Awakening from Oblivion

In the depths of a void where time held no sway, a realm known only as Oblivion existed—a prison for the fallen, the forgotten, and the forsaken. Here, the echoes of heroes and demigods drifted through a dark expanse, their legacies reduced to whispers. Each figure of greatness was confined to a unique space, an eternal reminder of their past glories and failures.

Time held little meaning in Oblivion,and Narcissus had grown accustomed to his solitude. Yet, sometimes, flashes of other figures would break the stillness of his thoughts. He would catch glimpses of his neighbor, his determined eyes scanning the horizon as he led his troops across vast plains. Commands rang out, filled with ambition and purpose, but the air remained thick with frustration. No matter how fervently he urged his men onward, they were all bound to their spaces, unable to escape the confines of Oblivion.

Another figure, less boisterous, sat quietly on a rock, staring out at an endless sea. Narcissus, forever entranced by his own reflection, had once been a hunter. For a thousand years, he roamed his space, chasing the same deer and drinking from the lake he claimed as his own. In this endless cycle, he too was trapped, lost in the depths of his own image.

As these glimpses faded, he returned to the serene forest that surrounded him, a sanctuary where the stillness offered a sense of peace. The pond lay before him, its surface reflecting the tranquility of the trees, a stark contrast to the restless spirits of his neighbors.

Today was the same as a thousand before it. Narcissus picked up his hunting bow, preparing for another day in his endless cycle. The familiar stillness of Oblivion wrapped around him, a comforting blanket of monotony. Yet, as he stepped into the clearing, an anomaly pierced the tranquility: an eagle, a creature of change in a realm where nothing shifted. He frowned; change was never a good sign. It was essential to remove this disruption for the sake of his lifestyle.

As he drew back his bowstring, the eagle suddenly flew down, landing gracefully before him. To his astonishment, the bird transformed into a figure he recognized all too well—Zeus, the king of the gods. Narcissus felt a surge of irritation. He had never cared for the gods, especially not Zeus. Born of an ill-fated union between his mother, Liriope, and the river god Cephissus, Narcissus carried the weight of a legacy he had never wanted. His conception had been anything but consensual, and he loathed his father for that.

He was just another demigod, neither powerful nor special. Sometimes he thought it would have been better to be born mortal than to exist as this half-formed echo of divinity.

"Out," was all he managed to say, his voice flat and dismissive.

"Now, Narcissus, is that any way to speak to your god after so much time?" Zeus replied, his tone a mix of amusement and authority.

Narcissus narrowed his eyes. He had never liked the gods, nor did he feel any kinship with them. They were strangers bound by blood, nothing more. Zeus had no place in his life, and he intended to keep it that way. The air crackled with tension as he glared at the figure before him, the god's presence unsettling the delicate balance of his existence.

"Your presence here changes nothing," he said, struggling to mask his unease. "I want no part of your games."

Narcissus stood firm, his bow still drawn, though his resolve wavered with each passing second. The sight of Zeus, the embodiment of power and authority, was disorienting. The god's gaze was unyielding, filled with both amusement and something deeper—a hint of purpose.

"Change is inevitable, Narcissus," Zeus said, his voice resonating like thunder in the stillness of the forest. "We cannot remain here forever, trapped in this cycle of solitude."

"Why should I care about change?" Narcissus shot back, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. "This is my life. Better the familiar than the chaos of the unknown."

"Is it truly better?" Zeus stepped closer, and the air shifted with his presence. "You are more than just a reflection in a pond. You have the potential to rise above your origins, to reclaim your destiny."

Narcissus felt a flicker of anger at the god's words. "Destiny? You speak of destiny as if it were a gift. I am nothing but a footnote in your stories—another demigod lost to time."

"Perhaps you are right," Zeus admitted, his tone turning somber. "But I am also trapped here, along with the others. The gods of Olympus are not free; we are bound to this place just as you are. I need your help to escape."

A smirk crept onto Narcissus's lips. "Do you now? After all these years, you couldn't send them out, could you? I saw you fly to your son Hercules first. Alas, he is also a god now, so whatever your plan is, it probably won't work. Then you went to Perseus, and the list goes on for a thousand years. Did you finally run out of candidates and come to me to save you all? Am I The savior now?"

Zeus's expression darkened, Narcissus laughed, the sound bitter. "What makes you think I want to be part of your grand scheme? I've spent too long in the shadows of gods, and I have no intention of being another of your pawns Zeus."

Zeus's expression became calm, his demeanor shifting as he spoke. "Then I offer you a deal. If you do as I say, I will grant you power and divinity. A lot of gods have perished, and their knowledge and essence reside with me now. Also, I will give you this."

He raised his hands, and two seals materialized above them. One was shaped like a small, crystallized water droplet, glimmering with a soft blue light that seemed to beckon Narcissus closer. The other was a seal in the shape of a flowing river, its surface rippling as if alive.

"I believe you should be familiar with these," Zeus continued, a hint of anticipation in his voice. "Narcissus, meet your mother, Liriope, and your father, Cephissus."

Narcissus held the seals in his hands, examining them with a mix of wonder and trepidation. The water droplet felt warm against his palm, a connection to a past he had long struggled to understand. The river seal pulsed gently, as if echoing the currents of his lineage.

"What does this mean?" he asked, glancing up at Zeus.

"accept my offer Narcissus. I will use some of the dead gods' divinity to rupture the space of Oblivion for a short period of time. You will enter it, find a safe world, and begin the process of rebuilding Olympus to get us back."

Narcissus's heart raced at the prospect. "And if I fail?"

Zeus regarded him steadily. "Failure is not an option. But if you do, We will not abandon you. The power I offer will be yours to command, and with it, you will not only have the strength to succeed but the wisdom of those who came before you."

The weight of the decision pressed heavily on Narcissus. He had spent so long in solitude, resentful of the gods and their games. Yet, this was an opportunity—one to reclaim his freedom.

He took a deep breath, letting the gravity of the moment settle within him. "What if I refuse? What if I choose to remain in Oblivion?"

Zeus's gaze sharpened, his voice firm. "Then you will remain a prisoner here, as will I. Oblivion will continue to stifle us, and the world outside will forget our names."

Narcissus looked down at the seals. The thought of forging a new path, of stepping out of the shadows.

"I will do it," he said, his voice steady. "But I have a few requests before you send me out into the new world."

Zeus frowned. "What more could you possibly ask for?"

Narcissus smiled. "It's simple, really. I want the Blade of Olympus."

"No."

"Ares' armor?"

"No," Zeus replied flatly. "First, he is alive, and second, I can't send powerful artifacts—only a being similar or lower to your... energy."

"Can I have your lightning bolt?"

"No."

"Artemis' bow?"

"No."

"Fine. What about Medusa?"

"You mean the Gorgon Medusa, whose gaze turns people to stone?"

"Yeah, and I want immunity to that as well, since you mentioned it."

"Why in the Underworld would you want Medusa?"

"No idea, really. Not only is she incapable of love, as far as I've heard, but you can't procreate with her. Her monstrous body will make it impossible to hide and will bring unnecessary trouble. I could just ask for a Greek philosopher or Military leader to help me.

"Then why?"

"Because the author wants too.

Zeus sighed and mitrelized a snake seal. "I see you have your reasons, Narcissus. When you wish to release her, simply let go of this seal, and she will be set free."

Zeus crossed his arms, skepticism etched on his face. "Just remember, freedom comes with a price. Are you ready to pay it?"

"I am," Narcissus replied, resolve settling in his voice. "Let's begin."

Zeus nodded . "Very well. Together, we will craft a new destiny. Prepare yourself, Narcissus. The time has come to embrace your heritage and step into the light."

With that, the air around them shimmered with energy, the seals glowing brighter as they intertwined with the essence of Oblivion. 

With a nod of agreement, Zeus raised his hands, channeling the power of the dead gods. The air crackled with energy as the boundaries of Oblivion began to shift. The pond before Narcissus shimmered, its surface reflecting the tumultuous light surrounding them.

"Focus on the seals," Zeus instructed, his voice resonating with authority. "Let their power guide you through the rapture."

As Narcissus held the seals tightly, a brilliant light erupted from the pond, enveloping him in a blinding glow. He felt himself being drawn into the depths, the world around him dissolving into a whirlwind of color and sound. The sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying, as if he were being reborn.

In an instant, the chaos subsided, and he found himself standing at the edge of a vast, shimmering lake. The water was deep and still, reflecting the sky above, which was a tapestry of swirling clouds and vibrant hues. This was not the realm of Oblivion; it was something else entirely.

Narcissus blinked against the brilliance of the new world, his surroundings shifting from the oppressive gloom of Oblivion to the vibrant expanse of the gods' eye lake. The water shimmered like liquid glass, alive with hues that danced across the surface. As he stepped closer, he could see reflections not just of himself, but of possibilities—visions of a future he had never dared to imagine.

He knelt at the water's edge, the seals in his hands pulsing with warmth and energy. Memories of his past—of solitude, frustration, and the weight of expectation—washed over him like waves. But he felt something else, too: the stirrings of hope.

"I am not just a reflection," he whispered to himself. "I can be much more."