"Sing, o Muse," this is how the great poems about the heroes and demigods of old begin, about those mortals who defied adversity and fate.
But today I do not come to recall the great feats that everyone already knows, for today I do not come to tell you of the labors of Heracles, nor the voyages of Jason on the Argo, nor the wrath of Achilles, nor the cunning of Odysseus.
No, today I come to tell you how one of these great heroes, warriors who defied adversity, the gods, and fate, how one of them managed to transform himself into a god and ascend to Olympus.
Chaos broke out throughout Olympus. The murmurs and arguments of the minor gods could be heard, while in the main hall, at the center of Zeus's palace, the Olympians were gathering.
One by one, each god took a seat upon their corresponding throne, until all were occupied, arranged in such a way that they left a circular space in the center.
Only 11 of the 12 gods, it may be that Hestia, the goddess of the hearth and the home, the first to be born and the last to be vomited out among the children of Cronus, had decided to leave her place on Olympus And now, a replacement had to be chosen.
—¡I don't know why we keep arguing! —exclaimed one of the gods. It was none other than Poseidon, the god of the seas. Sitting in a comfortable yet imposing manner upon his throne; present with his beard and blue hair, in addition to his unmistakable trident. It is more than clear that our brother Hades should take his place.
—He has already expressed that he has no interest whatsoever in occupying a throne on Olympus —countered Athena firmly with a firm voice, goddess of war—. In any case, it does not surprise me; sharing a throne with you is quite a torment. Honestly, I envy him a little.
—¡Damn girl! —exclaimed Poseidon, rising from his throne and striking the ground with his trident—. Someone should teach you to respect your superiors.
—First: —You will never be my superior —the goddess replied before summoning her spear and pointing it at the god of the seas, defiant—. Second: If you want to fight, I will fight you right here.
—¡Can you avoid fighting?! —exclaimed another of the gods, Hephaestus the divine craftsman, who was wearing circular glasses, working on one of his many creations—. I don't want to waste time repairing this whole place again.
—It's always the same between you two —said another goddess, Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty—. Why don't you go to a private bedroom to relieve the tension between the two of you?
Instantly, Athena's spear and Poseidon's trident cut through the air like lightning. Both sank into the backrest of the throne of the goddess of love, brushing against her perfect cheeks. The looks they gave her were sharper than any weapon forged by Hephaestus.
—It was only a suggestion —Aphrodite replied calmly, trying to ease the tension.
Suddenly, one of the tools Hephaestus had been working with flew through the air and struck the goddess on the forehead.
—¡What is wrong with you?! —shouted the goddess at the craftsman as she rose from her throne—. ¡Why did you do that?!
The blacksmith god ignored her and continued working on his device as if nothing had happened.
—Spiteful —said the goddess grumbling as she sat back down on her throne.
—He has reasons to be —said Artemis, the goddess of the hunt.
—¡Oh! I think I've gone deaf, darling —exclaimed Aphrodite in an exaggerated and theatrical tone—. Because I don't remember hearing anyone ask you.
—¡Enough! —exclaimed Hera, the wife of Zeus and queen of Olympus—. We are straying far too much from the subject by arguing over your trivialities. We are here to decide which god will replace Hestia; if you have no candidate, you had better remain silent.
Despite Hera's threats, it was impossible for them not to drift toward one of the disputes the Olympians had among themselves. And whenever a god was proposed who might replace Hestia, a "but" would always arise from one Olympian or another.
Persephone, queen of the underworld, was proposed; Hecate, goddess of magic; Asclepius, god of medicine; Helios, god of the sun, and so on.
One by one, each Olympian suggested a god they considered worthy of occupying Hestia's throne. But for one reason or another, mainly because the gods always suggested someone with whom they had some kind of relationship, all of them ended up being discarded.
The main fear was that the new god would end up favoring the one who suggested them in future discussions of Olympus. Creating an imbalance within it.
At the end of the day, they were unable to select anyone worthy of occupying Hestia's throne among the other gods.
—I think that's where the problem lies —spoke another of the gods.
All of Olympus fell silent upon hearing his voice; it was none other than Zeus, the very king of Olympus.
The king of the gods rose from his throne and began to walk toward the center of the hall.
—We are searching among the other gods for someone who can occupy a place on Olympus. But the sad reality is that none are worthy.
—Then what do you suggest? —asked Hera—. Do you propose that the throne remain empty for the rest of eternity.
—I did not say that —replied Zeus—. What I propose is that we look a little lower.
The gods looked expectantly at what Zeus was saying.
—¡I propose that each one of us choose a mortal, and from among the mortals, only the best will be able to ascend to a place on Olympus!
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In the Underworld, in the palace of the god Hades, the king who rules over the souls of the dead, Zeus was discussing with his brother and his wife Persephone in order to allow them to take some of the souls, both for the tournament and to serve as spectators.
The god of the dead found no amusement in this competition. For years, he had prevented the souls of mortals from escaping his realm, and now he had to allow several souls to leave it to attend this competition.
—Your nonsense again —said the god of the dead to his brother.
—Hey! This is also your fault. If you had accepted your place on Olympus, as you should have. None of this would have happened.
—The dead need a king —Hades replied—. Besides, I have no interest in participating in your stupid and endless arguments.
—Unfortunately for you, it is in those "stupid" arguments where the fate of all is decided. If you do not participate in them, you have no right to complain.
—Those heroes…
Another voice spoke; this one had a warm yet melancholic tone. It was that of Persephone, queen of the Underworld.
—They are people who have already fought and suffered —the goddess continued—, who have lived, loved, and hated. And you, do you wish to take away their eternal rest just so they can fight among themselves?
—It will only be for a moment… —Zeus replied—. Well, them and those closest to them. We need an audience for the stands.
Both rulers looked at the god with displeasure, irritated by the casual way in which he treated the matter of taking souls out of the Underworld.
—Tell me, brother —Hades finally said—. What are you plotting?
—Nothing —Zeus replied—, I am just… Looking for something to entertain myself.
—That is the same thing you said about Troy… —replied the god of the dead, with a certain weariness in his voice—. Very well, if all of Olympus agrees to this, I cannot oppose it.
Zeus gave a satisfied smile.
—Thank you for cooperating, brother —said the Olympian—. You were always the best of the three.
Zeus gave Hades a pat on the shoulder as a friendly gesture. Then he turned his back and proceeded to leave.
—Zeus! —shouted the king of the dead, interrupting his brother's departure—. Everything in the heavens and Olympus is yours. But the souls of the dead, the souls belong to us. Do not forget it.
The Olympian said nothing, but on his face the same satisfied smile as before could be seen.
After that, he proceeded to return to Olympus. Each god had to select their champion.