A Writer's Transmigration into the world of fantasy-Chapter 79: Qin Wei’s Past life memory (part-3)

"Anything," the queen said with a smile.

The boy let out a grin. "Not right now. I will tell you at the end of the day."

Damonis laughed. "Whatever you want, son. Just say it."

"Okay, let’s first go to the Temple." The Queen put a stop to the conversation, dragging them to the temple to do the rituals and please the Olympian gods for a bright future.

But just as they entered the prayer hall, they saw a man standing there, in front of the statue of Zeus, staring at his face. Tall, draped in rough gray robes, eyes like molten bronze. His face was sharp, lined with time, but proud. A flickering flame danced on his palm, unburning and bright.

Damonis halted in his footsteps in surprise. "Prometheus..."

The queen’s smile vanished, and a frown appeared on her face. "Prometheus? The Bound One?"

While Prometheus was incredibly respected by humanity eons ago, due to the fact that he brought fire to the humans, defying Zeus, as time passed, Zeus’ authority over humans only increased more and more, and people could only see Prometheus as some sort of rebel—a sinner who defied Zeus.

Icarus looked from one face to the other, confused. "Who—?"

The flame-bearer stepped forward, maintaining a smile on her face. "You’ve grown, Icarus. Just as she hoped you would."

"Who?" Icarus asked, voice quieter now.

Prometheus stopped a few paces away. "Your mother. Your real mother—Gaia."

"Wha..." Icarus widened his gaze, glancing at his mother.

"Prometheus..." Damonis stepped forward to stand in front of Icarus, shielding him from his sight. "What are you here for?"

Prometheus shrugged in response. "Of course, what else? I’m on the orders of Mother goddess, to reveal the truth to Icarus so that he makes his future path."

Damonis’ heart pounded at once. His mind went back to the prophecy. He instantly realized that it was this moment the prophecy was talking about, the event where his son would either choose to stay or leave beyond the walls of Achaea.

"I’m his mother, Prometheus." The Queen also stepped forward, raising her voice. "I may not have given birth to him, but he is my son. And his future path lies with Achaea. There’s no need to discuss further."

"Mother... what’s... what’s happening?" Icarus’ voice shook as he questioned her. The disbelief was evident on his face. "What... What do you mean you didn’t give birth to me?"

Prometheus suddenly disappeared from Damonis’ sight and appeared behind them, staring at the boy. "Whatever you hear is true, boy. You were only raised by King Damonis and Lady Thalassa."

As three of them turned around, Damonis clenched his fists. "Not now. Don’t do this today. Please..."

But the Titan continued, not heeding to his plea. "You were born of the Earth. Of Gaia. Formed from the blood of all mortal men—soldiers, kings, peasants—whose blood seeped into her soil through centuries of war. She took their essence, their grief, their hope, and she created you in the hope that one day, you will stop all the wars and take this world into the era of peace."

Icarus took a step back. "No... That’s not—"

"If you don’t believe me, you can ask your parents," Prometheus said. "Your citizens knew the truth that King Damonis found you in a bronze chest buried under the earth."

Damonis’ voice was low, broken, as if he was on the verge of losing his calmness. "He was my son."

Prometheus turned to him calmly. "He was your son. But whether he will continue to be your son, Icarus will make that decision. Not you." Taking a brief pause, he added. "And don’t you dare use that tone against me, mortal."

The flame in his palm grew brighter as his eyes flashed a bit of killing intent for a moment. Damonis involuntarily took a step back in fear.

Meanwhile, Icarus’ mind was in a mess. Until a moment ago, he had the greatest parents. He was a prince. And now, all of a sudden, he became unrelated to the King and the Queen, and lost his home.

Icarus looked at his father, hoping to hear that whatever Prometheus was telling wasn’t true or some part of misunderstanding. "Is it true? Am I not your son?"*****

Damonis stepped forward, reaching for him. "You are my heart, Icarus. It doesn’t matter who gave birth to you. You are my son—our son."

But Icarus pulled away, his heart beating to the peak. "However, it is also true that I was born for a reason." His eyes couldn’t meet their eyes that welled up in tears. "I have to go and embrace my destiny. Father, you have taught me that when a man is at the path of choosing duty and love, a man should always choose duty."

"Prometheus offered his hand. "Come with me. The heavens await."

Queen Thalassa was crying silently. Damonis looked as though he might fall apart.

Icarus looked at them—his mother’s trembling lips, his father’s clenched jaw. Then he looked at the flame dancing on Prometheus’ hands.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath.

He then stepped forward and gave a tight hug to his parents and said. "You asked me what I want, right? Father, Mother. I want you to hold onto that wish for a few more years. I promise that I will return for you both."

As he took Prometheus’s hand, the latter took out an apple from his pocket, handing it to Thalassa. "This is a present from Gaia, consider it as her blessing. Lady, eat this and you will become a mother once again. This time, you will have a child you will give birth to."

While Thalassa took it, there was no joy or happiness on her face or in her heart. She just took it in silence, her gaze fixated on the floor.

Without another word, Prometheus tightened his grip over Icarus’ hand, and together, they vanished in a burst of light, leaving the royal couple in stunned silence.

*

11 years later;

At the same time, far across the realms, beyond the mortal world and the safety of Athens, in the grassy expanse of Vanaheim, another scene unfolded under the cruel chill of an icy sky.

A young man stood at the center of the battlefield, his broad shoulders squared against the looming threats around him.

His face was set with determination, his grip firm on the hilt of a weapon. He looked strikingly similar to the figure Selene had painted, only far more hardened by the trials of war.

The young prince’s golden hair whipped in the biting wind, his eyes narrowed as he faced an army of towering ice giants that moved with thunderous steps. With a tight grip on his bow handle, he conjures an arrow enveloped by sparks of lightning. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

The arrow shot from the bow toward the dark clouds looming over the region. At once, strikes of lightning descended, striking a bunch of icy giants. The remaining, however, continued to charge at him.

"That’s a neat trick, Icarus." A voice commented from nearby. "But, it is too boring. Check out mine."

As Icarus turned his head, Mjölnir, the hammer of Thor, swung with tremendous force, smashing onto the Earth and releasing lightning strikes from the ground instead, striking the remaining icy giants and killing them in an instant.

"Thor..." Icarus smiled.

The battlefield, once teeming with the roar of ice giants, was now eerily quiet.

The ice giants, hulking creatures of massive strength, lay scattered across the grassy field, their bodies reduced to lifeless heaps of charred flesh and broken ice.

Icarus stood amidst the devastation, his chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths.

His golden armor, though dented and streaked with the remains of battle, still glimmered in the cold light of Vanaheim.

He raised his bow once more, pulling it with effortless precision as his eyes scanned the darkened sky above. His fingers loosened the string, and the arrow shot into the heavens, soaring higher and higher before disappearing into the clouds.

Then, a soft, steady drizzle began to fall.

The rain was warm, almost like the touch of a forgotten summer, and it washed over the battlefield.

It splashed against the charred remains of the giants, the blood-soaked battlefield, and the stains on his own armor. The droplets shimmered in the air, cleaning the blood.

Icarus closed his eyes for a moment, letting the rain fall on his face.

A faint, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "It’s finally over," he murmured to himself, his voice barely a whisper.

Once the rain ceased, Icarus started to walk away amidst the cheers of victory from this bunch of Asgardians with his bow slung over his shoulder, planning to return home.

But just as he reached his winged unicorn, his mount, the magical beast that can travel through realms with ease and take him anywhere he wants, he felt a large, warm hand land heavily on his shoulder.

Before he could react, Thor’s boisterous voice cut through the quiet like a thunderclap.

"Where do you think you’re going, young Icarus?" Thor asked, his voice deep and filled with playful authority. "You won’t leave without a proper after-war feast. Not on my watch."