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Fall of Apollo part 3
Apollo couldn't sleep.
He got through day one, just 364 to go. It was quiet in the house, only the sounds of crickets flowed through the air. He attempted to sleep but he just wasn’t tired. Mentally he was exhausted but he just couldn't sleep. He sat up in the bed, huffing, and decided to just admire the night and look at the moon.
It was full and it made his heart ache, missing his sister. He wondered..
He got up, put his robes back on, and went outside.
He walked out a small distance from the house, feeling the grass touch his skin, it was soft and pleasant. Once he felt far enough away, he looked to the moon.
“Artemis, if you can hear this. I’m sorry about this whole damn mess.” his voice raised suddenly, feeling all his anger for Zeus come back but none of the heat of the sun that accompanied it like usual. “But if I had ever thought, for a second! That Zeus would kill him, I would have seen about taking that ability of his away! I would have actually fixed it-”
Suddenly he felt the wind blow near him, ruffling his blonde hair as his sister appeared before him with a sad smile. “Hello, brother.” Apollo smiled, the first real smile he’d had all day, and ran to hug her, arms out but ended up falling into the grass with a grunt.
Artemis laughed at him before kneeling to him as he sat up. Apollo blushed. “I forgot, we can’t actually touch.”
“It’s alright, I think we both needed the amusement. How are you fairing?”
He stood, picking grass out of his hair. “Better than I thought I would but that might have been calculated on Zeus' part. Where I landed is a vineyard. My son helped them, brought one of them back from the dead and now Dionysus is his patron.”
Artemis gave a nod but had suspicions of Hermes helping somehow, it was just too lucky. “That is rather lucky, At least it’s working out, you have a shelter and people willing to help you.”
“But it’s not home.” He said softly, looking away from her.
She frowned. “No, it’s not. And Olympus is not the same with your absence; it’s too quiet.”
He gave her a look. “Is that your way of saying I’m a chatterbox?”
She chuckled. “It’s not wrong but I meant your music, you idiot.”
“Oh. yeah.” He blushed again.
“Helios is helping.’
“Figured.”
Artemis sighed. “I have to be going, I’ll visit as often as I can.”
“Asclepius’ funeral is tomorrow night,” he said bluntly.
She frowned, walking closer to him. “Will you be alright?”
He looked away. “I don’t know. I lost it today at my temple. Do you know how hard it is to see my believers and worshipers and be unable to thank them or help them? One girl was upset because she felt unworthy of me, she wrote me a poem she was going to throw away. I helped her the best I could in this form but…I wish I could do more.” His eyes watered but he wiped at them quickly.
She smiled sadly. “You always were a bleeding heart. I will be there, I have to be there to help my baby brother.”
Apollo gave a playful glare. “By one minute, I am not a baby.”
“Sure you're not,” She said with a smile before it turned into a frown. “I have to go. I will see you tomorrow but you must not acknowledge me, very few can actually see me and if they know you can see me they may get suspicious or even try to recruit you.”
“I will do my best.”
“I know you will. I will see you tomorrow night.”
She was gone then, disappearing into the air.
He sighed, feeling the coldness of the night air on his skin, loneliness creeping back in as he walked back to the house, waiting for the sun to rise.
By the time he managed to sleep, the sun was rising and Kasandra was waking everyone up for the day. He grumbled as he hid in the pillow and blankets.
She opened the fabric curtains from the window, letting the dawning sunlight come in. “Come! We’ve no time to waste, Apollo has blessed us with another beautiful day and there’s much to do. The first meal of the day is waiting for you on the table.”
She left, leaving the door open for him.
He sighed heavily, feeling heavy from the lack of sleep. Fuck, it was gonna be a rough second day.
He got up and dressed, walking into the kitchen, feeling his stomach growling as he sat at the table.
He was happy to see he wasn’t in this alone, Maria looked just as grumpy to be up, just staring at her bowl of porridge, playing with it.
Georgio gave a friendly but tired smile. “Good morning, did you sleep well?”
Apollo went to answer but was interrupted by a yawn. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Kasandra frowned. “You should have come to me, I have a tea that can help. Maria often has nightmares and the tea helps her very well.”
Apollo shook his head. “I’m not going to wake you up just because I can’t sleep.”
“Nonsense. Tonight you’re having some tea before bed.”
Apollo smiled weakly, it was a nice feeling cared for. “Yes, mam.”
“So, Phoebus, ever harvested grapes before?” Georgio asked as he took a bite out of his bread.
Apollo frowned, he was close to saying yes but he’s never actually harvested grapes, only heard of it from Dionysus and their many talks and he knows that’s a difference between knowing it and doing it.
“No, actually. I’ve read about it though.”
“It’s not that hard, I’ll show you while the girls are getting water for the day.”
Apollo just nodded at that, starting to eat the bowl of porridge.
Once breakfast was done they cleaned up, Kasandra and Maria going to the stream nearby to gather water for the day as Georgio took Apollo to the grape fields.
It was comparatively smaller than most vineyards but it was still just as beautiful with at least six rows of grape vines ready for harvest.
Georgio went to the shed and got the baskets for the harvest and a few pruning shears, handing one of each to Apollo. “Take these and follow me.”
Apollo did as he was told, a bit excited to be learning something new. Georgio showed him, going to a grapevine. “You want to give the grapes a good look over first, make sure they are ripe. They should be firm and purple. If there’s still some green on one or two of the grapes, that’s alright but if most of the plant is green, leave it, it’s not ready.”
He showed where to cut and showed how to place them in the basket so they don’t get damaged too much.
“Think you got it?”
Apollo nodded. “Yeah, not too hard.”
“No. The hardest part is growing them, to begin with. Now let’s get to harvesting.”
A few minutes later the girls came back from getting the water, storing it away before coming to help with the harvest.
It took a little over an hour but all was harvested and now came the time-consuming part; crushing the grapes. But it was Maria’s favorite.
All the grapes they could fit went onto a screen that was framed and held together with wood, a big wooden, abit of a tall bowl. it. It was nearly as tall as Apollo.
Maria tried to jump it but it was too short. Apollo chuckled, picking her up, and placing her on. “There ya go.”
She didn’t let go and attempted to tug him up to crush the grapes with him. “Crush them with me, it’s really fun!”
Apollo couldn’t say no to her. He chuckled as he climbed up. “Alright-“
One step on it and he nearly slipped. Yeah, this was very different from just talking about it.
Kasandra and Georgio both nearly ran to him. “Are you alright?” Kassandra asked.
Apollo groaned, he didn’t fall but he wished he did. His muscles tensed up and although nothing was sprained or torn, it hurt for a few seconds before he steadied himself. “I’m alright. Never stood on one of these before.”
Once he stood he stopped still, seeing Dionysus's figure leaning against the shed that was nearby, watching with an amused smile eating a fig. He just gave a little wave. “And you said this was easy.”
Maria was already stomping with giggles, nearly jumping on the screen.
The wine god chuckled that a five-year-old was better at this than Apollo, a grown man.
Apollo remembered what Artemis said, he shouldn’t be making it known he could see and talk with the other deities. Probably only going to be able to either when alone or at his altar.
He pretended he wasn’t there and focused on balancing Instead, trying to crush the fruit beneath his feet.
It was fun but it was uncomfortable at first, they were squishy between his feet, getting in between his toes and it felt weird but he got used to it,
Kasandra and Georgio added more grapes and it was about 45 minutes before all the grapes were crushed and all the juices they could get out were all in the bowl.
It was easier to get off the grape crusher than on but even Maria made that look as easy as walking by jumping down.
Georgio came over with a towel for them. “Know what we do next Phoebus?” Apollo thought about it, even looking over to Dionysus for an answer who shook his head with a grin. “Nope. With all the talks we’ve had, you know this.”
Apollo tried not to react to that, just thinking hard, half the talks they’ve had where he rambled on about wine, they were drunk on said wine.
“We put it into its barrel to ferment?”
“Yes. But right now I lack an empty barrel so we will just get this put into some bottles to store until it can be moved. I have a shipment of wine bottles coming in a few hours. Now let’s get the screen off and see what we have.”
Just as they moved it, Apollo saw Dionysus swish his hand toward the barrel. They took the screen off to reveal a nearly full tub of grape juice.
Georgio smiled, folding his hands. “Praise Dionysus, look at the wonderful harvest. I hope we have enough decanters.”
Apollo looked at all the grape juice and then looked back at the wine god who was gone as fast as he showed. Apollo rolled his eyes and smiled, it was nice to at least actually see his friend even if he couldn’t interact with him.
It took a few minutes to get all the decanters. There were at least twenty, of varying sizes. They all got to work filling them, Maria carrying them carefully down to the wine cellar, of the ones she could carry.
Once the juice was low enough Apollo helped take some decanters to the cellar.
Eventually, there was just a small, thin layer of grape juice that they wouldn't be able to bottle, too shallow to get the liquid in and lots of leftover skins. Kasandra came over with a large bowl of water and a towel. “Alright you two, let's get your feet washed.” Maria ran over, her sticky feet picking up any loose grass and dirt.
Her small feet were cleaned and dried quickly. Kasandra looked up at Apollo. “Phoebus, come, let me clean your feet.”
Apollo blushed, feeling weird about the idea of someone washing them. “Oh, I can get them myself.” He said, walking over and starting to place his feet in when Kasandra grabbed his foot and started cleaning, making him yelp in surprise. “Really, I don’t mind doing this myself.”
“That's not the point. You and Maria have helped and aided the juices that help us keep our livelihood, our home, and feed our bellies; you've taken care of us, I will take care of you.”
He swallowed down the complex feelings mulling around his head, of her having no idea who he actually is and the act of devotion she was giving. Once she was done and dried them he looked over at the grape skins on the screen. “What will happen to the leftovers?”
“They’ll be made for plant fertilizer, we use everything we possibly can.” Suddenly a small distance away, a horse and a large buggy were coming up the path to their home. Kasandra smiled. “What great timing, the bottles are being delivered.”
Apollo looked at the sky, getting an idea of the time, inwardly groaning; it was barely into midmorning. Apollo was helping them unload the bottles when Georgio saw the weariness on Apollo's face. “Son, why don’t we stop and have a small meal? You look like you need it.”
Apollo shook his head, holding a box of bottles. “Maybe after this is unloaded.”
“That’s already done. We got most of them, Kasandra can take care of the payment and once she does she can join us, come, let's get some food.” Apollo just followed, carrying the box of bottles carefully inside and placing it nicely and out of the way on the floor.
Georgio got some food of bread, olive oil, garlic, cheese and some fruit, bringing it over to the table. “Here, the girls will join us in a few minutes. You didn't sleep, you need it more than us.” He started putting together a small sandwich of bread and cheese with some garlic olive oil, dipping it in, urging Apollo to eat as well. “Eat.”
Apollo reached for an apple when Kasandra and Maria came in, sitting at the table with him. Then he took a bite.
He hated to admit, he did feel a little better after eating but it was not a replacement for sleep. The rest of the day was bottling wine bottles, Dionysus watching Apollo again, but this time with a more studying eye and less playful, making sure he does it right.
Thankfully he didn't butt in or say he did anything right or wrong so that's good for something, even gave a few smiles and nods his way when he did it right.
By the time they managed to fill all the bottles and then move the new wine into the barrels and cycle them, it was past midday. But everything was done, for now at least.
Kasandra smiled, going to Apollo. “Phoebus, Maria, and I are about to go into the city and deliver the wine, would you like to join us?”
Apollo gave a nod, feeling tired but sleep is not for hours and he can’t just not do something. “Sure.”
Georgio smiled, going over to Kasandra, kissing her softly, and then kneeling to hug Maria. “May Hermes bless your travel and bring wealth.” She smiled. “Thank you love. Ok, Maria, Phoebus, let's go.”
They got the bottles loaded and the three of them rode in the horse buggy, the driver leading the horses back to town. It was soothing, watching the trees and grass, bees gathering pollen, and the sun beating on his face but it wasn't too humid. He could fall asleep here.
He hadn't realized he actually did doze off when the buggy stopped suddenly at the first delivery, the temple to Dionysus.
He rolled his eyes but had an amused smile. There was music being played and a few women dancing when they pulled up. One of them broke away, her purple robes flowing behind her as she went to them. “Welcome! Here, let me help.”
She and a few others of his cult came over and helped unload their delivery of wine which was a surprising two boxes, which was about twelve bottles of wine but there were at least fifty people at his temple, at this moment, during rituals or festivities it’s closer to 200-500. Apollo frowned as he handed the last box over to them. “Is this enough wine for you? I know you can use a lot during your worship.”
She smiled. “We do. We try to order wine for many sellers, both small and large. We aim to support as many winemakers as possible. This won’t be the only delivery this week.”
“Oh, is that what the money goes to?”
She nodded. “Yes, some of it goes to charities but a large sum goes to supporting wine sellers. This wine is actually my favorite.” She said, with a soft smile. “Some wines can be a little bitter or dry or the alcohol is too much. I think the sweetness of this one is just right.”
Kasandra smiled, bowing. “Thank you very much my lady for your kind words. May the Lord Dionysus bless you.”
They left and went to Athena's temple and he felt weird going to Zeus temple, trying not to glare at it or resist the will to throw rocks at it.
After that was a few homes and then back home. It was nearly sunset when they got back, Kasandra paying the driver very well and thanking him. ’I’ll see you next month Alexander.”
He just waved with a smile, leading the horse and buggy away.
Kasandra smiled wearily. “I think we all earned a big dinner. Come, let's eat and after we will go to the funeral. Oh, Phoebus, do you need any black for it? I see you only have what is on you.”
Apollo frowned. “That is all I have.”
“Tomorrow we should go to town and get you some clothing, winter will be in a few months and you will need something. But that's tomorrow, go relax and I’ll get food ready.”
Maria yawned, leaning against her mother. “I’m too tired to eat mama.”
Kasandra smiled as she picked her daughter up. “I know love, it has been a long day.”
As they walked inside, Apollo spoke up. “Would I be able to borrow that robe I used yesterday for it?”
“Oh, yes. Georgio mainly useses it for autumn anyway, plenty of time before then.”
Apollo just nodded, agreeing, wondering how he’s going to be at the funeral. Worried he could accidently out himself or worse, out himself and people not believe it and think he’s speaking blasphemy.
He knows he’s going to be an emotional wreck when he sees his son's body and all the people that he helped. At least with the hood on the light robe he can hide a little bit.
Once dinner was done, the sun was set and the family started dressing in their funeral dressings. He felt anxiety thrumming through him, his heart rate picking up.
Soon they were walking down the path, Georgio leading the way.
He felt his hands shaking, trying to hide them but Maria must have sensed it. She reached her little hand up and held his. “Funerals make me sad too. Last year my pet cat died but Mama promised Hades took good care of him.”
Apollo smiled softly to her. “He sure did, he’s very kind.”
“It’s sad that others don’t think so. They’re so scared of him. I’m not, I think he’s really nice, he’s just doing his job.”
Apollo smiled, knowingly. She would be a future patron of Hades, he’s sure of it. “You're absolutely right.”
When they arrived, Apollo felt his heart drop. Although many people were attending he could only focus on his son's body sitting atop the funeral pyre, although he was dressed he could see the scars the lightning strike left behind on his chest, traveling to his neck and exposed shoulders.
People didn't notice as he walked closer and closer to him, or they didn't care. He reached out with a shaking hand, taking his son's limp hand in his. Suddenly Artemis, Hermes and Dionysus showed up on the other side, each sharing a sad expression, Artemis placing a hand over his, even if they’re not technically touching. “I’m so sorry for this loss brother.”
He saw his friends and sister, happy to not feel alone in mourning him but wishing so badly he could talk to them. Apollo looked to her, eyes watery before staring down at his son's body.
He wanted to hold him close so badly, to cry into his skin until he exhausted himself.
He did bring his limp hand to his lips to give one last kiss, uncaring of the people staring.
Kasandra went to him, gently trying to pull him away. “Phoebus, they need to start.” Apollo let go reluctantly, a whimper escaping. Kassandra didn’t understand his grief but comforted him all the same, embracing him as they moved to a safe distance.
It wasn’t a big funeral, other than Apollo, he didn't have any human relatives or family, the funeral was made up of all the people he helped, leaving offerings of flowers and poems and various other items as the fire started.
Apollo felt the need to stop the fire, wanting to embrace him one more time. He just held onto Kasandra tighter, turning his head and sobbing into her shoulder, completely forgetting to put his hood up to hide like he had planned to.
Dionysus watched longingly. “I wish I could comfort him. It feels like Zeus has cursed us as well.”
Hermes agreed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Just glad the luck I gave him worked.”
Artemis smiled weakly. “Knew it.”
“What? Wasn’t gonna let him get into shit with Zeus and not have some luck on his side.” The deities just silently agreed before the funeral was interrupted.
“You're all mourning a scam artist!” A man yelled, walking up, a few following him. Some of the other mourners glared. The priest went to him, a soft glare on his face. “This is a solemn occasion, if you want to protest it, please do so once it is over, not while others mourn.”
Apollo watched with a growing, protective anger, slowly coming out of Kasandra’s hold. The new man glared at the priest. “What's the use of protesting if it isn't to disrupt? This man doesn't deserve the respect you're giving him! He doesn't deserve your tears! He never helped anyone, the only people he brought back from the dead were actors he paid!”
Artemis saw the look on Dionysus’s face, knowing what it could cause. Artemis stood in front of him. “This is a human situation, we have no need to get involved.”
“Do you not hear him? How is he disrespecting him?”
“I do but it's a squabble, we have no need to get involved, especially you.”
Dinouys gave a soft glare to the ground. “Fine but I make no promises I won’t torment him with nightmares.”
Artemis accepted that as she watched her brother marching over to him.
Apollo was already in the man's face, a familiar, righteous anger bubbling up. “You better shut up right now.” He reached for his bow, muscle memory but found air, making him even more angry.
“Why? What are you gonna do? I’m just trying to wake these idiots up to the fact you’re giving your respect to the wrong fucking man. Asclepius was a scammer, paying actors to bring back-”
Apollos fist moved faster than he could think, he may not have his bow or arrows forged from the sun but he has his fists. But his fists didnt stop and soon the other was punching back but he got the upper hand,slamming him to the ground before getting two punches in, two people pulling him off, struggling to pull him off.
Apollo screamed at the man, not feeling the tears going down his cheeks. “You take my son's name out of your mouth! He saved hundreds of lives and he paid the price for it! And now he’s gone.” His voice broke as his yelling gradually became soft and sad.
The man was holding his face, blood pouring from his nose, his friends sneering at Apollo as they carried him away. People at the funeral could only watch and gossip, not wanting to ask questions, not when he looked so devastated. Kasandra comforted him but Georgio watched, more questions in his head.
Between the prayer Phoebus had to Dionuysus and his extreme reaction to the asshole who interrupted. Phoebus called Asclepius his son and he has claimed before in a conversion that his father was Apollo, it’s how he got his gift of resurrection. Although it wasn't something widely known, if at all. Georgio just likes to talk and get to know people, especially those who have helped him so much.
He watched the man who called himself Phoebus, sobbing into Kassandra's shoulder, Maria hugging around his legs. He looked very similar to the statue of Apollo at the temple, so much so it made his heart nearly stop at the possibility.
Was this mysterious man actually Apollo? And if so, why is he here and human? Does that mean Asclepius was actually struck down by Zeus?
Phoebus was quiet on the walk home, Kasandra putting him in charge of Maria, knowing he needed something to take his mind off of what happened.
While Maria distracted him, Georgio took this moment to talk to his wife quietly. “Love, I don’t think he is who he says.”
Kasandra frowned. “What do you mean?”
“This may sound crazy but, I think he may be Apollo, walking among us.”
She shook her head. “What is your reasoning dear?”
“Last night, I was giving him a tour of the wine cellar, he wanted to pray to Dionysus and I left him alone but I wanted to make sure the candles got put out; his prayer wasn't a prayer, it sounded like he was talking to a friend, said things like being dropped here by Zeus. and just now he called Asclepius his son and his emotional display at the funeral, that's something only a parent knows.”
She frowned. “He did call him his son..”
“And how similar he looks to his statue at the temple.”
“He did want to hide when we went and he was so upset being there and I had no idea why, he just said it’s complicated. Oh goodness, you really think..” She asked, shock in her voice even as it trailed off, watching Maria talk to him about anything and everything, holding her hand. “You really think he’s Apollo, walking among us?”
Gergio sighed. “Only one way to find out.”
“No, even if he is, I don’t think he’d want to talk about it. Think about it; he’s been cast out from Olmpus, his son died by Zeus' hand and now seeing his own son's funeral?”
“Tomorrow then.”
She just nodded, staring at Phoebus who laughed at Marias jokes and wondered with a pit in her stomach; is this young man really Apollo?
Fall of Apollo
A retelling of the myth of Asclepius, Apollos son
Ancient Greece
Thanatos sliced through the sickly soul, the middle-aged man’s soul looking at his dead body with melancholy as his family grieved.
His young daughter taking it the hardest. She was only five years old, she was their miracle child. He and his wife struggled and prayed to the gods for fertility, bringing various deities offerings in hopes they could bear a child.
He was nearly 48 years old when his wife announced she was pregnant and brought their beautiful daughter into the world. She was his everything, his daughter became the reason to keep getting up in the morning, to bring home a better harvest, and better pay, to work to get her the best education and childhood she could.
But he was struck with illness, fast and lethal. His daughter sobbed so hard into her mother's side, hiccuping with the force of her grief. Her mother cried, holding her daughter tightly to her.
The man looked to Thanatos. “Will my family be alright?”
“In time. Ready to go?”
The man just nodded, letting the death god show him to the underworld.
Hades signed the papers of a few souls. The next one was a man, who died of illness.
Name: Georgios
Age:53
Status: Middle-class, peasant farmer
Marital status: Married
Family: wife and one daughter
Death: illness
The soul stood before him, concern on his face as if he was more worried about the life he left behind on earth and not where he might go.
Hades saw the worry in the man and sighed, he didn’t like sending the souls if they needed some closure first. “What is on your mind?”
The man jumped, so zoned out of where he was. “My family. I worry for them, my lord. I know Thanotos said they would be alright but my daughter, she’s only five, this is her first lesson of death.”
“It is necessary to learn and cope.”
“But so harshly? She is just a toddler, barely a child and she lost her father.”
“I cannot change your death and even if I had the ability I would not change it; death is inevitable and at some point, she has to learn to cope with it. I’m sorry the lesson is so harsh.”
The man opened his mouth to reply but his soul disappeared, along with his paper from Hades desk.
Hades just blinked, looking at where the man was and where the paper was.
“What just happened?”
On earth, Asclepius was passing through and heard the grieving cries of the child. He knew them, he’s helped them before. He went to the door, gently knocking.
The door opened and he saw her husband dead on the couch of their living room, behind her. She cried, wiping her face clear best she could, it was wet with tears that never stopped. “I tried to find you but the illness, it was taking him so fast and I didn’t want to be away too long. And she’s too young to send out alone. He passed away about an hour ago.”
He frowned, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, blonde curls almost in his blue eyes. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Suddenly the little girl came running, tugging on his arm. “Bring Daddy back!” She sobbed. “Bring daddy back Asclepius! please!” He kneeled down and hugged her. “I’ll see what I can do.” He stood back up and went to the husband's body.
It was pale, eyes open and vacant, limp as a dying leaf on a tree. He put his hands on him, a golden glow coming from them as he worked his abilities.
It didn’t take long before the corpse, now living body was awake, gasping and blinking in astonishment. “Where am I?”
The daughter ran over, hugging her father, sobbing into his neck. “Don’t leave me.”
He hugged her, but was still confused. He sat up with her, holding her close. He looked to Asclepius. “Won’t you be in trouble for this?”
He just smiled. “You let me worry about that, take care of this little girl, she needs her father.”
He could only nod as he decided not to question it, hugging his daughter so close with a watery smile.
Hades let the one soul go. One brought-back soul won’t upset the balance of the universe.
But slowly more souls kept disappearing on him, more papers gone. It became enough that even other souls in the hall of judgment witnessed it once or twice.
Then he realized he should have not let this go.
Before he could call for Hermes to send a message to Zeus about it. Thanatos was next to him in a second, looking angry. “We have a problem.”
Hades just looked over with one raised, dark eyebrow. “You’ve noticed?”
“Noticed? I sliced a soul from their body and he came along and brought them back, I witnessed it.”
Hades cursed. “Has anyone been able to talk to Apollo about this?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Very well. I will send a message to Zeus to have a talk with him.”
Thanatos crossed his arms, irritation still coming off of him in waves. “He better. And Apollo had better make him listen or there will be consequences.”
Hades sighed, he hoped consequences were not needed. Asclepius was a good kid, too nice for his own good which is probably what led to this little issue.
“Hermes!” He called, voice echoing and booming in the empty hall of judgment.
Hermes was there in a second. “Whatcha need big guy?”
Hades went to his desk, getting some paper, and using his pen. “I need you to deliver this message to Zeus, it’s of utmost importance.” He wrote out the message quickly and moved to the next one.
“And this one to Apollo. Just as important.” Hermes looked at the letters. Both in his hands now. “Two letters from you, on the same day? Something’s going on.”
“Asclepius is bringing the dead back to life.” He said, matter of fact.
Hermes' eyes went wide. “Ok…that’s not what I expected. How is he even doing that? Isn’t he, ya know, human?”
“I don’t know nor care how he’s doing it but that he’s doing it in the first place. Now please, deliver those messages.”
Hermes gave a little salute before disappearing. Hades looked over at Thanatos. “Do you think Asclepius will listen?”
“I hope so. I fear what Zeus may do if he doesn’t. Knowing Asclepius, it’s hard to stay mad at him. He does this with the purest intentions, wanting only to help the humans. It’s hard to see a loved one grieving and struggling with their loved one's death. Especially a parent's grief.”
Hades just nodded in agreement. Asclepius was a good kid, too nice for his own good but that’s what’s getting him into this mess. He’s blurring the boundaries between life and death and not thinking of the consequences.
Nyx showed suddenly to the two. “I’m sure you two are aware of what is happening.”
“That Apollo's son is resurrecting the dead? Yes.” Hades stated.
Nyx gave a weak glare, angry at the situation. “The fates are livid. The only reason they have not cut his thread is because of his father.”
“Hades sent messages to both Zeus and Apollo, it’s being handled, mother.”
Nyx softened, just a bit. “Good. I hope it can be resolved quickly.”
On Mount Olympus, Apollo was playing some music on his Lyre while checking in on his followers. Some of the offerings manifested near him, like jewelry and artwork, and music, others food offerings that he would snack on in between notes and songwriting.
He was munching on a sun cake when Hermes showed up. He swallowed his bite down and smiled. “Hermes, hey!” But he noticed the sour expression on the message. “What’s is it?”
“You’re not gonna like this.” He said as he handed over the letter from Hades. “There’s another one for Zeus as well.”
Apollo sighed, putting his Lyre down, taking the scroll, and reading.
Your son is resurrecting the dead, talk to him, please.
Hades.
Apollo groaned. “Fuck..and Zeus probably has the same message huh?”
Hermes walked over to the plate of suncakes. “Most likely.” He went to grab one but was shot with an arrow, a small, little one but still enough to form as a warning. “Ow!”
Apollo just gave a playful glare, putting his bow back in its little pocket dimension.
“Well, that’s what you get for taking food that isn’t yours. Let’s go to Zeus. Together; I don’t trust you around my offerings.” Hermes mock gasped. “Rude, I would never do such a thing.” He says as he manages to stuff a suncake in his togas pocket.
Zeus was laughing heartily at a joke Dioynous made. Zeus was feeling bored and called on the wine god. Of course, he came with the best wine and the best jokes.
Zeus was a little drunk when Hermes and Apollo showed up.
Dioynous immediately smiled at them, bringing two more wine glasses into existence, floating by him. “What a surprise! Here, have a drink.”
Hermes got the letter out, and Apollo gently turned down the wine. “Unfortunately I don’t come with good news.”
Zeus frowned. “Whatever is the matter? Is everything alright?”
Hermes just handed Zeus his letter.
Zeus read it over.
Asclepius is resurrecting the dead. Please work this out.
Hades.
Zeus huffed. “Not a man of many words. But this is a problem. Apollo, what do you plan to do about this?”
Apollo sighed. “I will talk with him. I knew his abilities as a healer surpassed me but I didn’t know he was raising the dead. I will talk to him immediately, I promise, this will not happen again.”
“It better not or there will be dire consequences. For both of you.”
Apollo frowned, bowing to him quickly. “Yes, father.”
Hermes just watched, Apollo left without any goodbye or last word, it made him worry for the sun god and his son.
On earth, Asclepius was helping mend injuries from a farming accident. When he was done, the people thanked him profusely, the injury would have been fatal if left untreated. When he turned around he saw his father, looking irritated, arms crossed.
It wasn’t too often his father visited him directly, and this visit was not looking to be a good one. Apollo sighed, he hated having to be so stern and angry. “We need to talk.”
Asclepius walked over to him. Apollo sighed heavily, already feeling guilty for the lecture. “How many humans have you brought back to life?”
His son looked away, fidgeting with his hands, running his hand through blonde curls. “Just a few.”
“Do not lie to me.”
“I’m not.” Asclepius pleaded but his hands shook with anxiety.
Apollo sighed, again, he wasn’t going to make this easy, was he? His eyes glowed a soft gold and was easily able to see past his lies. He glared as he walked closer.
“40 is a few?”
“Many of them were infants-“
“That doesn’t matter, you are playing with the natural laws. You can’t do that.”
“What am I supposed to do if a mother comes with a dying baby?”
“You let them die!” Apollo shouted but immediately regretted it.
His son looked devastated. He walked closer. “I’m sorry for shouting. I know what I said sounds cruel but the fates have already predetermined their death. I know seeing a child or infant die, the mothers grieving…it’s hard. It’s an unimaginable pain they are going through but you cannot bring them back simply for the sake of their grief. It’s blurring the lines between life and death and if they know you can bring them back, they might get reckless, they might stop caring about injury or illness because you can save them. That’s not the natural order of the world and you know it.”
“Even for Stillborns?” Asclepius asked, sounding so small, reminding Apollo of when he was still a child, at least the times he could be there.
“Even for stillborns.” Apollo said softly. It felt so cruel to say out loud but it’s the natural order of the universe.
Asclepius just nodded. “I apologize, I did not think they would miss a few infant souls.”
“And adult souls. And yes. Infants may not go through hades but every soul is missed when they are brought back; none are too small or unimportant to go unnoticed.”
“What about animals?” Asclepius asked curiously.
Apollo shook his head, blonde waves swishing with the movement. “None. All die at their time. Alright?”
Asclepius just nodded, looking sad. “Alright, I will follow what you say.”
Apollo sighed, relieved the talk was over. “Good, I don’t like having to lecture. But since I’m here, why don’t we talk, tell me what you’ve been up to, other than breaking the laws of nature.”
Weeks and months went by, the talk seemingly has worked. Hades and Thanatos were happy about that, no souls were popping away, and no papers disappearing.
The issue was taken care of, never to have to bother Zeus or Apollo about it again.
But soon he saw a few souls disappearing and it forced his hand to send another message to Zeus. Hermes looked at the letter with a frown. “Again?” Already knowing who it’s going to.
Hades just nodded. “The boy has not learned.”
Hermes just took the letters, all playful demeanor and energy gone, knowing the message won’t bring good news and even bring devastating consequences. He left swiftly.
The next day, Hades got a paper and was about to ask the name to conform the next soul when he saw the name.
Name: Asclepius
Age: 23
Marital status: single
Family: Apollo, father, Coronis, mother
Cause of death: lighting strike
He froze, seeing the name before properly looking up and seeing the soul of Apollo's mortal son in his hall of judgment. He’s honestly not sure how to process him, it’s such a unique and worrying situation. By reading over the paper he knew exactly what happened but it filled him with dread; what does this mean for Apollo? Has he been punished as well? Why did Zeus choose death over other punishments? Does Apollo even know?
“Uh Hades? Sir?” Hades looked at Asclepius. He spoke. “I apologize, I was not expecting you.”
“Thank Zeus for that,” He said curtly, arms crossed. Hades could see he was very much like his father, bratty attitude and all.
“Yes, I see. I want you to know I did not want this for you when I first reported the missing souls, I only wanted you to stop. Why didn’t you?”
Asclepius looked away from him, feeling a mixture of shame and pride. “I just couldn’t not do something. You have not heard a mother wail of grief or a child begging for their parent back.”
Hades sighed as he signed the paper. “That is not your judgment to make but I admire your need to help at any cost. Go through the right door to Elysium Fields."
Asclepius just nodded and walked through the door.
Hades could already feel the shift in energy among the deities, something big was going to happen, he just hoped Apollo and Zeus survive it but knowing Apollo's abilities and temperament, Zeus should be scared.
He was just about done for the day too when Apollo showed up. His energy bristled with anger and grief.
He tensed, seeing the sun gods rage. “Apollo-”
“Don’t you dare give me any tone, where is my son?” His voice controlled but Hades could see his vibrating energy, could feel it as one feels the sun's rays on a particularly hot day; oppressive and heavy.
“In Elysium fields.”
“Why did you even take his soul? Why could you not tell me first he was down here?”
Hades walked down from his desk, walking closer to Apolo. “Because I do my job, unlike your son.”
Apollo already had his bow pointed at the king of the underworld but had not let go of the arrow, the arrow glowing gold, ready to strike as flares of the sun shined around him in his rage.
“You didn’t have to take him! You could have called for me!” Hades saw the tears in the sun god's eyes, falling down his face, his anger covering the grief he feels but Hades knew the grief well, he knew how heavy it was, the void it left as if it was sucking in any joy you may see, leaving you hollow.
“I could have tried to fix this!”
“You did, he listened for a while but his heart is too good. You should feel proud of him for wanting to selflessly help others, even knowing there will be consequences. Now please, lower your weapon.”
Apollo lowered his bow, much of his anger present still, even as tears wet his face. “I’m sorry. I know this is not your fault, you are not the reason he’s dead. But who is? Did his paper say?”
Hades looked away. “His cause of death was getting struck by lightning.”
Suddenly all the passionate rage was back, his bow held in a grip that would have broken a mortal bow as his energy started flickering little sun flares around him, threatening to melt the metal that was around the hall of judgment.“That bastard.”
Thanatos didn’t make himself known, not while Hades was trying to calm the sun god. But he heard it all and Apollo left suddenly. He walked toward Hades. “Why did you tell him?”
Hades looked over. “I didn’t, I only stated his cause of death, it’s not my fault if he put the pieces together.”
Thanatos chuckled weakly. “You are correct. I suppose Zeus has had this coming. I took his soul and it was unexpected, to say the least. although the boy needed punishment, I do not agree death should have been the punishment.”
“Zeus could have easily taken his abilities away, this was too much. Perhaps now he may think before he acts.”
Zeus was on his throne, as usual, chatting with several other deities, Ares included, Aphrodite on his lap when Zeus was struck by one of Apollo's arrows, dropping him to the ground of his palace with force.
He cried out in pain, it dug into his chest, burning a hole inside him, the skin around it turning a deep red and starting to blister; a sunburn, but then he felt ill, weak.
No, sun poisoning.
He knows this is only because Apollo wanted to send a message; if he had wanted him dead, he would be dead.
Ares was already standing at attention, spear and shield ready as he saw Apollo on his chariot, his voice wasn’t booming or thunderous but it was heard all the same.
“How dare you kill my son! I gave him a talk, and he listened! You could not have asked me to deal with him again?!”
Zeus was in the middle of getting up, feeling queasy when Apollo shot another arrow but Ares deflected it, leaving a melted dent in his shield as he yelled back. “Leave him alone! He is no threat, you got him! What more do you want?”
Apollo glared down at them, his energy still flickering little sun flares around him. “I want him to fix this. I want him to apologize! He could have taken that ability away but he killed him instead! Like the lazy, bastard he is!” He shot another and Ares deflected that as well, leaving another melted dent.
Zeus grumbled as he got up, taking the arrow out with a pained grunt, the skin on his hand burning with the effort. “I apologize for nothing! Your son gave no heed to your talk, nothing would have stopped him! How much longer should he tempt the fates? How many people did he have to bring back before you stopped him?!”
Apollo stared down at him, an arrow pointed at Zeus' head, but Ares was his defense. He couldn’t bring himself to shoot and kill the lightning god, it would bring a war that could last hundreds of years. He would never apologize. He was too prideful for that. Then he had an idea.
He lowered his weapon. “You’re right father,” He said with sarcasm heavy in his voice. “But you took someone precious from me, seems fitting I do the same to you.” He then took the reigns of his chariot, whipping the straps and the swans took him off into the sky.
Zeus growled, using the remaining strength he had to throw the rest of his bolts at him in a rage. But Apollo dodged them and was gone. He turned, looking at the Olympians who had gathered either to help or watch. “ARTEMIS!” He shouted.
She was there in a second, having been in the middle of checking in on a few of her followers and patrons when it all went down. “Yes sir- what’s happened to you?” Seeing his red, blistered skin and shaking hands.
Zeus stared her down, face red with anger. “Your brother is about to do something reckless, go stop him and bring him back to me!”
She just gave a nod. “Yes sir.”
She left, grumbling and wondering what the hell her brother was up to.
He flew to the Cyclops's domain, where Zeus' bolts were forged, bolts that killed his son. He was out of sight easily, one eye meant less depth perception and more blind spots, and Apollo took great advantage of that, drawing some of his most powerful arrows, forged from the sun, he took a steady and sure aim, relishing the moment Zeus finds out it’ll be a long time until he can get his bolts made again, and let go.
It shot right into the Cyclops head, through its temple. It was such an intense heat it melted the creature's eyeball. The others saw and he shot at them, never missing his mark and all dying in the same fashion, eyeballs melted and heads bursting from the intense heat as they collasped.
“Brother stop!” He heard his sister, turning, he saw her in her own chariot. “Why are you doing this?”
Apollo was remarkably more calm now that his revenge had been taken. “Zeus killed Asclepius. He was bringing mortals back from the dead, I talked to him but he didn’t stop. Apparently, Zeus saw it fit to kill him instead of finding other options.”
“He is dead?” Artemis asked, in disbelief.
Apollo nodded, tears starting to roll down his cheeks as the anger he felt slowly left him, making him feel hollow and cold. “By Zeus’ hand. He had too good a heart, he kept bringing back loved ones who passed away, unable to hear the wails of mothers whose children died. He would bring back stillborns sister.” His voice cracked and Artemis got close enough to jump into his chariot, her own eyes filling with tears as she hugged him close.
He held her tightly, almost tight enough to bruise. Artemis held him, letting him grieve with no judgment and for all the time he may need. She let a few of her own tears fall silently. When he moved to right himself, his tears stopped, she wiped her own face with a heavy sigh. “I’ve been ordered to bring you back to Zeus.” She said, looking down at the dead bodies of the cyclops, heads burst from the intense heat of the arrows.
“I know.” He said quietly, he wasn’t sure what Zeus had in store for him but it wouldn’t be good, he knew that. He chose not to use any divination to find out, honestly didn’t have the mental strength to do so, he didn’t care what Zeus did, none of it would bring his son back to life.
Artemis did as she was ordered and brought him back. When they arrived. Apollo started to walk toward the lighting god but an invisible force, forced him to his knees but Artemis was in front of him quickly, an arrow pointed at Zeus and a protective anger on her face. “You will let him stand. Do not force him to kneel before you when you do not deserve it.”
Zeus was about to object to her but Ares and Athena both backed her up. And those two often never agreed on anything. They were flanked by Artemis, protecting Apollo from any more of Zeus Wrath.
He let up and allowed Apollo to stand.
The others moved as Apollo stood, still staring Zeus down.
Zeus glared but Apollo could still see the signs of the sun poisoning he had given him earlier; his skin was red and heated, his chest where he shot still blistered and peeling and he could see the weakness as his hands trembled. “You promised this wouldn’t happen again.” Even his voice was weak.
“I am not going to supervise his every waking second. I talked to him, I told him there would be consequences. If I had known the consequences would be his death I would have done more than a talk.”
“How could you not know? You have the power of divination, of prophecy, you could have easily seen what was going to come.”
“I don’t use that all the time, you know the amount of energy that takes just for a few minutes of it?”
Zeus shook his head but nearly stumbled before righting himself, glaring weakly at him. “You have been a thorn in my side since the day you were born, always having an answer for everything.”
Apollo just sneered at him. “That’s because I know everything before it happens or did you forget?” He stated, knowing it would only stoke Zeus ire more.
Zeus growled, stepping closer to the sun god, his son. “I have had just about enough of you! For your impulsive attitude and inability to control your son-“
“That’s rich coming from you!”
“One year, on earth, as a feeble, mortal, human!”
Apollo blinked, nearly gasping. Even the deities behind him were in shock, his sister the most concerned as she went to him, her hands on his shoulders, a small attempt to keep him here. “You can’t be serious, what of my followers, my patrons?!”
“Too bad! They will see you in one year!”
And with a snap of his fingers, Apollo was gone and Artemis was left staring at the spot he once stood.
The Gray Pencil
Her quivering fingers extend themselves limply toward the gray pencil. Flashes of quaking memories flood her brain. She inhales and shuts her eyes. She can do this. The soul weighing down her stomach and pinning it to inaction cries out, "I do not want to. I do not care." She exhales slowly. She does care. She only needs to try. Her eyes open with aching resolve. One more inch… Her fingers feebly caress the gray pencil as the touch of the cold wood scathes her skin. "I hate you," her stomach mumbles. She takes another painful breath. Now to write…
Potholder: A Love Story
Once upon Ye Olde English heath, as the door to her cottage swung open, Hildegard smelled burning. Her husband’s boot had crossed the threshold, he would expect dinner, and he would not want it to be burned.
Hildegard rushed to the hearth. She grabbed the dangling pot of stew and instantly, agonizingly, the metal seared her palms.
“Zounds!” she cried.
“Woman!” her husband remonstrated.
“Zounds, it hurts!”
“Hold thy foul tongue!” her husband roared. “Thou wilt not blaspheme in my house!” (For zounds, dear reader, derived from God’s wounds, a reference to the crucifixion of Christ, and to employ the torture of one’s Lord and Savior as an epithet was as shocking to a pious old Englishman as the lyrics of NWA would prove to his descendants' erstwhile colonists 400 years after.)
“But it hurts!” Hildegard cried. “Thy stew burneth, and the metal hath proved too hot for my tender hands!”
“Stow thy pitiful excuses!” her husband retorted. “Find thyself a godlier path, or never again look me in the face!”
Hildegard departed. She wept even after she treated her second degree burns at the home of a crone who practiced homeopathic medicine, for Hildegard loved her husband, for some reason, or at least loved having a roof over her head to escape the goddamned English rain. To keep her husband roof husband, she needed aid, so Hildegard set out to a person who could set her on a godly path.
“Woman, why dost thou weep?” the Archbishop of Canterbury asked.
“Forgive me bishop,” Hildegard answered. “I hath displeased my husband.”
“How?”
“With an ill word.”
“What ill word did thee speakest?”
Hildegard hesitated. “I said, Zounds, your bishopness.”
“Jesus,” said the Archbishop of Canterbury, “that’s fucking awful word. Why wouldst thou say such a thing?”
“I burned my hands, your bishopness. On a pot. Heaven help me, if I don’t find a safer way to hold a pot, I might blaspheme again, and my husband will disown me. Is there any hope for such a disgraced wench as me?”
“Let us pray.”
And Hildegard and the Archbishop knelt and prayed, and, i dunno, burned frankincense or something, and lo, the Holy Ghost sent them down a dove, which carried in its beak a thickly woven fabric, and they gave thanks to the Lord.
“Almighty God,” asked the Archbishop of Canterbury, “what wouldst You, in Your Infinite Wisdom, have us call this thickly woven fabric with which to hold pots?”
The candles flared, the stones of the cathedral shook, the Archbishop wet himself, and a voice from the heavens boomed, “A potholder.”
And so Hildegard carried the potholder home, and gave knowledge of it unto other women, and prepared many delicious stews without burning her hands, which meant she never again said the unforgiveable zounds, which meant her husband loved her, five times a week whether she were in the mood or not, and she bore many children and had a roof over her head to protect her from the goddamned English rain, and they all lived happilyish ever after until the plague destroyed their bodies and minds.
The End.