Sphagia - english version

Greece, 370 b.C.

The Lord of Olympus drew a deep breath, and relaxed his shoulders upon His throne. The Nectar, most delicious and refreshing beverage could not be conceived, had a bitter taste on the God of Gods' lips. He did not worry. The Thunderbolt on His hand could still smite any being but Himself with a single touch, but it was clearly perceived by the Supreme God that it did not burn with the same intensity as before.

"Before", wondered Zeus, "What can the Before be, face the After and the Now? Time is of no circunstance to Those that did not feel its ravages... or is it? Could it be the final curse of my Father, having lost the battle, but winning the war?"

The other Gods in the Olympian Hall did not mind, or care, about the musings of the Greatest among Them. Zeus shifted his body on his seat, a physical reflection of his change of heart.

"NO! Chronos is held prisioner in Tartarus alongside the other Titans. Time does not matter to Olympus. Time is a matter of Men, and what the insignificant affairs of mortals represent to Those on this Hall?"

His eyes moved through the sumptuous Hall of Marble and beheld Sons and Daughters, Brothers and Sisters. Some were absent, but He could see Them as if They were just before Him. He wondered about how much has been since the Olympians lost interest in the people who lived at the feet of Their mountain. Greek, they called themselves, and in the Name or by the Will of the Gods they waged war, sacrificed, died, loved and celebrated. But it came the day when men hunted in Artemis' Sacred Grove and She was not there to punish them. A day when Dyonysus was not present to bless the wine with his cheer. It was the day Demeter abandoned the farms at the harvest. The day Hera did not grace the weddings. On that day, Zeus did not care about smiting the unjust with His Thunderbolt.

The mortals felt the retreat of the Gods. Their Presence, while still felt, was not a constant influence in their daily affairs. It did not take much time for the sacrifices to become not as common. Coins were not placed in the mouths of the departed anymore. The Oracles were replaced more and more by Geometry, Philosophy, Mathematics. And the Lord of Olympus did not care. It was not the first time He wondered about this since that day, many years ago. Time did not affect the Gods.

Zeus had no desire to drink anymore, however Ganimedes had been taught to keep the glasses always filled. The lad paced towards the Supreme God when it happened. The jar tlinted almost inaudible on the tray. No God noticed it.

The second one was stronger. The Gods would not notice this one either, but Ganimedes did and could not withstand it. He lost his balance and fell, the silver tray crashing the floor and the crystal jar breaking into a million pieces, letting the divine liquid splash on the marble.

Zeus rose. Centuries of repressed anger would fall upon the helpless servant who failed his duties. The Thunderbolt shone with a sizzle, and His right Hand lifted it when the third quake began. This one the Gods would not ignore. The mountain trembled. Cracks appeared in the columns that held the Sky. Some who were standing had to seat to avoid falling. Zeus kept his feet.

It lasted for just a few seconds, but it was enough for Zeus to direct his wrath to a new, and greater, target.

"Poseidon! What manner of treason was that? Could My own Brother conspire against Olympus?"

"What do You say, Brother? How can You accuse with no proof or motif He who was ever faithful to You?"

"Always? Not always. Everyone knows the earth shakes only for three reasons. When My bolts hit the ground, when Ares marches for war, and when YOU orders it to! Explain Yourself!"

"You are mistaken, Father" said the voice of the only one who dared contest the Lord of Olympus, the wise voice of the dearest Daughter.

"Am I mistaken, Atena? How can this be possible?"

"There is one more reason for the earth to shake, that is when He who bears it on His shoulders moves it."

Zeus froze with disbelief. Could the Condemned One dare disdain of his burden? The lethargy of centuries that until moments ago weighted on the Supreme God evaporated in the boiling fire of his rage. Maybe it came the time to administer a new punishment to the Condemned One, maybe let him carry the world with one less arm.

"Atlas! Damned You be!", declared the Sovereign, "Disrespect punishment decreed by Olympus is the direst offence! Come with Me, You who will not suffer this slight unanswered, for Atlas will have His due for it!"

The enthusiasm behind the words of the Greatest among Them exhorted the Olympians. None fell behind.

- - -

The Olympians descended to the deepest caves of the Earth, towards where Zeus had imprisoned the Titan Atlas and condemned Him to bear the weight of the world upon his back. The divine entourage, after an hours long walk, reached the right spot. A short distance away laid a muscled silhouette, carrying the heavy load. Zeus halted the group with a gesture of His hand, and roared:

“ATLAS! What manner of mischief did you try to pass? You have little time to explain Yourself, lest I bring my Brother’s dog to feast upon Your entrails, worm!”

Some seconds passed before a voice that was not the Titan’s one, as the Olympians expected, answered the call:

“FATHER? Is that You?”

“Father? Who are You that are not the Condemned One and calls Me Father? Apollo, shine your light upon Him!”

The glow of Apollo allowed All to behold the visage of the One holding the burden in place of the Titan. His body and face had been horribly beaten, the eyes were bloated and swollen, dried blood covered his brow and cheeks, staining his beard. However, He could still be recognized, the Lion skin that covered his torso was unique in the entire world. Every one of Them knew They had the son of Zeus and mortal Alcmena before Them.

“Herakles!”, said the Lord of Olympus, “What are You doing there, and where is the One that should be in Your place?”

“Forgive me father! Forgive me for my failure! In my weakness I could not resist Their attack! Ambushed and chained, They brought me here so They could release the Condemned One! They knew I could stand the weight, as I already did before, and that I could stand at least enough for them to escape!”

“Who did this?”

“I failed. Failed. Was weak once again. All my life the glory my strength brought was shadowed by the shame of my weakness. I failed friends who died by my own hands. I failed wives who died by my own hands. Children who died by my own hands.”

“WHO did this?”

“I failed, but I will never fail again. Let this be