TEGSF Part 5
Part 5: In which Germany makes many friends and encounters a mild setback
Thus, with thanks to the stormy eyed England, great Germany had his vessel. Now, the heroic mortal simply lacked a crew. A crew to sail the fierce seas, a group of heroes to face the foes he would no doubt encounter upon the arduous journey the ends of the earth. And so, Germany spread word that all who wished to bring honor upon their name, reap rewards and virtues, be set among the books of history for all of time could join him and his quest to retrieve the stolen flag of Italy, Ancient Rome's golden son.
To his cry came hordes of men and women wishing to be a part of this grand quest. But Germany, wise Germany, wished only the best, the most able, the most cunning, to join him on his sleek vessel. "A Game" He declared, "a game to devise the best among you."
But great Germany, though long he thought, could not best decide what great contest these mighty warriors should face. The waiting warriors were uneasy beneath the scalding sun, their sandaled feet shifting in the dust with impatience. Great Germany was aroused from within his mind upon the shouts and laughter from among the now brawling men and women as dust flew and settled upon the shoulders of these heroes of men.
And so, the few that remained that had proved their worth, or could still stand, joined wise Germany on his quest. Among these few were Denmark, great warrior of the Nordics and son of Prussia, Cuba the mighty, and the fierce twins, siblings of the famed Oracle of China, North and South Korea.
So began great Germany's quest, as he set upon the broad blue sea in search of the end of the world with a crew of the greatest warriors of all behind his back. For five days and five nights they rowed, Italy's golden chariot gleaming in the sky above them as it dragged the sun across the sky. Strong were the cries of the men as they rowed, push and pull, a repetitive motion. For five days and five nights they did not tire. Yet high above, when the great Gilbird stood still on the waves, the angry gaze of Italy's twin glared down upon them from his silver chariot as he raced the moon through the dark sky.
For dark haired Romano agreed with Ancient Rome, and liked not his brother's choice in companion. So fierce Romano of the dark hair and dark eyes, virgin god of the hunt, silver son of the great king of gods descended the moon and set for the end of world. Swift of feet and no short on skill, the heavenly silver archer fled through his blessed fields of tomato and past the trees he held dear. Ran he did, past all of mortal knowing, the edge of his noble silver chiton weaving about his knees. And so dark haired Romano fled to the caves at the edges of the earth, to where the great winds of the world were held captive. Furious, dark haired Romano, silver son of Ancient Rome, approached the caverns with little fear and beheld the wind within.
"Great North Wind, great General Winter, my stupid young brother the golden son, Italy, has found an unworthy companion. This stupid potato bastard is now on a voyage in a ship gifted him by meddling England, god of seas, to reclaim Italy's sacred flag. So great North Wind, whose breath turns all to ice, makes gods shiver, and turns Ukraine's harvest to a wilting crop covered in frost, blow the treacherous bastard off course. Coat the sails in ice, freeze the vessel solid, and sink it in the sea!"
So spoke dark haired Romano as he raised his magnificent bow of gilded silver and released the lock that held the noble wind captive within the cage of stone. Steel eyed General Winter, wind of the North, spoke thus, the air icing with his very breath and the air chill and still:
"Son of Ancient Rome, greatest of the Hetalian pantheon, I could indeed coat the sails of even a vessel crafted by the god of the seas, I could indeed sink a vessel with a single cry that would bring sleet and snow, freezing those who steer and sinking the ship to the depths of England's domain. All this I could do, silver son of Mt. Roma, all this I could do if you had released me from my cage. Instead, the mighty silver bow of yours has led you astray, and the arrow graced upon you by your father has stricken the lock that holds my brother the West Wind."
And, to dark haired Romano's great dismay, spoke true the chilling North Wind, for as the cold General Winter had spoken the gentle West Wind had flown free of his cage and gracefully skimmed over the ocean, the air warm and quiet in his wake as he brought forth the fresh scent of oncoming spring. Then did Romano, dark haired Romano, despair for the gentle West Wind would harm nary even a fly. Dark haired Romano returned to Mt. Roma steeped with disappointment.
Onward flew the West Wind, soft gusts of air gently twining about as he breathed warmly across England's domain. Yet, though he had not been the one the dark haired Romano meant to release, the wayward West Wind felt indebted to the young god. So, as he came upon the swiftly moving vessel the gentle West Wind blew upon the large black sails as hard as his gentle breath could allow. Gently, gently, did the West Wind blow and so pushed the ship ever so gradually and gently away from its intended path. And so did dark haired Romano discover that his troubles had not been for naught as he was greeted by his exuberant father.
"Wonderful idea, my silver son! If only I had thought of it first. But I did not. And so I say, well done again! For the mortal was to undertake this journey alone, and so it suits me to have his craft of fine warriors be sent astray! For this I give you a gift. A tomato! I know they are your favorite."
Sharp tongued Romano with flashing dark eyes would have retorted in anger as his sacred fruit was placed upon his brow, but for the appearance of golden haired Germania, whose face was set in anger. So as not to be withheld between the two warring gods did dark haired Romano flee back to his dark forests and beloved tomato patches.
"Treachery!" Exclaimed golden haired Germania, eyes sharp as flint. "Ancient Rome, you set the boy upon this quest with no word of how the deed be accomplished, and here I find you meddling at the slightest action which displeases you."
"Treachery? Unheard of! The boy was to undertake this alone! Has he not read the lore of myth and legend? Of heroes near and far? Alone I say, do the bravest ones perform the quest imposed upon them!"
"Unclear! Mortal minds have no concept of the immortals and understanding is beyond them. Simple, simple, minds. You ask too much!"
"I ask not enough! For I would entrust to him my most beloved son, and at your behest! So cease your nattering! I have had enough!" Proclaimed the great king, thunder in his voice and lightning in his eyes as he dared his immortal husband to push further, for all of Mt. Roma was in disarray, the anger and force of quarreling gods violent enough to shake the very mountain.
And unbeknownst to the angry gods, the sacred looking pool of Mt. Roma quelled and shifted, the stilling waters converging upon a particular wayward vessel as it drifted upon the seas, the small peaks of a stranded island coming into view upon the distant horizon.
Notes:
Chiton: A robe-like dress worn by ancient greek men and women, although the outfit was considered more feminine than masculine dress. Females wore it floor length, while males wore it shorter. Artemis is usually depicted as wearing a knee length chiton.
West Wind: one of the 4 greek winds (the others being, North, South, and East). The West Wind was the wind that heralded spring, and was soft and warm. He's also uncast, and I'm open to suggestions :)
Part 4 * Part 6