Hephaestus & Nike

Time has Passed

Many years had passed while Hephaestus (who had been nicknamed Festus) lived with the Sintians. They were pleasantly surprised at how quickly he had mastered their smithing trade. He was eighteen years old and the most accomplished of them all. There was something engrained within him that made him understand the flame.

The group was also impressed with his character. He was a gentle giant and had a clear head in emergencies. In a short time he had become invaluable to the Sintians. They looked on him as a son and as a brother.

But no matter how talented he was or how good he was, it didn't change the fact that he was ugly. The color of his skin had faded from red to tan, but it was still pocked and marked. And his foot was still blackened and lame and he needed a cane to walk.

Even though many of the citizens of the surrounding area were using his products, they had never seen him. Because the Sintians believed that he would be shunned, they forbade him from ever straying too far from the monastery. Because of this, they did everything in their power to bring him everything he needed. Every few weeks someone would bring him a box of books or scrolls to write on. They bought him instruments but discovered that he had no musical talent.

All in all Festus lead a happy life. He found solace in his work. He needed no protective covering when working with the metal, and he found a beauty in it. He enjoyed living with the peaceable old men who told him stories about the gods and goddesses who lived at the top of Mt. Olympus. He liked living in his own little room.

What he wanted for however was what had been withheld from him. Companionship from his peers. He knew no one his own age. And his experience with the opposite sex was even more limited.

Though the Sintians had sworn off women, Festus never had. And he longed for one to call his own.