Hephaestus: A Greek Mythology Gay

Retelling (Book 5 of the Mythologay

Series) B.J. Irons
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Hephaestus

B.J. Irons

Spectrum Books
Copyright © by B.J. Irons

Artwork: Adobe Stock – © macrovector, kotjarko, Darya.

Cover designed by Spectrum Books.

All rights reserved.

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-915905-12-3

Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-915905-22-2

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author of Spectrum Books,
except for brief quotations used for promotion or in reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are fictitious.

First edition, Spectrum Books, 2023

Discover more LGBTQ+ books at www.spectrum-books.com

 Contents

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9

Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21
Chapter 22
 _____________________________________

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“She [Thetis] saved me when I suffered much at the time of my great fall through
the will of my own brazen-faced mother [Hera], who wanted to hide me for being
lame. Then my soul would have taken much suffering had not the sea nymphs
caught me and held me. With them I worked nine years as a smith, and wrought
many intricate things; pins that bend back, curved clasps, cups, necklaces,
working there in the hollow of the cave, and the stream of Okeanos around us
went on forever with its foam and its murmur. No other among the gods or among
mortal men knew about us except those sea nymphs. They knew since they saved
me.”

-Homer, Iliad 18. 136 ff

 Chapter 1

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

***

Kidalionas was not the same person I had anticipated him to be. He was a phenomenal mentor and
extremely caring and nurturing towards me. It was the first time in my life where someone spoke to
me so… decently. My first few days spent on Lemnos Island with him were quiet. It was difficult for
me to open up to him after having spent some time in Zeus’s palace. I had been keeping to myself and
trying to avoid everyone like they were contagious with some terrible disease.
“Tell me, Hephaestus. What is it you like to do?” Kidalionas asked me that very first night I spent
on the island. We sat on the rough ground of the cave around a warm fire.
I had no words to say to him. I was still shaken up from this whole experience. One minute I was
up on Mount Olympus, preparing to accept the fate I had of being an Olympian God. The next minute,
Hera stripped all that privilege right from me. She was forcing me to live on an island in isolation
from the rest of the world and Mount Olympus until I grew to be better-looking. I had felt completely
abandoned and had no one in this world I could trust. Therefore, I closed myself off, trying my best
just to avoid having any sort of discussion with anyone, period.
My rendered silence prompted Kidalionas to speak up once again. “If you’re going to be spending
the next ten years with me, I suggest we start becoming more acquainted with each other. It’s
inevitable.”
 Still, I was in no mood to carry on a conversation. I was trying to digest all that had happened and
what this current situation was that I was now in. For the next decade I would be alone on this island,
spending most of my time in this cave with a strange mortal, shut out from the outside world. My ego
was bruised from the very moment I was born. My mind, fragile as ever from all that I had endured by
living with Hera and Zeus.
“Although your mother…” he began to say, before I briskly cut him off.
“Hera!” I quickly corrected him with.
“Yes. I forgot you don’t want me to refer to her as your mother. My apologies,” Kidalionas said
with what I could sense was sincerity behind his tone. “At any rate, Hera, referred to your legs as
weak, but I can see you more than compensate for that in the strength of your arms.”
This was an accurate observation from the old man. My arms were thick and wide. My biceps
were bulging, which was fairly unnatural for a male god my age. The second he told me this, my eyes
shot right up at him, no longer gazing into the flames, but staring directly into the fiery glow that was
in his eyes.
I realized that he just paid me a compliment. It was unheard of to my ears. No one had ever offered
me any form of praise, no matter how small, since I’d been on Mount Olympus. This was the very
first time I’d ever experienced such a remark, and I could instantly feel my insides practically melt
with warmth. The traces of dirt on my cheeks could not conceal the redness that they now displayed
from hearing Kidalionas admire the size of my arms.
“T-Thank you,” I found myself eagerly replying back to him.
The old man further offered me a wide grin. I could perceive the torridity that he was eliciting. He
was definitely trying to make me feel comfortable, but I had to wonder if there was an ulterior motive
for his kindness. Did he have an allegiance to Hera of some sort? Clearly, she must have trusted
Kidalionas enough to leave me here to grow up under his care. The fact that Hera found any mortal
reliable or let alone even had the time to meet and converse with any of them, was completely
unprecedented. But still, even if he were close to the repulsive Queen of the Gods, he didn’t have to
show me any bit of respect or altruism, yet here he was, doing so.
“You’re quite welcome,” he said. “Now, let me restate my earlier question. What is it you like to
do? Do you have any hobbies, skills, talents, or even passions?”
I softly shook my head. “No. I’m not good at much. I do like building things, though.”
“Building things?” Kidalionas repeated back to me. “Such as what?”
 “I used to take spare clay and molding I could find around the palace and create cities and
landscapes with it.”
“I see,” he said. “Have you ever thought of building other things?”
“Not really.”
“Well, what if I told you I could help you build things far more extravagant than some clay
buildings? What would you say to that?”
My eyes lit up at the mention of this. “Like what?”
“Finely crafted weapons, garments, you name it.”
“I mean, I could try it out. I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it,” I stated, doubting my own
capabilities.
“Nonsense. With those arms, and the godly strength you have, I’m sure you will have no trouble at
all. Come…” Kidalionas instructed, rising to his feet. “Follow me.”
I stood and followed behind as he led me deeper into this cave dwelling of his. There were tons of
different turns. We met so many forks in the path that I feared I would never get used to the layout of
this labyrinth.
Eventually, we arrived at a fairly open space. A tiny crevice at the apex of the ceiling let a trace of
glossy blue light from the glimmer of the moon pierce through. It shone directly on an obsidian
structure directly in the center of the room. It looked to be like some sort of obscure altar or table of
some sort.
Surrounding it were tools—metallic hammers, tongs, long rods in various shapes and sizes.
“It’s called an anvil,” Kidalionas stated, reading my mind.
“An anvil…” I softly spoke almost in a whisper, mesmerized by it.
But my attention was suddenly taking me elsewhere. There were also weapons against the walls,
including swords, knives, shields, breastplates, armor, gauntlets, cuirasses, and so much more.
My mouth gaped at how marvelous they all were. I approached one of the blades against the wall,
gently tracing my hand up and down its sharp shaft to its hilt. “Did you make all of these?” I asked,
stunned by how intricate the details of each of the weapons were. Even some of the gods didn’t
possess such fine crafts as these.
“Yes. I’ve been a blacksmith for nearly my whole life, creating only the most splendid of weapons
for kings, great warriors and even gods.”
“And you’re a mortal able to do all of this?” I naively wondered aloud.
 Kidalionas let out a deep belly laugh combined with some wheezing and a few coughs that
followed up. Once he regained his composure, he commented back to me. “Haha. Yes, my boy. Even
us mortals can attain skills that are above that of some gods and goddesses.”
“Impressive…” I remarked, still gliding my hand across the other works of metal as I ambulated
around the perimeter of the cave room.
“I could teach you to build weapons just as spectacular as these, if it’s a task you think you’d be
interested in,” he offered.
What else was I going to do? If I did not keep myself busy, I would just sit in this cave or roam the
island and remain bored for the next ten years. At least Kidalionas was here to offer guidance and
teach me a skill that I could potentially excel at. Clearly, the man was an experienced blacksmith, and
I would be remiss not to gain the knowledge that he was so willing to provide me on the trade.
“I think I would like that,” I replied.
“Just be warned. It will require a great deal of patience. You will undoubtedly make many mistakes
and it will take you years to fully master how to be an apprentice blacksmith, but if you maintain your
wits and focus, you will get there,” Kidalionas informed me.
Patience. That’s all I had to give if I was supposed to stay here on the island of Lemnos for the next
ten years. Of course, I would have the time and patience to perform any grueling task, no matter how
much time it took.
“I am up for the challenge. I just have one question, though,” I stated.
“And what is that?”
“When can we get started?”
 Chapter 2

began to consider the existence of a god compared to that of a mortal and how different the two
I could possibly be. There were obvious discrepancies everyone could recognize, including
strength, longevity of life, reflexes, and ability to pick up on new skills, etc. But one thing I have not
heard others speak about was how a god experiences time compared to a human.
Kidalionas had been training me on the art of blacksmithing for almost a week now, yet in my mind,
it felt like only two days. I brought it up to him and he merely shrugged. “I cannot say for certain how
you perceive the time going by, but I am sure that it has been a full week since you arrived here.”
I noticed Kidalionas kept referring to my arrival, almost as if it was a pleasant one. He would say
things like, “when you arrived” or “when you were brought to me.” I wasn’t sure if he didn’t blatantly
refer to Hera dragging me in the dirt and forcing me here to avoid the drama, or if he meant to not
speak any ill-will of the Queen of the Gods, knowing that if she caught wind of his verbal betrayals
that she could punish him. I was suspecting the latter when another idea surfaced in my head. Maybe
Kidalionas was not mentioning the details of how I came to reside on the island of Lemnos for my
own sanity. Anyone in the living world could tell that the way I was forced to come here against my
own freewill was barbaric. But perhaps Kidalionas was not referring to it in order to not bring on the
pain and hurtful memories from the scene for my sake. Also, I never once mentioned Hera since that
very first day. So, it could also be that my new mentor was just taking my lead and would only
mention and discuss it if I were to bring it up to him first.
“So, now that it has been a full week, I think you are ready to build your first sword all on your
own. What do say?” Kidalionas suggested.
I nodded, although I was slightly nervous. “Sure. I’ll give it a try.”
“Okay. Let’s see you put those techniques to use now.”
 I moved over to the forge I’d been working on all week. At first, Kidalionas and I tried using his
anvil, but we soon came to the realization that the surface of it was far too small for me. I kept losing
my balance on my weak leg and sometimes tripped, which was dangerous, considering I was working
with molten fire.
After a few minor incidents with the anvil, Kidalionas finally introduced me to his perfectly
circular forge that was built low and nearly into the ground floor of the cave. Once I began working
on it, we both saw how much less accident prone it caused me to be, and therefore we established
that this would be my primary space of work.
And it truly made all the difference. I crafted my first sword here so easily using a hammer, steel
rods, tongs, and steel blocks to shape and carve the blade. Once the weapon cooled down, Kidalionas
inspected it carefully, running his hand along the sharp edge.
“Impressive, Hephaestus!” he commended.
“Thank you.”
“Maybe I underestimated your ability and quickness to learn,” Kidalionas admitted. “Let’s try more
advanced techniques.”
Blacksmithing then became innate to me. In just a year, I was practically a master and became far
more skilled than even Kidalionas, himself, which shocked the both of us.
I found myself becoming obsessed with the trade. The catharsis of the scent of embers on steel and
the invigorating feelings I experienced when finishing a gorgeous product were addictive.
In five years, I had managed to craft some of the finest weapons the world had ever seen. Word of
my skills even made it as far as Mount Olympus. Zeus sent messengers to the island in request of
special items and weapons as gifts to other gods and goddesses. Although I detested the very thought
of doing any favors for the man that laughed and mocked me when I was born, I still had my wits
about me to know that not fulfilling a request from the King of the Gods could end with dire
consequences that I would have to endure. I shuddered at the very thought of it, being reminded of the
stories I’ve heard over the years of Zeus’s invoked wrath.
Therefore, I made all the finest weapons that he desired, including silver bows and arrows for
Artemis, Goddess of the hunt, moon and wilderness, and even a golden chariot for Apollo, God of the
sun, music and healing.
The chariot proved to be a great challenge for me. It would be the first thing I ever crafted outside
of Kidalionas’s cave in an open clearing. I found myself tripping on several occasions due to my
weak leg that gave out every so often when I had nothing to lean on. Zeus’s messengers continued to
pester me with wanting to know when the final product would be ready. It took nearly five months to
come up with the end result and when they retrieved it, I didn’t even get a single word of gratitude,
which irked me to no end. It was another chip on the tally mark of all the things Zeus and Hera did to
make me resent them all the more.
The time had flown by as I spent a majority of the hours in the day crafting and honing my
blacksmith abilities. Before I even knew it, ten years had already come and gone.
Kidalionas pulled me aside one evening to check in with my progress and my thoughts, patting me
on the shoulder softly. “There’s really not much left here for you now, Hephaestus. If anything, I am
now holding you back. I think it’s time you finally returned to Mount Olympus, to claim your right as a
god. Then, you will be able to build a fine palace with the greatest of workshops and tools at your
disposal to craft the most spectacular weapons the world will ever come to know.”
“But what about you, Kidalionas? Will you be okay all on your own?” I asked with worry. It was
very recently that I started to notice my mentor’s deterioration. He was much slower with his
movements and the time it took him to create a sword proved to be much longer than I was used to
seeing him doing.
“I will be alright, Hephaestus. You do not need to concern yourself with the likes of me. I will
probably no longer be of this world in the near future. I have come to terms with that and fully accept
the timeframe that the Fates have in store for me. Of all the weapons and armor I have developed in
my life’s work, nothing compares to one thing I’ve crafted recently,” he ambiguously stated.
“And what would that be?”
“You, Hephaestus,” he replied, so matter-of-factly. “I have taught an Olympian God the way of
blacksmithing. You have proven to be my most prized possession, to the point where you even
surpassed my own skills in just a matter of a few years. I will die peacefully and pleasantly knowing
of my contribution in training you to be a skilled god in the art.”
I could feel a trail of water fighting to escape the corner of my eye. “Thank you, Kidalionas. And
please, don’t say such things. You will still continue to live for many years to come. I am quite sure of
it.”
But I was mistaken and naïve to think such a thing. I remained on the island of Lemnos for another
three weeks. I wanted to finalize a few weapons I still had to finish before my departure up to Mount
Olympus. Yet it was clear Kidalionas became weaker with each passing day. I decided to extend my
stay even longer, staying by my mentor’s bedside, until his final moment left in this world.
 “Hephaestus, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’ve kept it to myself for all
these years, but I need to be able to say it now, as it may be my last chance to do so,” he uttered with
extra breaths in between most of his words.
“What is it? You can tell me,” I eagerly replied.
“Now that I’m on my way to the Underworld, I no longer have any fear of the other gods. So, I can
now share with you how I feel about everything.”
“About everything?” I repeated back to him.
“Yes. About how cruel your mother… Ah! Hera, I mean. How she treated you. When she flung you
to the ground on that very day you arrived, I knew I was instantly grateful for her lending you to me. I
knew I would care for you and build you back up to correct all the times she spent tearing you down. I
want you to be cautious when you return to Mount Olympus, Hephaestus. Keep your guard up around
her. A woman who could treat her son with such malice is a woman who should deserve no affection
in return. What she did to you was awful. And I hope I’ve done my part in helping to suppress the
rage you may have accumulated from all that time you’ve had to endure her wickedness.”
It was everything I needed to hear from him. All these years, I assumed there was a possibility that
Kidalionas had some sort of allegiance to Hera. And now, I was glad to be proven wrong. His words
were the validation I needed to hear. It was rewarding to know that someone agreed with me in
believing the way I was treated was brutal and unfair. This allowed me to finally shed a tear, one that
was harboring and waiting to come to the surface for over ten years in the making.
“You’ve done more than I could have ever asked for, Kidalionas,” I replied back to him, in
between a few sobs.
“But have I done enough? I do have one last request, Hephaestus. Consider it the one last wish of
an old, dying man.”
“Please! Tell me what it is. I’ll do it,” I adamantly answered.
“Promise me that you will withhold your rage. You may not realize it yet, but I know that based on
the harsh treatment you faced from Hera growing up, there must be a feeling of wrath and revenge that
stirs deep within you. Promise me that you will do your best to contain it. No good comes to the
world when a god is vengeful,” he explained.
To be honest, I was confused by this reaction of his. I was unsure of the rage that he spoke of. I
didn’t recall ever feeling it, but if it was what he desired, then I would give him my word. “I promise
I won’t seek any sort of revenge,” I commented.
“Thank you. Now, I can finally rest…”
 And the two of us remained silent as Kidalionas began to drift off to sleep. I sat by his side for
hours until I finally knew that this was an eternal slumber. He would never wake up again to see the
light of day. I already missed him. He was the only person I ever cared for in my existence. Now that
I had that taken away from me, I felt lost. A sudden wave of emotions overcame me.
I clenched my fists, as anger was boiling up within me. It was unjust to lose the only person I had in
my life that I considered family. But I had made a promise to Kidalionas. I needed to avoid
succumbing to this newfound fury if I wanted to keep his dying wish.
So, this was the wrath he was referring to, I thought to myself. It wasn’t a very pleasant feeling.
And the moment I felt it was the very moment I wanted to find a way to release it. And truth be told, it
seemed like violence was the only path to get rid of it. Maybe now I could put the feelings to rest, but
would I be able to for the rest of my existence? Only infinite time would tell.

***

I returned to Mount Olympus a few days after Kidalionas had passed. There was no longer anything
keeping me on the island of Lemnos. Now that I was able to return to Mount Olympus with my ten-
year curfew that Hera had demanded being up, this was the only move I could make that I saw as a
reasonable one.
It was time to avoid the inevitable. I was technically the son of the Queen of the Gods. It was my
birthright to accede to the throne as one of the Olympian Gods. Maybe then I could establish some
sense of power so that I could have my own palace and create a blacksmith workspace within its
confines. It would be a place where Hera was unwelcomed. Preferably, no one would come to visit
me. In spending time with just Kidalionas on Lemnos, I learned to live alone, and I honestly preferred
that compared to having to socialize while trying to understand others and whether I could trust any
single one of them. My trust would have to be earned. It was not a given.
As I emerged into the city, I noticed it seemed desolate. The noise of the sandals clacking against
limestones and marble pathways was absent. This was beyond unusual. However, I paid no mind to
it. The only place I rationalized that I needed to go to was Zeus’s palace to inform the king and queen
of my arrival and my plan to remain a permanent resident here on Mount Olympus.
I limped my way to their abode and struggled to make my way up their gargantuan marble staircase
to the tall entrance doors of their palace. Two of their stationed guards simply nodded at me and
opened it. The place had not changed one bit. Everything was pristine white and glossed. I was able
to hear a clamor of commotion in the distance of the palace. Therefore, I made my way towards the
source of the sounds.
Eventually, I arrived at the dining hall doors. I opened the doors barely ajar to get a peek into the
room. There was a lively crowd of gods and goddesses feasting on the ambrosia and wine of
Dionysus. They were engaged in laughter and what seemed like joyous conversation. Seeing others in
such good spirits only lifted mine up as well. It gave me even more confidence to enter the dining
hall.
Everyone was so wrapped up in their own discussions and food and drinks that they failed to
acknowledge my presence. I was able to recognize Hera and Zeus at the very central table of the
room, drinking from golden bejeweled goblets. I passed some of the tables, weaving my way between
some of the occupants. But soon, I found my leg was tremoring and beginning to give out. I fell right to
the ground with a loud thud.
The moment I stumbled and crashed to the floor, a hush fell over the room as everyone’s attention
began to focus on me. I struggled to stand and regain my balance. Once I stood, I saw everyone’s eyes
locked in with mine. A look of shock was expressed on each and every single one of their faces.
Some of them held their hands over their mouths to utter an unmistaken gasp of horror if I ever heard
one.
Hera abruptly stood up from her chair. “H-Hephaestus!? Is that you!?”
“Yes. It’s me. I have returned,” I declared.
The other gods and goddesses then began to immediately whisper to one another. Hera turned her
fixated gaze from me to catch wind of the gossip now occurring throughout the room. Her face, that
was full of shock, instantly turned into an expression of scorn. She rose from her seat and approached
me.
The silence that lingered in the room remained in effect. Hera did her best to keep her composure
as she leaned over to intimately whisper in my ear. “I thought I told you not to return until you became
more handsome.”
“No,” I corrected her, not bothering to keep my voice down so that our verbal exchange was
private. “You told me to remain on Lemnos for ten years until I could come back here.”
Everyone’s eyes widened and bulged in the room, stunned that I had gone against the Queen of the
Gods and disrespected her in such a way by stating that she was wrong.
“That is not what I said, you hideous liar! How dare you defy me!?” she screeched so that her
entire audience could hear her. “I’ll teach you a lesson for such disobedience!”
 “But I’m not lying. You’re the liar!” I seethed back.
“That’s it! We’re done here!” Hera shouted, lunging at me.
Just as she did ten years ago, she reached for my elbow and pulled me along, out of the dining hall.
She must have cast some spell on me, for I grew weak and limber, unable to fight off her tug against
my arm. The other gods and goddesses followed behind us with great intrigue, wondering what was
happening.
Before I knew it, we were passing the long halls, heading outside with Hera shouting obscenities in
my ringing ears. She continued to drag me to the very edge of a cliff that overlooked the world below.
We then paused at the ledge.
Hera spun around to see the other gods and goddesses had caught up to us and were bearing
witness to this intense scene. “I want this to be a lesson to everyone! Not just Hephaestus!“ she
shouted to the crowd. “This is what happens when you provoke the Queen of the Gods!”
She then turned back around to face me. “I told you not to return to Mount Olympus until you
became more handsome. You are still as hideous as the day I gave birth to you, and I warned you that
Mount Olympus is not a place for monsters like you!”
Hera reached her hand beneath my armpit and held my back in her palm firmly. Then she did the
unthinkable. She propelled me forward, throwing me off the cliff. I flew in the air and then fell,
descending off Mount Olympus.
It wasn’t until I crashed down into the land below that I felt scorching pain rip through my entire
body. The pain was so intolerable, I found myself instantly fading to blackness.
 Chapter 3

Arrogant
Prideful
Conceded
Selfish
Vengeful
Licentious
These are words that describe all the Olympian Gods. Except for me, that is. I vowed to never be
as cruel as Zeus, his wife, and all of their selfish children. If Zeus’s or Hera’s blood flowed through
your veins, you were destined to be wicked.
I never really fit in with the rest of them. If anything, I preferred mortals to the gods and goddesses.
Humans, for the most part, have empathy, care for one another and, above all things, can be
completely unselfish, at least more so than the Olympians. I grew to love and value the relationships
that mortals had with one another, especially the love that existed between those of the same family—
those that share the same blood. There’s something to be said about the bond between a mother and
her son, or the protection a father has for his daughter. Not to mention the camaraderie and
companionship that is so tangible between two siblings. My passion for family is what ultimately led
me to becoming the God of the hearth, family, and the home.
At first, I had harnessed the power of fire, but being a God of fire had no meaning for me. Once
Zeus bestowed me with my wish to be the God of all things domestic, I knew I had found my calling.
For the most part, I resided on Mount Olympus in my own palace. It was much humble compared to
the homes of Zeus, Hera, Aphrodite, and Ares to name a few of the gods with such ostentatious tastes.
 I preferred to live my existence in peace and kept to myself as much as I often could. At least once
a day, a servant of mine would inform me of gossip and the ramblings of other gods. There was
always some form of drama, or two gods or goddesses were constantly at odds over the most
ridiculous of things. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at every situation that was described to me.
I was just relieved that I had no issues with anyone. I was not as beautiful as Aphrodite, nor as
strong as Ares. Because I was never a threat to any of the gods, they let me be, for most of the time,
keeping an amicable relationship with me.
One would think that me being not as handsome as most of the other gods would mean that I was
rarely the object of someone’s affection on Mount Olympus. However, that was not the case at all. Far
from it.
But this was attention I wanted nothing to do with. At first, it was Poseidon who came on to me,
offering lavish gifts and intimate promises, none of which thrilled me at all. He tempted me with
romantic underwater scenes and showed off hidden cities beneath the sea that no one had access to
but him and whoever he brought along. There was a time where he even attempted to force himself
upon me, but I managed to shove him off and flee, threatening to inform Zeus of his actions if he ever
tried anything like that on me again.
Then came Apollo’s advances towards me. His were much more tamed than Poseidon’s, but
Apollo was mysterious in his approaches. At first, he tried to befriend me, which I found to be
genuinely authentic at first. We would spend hours in the fields with him playing on his lyre. He even
taught me how to use a bow and arrow. Things were progressing well in our friendship, that is, until
he tried to take our relationship to a different level that I was not comfortable with.
He pressed his lips against mine with which I must admit, I accepted and melted into against my
better judgment. As his hands caressed my thigh and moved upward, I regained my better senses and
pushed him away. Instantly, my intuition kicked in and I knew this was his plan all along, to try and
make me swoon. He only built a foundational friendship in the hopes of bedding me. Apollo was
sneaky in that regard. Even after I shunned him, he kept trying to come around to explain why we
should make love. But I wasn’t having any of it. Eventually, Apollo finally gave up on the hunt
altogether, much to my relief. Although, it left me wondering how often Apollo’s prey were able to
escape from his skilled archery. I was left suspecting many fell victim to his charm, but this certain
prey would not succumb to his alluring, yet devious temptations.
Apollo’s situation left me worried about others who would resort to even far more abhorrent
tactics to get their way. I soon became skeptical of all the gods and wondered what their intents with
me were after these past disgraceful occurrences with Poseidon and Apollo. Who was next in trying
to have sexual relations with me? And what if they were even more forceful in their resolve than the
other two were? I could not risk that ever happening.
Therefore, there was only one option for me to take to ensure that would never occur. There was
only one person who was powerful enough to make a decree that everyone would have to abide by
and that was the King of the Gods himself, Zeus. I ventured to his palace, demanding his servant boys
allow me to have a private audience with him at his earliest convenience. Luckily, I had to wait only
a few days before that moment arrived.
I met him in his throne room, privately, when the day came. He sat on his gargantuan throne. The
seat beside him was empty, meaning Hera had other matters to attend to, which I had no complaints
about.
“I have, what I hope to be, a simple request for you,” I firmly spoke to him.
He rubbed the thick white beard on his chin with interest. “Go on,” he replied.
“I would like an additional title, beyond being known as just a God of fire,” I began to explain.
“Oh? Fire isn’t enough for you?” Zeus arched his brow with skepticism.
“No. It’s nothing like that. I am grateful. But I just feel a stronger connection to something more,” I
elaborated.
“And what would that be?”
“Mortal families and the bond they share. There’s something about a family huddling together to
keep warm by a fire in the home that speaks to me.”
“So, you want to be a God of families and the hearth?” Zeus said, filling in the missing pieces.
“Precisely. But there is one additional title I seek, as well.”
“Name it. It has been quite some time since you came asking a favor of me. So, I think I owe it to
you, based on the number of gifts I have bestowed on other gods and goddesses,” Zeus said, to
alleviate any worry I had about him rejecting my proposal.
“Virginity. I want to be a God of virginity. I wish for no other god or goddess to approach me for
love, lust or anything of the kind,” I stated.
Zeus shrugged. “I’m not sure why a god would ever desire to remain a virgin for eternity, but it is
not for me to think and dwell on. If that is what you want, then you can have it. From now on, Hestio,
you will hereby be known as the God of fire, virginity, families, and the hearth.”
“Thank you!” I enthusiastically replied.
 And now I could continue to live harmoniously on Mount Olympus, without having to worry about
another god or goddess ever bothering me again.

***

My existence proved to be peaceful from then on out, that is, until, one day when Hera and Zeus
decided to throw one of their many feasts for the rest of Mount Olympus. I’ve seen my fair share of
atrocities among my counterpart gods and goddesses, but never did I think I would see something so
cruel as what Hera did on that very day to her own son, Hephaestus.
I was well aware of the strong brute’s presence before he took a tumble to the floor, causing a
major disruption to the entire dining hall. There was something endearing about him as he furtively
entered the room. You could tell he was not like most of the other male gods. Hephaestus was timid
and ambled softly, which was quite the juxtapose to how huge and muscular he was.
Even with his staggering limp, he held a confidence about him that was to be admired. I studied
him closely as he made his way towards Hera and Zeus, before he lost his balance, causing everyone
else’s attention to avert towards him. I didn’t know what to expect from the sudden commotion and
disturbance he made, but never did I imagine his own mother would stride over and get in a verbal
argument with him during this grandiose event.
Then she did the unthinkable in grabbing him by the arm as if he were a child being reprimanded.
Hera caused quite an uproar as she shouted at him, dragging him out of the palace. Everyone trailed
behind them in pursuit, wondering what the aftermath of her wrath would look like. Eventually, she
led us all to the edge of the cliff, just outside her palace walls.
Hera spun around to face her newfound crowd, while still firmly gripping her son. “I want this to
be a lesson to everyone! Not just Hephaestus!” she called to us gods and goddesses. “This is what
happens when you provoke the Queen of the Gods!”
Then she turned to face her son to address him. “I told you not to return to Mount Olympus until you
became more handsome. You are still as hideous as the day I gave birth to you, and I warned you that
Mount Olympus is not a place for monsters like you!”
Before I could even process all that she was saying, my eyes widened with great alarm as I saw
her reach for Hephaestus’s back. No. She would not dare, I thought to myself. But my fears came true,
as I watched her fling him over the edge. I reached my hand out, wishing to stop the whole thing, but I
realized I couldn’t make a fuss. No matter how ghastly the scene was, contradicting Hera would do no
one any good. If anything, she would toss the rest of us off the cliff with her son.
 I had to bite my tongue and maintain my reservation. Once Hera was done with the deed, she about-
faced and returned to the palace. No god or goddess made a single remark about what they just
witnessed. Each kept silent as they followed their queen back into her palace, returning to their
festivities as if nothing appalling had just happened. But I could not partake in continuing to eat
ambrosia and drink Dionysus’s wine with the rest of them. No. How could I after what I had just
seen? Once everyone had returned into Hera and Zeus’s dining hall, I made a quick getaway, fleeing
the palace, hoping my sudden absence would go unnoticed.
My mind was completely consumed with Hephaestus and what befell him. I had to go down to the
surface and make sure he wasn’t badly injured, although I suspected that my concerns would be true.
No one, not even a god, could come out of such a fall unscathed.
I couldn’t fathom how a mother could treat her son in such a way, even if she thought he was
unremarkable as a god. What kind of queen was she in committing such a detestable act? I felt
ashamed by even being associated with her. After all, I was the God of family and valued the love
shared between a mother and her son. But there was no love shared between Hera and Hephaestus,
which was disappointing. I loathed the very thought of it.
As I traveled among the areas I presumed Hephaestus could have landed, it took me nearly a full
day to finally locate his exact whereabouts. He turned up on a wet and sandy basin at the edge of a
river. His back was submerged in the shallow water as he laid down, facing upward with his eyes
closed. His chest greatly rose and deeply fell as he breathed.
I placed my hands over my mouth, stunned by the wounds and damage I saw on his body. The god
was comatose and would likely be for many weeks, months, or even years for the injuries he had
sustained. I couldn’t imagine the pain he had endured from such a fall. It was difficult to even think
about. But I could not let my sorrow and empathy get the better of me. I came down here on a mission,
and now, more than ever, I needed to get my wits about me and assist Hephaestus in coming to.
I approached the massive god and kneeled down on my knees beside him, letting the chill of the
river water spread throughout my entire body, but only briefly. Being the God of fire, even the coldest
of conditions barely had a lasting impact on me.
I firmly placed my hands over his bare chest. The lacerations across his torso were great in
number. His muscles roared with every breath he took. I could not help but marvel at how built he
was, but quickly dissipated the thought from my mind altogether.
Once my hands were flat, with my fingers spread wide against him, I closed my eyes, attempting to
concentrate all my powers there. I could feel the heat rise from every corner of my body and flow to
my fingertips and into Hephaestus. The energy was so intense, I could practically feel the flames
being emitted from my entire body.
I was barely able to open my eyes to see the red glow on my hands that transferred into him. Soon,
Hephaestus had a crimson brilliance that radiated from him. I was becoming drained, but I had to
continue to tolerate the agony I was putting myself through. It was the only way I knew that could help
to restore and wake him.
As I realized his full body was engulfed by my fiery aura, I slowly relaxed my grip on his round
chest, letting the flames extinguish from his skin. Hopefully, I had put enough warmth and energy into
his godly body to allow him to come out of his coma.
Before I could remove every aspect of the fire from him, I could already feel Hephaestus’s body
stir beneath me. It had worked! I thought to myself, elated that I was able to give him the strength to
become mobile. Little did I realize just how well my powers had performed, for I could see the
blacksmith god begin to open his eyes.
But I couldn’t allow him to see me. I did not want him or anyone else to know of the deed I had
done. If word got back to Hera about this, surely, I would face dire consequences for not being
obsequious to her wishes and demands. Yet I still had to remove every trace of fire from Hephaestus.
There was a risk I was posing by having any bit of my powers still lingering within him.
I could then see Hephaestus’s lips begin to quiver, as he squinted, attempting to regain his vision
and recognize me. “Y-You’re… H-Hestio, are you not?”
“Shhhh,” I whispered back to him, hoping he would just return to closing his eyes and would
somehow forget all of this, although I had a feeling that would not be the outcome at all.
Then, to make matters worse, I could hear voices chattering from up the river nearby. I could sense
that they were approaching, coming closer and closer to us. I continued to rush to restore and extricate
the power of fire back into me from Hephaestus, but I was cutting it very close with the timing.
I could not risk the source of the voices to bear witness to me and what I was doing. No one was
allowed to know of this transgression of mine, even if it was meant to rescue a fallen Olympian God.
Now, I was put into the ultimate dilemma. Should I continue to extract the flames from Hephaestus
and allow those who were passing by to see me? Or, instead, should I immediately disappear and
allow traces of my powers of fire to remain in Hephaestus? The result of such an action was unknown
and potentially precarious.
I let out a deep grunt, followed by a sigh, having hastily made up my mind. I removed my hands
from his body before the red aura around Hephaestus had completely disappeared. I vanished just in
time, before the two people who were talking emerged and, soon enough, gasped at the sight of
Hephaestus. I watched from afar as the two figures huddled around him and soon tried their best to
prop him up. At least they were attempting to further help him.
Realizing he was now in proper hands, there was nothing else for me to do. I fled, making my way
back to Mount Olympus. I was sure Hephaestus would have a speedy recovery, thanks to my aid.
However, my conscience was not fully relieved. There was a lingering issue that still presented itself
that had me worried. What would be the effect of the hint of my power that I left within Hephaestus? I
hadn’t the slightest clue. All I could do was hope that it would somehow do more good than harm.
 Chapter 4

he pressure from the air pummeled against my massive body. The wind relentlessly struck my
T face, leaving a burning sensation, as if it possessed flames that were grazing me as I fell from
the sky. Once Hera tossed me high from Mount Olympus, I was free-falling, with nothing but all the
time in the world to think, before I went crashing into the ground below.
I had to reflect on my decision to return to Mount Olympus. I began to realize it was a foolish thing
to do. Why would I even desire to go back to the place where I felt so unwelcomed to begin with? I
had nothing but the most horrid of memories when I was younger, living in Hera and Zeus’s palace,
constantly being tormented by the Queen of the Gods, enduring her rancorous spite.
It was made perfectly clear that I was unwanted by Hera, which was why she dragged me to
Lemnos so that Kidalionas could watch over me for ten whole years. Even after I had ten years to
build my hate and animosity towards Hera, I still felt the need to want to return to her. What irrational
logic.
Was I a glutton for punishment? I should have been able to recognize how she would have reacted
upon my arrival back to Mount Olympus. But never could I have predicted that Hera would actually
throw me from the heavens and back down to the surface. I had underestimated the enmity she held in
her heart for me.
But what did that say about me? How could I have even thought that I would be so easily
welcomed back to the land of the Gods after being exiled from there all those years ago? Did I
honestly think barging into the dining hall unannounced would do me any good? Did I expect Hera to
put on a warm smile and force the other gods and goddesses who were present to raise their goblets
full of wine and toast to me? The absurdity of it all.
 Yet, I can remember the warmth I felt in the deepest pits of my body when I did enter Zeus’s palace.
Just to be among the other gods and goddesses, my kindred, gave me such joy. I’ve only ever wanted
to be accepted by them. Not even all of them, for that matter. If just one of them stood up for me and
made me feel accepted, that’s all I could ask for.
However, Hera instantly put a stop to it. She made her sentiments known, and I doubted any god or
goddess would go against her wishes, in fear of the wrath she would invoke upon them for their
disobedience. Therefore, I wondered now if I would ever be well-received by any of the gods of
Mount Olympus.
But that was beside the point now. Hera made it quite evident that I would never be allowed to step
foot on Mount Olympus ever again. I was banished for eternity. And now, depending on where I
landed from this fall, I would have to find a way to live on the surface. That should be the least of my
worries though because the question remained as to whether or not I would even survive this great
plunge altogether.

***

How long was I unconscious for? I hadn’t the slightest clue. All I could see was my vision slightly
coming to. My head felt foggy, and my entire body was in intense pain. It felt as though an entire army
had pierced me with a thousand swords in every crevice of my skin. I could make out Apollo’s
glimmering sun, obscuring my sight. But there was a darker image present too. As my vision
continued to become clearer, I was able to make out that it was a figure. Soon enough, I felt an
immense heat overcome my body. Whoever was hovering over me was propelling this warmth into
my chest. Instantly, I could begin to feel my body recovering from the sustained injuries. This torrid
panacea was invigorating.
But as my inflictions were becoming more tolerable, the fire that now lingered within was burning
more than ever. I could feel the magnitude of the scorching flames that were inside me. As I continued
to study the person responsible for all of this, my focus soon came to.
I recognized that hair, the glow about this man, or god, rather. The embers bounced off his
handsome cheeks. His soft crimson eyes watched me with intent.
“Y-You’re… H-Hestio, are you not?” I uttered.
“Shhhh,” he softly whispered in response to me.
I could suddenly feel the burn within me begin to subside. My thoughts were able to gather
themselves. Hestio had come down to the surface to help me. He wanted to awaken me and fix my
wounds, to alleviate my suffering. But why? This was an extravagant risk he was taking. And at what
cost?
I laid still, just allowing him to do his work to aid me. But before I could feel the fire within me
fully retract, Hestio was running off.
“Wait…” I weakly called out to him, but to no avail. He was long gone and had fled off into the
distance.
“Ugh!” I grunted, feeling the sharp tightness in my chest. I moved my large hand over to hold it. The
blaze still lingered, causing a newfound pain I was experiencing, but at least it was more bearable
than the torment I felt as a result of the wounds from the fall.
I clenched my chest muscles tightly, wanting to squeeze my own heart, as if a possible resolution
was to rip it out of my chest to remove the incinerating agony I felt.
Although I knew this wasn’t an option, my not yet lucid mind was contemplating the very idea of it.
But before I could rationalize my thoughts, a set of voices and gasps distracted me from thinking about
the fire scorching inside me.
“Oh my gods! Are you okay!?” one of the females shouted, sprinting over to kneel beside me.
The other followed right behind her, lightly pressing her palms into a deep laceration on my torso.
“Argh!” I grunted out in pain, causing her to retract her hands from touching any part of me.
“Can you stand?” one of them asked. But I could no longer even speak. The words I wanted to say
were unable to be communicated out of my mouth.
The two women just stared at each other in horror with bewilderment.
“Should we bring him back to the grotto?” one of them suggested.
“I don’t think we really have a choice. We cannot just leave him here unattended. What if a wild
boar or some other vicious beast comes and attacks him? He wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Then it’s settled. Come. Help me prop him up.”
Before I knew it, the women were hoisting me off the ground. Each of them took one of my
enormous arms and wrapped it around their bodies. My armpits nearly spanned their entire backs as
they held me up, slowly escorting me to their desired destination.
I did my best to not drag my feet into the dirt ground and cause more resistance to them. I was
stunned they even had the strength to be able to keep me standing, let alone lug me forward.
As they dragged me onward, they carried on in conversation, glancing at one another while I
remained silent between them. “Who is he? I’m certain I’ve never seen him around these parts
before.”
 “He is colossal!” one of the women exclaimed. “I’ve never seen a warrior or a king the size of
him. He cannot be human.”
“So, you think he is a god, then?”
“What other explanation is there? No mortal has the girth this man has.”
“If he is a god, then why is he here? Who could have caused this damage to him?”
“I’m not sure. But if we want to find out the answers, we need to hear them from him. Let us take
him to bed, get him some food and rest, and hopefully he will be able to recover and explain the
reasoning behind his presence here.”
“I suppose that is the only thing we can do. After all, if he really is a god, just as we suspect, it’s
our sworn duty to care for him until he becomes stable once again.”
“Precisely.”
I could only partially make out every other word the women were saying next to me. I found myself
dosing in and out of consciousness. Luckily, in a matter of minutes, I could feel myself being lowered
onto a soft surface, with my head being pressed against an equally delicate set of fabrics. Instantly, I
felt myself able to relax more, trying my best to ignore the burning sensation that I still felt lingering
within me.

***

Finally, I was able to turn over and shut my eyes once more, drifting off into a peaceful slumber. If
only this peace were indefinite.
The next time I awoke, I was completely coherent and aware of my surroundings. Nothing was hazy
or obscure. I rose out of the bed I was in, but did so too quickly, through which I felt a rush of pain hit
my head. I placed my hand towards the root of the ache and rubbed it, hoping that would be enough
for it to subside. At least it wasn’t as horrible as it was when I first fell to the ground.
I noticed the heat in my chest had since diminished into a slight trace of warmth that didn’t bother
me so much. Still, there was a bit of discomfort that prompted me to rub my hand in circles across my
torso, hoping that would somehow soothe it.
As I began to get myself together, I became aware of my new surroundings. I was in some sort of
sapphire underwater-looking cave. The ripples of the water reflected off the glistening blue ground
and walls that were made of the finest cerulean gems of apatite and larimar by the looks of it.
How in the Underworld did I manage to get here? I thought to myself.
 But the answer would soon be apparent when I saw two women with aquamarine skin-tones
approach me. They must have been the two that carried me to this grotto from where I had fallen.
Their hair was blonde but with the ever-slightest tone of the saltine sea. One looked to be a bit older
than the other. Instantly, I knew I was among the sea-nymphs, somewhere in their abode within the
ocean.
“Thank the gods you are awake!” the older nymph spoke.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“This is the grotto of Oceanus,” the younger one informed me. “We found you injured by Oceanus’s
stream. We are his sea-nymphs. I am Thetis,” she said before then pointing towards the other woman.
“And this is Eurynome. Seeing as you could not manage on your own, we brought you here to aid in
your recovery.”
“Thetis and Eurynome?” I repeated back to them, not recalling hearing of their names before.
“Yes, and who might you be?” Eurynome eagerly inquired. “Clearly, you are not of this world. No
mortal could have endured the injuries you’ve sustained and live to tell the tale. Are you a god?”
I nodded. “Yes. I had fallen from Mount Olympus,” I simply stated, not wanting to give these two
sea-nymphs any detail of my relationship to Hera, and all that had happened leading up to this point.
Who knows where their allegiance lied? I could not quite entrust them just yet with this information. If
I did tell them of my disdain for Hera and they went back to tell her of how I was spreading my hatred
for her among the surface of the mortals, the Queen of the Gods could punish me further for my lack of
deference.
“So, you are a god, then. Tell me of what powers you possess…” Thetis trailed off, wanting to
address me by my name, realizing she hadn’t learned it yet.
“Hephaestus,” I added, to finish her sentence.
“Hephaestus,” she repeated back. “I have heard of you before. The crippled son of Hera, who she
banished from Mount Olympus. You are a God of blacksmithing, no? Tales have been told of the
miraculous weapons you have created for kings, gods, and the greatest of warriors.”
I was stunned that she knew of all this. I had no idea how well-known I already was in the world.
Little did I realize that mortals quickly spread news of the ongoings of the gods to one another, the
second they heard a story about us.
“Yes. I am a blacksmith,” I confirmed.
“Well, I would love to see your talents in action,” Eurynome piped up. “It’s not every day that we
get to see a god at work. But you are in no condition to do anything of the sort until your wounds heal.
I doubt you could even lift a tool.”
She was right. Even I knew my capabilities were limited. My body still ached. My mind was
slightly fuzzy from the impact of the fall. I needed much rest before I could even think of using a
hammer and iron tongs.
“But being a talented blacksmith cannot be your only power,” Thetis stated, before stepping
forward to cup my shoulder with her delicate hand. “When we brought you back here, we could feel
the intensity of the heat radiating off of your skin.”
“Flames stir within you,” Eurynome echoed. “You must possess an ability to control fire.”
Something in me swelled as they mentioned this. There was some truth to this. Ever since waking
up from the fall, my body has not felt the same. At first, I blamed it on the damage done from crashing
down into the ground, but now, I’m beginning to realize it’s quite a different sort of feeling altogether.
The burning in my chest had not yet subsided. If anything, I was growing all the more used to it. Did
something happen to me during the fall? Was it Hestio, the actual God of fire? Did Hestio somehow
grant me the power of fire when trying to help me recover? It was the only logical explanation I could
come up with.
“If I do, I have not mastered how to use fire,” I honestly said to the sea-nymphs.
“Ah. Well, we can perhaps assist you in harnessing your powers, God,” Thetis confidently stated.
“Although we are one with Oceanus, we can still be of great use to you.”
“Here, hold up your arm,” Eurynome instructed as she came up beside me and used both of her
hands to help lift my massive arm up. “Raise out your palm,” to which I did. “Now, close your eyes
and concentrate. Think of something soothing, a serene thought that will relax you. Having a cleansed
mind is the key for a god to use their powers,” she further elaborated.
I tried multiple times to focus, but to no avail. How could I possibly do so when so much has
happened recently? Kidalionas’s death, the rage and contempt Hera had for me and her acting on
them. I had so much shame because of my weak leg and what the other gods viewed of my deformity.
Questions still lingered about Hestio’s involvement in helping me. Plus, the biggest mystery was what
to do now. I’ve been exiled from Mount Olympus. What are my next steps?
My thoughts grew into a confounding bitterness and soon a fury swept through me. I could feel the
intensity of the flames in my body begin to grow. They scorched inside me with such ferocity. And
suddenly, I opened my eyes to see a deep crimson aura around my hand. A red light emitted from it, as
I aimed my palm to face a large boulder within the grotto.
 Bright flames released from my body and engulfed the entire boulder. The fire was ablaze,
disintegrating the boulder into ash. Once the boulder was no more, the flames died down into traces
of ember.
The sea-nymphs’ eyes widened, with great alarm at what they had just bore witness to. Even I was
just as shocked as they were by what I had just done.
“You are a quick learner,” Eurynome stated to diffuse the silence that lingered.
As delighted as I was at discovering my newfound talent, I felt a sudden fatigue wash over me. My
limbs became weak, barely allowing me to stand up. My energy was diminishing at a rapid rate.
Thetis must have sensed the drain written in the expression on my face, for she expeditiously came
to my aid. “Here, it looks like you need to lie down,” she said aloud, prompting Eurynome and her to
help keep me up, leading me back into the bed.
“I’m not sure what’s come over me,” I barely managed to get out in between heavy breaths.
“You have worn yourself out,” Eurynome answered. “Maybe it’s not wise to push you to your
limits. You still need to rest.”
I nodded as I placed my head back down, reclining with the rest of my body.
“I think it’s best if you lived here with us for the time being,” Thetis recommended. “At least until
your wounds are fully healed.” She glanced over to Eurynome as if to gauge her reaction and opinion
on the suggestion.
“Yes. I agree. It only makes sense,” Eurynome replied.
I tried to sit up out of bed to object, but felt a wave of dizziness take over, prompting me to lie back
down and merely speak.
“I can’t…” I simply answered.
“But where would you go?” Thetis then inquired. “Clearly, Hera has banished you from Mount
Olympus a second time. Is that not the reason you are here today? Did she have you thrown from the
heavens, down here to the surface?”
“How did you know?” I asked, while also confirming her suspicions to be true.
“It’s not difficult to figure out. Hera clearly despises you. There is no other logical explanation for
a god to have fallen from Mount Olympus unless they were purposefully tossed from the sky. Who
else would have the power to push you from the heavens beside Hera or Zeus?” Thetis further
questioned.
“You are very astute,” I complimented Thetis with.
 “Which is why Eurynome and I should be the ones to look after you. Returning to Mount Olympus
does not seem like an option for you. It could be years before you are allowed to step foot in the land
of the gods ever again.”
“I know, but…” I began to argue but was immediately cut off again by Thetis.
“Plus, we can protect you. No one needs to know of your presence here,” she added. “I know of a
nearby volcanic cave where it’s warm. You can reside and work there as a blacksmith in peace.”
“Yes. It would be foolish to expose yourself to other mortals, Hephaestus. If people realize a god
walks among them, who knows what evil deeds they would resort to? For your own safety, you
should lie low. Only trust Thetis and myself. We have your best interest at heart,” Eurynome reasoned
aloud.
I could sense the genuineness pouring out from these two sea-nymphs. They were the ones who
rescued and brought me to this underwater, sapphire cavern. They helped me rest and recover. So far,
they have done nothing to make me skeptical and doubtful of their intentions. Furthermore, I was in no
condition to leave on my own accord and roam the surface.
“Very well. But once I am fully healed, I will reconsider…” I said, leaving my options open. They
both nodded upon my spoken terms.
“Now, get some rest,” Thetis advised. “If you are more stable in a few days, we will show you the
empty volcanic cave we know of that you can utilize for your own purposes.”
“Take care,” Eurynome added, before they both left me in privacy.
“Thank you,” I replied to them as they departed.
Now that I had time to myself, I could close my eyes and reflect on all that transpired. I thought of
Hestio and his graciousness. I thought of Thetis and Eurynome and their kind services they’ve
provided me with so far and will continue to provide.
Then, my mind drifted to my new power of being able to control fire. It felt thrilling to know I
possessed a greater power beyond blacksmithing. I recalled Eurynome’s guidance when learning to
harness my power.
Now, close your eyes and concentrate. Think of something soothing, a serene thought that will
relax you. Having a cleansed mind is the key for a god to use their powers, she had said.
But the truth was, when I was able to send flames forward to cause the boulder to wither to ash, I
was not thinking about anything that was calming or tranquil. I distinctly remember my mind being
engrossed with thoughts of Hera at the time and all that she had done to me. It was the resentment and
vengeance I had for her that were the culminating feelings that led to the fire being thrusted out of my
palm.
Maybe Eurynome had it completely wrong. Perhaps it wasn’t a clear mind that would allow my
powers to flourish. Based on the evidence, it was a mind filled with revulsion that allowed me to
thrive in controlling fire. For now, I would continue to resort to my displeasure for the Queen of the
Gods to make me all the more powerful.
 Chapter 5

spent nearly a year living under the care of Thetis and Eurynome. They cooked for me, concocting
I remedies full of plants and herbs with healing elements. In a matter of a year, I was nearly fully
recovered. All the lacerations on my body closed over time, leaving branded scars in so many places
over my skin. I no longer felt any of the wounds and bruises that have tormented me for weeks on end
after my fall from Mount Olympus. The only disfigurement that remained was the limp in my leg still,
but I had come to terms with the fact that that would never go away for as long as I existed.
The three of us could talk for hours, gossiping over the stories shared about what new dramas were
unfolding from the gods and goddesses of Mount Olympus. Some of our conversations also turned
solemn, discussing tensions that were growing among certain nations and later wars that would
inevitably follow because of those tensions and lack of resolutions. But such things were out of our
control to even be involved in. So, we spoke on these matters tritely, knowing our opinions bore no
impact on these events.
When I wasn’t spending time with Thetis and Eurynome in Oceanus’s grotto, I was blacksmithing
within a large set of caverns in the nearby volcanic cave. I had made a residence here and was able to
craft my tools and build a forge to work on, designing my weapons and other resources.
Once word got out that the God of blacksmithing was engrossed in his craft again, requests came in
great number. More kings and warriors begged for the finest swords and shields. Even other gods,
likely going against the will of Hera, furtively reached out, wanting me to create magnificent things
for them.
As I worked endless days and weeks crafting these weapons, I had to resort to building fires within
the forge from hand. No matter how much I tried to emit fire from my own hands, just as I had the first
time I learned I possessed the power of fire, I was never able to do it again. It was an odd feeling to
realize you held a power but could never figure out how to harness it. At times, I felt weak and
frustrated with myself. But eventually, I learned to accept my inability to produce flames and had no
choice but to create fire on my own. Over time, I managed to get over my vexation and allowed the
time I spent blacksmithing to take control and be the key thing that occupied my mind for months to
come.
One day, while I had spent grueling hours in my cave, diligently creating a spear that was made of
the finest oak wood, gold, and titanium for Athena, Thetis had approached from behind me.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Hephaestus,” she softly spoke to not startle me as she crept up from
behind.
“Oh, you’re not bothering me at all. I could use a break anyway,” I said to alleviate any worry she
may have had on imposing. “What can I assist you with?”
She paced around the cave, studying all the weapons I had on display, marveling at each and every
single one of them. “You know. The Fates have prophesied that I will one day have a son, who will
be a formidable warrior,” Thetis shared.
“Well, that must be satisfying for you to hear a fortune such as that,” I commented.
“Yes. But they have given me no notion of a timeline. It could be years, even decades or centuries
from now, for when this son of mine could be born.”
“Was that the only information they were able to provide you, that you will have a son in the future
who will do well in battle?”
Thetis shook her head. “No. They said more, but I am not able to discuss the matter with anyone.
Not even you and Eurynome are allowed to know what they shared. It is my secret to bear, alone.”
“Well, I hope whatever additional things that they had to share were favorable.”
But Thetis’ expression on her face remained unchanged. She gave me little indication to tell if what
the Fates had told her was positive or dreadful. However, I knew it was best not to pry further about
it. If she was adamant about keeping the knowledge to herself, then I had no choice but to respect that
decision of hers.
After all, I had secrets of my own that I kept from the two ocean nymphs. For one, I did not explain
the history between Hera and me. They heard traveling rumors pass them by, so they had an idea of
the kind of relationship we had. However, never did I go into detail to discuss the cruel actions from
the Queen of the Gods to me. Furthermore, I never told Thetis and Eurynome about Hestio coming
down to the surface to help me overcome the coma I was in. There was no way I could risk anyone
knowing about Hestio’s involvement. I needed to protect him for all that he did for me.
 Thetis then turned her head to face me, no longer focused on the vast weapons that hung along the
walls of the cave. “Should the time come, I would hope to be able to seek you out and ask you to
make my son the most exquisite weapons and refined armor.”
I approached Thetis, placing my calloused hands on her smooth, silky shoulders, rubbing them in a
soothing manner. “Of course, I can do that whenever you need me to. You and Eurynome have done
everything to help me in my recovery. I view you both as mothers I’ve never had. Crafting weapons
for your future son is the least I can do.”
This caused Thetis to display a warm smile. “I appreciate that, Hephaestus. To know that my son
will be using weapons that were blessed by you will alleviate any worry I have as he goes into
battle.”
I wondered when exactly the time would come for me to grant Thetis’s request. But for now, I still
wanted to do something special for her, for maternally caring for me all these years. I let these
thoughts be known to her. “In the meantime, there must be something I can make for you. It would be
my pleasure to craft a fine piece of jewelry to show you my gratitude for all these years you have
looked after me.”
“Oh nonsense, Hephaestus,” she blushed at the thought. “You do not need to go out of your way to
make me anything. Really…”
But before Thetis could rationalize her thoughts, I interceded. “No. It’s no sort of burden
whatsoever. I truly want to do this. Give me the next few days to work out the details and I can
present you the gift soon.”
“Thank you. You know, you are so unlike the other gods and goddesses, in so many unique ways,”
she shared.
“I hope that is a good thing?” I questioned.
She nodded. “Very much so. Believe me.”

***

A few days later, my most dazzling creation was finalized. It was unlike any piece of jewelry that
exists in the world today. The fine necklace was made of the rarest silver. Small carvings and details
were etched out that made it flow like the waves of the ocean. Embedded in the silver were pockets
of sparkling sapphires of varying sizes, scattered throughout.
I scrutinized the work carefully, allowing the light from the molten lava in the volcano to cast a
reflection off the sapphires. They shined brightly, more so than any gem or piece of jewelry I have
witnessed in my existence. Now that I was fully satisfied with the final product, I was ready to
present it to Thetis.
I met her in the grotto one evening. It was a day before she was set to depart for Mount Olympus.
She, Eurynome and other sea nymphs were invited to attend a gathering in Zeus’s palace. Thetis also
informed me that the King of the Gods had private matters to discuss with her but left it at that. I was
extremely curious to know what business she had with the likes of Zeus himself, but she gave me no
hints of the reasoning behind their meeting.
“It’s finished,” I announced to her.
“What is?” she asked, with a puzzled expression written on her face.
“My gift that I want you to have.”
“Oh, Hephaestus!” Thetis gasped. “I told you that you did not have to make me anything,” she
reminded me.
“I know. But still, I wanted to. Here…” I said, holding out the silver and sapphire necklace to her.
“I would love for you to wear this.”
“You shouldn’t have! This is too much. It’s beyond gorgeous.”
“Would you like me to put it on you?” I asked.
“Yes. Please!”
I moved behind Thetis to delicately place the piece of jewelry around her neck before clipping the
backings of the necklace securely together to prevent it from falling off her.
“How does it look?” Thetis further inquired once I stepped away from her. She spun around to face
me to show it off.
“Glorious,” I murmured.
And it was truly radiant on her. The sapphires were of a darker blue hue, compared to the icy blue
tint of her skin. The glimmer from the gems lit up the entire walls of the grotto. Sparkles of blue
bounced in every which direction, mimicking the motion of the crashing waves of the sea onto the
shore. Thetis, too, glanced about in wonder, admiring the incandescent show the necklace was
performing.
“It really is wonderful, Hephaestus! I’ll always wear it on me. I cannot wait to show it off at the
dinner tomorrow on Mount Olympus.”
“I have no doubt some of the other goddesses in attendance will be jealous of you adorning it. I’m
sure they own nothing comparable to it.”
“I suspect that may be true,” she agreed. “Again, thank you for such an extravagant gift.”
 ***

It was only a day later that Thetis had ventured to Mount Olympus to attend the glorious feast for the
Oceanids and Nereids. Once she returned to the grotto, I quickly hobbled along from my cavern
within the confines of the volcano to greet her.
“Tell me,” I stated eagerly. “How was it? What did you think?”
“It was magnificent, as always,” Thetis stated. “But there’s something interesting that happened
which involved you.”
“Me?” I said with disbelief.
“Yes. During the feast, I was only expecting Zeus and not his wife, Hera, to attend. Sure enough,
she did show up, likely to keep an eye on the wandering eye of her husband around us nymphs, but
that’s beside that point.”
Now I was getting nervous. I wondered if Hera mentioned something about me to Thetis. What if
she learned of Thetis having raised me like her own son these past few years? I didn’t want Thetis to
be punished on my account. I hoped this wasn’t the case.
“And how did Hera act around you?”
“Well, each of us sea-nymphs were expected to bow when we were greeted by the King and Queen
of the Gods. Hera barely turned her head to face us, which is what I half-expected. Believe me, not
one person is unaware of Hera’s insolence. Anyway, I was quite stunned when she suddenly halted
before me and craned her neck to glare at me.”
“Oh no!” I exclaimed. I could only imagine what happened next. Over the years, I’ve learned it’s
better to be ignored by Hera than to gain her attention. “What happened next?”
Thetis then smirked, which I was not anticipating. “Hera bent over and reached down to hold the
sapphire necklace I had on in her hands. She closely examined it, before asking me where I acquired
such a gorgeous piece of jewelry.”
“Please… don’t tell me you told her I was the one who crafted it for you,” I begged aloud, but to no
avail. The occurrence already happened, and I knew it to be true. It was too late.
“Of course. I couldn’t just lie to her. I remarked on how your skills as a blacksmith have grown
over these years, better than anyone in the world. Also, I told her of the vast weapons you have
continued to make for the highest-ranking warriors and kings throughout the lands. I could tell she was
taken aback when I mentioned your name. At first, a look of horror was displayed on her face, but
then her expression tamed to her usual solemn look. She was so fascinated by the necklace and your
skills that she wanted me to reach out to you. She wants for you to return to Mount Olympus, so long
as you are able to continue crafting jewelry and weapons for the Gods and Goddesses of Mount
Olympus.”
Return to Mount Olympus!? I thought to myself. Why would I ever want to do that again?
What was the purpose? I was already exiled from there once. Wouldn’t it be foolish to want to go
back? Plus, now that I had that insufferable Hera out of my life, I wished to never see her again.
But at the same time, a part of me on the inside felt a sense of relief. A bit of excitement stirred
within me once again. I already felt wanted here on the surface, among mortals and demi-gods. To
now feel welcomed by the gods on Mount Olympus—there was such a great affinity there that I could
not ignore. Perhaps it was my natural calling in wanting to assume the throne and my right as a God of
Mount Olympus.
I felt torn in deciding on whether I actually wanted to return. What if Hera was, in fact, lying to
Thetis? What if this was just some sick plot or ruse to bring me back so that the Queen of the Gods
could further humiliate and injure me?
No. I couldn’t allow that to happen ever again. I felt stronger now, more than ever. I was coming
into my own as a god. If Hera was planning on deceiving and sabotaging me, I would just have to beat
her to the punch. Now, I just had to come up with a way to exact my revenge on her. If I were to reside
on Mount Olympus, she would have to pay for all that she did to me. I was steadfast in that decision.
But, if only I could figure out a way to improve my ability with the use of fire, I would feel even
more powerful. That was another looming factor I had yet to uncover, was how to use that power to
my advantage.
So many thoughts were swirling around my head now, I had to at least pin one down and that was
whether I should return to my birthplace. Maybe Thetis could help guide me into a decision I
wouldn’t regret. Her opinion mattered most to me.
“What do you think I should do?” I asked her.
“I think you know what you have to do, Hephaestus,” she stated, so matter-of-factly. Thetis
extended her arm to reach and grab my shoulder, firmly. “It’s time for you to return.”
“But what of Hera? Surely, she still hates me and wants nothing more than to find a way to ruin
me,” I expressed with concern.
“That’s where I think you are wrong. Once Hera told me of her wish for your return, I had a private
audience with Zeus, and told him of my concern on the matter. I requested that he control his wife to
make sure she no longer harms you. He gave me his word that she would no longer pose as a threat to
you.”
“You talked to Zeus about all this?” I questioned. “But how could he make you such a promise?”
Thetis cast me a grin. “Let’s just say that Zeus owed me a favor and so this was the favor I asked
of.”
She really was the mother I never had, constantly looking out for me. I grabbed Thetis and wrapped
my arms around her in a tight, warm embrace. She has done so much for me. I only wish there was so
much more I could do to repay her for her kindness and generosity over these years.
“Thank you, Thetis,” I simply said.
“Of course, Hephaestus. Now, let’s get you prepared to disembark to Mount Olympus,” she
enthusiastically declared. “When you arrive on Mount Olympus, you need to make your presence
known to Zeus and Hera,” she instructed.
“I am aware,” I informed her. “However, there is someone else I need to speak to first, before I
visit them.”
“And who might that be?” Thetis held a quizzical expression on her face.
“Someone who helped me, a while ago…”
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 We know some families where the girls and boys look so much
alike that we could guess they were brothers and sisters, even if we
did not know that they all lived in the one house and had the one
family name. If we look carefully at the plants we meet, at their
leaves and flowers and fruits, and even at their stems and roots,
often we may guess rightly which ones belong to the same family.
If we place side by side an apple blossom and a pear blossom, we
see that they are very like each other. Both have the green outside
cup which above is cut into five little green leaves. Both have five
white or pinkish flower leaves. Both have a good many pins with dust
boxes, and from two to five of those pins without dust boxes.
If we place side by side a pear and an apple, we see in both cases
that it is the green cup, grown big and juicy and ripe, which forms the
delicious fruit.
If we cut these two fruits open lengthwise, we can see just how the
pins without dust boxes are set into the green cup; and we can see
that the lower, united part of these pins makes a little box which
holds the seeds.
In the picture (Fig. 14) the shading shows you where this seedbox
ends, and the green cup, or what once was the green cup, begins.
This is rather hard to understand, I know; but your teacher can make
it clear to you with a real pear.
So it ought to surprise you no longer to learn that the apple and
the pear are cousins.
 Fig. 14

Now, I want you to look at the picture at the head of this chapter.
This is the wild rose, the flower from which the great Rose family
takes its name.
This rose is a much larger flower than either the apple or the pear
blossom. Its flower leaves are deep pink. These bright flower leaves
make gay handkerchiefs for signaling when the rose plant wishes to
attract the attention of the bees.
But there are five of them, just as there are in the apple and the
pear blossom; and there are the pins with dust boxes,—so many of
them, in the rose, that it would take some time to count them all. And
in the center are the pins which have seedboxes below; for these
pins in the rose are quite separate one from another, and each one
has its own little seedbox.

Fig. 15
 So, though different in some ways, in others the flower of the rose
is very much like those of the apple and the pear.
In this picture (Fig. 15) you see its fruit. This is called the “rose
hip.” When ripe, it turns bright red. In late summer you see the
rosebushes covered with these pretty hips. At times this fruit does
not look altogether unlike a tiny apple or pear; but if we cut it open
lengthwise, we see that its inside arrangements are quite different.

Fig. 16

The lower parts of the pins without dust boxes do not grow into
one piece with the green cup (now the red cup), as in the apple and
the pear. Instead, this cup (Fig. 16) is hollow. To its inner sides are
fastened the little seedboxes, as you will see if you look carefully at
the picture. This hollow case with its separate seedboxes shows you
that the rose plant is not so closely related to the pear and the apple
trees as these trees are to each other.
 UNEATABLE FRUITS

P ERHAPS one day you bit into the fruit of the rose, and found it
sour and unpleasant to the taste. You may have forgotten that
not long ago you learned a new meaning for the word “fruit.” Possibly
you still fancy that a fruit must be something good to eat. So many
people have this idea, that once more I wish to make clear to you
that the fruit is the seed-holding part of the plant.
Whether this part is good to eat or not, makes no difference as to
its being a fruit.
The apple is a fruit, you remember, not because it is good to eat,
but because it holds the seeds of the apple tree.
And for this same reason the pear is a fruit. It is the case in which
is laid the seedbox of the pear tree. This case, when ripe, happens
to be juicy and delicious; but it would be quite as much a fruit if it
were dry and hard, and without taste.
 And so the rose hip is a fruit, because it is the case which holds
the little seedboxes of the rose flower.
What is the fruit of the milkweed?
All country children know the milkweed plant, with its big bright
leaves, and bunches of pink or red or purple flowers (Fig. 17). And
you know the puffy pods that later split open, letting out a mass of
brown, silky-tailed seeds. There! I have given the answer to my own
question; for if the plant’s fruit is the seed-holding part, then the
milkweed’s fruit must be this pod stuffed full of beautiful, fairy-like
seeds.

Fig. 17

Fig. 18
 Then you know the burdock (Fig. 18) which grows along the
country road. But perhaps you do not know that the fruit of this is the
prickly burr which hooks itself to your clothes on your way to school.
This burr (Fig. 19) is the case which holds the little seeds of the
burdock, and so it must be its fruit.

Fig. 19

Fig. 20

The fruit of the dandelion is the silvery puffball (Fig. 20) or “clock,”
by blowing at which you try to tell the time of day. If you pull off one
of the feathery objects which go to make up the puffball, at its lower
end you see a little dandelion seedbox (Fig. 21).
And these fall days, along the roadsides and in the woods,
everywhere you see fruits which you will hardly know as such unless
you keep in mind the true meaning of the word.
Many of these I am sure you would not care to eat. The burr from
the burdock would not make a pleasant mouthful. Neither would you
like to breakfast on a milkweed pod. And a quantity of dandelion
puffballs would hardly add to the enjoyment of your supper.
 Fig. 21

If you should tell your mother you had brought her some fruit, and
should show her a basket of burrs and pods, she would think you
were only joking, and perhaps a little foolish; and I dare say she
would be greatly surprised to find you were using the word quite
rightly.
 MORE COUSINS OF THE APPLE

Fig. 22

T HE apple has three cousins, all of whom are very much alike.
These cousins are the cherry, the plum, and the peach (Figs. 22,
23, 24). All three belong to the Rose family.
Have you ever noticed the great family likeness between these
three fruits?
Look at them in the pictures. To be sure, they are of different sizes,
but they are almost alike in shape.
And if you should cut them open lengthwise, right through the
stony center, all three would look much like the next picture, which is
taken from a peach (Fig. 25). All these fruits have the soft outer part
which you find so pleasant to the taste.

Fig. 23
 Fig. 24

Within this, in all of them, is a hard object, which we call the stone
or pit; and inside this stone or pit, in each case, lies the seed.
These next pictures show you two views of the flower of the cherry
(Figs. 26, 27).
Here you see a likeness to other members of the Rose family, to
the blossoms of the apple and the pear.

Fig. 25

You see that the green cup is cut into five little leaves (in the
picture these are turned back and downward). You see also the five
white flower leaves, and ever so many of the pins with dust boxes.
But you find only one of those pins without dust boxes; and this, as
you now know, has a seedbox below.
 Fig. 26

Fig. 27

Well, that is all right. The cherry blossom has but one of these
pins, and the flowers of the peach and of the plum have only one.
Figure 28 shows you a cherry blossom cut open. Here you see
plainly the single pin with a seedbox.
This seedbox with its case is what grows into the cherry. The white
flower leaves, and the pins with dust boxes, fall away. In the cherry
flower the green cup also disappears, instead of making the best
part of the fruit, as it does with the apple and the pear. And the upper
part of the seedbox pin withers off; but the seedbox below grows
juicy and ripe and red, at least its outer case does.

Fig. 28
 By the end of June you take out the long ladder and place it
against the cherry tree. Seating yourself on one of its upper rungs,
you swallow the outside of the shining little ball we call the cherry,
letting the stony seedbox inside drop down upon the ground, where
all ripe seeds belong.
The story of the plum and of the peach is almost the same as the
story of the cherry. If you understand how the single seedbox of the
cherry blossom turns into the cherry fruit, then you understand how
the same thing happens with the single seedboxes of the plum and
the peach blossom.
You know that in the flowers of the pear and the apple there were
several of these pins without dust boxes; and although these were
joined below into a single seedbox, this had separate compartments
for the many seeds.
But the single seedboxes of the cherry, the plum, and the peach,
have but one hollow. Usually in this hollow we find only one seed. So
you see that these three fruits make a little group by themselves
because of their great likeness to one another.
 STILL MORE COUSINS

Fig. 29

C HERRIES and plums we find growing wild in the woods and

fields. While in many ways the wild trees are unlike those we
grow in our orchards, yet, if you look closely at their flowers and
fruits, you will find they answer generally to the descriptions you
have been reading.
Early in May, when the orchard is still gray and dreary, suddenly
we notice that the upper branches of the cherry tree look as though a
light snow had fallen. It seems as if the lovely blossoms had burst
forth in an hour. One’s heart gives a joyful jump. Summer is really
coming. The flowers of May promise the fruit of June.
But when we find the blossoms of the wild cherry, it is several
weeks later. Some of the little wood flowers have already come and
gone. The trees are thick with leaves before we discover the
fragrance of its slender, drooping clusters; for, though in other ways
these blossoms are almost exactly like those of the cultivated cherry,
they are much smaller, and grow differently on the branches.
This same difference in size and manner of growing you will find
between the wild and the cultivated fruits. You country children know
well the little chokecherries (Fig. 29) that are so pretty and so
plentiful along the lanes. These hang in bunches that remind you
somewhat of the clusters of the currant. They are much smaller than
the market cherry; yet if you cut one through, you will see that in
make-up it is almost exactly like its big sister.
 Those of you who live near the sea find wild beach plums (Fig. 30)
growing thickly along the sand hills. These are hardly larger than
good-sized grapes; yet if you cut them open, you see that they are
really plums.

Fig. 30

In our woods and fields we do not find any wild peaches. The
peach was brought to us from far-away Persia. Only in the garden
and orchard do we meet its beautiful pink blossoms. To see these
growing naturally we must go to their Persian home.
So, while we remember that the cherry, the plum, and the peach
belong to one little group because of their likeness to one another, let
us not forget that the peach is one of the foreign members of the
Rose family.
 IN THE WOODS

W HAT do you say this morning to going to the woods rather than
to either garden or orchard?
Not that I am ready to take back anything I said at the beginning of
this book about the delights of the orchard as a playground. For
actual play I know of no better place. An apple tree is as good a
horse as it is a house, as good a ship as it is a mountain. Other trees
may be taller, finer to look at, more exciting to climb; but they do not
know how to fit themselves to the need of the moment as does an
apple tree.
But for anything besides play, the woods, the real woods, are even
better than the orchard. The truth is, in the woods you have such a
good time just living, that you hardly need to play; at least you do if
you are made in the right way.
So now we are off for the woods. We have only to cross a field and
climb a fence, and we are in the lane which leads where we wish to
go.
Through the trees comes a golden light. This is made partly by the
sunshine, but mostly by the leaves turned yellow. These yellow
leaves mean that summer is over. It is in summer, when we are
having our vacation, that the leaves work hardest; for leaves have
work to do, as we shall learn later. But now they are taking a rest,
and wearing their holiday colors.
Twisting in and out over the rails of the fence are clusters of
berries which are very beautiful when you look at them closely. Each
berry is an orange-colored case which opens so as to show a scarlet
seedbox within (Fig. 31). A little earlier in the year you could not see
this bright-colored seedbox. It is only a short time since the outer
case opened and displayed its contents. These are the berries of the
bittersweet. Last June you would hardly have noticed its little
greenish flowers, and would have been surprised to learn that they
could change into such gay fruit.
 Fig. 31

Do you see a shrub close by covered with berries? These berries

are dark blue. They grow on bright-red stalks. If we wait here long
enough, it is likely that we shall see the birds alight upon some upper
twig and make their dinner on the dogwood berries; for this is one of
the Dogwood family,—the red-stalked dogwood, we call it (Fig. 32).
When its berries turn a very dark blue, then the birds know they are
ready to be eaten, just as we know the same thing by the rosy
cheeks of the apple.

Fig. 32

You can be pretty sure that any fruit so gayly colored as to make
us look at it twice, is trying to persuade some one—some boy or girl,
or bird, or perhaps even some bear—to come and eat it.
You have not forgotten, I hope, why these fruits are so anxious to
be eaten? You remember that when their seeds become ripe, and
ready to make new plants, then they put on bright colors that say for
them, “Come and eat us, for our little seeds want to get out of their
prison!”
 Once upon a time these seeds did not find their cozy seed cases a
prison. So once upon a time the baby robins were content to stay
safe in their nest. And once upon a time all the playground you
needed was a little corner behind your mother’s chair. But seeds, like
birds and babies, outgrow their surroundings, and need more room.

Fig. 33

Here is a tall shrub with bright-colored leaves, and clusters of dark

red fruit that grow high above our heads (Fig. 33). It looks something
like certain materials used in fancywork. This shrub is called the
sumac; and if you pick and pull apart one of its fruit clusters, you find
that it is made up of a quantity of seeds that are covered with little
red hairs. There is nothing soft and juicy about the fruit of the sumac.
Whether it is ever used as food by the birds, I do not know. I wish
some child would make it his business to find out about this. Some of
you are sure to live near a clump of sumacs. By watching them
closely for a few weeks, you ought to discover if any birds feed upon
their fruit.
If you do make any such discovery, I hope you will write a letter
telling me of it; and then, if another edition of this book is published, I
shall be able to tell other children more about the fruit of the sumac
than I can tell you to-day.
There are many interesting things about plants yet to be found out;
and you children will find it far pleasanter to make your own
discoveries, using your own bright eyes, than to read about the
discoveries of other people. Every field, each bit of woods, the road
we know so well leading from home to the schoolhouse, and even
the city squares and parks, are full of interesting things that as yet
we have never seen, even though we may have been over the
ground a hundred times before.
Now let us leave the lane, and strike into the woods in search of
new fruits. This morning we will look especially for those fruits which
by their bright colors and pleasant looks seem to be calling out to
whomsoever it may concern, “Come and eat us!”
Close at hand is one of our prettiest plants. Its leaves look as
though they were trying to be in the height of the fall fashion, and to
outdo even the trees in brightness of color. These leaves are set in
circles about the slim stem. From the top of this grow some purple
berries (Fig. 34).

Fig. 34

This plant is the Indian cucumber root. If one of you boys will dig it
up with your knife, you will find that its root is shaped a little like a
cucumber. Though I have never made the experiment myself, I am
told that it tastes something like the cucumber. It is possible, that, as
its name suggests, it was used as food by the Indians. To hunt up
the beginnings of plant names is often amusing. So many of these
are Indian, that in our rambles through the woods we are constantly
reminded of the days when the red man was finding his chief support
in their plants and animals.
In June we find the flower of the Indian cucumber root. This is a
little yellowish blossom, one of the Lily family. Small though it is, for
one who knows something of botany it is easy to recognize it as a
lily. Indeed, the look of the plant suggests the wood and meadow
lilies. This is partly because of the way in which the leaves grow
about its stem, much as they do in these other lilies.
Now look at the beautiful carpet which is spread beneath your feet.
Here you will wish to step very lightly; for otherwise you might crush
some of those bright red berries which are set thickly among the little
white-veined leaves.
These are called “partridge berries,”—a name given them because
they are eaten by partridges. But the bare winter woods offer few
tempting morsels for bird meals; and it seems likely that the nuthatch
and snowbird, the chickadee and winter wren, hail with delight these
bright berries, and share with the partridges the welcome feast.
Please look closely at one of the berries in Fig. 35, and tell me
whether you see anything unusual.
“There are two little holes on top.”
Yes, that is just what I hoped you would notice. I do not know of
any other berries in which you could find these two little holes; and
as I do not believe it would be possible for you to guess what made
these holes, I will tell you about them.
 Fig. 35

The flowers of the partridge vine always grow in twos. The

seedboxes of these two flowers are joined in one. So when the
flowers fade away, only the one seedbox is left. When this ripens, it
becomes the partridge berry; and the two little holes show where the
two flowers were fastened to the seedbox.
Try not to forget this, and early next July be sure to go to the
woods and look for the little sister flowers. Perhaps their delicious
fragrance will help you in your hunt for their hiding place. Then see
for yourselves how the two blossoms have but one seedbox between
them (Fig. 35).
Now, we must take care not to wet our feet, for the ground is
getting damp. We are coming to that lovely spot where the brook
winds beneath the hemlocks after making its leap down the rocks.
What is that flaming red spot against the gray rock yonder?
As we draw nearer, we see that a quantity of scarlet berries are
closely packed upon a thick stalk (Fig. 36).
 Do you know the name of the plant which owns this flaming fruit?
If you were in these woods last May, at every turn you met one of
those quaint little fellows we call “Jack-in-the-pulpit.”

Fig. 36

Jack himself, you remember, was hidden almost out of sight by his
“pulpit.” This pulpit was made of a leaf striped green or purple, or
both; and this leaf curled about and above Jack (Fig. 37).
After a time the pretty leaf pulpit faded away, and Jack was left
standing all alone.
The lower part of Jack is covered with tiny flowers. After these had
been properly dusted by the little flies (for flies, not bees, visit Jack),
just as the apple blossom began to change into the apple, so these
tiny flowers began to turn into bright berries.
While this was happening, Jack’s upper part began to wither away;
and at last all of it that was left was the queer little tail which you see
at the top of the bunch of berries.