The centaur sage by the river rose on all four hooves from the verdant grass and turned back to look at the old man behind him.
"He's gone?"
"Mmm…"
"You should be leaving soon, too, right?"
"More or less."
Lorne nodded, bent down to sit on a green stone, then skillfully took out paper and pen, suddenly adopting a serious demeanor, and asked earnestly.
"So, who were we talking about last time?"
"Ouranos(Uranus), the Heavenly Father."
"Very good, Teacher Centaur. Please continue—I'm listening."
"..."
Chiron glanced at the blind old man in front of him, ultimately gave up correcting the strange form of address, and patiently began recounting the ancient past of the first-generation Titan god Ouranos.
A few days earlier, this self-proclaimed "Homer," the blind poet, had arrived at Mount Pelion under the pretext of seeking medical treatment.
But during the consultations, he showed no concern at all for his own condition.
Instead, he was enthusiastically asking all sorts of bizarre questions.
For example: Where did original life come from?
Did a sovereign named "Chaos" exist within the ancient primordial void?
What exactly was the past of the twelve Titans?
In the age of the Titans, did the gods behave more like humans or more like beasts?
Before the female Pandora descended, how exactly did the original golden race of humanity reproduce?
These difficult inquiries spanned customs and folklore, historical legends, rumors, secrets, and more.
Many, even he himself, could not answer, so he could only explain the small portion he knew.
Yet the old man was extraordinarily satisfied.
And to obtain more and more detailed information, this peculiar elder had already been lingering on Mount Pelion for several days, using his blindness and need for treatment as an excuse.
A gentle breeze blew.
As the audience, the old man listened quietly to Chiron's explanations while the pen tip scratched softly across the page.
Line after line of solemn, beautiful, sacred verses was engraved onto the blank parchment.
"Ouranos, who begets all things, the constant element of the cosmos,
the most ancient god, the beginning and the end of everything,
O Father of the universe, you encircle the earth like a planet,
O dwelling place of the blissful gods, you traverse in an instant,
guarding heaven and earth, enveloping all creation!
You bear within you the unconquerable necessity of nature.
Deep blue within you, unconquerable, radiant, ever-changing,
O outstanding spirit of bliss, you see all things, you shall beget Kronos,
Hear me now, grant your devotee a holy life."
As the final line was completed, the blind old man contentedly set the parchment scroll aside to dry and continued his questioning.
"Good. Next—the second-generation god-king Kronos? What kind of being was he?"
The sage Chiron pondered for a moment, then gave his usual fair and measured description.
The old man's pen moved once more.
While the scratching of the nib continued, Chiron caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye: around the blind elder, the invisible air seemed to hold nine graceful shadowy figures, faintly appearing and disappearing.
Whenever the phrasing paused or the wording needed refinement, those nine figures reacted differently:
Some grasped the elder's arm to guide the pen in his stead; others hummed softly in his ear to soothe his mood;
Some brushed across those gray-white eyes, widening his vision within the chaos; others gently cradled that aged head in their embrace, awakening the dried-up spring of inspiration.
…
At the same time, the old face's expression, temperament, and bearing seemed to shift constantly, now somber, now joyful; now solemn, now carefree; now furious, now tranquil… as though countless roles, countless memories, countless personalities surged into that mind, all coloring the sacred verses flowing from his pen.
"Kronos, father of men and gods, you who never age,
cunning, pure, strong, and brave Titan,
You destroy all and regenerate all,
You tightly embrace the boundless cosmos in undying bonds,
Kronos, eternal lord of time, Kronos of a thousand faces and colors in speech,
son of Gaia and star-filled Ouranos!
You are birth, growth, and decay; husband of Rhea, dignified forerunner.
You dwell in every corner of the cosmos, ancestor of the living,
You are cunning in counsel, bravest of all! Hear my words of prayer,
Grant my life a rich and blameless end."
The period fell, and the scratching pen stopped as the old man showed a satisfied smile and handed the parchment filled with characters across to the other side.
"How is it?"
Looking at the sacred verses in his hand, Chiron's eyes filled with amazement, as though he could see through the paper into the grand, vanished [history].
A certain figure from memory seemed to leap vividly onto the page.
But there was one imperfection.
"It's written too well."
"Which line?"
"I mean the portrayal of the character…"
Chiron looked at the description of [Kronos] on the parchment and honestly pointed out the flaw.
Lorne, hearing this, could not help but laugh in silence.
This centaur sage Chiron, was, in fact, a full divinity born to the Titan king Kronos and the goddess Philyra.
But because Kronos had coupled with Philyra in the form of a horse, Chiron was born in the shape of a centaur.
His mother, Philyra, unwilling to nurse him because of his monstrous appearance, eventually transformed into a linden tree.
Combined with Kronos's reputation for devouring his own children, Chiron naturally held no particularly favorable view of his parents.
In response to the subject's own objection, Lorne, the author, brought out the prepared excuse he had ready.
"Since these are sacred verses praising the gods and creation, naturally, they must show their brighter side. A little idealization is only proper."
Chiron thought for a moment, nodded in agreement, and because of his own impoliteness, cast a slightly apologetic glance.
Teacher Centaur—truly a good man!
Seeing this, Lorne inwardly marveled at encountering such a rare 24k pure good person in the land of Greece.
At the same time, he could not help feeling a twinge of guilt over certain unspoken concealments.
After all, as a thorough pragmatist, he would have to be stuffed and bored to bother whitewashing that scoundrel Kronos.
The real reason was that by cleaning up Kronos's image, he could indirectly tarnish Zeus's act of usurpation.
As humanity on the earth gradually grew stronger, the gods evidently had not yet realized that the era in which culture determines faith had arrived.
The pen is mightier than the sword.
If one controls this discourse, reshaping the image of the gods in literature and history would inevitably influence human faith toward different deities.
And slipping in private goods has always been a favorite pastime of those who wield the pen.
But to create literary works that would be praised throughout the ages and expand influence required the finest minds and inspiration.
In addition to a certain purpose he inherited from his family, it was precisely for this deeper purpose that Lorne had risked thoroughly offending Apollo by taking the nine Muses from the sun god's hands.
Now, under the guise of this journey to the mortal world, he was working together with them under the alias [Homer] to carry out the plan he had long been plotting.
—To revise the [Orphic Hymns], compile the [Theogony], and, while he was at it, secretly grind his own Dionysian doctrines into fine powder and mix them in.
Of course, to maintain the appearance of impartiality, he needed to visit the parties involved and those in the know, conducting "historical material collection."
The kind-hearted Chiron was his first interview subject.
Beyond that, he had other designs on this Teacher himself.
Perhaps because the linden tree his mother had become was a species benevolent to the world, its flowers could be used in medicine, and its bark for divinatory tablets, Chiron, despite lacking parental love, never harbored resentment against the world.
Instead, he grew up striving to learn and become a sage.
In general, the centaur race, apart from being outstanding hunters who combined the lower horse body with superb archery, also had a barbaric side, prone to plundering all sorts of goods.
For example, the centaur tribes Lorne and Artemis had encountered in Arcadia were the untamable, wild sort.
Only Chiron carried the distinct impression of a "sage."
His gentle character was unique among the centaurs.
The grown Chiron was versed in all kinds of knowledge.
Thanks to his steady temperament and skillful teaching methods, countless "future heroes" of Greece had studied under him.
Heracles, Achilles, Asclepius (who later became the god of medicine), Castor (who became part of Gemini), and many others were his students.
Jason, the leader of the Argonauts who later joined Medea, was also among them.
His disciples truly filled the world.
The reason Lorne had chosen to come first to this Horse Teacher's residence was twofold: on one hand, he had been entrusted by his old lover Artemis to look after her cheap nephew Asclepius; on the other, he intended to poach talent for Athena.
—The goddess of wisdom had followed his suggestion and established the [Academy of Athens] in the city, focusing on the popularization of academics and magic.
Since it was newly founded, both faculty and students were in extremely short supply.
The sage Chiron, whose disciples already blanketed the world, was undoubtedly the most suitable candidate.
Moreover, as the unwelcome son of Kronos, Chiron was also well-suited to be developed into an ally against Olympus.
Though he himself sought no conflict with the world, in this chaotic age, refusing to contend was merely weakness that invited bullying; it did not guarantee that fate would spare you at the critical moment.
According to what Lorne knew, one day in the future, while mediating a dispute among centaur tribes, this great good man Chiron would be struck by a stray, poisoned arrow from who-knows-where.
And because of his own immortality, he would endure endless agony.
Only when the peace-loving centaur sage became Sagittarius, joined Olympus, adorned the divine authority of the heavens, and returned his immortality to the gods did he finally escape the torment.
And the one who shot that poisoned arrow had been none other than his most outstanding disciple—the great hero Heracles.
Moreover, Heracles had merely clashed with a group of centaurs while fighting over a barrel of fine wine brewed by the wine god.
The hot-tempered great hero had chased and beaten the centaurs who angered him all the way.
But one arrow he shot at the centaurs grazed an unlucky one's arm and unfortunately, struck Chiron in the knee.
In this tragedy, besides Heracles and that group of centaurs, the poison on the arrowhead came precisely from the Hydra slain by the mighty Heracles himself.
A cluster of "coincidences" forming fate, if there was no foul play, Lorne himself would not believe it.
Therefore, whether as a suspect in the case or simply to give the King of Olympus a headache, he had every reason to snuff out this possible future and lure the multi-talented Teacher Centaur to Athens.
Thinking of this, Lorne straightened his expression and spoke gravely.
"Mr Centaur, your disciple Asclepius has already accepted the invitation from the Academy of Athens. He plans to reunite with you in Athens after finishing his travels in Cyprus. Through the revelations of fate, I seem to have glimpsed some rather unpleasant things that may happen to him. So…"
Chiron fell silent for a moment upon hearing this, and then took out the bronze gorgon emblem from his robes.
After several days of hesitation, he finally made up his mind and replied solemnly.
"Athens? Very well—I will go."
Seeing that he had finally tricked this centaur sage onto the pirate ship, a certain unscrupulous god who specialized in fooling honest people showed a satisfied smile.
Buy one, get one free—perfect!
(End of chapter)