The God of Clay and Fennel Fire: A Retelling of The Golden Goose

Chapter IV: A Worse Enemy

"Get out."

Epimetheus looked down at his feet. "I'm not in even in yet."

Prometheus stood up from his stool and walked to the door. "What do you want?" he growled.

"Just wondering what Zeus wanted."

"How did you know I went to see him?"

"Iris thinks everything is a secret to tell."

Prometheus rolled his eyes. "He didn't want anything. I needed something from him."

"You went to see Zeus? On your own accord?"

"Not really. Gaia made me do it." He returned to his stool. Epimetheus followed him inside. He took a seat on the bed, just out of Prometheus' peripheral vision.

"What did you need from him?"

"Gifts. Blessings.Turns out Gaia is all out. You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?"

Epimetheus frowned. His face turned red. "I may have had something to do with that."

Prometheus turned to face his younger brother. "What were you thinking? Or were you even thinking at all?"

Epimetheus got up and began pacing the room. His brow was heavy and his auburn curls bounced with every step. "I didn't mean for it to happen!"

Prometheus was happy to see the regret in his brother's eyes. Far too often, Epimetheus didn't even acknowledge his own mistakes.

"I just got carried away!"

"You specifically asked her for all the gifts."

"I thought she'd be able to give you more!"

"Oh, so you were thinking. Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better."

Epimetheus stopped pacing. His arms fell at his sides. "But you're not trying to kill me at the moment, so you must be feeling somewhat better. Did Zeus offer you any gifts?"

"He offered me something, but it definitely wasn't a blessing. Even if he had, I wouldn't have taken it. Zeus' gifts are always curses. Remember that, Epimetheus: Never accept a gift from Zeus. It will come back to hurt you."

Epimetheus rolled his eyes.

"Promise me, Epimetheus. It's the least you can do after you stole all the gifts."

"I said I was sorry. That should be enough."

"Well, It doesn't matter."

Epimetheus froze, his brow furrowed. "It doesn't matter?"

"No. It doesn't."

Epimetheus pulled up a stool and sat down in front of his brother. His eyes were narrow, sceptical. "Why? You're not planning to steal something to make up for it, are you?"

Prometheus grinned joylessly. "Not necessarily. But my people still have access to the gifts. They just have to go and take them."

Epimetheus frowned, but he was still confused.

"Your wolves have warm fur. My men will hunt and kill them and use the fur for themselves. Your bears have large claws and strong bones. My men will use them for tools and weapons." He smirked. "Don't worry, Epimetheus, about my men. They'll survive."

Epimetheus shook his head. "You wouldn't."

"I would. And in fact, some of my men already have. Oh, don't look so disgusted! Your own creations have done the same thing to each other!"