In My Image

A battle weary figure stood on a dais at the base of an obsidian throne. No walls existed for this throne room. It rested at the peak of Mount Othys which overlooked all but Mount Olympos to the north. The man standing next to the throne had a shoulder length mane of black hair in ringlets and beard of coarse hair that matched the hair on his head.

Before this figure was a man bound in chains, forced into a prostrate pose by a savage-looking man, Kratos. Even if the man was standing Kratos would have towered over him. One of Kratos' hands held the chains, the other rested at the nape of the man's neck. The man panted and grunted from the exertion of war and sweated from the anxiety of a prisoner whose side lost. Paieon, a short elderly looking man with coarse grey hair and beard, flitted around the figure performing the duties of a physician.

"Leave me alone, you old crone," said the man. Immediately Paieon backed away, his back bent in subservience. The figure on the dais regarded the prostrate man before him. Turning to his left he said, "This is your brother, is he not, Prometheus?"

Prometheus stepped forward; pity filled his eyes as he looked at his brother, Atlas. "Yes, my Lord Zeus," he said. "He was one of the top generals in Kronos' army."

Atlas' eyes raged. He struggled against his chains and the adamant hand holding his body down. Kratos had to kick him in the stomach before he ceased. Zeus leaned over the prisoner. His voice a mockery of concern, he said, "Do you wish to say something,. . . Titan?" He spat the last word.

Atlas, still choking for air from the blow Kratos gave him, leered at Prometheus. After a moment he said, "You. . . damned cur! How could you betray. . . betray your own kind? Kronos was your uncle for—"

"And he was my father!" Zeus said, grabbing Atlas' jaw so their faces were mere centimeters apart. "He was my father and I still overthrew his power." Letting go of Atlas, Zeus turned his back on him and stepped away.

"If blood ties mean nothing to you, how you expect your own kin, let alone your minions, to remain loyal to you?"

"Enough of this nonsense!" Zeus roared, giving a dismissive gesture with his hand. He pondered for a few moments, then said, "Banishment to Tartaros is too lenient a punishment. Therefore, I condemn you to forever separate the sky from the earth. Get him out of my sight, Kratos."

Kratos, with a smile of ecstasy, dragged Atlas away from the throne. Atlas kicked and strained against his restraints and screamed curses at Zeus.

When Kratos started down the mountain, Zeus turned to Prometheus. He said with an edge of weariness in his voice, "How many do I have left to punish?"

"Just one, my Lord," said Prometheus, making certain to look Zeus in his eye. "His name is Epimetheus. My younger brother."

"Will he be as troublesome as your older brother?"

"No, my Lord. In fact, Epimetheus is a simpleton. He does not have much of a will of his own. I'm certain that he opposed you under severe duress by Kronos. He is more a conscript than a loyal minion."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Forgive his ignorance. He could aide me in my service to you. You will need our combined services to establish your new world order."

Zeus mulled over what Prometheus just told him. He said, "Very well; he is pardoned. But he is your responsibility. If he angers me in any way, the punishment will come down upon you. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly, my Lord." Prometheus bowed his head.

"Good." Zeus took up a lightning bolt and held it like a javelin, ready to strike. "Let it be known that the reign of the Titans has ended!" He threw the bolt at the throne which shattered. The heat and violence of its destruction left much of the fragments and what was left standing of the throne as slag.

***

Prometheus' hands ached from the constant work that he was demanding of them. Before him on the table was his current task: a heap of formless red clay that covered the entire table top. Several lumps in the clay were the previous smashed, abortive trials. Several molding and sculpting tools littered the spaces in between the lumps.

Epimetheus, a brown-haired youth with quivering lips and darting eyes, paced the room behind the stool on which Prometheus sat. His hands seemed to be wrestling with each other as his mind struggled to grasp hold of something.

"I know you have something on your mind, brother," sighed Prometheus over his shoulder. "Out with it."

Epimetheus gave a tiny jump when his older brother spoke. His eyes searched the floor as if he would find what he wanted to say written there. "It's been a millenium since... uh... Well it's just that y-you nev-never told me why... er... why you... uh—"

"Why I helped Zeus bring down our kin?"

"Er... yeah."

Prometheus sighed as he brought his fingers to his forehead. He sat there a moment choosing his words carefully. When he was ready he turned on his stool until he was face to face with his brother. Prometheus wore a blue tunic spotted with dried red clay; his exhausted eyes were framed by short, curly black locks and a modest beard.

"Our mother, Klymene, if you remember studied the art of prescience," he said.

"Prescience?"

"Fore-sight, dear brother. She could see into the future, and she passed that gift to me. When I first met Zeus, he asked me a riddle. As he told me the riddle I had a vision. I saw him standing over our uncle, Kronos, a lightning bolt, forged by the giants who aided his coup, in his hands. Most of the other Titans were bound in chains. All, that is, except me who stood behind him. By the time the vision was over Zeus had finished recounting his riddle and refused to repeat it. I could not answer him and so he was able to outwit me. He then demanded my service, which I gave him.

"Because of the vision?"

"There was something else in the vision. Behind me in the distance stood one man—a mortal—who had risen in arms against Zeus."

Epimetheus looked from his brother's face to the lump of clay on the workbench. A glimmer of slight understanding permeated his face.

"Yes, dear brother!" Prometheus said. "I convinced Zeus to let me create a race of mortals. He so eagerly wishes to subjugate lesser beings and to be worshiped by them. He used the wood from the ash tree—the same wood that is used to make spears and other instruments of war. The lust for violence drove them to exterminate each other. But I," Prometheus gestured to the lump of clay, "I use clay from Gaia, the mother of the Titans. She who spawned the race that was overthrown will contribute to the race that will defeat the usurper. And to add insult to injury, I will shape them in my image."

Prometheus then turned back to the clay and began to mold it. Epimetheus stood aghast. Several minutes passed before he was able to speak.

"But if Zeus should find out about this treachery...."

"He would punish me severely. Yes, I realize that. But this is how it has to be. I cannot forgive him for destroying the world order that our race had set down. His sovereignity must end and I intend to be the hand that wields the instrument that defeats him. I will teach this new race arithmetic, geography, navigation, warfare, politics, philosophy; I will teach them what is necessary to know to bring down that—"

A boy flew into the room in a flutter of wings.

"What do you want you, flying rat?"

"Why dost though speak so savagely, when in Zeus' service there must be glee?" said the boy, hovering several feet in the air. He wore a broad brimmed hat which covered a short crop of curly blonde hair. His feet were dressed in sandals with wings on the ankles that allowed him to hover as he did.

"What do you want, Hermes?" Prometheus said, annoyance creeping into his voice.

"Tis not I that wants thee. You, Almighty Zeus wants to see. Thou must do what the Almighty One say and speed to his chamber without delay." Hermes soared out of Prometheus' workshop, an impish laugh echoed down the halls.

"Don't touch anything while I'm gone" Prometheus said to Epimetheus.

Prometheus walked out of his workshop and turned towards the direction of Zeus's throne room. Olympos had been utterly transformed since the inception of the new Gods' reign. Any mortal that climbed the moutain would see only stark rock and snow. But those with divine blood could see an entire polis of the Gods.

Buildings of the purest white marble, gardens and arbors filled with all variety of plants and trees, and paved avenues of red granite connected it all. Gold accents on every edge. Splashes of color on frescoes and walls depicting various Gods' exploits, with plenty blank space left for future adventures. Prometheus made a note to teach these architecture techniques to the mortals to give them a taste of the realm of the Gods.

Zeus' chambers were the largest on Olympos and sat at the highest point to oversee all others. Inside were two enormous statues that very nearly stretched from floor to ceiling. Both were made of solid gold. Clothes, hair, and eyes were painted to match their models: Zeus and his wife Metis, a Titan. She was Zeus' "inside man" that provided the emetic to Kronos, forcing him to regurgitate Zeus' siblings and helping turn the tide of the war. Her wings, edged in brown, spread wide as if ready for flight.

Sitting in thrones directly in front of their respective statues were Metis and Zeus, diminished by their statues only by the differences in their sizes. Metis' wings were folded elegantly behind her. Her throne cut in such a way as to accommodate her wings without taking away from her grace and comfort. They were smiling and talking to each other in voices low enough for each other to hear and no one else.

Prometheus stopped, as was customary, four meters from the thrones. It was several minutes before Zeus noticed Prometheus standing there.

"Prometheus!" beamed Zeus. Prometheus fell to one knee and bowed his head. "None of that, my friend. Please excuse us. Metis was just telling the most interesting thing. Apparently a new Goddess was found on a beach in the mortal world. Apparently when my father castrated his father Ouranos and threw the penis into the ocean, the froth from the remnants birthed this Goddess! What a strange birth! She's technically older than we are! I have not met her yet, but I hear she is of exceptional beauti... Prometheus? Are you all right?"

Prometheus was standing again but there was no apparent life in him. No twitch of the muscle, no breathing, no focus to his gaze. It was as if his physical being remained but everything else about him had been taken. After a few moments, Prometheus started gasping, life returned to the muscles of his body, and his eyes took in his surroundings quickly. Once he regained composure he looked at Metis, then Zeus.

"My Lord, I must speak with you alone, if you will permit it."

Zeus turned to Metis, said, "Please excuse us, darling. I'll see you tonight." Metis caressed Zeus' cheek with her hand. Zeus took it and kissed the palm. Metis walked out of the chambers.

Zeus stood and approached Prometheus. "We're alone. Speak."

"It was about you, Metis, and your offspring." Zeus stepped closer, whisper distance. Prometheus spoke more quietly, "Metis will bear you two children. First a daughter, then a son. It is the son that will overthrow you. Just as you overthrew your own father."

Zeus trembled and braced himself on Prometheus' shoulder. His breathing became shallow and his eyes stared unfocused into the middle distance. "What is this? Some sort of cycle?"

"It's possible, my Lord. There are forces that even Gods and Titans must obey."

"How do I avoid this fate?"

"I don't think you can. Kronos received a similar prophecy. He chose to swallow his children shortly after they were born. His actions incurred the betrayal of his wife Rhea and, eventually, your wrath."

Zeus looked up at the statues of Metis and himself. Prometheus watched silently waiting for Zeus to decide his course of action. Zeus closed his eyes and sighed, "It's a betrayal, is what it is." Turning to Prometheus, "You are free to go, my friend."

"My Lord, you summoned me here."

"Did I? Whatever it was it's no longer important. Go. Continue your work."

Prometheus bowed, then turned to exit. Before stepping out of the throne room he turned back to Zeus, who was covering his eyes with his hand.

***

The night of his vision of Metis' offspring... something happened to Metis. The following morning she could not be found. Zeus merely said that the events of the war weighed on her heavily and she desired to roam the mortal world on her own for some time.

A year passed with no word, no sightings. Then another year. And another. Still Zeus claimed that she was still wondering the mortal world. Paieon was the most anxious concerning Metis' disappearance. When Prometheus asked him about it, Paieon merely chirped "Pregnant." before realizing he had spoken out of turn and raced out of sight.

Prometheus never believed Zeus' excuse but he needed verify that she was dead. So he opted to journey to the darkest recess of Hades' kingdom to consult the Moirai. Daughters of Nyx, primordial Goddess of chaos and night, they preferred this location in all of creation as it was the closest they could get to being with their mother all the time. Her power suffused into them. Even Zeus would not cross them.

Their chamber was the darkest place that Prometheus had ever entered.

"Prometheus...," hissed a voice that sounded like it was in his head.

"...Son of Iapetos...," slithered another voice, but it felt like a chill up his spine than actual sound.

"...And Klymene...," whispered a third, though it felt more like goosebumps traveling up his arm.

"What brings... you... here?" Hissed the first voice.

Prometheus tried to speak but found his throat too dry. He swallowed and tried again. "I have come to ask you about the Titan, Metis."

"Immortals... do not..."

"...Interest... us...."

"We... only... measure..."

"...Mortals...."

Cold seeped into his ichor. He breathed deep to steady himself. "I ask that you... measure... Metis, as a favor."

"'A favor'...?"

"From a..."

"...Collaborator...?"

"What... good..."

"...Is your..."

"...Word...?"

"I suspect," said Prometheus, "that Zeus may have circumvented his fate." Somehow, he felt the chill, the hiss, and the whisper all stiffen. "I had a vision concerning him and his wife, the Titan, Metis. Without her, that vision cannot come to pass. So I must know if she still lives."

Silence thickened the chamber. Heat, from an unknown source, burned his lungs as he breathed.

"What you ask..."

"...Will... take..."

"Time...."

"Our... methods..."

"...Start... at birth...."

"Metis... born..."

"...Long ago...."

"New... method..."

"...For this...."

"How much time do you require?" said Prometheus.

"Seven..."

"...Days...."

"Leave...."

Prometheus did not breathe easily until he was completely out of Hades' realm. Seven days he would have to endure them again. And he would, for if Zeus could avert the fate of the vision concerning Metis' offspring, he might be able to avert the one with the mortals too. Whatever price the Moirai ask of him could not be too high.

A week later he entered the lair or the Moirai. Again he felt rather than heard their voices.

"He... returned...." Hissed.

"Won't... like..." Slithered.

"...Results...." Whispered.

"I must know. Tell me and I shall do as you wish."

"Rash..."

"Does not fit..."

"...Name..."

"Many... measures..."

"...Metis lived... but..."

"...Ending... we sensed...."

"So she is dead." Prometheus felt the disappointment wash over him.

"...No...."

"Shears... would not..."

"Cut... thread...."

"What do you mean?" Prometheus' heartbeat quickened.

"Thread..."

"...Frayed...."

"Metis..."

"...Lives... but..."

"...Diminished...."

"Where do I find her?"

"Not... part..."

"Of deal.... Only..."

"Measure...."

Prometheus sighed. "Then what price do you ask of me?"

"Price..."

"...Already...."

"...Taken...."

"Do... not..."

"...Curse us..."

"...Discovered...."

A large, lidless, yellow eye appeared in the dark and looked directly at Prometheus. All three voices felt, "Leave... now...."

***

The smoldering, naked cone of Mosychlos stood in stark contrast to the teeming plant life ringing it. It stood sentinel on the island of Lemnos, in the northern half of the Aegean Sea—and it was where Hephaistos set up his smithy. Even now as he approached the volcano, Prometheus heard the thunderings of Hephaistos' hammer which shuddered the entire island.

Several years have passed and Prometheus was no nearer an answer concerning Metis. Zeus had stopped saying that Metis was roaming the mortal world and now said that she had opted to go to Tartaros to be with her Titan brethren. Zeus had Metis' statue in his throne room taken down.

It was starting to get hard to hide his dealings with the mortals from Zeus as well. The race of mortals that he had created had been living in small, isolated villages for several years. Prometheus had taught them many things. Zeus had watched his actions and had seen through them. He had sealed fire away from mortals which had condemned them to a slow death. Now Prometheus found fewer and fewer mortals to teach after every winter, many of the infants dying before they were able to walk. Without fire, the entire race would not survive half a decade.

Since Zeus sealed away his holy fire, Prometheus was left with only two options: he could either steal fire from the wheels of the sun chariot that Apollo drove or he could steal fire from Hephaistos' furnace. Because Apollo's chariot was only accessible during the day, Zeus would be able to see that act. The only logical course of action open to him was through Hephaistos.

Before he even entered the work area, Prometheus was overwhelmed by the perpetual heat. The air which burned his lungs was saturated with the smell of sulfur. His eyes watered to the point that he could hardly see, but still he plodded deeper into the mountain. Shortly the rumblings of the mountain were coupled with the clanging of a hammer against an anvil.

Rounding a corner he saw Hephaistos standing behind an anvil wearing a leather apron and wielding a large, broad-faced hammer. His skin was dirty but it glistened with sweat that covered his muscles. The leathery skin on his face contrasted with his sharp, tired eyes. He saw Prometheus approach him out of the corner of his eye.

"Ah, Prometheus!" his boisterous voice filled the cavern. "What brings you to my humble smithy?" He still hammered on his current project.

"I have come to relay a request from Zeus," Prometheus said.

Hephaistos gave him a shrewd look. "Why didn't Almighty Zeus send Hermes?"

"Hermes has occupied himself with pursuing a reluctant mortal, if you understand me."

"Ah, yes, perfectly," nodded Hephaistos. "What does the Almighty One desire of me?"

"It appears that Zeus has a rather bizarre headache. He has already had Paieon examine him and he has concluded that Zeus has a being inside his skull that is trying to break free. He suggested that if Zeus' skull could be cracked open the being trapped inside would be released, thereby ridding Zeus of his affliction."

"But wouldn't that kill him?"

"Paieon has prepared a draught that would seal the wound shortly after it has been inflicted. Zeus requires your participation for he trusts only your accurate hand to make the proper incision."

"Curious. Does he think I bear him no ill will for casting me from Olympos, for the crimes of wanting to build a smithy in the Glorious City and for my gross appearance?"

"He's willing to grant you any boon you desire, with the exception of moving your smithy to Olympos."

Hephaistos stopped hammering. He said something to himself, or seemed to in the relative silence that followed. He laid down his hammer, dipped the wrought iron he was forging into a nearby bucket of water, which spluttered and hissed, and then placed it on the anvil when it was sufficiently cooled. "Then I had better go to the Almighty's aid," he said as he took off his apron. His soiled tunic might have once been white. He walked with a noticeable limp to a bench over which he draped the apron and picked up an ax that leaned against the wall. Without looking back at Prometheus he limped his way out of the mountain.

Prometheus smiled mirthlessly to himself as he pulled out a dried fennel stalk out of his satchel. The marrow in the stalk made it the perfect conveyance for the fire as it would burn easier while leaving the shell intact. He extended one end into the furnace until it caught fire. After he made certain that the fire would keep he ran for the nearest mortal settlement.

"This was almost too easy," he thought to himself.

***

Zeus sat on his throne with his hand clutching his chin and trying without success to not clench his jaw. Somehow Prometheus had managed to give mortals fire. He was not concerned with how Prometheus had done it, but how he should penalize what has been done. Prometheus had been instrumental in his coup d'etat of the Titans, he could not forget that. However, this would be the only time that he would overlook Prometheus' transgression.

But somebody had to be punished! He did not like the idea that his will could be defied and no repercussions incurred. Who would be punished?

He looked up and saw his recently born daughter, Athene, enter his throne room. She was the being that had been trapped inside his skull, released by Hephaistos' ax. He touched the scar along his hairline. The trauma of the event started turning his hair white. And it was spreading out from the scar. Athene had been fully grown when she emerged and embodied a vast amount of knowledge. Poor Aphrodite though. She was the price that Hephaitos demanded for his aid.

"Hermes!" called Zeus, his voice echoed down all the halls of Olympos. Hermes swooped into the room before the last of the echoes died away. "Bring me Hephaistos. I have a special task for him."

Hermes darted away. Zeus folded his hands and hid a sinister smirk behind them.

***

Prometheus suppressed a grimace as he knelt before Zeus, the trickery he had exacted on his brother still fresh in his mind. Zeus had commissioned Hephaistos to create a woman, using the same technique that Prometheus had used. This woman was called Pandora, and Zeus gave to her a large storage jar, what the mortals called a pithos. In the pithos he had placed spirits, those that would benefit mortals, but only if they remained in the jar. Hermes brought Pandora and her jar to Epimetheus. Regardless of Prometheus' warning for him not to accept any unsolicited gifts from Zeus, Epimetheus welcomed the girl with open arms. Upon learning what was contained in the jar, he desired to see the spirits first-hand. Immediately after he lifted the lid all the spirits escaped. All, that is, except Elpis, or Hope. The only reason that mortals were left that was due to the fact that Prometheus had arrived just in time to restore the lid on the jar.

He had vowed then and there to humiliate Zeus.

The revenge he had decided upon was simple, but would be everlasting—ever the reminder to Zeus of his humiliation. For Zeus, Prometheus had prepared two dishes: one of the finest meat and offal from an ox but covered in its paunch; the other consisted of the ox's bones cleverly disguised with fat and herbal garnishes to appear appetizing. Both of the dishes sat before Zeus on his private dinner table. He regarded them with cold emotion. Prometheus noted that Zeus' white hair covered at least half of his head now and had started to spread to his beard.

"You say whichever one I choose will be what the mortals sacrifice to me?" inquired Zeus.

Prometheus did no move from his genuflection. "Yes, my Lord. This choice will be binding for the rest of time. Consider it my apology for my insubordination to your decree."

Zeus rubbed his chin as his calculating stare switched between Prometheus and the presented dishes. Prometheus remained prostrate as Zeus considered his choices. He did not met Zeus' eyes.

"I choose this dish," Zeus said and picked up the dish of cleverly disguised bones. Prometheus could not stifle a smirk when he saw which dish was picked. He watched as Zeus set the dish before himself and pulled out a fat covered bone. Zeus regarded the fat-slathered bone before he tried to eat it. His teeth clamped down and the impact jarred him. He examined the morsel again and found the deception. His eyes burned when he looked at Prometheus again.

"I forgave you for being a Titan for your aid in the war," Zeus said, his fury slowing his speech so that every word be bit out carried thunder. "I granted you amnesty for stealing fire. But now you have insulted me. Kratos! Apprehend this Titan!" He spat the last word.

Prometheus was subdued by Kratos before he even knew that Kratos had entered the room.

"Hermes, fetch Hephaistos, Paieon and Athene." Hermes flitted away while Zeus waited for the summoned to arrive. Paieon was the first to enter the throne room, followed by Athene and finally Hephaistos. "Paieon," Zeus said. "I need you to concoct me a brew to heal a wound every night, can it be done?" Paieon nodded. "Good, serve it to Prometheus as soon as it's ready. Athene, fetch my eagle. Bring him and his nest to a remote peak in the Caucasus Mountains. Hephaistos, create a set of fetters that can never break. Once you are done you are to accompany Kratos and chain Prometheus to the mountain. His punishment shall be every day my eagle will tear out and devour the traitor's liver and every night it shall fully heal. This punishment will go on until I decree otherwise."

Prometheus started to chuckle.

"What's so funny, wretch?"

"Look out unto the world, Zeus! I have made my mark upon it. You can torture mortals, drown them, instigate their wars, but they will find ways to survive; to remain happy and enjoy the life which I have given them. No matter what you do to them they will rise above it for I have shaped them in my image, and like myself they have no regard for you."

"Get him out of my sight! OUT!"

"What happened to her, Zeus? Huh? What did you do to her?"

Zeus averted his gaze momentarily. An impulse too sudden to cover up quickly enough. Prometheus looked where Zeus' eyes flicked to. Athene. Her eyes pierced back into his. They were defiant, but prudent—daring him it seemed. She brought her gaze to Paieon. Then it made sense. It made all too much sense. All Prometheus could do was laugh.

"You—you did it! Haha! You actually did it! You're no better than him, Zeus! Haha! You swallowed her! Hahahaha!"

Zeus slumped onto his throne and listened to Prometheus' laugh fade into the distance.