Child of the times that I am, it was the fire-theft theme that drew me to write the present work. The creation theme is wholly absent; the torment present only as a threat to Titek's future. Like Zeus, the Zealots hoard their knowledge from lesser beings; like him, they punish those who disagree with them unmercifully and without reference to motive.
It is the fear of losing power through the spread of knowledge that intrigues me; that, and the suicidal (because it inevitably arouses the ire of Zeus) determination of Prometheus to spread that knowledge. Thus, I decided to explore the moment the "fire" was transferred from the possession of "Zeus" to humanity.
My exploration was a joyful one. What, I asked myself, if Prometheus wasn't aware that he had upset Zeus? Or what if he had a specific reason for defying Zeus's will? What if he was under duress? Or...what if he never meant to give humanity fire--the art of writing--at all? What (I postulated, bouncing in the ruts of many a SF writer) if the Titans and Olympians were advanced beings from outer space who landed on Earth thousands of years ago? What if they came back now, or a hundred years from now? What would they be like without a thousand years of retelling (by storytellers more eager in thrills and omnipotence than in accuracy) to turn them into gods?
So, finding that I had both desire and tools, I wrote it. And I can only console myself, and you, by reminding us both that, though I have dared to tread, page-like, in the footsteps of the gods of art and literature, I am only the latest to do so, and will most certainly not be the last.
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