16, Gaia -2- "Not the Golden Arrow—Not Now!"
It was right in the middle of the simple ritual to elevate Heracles to godhood. Of all things, for Eros to loose a golden arrow of love's fever at a time like this—it was the absolute worst.
Gaia's desperate grasp on thought and reason was crushed in an instant by a fierce passion that boiled madly from the depths of her heart, deep within her voluptuous bosom. The sensation scorched her mind and fingertips. She wanted to grip his curly black hair, yank his ruddy lips to hers, press her body against his—like some madwoman consumed by frenzy. It gnawed at her sanity. This was clear proof of how determined Eros had been to pair her with Heracles.
This is insane. Not now.
The incantation for his ascension faltered. She tried to steady it, but now the words themselves were twisting. The wretched emotion urging her to mold this beloved man into a god fitting for her shattered Gaia's plan to make him simply a god of raw strength. It trampled her reason underfoot.
When she desperately reclaimed her senses and looked at Heracles' face, the incantation had already veered far from her original intent.
He's so handsome. Damn it, this isn't right!
Gaia felt wronged now. When she'd been told her daughter would join her and Heracles, she'd been furious as expected. After her sham of a marriage to Uranus, she'd had zero interest in starting anew. Truly none. And yet, to be bound to Heracles like this…
Of course she didn't hate it. Resisting the golden arrow was impossible from the start.
Damn it all. What kind of divinity is this?
"You can lift your head now, Heracles."
"…Lady Gaia, are you alright?"
"Ah, 'tis nothing!"
To hide her face—flushed beet-red with boiling passion and love, plump and ripe as an apple—Gaia hurriedly finished the incantation, slammed every ounce of her divine power into it, and fled the scene. Heracles' gaze, so devilishly sincere with concern, held her back. But if she lost control here, she'd drag him off somewhere, Echidna or Adamantia be damned.
And thanks to Eros' mid-ritual prank, Heracles' divinity had warped too.
Trials, adversity, triumph, strength—the divine domain of manhood.
Every human faces hardship and trials in life, great or small, long or short. Nymphs and gods alike encounter them, and only those who overcome survive—such is the law of the world. For men, the first weapon against all adversity is the power dwelling in their flesh; wisdom comes second. This held true for all creatures, nymphs, and humans living across Achaea and the seas beyond.
In the end, Heracles' ascension ritual resulted in…
"He's on the verge of becoming a high god…"
Amid the pounding heartbeat and the waves of passion devouring her reason, the fragile thread of sanity she'd clung to had only managed one act of consideration: yielding the position of first wife to her beloved daughter, Adamantia. In the end, Gaia couldn't deny or reject becoming his wife too. With her own hands, she'd bestowed the perfect authority to surpass the labors she'd so carefully assigned—and the future she'd staked on them.
"If he clears those labors too?"
With divinity over trials, adversity, triumph, manhood, strength, and blacksmithing? He'd not only rival a high god but threaten Hephaestus' throne as Olympus' forge god—or even eclipse several high gods with terrifying power.
That couldn't happen.
And the scariest part? Such growth in divinity and awakening as a mighty god would make him even more handsome and alluring.
A god's appearance was the most basic way to proclaim their divinity's might, importance, and excellence. Hephaestus' ugliness was a rare case, tied to the forge's capricious nature and fate's whims—even gods couldn't escape it fully without mastering blacksmithing completely.
"He'll end up even more dashing, won't he? Heracles."
"What, you sayin' your hubby'll get even hotter?"
"…Echidna?!"
"Whatcha doin', mumblin' to yourself while clutching your head?"
"How'd you get in here?!"
"How? I slept here last night."
"…"
Originally, Adamantia's forge housed only her and Typhon. With Heracles' arrival, Typhon and he shared a room. There were a few spares, but rooms weren't plentiful. Excluding Thalassa and Tyrrhenus, guests were rare, so overlaps were inevitable.
"Mom, somethin' was off when you chanted the incantation earlier. What's wrong? You hurt?"
"Hurt? I'm hale and hearty. Too hearty, even."
"Somethin' happened, huh."
Her daughter Echidna, mother of troublemaking monsters, had Gaia's sharp instincts in this regard. It charmed her usually, proved useful often—but not now. It felt like her weakness was exposed.
"? What's with the furrowed brow?"
"Who said furrowed? Just tired from the ascension."
"What? A low god? You'd tire from that?"
"Girl, you think deifying someone is easy? Especially when your sister's why I did it—double the fatigue."
"Hmm."
Truth be told, as Echidna said, ascending a low god shouldn't tire her. She'd have collapsed or vanished long ago if so, plunging the world back to chaos. It hadn't, and this fatigue stemmed elsewhere—but Echidna knew little of deification, so brushing it off seemed wise.
But against Gaia's hopes, Echidna smirked slyly, sensing something.
"Aha~ So you didn't make him a low god, huh? What, what is it? Why the sudden change of heart?"
"No change. Still a low god."
"Your face says otherwise~ So spill, what god did you make him?"
"Ask your husband yourself—why bother your mother?"
"Aww~ C'mon, I wanna chat with you~"
This sly daughter, half-guessing already, slithered close with her thick serpentine body. Gaia loved snakes as earth goddess, but her own daughter grinning like one approaching nearly startled her. The feeling passed quickly, but shaking off Echidna's clingy advance? No easy way.
She'd just get dragged along as her daughter wished.
"Tell me just a lil', pretty please? I'm dyin' to know—won't tell sis!"
"No, ask your man—he'll tell you. Go to him."
"Nuh-uh, wanna hear from you. Feels good when you call Heracles my hubby~"
"Ugh, back off, girl!"
Gaia wanted distance now, but Echidna's clinginess made it futile. In the end, her passion-flushed, lust-reddened face showed to her daughter. Echidna recoiled in shock at her mother's ruby-apple visage.
"M-Mom? You sick? Why, what's wrong?"
"Not sick. Just… y'know. Don't worry."
"Nah, doesn't look like 'just.' What? Fell for our Heracles?"
"…"
Our Heracles. It stung Gaia with envy. She wanted to claim him so too. She knew he was Adamantia's mate, knew he'd gone all the way with Echidna—still ached. Even knowing he'd embrace her precious daughters. Eros' golden arrow allowed no resistance.
That our Heracles grated so much, Gaia snapped.
"Yes! I fell for him! So what? Happy now? Sharing a husband with your mom—there, satisfied?!"
In the end, Gaia uttered words she'd regret forever.