Dear Diary,
This shall be my last entry. No longer shall I write to you in words that stretch across the boundary of time and mortal life, what remains to me shall go unrecorded and unknown, for it will matter little anymore.
For hundreds of years, the Greeks worshipped us and we looked after them, the gods on Olympus making sure that life ran right, doing more than people sometimes give us credit for. But now, now, they have given up the faith and we have no energy left to do anything. Power comes from belief, conviction- they believed that we could help them, and this meant that we could. Burt now it is lost, the ages fall and we mean little to any of them anymore. Our names will be forgotten, or our existence- there will be stories told, but none shall ever believe in the true existence of Hermes the giant-killer, of Athene of the flashing eyes, of earthshaking Poseidon- those days are gone.
As immortals, I am not sure whether we can die- whether our bodies will live on bereft of strength or power, simply shells that live in agony and nothingness, or be allowed to crumble and return to whence we came. The souls of those in Hades roam free and Hades and dread Persephone lie unable to contain them- will we be allowed to live out our deaths there? None of us know.
For myself, I shall not suffer as we are now, I shall not live out eternity in misery. I shall sleep now, a long sleep that may last until the world is destroyed and even immortals must die. Or maybe, maybe, I shall awaken in the future when the power of belief is back, when I shall rise again and Pallas Athene, bright-eyed Athene, Athene of the flashing eyes, may rise to her glory again. Maybe the day shall never come. I pray it shall.
Whatever happens, whatever my future may hold, I implore you of only one thing while I sleep in my eternal rest. Do not forget my name, or that of my sisters and brothers, or what we did. Tell the stories that we helped to forge, listen to the songs, marvel at the wonders of the world that we knew...and never let the fire of our memory burn out.
~~~~~~~~
This fic could have gone on forever, so I am trying to let it out at a decent length and with some respectability. If anyone asks I might rewrite some myths as separate fics, I doubt anyone will want but never mind. Sorry it wasn't funny towards the end, there isn't much to work with comedy style with much death, it sucks. I hope this last chapter was ok, I liked the idea of going out seriously for a change- the idea if slightly nicked from Discworld, the power of belief, and a bit from the Arthurian myths of resurrected heroes and kings when the time is right. Thanks for the people who have read and reviewed this, I hoped you enjoyed it, it's been fun.
This shall be my last entry. No longer shall I write to you in words that stretch across the boundary of time and mortal life, what remains to me shall go unrecorded and unknown, for it will matter little anymore.
For hundreds of years, the Greeks worshipped us and we looked after them, the gods on Olympus making sure that life ran right, doing more than people sometimes give us credit for. But now, now, they have given up the faith and we have no energy left to do anything. Power comes from belief, conviction- they believed that we could help them, and this meant that we could. Burt now it is lost, the ages fall and we mean little to any of them anymore. Our names will be forgotten, or our existence- there will be stories told, but none shall ever believe in the true existence of Hermes the giant-killer, of Athene of the flashing eyes, of earthshaking Poseidon- those days are gone.
As immortals, I am not sure whether we can die- whether our bodies will live on bereft of strength or power, simply shells that live in agony and nothingness, or be allowed to crumble and return to whence we came. The souls of those in Hades roam free and Hades and dread Persephone lie unable to contain them- will we be allowed to live out our deaths there? None of us know.
For myself, I shall not suffer as we are now, I shall not live out eternity in misery. I shall sleep now, a long sleep that may last until the world is destroyed and even immortals must die. Or maybe, maybe, I shall awaken in the future when the power of belief is back, when I shall rise again and Pallas Athene, bright-eyed Athene, Athene of the flashing eyes, may rise to her glory again. Maybe the day shall never come. I pray it shall.
Whatever happens, whatever my future may hold, I implore you of only one thing while I sleep in my eternal rest. Do not forget my name, or that of my sisters and brothers, or what we did. Tell the stories that we helped to forge, listen to the songs, marvel at the wonders of the world that we knew...and never let the fire of our memory burn out.
~~~~~~~~
This fic could have gone on forever, so I am trying to let it out at a decent length and with some respectability. If anyone asks I might rewrite some myths as separate fics, I doubt anyone will want but never mind. Sorry it wasn't funny towards the end, there isn't much to work with comedy style with much death, it sucks. I hope this last chapter was ok, I liked the idea of going out seriously for a change- the idea if slightly nicked from Discworld, the power of belief, and a bit from the Arthurian myths of resurrected heroes and kings when the time is right. Thanks for the people who have read and reviewed this, I hoped you enjoyed it, it's been fun.