EoM Bk 1: The Gift of Fire
Copyright© 2026 by Carlos Santiago
Chapter 5: A Lasting Choice
“Sometimes the only choices you have are bad ones. But you still have to choose.”
— The Doctor (as portrayed by Peter Capaldi), Doctor Who, Series 8, Episode 8: “Mummy on the Orient Express” (original air date: 11 October 2014). Written by Jamie Mathieson; directed by Paul Wilmshurst; showrunner Steven Moffat. Doctor Who created by Sydney Newman. © 2014 British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). All rights reserved.
Zeus did not shout when the forge god was brought into the throne room.
That, more than anything, terrified Hephaestus, for he knew of the legendary temper of his step-father. He had witnessed some of his brutality when Zeus had battled Hera above Olympus.
While the other gods had been amazed by the battle, Hephaestus was the only one to understand just how powerful the king had been because hera was not just using magic, but armor that Hephaestus had crafted as well as an ethereal bow, and still this was not enough to bridge the gap between Hera and Zeus.
The others found that to be amazing, but he understood how much might one would need to have at their disposal to overcome Hera, and so, Hephaestus was terrified.
In this white and cold room that belonged to Zeus, he shivered in fear. Cratus and his siblings had struck Hephaestus multiple times before bringing him before the sovereign. They were strong, but they were nothing before Zeus.
Zeus sat upon his throne. His bolt of lightning was in a stand next to the throne. Even if the electrical spear was not by his side, Zeus would not without the crackling substance. His eyes were lit up in his anger.
“Hephaestus, you had been raised up as an Olympian despite your deficiencies,” Zeus said quietly.
He paused momentarily to stand. He did not walk to Hephaestus. For the moment, he was content to allow Hephaestus to understand that he was outnumbered five to one, but more than that, the children of Pallus did not matter because Zeus was there. He was worth more than five gods teaming together.
With the implication understood and reflected in Hephaestus’ eyes, he went on.
“Having thought you were sufficiently grateful for what I have given you, you will forgive my confusion when I discovered that you harbored a mortal woman in the early days of mortal men.”
Hephaestus’s eyes flashed open when he realized that Zeus knew of Pandora. It had been so long since he had seen her, yet still he thought of her.
He looked down to his blackened hands, and he wished that he had the physical might to take on Zeus, but he knew the truth of the matter when he thought of his unevenly distributed proportions all along his body. Even if he was not imbalanced, his power was in making, not fighting. He could scarcely hope to defeat Ares in a fight, and he had little to no hope in defeating Zeus.
He swallowed the saliva in his throat before he answered, knowing he would not have a sufficient reply for his king.
“I did not make her, Majesty” he said.
“No. You only harbored her and hid her from me long enough to help the species multiply,” Zeus said cooly.
Hephaestus was about to answer that statement when lightning struck him square in the chest, knocking him onto his back.
It was not a bolt meant to kill as Zeus would not want to kill the premiere crafter on Olympus.
“Do not test my patience with excuses,” Zeus said, taking a step forward.
He looked at Hephaestus with an air of disgust. When Hephaestus tried to rise, Zeus struck him again. This blow came from his fist without the aid of flashing fulmination. His muscles were enough.
“Did you or did you not defy me?”
Hephaestus was gasping desperately for air when another blow struck his face. He could not laugh or cry or even beg. He knew what was to come. Too much energy was required to even admit how much pain he was in.
“I swear I did not mean to,” he said hoarsely.
Zeus stopped to allow him to continue, but as he stood over Hephaestus, the forge master knew that he would not be leaving this throne room without receiving further abuse.
“I found this statue on a beach before coming to Olympus,” he managed to say. “On the day you breathed life into the mortal men, she burst to life. I did not know what to do.”
Zeus said nothing.
“I quickly came to care for her. I did not know that you had commands about mortals until some time after.”
“But you still defied me?”
“I could not allow you to destroy her. She was like my daughter. Surely, you can understand. You protect my sister.”
Zeus regarded Hephaestus for a long moment before turning away. He understood what the forge god was asking for without verbalizing it.
The mention of Hébè was a risky one as it linked Hephaestus to Zeus, but it also reminded Zeus that Hephaestus was not his son, so the gamble was the last effort he could give before Zeus could decide what to do.
“You should have told me,” Zeus said at last.
Hephaestus closed his eyes in an effort that might have been deferential, but he was in no position to incline or bow his head.
“Yes,” Zeus continued, calm now, almost thoughtful. “You should have told me because you did defy me, Hephaestus, no matter how you wish to dress the matter up.”
He turned back, lightning coiling once more around his arm.
“Cratus, have your siblings return Hephaestus to his palace...” Zeus said.
Hephaestus let out a sigh of relief.
Cratus stepped forward.
“But to make sure my wife’s son knows not to allow this to ever happen again, be sure to break as many bones in his body without killing him.”
The order was given as though Zeus were commenting on how the gold in his throne room had a perfect reflection. This was no joke, and rigid brutality was being promised.
Nike and Bia picked Hephaestus up by the arms.
“My king... No!” Hephaestus cried out.
However, Zelus cracked his fist against Hephaestus. One bone had been broken, and they would break many more to give the forge god his consequence. When they were done, they would remind him that this was mercy.
As they dragged him from the throne room, Zeus did not look back.
“You seem pleased,” Cratus said from behind his lord and master.
Zeus turned to reveal a smile that was not cruel but satisfied. That gratification might have been far more dangerous to the protector.
“Believe it or not, Hephaestus has given me clarity, which is why I did not kill the imbecile,” Zeus said. “And now, I know exactly how things must be.”
“How so?” Cratus wondered.
“I can see these little people suffer, but Pandora thrives here. When I breathed life into the other humans, they were as the ones now. They were not as intelligent nor as deep in their bonds as Pandora.”
“I see,” Cratus said.
Zeus shook his head.
“I do not think you do, but I do.”
“Would you elaborate, my king?”
“Hephaestus’ love, his fire, the gift of his caring. One or all of that has made Pandora greater than her contemporaries. It is clear that she does not pass on that trait. Humans are too stupid to accept it as they are. The nymphs could not pass on divinity to the humans, which is good, but by removing Pandora and the nymphs from their family lines, they will not be better than they are, and within a few generations, they will die out on their own.”
“So then what?”
“I need to make sure the gods do not give gifts, blessings, boons, or fire to humanity. After this, I do not need to worry about that disgusting species ever again.”
Persephone sat on the stone porch with her bare feet tucked beneath her. She observed the setting sun, and she thought of the sun god that had only crash-landed earlier that very day.
She did not hear Hestia approach because she was caught up in the boring peace.
“Persephone, you’re brooding, darling,” her aunt said brightly. “That is no way for the daughter of Demeter to act.”
Persephone jumped, then laughed despite herself. Hestia always had a way to make Persephone feel at ease.
“Auntie!”
Hestia accepted the hug from her niece. Then, after their embrace, she leaned against the porch column while Persephone sat back down.
“Your mother’s inside, and you’re out here,” she said. “So I am assuming since you’re moping, then she must be sighing dramatically.”
She gave a reassuring, conspiratorial smile that Persephone was familiar with.
“Or maybe she’s rearranging some part of her palace or the lands for the third time today.”
“Yeah,” Persephone said with a sigh. “That sounds like her.”
The fire goddess knew better. She had been in the life of both Demeter and Persephone for all of their lives. As the eldest daughter of Cronos and Rhea, she had been a stalwart (if not aloof) eldest sibling. She had been there for Hera and Demeter on Olympus before the Great War, and while Hera had been more self-sufficient, Hestia had never abandoned Demeter.
“Seph, Darling, tell me what is wrong.”
“She won’t let me go anywhere,” Persephone burst out.
She tried not to sound like she was whining, but that did not go well.
“I cannot go to Olympus nor the sea palaces of Poseidon or Oceanus. I know no one wants to go to the Underworld, but even being there would be better than being cooped up here all the time.”
Hestia could not help but chuckle. No one wanted to visit the Underworld. While Hades was a pillar of strength and good manners, he was as ostracized by the other gods as one could be. After all, no one wanted to be in the dead and dreary land that was the Underworld. Its ruler had been contaminated by that association, and as such, the Lower Realm was seen as the most dismal of places to be.
“You say that now,” Hestia reprimanded. “But be careful. The Sisters of Fate have a funny way of planning our futures.”
“Not everything out there can be a danger to me though, Auntie.”
Hestia considered her niece for a moment. Whingeing aside, she knew the child had a point, but if one was to be an effective mediator, they were meant to make sure each side saw the point of view of the other.
“Well, I suppose you’re right that not everything can be a danger to you, but your mother’s not wrong either. The outside places are dangerous. There are gods who will smile to your face while planning to betray you as soon as your back is turned. Olympus is full of ladder climbing gods who want to get as close to the king as queen as possible.”
“Not everyone will be like that,” Persephone said with a frown.
“No. Not everyone,” conceded Hestia.
“Wait a minute! You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am the side of reality,” Hestia replied calmly. “That means it is entirely possible that you’re both wrong; you know that, right?”
She recalled the past. Some events that might have been mythologized to be bigger or smaller than they actually were in reality bothered Hestia. As the eldest Olympian, she knew the complexities of the interactions of the gods with one another.
While they would never have an all-out war with one another as Zeus and his brothers had with Cronos, that did not mean that circumstances would not turn divine beings against one another in lesser ways.
She needed to be the one to be honest about the situations that they all found themselves in. The stories were nice, but the truth was the only way they might be able to fix the relationships that would inevitably be damaged.
“Olympus was not kind to your mother,” she said. “She was used and made to be smaller than she is. Someone like her would voice her opinion and be told she was being difficult to deal with. So maybe she is hard on you, but it is a mother’s job to protect their child.”
Persephone looked down at her hands.
“But I’m not a child anymore.”
“No,” Hestia agreed.
Then she inclined her head to observe the contrary.
“But also yes. A daughter is always a child to her mother, Persephone. There’s nothing you or I can do about that.”
“That’s not fair!”
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