Fire....

Fire! Before time itself had fully developed, Earth, and every living organism on it, was peaceful and serene. On One damp day, in the middle of a treacherous blizzard, everything had changed. The occurrence of this disaster shocked mortals, and gods both. There once lived a boy, whose name was Hephaestus. He had grown up as a very depressed, angry, child. And, ever since he was four years of age, he believed a disaster would occur, and some would claim it as natural, but he would not. One day, dressed in a dirty robe, and sandals twisting and twirling along his legs to his knee, Hephaestus, walked to the nearby market place, to bring home edible food for his family. As he stepped through the icy, dirt pathway, he saw a black shape in the gloomy clouds hovering over a village not far from his home. “Is that my sign'” Hephaestus didn’t mean to speak out loud. But, no one outside seemed to notice. But the curiosity he had, burned clear and bright. He tried as hard as he could to ignore the questions he now thought in his head, and went on to the market. But he couldn’t help but to see what it was! Was this his day he has dreamed about, hard and long, or is it just perhaps his imagination' He began on the narrow path, to the cottage where the darkness thrust open. As he past the straw houses on the narrow trail he noticed the air getting colder, and the night growing darker. As he walked, he overheard a mother yelling forcefully at her son. So, Hephaestus ran quickly to the home, and found a whole through the straw. He peaked inside to see a boy with brown hair and a bright red face, sitting on the floor crying. As well as, his mother above him, with her finger pointed down at him with a stern expression. “Son! This is utterly horrible! How could you have done such a thing! I can’t trust you anymore! You never do this horrible type of thing again young man!” her face was disturbed by her sons actions. “Mom! Please I promise I didn’t do it! Believe me! Mother!” He pleaded. “How am I supposed to believe you'” she was desperate trying to find out how he was going to explain himself. “Because mother! You just have to!” That’s when Hephaestus understood. That young boy had been Hephaestus’s friend. His name was Alexander. Hephaestus overheard of Alexander steeling the day before. But what Alexander had told his mother was false. He had stolen, and he just told his mother a lie. But how could this be' Why had he done such a crime' Out of all Heaphastus years of life, he had never heard one lie told. This upset him, more than anything he had ever witnessed. Why had he done such a thing! “Why! Why! Why!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “I don’t understand! He is just making it worse!” Heaphaestus grew red and angry. His face turned to shades of red, orange, and yellow. His fist balled up, and he was very disturbed by this. Then, out of nowhere, the shades of his face struck down onto the ground. The anger lessoned in him, and his eyes stared at the ground. A ripple or red flew up and down, with heat beaming off. He jumped back and grew scared. After a long time, more and more rippling heat waves broke out, as a result to more lies. Then soon the mortals began to call it fire. And Hephaestus went down in history for his creation. And from now on, he will always be known as Hephaestus, god of fire.