Earth was once beautiful—wild with untouched forests, endless skies, and creatures that lived in perfect balance. Everything followed the natural path of life… until humans arrived.
They cut down the forests. They scarred the land. They wounded the very world that sheltered them. As they rose to the top of the food chain, they began to believe they were untouchable—masters of all they surveyed.
But as humanity continued to wound Mother Earth, the gods grew furious. The planet itself trembled with rage.
From the scorched depths of the world, the gods summoned creatures of mass destruction—beings born from fire, stone, and pure hatred for mankind. Their hearts burned with vengeance. They were known as the Scorched Ones—harbingers of flame and ruin, leaving nothing but ash and screams in their wake.
"Syre, are you sure about this?" a woman in a bathing robe asked, sitting on a floor of bamboo.
Syre glanced back at her and nodded. "Yes, Mother. I'm sure about this."
His mother rose slowly and walked toward him, gently caressing his pale face. "I know you want to follow in his footsteps, but why?"
"Mother, Father was a great man. He wasn't just a man—he was an amazing father. He wanted the Heart to liberate humans, to give them a chance to survive—not for power. I feel a duty. As his only son, I must complete his dream so he can rest in peace."
"Syre… what if you fail as well?" His mother's hand ran slowly through his red hair, cascading almost to his waist.
"I won't, Mother. I have Father guiding me."
"Syre, please, reconsider this. You can't leave your mother alone," she urged.
"Mother… I know you've never said it, but I am nothing but struggle and burden for you."
"What are you saying, son? No… why would you be a burden? Why would you be a struggle?"
"I have no doubt you love me with all your heart, and I am thankful. I have nothing but gratitude for you. But I know you skip meals for me. I know you work harder for me. I know you're slowly killing yourself for my sake."
Syre paused, his orange, blazing eyes locking with hers—eyes full of nothing but appreciation and pure love.
"Mother… I know you want me to stay, even if it hurts you. I know you can't bear the thought of losing another close to you. But I'm selfish. I have always been selfish. I'm leaving because I know that if I do, it will make your life easier—which will make me feel better about myself."
He stepped back from her, gripping a wooden katana leaning against the wall of their house. "Mother… I love you."
"Syre, don't go yet… let me pack you food for your journey."
"Okay, Mother," he replied softly.
After some time, Syre walked down a dirt road, farmland stretching on both sides with farmers harvesting whatever they could. He held his wooden katana in his right hand, a bindle in his left.
He looked down at the dirt road as a drop of rain fell on his face, then another—drip, drip, drip—tears mingling with the rain. Suddenly, a farmer called out from the fields. "Where ya heading to, Syre?"
Syre wiped his tears with the back of his right hand, offered a soft smile, and said, "Mount Olympus."
The farmer chuckled. "If anyone else said that, I wouldn't believe it—but I trust your word with my soul, Syre."
"Why's that?"
"A few years back, your father said the same thing as he walked down this very road."
"Did he?" Syre asked.
"Uh-huh. This very dirt road you stand on, he looked at me with those same determined eyes."
"You think so? You think I have determination behind my gaze?"
"A fire, kid. A bright fire… like that man."
"Thank you, sir. Thank you for your kind words."
The farmer nodded and returned to his work. Syre sighed and continued down the road. Hours passed. The clouds shifted, the sun began to set, and the farmlands stretched endlessly.
I wonder how long it took them to build all this, he thought.
He refocused and picked up his pace. "The walk to Mount Olympus will take a year or two if I take the safest route. I shouldn't run into any Scorched Ones… but no."
He paused, staring past the farmlands into the dark forest where the Scorched Ones slumbered. Then he looked ahead at the road leading to a walled town guarded by soldiers.
"Hundreds set out every day on this journey. Those who take the safest route never reach Mount Olympus. I need to be different. I need to do what Father would've done."
Step by step, he walked, thinking, planning, until he noticed a man approaching.
They passed each other, both walking their own paths. Suddenly, Syre stopped. "Where are you heading?"
"Why do you care?" the man replied.
"Sorry," Syre said, continuing forward.
"I'm going wherever this road leads me," the man said, causing Syre to halt.
"The road is never-ending. You'll circle the world and end up back here," Syre said.
"I see… thanks for telling me. Where are you heading?"
"Mount Olympus."
"The road doesn't lead to Mount Olympus. Keep following it, and you'll just end up here again."
"I see…" Syre paused. "What's your name?"
"Mercury… Mercury Dolios. And you?"
"Syre… Syre Ignarus."
"Syre… Syre Ignarus. It was well meeting you."
"Likewise, Mercury…"
They continued walking, never once turning to see each other's faces.