The Mortal World

Winged boats carry the chosen Olympians down from Mount Olympus. Each boat carries a single Olympian in different directions, some to the mountain base rivers, others much farther.

The clouds keep Calista close to the city, though her mind focuses only on the approaching view.

Far beyond the glimmering waters and drifting trees are desolate plains. 10 years ago, in the war that killed the gods of Olympus, the areas of the mortal world used for the battles were disseminated. Since then, little recovery has been done, some areas even worsen.

The reason for the war is often debated, but each side fears another. Calista hopes to prevent such conflict by taking a seat. She must, else the growing tensions return a time of disaster.

“I should visit the graveyard to pay my respect. What do you say?” Calista taps the boat though it doesn’t change course. “Well, perhaps if the chance arises.”

Calista arrives at the shores of the main city under Mount Olympus, Dion. Believed to be the most prosperous and largest city on the planet, Dion is a sanctuary of mortals. It was rebuilt within months after the war and expanded from there; a testament to the tenacity of mortals, but also to the growing ideas straying away from the gods of Olympus.

Calista watches as other chosen are already hard at work at the shores of Dion. All strive for the honor of taking a seat, but they also bear confusion on what they must to gain the privilege.

“I must become one.” Calista walks onto the pier, lost in thought and ignorant to the awing eyes following her.

The olds gods were powerful and wise but not without their issues. Still, they were important and have left a longing impact on us and the mortals. Perhaps that is it, I must have an effect. But on what?

“Lousy Olympian!”

Brought back to the pier, Calista turns to the commotion on the pier.

An Olympian kneels as he holds a wound near his stomach, the man standing above him wielding a bloodied sword.

“You lot only come for your own selfish desires. Not one of you has any care for us. And, I’d say, we have no need for you anymore.” The man raises his blade, stopped only by Theodoros who grabs his wrist.

“Your anger, justified as it may be, should not blind your judgment.”

“I’m sound, Olympian, you lot watched as we died. No, you held the blade yourself.”

“A grave mistake, never to be repeated if I have my say. But I ask that you do not incite something that would bring our worlds closer to war once more.”

The man calms himself and sheathes his blade. He leaves without an apology, agreeing to prevent any increase of tension, but never to a harmonic coexistence.

“Are you alright?” Calista helps the Olympian stop the bleeding.

“I am. But this is it for me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why do we have to be gods for these ungrateful mortals. Why must we suffer for them and their inadequacies. They can’t even see past a grudge. I want no part of this.”

“Wait, don’t say it!”

“I will never be a god.”

As the words leave his mouth, the Olympian is wrapped in bright light. Such a declaration could never come from a god, such abandonment of dreams never to be allowed near the Abode of Gods. It is the sacrifice of such honor; often seen as a disgrace, but to some it is a new peace.

Theodoros approaches Calista after the young Olympian leaves. “Don’t worry about him, he accepted such fate.”

“I agree, but will our relationship with mortals only continue to worsen?”

“Not if the most beautiful Olympian has a say about it. You’re welcome to try and help as well.” Theodoros glinting smile annoys Calista, but it such confidence that inspires, and such words that will be a reason for repairing the severed relationship.

“I must, for the poor mortals will suffer endlessly if I leave them alone with you.”

“Haha, Calista, best of luck.”

“And to you, Theodoros.”

The Olympians part ways, Calista walking for the city. Now aware of her surroundings, Calista is able to interact with mortals willing to interact with Olympians. Many speak of her kindness and beauty, though some are still wary about the future.

Their worries have merit, Dion is far from what Calista believed. The outskirts of Dion face growing poverty as a flood of newcomers are only allowed in such areas. The rise of crime is unavoidable, and strife between the newcomers and natives of Dion threaten to spark battles.

“The world will end soon!” An older man yells in the outskirts of Dion. “The fall of the gods was only the start! Olympians abandon us! Titans will return to enact their revenge and begin with us!”

The mortals around the man attempt to ignore him; however, his words, and the dire circumstances they find themselves in, do allow fear to grow within their hearts.

“Why have we been forsaken?! Why did we follow the false prophets?!”

Calista steps towards the man but hesitates. What can she say? Would it even have an effect? Such doubt leaves her stunned only steps away from the man, allowing another to take the necessary step instead.

“Mistakes of the past are no reason to give into hopelessness today.” Helen garbs the hands of the old man, silencing him with her touch as her group of followers keep others from approaching them. “I know you have lost faith in the Olympians, but I have arrived now. It is my duty to prevent such tragedy from occurring.”

“You… you lie. As you abandoned and betrayed us once, as I witnessed, this world’s fate is set.”

“A belief you have every right to. But the gods were once infallible were they not? Once believed right and irreplaceable, but each of those beliefs has been proven wrong by the efforts of others. By your effort. So, I ask, that you once again believe. I, a chosen, will take a seat to change the path the world steers for. I need only your belief.”

A large group stops and stares as Helen brings the man closer, her touch calming and her eyes entrancing.

“Y-you can do it?”

“Not alone of course. I will need those brave enough to scream for the world they want, those such as yourself.”

“Yes! Save our world! I see it in your eyes. It is possible.”

“Of course! Is that not want you want?” Helen turns to everyone watching. “All I ask is that you believe. And soon hope will return to you as it has to this one.”

The skeptical murmuring changes with each passing moment as Helen speaks to the surrounding group. Ideas of hope are born, the ability to wish for better days no longer a fool’s dream. All brought by Helen’s influence.

Calista bites her lip. She accepts Helen’s success, but accepting that she would not have had a similar effect is difficult to do.

Ever frustrated, Calista leaves. If I cannot do as she does, then I will simply improve. The seat must be mine.

Days pass. Word of the Olympian group that arrived and their actions spread. Many mortals still doubt the Olympians will have a positive effect on the worst of their world, many still bear hatred. But there are believers.

Helen and Theodoros are names that reach Calista’s ears often. Their confidence unfaltering, the past few days have been of great success for the two as they seek to grow their names in the mortal realm. Helen bringing inspiration and the desire to experience life, Theodoros the confidence to fight for life.

Helen has even made a promise to create peace with other settlements and has been given a large group for soldiers for the task. Even amongst other successful Olympians, she takes the lead as the one with most influence in their short time since arriving.

Calista has focused on doing research for how she can have a positive effect on the mortal world but has failed to find anything substantial or within her abilities.

She watches the people of the city rush around in the evening. Resting and hoping that an idea will fall on her lap. The stares of admiration are common for her even on Mount Olympus, but she fails to make use of her gift. Despite her efforts, her mind remains blank.

“Perhaps medicine?” Calista writes in her notebook.

Full of ideas she wrote before the day of the journey, quivering hands make the new entry a scribble. Many of the ideas are far beyond her scope of expertise, the confidence as she wrote the first entries something she mocks herself for.

Many of the ideas require talent far beyond her own. That of someone like Atalanta who has helped mortals by aiding in hunts against dangerous animals and giving advice on caring for livestock.

Calista can only stare at her book. “Enough. I do not belong here.”

Closing her book, Calista makes way for her boat. Her dreams for a seat in the abode of gods now a distant one.