Cyd knelt on the rocky ground, his stomach churning violently as he struggled to keep himself together. The white horse nudged his head gently with its hoof.
"Just a bit more…" Cyd muttered weakly, trying to steady himself.
"I'm here," the horse seemed to say with its reassuring nudge.
"I'm fine, just a little dizzy," Cyd replied, waving his hand dismissively, though it felt like the wind might sweep him away. The journey had been long, and the white horse had supported him every step of the way.
After a moment, Cyd gathered his strength and stood, using the rock wall for support. His gaze finally settled on the distant cluster of rocks where Prometheus was chained.
"Where is Prometheus?" Cyd asked quietly, concern creeping into his voice as he turned to the horse.
The horse blinked solemnly and nodded toward the rocks, indicating the Titan.
"You're quite the guide," Cyd murmured, acknowledging the horse's silent navigation skills. Even without its help, he could see Prometheus clearly, gazing expectantly toward the sky.
Cyd had hoped the white horse would leave him farther from Prometheus, but instead, it had brought him right to the Titan's side.
"Well, here I am," he said, patting the horse's mane. "You should head back now. This place isn't as comfortable as the sea god's realm. I'll manage from here."
The horse blinked again and nudged Cyd gently toward Prometheus, urging him forward.
Despite reaching his destination, Cyd hesitated. "It's midday; Zeus's eagle will be here soon," he thought anxiously. The eagle, a symbol of Zeus, tormented Prometheus daily. Only Heracles had dared to challenge the eagle and temporarily free Prometheus from his chains.
As a mere mortal, Cyd felt the weight of his doubt. Zeus wouldn't take kindly to his interference and might retaliate with fury.
"Come closer, child. The eagle won't arrive today," Prometheus called out suddenly, his voice calm and reassuring.
Cyd's fear softened slightly at the Titan's tranquil demeanor. There was an inexplicable trust that began to form within him.
"Really?" Cyd asked cautiously, torn between wanting to believe Prometheus and fearing what he might witness. The vivid image of the eagle tearing into Prometheus's flesh flashed through his mind.
"Come closer. It's been ages since I've had company," Prometheus urged gently. "Don't worry; I won't harm you. All humans are my children."
"I understand. Your imprisonment here speaks volumes," Cyd replied solemnly, taking cautious steps toward Prometheus until he stood before the chained Titan.
Prometheus, who had shaped humanity in his likeness, had defied Zeus for their sake. He stole fire to grant them warmth and nourishment, a deed that led to his eternal punishment on the Caucasus Mountains.
"What is it that you seek from me, my child?" Prometheus asked, his voice soft despite the iron chains binding him.
"I... I just want a peaceful life," Cyd confessed slowly, uncertainty lacing his words.
It was a modest request: to live quietly and peacefully, free from extraordinary suffering or overwhelming glory. To live and die ordinarily, without regrets or unnecessary strife.
"An ordinary life?" Prometheus's expression softened, surprise flickering in his eyes. No one among the gods had ever made such a simple request.
"Yes. I don't seek a life free from worry. In a world filled with war and calamity, I just want an ordinary existence," Cyd explained, his gaze distant.
Disaster, conflict, and adventure might be ordinary for the people of this world, but not for him. On that island, he could have lived carefree, but that wasn't the life he desired. Entangling himself with Atalanta or Artemis might lead to a path of constant danger.
"You are the first to ask such a question," Prometheus said with a bittersweet smile. "Had you asked how to become a hero, I could have given you an immediate answer. But…"
"Living an ordinary life is a challenge in itself," Cyd shrugged. "Everyone's definition of 'ordinary' varies."
"Are you not tempted by the allure of heroism?" Prometheus inquired, blinking in curiosity. "The essence of being a hero remains constant."
"To you, humanity is your children, right?" Cyd looked down at his pale hands. "Have you noticed that your children often slaughter one another?"
Prometheus's expression grew grave.
"A hero is born to fulfill the desires of the people, to wield a sword against calamity," Cyd continued with a self-deprecating smile. "But heroes are also human. They cannot satisfy everyone, let alone themselves."
"Glory, women, wealth—these are the requisites of a hero. Yet in this world or any other, they are most swiftly obtained through war. To appease the hero, the dignity and lives of others must often be trampled upon. While I may admire heroes, I have no desire to become one."
"I simply wish to live an ordinary life and then pass quietly from this world."
"God of Wisdom, Prometheus, I beseech you to hear my plea and guide me."