The winds howled across the barren earth as three divine figures stood upon a sacred hill—Prometheus, Epimetheus, and Athena. Before them lay nothing but empty land, a world devoid of true mortals. But that would soon change.
"It is time," Prometheus declared, kneeling down. With careful hands, he gathered the rich clay of the earth, mixing it with the water of a sacred river. His fingers shaped the first human form—fragile, weak, yet filled with endless potential.
Athena stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with wisdom. "Without the mind, they are nothing but husks." She breathed onto the figure, and a golden light flickered. The first human opened his eyes.
More figures followed, shaped from the land, given intelligence and reason by Athena. They stood, confused but alive, gazing at the world with newfound awareness.
Meanwhile, Epimetheus worked on the animals. He sculpted them with his hands, giving each a different trait—strength to the oxen, speed to the deer, flight to the birds, fangs to the wolves. But in his enthusiasm, he used all the gifts before reaching mankind.
When Prometheus saw this, he sighed. "So humanity is left defenseless."
Epimetheus shrugged. "I did not think ahead."
Prometheus grimaced but said nothing. Instead, he watched as the humans wandered their new world.
The first humans were weak. They shivered in the cold nights and cowered in the darkness. Without fangs, claws, or natural weapons, they were at the mercy of the beasts Epimetheus had created.
But there was one thing they did have—faith.
They saw the gods in the storms, in the rivers, in the mountains. They prayed, pleaded, and offered sacrifices in desperation. They placed food and bones on crude altars, hoping Zeus' lightning would descend and grant them fire.
And Zeus answered. His lightning struck the altars, igniting flames. Humanity rejoiced, worshipping him as their savior.
Yet their suffering did not end. Hunger gnawed at their bellies, and they offered entire beasts to the gods in sacrifice. They did not eat, fearing divine punishment.
Prometheus watched, his heart heavy. "This is not right."
And so, he devised a plan.
Prometheus gathered the humans and spoke:
"The gods are powerful, but they do not feast as we do. Offer them only what they deserve—bones and fat. Keep the meat for yourselves, for you are the ones who need it."
The humans hesitated but obeyed. When their next sacrifice was made, Prometheus prepared two portions:
1. A pile of glistening fat covering nothing but bones.
2. A pile of rich, juicy meat covered with unappealing hide.
Zeus arrived, inspecting the offerings. He scowled at the meat but was tempted by the shining fat. With a nod, he chose the first portion.
When he reached for it and uncovered only bones, he realized he had been tricked.
Zeus' face darkened, but the choice had been made. By divine law, the gods could only accept what was first given to them. From that day forward, humanity kept the best portions of their food, offering only the useless parts to the gods.
---
The Theft of Fire
Years passed, and humanity thrived. They grew stronger, well-fed, and confident.
But one day, an old man lay on his deathbed. His body frail, his breath weak, he turned his cloudy eyes to the sky and prayed:
"O great Zeus, hear my final words. We thank you for your fire, for your power. But Prometheus deceived you—he made us trick the gods. We do not deserve your gift. Please punnish that evil God, Prometheus and give me immortality"
The clouds rumbled. Lightning split the sky.
Zeus' voice echoed across the land.
"So be it."
And in an instant, fire vanished from the world.
The flames in every hearth flickered and died. The humans were plunged into darkness once more, left to freeze and starve. And the human who betrayed Prometheus became ashes.
And Zeus, watching from Olympus, smiled.