Among the gods of fate, Tyche, the goddess of opportunity, had clearly refused. Phoebe, the goddess of prophecy, was in seclusion. Leto, the goddess of luck, was the queen of the gods. And Aethelred, the god of accident, had nothing to do with the revelations of fate. The only choice was Astrea, the goddess of astrology and celestial bodies.
Leto, the goddess of the moonlit night, rarely appeared in the night sky anymore. As the queen of the gods, Leto spent more time with her husband and children. Her sister, the goddess of the starry night, took over most of her duties.
Tonight was a night of stars without a moon. Astrea, who possessed all the territories of the god of the sea of stars, revealed her graceful figure in the night sky.
Prometheus came to the mountaintop and called out to the goddess, requesting Astrea's revelation.
The goddess of the starry night did not have much ambition. When the god of growth, Crius, contended for the throne of the king of the gods with Zeus, it did not affect her and her husband's stance. It was known that Crius was the father of Perses' husband, the god of destruction.
Astrea responded to the prophet's request and descended from the darkness. The goddess smiled and asked, "Wise prophet, why do you call me?"
Prometheus first praised the goddess of the starry night for her help to humanity. "Daughter of prophecy, embodiment of mystery, you transform the revelations of fate into the trajectories of the stars, allowing weak humans to glimpse the arrival of misfortune."
"I beg you to lend me a hand and grant me guidance."
The prophet's expression was solemn. "The last silver human has left me, and the pain in my heart is like an unceasing whirlpool at sea! Please tell me, how can I make them stay with me forever?"
Astrea sympathizingly shook her head. "Prophet, you should know that nothing is eternal. Human life is as fragile as a flower. I advise you not to pour too much emotion into these beings who are destined to wither. This will only cause you harm."
Prometheus smiled bitterly. "I created them, they trust me and love me, and I cannot sever this connection."
Unable to resist Prometheus's earnest pleas, Astrea revealed the secret of eternal life: "My friend Tyche bestowed upon her son a golden apple tree, the fruit of which can grant divinity to mortals and bestow eternal life."
"But golden apples are very precious, and Zeus will not use them on humans."
Prometheus was like a drowning man grasping for a rope; he could no longer heed the goddess's warning.
After bidding farewell to Astrea, Prometheus went to the garden on the divine mountain. By the spring in the center of the garden stood the precious golden apple tree, which Zeus cherished greatly and always had subordinate gods carefully guard under any circumstances.
Nike, the goddess of victory, was napping under the tree, her spear flashing with a cold white light. Prometheus hid among the lush flowers, carefully searching for the golden apples on the tree.
The fruit tree had grown very lushly, but there were only a few scattered fruits among the branches and leaves. Picking them now would undoubtedly alert the goddess of victory. Seeing that the time for the sacrifice was approaching, but Nike still showed no intention of getting up to participate in the sacrifice, Prometheus had no choice but to leave.
The unwilling prophet lingered outside the garden, still waiting for the right moment, and could only return to the earth to attend this sacrifice.
The black iron humans on earth were busy with this sacrifice. They slaughtered the prey they caught, lit bonfires with branches of myrrh and frankincense, and placed offerings on the altar to sacrifice to the gods.
As all humans began their sacrifices simultaneously, an invisible force began to gather, and faith overflowed from their hearts. After being shared by the gods, it increased the brilliance of their divine power.
The humans completed their offerings to the gods. The replenishment of divine power made the gods intoxicated, and the divinity within their divine nature grew stronger with the supplement of faith.
This time, without Zeus's urging, the gods were all eager to demand that humans prepare more lavish offerings and build temples that combined luxury and exquisiteness. Humans could not satisfy the gods' demands and could only rush about, offering all their food as sacrifices to the gods.
Human development thus stagnated, while the gods' conditions became increasingly harsh. This made Prometheus furious because the gods did not eat these offerings. To punish these selfish deities, Prometheus decided to deceive the gods.
He divided a slaughtered white ox into two piles. One pile was tender beef, very well covered with a layer of brown tripe. The other pile was ox bones and entrails, hidden under thick, snow-white fat, making it look shiny and very tempting. These two offerings were presented to the gods. Prometheus asked the gods to choose their preferred offerings, and the rest were returned to humans for them to eat their fill.
Hestia watched this not-so-clever trick and sighed. Such a trick could only fool the wolves of Canna. How could Prometheus, with his foresight, use such a clumsy method?
As expected, the prophet's trick did not escape the eyes of the gods. Zeus said in a deep voice, "Creator of humans, look how unfairly you have distributed."
Prometheus remained silent, respectfully letting the gods make their choice.
In the silence, Zeus chose the ox bones covered with beef fat. After lifting the fat, the king of the gods angrily said, "Damn Prometheus, how dare you deceive the gods!"
The sky was filled with dark clouds, and huge lightning bolts illuminated the altar like inverted trees. The rumbling thunder made the humans cover their ears in fear.
To punish Prometheus for his deception, Zeus ordered the gods in charge of fire to retrieve all the fire. Hestia, the goddess of the hearth, and Hephaestus, the god of craftsmen, took back the flames they had bestowed upon humans. Dark clouds covered the sun, and sunlight no longer brought warmth to the earth.
The humans, deprived of light, finally stopped killing each other. They hid in houses and caves, trembling, and begged the gods to return the flame to them.
Faith sparked by suffering is always profound. The gods craved more faith, so why would they want the light to return?
The days of darkness were unbearable. Prometheus broke off a thick fennel branch, climbed to the highest peak, and waited in the sun's trajectory.
On the mountaintop that pierced the dark clouds, Prometheus stole the sun's flame with the fennel branch, and light returned to the earth. When questioned by the gods, the prophet lied, claiming that the fire was caused by the king of the gods' lightning striking the forest, not that he had stolen it.
The gods left in disappointment, and everything seemed to return to how it was before the sacrifice.