chapter 2
For 16 years James lived a happy normal life, well as normal of a life you would live with the strength of Zeus coursing through your blood. He helped his father in the markets and his mother with the cooking. He tended the land, went to school and looked after the sheep. There was always enough food to eat, no matter how little that enough was, and he had the occasional friend here and there. However, due to his strength James was deemed a “danger to other children” so he was mainly surrounded by his parents and their heart.
James was helping his father take hay into the marker by helping push the wagon. Now a push to James is what normal people would call to propel, “James! Slow down” Fleamont called out in worry holding on to his hat as his son ran them through the wind.
“Look out,” he cried as James knocked over some workers from their station.
“Sorry guys,” James cringed. He kept running until he ran himself 3 feet into the ground, the wagon finally coming to a stop.
“Thanks son,”
“No problem pops,” James said leisurely lifting the tons of hay
“Don’t unload just yet, first I have to mangle Pileus into lowering the prices,”
“Ok ,” he said plopping the hay back down causing his fathers donkey to shoot into the sky, “oops sorry Penelope,”
“Now James,” Fleamont started looking up at the sky, “ this time please just-“
“I know, I know stay by the wagon,” he said catching Penelope as she fell from the height and putting her back on the wagon.
“That’s my boy,” Fleamont said ruffling James’ hair before walking off.
As James composed himself against the hay, he noticed the pots man struggling in his stall, “Careful,” he went helping the man with his balance.
“Thank you,”
“No problem,” the pots man turned his head to be met by the smiling boy
“Why James i- its- its- you,” he stuttered
“Let me help you with that,”
“Na na ana no I got it, I’m fine you just run along” the man stressed rushing the pot out of the young boy’s arms
“You sure?”
“Oh, yea I’m fine,” the pots man said closing the curtain on the boy
Feeling rejected James turned back only to be met with a discus at his feet
“Yo give it here,” came from one of the town’s kids, their eyes widening when coming face to face with James.
“Hey, you need another guy”
“Uh sorry James we already have five and want to keep it an even number,” James puzzled a look as the boy snatched back the discuss and ran off faintly muttering something about him being a jerk.
Shoulders slumped he went to go sit by the well, people moving away from him as if he had an infectious disease. As he sat against the tiles, he wondered what was so wrong with himself, sure he was strong, but he could do good with that strength. If only they’d let him. He wouldn’t be such a disappointment, he wouldn’t be too much, he’d be just enough. Oh, how James wished he could be less of himself. He heard a swift sound fly above and looked up to see the discus flying back a faint “heads up” in the distance. James rushed to grab hold.
“I got it,” and oh he did, caught it so well that he bashed against a pillar. To most boys this would cause them a great deal of pain but to James it made the entire market lace crumble around him in a domino effect, the only one remaining was the pot maker holding his lively hood in his hands for dear life. Yet, James had to ruin this too quickly coming crashing into the man making him loose grip of his pots.
James stood in the middle of the rumble feeling lower than he had ever felt, holding on to the discus
“Nice catch, jerk!” snipped the boy from earlier.
“Son,” his father looked at him with worrying eyes
“This is the last straw,” cried the pot man, “Fleamont, that boy is a menace he is too dangerous to be around normal people,”
“He didn’t mean any harm he’s just a kid, he just can’t control his strength” his father tried to justify
“I’m warning that, that-that freak,” James’ heart broke at that word, “away from here,”
Head hung low James, and his father made a slow walk back home, James desperately willing his eyes not to shed the tears that were welling up.
…..
James had not spoken a word after they had gotten home, it was not till it was late when he was sitting in front of the old olive tree that he finally spoke to his father.
“Son you shouldn’t let those things they said back their get to you,”
“But Pop their right, I am a freak, I try to fit in dad I really do. I just can’t,” he sighed, “sometimes I feel like, like I really don’t belong here,” he turned to see his father nurse a horrifying expression, “you and ma have done so much for me, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m supposed to be, someplace else,” he said leaning his head up to face the sky.
“James son,”
“No dad I know I’m crazy i- I know,” he said walking into the sea, he loved his father, but he just needed a minute.
….
That night when he returned home, he saw both his parents at the door, his fathers’ arms around his mother, both looking a little scared a little sad.
“James there’s something your mother and I have been meaning to tell you,” fear trickled down James’ spine but he knew with his parents he would be safe, so he walked to his mothers arms as they sat him down to talk.
“James you are my son, my darling boy but you did not,” his mother paused to look at Fleamont, “come from me,” James met her with a strange expression, “your father and I found you abandoned at the bottom of a cliff 16 years ago. You were only a baby no older then 1 and this is all we found on you,” Euphemia dropped her hands from her sons face to reveal the gold shinny emblem of the gods. Still as bright as the day she first saw it.
“This is it; don’t you see maby they have the answers, I’ll go to the temple of Zeus and then-“ he paused in his ramblings to look back at his parents, “ma, pops,” tears welled in his eyes as he took his parents in an embrace.
“Go darling, this was always going to happen,” Euphemia said brushing his tears and throwing her shawl around his shoulders
…
Hugging his parents tight, James set off for Zeus at dawn. A hundred questions racked his brain. Why was I abandoned? Why was I not enough even as an infant? What did the gods have to do with anything? Was he cursed? Where does his strength come from? Does this explain why his parents are so much paler than him?
Questions ran through his nerves at lightning speed and before long he found himself at the temple of Zeus. The statue was large, nearly touching the ceiling, there was no other decoration apart from some unlit oil lamps, the temple was cold, and he wrapped his mother’s shawl tighter as he approached the king of the gods.
He set his bag down and got to his knees, “Oh mighty Zeus hear me and answer my prayer I need to know, who am I, where do I belong?” a fierce gust of wind blew at James, as a lightning bolt struck the statue, lighting the lamps in unison. As James lifted his head from his hands, he saw that the statue looked a lot less gray, almost alive?
The statue opened its eyes
Then smiled
At him
Then he spoke, “My boy my little James,” as the statue came to reach for him, James decided that nope absolutely not not today.
His eyes widened in fear, and he screeched trying to make a break for the exits, losing track of his feet as the statue grabbed his tiny legs.
“Easy now what’s the hurry after all these years is this the kind of hello you give your father,” James stuck his head out from the statue’s fist.
“Father?”
“Didn’t know you had a famous father, did you? Look how you’ve grown you have your mothers’ beautiful eyes and my string chin,” James blushed feeling a little embarrassed getting compliments from the king of the gods.
“My mother? Hera?”
“Hera,” Zeus nodded, “how she’s missed you, we’ve all missed you son,”
“Wait so if you’re my father and Hera is my mother, that would make me-“
“A god,”
“A god,” James grabbed at his hair in disbelief, “A god! But- but why did you leave me on earth. Was I not good enough for you,”
“No son we loved you more then anything, but someone stole you from us and turned you mortal and only gods can live on Olympus,”
“And you can’t do a thing,”
“I can’t James, but you can,” James thought what he could do that the king of the gods couldn’t, maby break down another marketplace, or a school this time.
“Like what?”
“James if you can prove yourself a true hero on earth your god hood will be restored,” oh, oh so maby he could do something.
“A true hero, great! Uh exactly how do I do that,”
“First you must seek out Lupin, trainer of heroes,”
“Seek of lupin, right I’ll,” James tried to walk forgetting he was in his, fathers? Hand.
“Woaw hold your horses, which reminds me,” Zeus looked up in thought before whistling. The noise brought down a glimpse of light turning into a dazzling white horse with wings in front of James’ very eyes, “you probably don’t remember Pegasus, but you two go way back son,”
“Pegasus?” he puzzled, running his hand through the horse’s main. The horse grabbed his head and gave James a good thump. Which ultimately caused his memory restoration, “Pegasus! I remember you,” he grabbed his old friend in a tight hug.
“He’s a magnificent horse, with the brain of a bird.”
Mounting Pegasus James sped out of the temple, “I’ll find Lupin become a true hero,”
“That’s the spirit!”
“I won’t let you down father,” Zeus blew at the boy giving his son a head start.
“Goodluck, son,” he said before a lightning bolt hit again turning the statue back to stone.