Son of Fire

Some minutes later, they all gathered near Artemis' Moon Chariot, a silvery vehicle glowing faintly under the evening sky. With the help of the huntress, the group boarded the chariot, its ethereal light enveloping them. Alexander, still somewhat in awe of the divine craftsmanship, settled in quietly, keeping his thoughts to himself as the chariot soared into the night.

The journey to Mount Olympus was swift yet mesmerizing. The chariot raced through the heavens, leaving trails of shimmering light behind. They ascended higher and higher, breaking through the clouds, until the imposing peak of Mount Olympus came into view. The sight was breathtaking: towering structures of gold and marble rose against the horizon, their magnificence rivaling the very stars.

When they landed in the grand courtyard, the air was filled with an electrifying hum of anticipation. It was the winter solstice, a time when the Olympian Council convened, and the gods' presence could be felt in every corner of the mountaintop.

As they disembarked, Artemis turned to her companions, her expression serious but grateful. "You have all done well. What you have accomplished here today will not be forgotten."

Alexander glanced around at the grandeur of Olympus, his fire-colored eyes reflecting its brilliance. "So this is Olympus," he murmured, impressed despite himself. "It's... not what I expected."

Percy, standing beside him, chuckled. "Yeah, it has that effect on everyone."

Zoe stepped forward, her gaze unwavering as she addressed Artemis. "Shall we proceed, my lady? The council awaits."

Artemis nodded, leading the group through the grand halls, where the gods' presence seemed almost tangible. The group followed, their hearts heavy with the knowledge of what they had endured but filled with a quiet pride for what they had achieved.

The room was filled with tension as the gods debated the fate of their children. Zeus and Poseidon exchanged looks, hesitant to make a decision that would harm their own offspring, but Athena stood firm. "We cannot allow them to continue. The prophecy looms over them, and we must not risk it. They could bring about the downfall of Olympus."

Thalia and Percy, both standing there, felt the weight of their parentage in the air. The debate raged on, but it was clear that the gods were divided. The silence hung heavy before Thalia stood up, her voice unwavering.

"I refuse to let my fate be determined by a prophecy," she declared, her eyes meeting Artemis'. "I want to join the Hunt and become one of Artemis' immortal servants. This way, I can escape the prophecy."

Artemis looked at Talia with a mixture of pride and something deeper, a flicker of understanding passing between them. The other gods fell silent, and the debate shifted as they considered her words.

Meanwhile, Alexander, who had remained standing beside the group throughout the entire debate, finally stepped forward. His voice rang out, clear and firm. "I won't let you kill them," he said, his eyes locking onto the gods. "Even if I don't know them well, I have principles. And I won't let you kill them because of mistakes you gods have made."

His words echoed through the room, and some of the gods bristled in anger, while others glanced at him with a more somber expression. But before anyone could respond, Artemis intervened.

"If we kill heroes who help us," she began, her gaze sharp and her voice unwavering, "then we are not better than Titans." She looked at Alexander with something unspoken in her eyes.

The room fell into a tense silence after Artemis' words. The gods looked around at each other, their gazes shifting between the two demigods—Thalia and Percy—and Alexander. After a moment, Zeus raised his hand to call for a vote. The air was thick with anticipation as the gods voiced their opinions one by one.

Athena's voice was cold as she cast her vote. "They must die. The prophecy cannot be ignored."

Hera, her expression severe, agreed. "I stand with Athena. They are a threat to Olympus."

Dionysus, his tone more casual but no less stern, added, "They could very well bring about the downfall of all of us."

Ares, looking almost eager to see their end, sneered. "If they truly are a threat, better to eliminate them now."

The rest of the gods, however, disagreed. Poseidon shook his head, his expression filled with anger, yet determination. "I will not let you harm my child."

Zeus' eyes lingered on Percy , and then on his daughter, Thalia, a moment of softness in his otherwise stern expression. "I will not condemn them either," he muttered. "Not without reason."

Artemis nodded in agreement, her face resolute. "They helped save me. They are not to blame for their fates."

The votes were cast, and the tally became clear: only Athena, Hera, Dionysus, and Ares voted for the death of the children. The rest of the gods voted for them to remain alive.

"Very well," Zeus said, his voice heavy with authority. "The decision is made. You may leave the council now."

As the gods turned to leave, Artemis stayed in the chamber, her presence calm but unwavering. She had been with them all this time, and now, it was Alexander's turn to face them alone.

"Alexander," Zeus addressed him directly, the room falling silent as the other gods, including Artemis, looked to him. "We need to speak with you."

The group, except for Alexander, slowly exited the chamber, giving him space. Artemis watched him carefully, knowing that the gods had their reasons for calling him forward now, but she would not let them harm him.

The room was still as Zeus' voice echoed once again, this time more pointed. "Do you know your origin? Do you know why you're called the Son of Fire?" The weight of the question settled like a cloud over the room, and Alexander felt all eyes on him, each one filled with a mix of curiosity, judgment, and something more ancient. Artemis, seated in her throne, observed him quietly, her expression unreadable as always, though there was a certain intensity in her gaze.

Alexander took a deep breath, trying to steady himself under the gods' attention. He wasn't one to shy away from challenges, but the weight of their questions made him pause for just a moment. He had always wondered why he was called the "Son of Fire," but now, hearing Zeus' words, the question felt even more pressing, more urgent.

"No," Alexander replied, his voice calm but edged with a slight uncertainty. "I don't know. At first, I tried to see if I had some fire powers—something that would explain the name—but... I don't have any. I can only create weapons, summon things from nothing. That's all I've ever known."

The gods seemed to murmur among themselves for a brief moment, and the air seemed to grow even heavier. Then, from his seat, Hephaestus, the god of fire and forge, spoke, his voice carrying a knowing tone.

"It's normal," Hephaestus said, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of pride. "After all, you're my son. You possess the rarest power of any of my children."

Alexander's eyes shifted to Hephaestus, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked, a little perplexed.

Hephaestus leaned forward in his throne, his mechanical hand glinting slightly in the light. "Your power is not like the others. You do not have the same ability as a typical child of mine," Hephaestus explained, his gaze steady. "Instead, you have the ability to create. You are a master of creation, of bringing things into being. That is the rare gift you possess—the ability to create weapons, from nothing. The fire in you is not of destruction; it is of creation, of building. This is why you are the Son of Fire. It's not the flame that defines you, but the forge, the power to shape and mold. The fire is just the spark, the catalyst."

There was a brief pause in the room as everyone absorbed Hephaestus' words. Alexander, still absorbing the weight of the revelation, felt a sense of clarity that he hadn't felt before. His ability to summon and create weapons from nothing—was not a curse or an anomaly. It was his power, his heritage.

The words hung in the air like a weight, and for the first time, Alexander felt as though he truly understood who he was. The Son of Fire was not just a title—it was his identity, his legacy.

Artemis, seated silently on her throne, glanced toward Alexander with a mix of curiosity and perhaps something deeper, a hint of understanding. She had always known there was something extraordinary about him, but now, hearing Hephaestus' words, she understood just how much he had yet to discover about himself.

The other gods watched in silence, some with mild curiosity, others with unspoken thoughts. But for Alexander, the revelation was just the beginning. He wasn't just part of this world—he had a deeper role to play, a power to wield that could reshape his destiny. And it was only a matter of time before he would fully understand what that power meant for both him and the world around him.

The chamber was silent after Hephaestus' revelation, the weight of his words lingering in the air. Alexander's mind raced, processing what he had just heard. His thoughts swirled around the idea of his father—the god of the forge, a figure he had never known, a power he had always felt but never understood. It was a lot to take in, and something inside him snapped.

"You're my father?" Alexander said, his voice tinged with disbelief and anger. "Ha! As if I would call you that." He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing with contempt. "You're nothing more than a biological product with my mother. Even if I don't know her, I know one thing: she died for me in that fire."

A flicker of pain crossed Hephaestus' face, but Alexander continued, his voice growing louder, his anger boiling over.

"As for you, you were absent for most of my life," Alexander spat, his words sharp. "You didn't protect me, you didn't care for me. If you think I'll call you 'father,' then you can just kill me right here, right now. Because I'll never call you that."

A heavy silence fell across the room, the other gods exchanging looks. Artemis shifted in her seat, watching Alexander closely. The tension was palpable, and for the first time, even Zeus seemed to acknowledge the intensity of the moment.

There was a long pause before Hephaestus spoke, his voice quieter than before, tinged with a sadness that Alexander hadn't expected.

"I never wanted to abandon you, Alexander," Hephaestus said, his voice tinged with regret. "But I couldn't. The laws of the gods prevent me from being with you, from being a true father to you. I couldn't raise you, I couldn't protect you. But I've always known you. I've watched from afar. I've seen your strength, your power... your potential."

For a moment, Alexander faltered, feeling the weight of Hephaestus' words, but he quickly hardened his heart again. The anger still burned in him, and the hurt of abandonment was far too fresh.

"You were always there in spirit, I'm sure," Alexander said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "But that doesn't help me now. It doesn't change the fact that you weren't there when I needed you the most." His gaze hardened, and he took a step back. "So, don't expect me to call you anything other than a stranger, Hephaestus. You might have created me, but you didn't raise me. You didn't give me a home."

The gods in the room—most of whom had witnessed countless moments like this before—couldn't help but feel the rawness of Alexander's words. A few of them exchanged knowing glances, their expressions softening, understanding that it wasn't just Hephaestus who had failed Alexander. It was a failure rooted deep in the laws of Olympus, in the ancient rules that had kept them distant from their children.

A sadness passed through Hephaestus' eyes. For a moment, he looked like a man who had seen his greatest failure laid bare before him. "I know," he said quietly, his voice low. "I know I've failed you, Alexander. And I can never undo that."

Alexander stood there, his chest heaving with emotion, but his resolve unshaken. He didn't need Hephaestus' apologies or explanations. He had come this far without him. He was strong because of his own choices, not because of any godly influence.

A heavy silence lingered in the room, broken only by the sound of soft breaths from those watching. Artemis, who had remained silent, her expression unreadable, finally spoke.

"If we were all held accountable for the things we cannot change, we'd be nothing but ghosts of the past," she said, her voice quiet but firm. She glanced at Alexander, her eyes betraying a flicker of something else—perhaps understanding, or even sympathy. "You are who you choose to be, Alexander. Not because of your blood, but because of your actions."

For a moment, the room seemed to breathe again, and the gods shifted uneasily in their thrones. They knew that Alexander was right. The law, the rules that bound them all, had kept them apart from their children, and they couldn't simply erase the scars that had formed because of it.

Hephaestus, finally, nodded, a silent acceptance of Alexander's words. He understood now that he could never change the past, but perhaps he could still try to make things right—somehow.

"Your power is rare, Alexander," Hephaestus said quietly. "And I'm proud of what you've become. Even if I can't be the father you deserve, know that I recognize you. And that will have to be enough for now."

For a long moment, Alexander said nothing, his eyes fixed on the god who had created him but never truly known him. Then, with a final, deliberate motion, he turned away. "Enough," he muttered, the weight of the conversation still lingering in the air.

The gods watched him leave, each of them reflecting on the words that had been exchanged, and the truth that had been laid bare.

Zeus's voice echoed in the chamber, commanding attention. "It's good for you to know your origin now," he began, his eyes narrowing. "Let me explain something important to you, Alexander. During World War II, a prophecy was issued by Apollo. A prophecy concerning you. It stated that a child with your power would be born, and that this child would have a vital role to play. You will need to go to Camp Half-Blood and join forces with the other demigods to fulfill this destiny."

Alexander stood tall, his face showing no hint of fear. "I don't want to. I value my freedom. Recently, I decided to travel the world, to see new places and live life on my own terms. Artemis and I realized I shouldn't be confined to the forest anymore."

Zeus's voice thundered across the chamber, a mix of anger and disbelief. "Alexander Ignis, how dare you defy us, the gods?"

Alexander stepped forward, his eyes locked with Zeus's, unwavering. "Gods? Is that what you call yourselves?" he asked, his tone sharp and defiant. "I see beings with immortality and power, but don't call yourselves gods just because you are above everyone else. You may have power, but that doesn't make you any more than what you are—beings of immense strength and arrogance."

A silence fell over the room as the gods looked at Alexander, some stunned by his audacity, others growing visibly angry. But Alexander stood firm, his resolve clear.

Ares snarled, his voice full of fury. "How dare you disrespect us? We deserve respect!"

Alexander didn't flinch, his eyes narrowing with conviction. "Respect isn't something you just demand," he replied coolly. "It's earned. If you think being a god automatically makes you worthy of my respect, then you're quite stupid." He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the assembled gods. "The only people I respect in this assembly are Lord Hades, Lady Hestia, Lord Apollo, and Artemis—my friend."

A tense silence followed, as the gods processed Alexander's bold declaration. Some bristled with anger, others exchanged looks of confusion, but one thing was certain—Alexander had made his stance clear.