Flames of Freedom: Man against the Gods

Prologue: The Twilight of the Gods

The sacred mountains rose high above the clouds, their white marble temples glowing in the sunset. This was the domain of the gods: inviolable, majestic, surrounded by an aura of sacredness and terror. For too long, humanity had lived with its heads bowed, crushed under the weight of insensitive deities. The gods considered themselves superior beings, destined to rule, while men were mere pawns, destined to serve or be sacrificed for their entertainment.

At dusk, the air in the towns and villages was thick with tension. Each day the sun retreated behind the sacred mountains, leaving the Earth in a shadow that seemed longer and more oppressive, as if the power of the gods was a night that never gave way to true dawn. In the village of Theoros, the temple bells rang out in a hollow tone, announcing the choice of the “Tribute of Life”. This was an annual ritual, a human sacrifice that the gods demanded as a sign of devotion and submission.

Arion’s family had been chosen. No one knew how fate decided the sacrifices: perhaps the will of the gods was arbitrary like the roll of a divine dice, perhaps it was the punishment for some presumed sin. What was certain was the desperation that fell on the house of the chosen ones. Arion, a twenty-year-old with dark hair and fiery eyes, could not accept seeing his younger sister, Lyria, delivered to the altars. Lyria was only twelve years old, too fragile an age to be offered to the gods, too innocent to be broken.

The night before the sacrifice, Arion wandered like a shadow around the house, unable to find peace. As darkness fell, an unexpected visitor arrived: old Telem, the wise man of the village. Telem was a fragile man, with a long, snow-white beard, who had always kept himself away from the affairs of the younger ones. But that night he knocked on Arion’s door, and an urgent hope shone in his eyes.

“Arion,” he said in a husky but determined voice, “you must not accept this fate. Not for Lyria, not for anyone else.” He placed a scroll wrapped in worn hides in Arion’s hands. “This map leads to a secret place, to a source of power that the gods fear, a secret forgotten over the centuries. Only those willing to risk everything can break the chains that bind us.”

Arion studied Telem, seeking the meaning of his words. Those promises of liberation seemed impossible, the result of senile delirium. But his mother’s tears and Lyria’s terrified eyes gave him the courage to listen. He had to try. He had to believe there was a way to change fate.