It was dark for Hephaestus, his skin damp from the rain and the trunk he sat on. The trees swayed above him, rustling with a noise that didn't quite reach him. The haunting thrum did little to distract his thoughts from his goal. Through the treeline, if he squinted, Hephaestus could see his quarry, the dragon.
It was merely a small shape in the distance, a curled swell of black scales besieged by constant lightning, surrounded by the crags of the peak it currently called home. The black clouds were dyed blue in the azure lightning that struck the peak of the mountain.
It wasn't natural, the way that it fell, coiling around the sleeping lizard. He had heard that it fed off the energy of Zeus, but he didn't think it would have been so passive.
Hephaestus eyed the clouds for a moment, considering his options. His fingers rubbed the sides of his jaw, watching the way Zeus' divinity centered in the storm. He had always assumed divinity dissipated quickly, weakening rapidly without direction. An assumption proved false with the way his chest rattled from the thunder that ripped through the woods. It was gathering it, its own strength great enough to attract even greater amounts of power.
A vicious cycle…one that was coming to an end. While seemingly passive, the dragon had brought attention to itself with the destruction it had wrought to a few other islands and one human village. It was a rabid thing, drunk off the power it had gorged itself on. Thankfully, it had found its way to an unmanned island to rest, giving Artemis and Hephaestus time to enact their plans.
Rather, that's what one may think. While Artemis was busy scouring the rest of the island, Hephaestus was focused on greater concerns.
"Could I? No…the deviation is too much."
The subtle rain became a torrent, with droplets of water finally escaping the embrace of leaves above him. Each drop that met his skin sizzled into a haze. The vapour curled around his shoulders, offsetted by the jut of flames that ripped from his mouth.
He scowled, a harsh breath spewing fire as another plan became unviable.
"A combination perhaps? Erosion…used in conjunction with Rule Breaker and Medea Lily's staff…"
The rain grew heavy, beating down on Hephaestus with a scream. It was as relentless as Hephaestus' own thoughts, a constant thrum both inward and outward. A logical part of him thought it a bit ludicrous. He didn't even know her name and yet ever since he saw her it was like she redefined everything he knew. Her pain, her life, her future...he needed to solve it. He needed to save her.
Fire ignited even in this dreary atmosphere, his frustration of not having a perfect plan curling its jagged edges around his heart. The mist circled around his neck and chin, his eyes piercing through the condensation.
"There's too much. I need to ensure that there is no margin for error. Invoking other gods could function, bypassing the restrictions of others. But, what of the gaps between? Just because they have a domain doesn't mean they are skilled."
He wasn't one for letting his frustrations show, yet no matter how focused he was, the solutions he came up with were always flawed. Manipulating the soul was possible, easy even.
"Seperation. Splintering. Replacing. Breaking. All of these are possible…what I need is unity."
The nature of the soul here differed slightly from EMIYA's knowledge. Hephaestus himself was an amalgamation, an echo of a world that was foreign to this one. The composition of his soul also differed. It was the source of his greatest strength…and his greatest limitation.
In a perfect world, he would simply employ the noble phantasm or mystic code fit for the job. That was how diverse EMIYA's arsenal truly was. In its infinite expanse lied a response to every situation imaginable.
This base of knowledge would be honed by EMIYA's incredible experiences both in life and as a counter guardian. EMIYA may not have been a standard prodigy or even the strongest of the servant roster, but his diversity in arms ensured that he was able for anything and everything. No matter the enemy, EMIYA was always a threat. He knew the laws and workings of his world like the back of his hand, knew the ins and outs of most of the important armaments he had available.
But he wasn't looking for a response. He wanted a solution. One that brought certainty that EMIYA's armaments simply couldn't outright deliver.
The air shimmered slightly as he conjured Erosion. It was a beautiful dagger, pure gold with a brittle edge. A mystic code that had been created by Morgan Le Fay herself. It's original purpose was to assist in Morgan's magecraft, though it had eventually become the cornerstone of Arturia's supposed resurrection, one that never came to fruition. A part of him found it funny, similar Rule Breaker and Erosion were, both carrying a design that made them impractical as normal weapons. Funnier still that both were perfect tools that carried the same perfect limitation…
The User.
He ran his finger across its edge, staring into the reflection of his face within its sheen, the shimmering reflection wavering with the water that drained down its edge. A dagger that could have resurrected King Arthur. A weapon that could sever the Mind, Body, and Soul.
He was fully confident that the memories stored within it would grant him the skills needed to weave the soul out and back into the body of his daughter. The idea of Thanatos taking umbrage with the process mattered little.
It would be so easy…a little snip…and the problem could be solved. He had attempted it before. He had used Erosion on an animal he experimented with, to grant it peace even during his experimentation. He could store his daughter's soul within his body, so the dissipation wasn't a concern.
Yet…his hands shook.
What if he couldn't do it?
What if weaving the soul back into the body only destroyed a delicate balance?
What if the moment her soul was severed she was bound for the underworld?
What if. What if. What if.
All of it stemmed from one singular fact. The blade severed…it did not weave. It did not mystically grant him the understanding of aligning a soul and cementing its connection to the body.
In EMIYA's world, an off-kilted soul was simply a concept that didn't exist. The soul could be shattered, cut apart, and even destroyed. It could be placed into other vessels and with the Third Magic be completely manipulated to suit a given need or even outright ressurected.
But a soul that was tethered to the body in the wrong way? That…simply didn't exist. It was either wrong, and didn't take or it was correct and flowed seamlessly.
There were other cases but each had their own problems. The body would decay and the soul ravaged over time.
The cure would be worse than the disease in that case. There was no middle ground.
What else didn't he know? Going in blind was stupid and reckless and his daughter's life mattered more than that. The stump Hephaestus was sitting on was charred black from the heat he gave off, his frustrations almost boiling over to a point that the surroundings would ignite.
He knew everything EMIYA knew. For EMIYA the soul was entirely separate from the body, carrying the genes of the soul. With it, the body reflects the soul.
Yet…his daughter's soul was misaligned…if anything her body should be warped and twisted.
'...like me,' he thought darkly.
Yet…she was perfect.
She was different.
All the solutions fizzled in the face of that fact.
He took a breath, refocusing himself. Dark thoughts like this did nothing to aid him. Instead he focused on what he did know. His daughter's soul…it was born, that much he knew. In EMIYA's world the soul was a concept before the body…yet here it was formed after or even at the same time his daughter was born, from what he could infer.
That difference alone could induce variables that could have irreversible effects.
He thought of countless combinations to offset the restrictions of his various noble phantasms. Erosion severed, with the connection of the soul being a separate ritual in the blade's history. Only an idiot would attempt magic with just a runic sequence and hope.
Lily Medea's noble phantasm at first was something that had promise…unfortunately the stories of the noble phantasms were not like alchemy. There was no brute forcing a result with them. With Lily Medea's staff, he could only recover injuries incurred by magecraft. Severing his daughter's soul would be cured, but was more likely to simply be put into the same situation he was trying to fix.
"The risk isn't worth it," he thought.
His daughter was not an experimental piece that he would subject to trial and error. Just because he had noble phantasms that could do one thing or another did little without a working hypothesis that he could test.
Never in his life did Hephaestus think he could empathize with some of the villains in EMIYA's history…how odd things could become. Still…even if it was unlikely, he never stopped considering other avenues.
Noble Phantasms and Mystic codes were restrictive in their uses, highly specialized tools that required immense knowledge to make full use of and techniques that he simply couldn't use.
His divine nature ensured that any means to brute force results using his own power would shatter the very tool he was using in the first place, disrupting the mystery. Yet, he had pondered the idea that his solution lied within the divine.
He had considered Apollo.
He had even considered Zeus.
They were immensely powerful. Zeus with his raw power could in theory achieve something similar to alchemy. In the idea that if enough power was directed, focused, one's desire would be achieved.
Apollo was, quite literally, built for this.
The issue…was Pan.
He had long since driven that idiotic and disgusting Satyr to the dirt. Even now, he was waiting for that sniveling garbage to rear his head again, only for his weapons to drive him back under. It was his actions that cemented Hephaestus' decision not to involve other gods. He could call in any number of favors he wanted, but the way said favors could be interpreted or put off just meant divine assistance was limited, if not outright inaccessible. Even worse was the idea that his desire for assistance would be twisted into something he didn't even want to fathom.
The haunting stories of parents losing the very children they were trying to save stayed his hand in that regard.
There was also Hecate.
He adored his company with her, truly…but he knew what she was, the kind of woman that she was. He had arrived to her not out of desperation but cold calculations. He knew that Hecate would not harm his child, also knew that she was sweet on him, just as she knew he was sweet on her.
Their relationship was positive, certainly, but she was ultimately a Titan. She was
the benchmark he used to gauge just how far divine assistance could really go. She had a solution ready and available, a testament to her knowledge. Yet, the nature of the solution made him ponder.
Why the ritual?
Why go so much out of her way to offer this solution, rather than simpler methods?
The only conclusion that he could reach was that the easy solutions he was considering and theorizing of were simply not viable. Divine Law made certain avenues outright impossible.
Her reaction only cemented his resolve not to involve the others. There was the truth that they could twist it to suit their own selfish desires, but it was also out of concern that they simply couldn't help. Pan agreed and even benefited from the deal with Wis, only to renege from his half of the deal with nary an issue.
Waiting for Artemis felt as if he had taken years off his life, his thoughts revolving around the same cycle. Solution, viability, dismissal. Over and over again. Yet, there were more pleasant thoughts as well.
Ideas of the future. What he would do. The kind of father he hoped he could be to his daughter. For every jagged reminder of the stakes was a soothing heat to wash over it. The memory of that little hand wrapped around his finger…
It was like nothing he had ever felt. It lit a fire in him no blade had ever inspired. Shirou's dream was the closest he had ever felt to something like this and even that was tame in comparison. If this was love…then he owed Aphrodite an apology…for the saying was true.
There was no force stronger.
Fire spewed from his mouth as he slowly made a decision. The gears within his world clanked as the rust sparked off of them, the once orangish hue beginning to darken. His eyes glowed not with light, but determination. He had borne a daughter. She was beautiful, filling places in his heart he didn't even know existed.
Memories of Thetis and Hera only cemented the idea of what kind of parent he would be. They were not the only divines he thought of, though. He stared at his hands, contemplating all that he knew of. He thought of Nemesis. He thought of Circe. Yet…more importantly…he thought of Zeus. Poseidon. Those whose stories were mired in the hunger for the opposite sex.
The cracks of his skin nearly erupted with a rage that almost scared him, a vengeful, spiteful hate that formed deep within. The idea that she would suffer from the decisions of those selfish gods.
CRACK!
Across his back and shoulders, spouts of flame began to scream with a quiet hiss. The rain that evaporated around him, the grass starting to crinkle from the raw heat. It should have outright ignited, if not for his own power keeping his surroundings from exploding in fire. There was no thinking needed. He'd kill them all if it came to it.
From what he had heard, Zeus had yet to…partake in the darker aspects of his myths. A part of him was hopeful that it would remain the case. If Hephaestus were to guess, the absence of control over his family facilitated an insatiable need to control everything else, whether one liked it or not. Perhaps that Zeus would still be born one day…but even if this Zeus was kind and cuddly like a bear, Hephaestus would still put a blade to his throat.
He needed to be stronger. He needed to be so overwhelming that the likes of Nemesis and even Zeus would balk at the idea of stepping into his turf in any scenario. Simply hunting them down and killing them over and over only left him to their retaliations. Pan had been a happy accident, one that could have easily cascaded into something far worse. Hunting Nemesis was next to impossible with the Underworld all but shut to him ever since Hades barred Hephaestus from his lands.
Starting a fight would only leave him open. But simply living his life and hoping for the best was stupid.
Artemis was right…the only truth in this world was power. The words of Pallas echoed in his mind…and he made his final decision.
"Styx," he thought.
"Hephaestus, are you alright? You went silent I–"
"Connect me to Pallas."
"...Hephaestus?"
"I'll need him in a few days. I'm calling in my favor."
She said nothing, but he felt her affirmation. She had known Hephaestus for several years now. He had zero intention of ever calling in the favor of Pallas.
The fact that he was…it made her smile.
Hephaestus wondered when it was that he stopped developing himself? Was it after he learned of Hecate's restrictions? When he was taking his slow lessons with Kassandra?
Perhaps it was the peace of it…the tranquility of his home…the confidence of EMIYA's incredible power. It still awed the God, how deep and versatile the Counter Guardian's abilities truly were.
It made him wonder just how powerful he was supposed to be when summoned in full by Alaya. EMIYA was her favorite Hunting Dog, her latest acquisition, and paradoxically her most used enforcer. There was a reason for that.
…One that he was ready to emulate.
The gears within cracked with golden power, spinning seamlessly in the air of his reality marble. Perhaps a part of him feared the attention developing his strength might bring…perhaps he found it easier to just live with his community on the island…to bask in it even.
Regardless, it mattered little.
What mattered now…was strength. He would need to be so overwhelming powerful that Nemesis and whatever enemies were still hidden would balk at the near mention of his name. He had to crush the dark parts of himself that thought of hiding his daughter for all her life. Just keeping her near him.
It was easier for him…but it would also most likely destroy her. Freedom was a right for all sentient life…and if he had to kill Gods to ensure hers…
Then so be it.
He took a shuddering breath, his flames calming down as he silenced his thoughts. The trees shuffled as Artemis emerged from the foliage. She had the privilege of hunting with Hephaestus only once before. He had been adequate, in divine standards.
The memory of his core still shook her a bit…for such a sight does not disappear once seen. As she looked at him, she saw a rusty blade in place of his core. One whose rust…was slowly coming off. His eyes carried a weight, a purpose to them now. He nodded to her.
"What have we found?"
"...It's nesting on the peaks. It doesn't know we're here yet…but with all this rain that won't be the case for long."
"You faced it once before…what can you tell me about it?"
Artemis was no push over. She was as strong as they came. The idea that this dragon was able to survive an encounter and escape was unusual to begin with.
"It's…an aberration," admitted Artemis, "I've met its kind before. They usually travel in flocks or thunders as I've come to call them. This one flies alone."
Hephaestus rubbed his chin, walking past her to the tree line. There was a small gap in the foliage, showing a mountain peak. His eyes saw past the distance, getting a rough shape of a scaled dragon laying peacefully on the mountain's ridges.
He narrowed his eyes. It was small, compared to what he thought he was facing. The memories of Fafnir and Albion inspired images of a far grander beast. Size mattered little in conjunction to a being's strength, himself being a key example. Yet…he had to ask.
"Is…this the beast that escaped you?"
She smirked.
"Seems weak, doesn't it? It was cunning and was able to use the divine power it siphoned from my father with rather remarkable ease. Most of its kind simply feed to get bigger and stronger over time ...this one was different."
It looked like any western dragon that EMIYA was accustomed to hunting. However, it was nothing like Pure or True dragons. Beasts of legend that were walking engines of pure destruction. He created a bow, loading a rather unique arrow.
On the surface, it was a demented thing. A twisted sheet of metal. While it would fly (quite well even), the design was entirely inhuman to reproduce. Yet, it was no noble phantasm. Instead, it was a simple mystic code.
In the halls of Chaldea, a practice had occurred in which command cards had been created. Unique means of engraving special effects into the weapons and tools of other heroes.
Well…that was the idea.
Unfortunately, it never held up in real combat scenarios for a variety of reasons. They had simply become one-off additions, unable to handle the strain of combat. A shame. Yet, even the most unusual inventions have their time to shine, as was the case with EMIYA. In Chaldea, with these cards, EMIYA was able to diversify his arsenal even further, creating specified ammunition that was cheap to produce and deadly to boot.
His back clenched as he pulled the arrow back, and he eyed Artemis, the two nodding at each other. It screeched as it tore through the wind, the inspired design spinning as it flew straight, increasing its punching power even further.
BZZZT!
Hephaestus blinked as it was torn apart without the creature even noticing it. It had collided with the energy it produced, disassembling on contact.
"You see the problem," muttered Artemis.
He summoned a white dagger. It was small and yet its power eclipsed the previous arrow. The noble phantasm got a rouse out of Artemis, but he found he didn't care anymore. The concern of hiding his arsenal was far from his mind.
So he went ahead and created a new weapon, a noble phantasm. It was far from the strongest, but at C rank, its power dwarfed his basic arrows. It was a simple dagger, the second noble phantasm of Dobrynya Nikitich, the Russian dragon slayer. The dagger named Berza Damask.
He bypassed the basic need for twisting it carefully, using his divinity to brute force the result that he wanted. The dagger's hilt melded into the blade, the short weapon elongating unnaturally as its metal was expanded, twisting into a vicious point. He could feel that it would shatter after use, but that didn't matter in this instance.
Artemis stared at it, her senses immediately understanding the significance of the weapon. She could feel the utter revulsion for dragons pouring off of it. It was caustic, like pure hatred distilled into a bladed form. She wondered why he bothered making it into an arrow after creating the blade, but she kept that to herself.
He fired again.
BZZZZT!
The process was longer, letting Hephaestus study the phenomena. The electricity that curled off the dragon's slumbering form effectively tore it apart, disassembling the magic that made the weapon up. He was tempted to recreate Balmung…but that weapon was effectively a nuke.
He needed the blood of the dragon, not its ashes.
"...an Anti-magic barrier?" he mused.
Artemis was already loading her own divine made arrows, turning to him as she fired. It was a beautiful shot.
BZZZT!
Not that it mattered.
"You know what it's doing?" she asked.
"Somewhat. I can see why your arrows did little for this beast. The lightning of Zeus…it destabilizes constructs."
A small annoyance, but ultimately one easily circumvented.
"Does it now?" asked Artemis, her right arm wrapped in a red shroud. The cloth shimmered with an ethereal silver glow. She looked at her bow and back to the dragon. "You've made Celestial Steel weapons, Hephaestus…can you make arrows?"
He only looked insulted at the accusation that he couldn't do it. His frown curled in that unmistakable smugness.
"Just checking," she muttered.
"Hmmm." .
His eyes glowed as he perceived the energy around this so-called dragon. It wasn't contained at all. It curled around the dragon, moving erratically. Churning and twisting at such speeds that even his eyes couldn't keep up with it. It was pure energy. His ammunition, for all the skill they were made with, was ultimately magical constructs.
One's that destablized on contact. A dragon was still a dragon it would seem…even if this one was a paltry imitation of what he knew.
He gripped his hands into the dirt beneath him, using reinforcement and alteration to augment the matter. It glowed red as it twisted and elongated into a large gravely arrow.
His divine energy seeped into his newly constructed arrow. In comparison to the arrows he'd usually use, it was meager.
Yet, as he pulled the arrow back and let it loose…it did not break. It punctured the scales however slightly, causing the dragon to roar itself away. Divinity versus Divinity. Artemis looked to her bow, smirking as she noted something.
"Let's go!"
Leagues were crossed in moments. Their divine signatures were not hidden. If anything, they were used to attract the attention of the dragon. It was a sleek animal, easily the size of a small house. Its scales were charred black from lightning, sparks of energy dancing along its pristine scales. Hephaestus slammed into the foot of the mountain, using all his explosive strength to rip through the stone and launch himself upwards.
His eyes narrowed as he noted the wound long since healed. His skin tingled from the surge of energy that surrounded the dragon, the skies rumbling with echoing thunder.
He was drenched, the rain pouring hard enough to obscure his vision. Clouds seeped from the dragon's maw as he got closer, completely hiding itself from view.
It screeched as several arrows punched through the clouds. Tracing was useless here. No…not useless.
Just inefficient.
The dragon cried in surprise when the God launched itself perfectly into its neck. Hephaestus' arms were large enough to almost grip at its throat.
CRUNCH!
The nameless dragon wheezed pitifully. Yet, even with a wound that would kill a normal beast, only lightning followed. Hephaestus' nervous system acted on its own, jerking back from the electric shock as the dragon erupted with the force of a storm.
It was shaky, its wings barely holding it aloft. Only instinct kept it going, streams of thunderous clouds erupting from its maw. Its baleful eyes narrowed, turning to the falling Hephaestus. It almost seemed to smirk as it aimed to dive down and strike him.
"CAW!"
Flames erupted from the clouds, dissipating them with ease as a massive phoenix flew overhead. The dragon stalled, thrashing about as its senses went haywire. Nothing made sense, the swell of power from Ifrit having come from nowhere.
"IFRIT! LEAVE IT INTACT!"
The dragon only shrinked back for a moment, before searing blue talons pierced its skull. With a thump, Hephaestus landed on the mountain, Artemis smirking beside him. A few phoenix feathers were gathered in her hands, her gaze almost unable to leave them. The shroud that hung on her arm is now absent.
"A sound plan to distract the dragon. If it had sensed Ifrit to start…it likely would have escaped," complimented Hephaestus.
It was Artemis idea. Ifrit was the most agile in the air. Hiding the bird within the cloth she had wrapped around her was easy enough, considering the composition of both beast and shroud. In fact, the energy that came off the shroud she used was entirely foreign. She couldn't help but watch as it disintegrated into motes of blue light.
She had questions, especially about the foreign blessings she could feel. Such questions could wait though. She preened at the feathers she had in her grasp, enjoying the feel. Contrary to popular belief, Phoenix feathers were not simply flame. They were soft. Heavenly so. Even to the gods the feeling was soothing. Thankfully they were rather normal sized, the Goddess of the hunt quickly pocketing them within her quiver before anyone could even mention them.
Ifrit landed beside them with a thud, the dragon caught within her talons easily enough. She was distinctly uncomfortable with Artemis caressing her feathers, but for Hephaestus let it be.
"A far simpler hunt than I was hoping for," admitted Artemis, "it's good that it was done quickly but I admit a sense of loss."
"The healing was particularly annoying," he muttered.
"Yet easily addressed…one day I'll hunt a quarry that can satisfy me."
While it was easy in theory, Hepahestus doubted there were many humans or demi-gods that could have hunted the dragon as efficiently as they could.
Anti-divine weapons would not impede the healing of the creature much. It was a dragon. It's own biology could endure deep wounds.
Anti-dragon weapons likely would do little, as the divinity would simply accelerate the healing.
An odd redundancy system that on the surface should have made the beast nigh invincible, in theory.
He could see it in the dead creature's eyes. There were cracks, popped blood vessels that were days old, crusted within the glazed expression. Distorted bone along the ridges of its spine.
Following his gaze even Artemis gave it pity.
"I had a feeling it was dying," whispered Artemis. She reached towards the body, her hand softly grasping it. She did something, something he couldn't rightly explain, but the soft smile she had made him think it brought her peace in some way.
"At least its suffering is over."
Its own power was breaking it down. The leaking divinity having driven it mad, though granting it greater strength in turn.
It should have dissipated, as the monsters of Greek myth tended to. Yet, the silverish glow around the monster's corpse was another favor he would owe Artemis, one he would repay gladly.
He still wasn't sure what made monsters disperse in this way, but the theories had to wait. The world shifted, along with his stomach, but his vision settled on the same clearing he left not earlier that day. She was tending to the cauldron, his daughter securely to her chest. If it wasn't for her peaceful slumber, he may have just lashed out.
"Calm yourself," he muttered internally.
It was getting harder and harder to reign in his impulsive desires. He was starting to think his domains were affecting him more than he had considered previously. Yet, for all his internal struggles, he smiled as he approached Hecate, noting the sigils that surrounded her.
"Is she alright? Athena had hypothesized ambient divinity could have adverse effects on Demi-gods?"
Hecate only smiled. His daughter was firmly in her hands, sleeping soundly on her chest. The child's head rested on her bosom, the red cloth wrapped around her softly.
"She is far more intelligent than I gave her credit for," mused Hecate, using magic to stir a massive wooden spoon. "The resonance between parent and child is far more volatile for a Demi-God than a deity unrelated to them. It would take her years before her resistance to my presence would need to be addressed. Even then, it need only be a short time away for my essence to be purged. Regardless, I assume you have the…creature...?"
She would have rubbed her brow if not for the sleeping child on her chest. Instead, a pair of eyes drilled into him.
"We could have used the beast as the recipient."
Hephaestus shrugged the upper layer of his chiton, revealing his bare chest. He moved to the centre of the circle, nodding to her.
"That dragon had destroyed a number of human settlements. Leaving it alive to shoulder my daughter's pain was never an option…but you already knew that."
"I know that you are stubborn," muttered Hecate. "Are you sure this is what you want? It will be like nothing you've felt before."
His child twitched as a surge of mana filled the air as Hecate began to prepare. The sigils on the ground altered and adjusted for the new parameters of Hecate's strange ritual. Yet, for all that Hecate was a professional, she still held onto the child firmly, even as she had to conjure extra astral arms to continue her weaving.
The witch held the little red haired girl like she was a precious treasure. In many ways, she was. In Hecate's arms wasn't just a piece of Hephaestus…it was his trust. Sure, he was watching her like a hawk…but the fact that he even allowed her to protect his only child…it was humbling in a way.
Hecate couldn't remember such trust being given to her. Her parents didn't care. Her sister Leto likewise assumed her to be like other Chthonian gods. Even Hades, someone that she was technically under, only called on her when there were absolutely no other options. People kept their distance, with only her apprentices being individuals that she let close…yet…none would have let her near their children.
She would know, a few of her adorable idiots had children they thought she didn't know of.
"Honestly," she couldn't help but smirk, "you'd think they'd know better."
Holding the child was…interesting. She was soft, vulnerable, yet…present. The weight of life that shouldn't be made even heavier to her. She couldn't help but brush a long strand of hair that tickled the sleeping babe's nose. As she was carefully placed upon the ground, the sigils erupted in light, swarming her body. The white glow slowly turned an eldritch purple, cackling with psionic energy.
"Artemis, bleed the dragon…the circle will do the rest."
She turned to Hephaestus as Artemis lugged the dragon to the outer rim of the ritual. His impassiveness only spurred her on, her eyes narrowing at the thought he was taking this lightly.
"It will be like a searing pain ripping into your spine," said Hecate, "even if you can endure for the moment, it won't dissipate."
"I can shoulder it," he assured, "more importantly, what do we know of her situation? Is it reversible?"
Hecate actually pondered for a moment. This girl's situation was unlike any that had come before her.
"...Not likely. What afflicts your daughter is no ailment or sickness. It is merely the way that she is born. We could sever the soul from her body but we run the risk of simply disrupting a delicate balance that is already in play."
"I figured," he said.
He was calm, uncaring. He had assumed this to begin with, but hearing from Hecate herself granted him some relief. He would continue to research this, he was almost certain he had a solution somewhere.
Hecate hesitated, eyeing him softly.
"...Hephaestus…this will not be easy."
He felt emboldened by her concern, leaning in, their noses barely touching. His eyes shimmered with something Hecate couldn't quite place, having never seen it directed to herself before. It settled what anxieties she vehemently denied existed.
"I'll be fine."
She remained rooted, a sense of calm washing over her as he smiled. His eyes were alight with resolve.
"I have it from here," he said simply.
With that, she finally relented. The circles glowed as She floated outside the runic circle, the child left floating in a ball of swirling sigils.
The ritual was short, an offshoot of an earlier failed ritual. It was the height of irony that it was Circe's work they were using today. The slow decay of Circe's first apprentice had forced her into developing the basics of the ritual Hecate was using.
A runic passage between body and the soul, one twisted by the divine energies created a transference sigil. With a few tweaks it could allow the transference of nigh any concept. There was no biological component. It didn't matter about possibility. The mind could be shifted and even the soul…with disastrous effects.
Circe had created this ritual to keep her apprentice alive. Shoving an incompatible soul into another's body was a recipe for a twisted and malformed appearance.
It couldn't be done after death, only during. The domain of free souls was firmly Thanatos' and it was one he guarded zealously. It was a brilliant show of spellwork…but it was flawed. A fundamental sneer at the natural laws of the world and it showed. Nekrosa's new body had been nothing but a shell that deteriorated rapidly.
But the mind? That remained untouched.
In theory…it should have been a recipe to extend mortal life. Yet, theories were rarely so perfect. The soul rending pain of separating and attaching a soul was not something easily overcome. It could not be assuaged, nor could it be cured.
Nekrosa was only viable due to her destroying her own nerves. She expected him to howl, to twist and grimace. He was stoic instead, his eyes closed in concentration.
The runes flowed into his skin, that crunch of their slow development easing into a steady hiss.
As the sigils flowed into his skin she couldn't help but note the…seamlessness of it. It was too seamless, too perfect. She almost gawked at the sight of his body immediately accommodating the foreign magic, his skin perfectly matching the flow.
There was zero rejection.
Magic by its nature was not something that could just be applied to a human body. One's own mana could flow through-out the body naturally but once applied to the outside world it would become tainted, saturated in energy that wasn't one's own.
To apply the ancient sigils to the body was, in theory, a positive. Rejection was natural, thus requiring ample preparation, additional runes and regents. It was a grueling process, the sigils slowly encroaching into the body piece by piece, a intertwining mess that would more likely kill the recipient than further strengthen them if one wasn't speck of the body reacting minutely different to outside forces.
It was what made alchemy so important for witches, allowing for the ability to alter and adjust the body for deeper wells of magic.
To put it bluntly, it should have taken a while. A slow, painstaking process. Instead, it flowed endlessly, a once estimated eighteen hour ritual being accelerated into mere minutes. Her mind was alight with the possibility this revelation brought.
So she added as much as she could, adjusting the ritual to fit the new parameter that was Hephaestus…and he didn't miss a beat.
To Hephaestus, she was practically glowing. The hat was done away with, along with the small niqab she wore. The cloth fizzled away, revealing the glowing sigils around Hecate's own throat and mouth.
Her words echoed and twisted, the ancient primordial language nothing but a seamless churn of reverberating sound to Hephaestus. His skin sizzled as the runes of Ancient Greece twisted up his arm. An elaborate pattern that quickly grew from his fingertips to just over the cusp of his jaw.
He felt a pressure building, like someone sitting on his chest. It squeezed at his ribs, popping into his shoulders and elbow. His jaw ached as the magic sunk in. It was a dull sort of pain, like someone pushing too hard during a message.
Uncomfortable perhaps, but not overtly painful.
Her words accelerated and for a moment Hephaestus was sure she was struggling to match the speed of her own spell. An impossibility surely. Hecate sweated, managing to maintain her skillful manipulation even with the unprecedented ease of his body.
Hecate was built for magic, her entire form a testament to it. Her sigils and runes were nothing more than a visual representation of the restraint she placed upon herself. Hephaestus was just sitting there, soaking in the runic structures without any strain whatsoever.
To put it eloquently…it was was the only way that she could describe it.
He was bullshit.
His power was bullshit.
The man was bullshit personified, as if he lived for the sole sake of breaking expectations…a trait his daughter seemed to have inherited. She had noticed it the moment her spell started, the way the girl's eyes had opened.
She was just a babe…yet she recognized that look. The child was absorbing every detail, memorizing every line and concept it came across. It may not understand it, but the fact that her gaze was relentless only made Hecate smile, accompanied by a strange feeling behind her ribs. It was warm, quickly tethering around the girl.
She tried to avoid it, logical thoughts dictating that such connection was too fast and too abrupt. Yet…the child's eyes never wavered, every inch of the ritual was being watch, analyzed, and recorded within that child's mind. She lost all perspective, just adrift in the world of magic, high on the pinnacle her skill had reached. Hecate's hands twitched as, for a moment, she felt the barest hint of a ceiling.
A barrier to surpass.
A threshold of skill that she had yet to reach. She reigned in that horrid curiosity, curbing the darker desire to keep going, to just abandon the ethics she had adhered to herself and go wild with the magic before her.
She resisted the temptation and the ritual entered its final stages. For a moment, the small babe's eyes squirmed in pain, as the protective stave was done away with. Relief was quick to follow, as the runes glowed purple on Hephaestus.
The sigils disappeared as the pain settled in and to Hecate's immense shock, he stood. He moved as if there was nothing going on. Though, that wasn't entirely true. A ritual like this took a toll on the body, regardless of how powerful you were. Cracks, light and numerous, had spread across Hephaestus' arms and neck. It splintered across his face, lining his jaw, cheek, and across his nose.
A small disfigurement. She was conflicted. He seemed perfectly fine, quickly scooping his child into his arms. Parts of her hoped that it wasn't permanent. She quite liked his rugged face. Another part found a rather obscene delight at his scars.
Both parts exploded, merging into a singular burning deep in her stomach as he looked upon her. His eyes held nothing but gratitude, his smile soft in a way that she only saw in the bed they shared together.
There was not a single thing sexual about it. Yet, watching him hold his child as if it was the most precious thing in the world only made her own desire near ravenous for some reason. She could barely explain it, attributing only to the idea that a God that actively gave a shit about his child burned something sweet within her…reminded her of her own disastrous childhood…that it was possible for God to truly love another.
…that the cycle of abuse and neglect needn't be repeated.
Such thoughts soured the fire, but she didn't mind. Instead, she only crossed her arms, donning her hat and niqab once more. As the cloth rested comfortably over her nose and mouth she heard Artemis shuffle around them.
The corpse of the dragon had started to decay rapidly, its blood seeping into the ground. Soon the golden mist eroded it completely…leaving behind a few scales and a large jagged jaw bone filled with teeth.
Artemis smiled, eyeing the jagged bone. She hefted it, testing the weight before smiling at Hephaestus. She was quiet as she approached, eyeing the fluttering eyes of his daughter. She yawned, before slowly falling back asleep.
Artemis leaned forward, smiling softly. She whispered words, a shimmer of silver washing over the child of Hephaestus.
"May your mark always be true."
The blessings of the hunt. Unlike the ambient energy a god gave off, a blessing was minor in a way. An influence in their lives that could direct them in one thing or another. It was something intertwined with the soul rather than the body. While blessings like the Styx existed, most were like Artemis'. He only nodded gratefully, knowing that no words needed to be spoken.
"What will you name her?" asked Artemis.
"She's already named," interrupted Hecate, "Athena held the rights, as proper."
She expected Hephaestus to become sour. Instead excitement followed, the turbulence of their situation beginning to wane.
"What name has your mother given you," he whispered, "what name will I call you?"
"Erichthonius."
Crickets sung for a moment, the silence permeating through the area.
"What."
The area became hollow, both women eyeing the dead look he gave them.
"I know you are not deaf Hephaestus."
"...her name is…Erichthonius…" he repeated.
"Yes. That is the name Athena had given her and declared to sea and sky."
Hecate tapped the child's head softly, her own expression melting at the gurgle that escaped Erichthonius.
"That is the name engraved on her soul."
Hephaestus couldn't help but feel…conflicted. On the one hand…that meant that fate could, in theory, be changed irrevocably. The story of Erichthonius was now forever marred and twisted into something completely different. It inferred that the stories EMIYA's memories carried were not, in fact, one to one in every way.
On the other…it was a horrible name. Perhaps it was that modern sensibility bubbling up but the idea of his daughter carrying such a name was…annoying. It was at this moment that the memories of working with Athena filtered through, his expression darkening more and more in the abject horror of Athena's one miserable skill.
She couldn't name things worth a shit. She was either too literal or completely off base, with nothing in between. He remembered brain storming the chariot with her or at least the divine equivalent that she was considering.
"I believe the name Horse Driven works best," she stated with complete confidence.
It only devolved from there. She was highly creative…but that didn't mean she was good at it. He sweated a bit, eyeing the sleeping face of his daughter. She was a gift…and if that was the name her mother had given her…then so be it. Still…he wanted to give her a name as well. Her red hair was sprung like wool, caressing her cheeks as she adjusted in his grip. His fingers softly caressed the strands of hair.
A name echoed within him…one that seemed almost too perfect.
"Eri," he whispered.
It invoked the memory of Illya, the homunculi sister of Shirou. The memories of them in life after the war and Chaldea was sweet and peaceful. Exactly what he wanted for her.
"What did you say?"
"Eri," he affirmed, giving her a smirk as he looked into Hecate's eyes. "Surely a nickname is of no concern? It's just the first part of her name."
Rather than be angry or dismissive, she was merely perplexed.
"Nickname?" she muttered.
His smile spread further, only to retreat. He grew more solemn as he stood at his full height, looking down on Hecate slightly. He looked somewhat silly to her, acting all serious. Baby in one hand, jaw bone in the other.
"I owe you a great deal Hecate…more than I think I could ever truly repay."
Dangerous words for creatures of their stature…but also ones filled with sincerity. She made him speak, and wanted to spark some laughter in him. Yet…there was a hunger there…no…a resolve. One that she, unfortunately, recognized.
"I need to demand another favor of you," said Hephaestus, "one that I hope you understand."
He did not bow as the others have done. He did not beg. Instead, he asked her straight and true.
"Will you teach me magic?" he asked.
While Hecate was as cold as they come, Artemis carried enough shock for the both of them. Her face was aghast, wide in her disbelief he would ever ask the lady of magic of such a request.
"...you seek power," she said simply.
"I do."
Hephaestus looked beyond her woods, seeing something she could not.
"I have enemies…the kind that have hidden themselves behind others. Who believe I know nothing of their involvement in the misfortunes that have hit me thus far. I realize now," he said, looking at Eri, "that if I want Eri's life to be free…then I need strength."
The air heated up, a pressure that was neither divine nor magic pressing down on Hecate's shoulders. She only had a passing interest in it, any thought of a confrontation far from her mind.
She had made a choice earlier that day, alone with his child in her arms. No…she had made the choice the morning she awoke with him in her bed. She adored this silly man and all that he was…and all that he could be. The future was for the birds as they say, living in the now was simply for the best.
"I cannot," she said simply.
Her heart only settled deeper at his acceptance, in the way he didn't push or prod her, demanding her secrets as others would.
"I understand."
"Make no mistake," said Hecate, curling her finger under his chin, "you will not be alone in this affair. You know as well as I do that I cannot abide anyone, God or Man, bringing harm to my apprentices."
It took a moment for it to register for the two, their eyes widening as Hecate's hand carefully cupped the face of Eri, the girl's eyes opening to the world.
"Yes…she'll make a fine witch."
He blinked.
"This…this early?"
"Oh she'll need to grow. There is no telling the adverse effects of her biology this early in her development. Yet…there's raw talent there that I've never seen in another. Of all the witches I've taught in my life…I think she may be my Magnum Opus…so yes Hephaestus…I will be with her."
She raised a hand, dismissively looking away.
"Nothing I can do if my student's father wants to watch us. Can't be too careful with a Chthonic goddess after all."
He stalled, realizing what she was getting at. He only smirked as he shrugged.
"I'm afraid I do have to insist. Supervising her while she is with you is the only way Eri can be your student…is that agreeable?"
Hecate pretended to think on it, the skies darkening for a brief moment. The Fates were in the wind. He could feel the scowl of past and present…but he also could feel it in his gut, that smile. The same smile that burned with a ravenous need for the ever brighter future.
Two of the fates may disapprove but who cares about them. All Hepahestus cared about now…was Eri's future.
Hecate snapped her fingers, drawing a contract.
"Well…if I must," she muttered.
He reached for her, their hands joining together to shake their assent. Yet her eyes searched for him. A silent understanding between the two. For all her declaration of wanting to be a part of Eri's life…she would stay back if he requested it. For a moment he considered Athena. He considered the Olympians. Hell, he even considered Kassandra of all people.
He thought of the possibilities, the political fall-out of the worst case scenario (however unlikely). In the end he decided to simply do what was best for his daughter. If it stepped on the toes of other gods?
So be it. For their tears would be the only solace they would find.
His ears tingled with the crazed high pitched laughter of the middle siblings of the Fates, Lachesis. The dark clouds receded as Hecate began a new ritual.
"I welcome you daughter of war," she whispered.
Thunder rumbled.
"I welcome you, daughter of fire."
Lightning shivered above the clouds, a declaration that all could hear on the divine spectrum.
"You will walk my path as you walk your own," declared Hecate, "for my shadow will stand with you as you stand with me!"
The rest of her words were uttered in a language that Hephaestus actually didn't know. A small sigil formed above his daughter's head, shimmering away after a moment.
"Good. The Fates didn't intervene."
"They can do that?" muttered Artemis, eying the trees as if the fates could be lurking in their branches.
"They've tried," scowled Hecate, "not that they've been successful thus far."
It spoke of what changes Hecate had already made with her direct intervention. It also crushed Hephaestus' greatest doubt, that if the Fates willed it that it could not be changed. He was confident in his own fate. After all, he was an outsider, born beyond their petty rules. Eri was different and with this confirmation his resolve only hardened further.
"I've taken up a bit of your time," smiled Hephaestus. His voice echoed with grit, the husky tone making Hecate smile and Artemis grimace.
"A small pittance, really. I take it you plan to return home?"
"I promise to visit often but…we've intruded on your home long enough. I must prepare my home for Eri. She'll need food, clothing, adequate shelter…there's a lot of work to do."
Hecate shrugged.
"You overthink every faucet of your life, Hephaestus. Honestly, it can be quite exhausting."
"Hmm?"
"Silly man. My home is equipped with anything and everything you need. Why complicate it."
Artemis almost laughed. Hephaestus was a stoic bastard, his face rarely giving emotions outside of the extreme. In his core…she saw things. Things she was certain she wasn't supposed to see.
The image of that little boy screaming with no one to hear him would haunt her forever. The fact it wasn't the worst thing she saw haunted her more than any image she could conjure from his past.
That same horror stricken lad, that traumatized child, broken yet again. Yet, the cracks were not born of trauma or pain. Rather, his eyes nearly crossed as his jaw dropped slightly, with only a single utterance of a simple word.
"Huh?"
There was nary a sight funnier than watching a man who was competent be reduced to a dullard. She had to actually cover her mouth, a part of her enjoying this entire sequence of events. A twinkle between her and Hecate only made it even funnier.
"Your…home?" he croaked.
"Why of course. How else will you share my bed?"
Hecate rubbed the side of her arms, humming lightly.
"You are a delightful heater you know…and the thing you do with your tongue–"
"Hecate!"
She was as composed as ever, only a slight rise of her brow to Hephaestus' blushing face. Yet, it was the cringed expression of Artemis that really sweetened her teasing of them. The poor girl. As if Hecate would allow her to derive pleasure from Hephaestus' discomfort. No, the only one who would enjoy this to the fullest was her.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"There is a child present!?"
He quickly covered her ears as if it would somehow erase the fact that she was here.
"Of course she is. I'm not oblivious to her. Eri will have a home here as you would."
He seemed so lost that she couldn't help but finally laugh.
"Oh…you're joking," he muttered relievingly.
"Far from it," laughed Hecate, leaning into him with abandon. She purred even, enjoying the slight discomfort he held. Yet, for all her sensuality, that was all it was. For while she draped herself against the father, she also held the daughter close. She smiled softly looking between Hephaestus and Eri.
"My home is open to you both…though I know you. So go, return to your island home and make your arrangements for whatever you perceive is best. Even now you're likely being a fool, thinking of the problems that would arise from our union. Best to do so in your own abode, where you can brood in peace," she chuckled.
She only laughed a bit more as Hephaestus grumbled.
"Go. We don't need the rumors of our unholy affair spreading any further."
"Unholy?"
She pointed to herself.
"I, the Chithonic witch, have seduced the heavenly Olympian to my side," she whispered connivingly. A light step and she was floating beside him, an arm draped around his shoulders.
"Whispering my dark promises and sharing my bed. Some call me a cradle robber."
He cringed a bit. While it made total sense to him, he was confident he eclipsed her in experience. The memories of EMIYA were vast, spanning a length of time that couldn't rightly be calculated.
In all likelyhoods…he was probably older than any Titan or God bar none. In theory. To the outside world though?
"Adorable little god," she murmured, "Showing concern for me. The rumors for you are not all pleasant, you know."
He blinked, eyeing her. A small bubble appeared around Eri's head, the girl being brought back to sleep.
"They say you ravaged Aphrodite," she said factually, "And are conspiring to add Athena and Artemis to your little divine harem."
He choked, with Artemis' expression darkening significantly.
"I thought I killed the Gods spreading that stupid rumor," she growled.
"Oh you did. Aphrodite is not helping matters unfortunately."
"What?" he muttered.
The witch laughed as Hephaestus turned to her, as firm as he was, his daughter only softened whatever strength he brought forth. Hecate only poked him on the nose, smiling as his frown deepened.
"Conquest dear boy. The reputation of a God that can please the Goddess of love herself is stalwart indeed. Many goddesses consider you an impossible catch. They say I cursed you, coerced you, and that the fact you've only graced the bed of myself and Aphrodite–"
"Aphrodite?"
They both looked at him.
"...You need not pretend with me," smiled Hecate, "it was before our little romp…I don't dwell on such…"
Her words faltered at the confused light. There was no faking this.
"...Oh…you're serious."
"What did Aphrodite do," muttered Hephaestus darkly.
"...You are aware of this," stated Hecate to Artemis.
The two turned to Artemis, though it was Hecate that was observing her closely. To be fair, she had only learned the truth recently, through the core of Hephaestus. Artemis only sighed at Hephaestus' imploring gaze.
"I…she made it seem as if you two had sex when you left to talk."
"...How the—We did no such thing."
Hecate only started to laugh, eyeing Hephaestus' expression for something. What she saw only made her stomach twist in that beautiful way only genuine laughter could pull off. It almost hurt, even for a God, the way that she laughed.
"Oh that is a treat," she trilled, "The Goddess of Love being unable to bed her own husband!"
Artemis looked up, backing away. They were muted but…it wasn't infallible.
"This, my dear Hephaestus, is what makes you so interesting to me," she smiled. Her hands caressed either side of his face, her cloth covered lips meeting his cheek softly.
"Thank you silly man," she whispered fondly, "I needed a laugh."
"...I take it you mean to–"
"If you're referring to our continued courtship, that ship sailed long ago." Her hand rested on Eri's head, watching her sleeping expression. "Funny…it wasn't until Eri was here that I even considered something like friendship with you. The idea that I could tolerate your presence outside of my legs was already intriguing enough."
Her face almost cracked a smile at his impromptu choking. She ignored him, softly asking to hold Eri. She basked in the girl's attention, her blank face and quiet demeanor so unlike other children she had seen.
For the first time in her life, she genuinely enjoyed a child's company. Perhaps in part to her father, true, but the time he was gone to gather their regents the child proved herself warm company. Her eyes softened as she trailed a finger down her cheek, locking eyes with the child. Hephaestus would have assumed she was as lost in Eri's eyes as he was if Hecate didn't continue speaking.
"Yet…it wasn't until you showed concern for her that made me realize that…you are a man of your word when you can be."
"...I'm sorry," muttered Hephaestus, "but I…don't understand."
She looked at Eri and then went back to him.
"Her. You'd break your word for her. I thought you…pure, in a sense. That you would never break your word…in a way I…didn't want to deal with that sort of weight. Yet…it's exactly that you're imperfect that makes you so…beautiful to me. So…let's see where this goes, wherever it may lead."
He blinked, and she almost wanted to tease him further, just to see if his ears could blush even redder. Whatever words remained locked in her throat, her gaze discreetly studying Artemis in the corner of her vision. She looked as if she wanted to be anywhere else but here.
Hecate had more to say…but the Goddess of the Hunt couldn't be here when she did.
"I…"
The witch returned Eri to his arms, putting both of her hands on his face.
"I don't know where this will go…but I don't rightly care. You're the most fun I've had in years, Hephaestus. Now…go…you obviously wish to abscond from my domain."
"Wait, I don't–"
"Go," she laughed, "And work on your teasing. It's fun for now but I like my partners with a bit of bite to them."
A portal, the first he had actually seen, opened before him. It was right in front of his house of all places, making him eye her. To her annoyance, only a smirk graced her ears. The shock, the annoyance…none of it was there.
She knew immediately she lost when she spoke.
"What?" she muttered.
He only shook his head, chuckling as he eyed her for something she didn't quite like. She felt heat travelling to her cheeks of all places, a rare phenomenon she had actually forgotten she could do.
"What?" she stressed.
"Nothing…just wondering why you're able to open a gateway to my home so easily."
He already knew the answer…and it made her eyes widen at the audacity. It was the confidence of his expression that got to her, that ravenous smile she just wanted to remove.
"Get!" she declared awkwardly, the momentum lost once more, "I will see you another time."
She hesitated for a moment, a decision made, as he stepped through to his home he heard the last words of Hecate warble through.
"Accept the gift I've sent you," she scoffed uncaringly.
The portal snapped shut, leaving him along with his thoughts. Too much had happened and far too quickly for him to even think about the future anymore. Instead, all he dared to care about was the sleeping babe in his arms and the ideas of a crib. He could make due with something traced, but his child deserved the best and he would damn well make sure she had it. He needed his hands though.
He gripped the cloth at his neck, using the scarf he had made in remembrance for Calliope to wrap his daughter into a hold. Using magic the cloth expanded, and while it took a moment, he was able to wrap her around his chest securely, leaving both hands open.
He turned, only to note Artemis smiling.
"Quite the day," he murmured, rubbing the knuckles of his left fist softly. He was wondering why she was here, still drifting around him. The company was sound, that much he would admit to himself, but his mind still stirred the worst scenario it could. The worry of a parent perhaps?
"I…"
She struggled, which was strange to him. She had always shown herself to be resolute, firm in the way she handled things. Her words regarding Niobe made him wonder how much of that still affected her, still weighing on her confidence in herself.
Eventually his quiet patience was rewarded.
"I'm concerned," she finally admitted, "worried. I'm…I'm afraid that Apollo might…of what he might do."
Artemis paced around him. He shared her concerns…though admittedly he felt this had less to do with what Apollo had done and more to do with what she perceived him capable of. Hephaestus' mistrust of the healing God did not stem from the idea that he was malicious. It stemmed from Apollo's firm notions of what was "proper" and "true". He did not heal Hephaestus to affirm the fire god's health. He did so because he was something to be fixed…something to be turned beautiful.
Something to be adjusted to Apollo's standards. In many ways…perhaps there was some genuine concern in his thoughts…but Hephaestus knew just how far the Gods could go with their misconceived notions of "help".
Artemis…seemed afraid. Her concern showed a level of care that he didn't rightly think any of the Gods were truly capable of. It made him wonder…just how much of this world did he assume from EMIYA's memories. How much more of it did he have to experience? His inner turmoil aside, he answered Artemis as best he could.
"I have my own misgivings, this you know. Yet, we cannot judge the actions of others until they occur."
"So we just let him do whatever he wants," she muttered darkly.
He scoffed, rubbing the back of his daughter's hand through the cloth.
"We are not beings of free will," lied Hephaestus generously, "Apollo cannot simply do with her as she would…besides."
She tasted ash. She felt fire. She felt her lips crack at the sudden surge of heat that accosted her. She saw the cracks form on his body up close. They glowed with an ethereal azure heat, sparks of a divine core, diluted by his mortal shell. He should have broken apart…and yet he stood unfazed.
"If anyone attempts to even consider harming her…their life is forfeit, Artemis."
It was of no surprise that the threat was also aimed at her. She remembered a similar threat from Ares of all gods. The very thought of him made her skin crawl. Yet, a smile formed instead.
"Even me, my friend?" she chuckled.
He only smirked. Threats of violence between gods were usually threats. Yet, the levity made her feel as if it was nothing but a childish prodding, a rib between…
"Hmm," she thought, "so that's what it feels like."
Over the years, Artemis had come to enjoy the company of many nymphs and goddesses. Zoe was a key one, the daughter of Atlas, a consistent enough companion when she could put aside her duties back home for a period. Yet, they all shared the same core desire to please her…to serve her. Any thought of acting in accordance to their own desires or in conjunction with hers was simply unthinkable.
It was stale…and hollow.
Which made what this was all the more precious for her…and detest what Apollo had taken. Her brother…he was supposed to be everything to her, as she was to him…and she wasn't. He made a choice and covered himself. He must have been well aware of what she would see and how she would despise it. It was the only explanation.
She felt disgusted. As if every moment she spent with her brother she was laid bare while he was armoured. Open to his closed. It was how it was with everyone she knew.
Sheltered.
Protected.
Avoided.
Worshipped.
There was always something. Something between her and everyone else was as exhausting as it was annoying. Here it was simple…and she liked that. Well…to a degree. The wilds called to her and her desire for company was rapidly wilting.
"...I'll be heading out now," she said suddenly, eyeing something in the distance that Hephaestus couldn't understand, or at least not fully. She smiled as he merely waved her off.
"Until next time," he said.
It echoed with a promise, the surety that there would be a next time…always. She disappeared, moving into the treeline and out of even Hephaestus' keen gaze. There was no rest for the wicked though.
"HEPHAESTUS! HEPHAESTUS!?"
He blinked as Kassandra barreled through the treeline. She was heaving, having rushed here as fast as her legs could carry her. It was ironic that the ability to twist space did little to ease the exhaustion of running. A mile of hard running was difficult, regardless if said mile was natural or stretched.
"You…did you steal a baby?"
His jaw dropped at her accusation.
"...By the earth mother's tits you stole a baby!?"
"This is my baby," he muttered.
Her eyes widened. They actually didn't stop widening as the words registered in her head. She eyed the child strapped to his chest then back at him. She looked past him. He could actually see the machinations of her assumptions dawdling her brain to a puddle. She sputtered a bit, before moving in closer. She leaned in, whispering.
"That's…that's not Aphrodite's is it?"
"No." he grunted, "it is not Aphrodite's. We haven't even had sex Kassandra."
She glared, steadily rearing back. There was fear for just a moment.
"...Athena's?" she murmured.
"Yes," he said. There was no point in lying.
"...you…Heph…I…"
Her brain started to work as she scowled.
"...wait…but then…why aren't you dead?"
"Hmm?"
"I mean…if you did that to Athena…then Zeus would have….but…Athena would have just…"
She finally snapped, her voice choking out as she leaned against a tree.
"Oh sweet chaos," she wheezed, "it was consensual. You mad bastard! You absolute idiot!"
She gripped him by the shoulders. She tried to shake him, like she had always done. This time he wasn't laughing and he didn't budge as she tried to move him.
"You absolutely in-Wow you are solid" she muttered.
"Are you done being a dumbass?"
The drawl of his voice was not subtle nor kind. She gave a shaky grin at his narrowed eyes, looking at the sleeping babe.
"I…sorry about that, kind of got away with it all…just…Athena? DAMN."
"We didn't have sex," he muttered.
"...Okay, now I know you're lying."
She trotted around him her gaze trying to be supportive.
"Look…I get that it's a bit nerve wrecking to have a kid and all but you don't need to maintain this virgin status anymore…I know you were lying about Hecate and…I appreciate the joke of it all…"
He looked her dead in the eye…and smiled.
"I swear on Chaos itself."
The skies immediately blackened. Kassandra wilted as she stared upwards, her gaze lingering on her best friend, the one she affectionately referred internally as the godly dumbass.
"I swear that my hands never touched Athena nor Aphrodite…but I did bed Hecate."
Kassandra cringed.
"All night."
She wilted even further.
"And will be doing so again."
She choked.
"Regularly."
She wheezed, looking as if all life and left her.
"...you're…you're insane," she muttered.
"The rumors are false, but I won't shy away from my relationship with your mother."
"That was just a joke!" she cried.
"She thought it was sweet."
"YOU TOLD HER!?"
It was funny when people assumed you couldn't lie. It lets you get away from the craziest of things. He only shook his head and turned to face Hermes.
…he blinked. His eyes widened at the sight of the King of Thieves.
"..."
It didn't make sense. Hermes shouldn't have been able to enter. His lands were bared to Hermes intrusions…unless…
"You bastard," muttered Hephaestus.
The insult washed over Hermes as his grin grew to nigh unprecedented levels.
"Nice. You know Zeus wanted your take about his whole daughter's situation. You're lucky he didn't blast you into smithereens the moment the rumors hit the fan."
Hermes looked at his child, wiggling his finger in her direction. He slipped through Hephaestus' grasp as he tried to grip that finger and snap it.
"Athena is up there now explaining things, but this!? Oh this is just gold!"
Hermes swirled into himself, Kassandra having to look away or be turned to ash. As the god of lies and thieves returned to Olympus, Hephaestus only had one thing left to say.
"Fuck!"