Chapter Text
The clouds rolled over the skies as if the Anemoi’s winds had purposely set a destination, and they were running fashionably late regarding their course through Zeus’s territory. This constant crusade of the clouds thus indicated that there was a breeze coming forth from the Sea of Crete, or maybe perhaps the Mediterranean. Makoto could only speculate the trouble his parents would have been having with the tide regarding their fishing business, and how they would have compensated in return.
Even at the age of sixteen, Makoto Tachibana still hadn’t found the time to enroll himself in schools that other boys from as early as nine years old were put into to learn basic reading, writing, and arithmetic. Instead, because of his family’s financial situation, Makoto had remained in the care of his mother—not that he was complaining, (Heavens, no!) Makoto found pride in being taught by his mother, which was probably the reason why he was much more sensitive when it came to the fighting nature of other boys his age. He couldn’t relate to them, even though he could quote from Homer’s works, like any cultured young man was expected to. He was simply raised in a completely different environment.
His mother’s teachings were much more classical in a sense that she did not believe in war itself, and rejected the men that pushed for it, but rather choose to teach Makoto the value of the arts, thus making him appreciate the nature that he was surrounded by. Makoto’s mother told him that his delicate nature was a trait that would make others fools not to treasure. Makoto smiled, and nodded, but wasn’t so sure if he would ever be treasured like his mother described. These characteristics that made him different from the other boys his age, the ones that should have been “treasured,” made him quite an outcast. Makoto watched the other children play out in the streets with their other classmates on their way to the schools located in walking distance from the town of Iliad.
Makoto ran a hand through his brown locks and looked back to the sleeping bodies of his two younger siblings, Ren and Ran. He proceeded to tuck them in before he took his leave.
The last words that his mother had directed towards him before they had left the city of Iliad belonged in the great book of poems. “Don’t underestimate your worth, but do not be tempted to hold your value next to the Gods’ good will, Makoto.” / “It is the Gods that weigh your worth, Makoto, but if you underestimate yourself, they too, will devaluate you.”
And now they were both gone.
His mother’s grace was missed by many, but no one’s grief for her loss was greater than the remaining Tachibana trio. While Ren and Ran choose to give offerings to the Goddess Dimitri of fertility, a clear mother figure, Makoto held onto his share to lay before Poseidon’s temple.
His father had taught them to always put aside a generous offer to the Gods. Zeus, generally, always received the most goods from the town. But it was Poseidon that his father urged him never to forget, because their livelihood depended on its reign on the ocean, and His generosity. Makoto never forgot. It was the anniversary of his parent’s disappearance tonight, and Makoto wanted to give a special offering to Poseidon’s temple, because his parents preferred Him.
So Makoto ran through the streets, trying to avoid running into the traveling merchants and women whom were starting to take on the day’s chores.
“Rei!” Makoto called from a distance, waving the other young boy down. Out of the dozens of boys his age in the town, Rei was the only person that he could refer to as “friend.”
Rei Ryugazaki wore similar styled robes as his own, but Makoto’s hung from his body because they hadn’t been properly altered, and his mother never taught him how. Rei squinted at him, just to double check that it was, in fact, his friend Makoto.
Rei’s vision adjusted accordingly when Makoto was near him. He could see his features. “Morning, Makoto,” he said, quite calculating, inspecting the cloth satchel he was holding onto. “Going to do your morning offerings, I see.” Which was ironic on its own, because seeing was quite a challenge Rei.
“Yeah, I want to get in a prayer before I have to bring Ren and Ran later on. It would be nearly impossible otherwise,” Makoto commented sheepishly.
Rei nodded.
Makoto started to walk besides Rei. They were heading the same way, towards the temples. Rei’s mother watched from their home, and Makoto waved at her from afar when he saw her. Rei sighed to himself and shrugged on the satchel over his shoulder.
“You’ve never told me why you don’t like to give offerings, Rei,” Makoto commented over to him.
The answer that Makoto received must have been one that Rei had practiced for hours weeks beforehand.
“For one, no matter how many times a week we do give offerings to the Gods, nothing improves. It only seems to get worse around here. I do not see a positive correlation between the amount of money, food or other delicacies families have to give up in order to ‘satisfy’ the deities, and the quality of lifestyle.”
Rei had to take a breath.
“Also, blindness, or impaired vision, is expressed in mythology to be used as a punishment. I’ve been like this since birth. I do not see any valid reason why the Gods had to take away full capacity of my vision.”
Makoto had stopped to hold his breath in at one point. “I’m sorry I asked. I didn’t mean to upset you, Rei.”
Rei looked away. “I’m not upset. I was merely offering you an answer to the question you asked.”
“Uhn,” Makoto said.
Rei sighed. He hadn’t meant to silence the brunette. “You’re giving your share to Poseidon’s temple again, aren’t you?” He already knew the answer, but he figured that the atmosphere had tensed because of him in the first place.
Makoto nodded, holding the satchel close. “I guess I always chalk it up to being a sort of homage dedicated to my parents, because the sea always did right by them, but I think that Poseidon is by far the most mysterious of Gods. The sea is so… scary, but my parents never feared.”
It had been a year since they had disappeared. Makoto didn’t know what to do or what to say to Ren and Ran when days had dreaded on without their return past the date they had set. Makoto tried to comfort Ren and Ran saying that their parents must have been such great merchants on their way to the capital, that it would be a loss to return home so soon. However, the stories of success and promises of a richer return soured after weeks without a single word from his parents. Makoto assigned chores to Ren and Ran, and had to find a way to make a profit, or find items in which to barter for food and different utilities.
“There it is,” Rei mentioned, as they skipped past set stones, making their way up the marble pathway towards the little temple. In smaller towns, such as the one they currently resided in, there usually was one or two temples, and inside, there were homages dedicated to all of the Gods. Amateur sculptures and wall carvings on the stone wall depicted tales and displayed the humanoid versions of the Gods themselves.
Rei went over to the greatest section of the temple. Zeus’s share of the temple was the greatest. Makoto made his way to Poseidon’s, which was rightfully faced towards the oceans. He took out plates of food, and golden bracelets that he’d managed to exchange for uncountable hours of service. He laid them out carefully, as he got on his knees. The marble was cold against his skin.
He thought of his parents, and of his brother and sister. His overworked muscles ached as he remained in that position, his forehead pressed up against the cold granite.
“Please bless the Tachibana household.”