Each god sat with perfectly straight backs, blank expressions resting on their beauteous faces. Making up the center of the room is a large arrangement of various thrones. Each throne was entirely unique, same as the beings resting upon them. In eerie synchronization the gods turned to look at my grandfather and I. While no faces changed, I could feel a shift in the air. When we first entered, the air held boredom, and it was obvious that they had no desire to be there. But upon our entrance an interest was piqued and I could see a slight relaxing in their rod straight backs. It dawned on me then, that my grandfather was the king of these perfect beings. I feel a new sense of awe, proud to be related to this god of gods. 

Grandfather abruptly moves away from me, striding towards an empty throne in the room. It is the largest in the room, carved out of moonstone with a high back. Inlaid in the moonstone, which appears white but has a variety of colors, are scenes of wars that my grandfather has partaken in. The seat is covered in white velvet, soft to the touch and well cushioned. Once grandfather is seated, the other gods turn to him expectantly. I know that they have noticed me- I can feel them glancing through their peripheral vision, and the air itself is humming with their unasked question. I imagine I am the first person to be brought into Olympus in many years. Maybe centuries.

Grandfather clears his throat, and whatever interest the gods had in me is replaced by respect for their leader. I am completely forgotten as they gaze at my grandfather, unshakably loyal. "Before I left, I explained that I was on a search. Hera had recently told me that  my blood walked the Earth, and I decided then that I needed to find them. And I have found one. This is my granddaughter, Macaria. She is the daughter of my son, Hercules. We are soon to travel to Greece and find my son. For it has been made known to me that he lives."

The crowd gasps, shocked by grandfathers news. I sympathized with them, understanding that for centuries my father had been dead. The room erupted in noise, each god fighting to speak to their leader, fighting for his attention. 

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