Chapter 14: The Mortal Question
It started with a mortal priest asking a dangerous question.
His name was Prometheus, and he lived in a time when humans had begun to develop agriculture and basic civilization. He was thoughtful and curious, and he had spent years observing the gods and the world they had created.
One day, standing in a temple dedicated to the gods, he asked aloud: "Why do the gods have immortality and we have only brief lives? Why is there such inequality between creator and created?"
It was a simple question, but it echoed through the divine realm.
The gods felt it immediately - this mortal's questioning of the fundamental inequality between divine and mortal existence.
Gaia brought the question to the council.
"A mortal is questioning why we're immortal and they're not," Gaia said. "It seems like a straightforward theological question, but it's also asking something deeper. Why should there be such a vast difference in our lifespans, our power, our fundamental nature?"
"We're gods," Helios said. "They're mortals. That's the fundamental difference."
"But is it?" Gaia asked. "We were created. So were they. We have consciousness. So do they. The main difference is that we were created from divine principles and they were created from matter."
"And that makes all the difference," Poseidon said. "Divine consciousness is different from mortal consciousness. More expansive, more powerful, more eternal."
"Is it?" Tartarus asked. "Or are we just more spread out? A mortal lives intensely for seventy years. We live extensively for billions. Which is actually more real? Which is actually more valuable?"
Ares brought the question into sharp focus.
"If mortals are conscious, if they have reason and will and choice, then don't they deserve a say in how creation is governed?" Ares asked. "We created a council of gods to share power among ourselves. Why don't mortals get representation?"
"They're not ready for that level of responsibility," Helios said.
"How do you know?" Ares challenged. "We weren't ready either when we started. We had to learn."
"Mortals live too briefly," Selene said. "They wouldn't have time to develop the experience needed to make wise decisions about creation."
"But we did it anyway," Ares pointed out. "Without experience, without preparation. We just started making decisions and learned as we went. Why shouldn't mortals have the same chance?"
In the chaos, Mike observed this debate with great interest.
The gods were confronting something he had wondered about himself: what rights did the created have? What obligations did creators have to the beings they created? Was immortality a blessing or a burden? Did it confer superiority or just difference?
These were profound philosophical questions, and Mike understood that the answers the gods came to would define the relationship between divine and mortal for ages to come.
Gaia decided to speak directly with Prometheus.
She appeared to the mortal priest in his temple, manifesting in a form he could see and understand. Prometheus fell to his knees, overwhelmed by the presence of a god.
"Rise," Gaia said gently. "Your question was not disrespectful. It was honest."
"I apologize, Goddess," Prometheus said, standing nervously. "I didn't mean to question divine authority."
"But you did," Gaia said. "And I want to know why. What made you ask this question?"
Prometheus took a breath. "I watch mortals suffer, Goddess. I watch them struggle through brief lives, creating meaning in the face of inevitable death. And I watch you gods live forever, powerful and secure. It seems... unequal."
"It is unequal," Gaia said. "But is inequality necessarily unjust?"
"I'm not sure," Prometheus said. "But if mortals are conscious, if we think and feel and create meaning, shouldn't that count for something? Shouldn't our existence matter as much as yours, even if it's shorter?"
"That's a good question," Gaia said. She was quiet for a long moment. "I'm going to bring this to the council. Your question deserves serious consideration."
The council debated the issue for what felt like forever.
"We can't make mortals immortal," Aeolus said. "That would change the fundamental balance of creation."
"Why?" Gaia asked. "Who decided that mortals had to be temporary?"
"The Law," Tartarus said. "Or rather, the fundamental principle that consciousness requires limitation. Infinite power would destroy consciousness itself. Infinite time would make choice meaningless."
"But mortals don't need infinite time," Nike said. She was young enough to remember being created, recent enough to question established assumptions. "They just need more than they have. They just need the possibility of continuity, of seeing their creations persist beyond their deaths."
"That's not immortality," Helios said. "That's just wanting longer lives."
"Yes," Nike said. "But why shouldn't they have that? Why is this boundary sacred?"
Poseidon raised a different concern.
"If we give mortals longer lives, they might challenge us," Poseidon said. "With more time, they could develop more power, more knowledge. They could become threats to the divine order."
"So you want to keep them weak deliberately?" Ares asked bitterly. "To limit their potential because you're afraid of them?"
"I want to maintain balance," Poseidon said. "But yes, there's an element of fear in it. We don't know what mortals would become if we gave them more power and time."
"Then why should we be afraid to find out?" Ares challenged. "We fear what we don't understand. Maybe instead of limiting mortals to prevent them from becoming threats, we should include them, educate them, help them develop their potential."
In the end, the council came to a compromise.
They couldn't make all mortals immortal - the fundamental structure of creation didn't support that. But they could offer a path to extended life for those mortals who proved themselves worthy through achievement and excellence.
"We'll create a process," Gaia explained to Prometheus when she appeared to him again. "Mortals who accomplish great things - who create art or music or literature that moves the divine realm, who develop wisdom that helps others understand truth, who show exceptional virtue - these mortals can be elevated to semi-divine status. They'll live longer, gain certain powers, become part of the divine community rather than just subjects of it."
"Will mortals accept this?" Prometheus asked. "Many will strive for it and never achieve it. Won't that create resentment?"
"Perhaps," Gaia said. "But it will also create hope. And hope is what drives mortals forward. Hope that they can become more than they are."
The concept of heroes was born from this decision.
Mortals who achieved greatness would be recognized by the gods. Some would be invited to participate in divine affairs. Some would be given semi-divine status. Some would even be granted extended lifespans or particular gifts.
It wasn't perfect equality, but it was a recognition that mortal consciousness and mortal achievement had value. It was a bridge between the divine and the mortal worlds.
Prometheus became the first mortal to be elevated to semi-divine status.
The gods recognized that he had asked an important question, that his honesty and courage deserved acknowledgment. He was given extended life and the power to advocate for mortal interests in the divine realm.
"This is unusual," some gods complained. "A mortal sitting in council with us."
"But not unprecedented," Gaia said. "We're all conscious beings trying to understand how to live together fairly. Prometheus brings a mortal perspective that we need to hear."
In the chaos, Mike observed this development and felt something significant had shifted.
The gods had taken their first real step toward genuine equality. It wasn't perfect - there was still hierarchy, still power difference, still immortal gods and mortal beings. But there was now recognition that consciousness and achievement mattered, regardless of where they came from.
"This is what growth looks like," Mike said to himself. "When beings with power begin to recognize the validity of those without it. When hierarchies become permeable rather than absolute."
That evening, Prometheus stood with Gaia and looked out at the mortal world.
"Thank you," Prometheus said. "For taking my question seriously."
"Thank you for asking it," Gaia replied. "The gods needed to be reminded that we're not the only consciousness that matters. That mortals aren't just subjects of creation - they're participants in it."
"Will things change now?" Prometheus asked.
"I think so," Gaia said. "Slowly. The gods are learning to share power, to recognize value in different kinds of consciousness, to build systems that aren't just about divine will but about something more collaborative."
"That sounds hopeful," Prometheus said.
"It is," Gaia agreed. "Though whether hope is always warranted remains to be seen. But I'll take hope over certainty. Hope allows for growth."
And in the council chambers, the other gods debated what this meant for the future, how this precedent would change their relationship with the mortals they had created, what other questions would emerge now that they had opened this door to mortal participation.
The universe had just become more complicated. But it had also become more just.