The Prometheus Spark

They gathered around the fire again. Morning light spilled across the stone floor of Hestia's sanctuary, but no one spoke at first.

Kevin sat cross-legged, another stack of charcoal drawings in front of him—fresh ones. More chains. A bone door. The same canyon, again and again. A girl's face. Selene's face.

The fire cracked. Colton glanced at Kevin, then at Apollo, who was still trying to piece together everything Kevin had said about the vision.

"We can't just sit here," Colton said. "If Hercules is out there—"

"We don't even know where 'out there' is," Apollo cut in. "And we still don't know who's lying. Hermes might be telling the truth."

Kevin's voice cut through the rising tension. "He's not."

Apollo turned to him, startled. "Excuse me?"

Kevin met his gaze. "Hermes isn't telling the truth. I saw it. Or maybe I felt it. But what I saw last night—Selene didn't trust him. Not fully. And she was right not to."

The room went still.

Colton looked between them, his voice steady. "Then we can't take anything Hermes says at face value."

Apollo didn't argue. Instead, he let out a long breath and turned toward the door. "We'll settle it later. Come on. Training's overdue."

The courtyard outside the sanctuary was wide and flat, with a worn dueling circle etched into the stone. Apollo stood at the far end, arms crossed.

"You've gotten comfortable with the solar blast," he said. "Good. Now it's time for something more dangerous."

He raised a hand toward a stone pillar and closed his fingers into a fist. A thin, concentrated beam of golden light blasted from his palm, striking the pillar with surgical precision. The top half crumbled.

"Focused," Apollo said. "Tighter, hotter, and far more destructive. But the cooldown is longer—and it leaves you exposed while you charge it."

Colton stepped into the circle. "Alright. Let's see if I can do it."

He concentrated, pushing the solar fire down into a narrow line in his palm. Heat shimmered along his arm. The beam fired—wobbly, but powerful—and seared a deep groove into the earth.

"Not bad," Apollo said. "Again."

By the fourth attempt, Colton was drenched in sweat and grinning through it.

"You're a fast learner," Apollo said. "But remember—power makes you a target. And the gods are watching now."

Colton nodded, wiping his brow. "Then let them watch."

Back inside, Kevin was still by the fire. His hands were dark with charcoal smudges, but he hadn't drawn another line.

"Are you okay?" Colton asked quietly.

Kevin didn't look up. "I don't know what's real anymore. Those drawings… I don't remember making some of them. But I look at them, and I *know* what they mean."

Apollo stepped closer. "It's like something's using you."

Kevin gave a weak laugh. "Or maybe I'm just cracked. Dragged to the Underworld and now I'm hearing ghosts."

He touched a drawing of Selene again, tracing the curve of her face. "She wasn't afraid. Even when Hermes tried to twist her mind. She still believed she could win."

The fire flared, almost as if in response. All eyes turned to it—and to the woman sitting beside it.

Hestia hadn't spoken since their return.

"Why haven't you said anything?" Colton asked.

She looked up, warm eyes catching the light. "Because it wasn't my place."

She reached out and stirred the fire with a blackened iron rod. "I am not a goddess of war, or prophecy. I protect the hearth. The home. The people who return to it. And I've been doing my job."

She let the flames settle.

"I don't speak when the fire is still catching. But now…" She lifted her chin slightly, eyes darkening. "The flames are climbing. And I smell something ancient on the wind."

Hestia leaned closer to the fire. "For centuries I've kept this place safe. It is the one place Olympus does not taint with its politics. You boys have walked into something far older than yourselves."

Colton sat forward. "Then help us understand it."

She sighed. "There hasn't been a spark-bearer in a thousand years. That fire you carry, Colton—it's not just power. It's a thread in the weave of fate. And something's pulling at it."

Her voice dropped. "Cronus doesn't need to escape to break the world. He only needs enough people to lose their way. Doubt, betrayal, fear—those are the cracks he crawls through."

As she finished speaking, her eyes flicked toward the far wall. Her head tilted slightly, as if she heard something no one else did.

Then came the gust.

The wind outside slammed through the cracks in the stone, scattering old ash across the floor. The fire bent low, nearly extinguishing.

Apollo stood quickly. "That's not a normal gust."

Hestia's gaze lingered toward the courtyard. "No. It isn't."

No one said it, but they all felt the same thing. The sense of being watched.

Kevin looked up slowly. "He was listening," he said. "Hermes."

Colton's jaw tightened. "You think he was spying on us?"

"I can't prove it," Kevin said. "But it felt like his laughter. Not out loud. In my head."

Apollo turned back toward the fire. "Even if we believe Kevin… we still don't know where Hercules is."

Kevin raised a finger. "I do." He reached out, tapping one of the drawings. "Here."

Apollo leaned in. His breath caught. "That's—"

"You recognize it?" Colton asked.

Apollo nodded slowly. "It's not in the Underworld. That place… it's real. A canyon, far beyond the mortal lands. A place the gods don't speak of anymore."

Kevin's breath hitched. His hand trembled above the paper, like the memory of the vision still lingered on his skin.

"I didn't draw it," he whispered. "Not exactly. It was already in my head. I just… let it out."

Colton crouched beside him, searching his face. "You're sure this is the place?"

Kevin nodded. "I didn't know what it was when I drew it. But now? It feels like it's pulling at me. Like it wants to be found."

Apollo looked to Hestia. "That canyon… if Hercules is there, he's been left to rot for centuries."

"No," Kevin said quietly. "He's not rotting. He's waiting."

"Then that's where we go," Colton said.

Apollo didn't object. He just looked into the fire again, eyes unreadable.