“Your divinity,”

The titan bows

The angel nods

Polite

As he always is

“What do you desire?”

 

“One of my followers has been taken.”

The titan’s fists clench

The angel takes and holds one

Gentle

As he always is

“You want him back.”

 

“Yes,”

The titan nods

The angel examines the massive hand

Thoughtful

As he always is

“Who has taken him?”

 

“The followers of Zeus.”

The titan offers the angel a charm

The angel takes it

Clam

As he always is

“This was his?”

 

“It was.”

The titan’s gaze drops.

The angel watches him

Attentive

As he always is

“What is it?”

 

“He has done nothing to offend you

Or your father.

He has done nothing to offend the gods or spirits

He does not deserve the fate the followers of Zeus will give him.”

The titan heats up

Stolen fire burning hot

The angel lets him

Unafraid

As he always is

“You remind me of my father.”

 

“What?”

The titan watches in shock

He had not foreseen this

 

“Your hands are like his.”

The angel traces lines of calluses

His touch is soft

As it always is.

“They’ve been used.”

 

The titan says nothing

Stunned

As he rarely is

The angel continues

Contemplative

As he usually is

“They’ve made things, and changed things

For mankind

And for men.”

 

“Will you help me?”

The titan asks

The angel considers

Unhurried

As he always is

“I will.”

 

The angel returns the charm

With its symbol of fire

To Prometheus

“For you

and for your hands.”

He pauses as he turns to leave

Relaxed

As he always is

“I will deliver him to your house.”

 

“Thank you, Lord Azrael.”

The titan bows

The angel nods, and departs

Polite

As he always is​