Fireside

Hestia

Author's Note

While this part is technically the anthology's last short story, it actually happens before the events portrayed in Hebe. Placing it last was a personal decision, because I really wanted to end the book with the main character's name in the title. I'd also like to use this area to say thank you to everyone who stuck around for Fireside's completion.

Writing Fireside has been a wild adventure, with updates having to be moved here and there because of so many unforeseen circumstances throughout the year. So thank you very much for your kindness, understanding and unwavering interest. It helped so much in pushing me to complete this collection despite all odds. I appreciated every comment and reaction you threw my way, and hope that you enjoyed the time you spent with these formidable icons of classic literature. Until the next project, and please have a great time reading the part for Hestia.

Hestia

There was no rest for his soul, that much he knew. The goddess that fetched him from his burning pyre, and those that welcomed him when he first stepped onto Olympus, assured him that he would find respite from his tragic life at last. However, it had been weeks now, and their promise had not yet been fulfilled.

Granted, he was now uninvolved in the conflicts that pervaded his new home, but he couldn't turn a blind eye to those concerned either. Seeing one god or another seeking vengeance for a transgression, either by a fellow deity or a mortal below, only brought back horrid memories from his former existence. It was no wonder that he often sought refuge from their madness by taking long walks on paths which led away from the most prominent pillars.

I should have gone to the underworld to be with my sons. With Megara. To suffer with my wife, Deianira. To face the wrath of those I have harmed. I shouldn't have been brought here.

These were the thoughts crowding his mind as he meandered through fields of lily and crocus. The flowers greeted him by nodding their heads in the breeze, but Heracles paid them no attention. So absorbed was he in the melancholy he always seemed to feel, that he barely often noticed how much time had passed or what surrounded him.

It wasn't until a shadow came over his person that he realized he was in another part of Olympus, one he hadn't been to before.

Heracles lifted his head in order to see just what had cast its shade around him, and was surprised by the gazebo-like structure that stood close by. It had a dome-shaped roof and tall, thick columns spaced evenly between large glass windows reflecting the afternoon light. A massive, double-paneled door, engraved with vined leaves and gilded in gold, stood slightly ajar and granted him a peek at what lay beyond.

He could see the burning embers of a hearth from where he stood, and for the first time in a long while, his curiosity was roused. Nobody had told him that another pillar existed all the way out here. Considering the other gods' habits and fondness for socialization, it never occurred to him that one of them would prefer the isolation which distance afforded.

Heracles wanted to step forward and push against one of the half-open panels. He was somewhat eager to know the identity of this hermit-like god. The problem was, he did not need a new deity bestowing him with another twelve trials for trespassing onto private property.

It was thus a relief when the words that greeted him turned out to be, "Please. Come inside."

The demigod turned his head sharply, surprised that it was a female who had greeted him and invited him to enter.