Kintsugi

by The White Wulf

The practice of repairing broken pottery with precious metals. it signified the importance of an item's history and the beauty of imperfections. In one reality, the God Hephaestus experiences such a concept. The melding of Heroic Spirit and Divine Entity creating an impossible miracle. A new God walks the earth...for good or ill. (Will go from Ancient Greece to modern day).

2. Chapter 2

WARNING: Grammer has been checked but not thoroughly looked through. Grammar Nazis beware.

Author's Note: Hello one and all! I just started playing Hades 2 and it launched me into writing this second chapter WAY ahead of schedule. I will be going back to Fate/Clover now.

Kintsugi Chapter 2:

The sounds of the forests seemed so much more visceral here in the open. Within the sheltered realm that Hera and Zeus forged, everything was picturesque. Perfect...yet so fake. He had travelled like a man until nightfall, still shrouded in the forests and shrubbery when he made camp. Hephaestus inspected the flesh and meat of the great Python, intent on discovering what power lied within.

He was…unimpressed by Python. Why was a creature of such renown in the future so…weak? He cooked the snake meat, using the knowledge that EMIYa had accumulated and practiced over the countless renditions of Chaldea. As a divine existence, his use of EMIYA's skills were naturally of a higher quality, though he never truly knew just how much till this moment. Watching the meat sizzle on the flames he conjured made him wonder just how much he could learn from the creature's flesh. He decided to analyze the flesh using structural analysis, and lo to his surprise did he find that the spell was as flawless as if he was analyzing a sword. Well…sort of.

The history of the creature was not entirely transparent. It was murky and unclear, but there was enough clear fragments to learn more about the creature overall. He had assumed that the Python he had faced was the original, the one that Apollo would eventually slay in his earliest myth. This was not the case, or at least was unlikely. For there was more than one Python. There was a parent, siblings, and various other hazy creatures that he wasn't too sure of. The creature before him, slain by his hand, was not a fully grown divine beast, but rather a weak almost newborn. He had known for quite some time that Python's goal was devouring pieces of Leto's sheared off divinity, a byproduct of her pregnancy. He had, at first, assumed this to be a ploy of some sort, a method of weakening a god unique to this line of monster, using the divine fragments to slowly drain the powers of the prey in question. In a way it was. Python was weak not because the creature itself was weak, but rather because the creature had never eaten its full before. Python, by its very nature, was a sponge for divine energy. Whatever being it targeted, it would devour and increase in power in accordance with the threat before it. It was a perfect predator and one that would never grow hungry, as Gods never died.

He turned the flesh over, cooking the other side and lathering a slew of herbs he collected. It wasn't perfect, but that was alright.

In one of the more common variants of Apollo's myth, Leto was trapped by the Python, requiring her son to fight in her stead to free her. While there were a number of different retellings, a good number portrayed Apollo fighting the creature alone. Considering Leto was a Titan, the idea that a divine beast had such a complete hold on her was highly unlikely. But considering Python's abilities and feeding habits…it made sense why Leto of all Goddesses needed help. Hephaestus also learned an important factor he didn't rightly consider. Years ago, he warded off the beast, letting it run away after it had bitten him on the ankle. The wound healed quickly, but the creature eluded his divine senses. It was that moment that led to Hephaestus realizing the degradation of his senses overall. He had assumed the creature went after Leto. Due to his word, he never left to investigate. It never did, instead attempting to absorb the energy that it had taken from him instead. The energy that Hephaestus produced was divine enough for Python to absorb…it just wasn't digestible. When he had fended off the creature years ago, its flesh was resilient, more than strong enough to withstand the countless barrage of Hephaestus weapons, both mystical and mundane. At the time, divine constructs were simply not possible, Hephaestus lacking the insight to truly recreate them. His own divinity made creating divine constructs easy…but he found them disgustingly hollow. They were just stale fragments, brought to life to simply serve a purpose. He was better than that. Unlike EMIYA, who had no pride in his creations, Hephaestus was filled with it. He would not tolerate a product that wasn't up to his exact standards. The only exception was a requested product. Only then would he acquit to a customer's request. He was confident he would win as well. That was the problem with the standard divine constructs. They were less weapons of power and more symbols of authority, conduits of their strength. To EMIYA, they were trump cards of great power, but in this realm…such a thing didn't exist.

What would happen to the current hierarchy if divine weapons could empower a God beyond their typical might? That was a question for the future, one that Hephaestus would avoid as best he could. Now, in his current state, he knew exactly how to craft divine constructs the way he wanted them and could even recreate the divine constructs EMIYA had seen but "deleted" from his memory. EMIYA's mind would crumble under the weight of any divine construct he created bar a few exceptions. Far as the God of fire could tell, EMIYA's inner world could contain the "blueprint" of the divine constructs but could not actualize them. The process of translating them to his inner world would almost kill him in most cases, but the intervention of ALAYA was the most likely reason this didn't happen.

Hephaestus, as a mostly divine entity, did not harbor such a weakness. So, it was as he summoned the sword that slew the Orochi so soon, both as a means to test the blade itself and under the assumption that the creature would have been stronger. The blade, powerful as it was, was merely a blade. It would have taken several precise strikes to kill the Orochi with it. That or enacting the blade as a Noble Phantasm would suffice as well. In short, the Python of myth should not have been felled in one blow. From what he could gather, his own divine energy was responsible for the degradation of the creature's strength, the mortal essence within him poisoning the beast. It was one thing to eat flesh for sustenance, it was another to devour the essence of another being to gain greater strength. It was why monster typically avoided attacking humans when they grew strong enough.

In a way, it made Hephaestus jealous of the beast. It knew exactly what it wanted to be, what purpose it had…but he did not. EMIYA's experiences shed some insights but nothing that Hephaestus was confident enough to adhere by. He was an anomaly, that much was true. He sighed, wondering what he was meant to be. He was an accident, through and through. His very existence a strange miracle. Did he have a purpose? Did…did he want one? EMIYA existed with a purpose for countless eons as a hunter for humanity. It was horrible, disgusting, and frankly overwhelming even for Hephaestus. The lack of agency, the complete and utter desecration of one's ideals. Was it strange that, for all that horror, for all that suffering, that…he missed the direction? He had lived every moment that EMIYA did, though it felt like it was ages ago. In those memories, swimming away amongst his angst, was the surety of knowing precisely why he existed…that he was needed. The God rubbed his calloused hands, loosing himself in the feeling of his flesh. He was real. He was here. That should have been enough, considering all that he experienced as EMIYA…yet it wasn't.

Intellectually he knew that life was ultimately pointless, and that life was lived irrespective of that truth. There was beauty in the struggle, that there was beauty in making your life entirely what you wanted it to be. The freedom to do that was humanity's greatest strength. Sure, there were laws. Social, moral, and physical constrictions existed as well. Yet ultimately everything was permitted. Nothing could truly stop someone from just doing whatever they wanted. They could be interrupted, killed, and even captured to prevent their actions…but nothing stopped man from actualizing that goal, of trying to bring their goals to reality. It was a concept that brought a content smile to Hephaestus' face. Humanity in that way was so tangible, so beautiful. Before EMIYA, he never connected with humans…he felt beyond them. In truth he was, regardless of how connected he felt, there was no denying that he was a greater power. But even so, humans were dear to him. Saving people…it was like that boy Shirou said so long ago.

It wasn't wrong to help people.

It wasn't wrong to be kind.

Hindsight as they say was absolute. What EMIYA failed to comprehend was that it was not his ideals that betrayed him. If anything, it was the opposite Hephaestus found. EMIYA never truly embodied his ideals, as such they could not have betrayed him. In fact, he never lived by his ideals either. The truth was a far more depressive state than that. EMIYA was a victim of the ideals that were introduced to him by his father, consumed by it with open arms. Anything that could fill the void within his own shattered heart was grasped with an avarice beyond human comprehension. He drowned within it to the point he was warped beyond human common sense. He was doomed from the start. Even as a Heroic Spirit EMIYA failed to understand this, such was his curse.

"Am I so different?" murmured Hephaestus, eating his food.

There were parts of him that shied away from the truth, that detested the idea of it, but he shared in EMIYA's desperation. Desperate for someone, anyone, to tell him why he was born the way he was. He was not a mortal, at least not entirely. Before his bonding with EMIYA, before his shift of perspective, he was entirely a divine entity. They were not simply born like humans were. When a God was born, they had a purpose, a reason, for existing. Even if it was something as simple as forging iron all day like those weirdos, they at least were assured of why they existed. Yet…here he was, with domains that were technically fulfilled by others. Athena was going to be born one day, if she wasn't already. After all, Hephaestus was not always a staple in Athena's myths. Some humans described that she simply burst from Zeus' head with a spear in hand…somehow.

She was a craftsman Goddess, one more versed in clothing and such, but that was merely a step behind. Nothing could stop her from expanding the idea of "crafting" to include metal working. He was a "blacksmith" but that didn't stop Hephaestus from creating cloth and other such products at the divine level. He was not a jeweler, but he crafted the girdle of Aphrodite in the other world. He was a God of fire, but both Prometheus and Hestia shouldered domains similar enough. The God of Volcanos? Perhaps, but one could argue that Typhon was divine enough to embody that domain as well, monstrous as it was.

Nothing he owned was truly unique. So…why was he here? Because if he was just an accident…than that made everything around him meaningless.

"What am I doing," smirked Hephaestus, a somewhat sad smile on his face, "thinking of these things does little for me."

He sighed as he looked up at the stars. At the end of the day, however uncertain or anxious he may have been, whatever uncertainty plagued him, he was free. That, no matter what else, was all that mattered. He simply walked to this location, and he would keep walking and exploring until someone stopped him. He wasn't too concerned about not crafting things, after all, his reality marble was akin to a portable forge. Every time he slept, he returned to that world. One more noble phantasm, one more school of learning under his belt. He closed his eyes, ready for another day…or at least pretended to. His nose twitched as he smelled something that was akin to…cows? He opened his eyes, glowing a savage ethereal gold. In the distance his enhanced eyesight saw a village, one with a large bonfire. A celebration perhaps?

Hephaestus' eyes burned a bit, but he simply closed them. To see beyond clear mortal sight strained his eyes immensely, as such concepts as spirits were invisible unless he decided to invoke his greater sight manually. His hearing, sense of smell, and even his sense of touch has all deteriorated, requiring direct intervention. There was no mistaking that he eclipsed EMIYA in every parameter, but his senses were no longer as sharp as they once were when he was a pure God. Funny how that worked.

A small price to pay in his opinion, considering how he was previously. It was annoying but that was it. He devoured the last of the snake, letting the power within diffused into his stomach. That was another matter entirely that irked him. Before he merged with EMIYA, the concept of food was foreign to the God. It was something to enjoy as a taste but was not a necessity in any form. Ambrosia and Nectar were forms of food as a God but was not the result of their immortality as mortals assumed.

The common myths of that nature were not completely inaccurate though. From what Hephaestus could gather, the use of Ambrosia was vital in the creation of a God from a mortal template. Sadly, the average mortal would combust from consuming even a small amount of the heavenly substance, their souls copied as a template for a new God. A divine clone, if you would. The subsequent affair would result in the original human being devoured by the new divine entity. In theory, this resulted in the God being identical to the human in every way. One could argue that nothing changed in the end, just the method that wasn't pretty. He himself believed that the resulting God was a new person, the old human soul the building blocks for a new divine core.

Hephaestus would know. After all, that was the same process his own existence tried to pull with EMIYA, resulting in the gestalt he had become. Many were the weaknesses that Hephaestus inherited. Yet, it was not a weakness of the flesh that ailed him now, but rather of the mind. He craved interaction. Of communicating with people. Before, he wanted admiration and lust, attention for the sake of validating that he was just as important as everyone else and to bask in that river of self-importance through physical confirmation. Now? Now he just wanted to talk to people that were not influenced by the counter force, to have discussions with people whose faces he hadn't seen repeatedly for countless millennia…no. Hephaestus shook his head, knowing the truth was far far weaker. Far baser than a God would normally admit.

He wanted to be loved. He didn't crave it like before, he could live without it…but that didn't mean he wanted to. He…he wanted a family. The one thing that he had been deprived of as EMIYA, the concept that he never had even in this life…that was what he truly wanted. Hera was…different here. So were the other Gods. There existed the possibility that a real family was possible in this life. He just had to search for it. To grab it fiercely with his own hands! But as desperate as he was for that connection, Olympus was simply not an option. Not now. His freedom was more important than a need for familial and sexual love. The feel of the air, the freedom of going wherever he wanted? That was a far more addictive and pleasurable feeling for the Hephaestus that was now. His cybernetic legs allowed him the freedom of movement that he had been denied previously. He could give less of a shit if he was the slowest God there ever was…he could go places! Screw feeling sorry for himself, Hephaestus decided he wanted to see what this festival was all about. Considering the current era, there was a real possibility that this village was a cult or filled with bandits and crazy people. He was powerful enough that the risk was negligible. He would indulge his curiosity.

Well…that and the fact that the priestess he met a few years ago was at the forefront of whatever ritual was taking place certainly didn't hurt his observations. A goat was placed upon an altar of stone, a sacrifice. As the blade fell deep within the goat, Hephaestus felt the miniscule amount of divine energy produced through the priestess' actions. It flowed, finding its way back to Leto. Most gods would "taste" the sacrifice or at least admit to something like a pleasant smell from burnt offerings. It did nothing for them really. It gave the illusion of energy, much like caffeine did, and was something that Gods and Goddesses enjoyed from their followers. The rest of the goat was thrown to the bonfire eventually and Hephaestus had just arrived through the village perimeter, his newfound mobility a great boon for the God. The village was well built, with numerous men and even women with weapons patrolling the village grounds. Probably on the lookout for bandits. Hephaestus felt a flash of orange in the corner of his eye and had a small smile. In the distance, far beyond human sight, was Ifrit. The Pheonix ruffled their wings at him, letting him know that he was aware of Hephaestus' sight. He took in the village walls and…was pleasantly surprised at their construction. The material was shoddy, and the overall craftsmanship could be better, but the foundations and solid frames were to be commended, especially currently.

It wasn't uncommon for village homes to collapse from disrepair or shoddy workmanship in this era. Someone with talent created these homes…though they lacked knowledge to further improve their skill, their talent was obvious. Homes were not something that could just be built time and time again. Perhaps he should make a game of it and find this craftsman? He turned his head and passed by another home, only to bump into another person. For all his heighten senses, they were next to worthless when he was absorbed in his thoughts like this. He looked down at the woman that bumped into his chest. She had long brown hair and she stared at him like she…

Wait.

"Agnes?" whispered Hephaestus.

The girl's face went bright red, her body covered in a rough but well-made chiton. She had developed into a rather pretty girl, shapely too. In fact, she was in great shape, considering that she was pregnant. It wasn't too noticeable, but the bump was there. She had been seven when they had met and yet was now close to adulthood at what he assumed was 17. But he had only been gone for 4 years? How had she aged for a decade? Unless she was a huge eleven-year-old, in which the father of her baby would die a horrifying death, there was simply one explanation. He was inside Leto's dimension for far longer than he thought.

"He…Hephaestus," she whispered his name with a slight wariness. Good. The gods were not always kind to mortals, at least she had learned her lesson. Or…at least he thought she did. As he rose up, towering over her completely even now, she rushed and slammed him into as much a hug as she was willing to allow, careful of the child growing in her stomach.

"I can't believe it is you!"

Her eyes sparkled with life as she stepped away from him. She bowed slightly.

"Please, I would love to host you for a time with my family."

He went to reject that kind offer, but when she looked up…it struck at every weak part of him. Such a pure expression….honestly there was no way he could simply say no. That hollow part of him that craved some form of normalcy was soothed this day…all because he took a walk from the woods and simply went where he wished. He followed her through the village, ignoring the various stares. He arrived at a rather large home. Not obscenely so, but one that was wider and more fortified than the others. She opened the door and immediately a small child rushed to her legs, making her laugh.

"Chloe!"

She reached down, grabbing the young girl. She cooed at her, and Hephaestus learned quickly that the child was her niece. They entered the home and he saw that she was living amongst her brother's family with her own partner and mother. They were all around a table, with various offerings. There were many rooms in this small house, each with an assortment of things that were probably normal for human families in ancient Greece It was the offerings that confused him the most. The small effigy of Leto made sense, as this island was filled with followers of the Titaness. Yet, it was the second effigy that made no sense. The legs were black, purposely charred, yet the upper body was pristine wood, shaped with a delicate hand and honed over and over. The grooves showed a steady and practiced hand, representing that this was far from the crafter's first attempt. Who was this? The mother dropped the plate she was holding, a practice he realized they must have learned from him. He had presented to them food on rudimentary plates, a practice that only some Greeks had done at the time. Now, it seemed to have spread to this village, or at least this family. They all sat around an unevenly rectangular table; the chairs misshapen but functional. To be fair, the craftsmanship of the entire ensemble was beyond incredible, considering the lack of modern tools and knowledge, he turned to Agnes, and she merely gave him a wide smile.

"Welcome to our home Hepheas-GRK!"

She was silenced by a glare from her mother. The woman that Hephaestus had met those years ago was nowhere to be seen. She was no longer haggard, brought low by stress with skin that was dried and broken. A body shuddering under the burden of her life. Instead, her skin was soft and untested, her body full and wide. Her eyes were brown, and her hair had some silvery strands through it. He smiled a bit, eyeing her fuller figure. She was an attractive older woman, one who had seemed to find her peace. She was no longer the battered woman, but instead the strong matriarch that stood before him. It was nice to see. She took the small Chloe from Agnes and bowed to him deeply. Almost too deeply. Dear god her chest was…bountiful. For a moment a surge of lust echoed through him…one that was promptly obliterated by the steel resolve within. He would not emulate the behaviors of this time. A woman this beautiful was without a man for a reason, one that he would respect. It wasn't because he was nervous…no…he was a courageous man…he was just respecting her. That was the reason…right.

The sly look he eyed from Agnes was not helping matters.

"Welcome lord, I…I can't believe you have graced us with your presence…you've changed."

She smiled as she looked at his confused expression. She entered his personal space easily enough and struggled for a moment…but relented in parsing her hands through his hair. She stared into his eyes, indulging in the curiosity of being able to look at a God without reservation. Any other divine being would smite her…so Hephaestus appreciated the trust she had for him this moment. She cleared her throat, having been lost in his eyes for far longer than she wanted to. The pools of shimmering gold echoed with a life she saw from no one else. He was built like a damn house and even covered; his musculature was visible. The clothes he wore were impressive enough that she was confident she knew exactly how to strike up a conversation. She was honestly interested in the strange grey cloak he now wore.

"I didn't get a chance to properly thank you all those years ago, please have some food. We have plenty during Leto's festival."

She gestured to her family, and he smiled over at the boy now turned man, his wife staring at his eyes and hair with unhidden awe. Red hair like his own was impossible for humans. The closest approximation was…well ginger hair much like the young Chloe had. His own hair was such a vibrant crimson that any human being would balk at the impossible sight. He let his hood fall as he smiled at everyone.

"I appreciate your hospitality. I admit, I did not purposely come here for you or your family. All the same I am happy to see that you are well."

The smile spread across her face, as the Matriarch introduced herself.

"My name is Calliope, and you are welcomed in our home."

The son rose to stand and offer him his seat, but Hephaestus merely waved his hand. A shimmer of a dark reddish hue and a perfect replica of the chair was pulled out. It was reinforced to support his greater weight. The small child clapped her hands at his magic, making Hephaestus smile more.

Was this the power of a child? Of seeing something so innocent enraptured by your skills and presence? He could understand the reason that humans, regardless of blood relation, would defend children so fiercely. They were precious and adorable. Chloe's cheeks puffed up as she demanded another show but was reprimanded by Calliope. A large portion of Hephaestus wanted to do as the child asked, but he thought better of it. He didn't want to disrespect the authority of the woman who welcomed him in her home. The look of desire she had was obvious to all…except the God himself. EMIYA, for all his inhuman emotions, was experienced enough to tell when a woman was interested. Hephaestus was to…but was not confident enough to believe that such interest could exist. It took time to shuffle but eventually they all sat down. Hephaestus felt the world go quiet and his heart go cold. As they rushed to settle in with his presence, he could feel the love and comfort these people had with each other. The small gestures, the comfort, and the slight undercurrent of emotion…this was what he wanted. A family. A sanctuary. But…this only served as a reminder of how things should have been…a reminder of what he never had…both in this life and his previous one. At least as EMIYA, he never actually felt it so acutely. He was not abandoned, he merely survived. Perhaps that was what made it sting more? Still, his smile grew as he was handed some food and learned more about the people he met those years ago. This…was good. It sparked hope. Agnes brought out of the food, welcoming her own partner into the home, a large stout man with a massive beard. What was once a quiet affair was quick to evolve into a loud discussion. For a brief moment…Hephaestus felt a sense of belonging.

-Elsewhere, on Mount Olympus-

Hours ago, the gods welcomed Artemis and Apollo to the home of the Greek Gods. What a glorious celebration it was gearing up to be. Immediately, Artemis and Apollo both proved their worth as greater gods and were welcomed to the thrones of Olympus, taking their places next to their father. As Leto walked the halls of Olympus, she sneered at the sight of the numerous minor gods lamenting their station. Oh how they raged at their impotence, declaring things such as fairness and equality in their shadowy corners. They called her whore, named her betrayer, and yet did they say such things amid Zeus' awareness? No, they cowardly struck only when retribution was not possible and even than with nothing but barbs and baseless words. As she walked the halls of Olympus, Leto began to reminisce. The sight of all these minor Gods reminding her of a time when Zeus attempted to disobey the warnings of the Fates. He was warned, that only through twelve gods of greater power, through twelve Olympians, would his rule be final and lasting. Zeus had, ironically, no desire to be king. He desired authority and power, that much was true, but the God himself was as fitful as the winds and sky he embodied. To tie him down to any sort of responsibility was asinine. His brothers were similar in that regard, but more agreeable to their stations. Zeus knew himself completely and utterly, another factor of why Leto felt so deeply for the rebellious son of Kronos. Other Gods would shy away from the more…unsightly aspects of their nature. Zeus did not. He knew what he was, who he was, and lived as fully and deeply as he pleased. He took what he wanted, saved what he wanted, and destroyed what he wanted.

By the primordial divines he was…mesmerizing to Leto. She remembered when he created a council, a body in which every God and every spirit had a vote to decide the fate of their pantheon. It was a beautiful display, though more for his own selfish desires than out of any empathy in truth. Everything these minor gods wanted, every bit of authority they desired was delivered to them. There were no minor or major Gods, for a moment they were all simply Gods who each held within them the authority to decide their own fate, however limitedly they could accomplish that.

And what did they do with it?

Leto glared at Nemisis as she walked by, the supposed Goddess of retribution. She claimed to speak of fairness and equality, but she was more an agent of discord and chaos than even Eris! She was one voice amongst many, those among the "minor" gods that rebelled against the idea, attempting a coup at the first meeting that Hera adjourned. It was a shame to, for Hera would have made an excellent moderator, that much Leto had full faith in. But no, these spiteful and arrogant minor deities wanted to RULE. They didn't wish to change, they merely wanted to empower themselves, believing that somehow having the throne would grant them power. They were wrong. The minor gods were not called "minor" as a mere disregard, as a mere insult. They were called minor…because they were WEAK. Zeus alone stood amongst their numbers and cowed them under his heel at the first slight against Hera. Say what you would about Zeus, they were all true, but attack a member of his now called Olympians…and he would destroy you. Thousands of Minor Gods attempted to murder Hera, Poseidon, and Hermes. Zeus obliterated hundreds in an instant, sending them screaming into the realms of Tartarus. He waged a vengeance upon them so fierce, that it was struck from the records to never be spoken of again. He lamented their weakness, decreeing that any "minor god" was free to try and take his throne he would not fight it. He even warned them. Afterwards, he declared himself a god of "Justice". He allowed each minor god to "sit" upon the thrones the Fates decreed, and each of the usurpers perished under the weight, dust to return to the primordial realms. The Olympian Gods were not called Major gods as a small difference in power, it was an absolute insurmountable difference. That was what made Nemesis so much worse than any of the other minor gods. She acted as if she was their equal, believing wholeheartedly that she would eventually defeat the Olympians and claim "the proper state of things" as she liked to explain it. That her dominion over retribution would somehow circumvent the gap between their abilities. It was hilariously delusional. It was if everyone forgot the day that Goddess almost died, shattered into countless pieces when she attempted to usurp the king's throne. To make it even worse, Leto remembered the Goddess of retribution attacking Hestia, HESTIA of all deities, and was defeated soundly without Hestia raising a finger. The sheer weight of her divinity was enough to almost snuff Nemesis out entirely once more, her domains useless against the Olympian's might. No, attempting to rule in any other way than a monarchy was impossible for their kind. Power was the only answer they used…and Zeus had plenty. Has he changed while on the throne, indubitably. But Leto felt the flame of her attraction for him roar just as loudly as it always had.

Yet why was she not rushing through the pristine marble of Olympus to his side? Hera had zero qualms about their relationship, she cared little for the opinions of others when it came to her marriage, viewing it as a tool for her own power than for something like love. She would not fight for her marriage…but her image on the other hand? She would kill to maintain that, with a ruthlessness that made Zeus look like a tame lamb. So no, Hera was of no consequence. Despite this fact, Hera was the reason that Leto felt so adverse being with Zeus now. The one she was moving towards was not her lover…but his wife. She needed to know. The crimson hair and cool amber eyes still resonated with Leto, a heat to her cheeks at the sight of such a God still bringing a heat to her that she only felt from Zeus and Pallas, the titan of war. Hephaestus was powerful. There was no doubt that as…broken, as he was that he was Olympian in strength. But it was his core that made Leto yearn for him so. Gods normally hid their nature, thus far only one other lived with the core open…and that was Zeus. He cared little for what people saw and that honesty made her adore him.

Zeus was wild and free, a tempest that someone could hold and be swept away by. To him, she submitted. She smiled at the memories of their coupling. Domineering but charismatic, he was the perfect lover for when she wanted to be swept away.

Yet, there existed Pallas. Pallas was a different breed. Disciplined and devoted, the Titan of War never strayed from his lover Styx, the spirit of the river in the Underworld. She wanted that devotion, that obsessive and committed love. The thought of Pallas being her champion as he was Styx's made Leto almost swoon on the spot. Yet, no matter her advances, Pallas remained undeterred and unmoved. Was it worse that made her want him more? A toxic and addicting love that would never be. A love that she wanted to conquer and bask in.

But Hephaestus. He was fire and metal. Resolute, unbending, and wise beyond his years. Both calm and outrageous at the same time. She knew not how he was tempered the way that he was, nor how he felt so…worldly to her. He was stable and…kind. There was a gentleness to him that was absent from so many of their kind, if not non-existent. Yet, Hephaestus was a beast all his own. Dependable and disciplined as Pallas, wild and unmoving like Zeus. It was not the savage wild that Zeus embodied, and her daughter inherited. No, he was a more disciplined beast. If Atremis and Zeus were wild animals, then Hephaestus would be like a slumbering bear. Docile and uncaring of those around him to a point, but Leto could feel it. If pushed, Hephaestus was a killing machine with few equals. The call of steel that rung in his soul was a match for Ares pound per pound. It was like he was a God of war, but without the concept. Gods were such prideful creatures…and he had no pride whatsoever. He relentlessly honed his domains and skills without pause and yet still pursued his own ideals. Yes, Leto would admit her desire to have him. He was…a treat, a one-of-a-kind creature. Who knows what sort of result would occur from their coupling. Would he be good? Would a child be the result? Who knows. Hephaestus was a love she wanted to dominate, to have power over. Each of the three the only ones to make her feel like a fire raged within her. Each of them a pursuit she wouldn't stop, as was her nature.

Normally she wouldn't care who got in her way, but these thoughts were tainted by the idea that Hera was somehow his mother. She needed to know, for that alone would stay her hand. She had overstepped a lot with Hera. Leto…respected her. No, she loved her. But to love a woman in that way was…distasteful. Hera had little inclination to be that way, far as Leto could tell, and she would respect that. If Hera was Hephaestus' mother…she would respect that to. It was funny in a way, the wrath that Leto feared was not Zeus, but Hera.

One need not look further than Ares to understand why. The fires of war did not come from the King of the Gods, but rather from the absolute fury that Hera held within her. Zeus was callous and angry…but Hera was spiteful, cruel, and yet kind and motherly. A dichotomy that Leto respected and feared in equal measure. If Hephaestus truly was her son, that she would not tread on her grounds…though the forbidden nature of it simply made it sweeter. Thanks be to Chaos her children were finally old enough, Leto didn't need them staring at her when she tried to seduce Hephaestus if all went well. She made that mistake only once when Pallas was forced to attend to her in that dimension, a favor that she took from the river Styx. She smirked, remembering the chained spirit's inability to stop her from cashing that favor, chained forever more to her stupid river…though the smirk Styx shot her in response was aggravating. It was made even worse when Pallas rejected her fiercely and totally. Perhaps one day. The thrum of desire flowed through Leto…and she rushed even faster. The Gods did not practice rooms like humans do. Instead, Olympus was a series of connections that led to pathways to entire pocket dimensions forged by their respective gods. Ironically enough, nothing stopped the minor gods from doing the same thing as the Olympians, they just chose not to. It was even funnier when they complained about it. It was another sign of weakness, that they were incapable of producing their own reality. Hera's was as beautiful as she remembered. As Leto entered Hera's domain, she saw the artistic sway of her dimension, the way the flowers were arranged, the colors of the sky. It was like a painting brought to life in a cascade of swirling colors. Now that Leto thought about it…it was like Hephaestus, this artistic quality. She lacked her son's skills, but her artistic talent was in no way inferior to even her son. A "Natural" talent that existed outside the domains that Hera embodied. Hera herself stood tall, like a centerpiece in this art. She was not too dissimilar to a tanned Caucasian woman. Her form was broad, with powerful hips and wide shoulders. There was no mistaking the regality Hera embodied. Her brown hair flowed in a tight bind of curls, topped with a tiara made of celestial gold colored rich olive green. Her chiton wrapped around her like a flutter of wings, bearing patterns of the peacocks she was oh so fond of. When she turned to Leto, her smile grew faintly, a stern and regal expression on her face. She clasped her hands in front of her, a habit that humans seemed to mimic but never attached to her. Her eyes shone an illustrious gold. Years ago, Leto would have proclaimed that no gods mortal form would ever match the hue of Hera's eyes. None bore the golden irises that made Hera so unique. It shone like amber, a deep but cold like glint to them that bore right into you.

Eyes that were identical to the hawk like nature of Hephaestus. Leto almost faltered, staring into Hera's face. There were differences, no doubt of them, but the similarities they shared were too identical to not realize they were related. Apart, one would barely know…but put them side to side and…quite frankly it was eerie how much the two were similar. Their hair was different, so was their build, but the way they looked and acted was far too great to pretend they were not related. No matter what Hera said here…Leto knew the truth. Especially when the small shard in her possession, the crystallized essence of Hephaestus' divine power, glowed softly. Such occurrences were normal amongst the gods, shining crystals and strange magic doodads, so Hera paid it no mind. She walked forward and gracefully placed her hand on her friend's shoulder.

"You must be excited," she said, whispering with a smile, "the day you wanted has finally arrived. Is it everything you were hoping for?"

Hera snapped her fingers, and a nymph appeared. She bore ambrosia and nectar. Leto took the offering and the nymph promptly disappeared. Hera scowled a bit at the lingering essence the nymph left behind.

"It's a pain training the new hires. Honestly, you'd think they'd learn to stop leaving behind their ilk."

Leto smirked, agreeing completely. While Nymphs could be described as beautiful, they were ultimately just nature spirits. The earthen spirits were the most docile, in comparison, but had the nasty habit of "pollenating" their surroundings. It was irritating. Hera waved her hand and her divinity crushed every instance of the Nymph's presence. The nymph herself was unharmed, Hera not dabbling in the disgusting practices of her fellow Gods of…desecrating her followers. It must have been why the nymphs always clamored to work for her it seemed.

"The ceremony will begin shortly," assured Hera, "both Artemis and Apollo will be welcomed with open arms to Mount Olympus…though I doubt that is why you are here."

"No, it is not. Hera…I may ask a question that may irritate you. I request that you forgive me for any slight."

Hera bore into Leto, and for a moment a savagery equal to her son's echoed through the room. But like the queen she was, Hera crushed such emotions in her mental grip, maintaining the regal appearance of her station.

"Very well. You have always been a staunch ally. I owe you that much. I swear on the Styx."

The skys darkened as the power of Styx echoed through. Leto smiled, brittle as it was as Styx's "hand" flicked her. Aggravating bitch.

"We both know I owe you are more," said Leto, "I want you to know that I…that I love you. That I will always be your friend and ally…so…"

It hurt her to say it, but it she needed to know.

"….Hera…do you….did you…"

Thunder cracked through the realms above them as Zeus appeared in a shower of lightning. It took a moment for a human-like form to take. He usually preferred being one with the winds over a human guise, but for ceremonies like these the Gods found the human forms to be the best way to enjoy them. He appeared with hair as white as any cloud and eyes as azure as the very sky itself. He sported a medium sized beard this time, experimenting with the facial hair that male humans sometimes adorned. His skin was darker, taking a more tanned tone than the denizens of Greece. He appeared as he always did, and it made Leto chuckle a bit remembering that little tidbit of Polymorphism. The funny thing about human forms was that the Gods did not "create" a body, but rather became a proxy human. The human form Zeus took was what he would have looked like if the concept of human was part of his core…at least in part. The beauty and strength his form carried was augmented by divinity of course, so it was not an exact translation, but it was a state that he could not alter either. Due to this strange peculiarity, Gods could appear in a variety of skin tones and hair colors. Those that were directly related, like parent to child, would share some core physical traits, but as a species? Some were colored as humans were, with pale or dark skin. Others appeared otherworldly with skin that shone like stairs or faces with no features. Some had horns or were shaped like animals. Whatever appearance they took was set from the moment they were born, expressed with magic like polymorphism. Small alterations like hair color, slight shapes, or other like features were possible to change…but that was it. Leto felt her question die as Zeus wrapped his arm around Hera. He looked at his Queen with eyes that glowed with respect and admiration…but most importantly with gratitude.

Leto genuinely hated the part of herself that was jealous of Hera in this moment…but it was short lived.

"Hera, the preparations you've started have been completed ahead of schedule. Thank you for lending us Argus. I have to say, your creation is surprisingly competent. Think you can make another for me?"

Hera scoffed.

"Argus is one of a kind, "dear". If you wish to have your own, merely make one."

Zeus shrugged.

"We both know you are the better weaver."

Hera smiled back, thin…but genuine.

"Sadly, such skills are not as prevalent as a warrior."

Zeus rolled his eyes.

"You always compare that. Apples to Pomegranates I say. Either way, an old argument. I have done nothing to shame your craft have I? Not to mention you are the one responsible for crushing Atlas' skull in the war."

Ah, that. It was funny watching the minor gods belittle Hera sometimes, forgetting that she had the most physical strength out of all the gods currently when they were invoked in physical forms. Leto had a sneaking suspicion that her son, Hephaestus, might be stronger. Zeus turned to her, and Leto felt that she alone held his love and affection in that moment. The way his features softened…the love he held for her was genuine. Granted, she was not his only love, but neither was he to her. They both knew exactly what the other was like…hilarious how that made their coupling work of all things.

"Are they ready?" he asked, excitement trembling from his voice. For all of Zeus' faults, for which there were many, the love he had for his children was genuine and true. The horror of Kronos' failings as a parent ensured that Zeus was nowhere near the level of tyranny and cruelty that was that Titan's parenting style…he wasn't perfect but when your comparison was basically the devil, anything looked good in comparison. The realm began to peel back as Zeus began bringing them to the main hall. Leto panicked a bit, not expecting things to be progressing this quickly, even for their divine senses.

"Hera, I mean this with the greatest urgency, there is something we need to talk about as soon as possible!"

Hera nodded.

"And we will…after you watch your children ascend to their thrones."

Leto could feel it in her core…something was at play here. In an instant they were in the grand hall, her children adorned in the styles and clothing of their choice. They were stunning and glorious. Leto could do nothing but beam at her two children, basking in their achievements. The ceremony, for all the bluster and pageantry, was excruciatingly simple. There were no words, not for Gods. No, there was only power. Within Mount Olympus existed 12 "thrones". They were not thrones as mortals knew them, but rather a metaphysical seat of power without shape. A shard of creation that was splintered into 12 core pieces. Kronos, for all his power, was incapable of surviving the weight of these colossal sources of energy. It was why her dear previous King sought the Primordial of Time's Power so frantically. What little he managed to obtain from the Primordial of Time made Kronos an absolute powerhouse overnight, granting him aspects beyond being the Titan of Harvests…and what had ensured the misunderstanding of how these thrones worked. Each of the minor Gods looked on in jealousy, believing that they too could embody aspects beyond their cores. One even ran past the twins to try and take power for themselves. Apollo and Artemis were unbothered by it as they continued moving, watching the random minor god splinter into a thousand little pieces, their core crushed beyond the eternities. A true and final death. Golden dust parsed through the winds as Apollo and Artemis "sat". Their Olympic power surged beyond Leto's own a thousand times over…and they were comfortable. The shards of creation melded seamlessly and completely into their being. They had become OLYMPIANS. It should have been a party, a grand celebration. Of course, her children were unaware of the relationships and drama that had been brewing over the years. They basked a little in their well-earned praise…and then Zeus revealed his weapon. He had grinned at his children, promising them the services of Olympus's grand craftsman. Before Hephaestus, Leto would have said without a doubt that Zeus' symbol of power was unmatched. Leto bit her lip as her children revealed their symbols of power…and doomed Hephaestus. The room soared as 100% of their energy filtered through their items. Leto half expected the weapons he crafted to simply explode…and yet they were unmarred. If anything, the weapon seemed to be emboldened by their power, somehow growing even further in strength and matching her children beat to beat. Artemis' grin grew savage again, pumping even more as a show of strength. Her bow shone brightly in a silverish hue, what meager amount of divinity the weapon couldn't contain leaking through. Again, the weapon was sturdy and strong. The minor God's jealousy died, the full weight of Artemis' power finally hitting it the truth home. They were weak…that was it. She expected Zeus to have jealousy or even fear…but her lover proved his mettle yet again. Zeus marveled at them, clapping in unexpected happiness. Young as he was, the King of the Gods had not yet known the betrayal of his siblings and family…and as such was not thrown to the path of power and obsession. As such, he did fear their power, rather he craved it for his own, wanting a weapon just as personalized and strong.

"Now, where did you end up getting that my children? Surely the cyclops have not made yet another breakthrough?"

Leto made to shush her children as discreetly as she could…but her son paid little attention, too engrossed in the praise and adoration. Artemis caught on, but she was too slow. Her brother laughed as he approached his father quickly, showing off his bow. Was the shape always like that? It seemed a little different to Leto now.

"My mother requisitioned a smith that remained on our lands for years! It was he that created our weapons, our symbols of power!" bragged Apollo, showing his weapon in full display. Now that Leto had a deeper look at it…did it always have five strings? It looked less like a bow now and more like a-

The sound that thrummed through the hall, in front of countless witnesses, was pristine. The songs her son played for a few moments took her breath away. For the first time Artemis looked at her brother, TRULY looked at him. She closed her eyes, enjoying the song that she recognized as the hum her brother had for all these years. Artemis realized in this moment that her brother wasn't stupid, rather he was gifted and never had the tools needed to really express that aside from his voice. Could he sing just as beautifully as he played? He usually just hummed.

"Breath taking isn't it! A Hephaestus Original!"

Leto cringed a bit, awaiting Hera's response…but there was none? Strange…did she not name her own child? Curious.

"Hephaestus?"

Zeus rumbled the words, his voice sounding like warm thunder. He whistled and Hermes appeared before him without issue. Leto always felt uncomfortable around her lover's son. He wasn't…bad, per say, but he always seemed so slippery and distant. The messenger of the Gods merely grinned and bowed to his father. She had to admit, the devotion Hermes had for Zeus was unmatched.

"To how can I be of assistance Lord Zeus?"

Zeus scowled, muttering something about father, before addressing his son.

"Find the one called Hephaestus and bring him here!" declared Zeus, "I would seek to reward him for the weapons he created! Invite him to Olympus with the opportunity to become our favored smith!"

Skilros, the current favored smith, was attended to by his three apprentices. He scowled dangerously, glaring at the weapons covetously. The way that ugly cyclops shook made her smirk in adjacent pride. Hephaestus life was about to turn over…but damnit if she wasn't prideful of the way his craft made others SQUIRM. Skilros was well known for being the best, having mastered the means of crafting Zeus' bolts to a high degree. Each individual bolt could draw up a once astounding 38% of his power. They were fragile, but excellent tools of war. Now? Now he was a joke, as he should be. A craftsman God, a proper one, has finally been born. With a dismissive gesture, Zeus expelled all but the chosen gods from Olympus, not wanting to deal with their annoying problems. Thousands of minor Gods and spirits were reduced to a mere hundred. Most of whom were Titans and stronger spirits. Apollo and Artemis stuck around, following after Zeus like lost puppies. The imperious frown he had adorned for a moment disappeared as he looked over at her, his smile wide.

"This was what was so important Leto? I admit, I would have liked to have known far earlier, but the surprise was excellent!"

Leto felt a part of her squirm a bit…as she nodded to Zeus' words, a smile on her face. She tried her best to help Hera…but it would not be at the cost of her relationship with Zeus. Hermes dispersed in an instant, his speed so great than he was moving across the entirety of Greece in seconds over and over again. The name was more than enough, with Hermes concept of "messenger" granting him the knowledge of who he needed to find. It wasn't just because the boy was fast after all that he was an Olympian as well as the messenger. The same went for Dionysus. The supposed "Drunk" as the minor gods put it, was a representative of the insanity that could plague mortals. He was physically the weakest of the Olympians, but in turn was absurdly potent in poisonous and chemical based magic. Dionysus was slumbering away, having slept the entire meeting away. Supposedly he was always sleeping off the more potent effects of his abilities. Hera wrapped him in a small blanket, scoffing a bit at his foolishness…yet like any mother she cared for him deeply. Leta swallowed a bit, smiling at her own little family with Zeus, perhaps things wouldn't turn out so bad?

-Around this time, Hephaestus and Calliope-

How this absurd thing occurred, Hephaestus didn't know. Calliope took a deep breath, her chest heaving as the sweat ran down her chest. She ran her hands over her chest sensually, staring at Hephaestus.

"So," asked Calliope breathlessly, "what do you think?"

Hephaestus ran his fingers over, following every trace and curve. Her breath hitched as he reached a key area. He clicked his tongue.

"Right here," he explained, his breath visible with the cold frisky night air, "this is why the structure tends to fall."

Calliope sighed, rubbing the sweat off her brow.

"Of course, that makes sense."

Currently out in the fields, the two were building a bridge. A project that Calliope, as the craftswoman of the village, was currently trying to figure out.

"You've built solid foundations, but the distribution of pressure is where the bridge is failing."

"…what?"

…ah…right. Smart, but uneducated. She didn't use the same terms that Hephaestus would.
"The weight of the people and materials, we need to distribute it across the bridge, minimizing the risk of collapse. The wood is supple and strong, but the overall structure is placing too much weight at key points. All the pressure causes the wood to crack before you can even finish making the bridge. See?"

He showed her one of the broken pieces she kept around. He put it back together and gave it to her. She slowly separated the pieces, mimicking the way it splintered from it's own weight. The god of craftsman smiled as he watched her begin to figure it out on her own. For hours they simply discussed ideas, with little direct input from Hephaestus. As the sun began to rise, Calliope rubbed her chin, and at that moment she was devastatingly beautiful to Hephaestus. She had carved a life for herself, honed her own skills, and was living off those hard-earned skills and supporting her family's dreams. Her son was an artist, and her daughter took after Hephaestus and pursued the type of meals that he cooked for them that night. How could he not respect such gumption and drive? He laughed as she snapped her fingers, turning to him not as an answer board, but a sound board. She talked of ideas and he in turn inspired her to think in other directions, rewarding her intuitive behavior with small hints to keep her ideas going. Who knew that teaching could be so fulfilling? But, like everything else in the world, even this had to end. Calliope began leading Hephaestus elsewhere. He presumed it was to the village, as he in truth forgot the way there. As a divine entity he didn't really forget anything he committed to memory. The problem lied in the fact that he needed to commit his experiences to memory in the first place. He could have sworn this was a symptom of ADHD, though he struggled to understand why his brain would jump to that conclusion. The comfortable silence broke as they neared a river.

"Thank you Lord,"

"Hephaestus is fine. I am no lord," he interrupted.

That seemed to be the right thing to say, for Calliope grinned. Her smile showed what few wrinkles were currently on her face, but it did nothing to deter her beauty to him. What was age to someone like him? He was technically eons old if one went by memories lived. He looked damn good for it to. A bit bulkier than he would like though, his larger frame throwing off his techniques for now.

"You are so different. So…warm," she whispered, "tell me…do you hear the prayers we've sent?"

Hephaestus blinked, his raw surprise making Calliope smile even more.

"So, you are not the same. I figured."

"I did not ask to be worshi-"

Calliope turned around, a red blush on her face but a blaze of determination in her steps. The intensity made Hephaestus silent. They were alone currently, out in the open, but far from the villagers. She had invited him out here after dinner to escape the notice of the villagers. Apparently, the word of a God in their village spread far faster than he had ever expected, the story that Agnes had spread for years making him highly recognizable. It started off as a small conversation, but Hephaestus learned that she was the one crafting all sorts of things for the village. She had apparently married her husband for precisely that desire for crafting, adoring his ability to hone items. She wanted to build and create but felt patronized and belittled by those in her family and to her dismay her own husband. She mentioned that he had inspired her that night, stating his opinions about fate and the Gods. She had never been happier having put her own life in her own hands.

She entered his personal space and placed a hand on his chest. She…she cooed?

"You are warm," she whispered, "I figured you'd be."

He sputtered, wondering why she kept saying that, and she laughed. It was sputtered with a guttural snort…but he didn't care. The warmth he felt was more than enough. It was not a blazing passion, but rather a steady stream. A comfortable one. He hesitantly placed his hands on her face, not really sure how to progress things from here. She caught on immediately as she grasped his hand, smirking the whole time.

"Oh you sweet man. You must be young."

She laughed even harder at the look of slight reprimand.

"I should be struck down, no? For such impunity?" she teased, her nose brushing against his own.
"Never," he said, the intensity almost suffocating, but his face never moving from her own. Instead, he seemed to weigh her down with his own gaze. She endured, basking in what it meant. She had never felt more alive in this moment, it was if every touch made her feel like fire itself. For a time, she had regretted not trying a bit more with her ex-husband, feeling that if she perhaps gave him more attention, that their relationship might have been different.

What a sick joke. This moment, this feeling…it showed her just how naïve her thoughts had been. There was no manufacturing this. It was either a have or have not and most assuredly she had THIS.

"I want you," she stated, being sick and tired of his inexperience. She frowned a bit at the sight of him retreating a bit emotionally. She placed her hand on his face, recognizing the expression. After all, she wore the same one for years. The face of someone terrified to love another. Her relationship with her children years ago was far worse than she had ever envisioned, not realizing how distant she was from them until after Hephaestus. After she had begun applying herself to her craft, focusing on her and her own happiness, she realized just how much of her hate for her husband and herself that she had been putting on her kids. Their relationship was like night and day, the love she felt for them surpassing itself every time the sun rose up. She had made her life with her own bare hands…and she would have this God as well. She smiled softly, bringing his hand to her breast. He blinked and stared at her.

"Is this not too qu-"
She stared at him with a droll expression. Honestly, she felt that this should have been easier.
"I do not seek marriage young man. Merely a night."

He surprised her as he seemed to resolve himself. She felt a thurm of power underneath her fingers, the caress of his muscles suddenly increasing in heat. It wasn't burning her, but for a moment she could have sworn she saw a series of ruptures across his skin, like the flow of magma over the earth.

"You'll have to deal with several, I'm afraid."

She grinned, bringing Hephaestus to the first kiss he had ever had in his life. Memories that EMIYA had of such occurrences were…rare. Plentiful yes, but rare when compared to the rest of his immense life. Whatever he experienced in those memories though were pale imitations of this. Her tongue entered his mouth as she began to apply more pressure, pushing herself into him more. This was not love, he knew that from the start. This was raw passion, an escalation of attraction and the realization that their lives were short. She wanted him and knew of his attraction to her. What use was there in waiting and hoping. She realized her own desires and decided to grab the object of said desires with her two hands and…well shit he had to admit he respected that.

She shivered as he lifted her with ease, running his hands everywhere but her chest. She growled a bit, biting his lip and scowling.

"…this isn't your first time, is it?"

"….It is," he whispered, "I swear."

She stared at him, her blush increasing.

"Goo-"

"Hello there!"

"FUCK!"

Hephaestus blinked as she jumped right off him, showing a rather spry agility. He stared at her, not expecting the swearing. He turned and saw…a pretty boy? His hair was sandy and married with a tanned complexion. His eyes were a striking blue, and his easy-going smile was nothing short of a tragic mix of charisma and mischief. It wasn't until he analyzed the dagger at his hip that he knew who this was.
"Lord Hermes," bowed Hephaestus, shielding Calliope behind him. She bowed as well…but kept close to him. Hermes was immensely beautiful. She couldn't help her attraction to him, but the way he made her feel was…squirmy. There was no denying her guttural attraction, but the way Hephaestus made her feel was far more intense. This was a God…and he was here for her…lover? Friend? Both? She didn't know what Hermes wanted but she didn't like it. Mainly because she couldn't stop him.

Hermes wore a bright blue robe, one that only flowed to his knees. His legs were immensely muscular, his physique lither and more compact than one might expect. But his skin was the most alluring part of him. It sparkled with electrical energy, his father's blood potent and screaming from within. He looked like a lightning bolt that was screaming through the sky was just brought to life.

"To what honor do I owe your visit," knelt Hephaestus.

Once again divine pride won as Hermes nodded, enjoying the moment.

"Zeus requests your presence."

"I understand, I'll leave immediately."

Hermes blinked but thought nothing of it. Hephaestus wanted to go as quickly as possible, not wanting Hermes to have any ideas about anything. If he made for Calliope for even a moment...then Hephaestus would learn just how far he'd go to protect someone. Hermes gripped his shoulder, smiling apologetically.

"hey man, sorry for the cock block, I'll make sure to drop you off here later! Heard about your bummer core from our Centaur friend. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," he winked.

Hephaestus was the picture of serenity, but inwardly he knew that Hermes was full of shit. The second he could profit from it, Hephaestus' secret was out. He had no personal loyalty to him…thought to say that Hermes was out to get him was also incorrect. This was the issue with the gods. One moment they were genuinely loving you…the next you were their arch nemesis. He had to be careful. The light exploded out from them, leaving Calliope behind to worry.

-Mount Olympus-

Mount Olympus proved…different than what Hephaestus was expecting. To think the entire place was just a collection of forged realities was an interesting way to do things. It effectively gave all the Gods a place to call their own…though a way to organize it better would be prudent. Now it was a swirling mass of raw energy, with only the grand hall being a solid-like state. Perhaps a collection of buildings as a gate way/container for these separate pocket dimensions? Either way he remained waiting outside the hall, waiting for the moment he was called forth. No one was here, well…not until Leto was at the gateway, giving him a warm smile. He nodded, appreciating her silent support. Then the thunder boomed. He took a breath, wondering if this was really it…was he ready? While he was mess inwardly, his outer appearance was stout and calm. As he walked the steps, he ignored the minor gods. For a time, he had envisioned that the minor gods were these abused and mistreated beings.

Now that he was older, more experienced, he knew that to be false. Or, at the very least not as bad as rumors made it seem. Zeus was more of a hands-off king than any other in the reign of the Greek Pantheon. Each of these Gods had more freedom than they've ever had, bar a few direct restrictions that Zeus declares. Most of which tended to do with his many lovers. No, what they hated was one simple fact. Something these minor gods could never truly overcome no matter their struggles. They were terribly weak. The fall of Chronos weakened those that were loyal to him and shifted sides at the last minute to stand with Zeus. Ironically it was not Zeus who cursed them, but Kronos himself. Zeus simply didn't care to fix it and now the damage was irreparable. Even Hephaestus was stronger than them, and his core was broken for Chaos' sake. The jealousy and disgust they sent his way told him that Hermes' promise to keep his secret was already broken. The question was whether it was Hermes or someone else that broke that promise.

Walking through Olympus proved to be a far easier task than he anticipated. He thought with the variety of dimensions that it would be a long trek, but no. It was merely a straight shot down a beautiful but unrefined marble corridor. The deeper he went, the more deities could be seen, many of whom Hephaestus didn't even know were part of the Greek pantheon. Eventually he reached the throne room, though they lacked thrones, only having a large square stand not unlike the kind politicians would stand on during debates. The entire room was filled with Gods, filled with a contempt that would have crushed his self-esteem ages ago. It was barely a pip now. He was stronger, so much more than he ever thought he would be. Well…that was until he saw her. Sitting beside Zeus in all her regal attire…was Hera. In a second, Hephaestus could see all the features he got from her. Their eyes were an identical shade of gold, the only two in the entirety of the room. The wild shape of their hair was even the same, though the shades were entirely different. Hera kept her hair straight and embroidered with many jewels. The slight history he could gleam from it told him this was less of a power move and more of an image thing. Her hair, much like his own, had a mind of its own. It refused to stay down; much like him. The more he looked at her the more similar they seemed to be-

"What are you doing," thought Hephaestus to himself, "you are focusing on the wrong thing. Enough."

Like a gong, the thought eased his thinking. He knelt without leave, bowing his head deep to Zeus. The courtroom went quiet, and Zeus blinked at him.

"Rise." he intoned.

The booming voice was utterly infused with charisma. Much like Alexander the Great, Zeus spoke in baritone, with a posture that naturally inclined him to a more regal appearance. His darker skin was a bit misleading, but Hephaestus chalked that more to the nature of the cores of the divine than a conscious decision on Zeus' part. He stood, making sure that his legs were completely hidden under his cloth. What pieces of metal these Gods could see would only make them think he had armor on. He'd rather they not know the truth. Easier that way.

"Do you know why you've been summoned?"

"…no sir."

Zeus looked to Hermes with an exhausted expression. Hermes at least had the decency to look sheepish.

"I have seen your creations firsthand godling, the ones you've forged for my children. I ask you smith, are you capable of creating more?"

The basic respect was….unexpected. But it was not unappreciated, bullshit as it may possibly be. He maintained his gaze on the ground, just wanting this to be over with.

"As many as you need, my lord. I need only the essence of the God who needs it."

It took all the willpower of the Cyclops not to scream out BULLSHIT.

"Oh, care to demonstrate?"

Hephaestus never looked towards Zeus, always maintaining eye contact with the floor. For a moment, he could feel Zeus rubbing his head in a moment of pain. Shit, he hoped this wasn't the time that Athena was born.

"I can," stated Hephaestus, "but the time for creating divine constructs can take several hours."

This time the cyclops could not maintain his composure, snorting in derision. Hephaestus cared little…but Leto made her displeasure known. That in turn made Zeus raise an eyebrow. For a moment, the god of fire was pretty sure he was about to be killed. The jealousy of Zeus was well known. Yet, there no hint of such thing, merely curiosity.

"…does your method differ that much? I am no craftsman, that I admit freely. However, it is to my knowledge that such a practice does not take such a time. That is more along the mortal method, no?"

Hephaestus stood straighter but was cut off by Zeus.

"Stop looking at the floor and look at me boy. Honestly, I'm not going to smite you for asking questions. I am not my father."

Ah, right. Young Zeus. Freedom fighter Zeus. He locked eyes with Zeus and stumbled. The overwhelming power almost caused him to stumble in suprise…but he stood straight. The pressure was tolerable, surprising, but not suffocating in any manner. A fact that made the god grin widely. Suddenly the pressure in the room exploded as the others joined in, with Hera having a sideways glance at Zeus, as if giving him the dry eye would make him admit something. Hephaestus stood unbothered, merely raising an eyebrow at Zeus. He shuddered a bit as the man began laughing outrageously. He looked across the other current Olympians, they to were standing unbothered…but the rest were not as lucky. Like a massive pressure weighing down on them, the might of Zeus and the other Olympians made it nigh impossible for what few of the minor gods were still present to be standing.

"HA! I figured this would be the case," bellowed Zeus, "you're a strange one, but your strength seemed too great for a mere spirit!"

He clapped his hands, looking around the room, his voice booming through the mountain itself.

"A craftsman God has come to Olympus, seeking to ply his trade!"

That was not at all what was happening.

Zeus clapped again, his smile spreading.

"And the son of an Olympian! By Chaos you lot got me good!" he said, looking at each of his fellow siblings. Hera's face was dignified, but she seemed exhausted at this show and dance. It was if ADHD was manifested and upped on roids when Zeus spoke. It was absolutely electric….

"Ah, that would explain it," thought Hephaestus.

At the almost verbal inquiry, Zeus decided to explain himself.

"Sorry about that," he said with a smirk, "no simple god can withstand my might, much less our collective strength! Those that can are usually Titans or Olympians! So, tell me kin, to who does your blood flow from?"

The backhanded insults were par for the course for these Gods. The way the minor Gods were still collecting themselves made it obvious why Zeus bothered flexing his strength. It was a reminder, a rather uncaring one. The reasoning was dumb though. The jovial tone was far from what Hephaestus thought the king of the Gods would employ. It was strange how…personable this god was? This was nothing like the King of the Gods of Greek Myth that he knew of. The similarities between the mythologies of this world and EMIYA's were too close to simply consider it as different. Then again, the myths of Greece were always binary in a way. Sometimes the Gods were unfathomably cruel, in another they were blessing people and were beacons of virtue. Was something at play here? A thought for later.

The idea to simply announce his parentage was a strong one…but the idea of doing so here, that stalled his hand. He would not oust her…no…the truth was he was terrified. Here she was, dignified, strong, and beautiful. A mother…one in which lied the possibility of a family. Perhaps there was a reason? A silly concept that prevented her from-

He stopped the thoughts cold. Now wasn't the time. He remained silent as he looked at Zeus.

"I do not wish to take away from the prestige of Apollo and Artemis Lord Zeus, is it alright to discuss this another time?"

The once joyful expression dimmed considerably. The room's clouds darkened and the lord of the forge began to sweat slightly. Thankfully the sweat was not visible on his body at the moment.

"…quite presumptuous to dictate my actions no?"

Hephaestus looked down.

"My apologies Lord. If you truly wish to know then…my mother is-"
Zeus blinked.

"Mother?"

Hephaestus looked back up and nodded.

"I have no recollection of a father."

That much was true, even with EMIYA's memories. After all, Kiritsigu, for all his kindness, could not rightly be called a Father. At least, not a standard one. When the son took care of the father the way Shirou did, it was difficult to call that man a father in truth, no matter how he felt. Perhaps a reflection of EMIYA's/Hephaestus' resentment.

"Interesting. Is it Demeter? You seem to possess an earthen quality to you?"

Zeus began laughing, the lightning above trickling softly, impossible as it was.

"NO! Let's have some fun with it! Hermes, bring me the-"

A crystal was bestowed to Zeus immediately. He looked at his son, a large toothy grin as he took the crystal gratefully.

"Always one step ahead?"

Hermes smirked, tilting his body forward in a boy.

"Always my Lord."

"Again, FATHER."

Hermes disappeared once more, a face amongst the sea of gods around him. The crystal was launched from Zeus' hand with a mere flick, but it flew as it if was fired from a cannon. So great was this speed that EMIYA would have faltered. However, his strength was far greater, and he caught the strange crystal without concern. The crystal shimmered a shining gold, resonating with his essence. Hepahestus blinked, staring at the Greek enchantments that filled the crystal. This was the work of Hecate, the Titan of Magic and Sorcery. The Goddess of Witches. The mother of Witchcraft…and the target for Hephaestus' next mentor. The magic used on this crystal was immaculate, he desperately wanted to know how to invoke such enchantments for his own use, if possible. Zeus chuckled a bit at his newest kin's fascination with the crystal. He held his hand up and was surprised at the grip this new God had. Even his brothers could not grip so tightly as he did, the crystal not even moving an inch.

"Incredible strength," complimented Zeus, "but I'll need the crystal for this little game."

His siblings all looked at him like the child he was. So, what if he was enjoying this, they were never together much anyways aside from him and Hera. Hera, for all her stiffness, was at least fun to interact with. Besides, he had to make a good first impression for this nephew he now had! The God of fire released the object. Then Zeus launched it at his brother. Poseidon merely kept the crystal away from him, floating it in magical grip. The crystal simmered, but the light died.

"Again, with this brother?"

Zeus chuckled a bit.

"I asked and no one answered. Come now, an Olympian of this strength and none of you have pride enough to claim the boy?"

For a moment, Hephaestus wanted to blow his own brains out. Who the fuck was…was this happy go lucky idiot? Then he remembered, not with EMIYA's memories, but…with his own? It was hard to describe it, remembering this life he lived before the inclusion of EMIYA. He was an entirely new person, one who took the name Hephaestus merely due to ease of use. 20 years as a God was effectively weighed down by the countless Era's being EMIYA. He admitted that he was more comfortable with the name Archer of EMIYA, but running around in ancient Greece with the name EMIYA was just asking for trouble. But even his old memories, few in comparison as they were, had nuggets of information. The realm of Olympus was relatively new, only a few centuries old. Certain myths had not occurred yet.

The cursing of Arachne was not yet a thing, simply because Athena had not yet been born.

The Oracles were not a thing.

Medusa and Perseus was a legend not yet formed.

All the myths that defined the Gods had not yet been told nor sung. The Zeus he saw now was a young God, one that had won his family back. Was it possible that this was the way Zeus used to be? Whatever made this God change so drastically? The way this God smiled for his children…it merely reinforced the idea that what information he had, while useful, was not complete. The crystal was now thrown to Hades. The lord of the Underworld was a rather…odd figure, at least to Hephaestus. Many myths portrayed the dividing of the world between the Big 3 to be a rather sordid affair, filled with betrayal as Zeus took the sky and left his brothers the scraps.

Yet, their nature as Gods was immutable, with Hades being a clear lord of the dead. Even now his physical form was flickering as it was drawn back to the Chthonian depths. The crystal too was dormant with him. From what Hephaestus could tell, the crystal would absorb the essence of a God, using the resonance between parent and child to glow. It was a rather ingenious method, making Hephaestus' desire to learn from Hecate grow even further. Though…he wondered why it was even created? Maybe a question for Hecate, he knew she was here within this very place, but his limited senses could not pinpoint that which he did not know. It was best to avoid using Hermes as an intermediary, he didn't want others to know of this desire. He had no shame discussing things with the lord of witches, but he doubts she'd like the attention of him calling out to her publicly right now. Also the whole debacle that was occurring left him quite unable to act.

Hades rolled his eyes and tossed the crystal to the center of the room. The crystal flew to Hestia. Whose flames merely caught the crystal. For a brief moment, the crystal did glow, but it sputtered out before anyone could say a thing. She turned to him and gave what had to be the most peaceful smile he had ever come across.

"Seems we share a domain, godling."

He lifted his hands, allowing the flames to billow out briefly. To Hephaestus, it was a show of fire. A little thing. To Hestia though…it showed so much more. The fire he had was nothing like Apollo's. Apollo was the sun, bright and hot. But Hephaestus flames carried with it a strength that was easily a match for her…and he was so terribly young.

"Could he be the one?" she thought.

Hestia banished such thoughts and looked to her brother. She gave a small smile and shrugged her shoulders, playing along with his little game. It was obviously in jest, considering the knowing looks the two shot each other. Hestia was a lush woman, full figured with a veil over her face that was thin and showed some features beneath it. What little of her features could be seen revealed a kind and demure expression, paired with a sea of chestnut hair. Her eyes shone with the embers of a dying flame, her skin not unlike the color of ash. Yet, that changed as she adjusted the hearth in the center of the entire place. Her skin darkened to a rich light tan, taking a more orange tint beneath the skin as the flames grew larger. The crystal flew to each god. Hermes, Aphrodite, Demeter, and even Dionysus. Ares was strangely absent for some reason, quelling a war between an ancient race of spirits and some such. Zeus raised an eyebrow and quickly blitzed the crystal across the entirety of the room. Not a single light shone among what few Gods and Titans remained after the ceremony.

"Hmm…interesting. Hera, could you be a dear and analyze this? I know Hecate's work is impeccable, but I'd like a second opinion before asking her to fix it."

The slightly terrified look he had made Hephaestus inwardly chuckle. It would seem there were women even Zeus would avoid. His heart hammered in his chest as the crystal grew closer. He felt his heart rise as the glow began to glow even brighter. It did not sputter out, nor did it flicker. The light was strong and steady. A true reaction. The room grew deathly quiet…and all eyes turned to him. He ensured his core was hidden, for simplicity's sake. He was ready for anything. For the wrath of Zeus, for the blitzing of Ares bashing through the door. Everything and anything was on the table…except for Zeus' laughter. The way he laughed was a joyous thing, echoing a sentiment of merriment and joy. He grasped his wife on her shoulders, his eyes wide.

"A child? Hera, why would you not tell me! This is a cause for celebration!"

Before she could even speak, Zeus rose up. The sound of thunder echoed throughout the chambers.

"Here me one and all! Hera, gracious queen of Olympus, has welcomed each of my children to our grand family. It is only right and just, that her own child be welcomed in turn!"

Hephaestus blinked, now raising his head to stare at Zeus. His core was wide open and for the first time Hephaestus saw the true form of a God's core. It was a beautiful sight with only one true description that did it justice. It was perfect. The colors, the concepts, everything about it was so pristine and defined that Hephaestus realized just how ugly he truly was compared to these other Gods. It did not bother him, but he could honestly say he understood where the sentiment was from if this is the kind of thing Gods could see from each other. What he saw within the depths of Zeus was nothing but pure serenity and relief. A joy for his wife and himself. The feeling of his family growing bigger and more profound. He saw within this man the same loneliness he himself possessed and like a starving dog, he ravenously lived each moment with this family of his.

"A craftsman God, ha! So much like her it's not even funny. She's a weaver herself you see, so seeing her talents blossom in her progeny like this must simply be fate's design!"

Hephaestus assumed the weaving that Zeus was talking about was not the one involving clothe, but either way Hera's continued silence and decorum was…empty. The rest of the proceedings were as silent as usual. He cared little for their discussions. He waited, allowing Zeus to return the attention onto his children. Hours passed to the point that the moon began to rise, still he bided his time until the minor gods and other Titans began to leave. All the other major Gods left as well, returning to their own domains, leaving only Zeus, his direct children, and Hera. Zeus congratulated Hera and left with his retinue. He seemed engrossed in talking with Apollo and Artemis, learning everything he could about them. Still, he ensured that he got Hephaestus' oath to craft him a weapon before he left. It was only them, or…at least it should have been. Almost as if she was hiding, Hestia remained to tend the hearth, but Hera didn't seem to mind. He looked at her now and drank everything in. Her skin was flawless, her hair a deep chestnut color, there was a similarity between them on the cheekbones and jaw, but most defining between them was the eyes. The exact shade of gold between them, shining and bright. Strange how that worked didn't it? How EMIYA in his life, Hephaestus, and Hera all shared this same shade. He opened his mouth.

"Get out."

His mouth closed. Hera's eyes were cold, lifeless, and without mercy. The illustrious shine belied a cold and heartless demeanor. Wasn't she supposed to be different?

"You do not belong here," she muttered distastefully, "I know not how you survived, nor do I care. Zeus had his moment to return to me the respect I've given him and his kin. For that, I admit was quite nice. However, they know not the abomination you are. I do. Olympus has no need for your dirty blood, especially one that has been tainted by mortal essence."

Her eyes were a savage gold now, glowing with divine power.

"Your core may be hidden to others, but to ones such as myself, your nature is as blatant as any. Take your twisted disgusting self and leave my premises. This is your only warning."

He felt nothing but a pit within his stomach. The hope was crushed by the overwhelming weight of despair. But he was not the desperate scared Godling anymore, vengeful to the world. Instead, he was a desperate Godling…with his hopes dashed. EMIYA's experiences shone their brightest this day, for Hephaestus dull expression never wavered and his voice never shook.

"I understand, however I cannot comply."

Her eyes bore into him, the room beginning to frost over.

"Oh?"

"Zeus has bade me to create arms for him and his kin. I cannot disobey the direct order of the King. Though, I will do my best to limit my interactions with you specifically my lady."

Every word rung with a hollow undertone, one practiced by EMIYA to be as unburdened and empty as possible. He just wanted to leave. Of course, this was how it ended…why would it be any different.

"At least you understand your station," she muttered.

The words stung…but it was the callous disregard, the lack of empathy, and the lack of guilt that really irked him. But it was not the flames of rage that echoed within him, but the cool waters of resignment. He should have known. There were differences, yes, but that didn't mean everything was different. She wanted a perfect child, beautiful in all ways…and he was simply not it. Hestia made no move to even look at him…she simply tended to her hearth. Hera left, already regaling herself for her duties the following day. He must have knelt there for an other solid hour before he got up.

"I will be leaving now Lady Hestia. I hope you enjoyed your show."

Perhaps it wasn't a smart idea to mouth off to her, but Hephaestus didn't care. But, if he had lingered, perhaps if he was more vindictive and pettier, he might have seen the way she turned to look at him with nothing but shock and horror. She reached out to him, desperately wanting to explain the way her nature worked…that she never knew she was visible to him. That they needed to approach her and not the other way around. She gritted her teeth, a small tear flowing at the sight of his back to her, nothing but pity for him and disgust for her sister. The flames of Olympus that she tended swelled in her anger, but she quickly quelled it. For him than, a small repentance. With a simple gesture, she returned him to whence he came, a small and simple spell for a Goddess like her.

To Hephaestus, the world twisted on itself, and he found himself on the outskirts of the village. The party must have been over, for the moon was shining bright in the sky and not a single person was in the village. They must have been asleep. As a God, sleep was more of a suggestion for someone like him so it made sense that his own biological clock would be off for gauging the time. He felt no need to look to the stars or to gauge it, for he quite frankly didn't recognize any constellations that he saw for the moment. After all, Artemis has yet to create them. He wandered through the village and was off putted by the sound. Rather, the lack of it. His steps grew quicker as he entered, noticing damage and a few broken homes…one building was even beginning to smolder with a small growing flame. He rushed through now, running to the buildings. He saw blood, broken homes, and when he entered the home of Calliope…he saw nothing but bloodshed and the gnawed upper half of Agnes, her eyes dulled and dead.

He fell to his knees and saw a long thick trail of…something entrenched in the dirt leading to the forest beyond. EMIYA would have shut down. EMIYA would stay in control. But…Hephaestus was his mother's son.

For Hephaestus raged…and the earth responded in kind. The village erupted in a sea of fire the likes the Greeks have not seen since the war against Kronos. The earth split and spewed a torrent of Magma as the aspect within Hephaestus screamed out. Every God within the Greek pantheon felt it within this moment, an unbridled rage and power that was a match for any Olympian. Hestia looked beyond her earth to the fragment across from her. It glowed fiercely and true, the host it had been waiting for was ready. But the tears she felt run down her face drowned her happiness, leaving only a singular feeling of pity.

From the sea of flames that was the village, Hephaestus walked out, his body alight and cracked like an erupting volcano. His flames harmed no wildlife, nor burned any trees, nor ground. But even so, he would find what had none this. For vengeance was the only thing he felt a this moment…and it would be cruel and exacting.

-END-

Hello folks! I hope you enjoyed this little chapter! I had a few reviews that had questioned why I was making Hera a "good person" and I so desperately wanted to laugh and respond with, since when? The Myths are mere guidelines for the story I am trying to make. Also, Hades 2 is a blast and has inspired me to write this chapter so much earlier than anticipated! Yea…Hecate was uh…something else. Yea. So…she's in here along with a few personality and creative choices that I liked from the game. That's not to say the Gods will be a one-to-one copy of the Hades 2 gods, but they're another source of inspiration that I will be heavily drawing from for this story. One aspect is integral to the story since the beginning, though it won't likely show itself for a time.

Also, what is a Greek Myth without some tragedy eh! It is the first time I've written about a character suffering and having tragedy like this before. It is usually indirect, something they've experienced, rather than experiencing. Let me know what you think!