Blessing of the Gods

The Olympian gods, in their infinite wisdom, decided to bless humanity with magic. Sounds like a fairy tale, right? Gods, humans, magic—just what you need for another epic fantasy. Except, let me tell you, the reality isn't as cool as it sounds. As always, the gods just don't want to get their divine hands dirty, so us humans have to do the work.

You see, when the cracks first opened hundreds of years ago, humanity discovered something buried deep in myth: the gods weren't just legends—they were our ancestors. Their blood flowed through humanity for centuries, dormant and forgotten. But when the rifts started to appear on Earth, that divine power awoke, surging through those lucky—or unlucky—enough to carry their bloodline.

At first, it looked too good to be true. All of a sudden, people had amazing skills that were connected to the gods' domains. Descendants of Zeus commanded lightning and storms, Poseidon's heirs bent water and tides to their will, and Apollo's children wielded the power of light and healing. Their glowing eyes marked their lineage: Zeus's children had golden lightning-streaked eyes, Poseidon's shimmered with oceanic blues, and Apollo's radiated with a warm, golden hue.

For me, my awakening as a descendant of Apollo felt… complicated. Healing came naturally—like breathing—but everything else? Not so much. All those legends about Apollo's kids mastering music, archery, and combat alongside their light-based magic? That wasn't me. I'd spent years trying to train in other areas, only to hit wall after wall. No matter how hard I pushed, I could only get better at healing.

It wasn't that I didn't value it. Healing was vital, and I was better at it than anyone else in my class, but it didn't stop people like Nolan and Lucas from treating me like a one-trick pony. They'd remind me—constantly—that I couldn't fight, couldn't defend myself, and couldn't do anything flashy. But I didn't let that bother me. Much.

Right now, I'm standing outside a dungeon portal with my wonderful classmates on an exclusive school trip. Yes, a school trip. What's more educational than dragging a bunch of sixteen-year-olds into a rift filled with monsters for a hands-on "learning experience"? Who needs textbooks when you have life-threatening danger, am I right?

Our teacher, Professor Calloway, stood at the front of the group, practically buzzing with excitement. She wasn't like most teachers. She was gentle, caring, and highly protective of her students because she was descended from the goddess of fertility and agriculture, Demeter. She had a peaceful aura that made you want to trust her, as if she could grow a garden in the middle of a battlefield, and her soft, green eyes sparkled slightly, a testament to her heavenly heritage.

"This will be a great experience," she said, her voice carrying a warmth that almost made you forget we were about to walk into a death trap. "Remember, teamwork is key. Stay in formation, follow Nolan's lead, and I'll be nearby if you need assistance."

Nolan Drake, our fearless leader, stood at the front of the group, his purple hair catching the light like he'd just stepped out of a shampoo commercial. His piercing blue eyes glowed faintly with golden lightning streaks, a clear mark of his Zeus lineage. Nolan doesn't walk—he commands. Gravity bends to his will, storms gather at his fingertips, and when he lets loose, it's like the wrath of a god. Of course, his ego has an even stronger gravitational pull.

Next to him was Lucas Marlowe, the group's resident water-wielding golden boy and Nolan's number one supporter. His bright red hair practically glowed, matching the constant smirk on his face. Lucas's eyes, a shifting blue-green like the ocean, reflected his Poseidon heritage. He could summon waves out of thin air, wield water as both a shield and a weapon, and when he fought, it was like watching a storm in motion—unpredictable and devastating. But don't let his calm demeanor fool you. Like the sea, he can be ruthless.

And then there's me—Ethan, the descendant of Apollo. My healing abilities were second to none, but that's all I had going for me. I didn't summon lightning or split oceans. My gift was slower, quieter, and less dramatic. Most of my classmates came from families tied to power—magic academies, research institutes, government offices. Me? I grew up in a tiny apartment above a bakery, helping my mom around the bakery. Her cookies are unbeatable, by the way.

"All right," Nolan said, his voice clear and authoritative. "First responders, you're up. Stay sharp, help out, and stay alert. And, Ethan…" Oh, here it comes.

"…you get to carry the bags."

The group chuckled, all too relaxed and a bit harsh, as if this was just another one of those delightful inside jokes aimed right at me. I rolled my eyes but didn't bother to argue. Someone had to carry the begs, and honestly, it didn't bother me.

"Got it, boss," I said with a sarcastic tone. "Wouldn't want to hinder your noble adventure with these incredibly burdensome sandwiches."

Lucas chuckled, leaning lazily on his spear. "Hey, someone's gotta carry the bags. Be grateful we even brought you along."

"You mean the teacher dragged me here," I shot back, my voice casual. "I'd love to stay in the classroom. It's nice and cozy. And, you know, safe."

The portal before us swirled with eerie energy, its surface shimmering with reflections that didn't quite match reality. It cast a strange glow on the group, making Nolan's lightning-streaked eyes seem brighter, Lucas's oceanic gaze deeper, and Professor Calloway's green eyes warmer. I hung back as everyone stepped closer, my body feeling heavier with every step. To them, this was just another chance to show off their incredible powers. For me, it was a drag.

"Remember, stay together," Professor Calloway reminded us, her voice firm yet kind. "This dungeon is low-ranking, but it's still dangerous. Work as a team."

"Got it, Professor," Nolan said smoothly, flashing her a confident smile. Of course he did. He probably wakes up in the morning and practices that smile in the mirror.

The rest of the class moved toward the portal, chattering excitedly about the adventure ahead. I followed last, staring at the swirling energy with a mix of focus and determination.

The moment my foot crossed the threshold, a chill ran down my spine. It wasn't the cold—it was something else, a quiet hum in the air, like the dungeon itself was alive. My instincts screamed at me to turn back, but I shook it off, ignoring it as a fluke.