Page 1 of Hephaestus
Chapter 1
Myfeetskiddedinthe sand, resisting the tug of my mother, Hera, as she yanked me by the elbow, dragging my defiant frame along the beach of the island of Lemnos. The more of a fight I put up against her, the more strength and force she used to haul me forward.
“I don’t want to go!” I yelled at her, for what was the thousandth time.
Hera glanced back at me, gritting her teeth to show how irate she was at my resistance. “You don’t have a choice, Hephaestus! Kidalionas has generously offered to take care of your ugly and pathetic self until you hopefully grow up to look a little more presentable, and less hideous.”
“I’m not hideous!” I scoffed back at her with traces of spit flinging from my mouth, hitting her luxurious garbs.
“Yes, you are,” she corrected. “And I cannot have you running amok on Mount Olympus looking the way you do. Do you have any idea how humiliating that would be for me? I can’t bear the thought of other gods and goddesses thinking that someone as gorgeous and beautiful as me bore this monstrous of a creation.”
A curse. A disgrace. A disgusting god with a lame leg.
I was so used to the horrible names and titles Hera and Zeus threw my way from the very moment I was born that they had little to no effect on me. Her words meant nothing. They went in one ear and right out of the other. I had to build up a wall. It was the only way to force myself to not care about their disdain for me. At first, the tears drenched my bed every night I went to sleep when I used to let their virulent comments permeate me. But over time, the cataclysm ceased, and I would never cry myself to sleep for the rest of my existence. I supposed that was the one gift Hera did give me during my childhood—the ability to build strength in my stoicism and ignore the enmity of individuals that would otherwise tear me down.
I’d never refer to her asmy mother, because what mother could be so cruel to her own child? She was never that way with any of her other children. She put Ares on a pedestal and consistently boasted of his accomplishments. She regularly complimented Hebe on her beauty and youthfulness. But when it came to me, I received no such praise. How could someone only love some of her children and not all of them? That was no mother at all. Mothers should love each and every one of their offspring. Therefore, I presumed it logical to never consider her as a mother to me. She was merely a female vessel that brought me into this world, this existence with no emotional attachment whatsoever.
So, why was I even born to begin with? It was strictly a product of Hera’s rage and jealousy over Zeus. He had borne a smart, talented, and formidable daughter named Athena through what would be known asparthenogenesis, or rather, a birth without sexual intercourse. Hera was bitter about Zeus’ betrayal in not bedding her to create a child together and thus she decided to have a child of her own, without the likes of her husband. And thus, I came into the world shortly after Athena had arrived. She was Zeus’s child alone, while I was Hera’s. Although the moment Hera laid eyes on me, she held contempt for the way I appeared. One of my legs was shorter and skinnier than the other. Also, I was well aware that my face was not as handsome as most other gods, and even mortals, for that matter. And if I wasn’t aware of it from the very beginning, I soon would be, for Hera declared it every chance she could.
Around our palace, I did my best to avoid her altogether, to evade her rancor. I tried to keep my mind preoccupied, but as it turned out, I was no good at reading. My artistic talents were abysmal and, needless to say, I was unable to train in combat because of my deformed leg. The only thing I was remotely interested in was building. I built small statues and carved tiny buildings out of mold and clay, creating a small-scale town in my room.
But once Hera saw the city I had created, she instantly stomped all over it, claiming that it was awful and should never be seen. It would only be an embarrassment if anyone were to witness it. “Something this atrocious needs to either remain hidden or be completely destroyed,” she told me.
“I spent days working on it though…” I softly uttered to her.
“Well, I can’t have it around here. Do you even know the things other gods and goddesses would say if they saw the likes of it in our palace? Just imagine the ridicule.”
And the moment she said those words, her eyes lit up, like she had realized an important thought or as if a stellar idea had just popped into her head.
She then lunged at me, gripping me hard by the elbow. Her nails dug so deep into my skin that I was bleeding.
“What are you doing!?” I screeched. “Where are you taking me?”
“As far away from here as possible, Hephaestus. I can’t have anyone lay eyes on you in this…state.”
Hera then escorted me out of the palace and off Mount Olympus, carrying me all the way to the island of Lemnos, which was where we were now. Pulling me along, we trekked more inland from the beach and towards the forests on the island.
I continued to seethe and throw more hateful remarks her way, while she was steadfast in reminding me how much she loathed and despised my very existence as a deplorable child of hers.
Eventually, we made it to an enormous cave, hidden among the vastness of the tall and luscious trees in the woods. As we stepped foot into the entrance of the dwelling, a mortal man appeared.
His tunic was covered with soot, dirt, and other sorts of debris. Even his skin was smudged with black dust and grime. However, his hair remained pure white and untouched, with a matching long beard. But it was the shade of his eyes that drew me in. They were orange, as bright as Apollo’s sun. It was as if the embers in his eyes were burning aglow, giving off the ash that stained his entire body.
“Is this the boy?” the man questioned, nodding his head down in my direction.
“Yes,” Hera replied, flinging me forward as she finally released her grip on me, causing me to stumble and fall to the dirty cave floor, on my knees. “You couldn’t tell from his grisly appearance and the crippling walk?” she added in a tone of mockery.
The man’s stern facial expression remained unchanged by her comment. He chose to ignore her biting remark. “And he will reside here for the next ten years?”
“That is correct,” Hera stated. “Hopefully by then, his features will change, and he will become much more handsome as he grows into age as a god. Maybe by then he might actually be tolerable to look at.”
“Is it okay if I teach him…” the man began to say, but Hera raised her hand to dismiss him from speaking any further.
She interceded. “Teach him whatever you want. Now, I’ve wasted enough time dragging the pathetic boy here. I will be off. And remember, do not send him off to return to Mount Olympus for at least ten years. I do not want to see him any sooner.”
And with that, Hera turned and took off, not bothering to even acknowledge me, nor even say her goodbyes. It was as if she wanted nothing to do with me, like I didn’t exist in her world. And that would ring true for a while, because for the next ten years, I would no longer be in her presence. Her mind would not have to be consumed with thoughts of me, her burden. But there was no doubt that it would be filled with other chagrin because that was the nature of Hera. She was incapable of finding displeasure in just one thing. The amount of indignation she held for the world was stacked so high it could even tower over Mount Olympus.
As upset as I was by being dropped off in this cave with this stranger, I couldn’t help but look at the bright side of the situation. These next ten years could potentially be peaceful and the most rewarding years of my existence as a god, for I would no longer have to listen to the venom that poured out of Hera’s awful mouth.
