Chapter Seventeen

## Seventeen

The Chain of Ascension sparked and rumbled as immense essence was funneled down. A rift tore through the fabric of reality as the essence reached the chain's anchor. Ares and Aphrodite stepped out from inside this schism, with Hephaestus limping two steps behind, examining Hermes' caduceus. "You know," he said, rubbing some dirt off the rod's polished exterior. "I think Athena was overly worried. This thing doesn't seem all that broken at," he said as he stowed it on his belt.

 "Great," said Aphrodite, suggesting she had no idea what her husband was rambling about. "What's this?" she asked as she and Ares came to a halt. "Is something the matter?"

 Standing before the three gods was the Spartan pontifex, Jocasta. Behind her was the grand altar, and on it, she had collected several items, waiting to show the gods. The temple itself was cold and dim, with no occupants in sight other than two templars stationed on the far end of the temple, guarding the door. "Apologies, but I need a word."

 "The temple is shut down?" asked Ares.

 Jocasta nodded.

 "On whose order?"

 "Mine," said Jocasta, who looked to her side and gave the nod.

 A priest from the shadows stepped up with a Key of Ascension and placed it against the anchor, closing the rift. Hephaestus glanced at this man curiously, and when they made eye contact, the priest immediately broke it and retreated into the shadows. "This does not feel right," he said aloud.

 "No," replied Jocasta. "It does not. This whole situation is wrong."

 Ares looked, his lip snarled. "What do you mean?"

 Jocasta stepped aside and waved her hand over the altar. "Evidence we retrieved from the attack earlier. A pair of goggles, a leather cap, and a scarf. All of these bore ichor stains and were considerably damaged. We also recovered this from Athena," said Jocasta, taking a hexagonal, palm-sized contraption from the altar and laying it in Ares' hand. Ares quickly passed it on to his more technically savvy brother.

 "What is it?" asked Ares.

 "We don't know," said Jocasta. "It looks like a sophisticated piece of clockwork, but it has crystallized essence inside. She had it on her divinity when the templars were poised to arrest her... but Olympus intervened."

 "It's a miniature Talos lens," said Hephaestus, needing only a moment to assess it. "This one has been fitted with... a corrupted essence shard."

 Aphrodite held her hand out to inspect the device, and her husband complied with her silent request to satisfy her curiosity. "Why would anyone use such? Aren't those toxic?"

 "To a mortal," Jocasta nodded, "when my men opened it up to see what was inside the brief exposure blinded him and caused hideous scales to form on his face. Luckily for us, he dropped it and the contraption closed on itself in the drop."

 "So it is a weapon," said Ares, stroking his chin.

 Hephaestus scoffed, sidling up to Aphrodite and tapping his meaty finger on a latch that exposed a gossamer viewing window. "Look inside," he said.

 Aphrodite raised the contraption so she and Ares could view the crystal containment unit. "It's such a pretty gem."

 "It's awfully small," groaned Ares. "Much smaller than any crystal I've seen used in a Talos lens, even the carbine-sized lenses require a crystal the size of my fist."

 Hephaestus nodded. "Not to mention a backpack for the clockwork."

 "Are you saying someone built something that you couldn't?" Aphrodite asked her tone somewhere between shock and ridicule.

 "No," glowered Hephaestus. "I could make this… In fact, I think I might have."

 "You built this?" asked Ares.

 "Possibly," Hephaestus said with a groan. "Hundreds of years ago. But I do not see my mark on it, which means I never meant it to be used. It was a prototype. Most likely shelved. I certainly did not use a corrupted shard with it. That is someone's doing."

 "To what end?" asked Aphrodite.

 Hephaestus shrugged. "It could be a weapon, but it would have abysmal range."

 "How short are we talking?" asked Ares.

 Hephaestus pointed to the three pads on the opposite end of where the handgrip was. "Those are pressure plates surrounding the discharger. Its range is immediate. Contact."

 Ares took the device and palmed it. Then, he took a few practiced palm strikes at a nonexistent target and shook his head. "I would rather punch someone," he admitted, then opened his hand to examine it further. "So if I did strike someone with it… what would happen?"

 Hephaestus could not help but notice Jocasta take a half-step in the opposite direction as Ares. Hephaestus side-stepped between the mortal priestess and his brother, doing the pontifex a favor. "I suppose that would depend on where you struck them. Corrupted essence is hard to predict, but if you struck them in the head, you'd probably cause their mind to be ravaged by insanity… or turn into plant-matter. If you struck them in the stomach, you'd probably cause the food inside to rot or turn to acid. If your blow found the heart, it would definitely-" Hephaestus paused and looked at Ares. "Hermes and Athena mentioned that the Athenian officer in our burial chamber had her heart defiled without it being removed?"

 "Indeed," said Aphrodite as she sighed, quickly becoming bored with this conversation.

 Nodding, Ares removed the device from his hand and set it aside, carefully placing it on the altar.

 "That," Hephaestus said, pointing to the contraption, "is how they did it. They pumped corrupted essence right into her heart, contaminating it without the need for removal."

 "But if simple exposure caused my man to grow scales, wouldn't direct contact with a focused discharge of such energy leave a burn or something?" asked Jocasta.

 "If I actually designed this, I would have installed an apportation coil to prevent the unit from being exposed to its own discharge," Hephaestus explained as if anyone else knew what he was talking about. Then, receiving clueless glances, he sighed and clarified. "There's a piece of equipment in that that takes the discharge and actually projects it a few inches from the discharger."

 There was a loud crackle from the Chain of Ascension.

 "Expecting company?" Jocasta asked.

 Ares and Aphrodite were both clueless, judging by their expression.

 Hephaestus let out a long sigh as the rift began to form. "It's Asclepius," he reminded them of Zeus' order for an autopsy to be performed on the dead officer. Then, as the rift opened and out stepped the Divine Surgeon, Hephaestus smiled at being proven correct.

 Asclepius carried a doctor's bag at his side as he stepped through the portal, summoning the priest to return from the shadows to close the gate. "Greetings, uncles... Aphrodite, always a pleasure," he said with courteous nods to each of them. "If someone would lead me to wherever it is I need to be, I would do my best to not disrupt-" he paused to lean, looking beyond the gods and the altar to see the dark, deserted temple, "... anything," he concluded in a somber tone. "Wow, Sparta has a curfew I don't know about?"

 "We had an incident," said Jocasta, motioning her head as she began to walk away. "Follow me, Vejovis."

 Asclepius kept his feet planted for a moment and then suddenly let out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, right. Vejovis… That's my Imperial name! Of course," he said with a shake of his head and a silly sigh. "Right," he said as he followed the pontifex.

 With the physician and the priestess having left them, Aphrodite let out a long sigh and placed her arms over the brothers' shoulders. "It has been a long and dreadfully boring day. How about we all wind down with a nice hot Nektar bath."

 Ares smiled lasciviously as Hephaestus offered a quaint grin.

 "How about you get it started for us," said Hephaestus, causing a sudden shift in Ares' expression. "I need to speak with my brother for a moment," he explained.

 "Fine. But do not take too long or I may start the real fun without you," Aphrodite smiled and giggled before letting out a long sigh as she turned to walk away. She paused to examine the priest holding the Ascension Key as she departed them. Aphrodite pulled down the priest's hood. When the goddess saw no chalice marking, she giggled with delight and clutched the young man's collar, dragging him behind her as he shuffled awkwardly to keep up. "I'm going to make you happy you joined the clergy, boy," she said as she disappeared from sight.

 Hephaestus was happy to see his wife depart with a pleased tone on her lips. But, as he turned around to return his attention to his brother, he doubted Ares' following words would sound half as pleased as hers. "We need to discuss the armor."

 "What about it?" asked Ares, glowering. "You heard father. Hostilities end."

 "Do I continue with the development then?" Hephaestus asked in hushed tones, drawing a stack of papers from a pouch on his toolbelt. "Or would you have me burn these?" he asked, fluttering the schematics in front of his brother.

 "Are you mad?" asked Ares before chuckling. "Brother... This situation may have been a bust, but Athens will afford us an opportunity in the future. We continue development."

 Hephaestus let out a long sigh. "I was hopeful that this might be a moment for you and Athena, as well as the Imperial and Republican nations to turn the page and start a new chapter in your history."

 "Metus was bombed," said Ares, snatching the schematics and shaking them in his clenched fist to emphasize his point. "By an Athenian warship. The Imperial citizenry will not let this pass. Even it were the act of separatists."

 "Heretics-" Hephaestus attempted to correct his brother.

 "The Spartan narrative is those were Athenian separatists," Ares said with a glare that took Hephaestus back. "The corpses recovered were Athenian military. That will be confirmed in time, brother. We will use this narrative as it furthers the Imperial cause down the road."

 "It's… It's deception, though," said Hephaestus with a disappointed glance at his brother. "It's not just warmongering, it's… It's fear-mongering. You're stoking flames of hate when this fear can be extinguished with the truth... if only you allow it."

 Ares let out a loud chuckle as he slid the schematics into the interior pocket of his jacket. "Outrageous! Listen to yourself, brother. You sound like an silly Athenian," Ares said with a hearty laugh as he began to stroll away. "Flames of hate!" Ares bellowed as he walked away, still chuckling.

 As Ares disappeared down the hall, already halfway undressed, Hephaestus limped up to the altar. It had been mostly obscured by Ares and Aphrodite during the earlier conversation, and now he was free to examine it more closely. Hephaestus grabbed the Talos lens and eyed it for a moment longer. Then, nodding, he tucked it into a large pouch on his tool belt. He then glanced at the other items on the altar and limped away, only to stumble a few steps away from the altar when his brace stuck.

 Groaning, Hephaestus took a moment to grab a lubricant dropper from his tool belt. Then, knowing exactly how to remedy this problem, he administered the lubricant with the precision dropper to the mechanism. Two drops, and the catch was fixed. As Hephaestus placed the dropper away on his belt, he again looked at the altar and had an epiphany. He picked up the leather cap and the goggles, then assembled them together on the altar.

 "It's an aviator's cap," he said, scratching his scruffy cheek. Hephaestus snatched the scarf up to examine it. It was nearly destroyed. The ichor burns on it nearly turned it to ash. Still, through exacting examination and light scratching of the scorch markings, Hephaestus was able to find several colored threads that had survived the burn. He limped over to a lantern and held the threads up for inspection. He smiled with delight and quickly returned to the altar with a quickened, limping stride. Hephaestus snatched all the gear up and shoved them in his tool belt pouch. He then ventured down the hall where Ares and Aphrodite had disappeared.

 Hephaestus applied more lubricant to his brace outside the bath hall and then did the same to the door's hinges. Once done, he slowly opened the door and saw Ares lowering himself into the oversized bath of Nektar while Aphrodite was personally doing the honors of initiating the priest into the order of Chalicers through intimate baptism in Nektar.

 Hephaestus ignored that and slowly moved toward a bench at the bath perimeter where his brother's clothing was piled. He slipped his hand into the pile and cautiously withdrew the schematics from Ares' jacket. He eased away with those in his possession once more and glanced up. That was when he saw Aphrodite's eyes were on him. Ares and the priest were oblivious to his presence, both occupied with the goddess' naked body.

 Locked in eye contact with his wife, Hephaestus froze in place. Her gaze signaled a strange curiosity, but all Hephaestus could think to do was raise a thick finger and place it over his lips. He had to hope she would understand and honor his wishes.

 Giving the slightest of nods and giggling as she then proceeded to tease her audience with some improvised sensual movement, Aphrodite covered for her husband. Her splashing in the bath caused more than enough commotion that he was able to quicken his pace out of the chamber.

 Limping down the hall, in an awkward flee, Hephaestus reflected on how mortals and many of the gods never understood the relationship he and his wife had. Hephaestus always loved the pursuit of creation, and Aphrodite always loved sexual exploits. The first time they had shared a bed, Aphrodite's powers bore his soul to her, and she understood his needs and desires better than any other could. After that, however, it took them some time to acclimate to their differences.

 While Aphrodite had many consorts that she would lust after her, Hephaestus liked to think that his marriage to her after thousands of years meant he was the only consort she actually loved. He may have been jesting himself, he realized that, but it was what Hephaestus felt in his heart and what he needed to believe. If he could not believe that, he wondered if he would be able to ever love another person again.

 Yes, Aphrodite spent more time with Ares than she did her own husband. Hephaestus was under no illusion about that. The pair did not even bother to hide it anymore, nor did he work to sabotage their relationship. He had exposed them thousands of years ago, but he learned just how pointless his efforts were.

 In time, Hephaestus realized that Aphrodite and Ares kept each other sane. If Aphrodite did not make Ares feel like he was loved and worth something, the god would have lost himself to a bloodletting rage millennia ago. Likewise, if Ares did not give Aphrodite the constant attention she craved and fall prey to her seductions so quickly, she'd have never been satisfied with her marriage to Hephaestus and would likely begin to doubt her appeal.

 Removing the caduceus from his belt, Hephaestus approached the anchor. He looked down at the rod as the gate opened and contorted his face.

 "Forgive me, but doesn't that staff belong to your brother?" asked a templar, a middle-aged woman with a familiar face but whose name escaped the god at the moment.

 Hephaestus turned to face the priestess he had not seen standing in the shadows on a pew, reading from scripture. With a slow nod, he raised a hand and motioned her closer. As she did, he spoke in hushed tones. "You know my brother Hermes?" he asked, then paused to shake his head. "Mercury?"

 She nodded.

 "You have seen him before?"

 She nodded. "Yes, he comes through here often, Heph."

 Hephaestus paused. It was unusual for him to be addressed so casually among the clergy and never by that name in Sparta. He opened his mouth to speak but could not find the words he sought.

 The priestess raised a headband she wore over her brow, revealing her chalice mark. "Ten years ago, you told me to call you that," she smiled. "When you spared my life..."

 Hephaestus recalled her face now. "That is right," he said, nodding. "I am sorry, I-"

 She shook her head. "No apology needed, Heph. I understand that while I will never forget the kindness you bestowed upon me, I am just one of many faces you have shown such mercy."

 Hephaestus bit his lip and nodded. He felt awful as he recalled the circumstances that brought her to the clergy. It had been a necessary cleansing, but she had been an innocent bystander. The gods had ruined her life, yet she thanked them for it.

 "But, you asked about your brother?" Cora asked, trying to get the god back on track.

 "Uh... Yes," he said, extending the relic to her. "When I step through the rift, I need you to touch this to the anchor."

 With wide open eyes, she seemed astonished that the god would offer her the sacred caduceus. "My grace, I-" she paused and chuckled. "Heph, I cannot- I-"

 "It would be a chance for you to return the favor," he smiled as he tipped his hat. "If my brother shows up looking for me or for that, be sure he gets it," he said as he walked back into the portal and waved farewell to the priestess.

 When the rift closed with a crackle, Hephaestus reached into the toolbelt and extracted the plans for a sophisticated piece of technology. "Sound like an Athenian, do I, brother? Let's see if the Athenians think I sound like a Spartan when I give them this..."

## Characters

### Gods

* Ares
* Aphrodite
* Hephaestus

## Notes and Trivia

* The Priestess was the Bartender from the short story Blood Brothers.