Chapter 87: Heracles Says “Damn It”
In the distant past, soone seized the wisdom of the gods and scattered it among humanity like sparks.
In the distant past, soone shattered the divine monopoly and allowed mortals to touch knowledge with their own hands.
That being was not Protheus.
Because Protheus was not human. He was a god, a machina deity, a descendant of the Titans who existed even before the Olympian gods seized dominion over Greece, an existence that predated Olympus.
When the Titan machina gods were defeated and replaced by the Olympian machina gods, their crowns torn away and their authority usurped, Protheus alone was not purged.
He was taken into Olympus instead.
Though he was a god, Protheus naturally leaned toward humanity, because the people of Greece had been “created” by his own hands. His damaged chanical body represented evolution and repair. The authority he bore as a conceptual god was precisely the transition of life from re beast to human.
The later tale that “Protheus created mankind” was not entirely wrong.
He loved humanity as a parent loves their child. Yet, up until then, he had never truly imagined that these children could live independently, that they might one day sever the chains tying them to the gods.
Until the King of Uruk extended his empire’s borders to the shores of the Aegean.
Until the Golden King carried the Sage’s story westward like a salt wind off the sea.
Only then did Protheus conceive the idea of stealing the heavenly fire.
That fire was not rely the fla that burned on altars. It was the fla of wisdom, of freedom, of self.
And in his heart, Rowe was the companion, the forerunner, the fellow traveler he imagined standing beside him.
Many tis over long ages, he had hoped to et that man, yet never could.
Until now, when a young man nad Heracles brought him that long-awaited news.
“But unfortunately,” Protheus said at last.
High upon the crag where the God King had chained him, the Titan bound to the jagged stone let out a sigh.
“Son of Zeus, you should know this. Without the permission of the God King, I cannot leave.”
“I know,” Heracles replied with a nod.
“But I ant what I said. Even if it is not now, one day, I will set you free.”
“Before that, though, I want you to teach sothing.”
Heracles raised his eyes.
“Teach wisdom.”
“I heard that you hold one of the clay tablets the Sage scattered across the earth.”
“If you want it, I can give it to you.”
Protheus paused, but did not look surprised.
“However, you must understand. Those who pursue wisdom will one day be forced to pay the price for it.”
“It doesn’t matter. Because I…”
Heracles smiled. At long last, he could finally say those words that had been lodged in his throat.
“Damn it, I don’t care.”
Protheus blinked.
Then he laughed.
“Exactly. That is how I was back then. That is why I stole the heavenly fire in the first place. You truly have t the Sage.”
He burst into hearty laughter, and the enormous Titan body bound in chains shook with mirth. The mountain itself trembled in response, as if it, too, rembered how to laugh.
The words were simple. Yet within those three short words, Protheus clearly heard the unshakable resolve of the young man nad Heracles.
To do what one has decided to do.
To damn the heavens and earth and still move forward. To damn it all and not care.
…
“It seems Athena has gone,” a soft voice murmured.
In the city-state of Athens, within the temple at its highest point, sheer veils hung lightly in the air, dust motes dancing in the shafts of sunlight.
A purple head cautiously peeked past the doorway and into the open hall.
“Sister, Athena just defeated Ares and gathered all the concepts of war. Of course she has to digest them now.”
“Sister, sister, what does ‘digest’ an?”
“…”
While they bickered, two slender figures followed the first girl into the temple.
They, too, had long, flowing purple hair and wore plain white dresses. Their exposed skin was pale and delicate beneath the drifting fabric, swaying like white lilies in a breeze with each motion.
Rowe walked behind them and stepped into the hall, his gaze sweeping quietly over the space.
“Wel… welco,” dusa whispered from his side.
The words had barely left her lips when she was imdiately seized upon.
“dusa, you’re secretly talking behind our backs again.”
“That is punishnt-worthy, you know.”
“I’m sorry.”
Rowe smiled at the exchange between the three “girls” who looked so alike.
They sounded strict, but both Stheno and Euryale obviously doted on dusa. In the sa way, dusa adored her elder sisters. Even if she looked a little timid, she knew they cared about her.
It was a simple, untainted affection that only three goddesses could share.
Rowe’s gaze wandered.
After the war, as the leading “hero” of Athens, he had naturally been invited here.
The marble hall was grand, its ceilings high and its expanse empty.
“Ah, looks like Athena isn’t here,” one of the sisters said.
“Then we’ll have to entertain you instead.”
“By the way, your na is Rowe, right?”
“He was invited by Athena, sister. You should call him Rowe.”
“Isn’t that what I just said, sister?”
The lively sisters traded lines back and forth, always spinning the conversation around dusa, never letting her stray far from them.
“Your bond is truly strong,” Rowe said at last, cutting in with a quiet sigh.
“Sister, he says we have a strong bond.”
“Sister, do you think our bond is strong?”
“Other people’s opinions are aningless.”
Rowe shook his head, interrupting their mirror-like rhythm a second ti.
“You should ask yourselves that question, not .”
“Why do you say hard-to-understand things, just like Athena?” Euryale muttered, displeased.
“Sister,” Stheno tugged lightly at her sleeve, “don’t say Athena’s na so casually inside the temple.”
She turned toward Rowe next.
“And also, Rowe, don’t treat us like children. We have lived for a very long ti.”
“Probably… a few hundred years?” Euryale added helpfully from the side.
“Then I apologize.”
Rowe’s tone was calm.
“I was born in Uruk. If we do the math… at least a thousand years have already passed.”
According to later human chronologies, the age of Gilgash lay around the 27th century BC, while the Greek Heroic Age fell roughly between the 13th and 12th centuries BC.
There was no mistake.
“It seems… that makes sense?”
Stheno started counting on her fingers.
“Then what should we call you?” Euryale’s eyes widened.
“To live that long and still fight Ares like that… are you really human?”
“The potential of humans is infinite.” Rowe’s expression did not change.
“Look at the present age. Even now, the gods rely on humans to fight their wars.”
“That… does seem to be true.”
The two sisters exchanged glances, recognizing the sa surprise reflected back at them, like children who had just discovered a new toy.
Only dusa, who always stayed quiet, appeared much calr.
She did not know why.
She only felt that, whenever Rowe looked at the three of them, there was a faint hint of pity in his eyes.
She could not comprehend it.
But she knew, at least, that it was not malice.
dusa instinctively returned kindness to those who showed it. That was why she had wanted to help him earlier.
Because such kindness was rare.
And also because there had been a ti when the three sisters had suffered and had been saved by a gentle figure.
That person had been like a dense, sheltering forest.
Rowe felt very similar to that person.
“All right. If you are tired, you should rest. I will stay here and wait for Athena to return.”
Rowe let his arms hang down, his linen robe draping over his entire fra. He scanned the hall once more, and this ti, his gaze finally ca to rest upon the statue at its very center.
“Okay.”
Stheno and Euryale shared a glance, then silently took dusa’s hands, one on each side.
“Co on, let’s go eat.”
“Sister, sister, this ti I want to eat that thing we had last ti.”
“No, this ti we should give it to dusa.”
“I really do not need it…”
“…”
Their clear, childish voices slowly receded into the distance, carried away on a gentle breeze that brought with it the scent of the Aegean and salt.
Rowe stood alone in the hall.
Then,
A sliver of moonlight slipped in at an angle.
He looked up at the sky, at the gradually quieting world, and seed to glimpse a soft, watchful figure.
Far above, the Moon Goddess Artemis looked down upon the earth, as if searching for sothing.
rry Christmas, everyone! 🎄✨
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