening, Hermes was…well the scowl looked more in line with an angsty teen pouting than a genuine threat.
He shrugged at them. Ifrit wasn't a pet that could just be cuddled.
To add insult to injury, Ifrit returned to his shoulder, going as far to shrink a little to bask her head into his neck. Athena's overly affectionate owl finally got the message and moved on. He hated to admit the way his heart ached at the sight of the forlorn owl.
It fell into a small discussion amongst them, the pettiness of the moment forgotten. Here they were, the youngest generation of the Olympians. He basked in the conversation, but not for pleasure or enjoyment. It was paranoia. He looked around the throne room, making sure to avoid eye contact with the biggest outlier in the room.
Hera.
Why was she still here? She was silent, sitting on her throne. Her attention was elsewhere, yet…still she was here.
For that matter, where the hell did the others go? It may not have been a formal order by any stretch of the imagination, but Zeus made it clear that they were meant to stay together until he got back. After all, why would the younger generation stay in the centre?
Hades, Demeter, Poseidon, and even Hestia were nowhere to be found. Hestia at least had an excuse, but the others?
"Apollo," he whispered.
The god blinked, staring at him. He gestured slightly to Hera and the space around them distorted slightly.
"You really need to learn to do this," smirked Apollo.
"You can teach me later," he muttered.
Apparently, even as a God his mystical control was rather…shit. He remembered the way Ares tried to teach him to bless something. The poor animal had exploded into meaty chunks. His brother of course died laughing, literally, his human form choking to death. He'd normally direct this to him truthfully, if not for Ares love for their…his mother.
"Where is everyone?"
It was a question that silenced the conversation between them all. They all looked around. An oppressive aura slithered across the room, all turning to Hera.
"What's the meaning of this?" demanded Athena.
Hephaestus turned to look at the walls, his eyes glowing.
"Her divinity has bubbled us."
He drew a spear, one that was coloured red. Ares blinked, staring at it. He threw it watching helplessly as it passed through the divine bubble. Hepahestus clicked his tongue. He had hoped that it being constructed out of his own divine mana would have enhanced the properties of Gae Dearg to counter divinity. It would appear that Hecate was more magically inclined than he had initially assumed.
Hera's eyes were cold, but there was an underlying sense of worry to her. Ares scowled.
"Something's happened to Father. He should have been back already."
Ares raised his leg and slammed his foot into the floor. His eyes screamed of blood and war, his own energy ravaging everything around him. It distorted everything. It was moments like this that reminded Hephaestus why Ares was Zeus' key enforcer. Athena was really the only Goddess that had a hard counter to this particular power.
"HELP ME!"
It thundered across the throne room, the voice of their king all to apparent.
"I NEED HELP! WHY…I need…"
He felt his blood run cold. He immediately turned to leave and was blasted off his feet for it.
He wasn't harmed, it being more like a strong shove of pure telekenetic power.
"No one is going anywhere," said Hera, "Zeus has already failed, we need to consolidate and prepare for the worst."
He stared at her, the sound of his heart hammering in his chest.
"But father is–"
"Ares!" said Hera, "you know that there is little point in saving him. Whatever is strong enough to harm him already has him. The minor gods are converging here. Part of their plan, must be," she muttered.
Hepahestus got back up…and dashed out. She scowled, her brow furrowing deeper as her divinity was pushed back by his own.
"Foolish," she muttered, "you are weaker than Zeus Hephaestus, there's nothing you can do. Stay here, that is an order."
He stopped, turning to look at her.
"..."
He seemed to struggle with his words, before settling on them.
"Eat a crow."
It was the closest to fuck you that he thought she'd understand. Considering the way Ares stared at him aghast, he must have been pretty spot on.
She blinked.
"Did…did you just, HOW DARE YOU!?"
Hephaestus looked to the others, frowning at the way they remained where they were. They were scared. For all that they looked like adults, they were at most teenagers really. Well, most of them. Their father was the strongest being in the Greek Pantheon (sort of). To hear that he was losing, calling for help…it must be shaking them to their very cores.
That wasn't his problem to bear though.
"You have a habit of abandoning others," said Hephaestus, "I refuse to do the same. Zeus has called for help…I will answer."
He jumped up. Before Hera could stop him, Ifrit wrapped him up in her wings, rocketing away. She tried to speak, but the words collapsed in her throat. Every argument she could think of, a small piece of her questioned herself. Like always, it was crushed. Perfection was needed at every moment, especially now.
She turned to Athena, the girl's hair a swirl of blonde and obsidian.
"Athena."
There was no expression on her face, but she seemed to relax at the distraction, her hair inking back to black.
"The minor Gods are attempting to invade," she sighed, "meet them at the door along with Ares."
Athena nodded, moving to greet them. Zeus' child was at least militant enough to understand that now was not the time to rush for her father's rescue, not with something needing their immediate attention.
She stared at her son, how he kept twitching.
"He is far too close to Hephaestus," she thought.
It aggravated her, the way the two gravitated to each other. She was the goddess of marriage, but her sight offered more than just romantic bonds. The two didn't even realize it yet, but the bond between them developed. She hated that sense of trust that existed between them with barely a few words.
Especially as it reared its head now. Ares attempted to disperse, going to follow his brother.
"Ares."
It was a simple word. Her son turned to her. She kept her facade, even as her heart broke at this. Ares loved his father…forcing him to choose was a heartbreaking decision for the boy.
So she made the choice for him.
"You will go east. Athena cannot hold off all of the minor gods alone."
Her dutiful son. Her obedient son. Her conflicted son. She had to keep her expression calm at the way he actually considered going against her. Thankfully, he relented. His emotions about it mattered little to her.
She refused for the Titan's reign to begin anew. The memory of their father's stomach was far too horrific to even remember. Zeus never understood, always being so aggravatingly close to them, always trying to smother Hera and her siblings in his stupid emotions. Opening his core to them, swearing to them that he would "never lie" like the Titans did. He was a naive fool. A powerful fool. A fool who had bitten off more than he could chew in his arrogance.
His children however, looked to her for guidance, their own fear a mirror to her own.
"Help."
She ignored the weaker cry for help. The way his voice shuddered. The way her heart turned against her. She needed to be cold. For she knew for a fact that the Titans must be behind this. A final resurgence…right?
They must be.
-With Zeus-
Where were they? This was the thought that kept echoing in Zeus' mind. His family. The family that he had protected and saved. Where were they?
SLAM!
A large bony fist broke into his body yet again, sapping at his divinity once more. Every blow was more than just a physical hit. Every point of contact drained him entirely, left him feeling weak, useless.
On the eastern coast of what would eventually become the province of Catania in modern Sicily, Zeus was being pummeled by a divine monster. The king of monsters. Typhon itself.
It was a laughable concept not that long ago. The idea that monsters could be divine in nature. There were rumors of course, some nonsense about a snake or some such. Yet, this was different. It was like Typhon was purpose-built to kill Gods. The only saving grace that Zeus had was the overwhelming power he had in comparison to normal gods. Without it, he would have likely died in just a few hits.
They should be here.
SLAM!
SLAM!"
Two more blows, his body bloodied and weak. The form of Typhon kept shifting, settling as most gods did when newly born. It seemed to shift from a colossal behemoth, spewing lava, to a tentacled monstrosity that spewed blood that was black. What few injuries he was able to inflict only caused it to bleed, creating monsters from the point its blood hit the ground or oceans.
In the pit of his despair, Zeus called out one last time.
"Help…me."
No one answered…and that despair turned to rage. As the creature picked him up, its tentacles finding purchase at his hamstrings, it…smiled at him. Enjoyed his pain. As he prepared for the worst, he could only think of one thing. How his so-called family was going to–
"HRK!"
He was tackled out of the creature's hands, A flaming phoenix clawing at Typhon's hands. For the first time he heard the beast yell in pain as Typhon reared its hand away from the searing talons.
Zeus hung limply, staring incredulously at the face of Hephaestus as he was carried.
"Apologies for the delay, sir."
He was placed on the ground, in a seated position against a rocky surface. Ifrit was flying circles around Typhon, a temporary distraction at best. Hepahestus placed his hand on Zeus' chest and the king of thunder felt like he could breathe for the first time since this fight began.
He stared at the red-haired God. Not his child nor his sibling. He felt his strength return as Hephaestus gave him his divinity freely. It was a strain, trying to fill his strength with his own. Zeus knew that much. Hephaestus was certainly going to be a powerful God one day but he was an ocean compared to a planet. He stopped him, having gotten enough to rise to his feet under his own power. He couldn't say a thing, still just staring.
Hephaestus nodded, turning his back to Zeus.
"Rest, sir."
Fire spewed from the cracks of his skin, countless blades forming around him.
"I'll take it from here."
The beast roared, the very sound rumbling his heart against his chest. Hephaestus, calm and steady, glared at the beast. Its form settled, growing even larger. A serpentine giant, not unlike a lamia. Yet, its upper body held the muscle of a man with the head of a dragon, paired with massive draconic wings on its back. It had no scales, but instead was covered in what looked like volcanic rock. A second below and from the crevices of its body, spewed monsters.
His eyes narrowed further as hundreds of creatures spewed just from the challenge of this beast. What had once been one became many.
'...Well shit," muttered Hephaestus.