The Warmth Of Dying Embers

Prologue

The forge.

To him, it is his home. A single place of refuge. An oasis for his mind to take shelter from the horrendous desert storm that is his immortal life.

The last bastion that symbolizes his worth.

From the moment he came into existence, the heat that radiates from the furnace has always comforted him. When others fear that they might be burnt to a crisp, he faced the flames with equal intensity, and has skillfully turned lumps of ore into the finest jewelry and weapons known to Greece.

Of course that's a given, he's Hephaestus, God of the blacksmiths. The Olympian who has done numerous marvels such as Athena's spear, Hades' sword and helm, Hermes' sandals and many more. The forger of many wonders. He's a god!

But that fact did little to help dampen his sour mood.

The furnace beside him roared with an intensity that could cook a man in just seconds, but the god didn't paid it any mind. This is his comfort zone, and no flames could ever burn him, and so he brought his hand out, unflinching from the crackles of the fire and took the pot. After pouring molten gold into a cast, wiped the sweat forming on his forehead away and sighed.

"I've been forging for them for more than a few millennia now. Is this what I'll always be?" He asked to himself mentally, and although he tried to steer his mind to other things, he knew the answer to it.

They never thought of him beyond his lame stature, or his disfigured limb, despite all his hard work in overcoming said disabilities. No matter how hard he tries to improve himself or how many request he would fulfill for them, all the Olympians would look at him either with mirth or disdain.

The outcast.

The godly pariah. 

He is very sick and tired from it all.

And although his mind is currently preoccupied with depressing thoughts, as a powerful Olympian within his domain, his body acted on reflex as if it already knows the next steps. The lame god cleared his work space and began bringing out his special thongs and the gems needed for his next project.

"How easy it is for them to forget me once I am done with their request? Who wants to care for a cripple?" His brows furrowed as he brought the ore and started molding the gold with his hammer.

No one cared for him, even way back before he was conceived.

He is supposed to be a collateral to fix the royal couple's relationship. Hera firstly intended him to be the start for her husband, Zeus, to become loyal to her after years and years of infidelity. It was relatively easy for her to entice Zeus, and so after a few months, she confirmed that she is pregnant.

She had high hopes for their future son but even a month after his conception, Zeus went back to his old ways which eventually leads to Hera, shocked beyond belief, when she caught him with another woman.

The hope she had has turned into anger.

And it was he who suffered in the end.

The day he was born into this world, Hera was appalled by her newborn baby's looks. She did not realize that all the bitterness and hatred she felt the whole time she was conceiving Hephaestus would actually take a toll on his appearance. His head appeared hideous with veins bulging out like he is constantly in pain. His crying did not helped his image either as Hera, still shocked on how... ugly her new son looked accidentally dropped him. Making the young one cry harder.

After a while when things calmed down, Zeus appears inside their chambers, excited to see their new son. But when he took a peek, his excited turned to shock, then to laughter. Hera, who was never been more angry at him than ever, did the unthinkable: she threw the baby outside the window and down to the base of Mount Olympus.