Mountain of the Immortals

Zeus took a deep breath of the Texan humidity left behind by the previous night's storm. He stared up at the wooden ceiling while still lying in bed, thinking of all the might-have-beens in his life--those paths he didn't take after he broke away from his father's guild, the partners and friends he made along the way, and those he'd eventually parted ways with.

After a few moments, he felt the urge to get out of bed and do something. He was the king of Olympus, after all. He couldn't just sit in bed doing nothing. He had to do something. Anything.

For centuries, millennia even, he'd gotten used to going to bed late and waking up early, putting in the work when no one else would. When everyone was tired, Zeus just had to persevere, for these were the moments that defined him as something special. A god who was destined to rule over all other gods. Not because of his lineage, or what he'd inherited. But because of putting in the work, every damned day.

Perhaps it was because of this that he was feeling tired. Not physically, never physically. But it was extremely easy to push all thoughts of rest and relaxation to the back of his mind when his body was as healthy as ever. Being immortal had that effect on people, which was probably why so many gods simply went crazy after a while.

He had earned this trip, however, and the break it represented. He was determined to push himself to relax. How hard could it be anyway?

It took ten minutes of restless turning in the bed, the spring mattress creaking under him every time he moved, before he decided that perhaps he could just redefine rest as an activity he could do while not laying down. Immediately, he got out of bed and washed his face, taking a good look at himself in the mirror.

The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth had grown deeper. Being a god of his stature meant that he could swipe them away with a flick of his fingers, but the wrinkles, the long white beard and hair, and the tired eyes matched how he was feeling. He had been through a lot, and seen even more.

He wasn't just going to change his face back into the one he had when he was a god on the rise. No, that was part of Aphrodite's charm, not his. He was perfectly fine with how he looked, and that was the most important thing. Being happy with himself.

Zeus walked out of the room and into the spacious kitchen of the house where he would be spending the next days. The place was filled with the busts of all sorts of beasts in all sorts of sizes. Some were predatory birds from the elemental plane of air, others looked like a mix between a catoblepas and an elephant. All of them had been magically preserved to look as if they were about to jump out of the wall and attack those who had killed them.

"You like 'em dead?" Jacob Daniels asked, taking out a thick package of bacon from his refrigerator.

"I bet I like them better dead than alive," Zeus said, and pointed at a beast that looked like a cross between a king cobra snake and a bear. "Especially that one."

"Little bastard almost had me making pals with the worms," Jacob replied as he threw thick strips of meat into a large pan. "Eyes that charm and muscles that crush are a terrifying combination."

"A prize worth having on your wall," Zeus said, and went to help the old man.

"Now don't be making your way into a man's kitchen, Mr. Zeus," Jacob said. "You are my guest, and as a guest you only have to worry about getting your story out and unwinding. I've got some freshly made pastries for after the bacon."

"Didn't mean to intrude, Mr. Daniels." Zeus apologized and stepped back. "I didn't have you down as a man of the kitchen. Bacon and pastries. You amaze me."

"Don't be too amazed," he replied, raising his voice above the sizzling fat in the pan. "Bacon is my love, and that's why I do it myself. But the pastries and the rest of what we'll be eating are not of my own creation. I have a lady come help me around the house every so often. Mighty fine of her to help, and I provide her with whatever produce I can."

"She must have been quite happy to see that your fields were watered then?" Zeus asked.

"Why do you think we're having croissants today instead of plain bread?" the man said, starting to flip the bacon strips. "Take your seat on the porch if you like, and I'll join you when I'm done here."

Zeus did as the man suggested, this time opting for a non–rocking chair, and looked out over the expanse of fields that still carried some morning dew. This was far more relaxing than sitting in bed and looking at the ceiling. His eyes were able to lose focus for a while and he didn't feel the need to check on his notifications, alliance chat, or anything else. It was him and the beauty of the Texan landscape.

Then the door opened and the smell of bacon reached him. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he dug into the lavish breakfast that Jacob Daniels brought to him on a wooden trolley. As much as Zeus enjoyed ambrosia and other divine delights, the simple imperfections and chemical imbalances of mortal-made food were currently firing up his taste buds like nothing he had tried in a long while.

"You gave me a lot to think about last night, Mr. Zeus," the man said, after swallowing the last bite of his chocolate-filled croissant. "But as with every creative endeavor, I find myself wondering how I should start."

"How to start the book?" Zeus asked. "You didn't like the moment where I started the story?"

"Your story is perfect in all of its parts," the man rushed to say. "But there should be some kind of introduction to the story, if you understand what I'm saying? Laying the ground for a fine tale is not an easy task and it took me quite a few turns in bed before I thought of something that allowed me to fall asleep."

"And what was that?" Zeus asked.

"'Y'all know what happened when the devil came down to Georgia, but do you know what transpired when Zeus went down to Texas?' or something of the sort," the man said in one breath. "How does that sound to you?"

Zeus looked away from old man and sipped on his strong coffee while fixing his gaze on the fields. He thought about it for a few seconds before nodding in approval.

"I like it," he finally said. "Has a nice ring to it. I also gave some thought to how I should continue my story."

"What did you decide, Mr. Zeus?" the man asked, and patted his crumb-covered overalls, having now finished with his breakfast.

"I think it's best if I lay out the facts in chronological order," the god of thunder replied, "and you can decide what to include and how it should be said."

Jacob nodded. "Shall we get on with it?"

"You got enough coffee to last us until lunch?" Zeus asked.

"We have enough until second breakfast," he replied.

"A man of great taste and quality of life, I see."

"I ain't got much, Mr. Zeus, but what I got, I like to enjoy."

"As you should."

Both of the men stood up, iced coffee in their hands, and moved over to the rocking chairs that were just out of reach of the sun's rays. "Now, where were we?"

"You killed the hundred-headed dragon and were planning to expand the guildhall and your ranks."

"That's right," Zeus said, and pushed himself back just enough to get the chair moving. "Growing stronger, and getting more gods to help us."