บท 7: The Power Of Words
Chapter 7: The power of Words
I trailed my dagger down from the Atlas' forehead to his completely black eye. The skin splitting open in a thin line despite the exaggerated pressure I was exercising, golden ichor trailed down his cheek and reached its chin falling on the ground in a single droplet.
And the titan responsible for holding the sky was afraid.
"Don't." the titan spoke.
Pleaded.
Begged.
It was in his tone, in the way he closed his eyes as he was trying to deny my existence, his fear rippled to the air without his consent, but to me, it was unmistakable.
"Why?" I asked.
Atlas looked at me again, at loss for words, like he had difficulties in understanding me, so my smile widened: "Why shouldn't I?"
The titan licked his lips, his eyes darting around, looking for what, I had no idea, even if I could imagine he was looking for either a weapon or something to bargain.
"I can get you golden apples from the tree..." he whispered.
The gods from Olympus may have been more or less on par with the current times, they were aware of the happenings in the world, Dionysus had slipped me a list of cocktails before one of the parties I threw at the camp, and I remembered Hermes had a cellphone instead of his caduceus.
Atlas was not. And it was more than likely that neither his brothers and sisters were, or his daughters, for what mattered.
Ignorance is the heaviest chain. I realized dryly.
So, when I pushed Atlas into believing me, he went back to the only thing he could offer: completing Heracles' task.
"I would need to hold the sky for you, wouldn't I?" I laughed, hopping around him in an ecstatic little dance: "Yes! How fun!"
I got close to him once again, my nose less than a centimeter from his: "It could be interesting, how much does the sky weigh?"
I twirled on myself: "A man named Archimedes once said: 'Give me a place to stand and with a lever, I will move the whole world.' But the weight of the primordial you hold, it can't be measured, can it? It's immaterial, it's metaphysical!" It was a fascinating idea.
"Heracles was a powerful demigod." Atlas tried to nod, only for the ground under his knee to fissure along a thin crack: "But it was never about strength, only about will. It's always about will, strength is only a small branch of the tree."
"Now that your attention wavers the ground cracks and tries to jump beyond you!" I noted with glee, fascinating was too little a word to describe what I was looking at, and yet it made sense, Atlas passed upon men excessive daring, which was the end result of extreme self-confidence, again, something born from an indomitable will.
Atlas looked at me, unable to understand my mind, and how I could be interested in what was happening in front of me, if only because I was in a very deadly predicament.
"And it's not that you physically can't let the sky fall, it is about your pride, no scratch that. It's about your will!" I realized: "It is because you led the titans in battle in order to claim the heavens, and as such you were punished with the task of holding them!"
My mind was flying as fast as light itself: "You are proving yourself worthy of ruling the heavens by showing to everyone that you can hold the weight of the position!"
Atlas was perfectly still, neither denying nor confirming my findings, but I could tell, and I could see how his back slightly straightened, like being recognized gave him strength, but I could also tell how the slight lowering of his head showed me that he was preparing himself to be laughed at.
Like a child with a dream that he didn't dare to confess. Something that he would fight for, but that he was used to hiding it from the world, and in that moment, I understood Atlas.
And I was awed, among the other things, the titan was the one who had been credited with the creation of Astronomy.
I could believe that this was the one rumored to be well versed in mathematics and philosophy, instead of the two-dimensional character portrayed in Riordan's books.
"Atlas." I repeated, embracing the weight of his pride, his unrelenting determination, and the strength of will that had him effectively shackled to his task.
An immortal had all the time in the world, and differently from Prometheus, he likely had the means to trick some half-god to hold the sky for him.
His daughters are near, and so is Ladon... how long would it take for him to organize something to trick another to take his place? I tried to put myself into his shoes.
He led the Titans to take the Olympus. I reasoned.
He won't leave his position until he has a legitimate chance overthrow the current rule, his pride, his nature, his determination, his headstrong-ness, his fatal flaw, won't allow anything less. I realized.
He has been birthed by mankind's faith, his psychology and character had grown around a basic concept. He is defined as Strong, Willful, as an immortal with excessive daring. His personality built itself over time around those ideas.
"When Heracles came, you took for him three apples." I resumed the previous line of thought, smiling widely.
Immortals do not change. I smiled widely, I had just made an extraordinary discovery that likely was true for every immortal born out of faith. Heracles, who was now an immortal god, was the same as he was when he ascended, but the path, growth, and history he had up to that moment had been his own.
"I'd like to surpass any that came before me, it sounds... fun." I turned my smile into a conspirational grin.
"I can hold back my boredom for a while, when I'm doing something interesting." I tilted my head, invading his personal space.
"Breaking Heracles' record would be exhilarating." I rolled my shoulders.
"I accept your offer, Atlas." and again I accepted the weight that came with his name: "I'll hold the sky, giving you enough time to grab me 6 apples, twice the number Heracles managed, and to chat with your daughters a bit. Maybe introduce me, since I'll swing by to say hi after your return."
"But be careful." My tone turned eager "My will is unbreakable only as long as I am interested. The moment I think I had enough, the sky falls."
The titan stared at me, the suspect that all my madness had been a ruse to drive him to that offer. Frankly, I wasn't sure myself, the more I thought about what had happened during our discussion, the more interested I was in watching the consequences of letting the sky fall.
"There are many aspects to willpower: determination, focus, dedication, stubbornness, self-control, discipline, bravery, selflessness, and selfishness." Atlas muttered to himself, almost as he was showing me why I couldn't make it.
I grinned like a loon: "I will surpass any that came before me." And it was a statement, like saying the 'sky is blue'. I would not be denied.
"The garden is accessible only during the sunset, I'll be as fast as I can, but during the summer the sunset can last as long as an hour and a half, are you prepared to endure?" the titan asked me, licking his lips in trepidation.
I could guess that seeing your daughters after millennia could be overwhelming.
"I am." I stated: "But I shall repeat, I get bored easily, don't make me wait, I don't know after how long the thought of seeing the sky fall will look more fascinating than surpassing those that came before me."
I straightened myself and watched west, where the sun was slowly but surely making its way towards the horizon: "After all," I kept talking, my chat with Hekate blazing into my mind: "There has never been someone like me, so my mark on this reality should be suitably unique."
"So you wish to leave a mark on this world, Nameless?" Atlas wondered, his eyes drifted to the west.
"And doing so as an Immortal, without a doubt..." he grinned a bit, believing that I was bluffing.
"Immortality is the absence of change." I cut him: "Immortality is a golden cage without walls that constricts and limits your choices. I was born free, and I'll die in the same way. The Fates are not cutting me down right now, does it means I am fated to destroy the world? So that a new Age can be born from its ashes? Will you keep your word? Will we become friends?"
I was honestly curious about the relationship between the Fates and free will, and pondering out loud, while confirming to Atlas that yes, I would let the sky fall, helped me finding a sense to my existence, if it had one. Doubtful I scoffed.
"I will swear on the Stix." Atlas rumbled.
"Don't bother." I shook my head "A promise on the Styx is a chain, and I despise them." Besides, I knew that immortals could break their word.
"You would trust me to keep my word?" the titan was bewildered, and made me laugh.
"I know you, Atlas." I turned towards him, noticing that he had stopped trying to reprimand me for the constant use of his name.
"You'll get enough time to see your daughters and an occasion to stretch your legs. I'll get to experiment what holding the sky is like, I'll get to be introduced to your daughters, and six golden apples to the side." I shrugged, it looked clear enough to me.
"If the sky falls, all Olympus will fall on your back even if you manage to escape the aftermath, and you are without an army to lead." I tilted my head.
"It would be glorious... for you, I mean, going out in a blaze of glory, only to be forgotten by the next generation of titans once Uranus manages to find his virility." I pictured the absolute new that such a world would be and smiled again.
"Such an event would likely kickstart every apocalypse in every pantheon. Would they mesh? Or would they slide one over another, like oil and water? Such an event would be seen even by the dead, so I would still be entertained."
For me it was a win-win.
"So you aren't really trusting my word..." Atlas muttered, he sounded almost... offended? By my lack of trust, the thought made me smile devilishly.
"Ooh, don't be like that, my friend." I knelt once more in front of him, bringing my face less than a centimeter from his, finally finding the right words to express my thoughts.
"I despise chains, and you're free to do what you want, either keep your word, or don't: you know the consequences of both those courses of action."
We were very close, and when the sun touched the horizon, Atlas shrugged, and the sky landed on my shoulders.
The cold, damp clouds gave me an instant of relief before the weight settled on me.
I felt like the vertebrae in my spine were being welded together by a
blowtorch, my left knee was rammed into the ground, my kneecap screaming murder, my back folding like paper.
No.
I pushed back, straightening my back under the infinite weight.
I was holding pain, suffering, hopelessness, hunger, fear, tiredness.
The weight of the sky didn't have limits, and it eroded me. My consciousness swayed on the brink of the abiss, my thoughts died, my dreams and hopes crumbled, my name was forgotten.
No.
My arms clutched the clouds over my shoulders, grabbing them with despair evident in how blood started to seep from beneath my nails, my teeth were slammed together, making difficult for me to breath properly, my heart was thundering beyond my control.
I held the sky.
I had closed my eyes when Atlas shrugged, and from behind my eyelids, I could see that my task was doomed to fail.
I was no Heracles, no Atlas. I didn't even belong to the PJO reality, I had no purpose, no reason to exist.
I pushed back, my right foot trying to find leverage against the ground, my muscles on the verge of tearing, my bones almost snapping, my ligaments about to be shred, my soul slowly crumbling over the colossal mistake that my pride had led me to make.
No.
I refused to stop pushing back. Like hell I was going to let a tiny thing like the sky kill me. I didn't know if it was possible, but I held back the sky. I had willingy taken it, and I would carry through my promise to Atlas.
I would hold the sky until he was back.
Or until I became bored.
And the mad-me that I had pretended to be during my chat with Atlas raised his head, grinning madly in my thoughts.
What if you drop it?
I couldn't not think about it.
Holding the sky was... there weren't words. Painful, yes, beyond whatever mortal could accomplish, sure.
Grating.
Annihilating.
My bones were ground together, my thoughts slowly slurring one against another like they were moving in molten tar, there was only one task, one purpose, one duty.
I pushed.
The sky would not fall.
Time had lost any meaning, and I too, had lost any sense of self, I was crumbling into nothingness, why did I have to suffer? I could just let go...
No.
I gritted my teeth, feeling the tang, metallic taste of blood on my tongue, and I was too far gone to feel any discomfort caused by the sweat coursing from my forehead over to my nose, on the point of which it formed droplets that fell on the ground.
Beyond the agonizing effort, I could feel my bones trembling, my muscles had forgotten what not being contracted meant, my breath was coming in ragged rasps, my lungs aching for more air, for less work, for an end to come. My heart was fluttering, blood madly rushing through my veins, washing away cramps that reformed immediately after, but the pain they caused was almost a relief over the white noise of sheer agony that I was suffering.
I just wanted for it to end, why would I care about anything else?
The sky started digging into my back. No.
I denied it. I was holding it, and it would stay above my shoulders. I pushed like I had never been doing anything else, and for all I knew, all my existence had been pain and the slow eroding of my sense of self, but that, that was unforgivable.
My name is Icarus. I remembered.
I was holding the sky, but thinking it wasn't enough. I had to declare it.
Holding the sky was nothing. I would do much more, be much more, and I would not go quietly in the night after completing what the Fates wanted from me, nor I would be nailed down by the weight of the sky.
"My name is Icarus." I repeated, my voice steady through my rasping breaths, and I opened my eyes in time to see the sunlight dropping behind the horizon, tossing the world into the night.
"My name is Icarus." I said once more: "And I am free."
The sky stood uncomfortably over my shoulders, his pressure not lessening, but I was holding it back. I would not be crushed.
My red-rimmed eyes finally managed to focus on what was happening around me, and my bleary vision made out a humanoid figure looming over me.
Atlas dropped a jute sack on the side of the small plateau, a branch tied to it like a classic cartoon vagabond had used it to pack his things.
He didn't come closer.
I chuckled among my heavy breaths. My body was still trying to give up, but 'mind over matter' became much more real in a world of gods and titans. So I endured.
"I'm not done." I warned Atlas off, I wasn't done playing with the sky.
"How are your daughters?" I asked after a while. The sky was heavy, its willingness to crush me, and whatever was around hadn't abated in the slightest, however, I had reforged my will to endure it. And everything I was had as a fulcrum myself being free. So, simply as that, while I found in myself the strength of will to 'not-fold', I wouldn't.
"Surprised to see me, few manage to reach Otri without crossing their garden." The titan tilted his head, looking at me with something akin to respect: "And curious to meet you, if I have to be honest."
"So you did tell them about me." I uttered a rasping laugh.
"I don't know your name, so I couldn't introduce you." the titan grumbled in distaste: even if he had no fault, he disliked not completing every aspect of the pact we had struck: "Are your curiosity and boredom sated now?"
"Did I hold the sky for longer than Hercules?" I asked back, minutely tilting my shoulders to try and alleviate a sudden cramp. I blessed the new pain that allowed me to not think about the disastrous state my body was likely in. More than a half-god or not, I sure as hell wasn't built for the kind of effort I was forcing myself through.
"Not yet." he shook his head.
I pushed back the sky, its will trying to squash me. But it couldn't. I knew who I was, and I wouldn't fade because of a dickless primordial.
"Stories credited you with the invention of astronomy." I said, my voice surprisingly even given the effort I was putting in not-dying.
Atlas answered to my unspoken question: "They are true: where my brother birthed the sun, the dawn and the moon, I invented the first celestial sphere."
I rolled his shoulders, likely marveling at the feeling of lighteness and freedom that was so uncommon to him.
His voice had turned wistful, and he was staring upwards, towards the starry sky only partially obscured by the column of clouds resting on my shoulders.
My ears managed to pick up a few words out of his half-whispered grumbling: "... Orion... lots to answer for..."
And my mind shot through all the stories I knew about Orion, suddenly remembering that the seven Pleyads were Atlas' daughters, and they had been chased by Orion, who had also dared to attack their mother, before being turned into doves and then stars by Zeus, so that they could comfort Atlas while he held up the sky, while being safe from the titan, whom still chased them in the sky.
Once more I wondered what the immortals saw when looking at the world, if they could distinguish between the myths they were a part of and the reality mankind had built them from.
"Beer dulls a memory, brand sets it burning, but wine is the best for a sore heart's yearning." I repeated Dionysus words: "There is a leather canteen that won't run out of wine in my backpack." I tilted my head indicating the backpack that I had dropped when I had reached the top of Mont Talampais.
At the titan questioning glance, I tried to shrug, only for the sky to remind me that I couldn't.
"A mortal poet named Hesiod once wrote:
And if longing seizes you for sailing the stormy seas,
when the Pleiades flee mighty Orion
and plunge into the misty deep
and all the gusty winds are raging,
then do not keep your ship on the wine-dark sea
but, as I bid you, remember to work the land."
Without uttering a word, Atlas walked toward my backpack and dug out my canteen, uncorking it and taking long sips. The titan walked back to me and sat down, leaning backwards until he rested on his elbows, free to drink while looking at the stars.
"You know a lot of things for a demigod." he grumbled.
"Talk with me, Atlas, the longer you hold my interest, the more you can rest." I reminded him of our respective positions.
"What do you know about my daughters that live in the garden?" he tilted his head, without stopping his stargazing.
I grunted, I may have found a way to not crumble under the sky, but I was far from comfortable, and far from being able to tell a story. The dry chuckle of the titan of strength, endurance, and astronomy told me that he knew it perfectly.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to recount the words that flashed in my mind: "Far on the sloping margin of the western sea sinking Helios had unyoked his flaming steeds, and laved their bright manes in the springs of Oceanus . . . and the swift-striding Hours, who strip him of his reins and the woven glory of his golden coronet, and relive his horse's dripping breasts of the hot harness; some turn the well-deserving steeds into the soft pasture, and lean the chariot backward, pole in air."
The titan let out a deep breath: "Hesperis, the Hour of the evening." he took several gulps of the wine: "She was beautiful and fleeting, with her yellow dress..."
"My daughters remind me of her, thank you for giving me time to talk with them." Atlas reminisced with a wry smile, and I would never again doubt Dionysus power. That wine had turned him into a sappy titan!
"What are their names?" I asked between my deep breaths. The sky tried to crush me in the moment I had lowered my guard, but I ruthlessly squashed its chance. I will not bow.
"Chrysothemis, the Golden law, Asterope, the Starry-faced, Hygieia, and Lipara, the Rich land. It hurt me discovering that one of them betrayed her family, forsaking her own name..." He shook his head.
After a while, his eyes left the east and he was looking somewhere else: "Pleione lived in a southern region of Greece, the mortals of the time called it Arcadia, on a mountain named Kyllini. Mortals used to pray her and make offerings because she had a soft spot for sailors, she called them brave, because they sailed in the night with nothing but their hearts to guide them. With her, I had the Hyades, Hyas, and the Pleiades."
He took several gulps of the wine, a lone tear trailing down his cheek.
"When Hyas died, killed by his own prey, the proud fool, his sisters cried themselves to death. The King placed the Hyades in a cluster on the Taurus constellation, so that at least at night, I can see some of my daughters."
Immortals do not change. I reminded myself, finding that the pain of the ancient being at my side was as raw as it was when the facts happened, millennia before, and that in a twisted way, Atlas respected Zeus, if only because he granted him the possibility to glance upon his daughters.
Time had lost again any meaning during his talking, and so I was extremely surprised when the sky tinted itself pink in the east.
I endured. I would surpass Heracles, freeing myself from the usual aims and limits of a common demigod.
Atlas let out a deep belly laugh, corking my leather canteen and coming close to me: "Now you have surpassed Heracles."
He didn't ask for the sky, he didn't need to, because I managed to force my way through those last agonizing moments, feeling like the sky wanted nothing more than crushing me when I was done because of my impudence. With a familiarity that I wished on nobody, Atlas freed me from my burden.
I shrugged off the weight and fell forward, effectively slamming my face on the ground.
While I passed out, I could hear the deep rumble of Atlas' laugh.
16 July 2000
When the sun touched the horizon, there was a sudden thickening of the Mist all around me, making it more solid, like a curtain. I pushed it aside and crossed it.
When the fog cleared, I was still on the side of the mountain, but the road was dirt covered in thick, lush grass. The sunset made a bloodred slash across the sea. The summit of the mountain seemed closer now, swirling with storm clouds and raw power, Mount Otri looked suddenly... bigger. And the path to the top, which I knew and I had already walked multiple times, was suddenly leading through a lush meadow of shadows and flowers: the garden of twilight.
I eyed the rest of the downhill park with curiosity, it looked more or less the same, while the path going towards the top went through a terrain that clearly wasn't there before.
I ducked under a branch and crossed the meadow, it looked interesting. I walked slowly, relying on the long branch that Atlas had ripped from the golden apple tree. It was a sturdy, straight piece of wood, And I had sweated seven bucks to prune it, stashing in my backpack all the wood and leaves that I divested it of, one could never know when a magical piece of wood could be useful.
The garden was vast and bountful. The grass itself was lush and vibrating with life. It took me exactly four seconds to take off my shoes and going barefoot across the sea of green. The light breeze made every single blade of grass dance, bringing forth the sweet smell of more flowers that I couldn't either hope to count or recognize.
Beyond flowers littering the grass, and the bushes of roses and whatnot, the trees where outstanding. Their presence was unmistakably magical, but it was far from the dangerous vibe of the forest I grew up in, the magic permeating the air was... tame.
It was obvious, from the fluvial stones drawing paths across the garden, that a lot of work had been put in keeping this place cared for. There was an absolute absence of irrigators, meaning that every single flowerbed was cared for individually.
If it hadn't been for the enormous dragon, the garden would've been the most beautiful place I'd ever seen. The grass shimmered with silvery evening light, and the flowers were such brilliant colors they almost glowed in the twilight. Stepping stones of polished black marble led around either side of a five-story-tall apple tree, every bough glittering with golden apples.
As soon as I smelled their fragrance, I knew that one bite would be the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted.
I wanted to step right up and pluck one, except for the dragon coiled around the tree.
Now, I don't know what you think of when I say dragon. Whatever it is, it's not scary enough. The serpent's body was as thick as a booster rocket, glinting with coppery scales. He had more heads than I could count, as if a hundred deadly pythons had been fused together.
He appeared to be asleep. The heads lay curled in a big spaghetti-like mound on the grass, all the eyes closed.
Then the shadows in front of me began to move. There was a beautiful, eerie singing, like voices from the bottom of a well.
Four figures shimmered into existence, four young women, all wearing white Greek chitons. Their skin was like caramel. Silky black hair tumbled loose around their shoulders. They were gorgeous, and, like their father could be, very dangerous.
"What are you doing in our garden mortal?" asked one.
I raised an eyebrow: "You mean Queen Hera's garden, don't you?"
I wasn't sure, but the slight darkening of her cheeks told me she was embarrassed by my answer.
"Answer her question!" Thundered another, even if her voice was more like the sweetness of honey than the rumble of thunder. She expected to be obeyed, and so I acquiesced her request.
"Taking a stroll." I grinned: "And Atlas told the truth, her daughters truly are more beautiful than the sunset they incarnate." I dipped my head slowly.
"Do not lie!" Hissed the third: "We can tell someone has been sent to steal from us."
"Well, it's not really my quest, and I don't really care about immortality right now, I'd prefer to hit 25 or something like that before stopping aging." I shrugged, acutely conscious of the sack on my shoulders: "And again, you are only caretakers of the Garden, it's not yours, so I would be stealing from the queen."
Number Three hissed in displeasure, her cheeks darkening like her first sister's ones.
"Then why would you come here?" The fourth asked quietly.
"I wanted to chat with Atlas, to hear if the stories were true." I answered.
When they stared impassively at me, I grinned mischievously.
"Honestly, I also wanted to meet the fabled nymphs of the sunset." And I lifted the canteen I had strapped at my waist: "I brought wine, and I thought we could have fun, you must have missed a lot of things, being cooped here for thousands of years."
"I don't believe you." Said one.
"Like all the others, you want to steal a golden apple." Said another.
I snorted: "I know Ladon dearest has been put here by the Queen of the gods in order to keep you from stealing apples."
I grinned, and sat down in the clearing: "I hoped to find a way to relieve some of your boredom."
"So you are here as a vanguard, to clean the way to other silly demigods?" One asked.
"Fools that dare attempt to take what cannot be taken by mortal hand?" asked another.
The third one simply gazed at me with eyes that spoke of nightshade, of dusk, of the end of the domain of men. There was something... in her posture, I decided. She was less guarded, likely because she believed Ladon would eat me sooner or later, or because she had caught on what my presence there meant.
I reached inside my pocket and took out a single golden apple, feeling it thrumming with everything, whispering promises to my senses, singing to my blood, begging to be eaten.
My mind cut through the compulsion, rooting myself into place, and I turned to watch the Hesperids, finding tiny differences among them and trying to figure out who was who.
Chrysothemis, was likely the most stuck up of the four, Asterope was the one on my left, given how her face seemed to almost sparkle, Hygieia on my right, and Lipara was the one closest to me, given thst her hips looked slightly larger than her sisters'.
"I held the sky while your father came here, I'm very sore, I thought we could relax together, and share this beauty." even if I had no intention of eating it, it was too soon for me to tackle immortality.
And just like that, it was like I had flipped a switch, their animosity vanished, and their eyes turned hungry.
"You held the sky for all that time?"
"You are very strong for a mortal."
"It's been a long time since we last talked with father."
"There is a pond where we can wash your tiredness away."
At the end of the day, I had left Half Blood camp in order to spite Luke and complete his quest before him. I had succeeded, only having to channel my inner Heat Ledger Joker and hold up the sky for a whole night.
Even if I did it more because I could than for any kind of actual necessity.
At this point, like hell I wasn't trying to bang the nypmhs.
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