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Dusky clouds floated by and obscured parts of the sunset as the sun began to set across the horizon.
Hephaestus couldn’t remember the last time he saw such a natural sight.
These Mortal days, he found constant solace in his forge, not even leaving to eat. Royal suppers held little importance to him, and because no one argued with him, he stopped going. He only rose from the underbelly of Mount Olympus if an emergency occurred. That, or his mother forced him to watch his sister. The Queen hated young princess Hebe in those depths despite Hephaestus living there.
Yet today was a special day. Ares had finally reached the age of maturity, and his coronation began in mere Mortal minutes.
Hephaestus buzzed with excitement as he gazed out the window. He could only wonder how his elder brother felt. Nervous, Hephaestus reasoned, his smile softening as he relaxed in his chair. More than nervous. Terrified.
Today, Ares will become a prince. An Olympian.
“Beautiful evening, isn’t it?” A melodic voice sounded through the hallway. Hephaestus whipped his head to see his brother. Apollo stood straight-backed, hands behind his back. Golden cloth weaved around his body, matching with his crisp black trousers. His bright orchid eyes flashed with prominence, reminding Hephaestus of their father. He made himself resist a chill.
He stepped up to Hephaestus as the young smith replied, “It is.” The conversation dipped into a dense silence. Hephaestus struggled to find words for his younger brother as his fingers tangled. “So… how are your studies?”
“Well,” Apollo answered, his tone prickling Hephastus’s skin. He glanced at his brother, golden flecks in his eyes flashing with ire. “Father is proud of my progress. With more training, I could be the youngest officiated surgeon in the Divine Realm.”
“Oh? Congratulations, then. I’ll be sure to try to come to the celebration.”
“I hope you will,” Apollo’s tone never shifted, maintaining a similar cadence to the King. Hephaestus glanced at him, resisting the urge to peek into Apollo’s mind. He’s angry, that much is obvious. Hephaestus reasoned. Do I dare to ask?
He played with the pros and cons. Above all else, he didn’t want to draw Ares toward them. Hephaestus knew his brother would find some way to expel some nerves. What better way than taking bottled-up frustrations out on an arrogant child? Hephaestus couldn’t deny the need to comfort his younger brother, even with the risk. Especially after everything I’ve done to him. “Apollo,” He started, forcing himself to swallow down his chills at Apollo’s gleaming eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong. You’re upset about the coronation, aren’t you?”
Apollo stiffened, whipping his head to the sunset. His eyes hardened as his words broke out of his mouth. “You know as much as I do it isn’t fair. What has he done for the Divine Realm, Hephaestus?” Small bulbs of light grew around his golden curls, illuminating the pain in his snarl. He gripped the windowsill tighter. “Name one time that freak has acted like a respectable god. You know he hasn’t. The only reason he’s getting this damn coronation is because your mother bullied Dad into saying yes.”
Hephaestus’s rage bubbled within. He formed a nasty habit of defending his brother from anyone who spoke negatively of him. He refused to give in, even before a flash of memory broke into Hephaestus’s thoughts. Remember him cowering before you. Remember his fear of your mental pressure… Never do that again. A calm, practiced smile pulled the elder brother’s lips. “Mother can’t bully Father into doing anything. ” He said, the sentence already rehearsed. “Ares earned this. You might not have seen his progress, but it’s there.”
Apollo scoffed. Hephaestus’s shoulders slumped with accepted defeat. He knew no matter what he said, Apollo would still fume and complain. Hephaestus didn’t blame him; how could he? All Apollo saw was a bitter queen protecting her monster of a son from warranted scrutiny. He never experienced Ares’s warmth, gentle hugs, or excitable passion.
No, to the rest of the Divine, Ares was only a weapon. A curse. A mess. And, even though Hephaestus couldn’t disagree more, he accepted. “Whatever,” Apollo mumbled, glaring at Hephaestus. “He could send you to the Void and you’d still defend him.”
Hephaestus almost laughed at the shocking accuracy of his brother’s statement. He has no idea. “I probably would,” He dared to agree, risking angering Apollo further. “And then he’d fly in after me.”
“So he’s a coward, fleeing from his crimes. Typical.”
At that, Hephaestus faltered, his anger suddenly gripping him. He expected that, but Hephaestus felt himself gritting his teeth anyway. “You say that as if you know him,” Hephaestus glowered, his tone reaching a coolness equal to his mother. “And you don’t. You don’t know what he’s faced.”
“Do I need to?” To Hephaestus’s surprise, Apollo didn’t back down. He didn’t know whether to feel relief or annoyance. “Why does it matter about knowing him when all he does is cause chaos and pain? He is a god of destruction, Hephaestus. Does that mean anything to you? Or do you not care because you don’t face his wrath?” He paused, turning to face the smith in full. Tears skated down his warm, brown cheeks. The bulbs of light made the tears sparkle like starlight. “You don’t know how good you have it. You’ve never felt the pain of his claws or the force of his fists. And you never will… You never will.”
With each passing second, Apollo’s confession evaporated Hephaestus’s initial anger. He gazed at his crying brother and felt his guilt worm its way into his chest. Whatever rebuttal Hephaestus planned died in his throat. Hephaestus knew, deep down, that no excuse mattered. Apollo’s emotions got to him as he shrunk to his knees, looking small. Then, Hephaestus remembered a staggering truth.
He’s only twelve. Two Divine years younger than me… He’s a child.
Hephaestus instantly saw himself in his younger brother, sobbing in confusion. Pained. Desperate and needing a warm hand to hold through the turmoil. Excuses never satisfied his heart, and usually only made his fury burn brighter.
In his darkest Mortal hours, Hephaestus had Ares. Who did Apollo have?
Why should I care? A small voice inside Hephaestus tried to reason. Apollo had a loving mother, hidden away from the Queen’s rage. Kind and gentle, she cared for her children. Hugged them. Listened to them. Apollo was simply having a meltdown because the attention wasn’t on him for once. He never has to worry about Father’s opinion, or pleasing his mother… and he’s crying.
Hephaestus held out his arms anyway.
Apollo paused, giving his brother a strange look from the floor. Hephaestus kept his arms open. Apollo scrambled into his elder brother’s hold, gripping him as he continued to sob. “I’m sorry,” Hephaestus whispered against Apollo’s hair. “I’m sorry that he hurt you.”
“Why?” Apollo whispered back, the question getting interrupted by a hiccup. “Why does he hate me?”
Hephaestus immediately tried to soften the answer. Ares didn’t hate him. He only got angry with Athena or their father, and took it out on Apollo. Or a soldier. Or a guard. Or whoever Zeus slept with last. But Hephaestus knew that didn’t matter. He doesn’t need excuses. “He hates himself,” Hephaestus answered. “And he doesn’t know what to do about it. So he hurts you, and everyone else.”
The truth stung him, but Apollo stopped shuddering. He sat up and pulled away, his face dawning a warm smile. The bulbs of light brightened. “Thank you,” Apollo said, wiping his eyes. “Thank you for seeing me, Hephaestus.”
A fresh warmth washed away Hephaestus’s guilt. Despite his mental protesting, the decision felt right to him. “Anytime,” He replied. “That’s what brothers are for. Tomorrow we can spend some time helping you study over some lunch?”
Apollo beamed. “You’d do that?”
“Sure! I’d love to see some of the studies you’ve found! I could collaborate with your efforts to ease your medical procedures.” He held a hand out to Apollo, and his younger brother took it in a firm handshake. Now, Hephaestus didn’t shudder at the similar feeling of shaking hands with their father. “But you should go get some rest. The coronation is only going to stress you out further.”
“You’re right,” Apollo agreed, stretching. After a deep breath, his smile looked natural again. His shoulders relaxed as the bubbles of light faded. It left them in an approaching darkness, but neither brother flinched. Hephaestus only watched as Apollo walked back the way he came, away from the coronation. He’ll be alright, Hephaestus reasoned. He just needs time… and a brother.
“Phee?” A deep, resonating voice rumbled, making Hephaestus whip his chair around. Ares towered over him, his navy chiton exposing the left side of his chest and arm. Black swirls etched up his body, twisting around his right eye. Hephaestus contained amazement at his elder brother’s waist-length curls. The pinnacle of the garment was a golden laurel laced with shining sapphires. For the first time in what seemed like Divine years, Ares truly looked like a prince. “Who were you talking to?”
“Apollo,” Hephaestus told him. He saw no reason to lie. “He needed some cheering up.”Ares didn’t reply, only grunting as he got behind Hephaestu’s chair and started to push. Why does he hate me? Apollo’s words invaded Hephaestus’s mind like a stinging wound. He had to suppress a reaction. I’ll deal with it later… Focus on the matter at hand. “Finally getting coronated! How do you feel?”
The smith expected to see a smile, but Ares only kept his eyes forward. “I don’t know,” He admitted. His shrinking voice made worries bloom within Hephaestus. He craned his head up to look at Ares. “Should I be excited?”
“Sure! You’re going to be recognized as an Olympian! You can help Mother with decisions, and even get governance over a Territory.”
Ares’s mind seethed with stress at the mention of ruling. Hephaestus finally shivered, the mental presence overbearing in a Mortal second. “I don’t want to have a Territory,” Ares responded. His grip on Hephaestus’s chair tightened. Hephaestus didn’t need pushing, but he’d rather have Ares’s hands on the chair. Otherwise, the war god would end up crushing something else in that grip. “I don’t… want to be like him.”
“You aren’t,” He told Ares. “And you never will be. Ares, this is an honor you earned. Mother and Father-”
“Zeus is only doing it so he doesn’t get called out for considering me a bastard.”
The rebuttal silenced Hephaestus. He’s right. “That could be one reason,” He tried. “And the other is that you genuinely deserve respect as an Olympian. And Mother won’t say it, but she’s proud of you for making it this far.”
Finally, Ares’s scowl morphed into a crooked smile. He let go of the chair, moving to walk beside Hephaestus, who put a gentle hand on Ares’s arm. The chair pushed forward with telekinesis without a hitch. “You think Mama’s proud of me?” He asked, his deep voice making a hard contrast with his words.
“I do. She has a lot to be proud of. But… you know how she is.”
Ares barked out a rare chuckle. “Yeah. I hope she didn’t spend all Mortal Day stressing over this. I told her I didn’t want anything extra.”
“And you think she’ll listen to you? It’s like you think you’re her son or something.”
“Right. Forgive me for having preferences for my own coronation.”
Hephaestus grinned, grateful that his elder brother finally began to ease up. As they entered the ballroom, an expected emptiness greeted them. Hephaestus and Ares were grateful for the same reason. The fewer people around, the more calm Ares remained. His elder brother let out a sigh of relief at the solitude. Near the thrones, their mother adjusted the clothes of their sister. Hebe whined as the Queen plucked at stray feathers. Both sons looked around for the King. Nowhere to be found. He’s late.
Ares nodded to Hephaestus, who understood. Never mention the King’s selective tardiness. He appeared when he wanted, and the event started on his time. No one else’s. Instead of bringing it up, they moved to their mother, who looked as if she hadn’t slept in a Mortal week. Her curls wove in a neat braid, wrapped tightly around her regal crown. “There you are,” She breathed without looking up. Releasing Hebe, the young Daimona scrambled to her eldest brother, waving to Hephaestus. He smiled back as their mother scolded. “Don’t wrinkle her clothes, Ares. It took all Mortal day to get her ready.”
“I won’t, Mama.” He told her, tickling Hebe, who squealed. “Can we get started now?”
Hephaestus knew the truth before Hera even spoke. “No,” She said in a hushed tone. “We have to recognize you as an Olympian together. Be patient… he’ll come.” She rested on her throne, leaning back in it as if she carried a boulder up a mountain. After a quick exchanging glance, pity gripped Ares’s thoughts. Hephaestus couldn’t help sharing his sentiment. “He promised he would come…”
Mother can’t bully Father into doing anything. The words clanged within Hephaestus, making him wheel forward. She gave him a passing glance before she grabbed her scarred wrists. “Mother,” Hephaestus started, shoving his emotion to the back of his mind at the sight of her reserve. “Is there anything else that needs to be done? Ares and I can help-”
“No… Please.” She sighed. “Just stay there. Stay there and be quiet.”
Ares didn’t mind the order, opting to start a casual and quiet conversation with Hebe. She had a special immunity to their mother’s mood… at least for now. Only Gaia knew how long that would last.
A guilty pang pressed Hephaestus to edge closer to his mother’s mind. Again, her icy, impenetrable walls greeted him. Hephaestus couldn’t explain it, but the coolness gave him a wordless comfort. Something familiar, maybe? He chose not to speak as he wheeled forward, making his mother flinch out of her trance. Even that gesture didn’t anger Hephaestus as he put a worn hand on her leg.
Her eyes widened at him before she turned away. “I’ll be fine, Hephaestus,” She lied through her teeth. “The ceremony will start as soon as your father arrives, and then you can return to your tools.”
“I want to be here,” Hephaestus explained. “For Ares… and you. This is your day as much as it’s his.”
She didn’t reply, but her glossy eyes told Hephaestus everything. He opened his mouth to continue his sincerity, but a rushing wind stopped him. The royal family turned to face the king, entering like a billowing storm. His eldest daughter, Athena followed behind him without missing a beat. She seemed completely impervious to his blistering mood.
You’ve never felt the pain of his claws or the force of his fists…
Hephaestus burned the ghost of his brother’s words out of his mind again. He hated how similar their feelings were. Enough of that, though. Their father being here meant the tension reached an all-time high. Hephaestus didn’t miss the low growl Ares made from the back of his throat. Thankfully, Hebe didn’t finch away in his arms.
Zeus didn’t even give him attention. “Let’s get this over with,” He said, leading up to his wife. Hera gave a pointed look at Athena before glancing at a rumbling Ares. “I brought the witness, as you asked. I don’t have all Mortal night for this.”
Hephaestus swallowed a snide remark as Athena gently pressed her mind against his. Despite her lack of force, her overwhelming presence made Hephaestus stiffen. Ares doesn’t look pleased, She noted as Hera got up to gather everyone in the proper place.
He doesn’t want either of you here. Hephaestus answered. Once again, he found no reason to lie. I knew he’d pick you as a witness, though. Just to add salt to the wound.
Athena paused, her stoic exterior exposing a shadow of a frown. I see. I can do nothing about his anger. Father has ordered me to bear witness to his crowning.
I know. Don’t blame yourself.
The still silence grew even thicker as Zeus stepped forward. He took a deep breath and spread his voice, echoing across the ballroom. “We have gathered today to recognize a particular god. One of Divine strength and heritage.” The speech sounded practiced, and Hephaestus felt himself slumping in his chair. He expected no less from their father, but his emotions made him more acute to the distance. Zeus never met eyes with any children, keeping his gaze straight ahead. Ares kept his jaw set. “One who carries the strength of thousands of Divine men, and unlimited potential. May the Prince step forward and deliver his speech?”
So few words? Hephaestus thought to himself. Ares stepped forward, his clothes flowing with a rare regality. When he stood before his father, their visual similarity couldn’t be clearer. Same jaw, eyes, nose. Anyone else would have been envious. Hephaestus knew it was what Ares hated most about himself. “Thank you, Zeus,” He started, not even trying to be formal. “For the kind words. Truly, I’m honored to be here. Because I’ve wanted to say this to everyone for… a long time.”
Hephaestus and his mother exchanged a quick glance before the queen swallowed. Hephaestus knew his brother had a script, but had no idea if he even bothered to memorize it. From the looks of Ares’s growing wicked smile, Hephaestus knew he didn’t.
He is about to say something regrettable, Athena noted.
It’s his right. Hephaestus answered back. He deserves to be heard as you were. Besides, there’s only a handful of us here.
Still… This will not end well for him, Brother.
“I’ve waited many Divine years to speak my truth,” Ares continued. “And for once, I’m not silenced or shoved into a cage. You're ashamed of me. You and Mama both. I’m your regret, your anger, your pain. The indignity of my existence paralyzed you and made you lock me away. If the Cursed Son isn’t acknowledged, the Cursed Son doesn’t exist, right?”
“Ares-” Hera tried to stop her son. Hephaestus knew it was too late. The boar was loose, ready to let everyone know of its fury.
“I know none of that bothered you, though,” Ares continued, cutting off his mother with a glare. “No. It was that I never cared for you. I see you for the monster you are, for half of that monster is in me. So there’s never any golden light when you enter. No round of applause for your existence. No forced bows of respect. I will always be the failed son not because of my Soul Scars, but because I will never bend to your will.
“Today, you see me for what I am. Sure, it’s because your hand is forced and people will talk if your eldest legitimate son didn’t get a coronation. But a forced hand is still a hand to play. And I, for one, am grateful. Not for you, Zeus. Never for you. But for the opportunity to unleash what I’m capable of. So thank you, Glorious King of the Divine Gods. For making me the animal I am today.”
Hephaestus's mouth hung open. It was the polar opposite of any coronation speech he had heard. Hera had a drained cast to her features that he forced himself to ignore. Athena’s expression didn’t change, but her thinly veiled emotions exposed a restless sea of rage. Hephaestus didn’t even realize lightning sparked and fluttered around father and son. Purples and reds clashed together like an angry storm, seconds from disaster.
Hephaestus held his breath. Another Mortal second of silence, and then the voice crashed into his head. Such angry Olympians.
The smith gasped, immediately setting his mind on the defensive. A familiar chill crawled up his bare arms. Show yourself, Eris! He demanded, alerting Athena of the threat. She snapped away from her emotions and made a protective field around the Queen and Hebe. The motion snapped Ares and Zeus out of their silent war, with Ares sniffing the air and growling. I don’t need your games today.
Oh, Hephaestus. Eris, She of Endless Strife, whispered, rattling the young smith to his core. Athena’s set jaw let him know Eris also made herself known to her. You can be so selfish. I never said I was here for you. It is your brother’s coronation after all.
The wretched Daimona manifested from invisible screeches. She spread her vulture-like wings and thin arms in a daunting stance. She gave each member of the family a pointed and intense look. Hephaestus forced himself to meet her eyes with a glare. Athena didn’t wait, summoning a pristine silver spear and holding it to Eris’s face. “You are not welcome here, intruder!" She bellowed with might.
Eris only hummed at her. Hephaestus wanted to warn his sister to disengage, but he knew better. Eris preyed on mental conversations. Stay quiet. Say nothing. Don’t let her hurt anyone. Athena will be fine. “You, of all the people here, are least welcome, Athena,” Eris commented with a head tilt. She didn’t even flinch from the spear, inches from her nose. “Did Ares even ask for you on his special day? I doubt it, considering he hates you and everything you represent. I do agree that you can be quite boring. Oh, well. Let’s just get rid of you for now.”
She snapped her fingers, and in a flash, Athena vanished from the ballroom.
Zeus’s tension became palpable. “Release her!” He demanded, a destructive bolt of lightning forming in his hand. He shoved Ares aside and raised it to Eris. “You have no right, bastard.”
“Oh, I have every right, Zeusie,” Eris cooed, humming at the mass of congested lighting. Zeus gritted his teeth and dissipated his power. Hephaestus masked his surprise, but Ares raised his eyebrows. “I’m why you and Hera are here celebrating your terrible son, after all!”
She teleported in a blink, reforming in front of Ares. She grabbed his cheeks in a sudden burst of affection. The confused tension clouded everyone’s thoughts, even little Hebe in her mother’s arms. Hephaestus forced himself to keep his mind locked on to Eris. Let him go! He mentally shouted.
Hush, child. There’s more I’d like to say. And I suggest you let me say it unless you want that pathetic sister of yours to get a terrible headache. Hephaestus froze, gritting his teeth. He was no stranger to Eris’s powerful and daunting mind. He couldn't handle her first attack as a child, and he had the advantage of mental defenses, measly as they were. The devastation she could cause Hebe… Hephaestus didn’t dare risk it, so he quieted down. Good boy!
“Oh, Ares,” Eris continued out loud without missing a beat. “When you told me you’d continue to kill and murder until you had your father’s head, you meant it! I’m quite impressed. How many souls live on your body today?”
Ares hated getting asked how many Soul Scars he had. Everyone always wondered, and he often lied that he didn’t know. But he had to know, for every soul he took imprinted itself on his very being. And, in this moment of panic, the eldest prince spoke the truth. Hephaestus heard his brother’s mind clear to say the number. “998.”
“Only two to 1000? Marvelous, Ares. Truly.” Eris released him but her grin didn’t fall. “You have become an incredible weapon. But, there is more work to be done, of course. They underutilize you, don’t they? You made it so clear in that riveting speech that you tire of being treated like a caged animal. You want to be free, to destroy and ruin as you please! Naturally. That’s how we made you!”
Ares dared to glance at Hephaestus for help, his mind bubbling like a dormant volcano. One shift away from activity. What do I say? The look desperately asked. Hephaestus couldn’t interfere. No matter how much his instincts screamed at him to teleport his whole family away from Eris. He gave Ares a subtle nod, conveying courage.
His older brother swallowed. “We?”
A glint twinkled in Eris’s dark eyes. “Have they not told you?” She asked, stepping to the center. She clasped her hands together in a strange display of excitement. “Time for a family history lesson!” For the first time, Hephaestus heard his mother’s mental panic seep like blood leaking from a wound. Ares seemed to sense it too because he gave his mother a disturbed look. In the distance, thunder clapped from beyond the walls of Mount Olympus. “The children deserve how their oldest brother came to be. And it all began eighteen Divine years ago.
“The war was raging on, and your precious Olympians were at a loss on how to crush their enemies. They had an edge with a psychic in Athena, but that wasn’t enough. It’s never enough for Zeus. Besides, if one attempt at Spirit Magic made a being as perfect as Athena, then certainly it could work again. But the magic was hard to produce, considering dearest Kronos outlawed the practice. So Zeusie turned to me once more.
“He was willing to do anything to defeat his father. Including sacrificing his pregnant beloved. I didn’t care because Spirit Magic required sacrifices. No escape around that. So I accepted the deal to make a Titan Killer, a god whose mind could not be read. Completely immune to his future grandfather. It was supposed to be a smooth procedure. But something - or someone, rather - didn’t follow the plan.”
Her eyes trained on Hera, bringing everyone else to look at her. She shrank back, Hebe tight in her arms. Again, thunder cracked. Zeus’s gaze sent icy daggers her way. Hephaestus couldn’t tell if he was mad at his wife, or if the Mortal Day’s emotions were getting to him. Maybe both. “Stop this,” Hera whispered. “No more. You made your point today, Eris.”
“I understand. Your life was on the line.” Eris continued, pacing in a circle to watch the entire family. “A young and powerful goddess didn’t deserve to be sacrificed. You wanted to live, survive, and prove to your mother that you mattered. Most of all, you wanted to meet your son. But it was too late. The deal had been made and there was no escape.”
“Please…” Fast tears escaped from Hera’s eyes. Hebe began to shudder, her golden feathers drifting off her wings. Ares shook as his mind flooded into a sea of emotions, desperate to act, to free his mother from sadness. Hephaestus doubted Ares even listened to the recounting now, his mind too swarmed. “I wasn’t…”
“Wasn’t what, Hera?” Eris asked. “Strong enough? No, you weren’t. You resisted during the ritual. A soul was never taken so the exchange was ruined. And so was the finished product.” In a striking display of dramatics, Eris whipped her head at Ares. “A mess of a god. A mindless animal who can barely think for himself. Forced to be accepted and acknowledged because his mother wouldn’t give up her life for him.”
The fact hung in the air like a thick, poisonous cloud. Hephaestus didn’t know what to make of the news, and he could only imagine how his brother felt. So the spell went wrong, Hephaestus processed. That’s what happened. I can’t believe that I never thought about that… Oh, dear Gaia. Ares…
Ares only stared down at the bearer of the news. It sunk through his thoughts like a weight. Oddly, Hephaestus heard his brother’s voice as if looking through clear glass.
Unfortunately, a dangerous thunderstorm of words replaced the thickened cloud of emotions. It made Hephaestus gasp, overwhelming his mind in a matter of Mortal moments. He barely made out the flurry of his brother’s words.
All this time, I thought it was me. I always assumed my soul wasn't right for Spirit Magic. But... they messed me up. I could have been like Athena. I could have been like Lord Krius! And here I am... ruined. Wasted. Furious!
Voices dimmed around him as he focused on Ares, who bared his teeth. Hephaestus swore they grew more jagged. Eris looked upon his vitriol with a wicked grin. The ballroom blurred as Ares clenched his fists. Somehow, Eris’s question resonated past the thunder. Past the thoughts. Past Hephaestus’s failing emotions. “How do you feel, Ares? To learn that you are nothing more than a botched experiment your parents couldn’t throw away? The only Blessed god that has no value? Tell me, child.”
“They did this.” Hephaestus couldn’t escape his brother's descent into rage if he tried. “I could have been normal. Sane! And she ruined me!”
An irrational plume of doom simmered inside of Hephaestus. His shoulders slumped. I've waited so long for you to feel this way about her. Why... why is it wrong?
Hephaestus’s question never got answered. No one heard him, and Eris didn’t listen. After glancing at him, she did little more to acknowledge him. Eris looked up, caressing his cheek, eerily maternal. Ares didn’t respond to the touch. “That they did.” She agreed. “But I wouldn’t worry. Parents always find a way to fail their children. But... There is a way to exact vengeance.”
Hephaestus almost screamed. Watching intense spinning balls of fire develop around Ares made the words die in his throat. Are those… bombs?!
“There it is,” Eris whispered. Somehow, Hephaestus still heard her. Her grin made the smith grit his teeth. “I’m so glad you can still do this, what with you repressing your memories of the war and all. It just needed a little push, right?”
More flames formed. Hephaestus heard Hebe whimper. Ares’s mental state crumbled once more, his emotions bolstering. The volcanic emotions burst forth as he roared. A memory flashed, of a child learning and laughing from a Titan. Monstrous teeth. Black fur. Forbidden magic. The Destruction Pathway.
Lord Prometheus wrote of the terrible octave that ravaged the Titan War. Few knew of its existence, fewer still knew its use. These Mortal days, the Destruction Pathways of the elements formed into fanciful rumors. Different Territories had different myths and explanations for different elements. No one could prove anything, even though it had only been less than twenty Divine Years since the end of the War.
Who knew their prince had known the forbidden magic the whole time?
Hera held her fingers to her mouth, clutching Hebe impossibly tighter. “It can’t be…” She whispered as more flaming orbs collected around her. She froze, knowing her fate if even a single fireball went off. “Ares…!”
Ares didn’t, or couldn’t, hear. Zeus only mumbled a curse. He knew any attempt at consolation was futile. Not that his words mattered to Ares anyway.
Hephaestus took a deep breath. He often held the fate of his brother in his hands. Now, it was time to defend his entire family.
He dared to wheel forward, grabbing the attention of every lucid god in the room. To his surprise, Eris didn’t glare at him but rather looked at him with… curiosity. What? No, focus. “So this was what you wanted all along?” He asked Eris. “Someone free who still remembered the Destruction Pathway. Why? I know destroying us is a step in your plan, not the goal.”
“Well deduced, Hephaestus, as always,” Eris complimented. Hephaestus set his jaw. Another sphere formed dangerously close to his face. “I only want to remove the royal family for a new order. Or, I simply want to play with my favorite toy. Maybe both. Maybe neither.”
“He isn’t a toy!” Hephaestus roared, his anger of the day finally bursting forward. “He never has been! He is a god . A god of war and destruction, yes, but a god all the same. I don’t care about what he’s done or what you tried to turn him into. He prevailed, and he will prevail every Mortal day he loves me and our sister.
“And you,” Hephaestus didn’t spare his fury, sending a sharp glare to his seething father. A loud, clanging force in his mind tried to scream at him to stop. Further angering his father didn’t outweigh the risk. And yet… “You despise the fact that he does. All you wanted was a weapon, and you got a son who needed you. You thought you mastered Spirit Magic with Athena, so you gambled with my mother. Your son. None of this would have happened if someone in their Gaia-damned mind tried to humble you back then! But no.
“You were too afraid, weren’t you, Mother?” Hephaestus shifted his anger as it exploded into a crescendo. Tears obscured his vision, but that didn’t stop his biting words from leaving his burning throat. “Eris is wrong. You weren’t weak. You knew if you didn’t stop him, he would have killed you regardless. And he already forced you to have a baby, it’s not like he could do anything else, right? Why would a mother fight for the life of her fucking child?! So you gave up! Both of you took one look at him and gave up.
“I don’t care. I don’t care about the people he’s killed. I don't care that Perses taught him forbidden magic. I don’t care that he can plunge this entire Realm into darkness...” At once, his head whipped to Ares. His teeth jutted out of his mouth. Clawed fists made his hands bleed ichor. His curls grew out of control, tangling in a dark pool around his body. His eyes burned with the same intensity as the miniature bombs that spun around him. Hephaestus forced himself to focus on the rampage of emotions. “If none of you will love him, then I will.”
His mother’s mental wall chipped. Don’t go near him.
The smith took a deep breath and opened his arms.
To his suppressed shock, Eris continued to watch from his mind. Hephaestus ignored the presence and kept his attention on the one who mattered most. “It’s okay, Ares. I understand. But killing them isn't going to solve anything.”
Silence passed. Hephaestus held his breath. “You’re furious, Phee.” He said, voice hoarse from tears.
“I am, and I don’t… I don’t think that’s leaving anymore.” Hephaestus admitted. With his dam broken, his words slipped and spilled like water downstream. His shoulders slumped as the drained emotions caught up to him. His arms never dropped. “We can be angry together, yeah? But that can't happen if you continue down the Destruction Pathway.”
Ares’s lip quivered before he pounced, collapsing into his brother’s arms. Hephaestus held him tightly, gripping his hair in the hug. One by one, the flames dissipated into the air. Hephaestus didn’t break the hug, not even when the air felt cooler. Not even when Hebe started to wail. Not even when Eris flapped her wings and told him, “Interesting. Someday, he’ll be mine, Hephaestus. But you made sure that day isn’t today."
“It won’t be someday. I’ll defend him with my life if I have to. Every single time you come to ruin him.”
“Is that so?” She asked. Her cackle returned but Hephaestus didn’t look up. He didn’t need to.
His words and his mind stood strong against the constant whirlwind of Eris’s presence. Somehow, Hephaestus didn’t feel disturbed as he took a deep breath. Within Ares’s strong, comforting hold, Hephaestus felt the storm surge around them. They rested in the eye. “Yes.”
Eris seemed to notice, humming with satisfaction. “You will always fascinate me, He of Bountiful Innovation. Protect him, then. I’ll see how long you last.” She promptly ignored Zeus’s striking glare and bowed to Hera. “As always, your children exceed the realm of possibility. I wonder what will become of the little one, or if you decide to have yet another monster. Only the eternal clock will tell. For now, I have learned what I needed.”
With that, she of the Endless Chaos vanished. Only then did Ares and Hephaestus let go of each other. When Ares fell out of his brother’s hold, he rushed to his mother and sister. The peace within Hephaestus ebbed away from Ares’s torrent of emotions. “Mama, are you and Tiny Girl okay?” Ares asked after a swallow. “I’m sorry… I didn’t…”
“You don’t need to explain, Ares,” Hera didn’t meet her eldest son's eyes when she replied. Hebe, conversely, held her arms for Ares to take her. Gratitude enveloped Hephaestus when Hera relented immediately. Hebe flew into her brother’s arm and held onto him with a small vice grip. Even after he threatened our very lives, Hephaestus noted. She wanted him for comfort. Oh, Hebe… you know so little. “What matters now is that it’s over…”
Is it? Hephaestus thought with bated breath. Eris could return at any moment to torment once more. Or tomorrow, or three Mortal months from now… and what she said to Mother? Another monster? What does she know? And how does she know it? Thinking of the endless possibilities gave Hephaestus a wave of chills. After a Mortal second, he shook the sentiment away. He’ll face Eris when she appears again, no sooner.
Besides, he had a father to deal with.
Hephaestus felt the dominant, turbulent presence the entire time. He simply chose to acknowledge it after he assured himself his mother and siblings were safe. Unashamed, he met his father’s gaze. Those daunting purple eyes assaulted him like a crashing wave. Neither god blinked. Neither god moved.
You’ve never felt the pain of his claws or the force of his fists…
Hephaestus heard Ares’s rumble. Hebe’s sniffle. His mother’s shame crawled onto his back as he felt her stare boring into him as if she trapped him under a hefty boulder. None of it made Hephaestus break. His father’s presence took up too much space for anything to garner more attention. It engulfed Hephaestus’s soul like a snake going in for a feast. Zeus flexed his fingers by opening and closing his hands. The motion almost made Hephaestus glance down.
Internally, he struggled to hold still as deja vu rippled over his mind. Golden bracelets. Striving for vengeance. Searing anger. A fall that reminded him of infancy... Yes, Hephaestus wanted to teleport away and hide in his forge. Death awaits!
He braced himself for his father’s mind as it opened to him. The all-encompassing mass of pressure surrounded Hephaestus immediately. He gritted his teeth and focused on breathing, straining to keep eye contact. Sweat formed on his brow as the pressure thickened and grew. Hephaestus couldn’t hear himself or anyone else anymore, only the King’s words.
How dare you.
Outside, the rain continued to pelt against the unmoving mountain. Thunder clapped, this time being much louder than the others. Hephaestus lost control of his breath when his father took a step closer. No room for escape. Out of sheer spite, Hephaestus kept eye contact. “Do you think,” Zeus asked. His voice maintained an unparalleled sense of control. To anyone unaware, the tone would have been almost friendly. It made Hephaestus’s heart drop into his stomach. “That I need to be Gaia-damned humbled, Hephaestus?”
Lightning flashed within his father’s soul, exposing Hephaestus to his true self. Angry. Rampant. Terrifying. Hephaestus wanted to feel intimidated, but the emotion didn’t come to the forefront of his heart. At that moment, Hephaestus knew his answer.
No fear. No hesitation. He knew the Void awaited him if the answer left his mouth. Somehow, his fear didn’t want to stop him. Stranger still, Hephaestus noticed his blooming pride. He knew, after this, he wouldn’t back down.
He opened his mouth, his truth eager to be set free.
Athena interrupted them. Everyone looked at the goddess when she manifested back into the ballroom. Athena! Hephaestus called, maintaining a low voice for her mind to adjust. Zeus passed him to help his daughter to his feet. Hephaestus swallowed as she gasped for breath. Her eyes looked as dazed as her mind felt. He had never seen his sister so disheveled. Are you well?
I… am fine, brother. She replied once comfortable in Zeus’s arms. She gave a weak smile to her family, but Hephaestus couldn’t bring himself to return the gesture. That woman, Eris. She is well beyond my power. I… She frightens me, Hephaestus. I must know more about her, to…
We’ll go over what we know later. Just rest your mind now. All you need to be concerned with now is that she’s gone.
She took a deep breath and stood tall. Her eyes still looked distant, but Ares didn’t notice, looking down at her with awe. “Are you okay?” He asked, stunning his entire family.
Athena answered after a hiccup of hesitation. “Yes, I will live. Can we continue?”
Her mind is slow, Hephaestus noted. She glanced at him and he subtly nodded. Eris did something to her. She said Athena bored her but… she’s still Blessed with Spirit magic. She did something… as soon as the coronation is over, I have to find out.
Until then… Hephaestus wanted to celebrate what he came for finally—his brother. After Athena reassured her father, the King of Olympus took center stage. Ares walked up to him after setting Hebe on the floor. The mood had shifted, the anger subdued and withered from Eris’s sabotage. Hephaestus couldn’t hear rumbling dark clouds from his brother and father. Only a hollow aftermath. It made the smith smile.
“Ares,” Zeus said. Ares blinked in surprise but bowed as he practiced. “First son of the Kingdom of Olympus, He of Beaslty Savagery. The Olympian title is now yours.”
The indoctrination wasn’t nearly as long as normal, but it didn’t have to be. Ares’s gnarly smile lit up his face, and he immediately turned to Hephaestus. His features returned to his normal.
His breath caught in his throat as Ares crashed into his brother’s arms again. Hephaestus let the tears roll down his cheeks as they embraced. The Olympian’s joy warmed Hephaestus like a gleaming sunrise.
Hephaestus knew the nightmares and thunder would return. Athena needed help. And… his truth wanted freedom, even now. Hephaestus couldn’t bring himself to care about any of it. Not with the miserable, laughing war god sobbing in his arms.