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The sweet goddess always made Asclepius’ heart miss a beat. She was a kind, calm woman who shared much of his ideologies. When patients were too sick to be saved - something that hurt Asclepius to the core every time, making him wish so badly to be allowed to utilize his full knowledge and skills again like back in the day - nothing could bring them greater relief than Epione’s soothing voice, singing to them until they fell asleep peacefully; and her warm hands that embraced man and woman alike, comforting them like children as they go; hands that in Asclepius’ dreams caressed his cheeks and held him with love…

But he could not care for that. He had work to do.

He looked up to her from his medical journals.

“A new patient arrived,” said Epione. “The priests can’t make out anything from his description of the problem, they think there may be an underlying mental issue…”

Asclepius didn’t need to hear more than that. He needed to see more. So he didn’t wait for the lovely woman to finish explaining and was already on his way to the over-ground. Practical and devoted, that was the only right way for a person to be if they wanted to heal.

The man Epione took him to see had terribly worn clothes on a body that was clearly not fine on the most superficial level. He was dirty, covered in filth that made Asclepius freight from the thought of the tiny, yet dangerous biosphere he probably carried - the first step towards healing in his temple was sanitation for a reason. So many possible infections and viruses…

He forced himself to move on. The man’s eyes were suspiciously yellow with bold red stripes, framed by two phenomenal black circles. The yellow usually meant jaundice, but Asclepius never rushed into conclusions without hearing the patient and examining them properly.

“…it aches like harsh waves that attempt to drown me, and I’m barely holding onto a floating surface,” the man mumbled, his hoarse voice shaking. “I want to scream in pain every day, they are stripping me down from my dignity, stripping me down from my compassion - alas, shall I give in? Only the gods know. They are always watching, always watching…”

The man definitely sounded mental. His nonsensical paranoia talk was probably caused by hallucinations - Either that, or he had a very creative mind.

There was one way to find out. Asclepius looked further than the surface, expecting to witness the vitals of a sick man, but something was wrong. All he saw was a melancholic mist of doom.

Was it a sign from the fates? Was the man destined to die?

“What is your name?” he asked.

“I shall not reveal my name to the people, for they will crucify me on the Agora, where no one can help nor understand the pain. Maybe I’m better off dying than living on this hill - “

“Move on to the other patients,” Asclepius addressed Epione and his priests. “I will take care of him.”

So they did, and Asclepius was in the clear to tell the man, “The people are gone. Will you tell me your name and what has been bothering you?”

“Will you not strap me away from the sunlight?” asked the man, almost crying. “I cannot trust you. Or them. We must get away from them or they will put me up on a cross - “

“And crucify you, yes. You’ve mentioned that.” Asclepius sighed. “We can move away from them, but only if you promise to talk to me.”

The man nodded vigorously and walked-ran to the entrance of the temple. Asclepius was annoyed to be dragged outside - the garden was taunting him, feeding him a bite of what he cannot have. He did not want to scare the man with godly powers, but if he wouldn’t cooperate soon…

“Look at me closely, son of Coronis,” the man whispered as Asclepius made his last step outside of foreign ears. “Do you not recognize me?”

Asclepius did not want to encourage a crazy sick man, but he was curious about the weird glooming mist, so looking again was actually a great idea…

Wait.

Mist.

It has been a long time since he was around another god in disguise, but once exposed, it has faded - And Asclepius’ breath was taken away by the site of the striking eyes and aura that couldn’t have belonged to anyone else but his own blood.

“I am Ialemus, your brother,” said the god of the mourning dirge, his eyes glimmering. He must’ve enjoyed the little show he put up so much. “And I am here to steal you without leaving a trail.”

Asclepius was left speechless for a moment.

“Well, I - I can’t let you do that,” he stuttered. “Zeus has forbidden me from leaving this temple. He already killed me once, I will not recklessly defy him again! you shouldn’t even be here - “

“I am here under the command of our father,” said Ialemus quietly. “He is worried sick. Has been in trenches since you were killed. Today is the perfect time for you to see him without being noticed.”

Asclepius felt like his internal organs were all ripped apart. He missed his family so much, had he really chance to see his father again…

His first thought was to alert Epione about leaving so that she keeps an eye on the right people while he’s gone, but that would’ve really been like shooting himself in the leg. He hasn’t seen the outside world in so long. 

Today is the perfect time.

“Alright then,” he said, knowing that in his old mortal body he would’ve already been sweating and feeling his heart race anxiously. “Steal me.”

As they walked away from the temple, Asclepius overthought his dangerous decision. It was likely that no one in the Asklepieion will question his dissapperance, because no one ever questioned him, and he’d often get really fixated on a problem and seemingly disappear for hours, even whole days. But actually being away was a very, very different situation. What if a fire starts in the temple while he’s absent? what if he’s needed so badly that any possible corner would be searched, and dozens of priests and mortals would reach the undeniable conclusion that he was gone, and the rumor would somehow reach Zeus -

“Don’t look so worried,” said Ialemus in a somewhat guilty voice. He was no longer a deranged man, but now a young, well dressed teen with long hair and his normal astonishing green eyes. “Do you not trust me? I assure you everything will be fine as long as we lay low - there is enough time to worry every other day. This is a rare occusion.”

Asclepius nodded. His brother was right - it would be amazingly dumb of him to waste these precious moments that could be spent admiring the world for its beauty: the different species of flowers that weren’t available near his temple, the sound of only footsteps and birds instead of many busy humans treating agony, and his most pessimistic sibling making an effort to keep him away from bad thoughts.

It made him a little emotional, but he held it together.

“Where are we headed?” He asked, trying to find an objective to focus on rather than going on with this long mental whining session.

“Olympia.”

“By foot? isn’t it a bit far?”

Ialemus chuckled. “Not by foot, no.”

They walked on for a while more before reaching a civil made pathway. In the near horizon stood a horse wagon, in front of which idled a few silhouettes of people. Outside world people. Not patients, not priests seeking to learn the art of healing, but simply bypassers.

Oh, how wonderful the world was. Asclepius wanted to impulsively greet them with as much friendliness as his heart could contain.

His awe only became greater as he got closer and realized those were not, in fact, mortal bypassers, but a bunch of faces he knew.

His famous love god brother Hymenaeus, wingless for a change; the hard working polymath Aristaeus; the inseparable, lively and gifted Borysthenis, Apollonis and Cephisso; and (Asclepius could not believe what his eyes witnessed) their father, who did not look any different from the last time Asclepius saw him, so long ago, before so much has changed…

“Hello,” said Apollo hesitantly, his voice shaking as if he was afraid to get to each next word. “We are going to see the Olympic games. I’ve heard they’re quite crowded.”

There was a moment of silence.

Asclepius hugged him tightly, no longer capable of holding in the tears he had collected for the longest, darkest time. Was it real? Did he even deserve such a blessing from the faiths?

Apollo pulled away. He held Asclepius’ hands from their wrists, as if checking for a pulse, then wrapped them with both his hands and whispered, “my beautiful boy.”

“I too love Asclepius very much,” said Apollonis, curling a strand of her light hair mindlessly and sending her brother a light smile to affirm her intentions, “but the whole point in choosing this crowded day was to blend in with a crowd. We should get going as soon as possible.”

“Mese, please,” Apollo sighed, his eyes still fixed on his son. 

“It’s alright,” said Ascelpius in a calm tone and got on the wagon first to help his family wake up from the awkward shock of the meeting. “I never got to see the olympic games, but… uh… are women not strictly forbidden from watching?”

“We are going as men,” chuckled Borysthenis with her deep, melodic voice and climbed after him. “It will be fun, won’t it?”

To prove her point, she demonstrated her well thought out man form.

“How is your temple?” Apollo asked after he got on last, and nodded to Aristeus who sat in front leading the horses as a sign to leave. “Are you making friends?”

“The mortals are… well…” Asclepius sighed. “I did not realize how distant it can get. But there is one goddess who hangs around. She is nice.”

Hymenaeus turned his head so quickly that anatomy-oriented Asclepius expected his neck to snap. “How nice?”

That made Asclepius blush.

Cephisso raised her eyebrows. “Indeed, how nice? Some sibling of yours has been desperately playing matchmaker with their sisters for far too long. And I will help you out, it is not me.”

“It’s hymenaeus,” Ialemus disclosed.

“Mock him all you want, I am thankful for my wife,” said Aristeus. “She gives me a sense of direction, something you could all use.”

“That is why you are the one driving,” Cephisso turned to him to respond wittily. “I am content in the back seat, thank you very much.”

“How are your wife and children doing, really?” Asclepius asked. 

There was a moment of silence. And then Apollo said, “Actaeon died, my love.”

Asclepius’ heart could’ve very well just fallen on the floor and shattered into a million pieces.

“What?”

Everyone looked at him. He didn’t even know Actaeon that well, but it felt terrible to miss so much of his loved ones’ lives that he had to learn about their death in retrospect. It was incredibly isolating.

You could’ve cured him had you been there, said his mind. There was not even a hint of self blame in that thought, just bitterness - because the only thing Asclepius did to make Zeus forbid him from curing people too sick was curing people too sick. How fair and just.

“How… How did it happen?”

His sisters glanced at each other, and Ialemus gulped. “We don’t have to talk about this now…”

“No,” hissed Aristeus. “Why are you all chickening out? Artemis killed him - cursed his own dogs to devour him. All that was left were bones.”

Artemis? but she was always nice to Asclepius, he even resurrected Hippolytus of Athens for her -

Why the surprise? Do you not remember who else she killed? His desperate internal voice whispered. Your own mother.

And the shattered left-overs were stepped on, made into crumbs.

He looked over at Apollo, hoping that his father would give him something - an explanation, even just say it was a misunderstanding - but his hopes quickly died out. Apollo looked completely dissociated.

Asclepius laid his head on his father’s shoulder. “Dad,” he mumbled, “please.”

The god slowly began to stroke his child’s dark curls. “What?”

“That exactly.”

Apollo was clearly confused, but did not ask again. Instead he gestured at the view with his head. “Look.”

They have gotten closer and closer to civilization. Other people, animals and human architecture filled the surrounding areas. Olympia.

The city was way more impressive than Asclepius’ childhood hometown, where his temple was located - it was definitely far more sophisticated than Chiron’s ephemeral residence, where Asclepius actually grew up and the old centaur taught young demigods useful skills such as survival and medicine. 

These places were sticks and stones in comparison to Olympia. She was bustling with life, astonishing buildings that were tens of adult steps in size, and beautiful domestic gardens. Asclepius has never seen anything like that before.

“Wow,” he barely managed to croak.

“Wise words,” said Apollonis and disguised herself as a short pubescent boy with dark coal eyes without any mortals noticing. “Look at us, driving around Olympia in a normal human wagon, like a normal family.”

“Don’t be so cynical,” Hymenaeus complained. “We are here to have fun. Why don’t we all lay back a little and ignore bothersomeness for a while?”

Ialemus raised his hand. “I would like to second that. Rare occasion and all.”

“I was not being cynical, morons. Just commentering the scene.”

“Cynically.”

“I commentered joyfully,” Apollonis insisted. “You were just looking for an excuse to lecture us about lifting the spirits, and hopefully make this ride less depressing.”

“I did not say anything about the ride being depressing - “

“So Actaeon being dead is simply a normal conversation topic for you, I presume? Is it the same as the fucking weather?”

“Do not weaponize my son like that, Apollonis,” grumbled Aristeus, and the two fell silent immediately. “He is not an argument either.” he sighed. “I get it, alright? I ruined the morale. But you are fighting the wrong front, Hymen - She was trying to change the topic herself. So really, can we all be nice and not make Asclepius regret leaving with us?”

“Look at you, parenting your sibling,” said Apollo amusingly, his sudden glowing smile heavily contrasting the prior fatigued expression. “I swear it was only yesterday that I met your gorgeous mother. How have you all grown up so quickly?”

Asclepius did not feel like he grew up quickly at all, but rather the opposite - he felt like he was stranded in a pit of uncertainty for so long but didn’t get the chance to evolve in any way what-so-ever during that time. He had not even reached legal adulthood before dying - did that mean he was going to stay like this forever, stuck between the stages of a child and a man?The thought terrified him.

“We are almost there,” said Aristeus. “If any content ladies in the back still present as ladies, now would be the time to get it over with.”

Cephisso rolled her eyes. “We have fully manned up.”

“Alright then.”

They parked the wagon at a walking distance from the flat stadium on which the event was about to take place, and got off, successfully blending into the mobbed street. Asclepius was amazed to see so many people all headed to the same location. He could spot some of the athletes who have been preparing for this moment for months.

“Before participating, they must swear that they are free men and clean of legal accusations,” said Apollo. “Why do you think that is?”

“No one wants to crown a murderer,” Asclepius answered. His father pondered that idea for a moment, which was a little bizarre, then nodded in affirmation.

The games themselves were not at all underwhelming; Asclepius cheered in awe of the mortals who were able to push through the pain of being human and run so fast along the huge field. Some of them pushed too hard, though.

“He must have ruptured his Achilles tendon!” Asclepius pointed out as one racer fell crying on the ground. “Did you see how his leg twisted? He would not be able to even walk properly again, not given the local standard of medicine!”

“Poor thing!” Borysthenis intoned. “He looks quite fine. What a waste!”

Apollo rolled his eyes but looked positively entertained. “You both have yourself some great pairs of eyes, though for different purposes.”

Asclepius hugged his father again with no sensible context, just to cherish this moment better. Borysthenis side-eyed him and then moved over to share her boy-craze with her sisters.

“I’m sorry,” said Apollo, somewhat surprised, making even less sense.

Asclepius glanced at his cheering sibling, then his father. “I miss you,” he said in a fairly loud volume, yet got undermined by the environment. “I miss everyone so bad. And I hate what my life has become.”

It was almost easier to express his mourning out in the open due to the noise of competitive tension, which naturally involved screaming, chatter and excited exclamations. He couldn’t have said it if he had thought he would have his father’s full attention - he didn’t want to waste this valuable resource all on himself.

Apollo opened his mouth to reply, but hesitated. Then he gulped. “I wish I knew how to help you.”

“I don’t want to be ungrateful, you know?” said Asclepius, a little quieter. “I’m alive again, and a god this time - But still, I feel like everything was taken away from me.”

The eternally youthful yet older man looked back at the field. Someone has just won with great success, causing the people from his hometown to cheer even louder and even burst into tears.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard… After you died, I was sent to earth as a mortal slave.”

Asclepius nodded.

“It was supposed to be a punishment. I was stripped of my immortality, power and honor. But it ended up not being that bad, especially in comparison to the first time…” Apollo narrowed his eyes. “The technicality didn’t matter. I had the privilege of spending some of this time with someone I loved.”

“I love healing,” said Asclepius, almost laughing out of frustration.

“But that’s not enough. You need human contact,” said Apollo. “Being all alone, giving all you’ve got all of the time - it doesn’t do anyone good. If only I could do more than lecturing you…” He sighed. “You are a bright kid, Asclepius. Weave yourself a net of people, alright?”

Asclepius lowered his gaze. His hands were clean and in a healthy color, like always. “The games are almost over.”

“They don’t really have a variety of events yet, huh? The ride here was longer.”

“You are deflecting,” Asclepius pointed out. 

Apollo sighed. “Even now that you are immortal, my only wish is to have more time,” he admitted, his eyes glimmering. “Do you resent me, Asclepius?”

“Why - of course not, dad.”

Apollo nodded, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” said Asclepius. “You completely ignored the rules again, just to grant me temporal escapism. Which I must say, was a bit crazy of you.”

“Me? Crazy”

Apollo smiled mischievously, almost tricking Asclepius into thinking that he would be completely and utterly fine with not seeing his flesh and blood again for who-knows-how-long.

“I intend to go back to my temple alone,” Asclepius informed him. “It’s safer.”

“Your call. Say goodbye to your siblings, then?”

Asclepius was not looking forward to calling it a day. His brothers and sisters joined the crazy scheme just to see him and cheer him up - and the funny thing was, he was not really that close to them, as most of them were ancient beings with a crazed mind and he was just a dead kid. But they showed complete solidarity anyway, and made him happier than any loyal priest could.

He hugged each one of these wonderful, caring souls and told them how much he loved them, how much he was grateful.

He was determined not to lose all touch with this feeling the moment he’s back in the Asklepieion.

Things could change for the better.