"That was just a fake name."
"Not hope the name. Hope, the emotion you left trapped in the box," he corrected.
"I'm not actually sure," I replied honestly. "I know for sure it wasn't in there while I was." I looked over at Alex, wondering if he had a different experience in there.
A puzzled look crossed his face. "There wasn't anything in there with me."
"What about before?" I asked, swallowing nervously.
"Before?"
"As in, when I was locked in there before. You must have come to look at me, ridicule me, the rest of it." I wasn't even accusing him of anything, and I was pretty sure he knew that from the expression on his face. But it was also likely true.
"I didn't notice anyone in there but you," he replied after a moment.
The words spun around in my head as I tried to make sense of them. There were many versions of my legend but almost all of them had the existence of hope in common. Almost like it was the main part of it. On the flipside, there hadn't been anything in there with me. No miseries. No emotions. Just me. And after the first year, even I hadn't been great company.
But wait...
No.
If hope was in the box and I was in the box, did that mean we were the same thing? No. It couldn't be. Right?
"Is there...?" Zavier started.
"No," I responded quickly. "No chance of that at all."
It took everything I had to ignore Alex's thoughtful look. He clearly thought there might be something to explore in the suggestion, but I refused to believe it. If that was the case, then the only reason I was even still semi-sane was me. And that was enough to snatch away even that small slither of sanity.
"It might be worth considering," Ashton said.
"No," I repeated.
"Fine. How about taking us back to the beginning?" Zavier asked.
"What do you mean?" Their ideas were enough to make my head spin.
"I think he means your creation," Alex said softly.
"I do," Zavier confirmed. "There's so many different legends, it's hard to tell which is which. Maybe there's a clue in how it really happened?"
I frowned, unsure how I felt about his suggestion. My creation was so long ago that I didn't really think about it much. Saying that, I could remember it perfectly.
I took a deep breath and, for the first time in my life, I told someone where I came from...
***
The birth of mankind, Ancient Greece
My skin was slippery as they glided their hands over it, sculpting it into shape and creating what I looked like. I didn't think I was supposed to be aware of what was going on quite yet, but I definitely was, I just couldn't respond. Hopefully they'd explain what they were doing, and who I was, once they were done.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" a male voice asked.
How did I even know it was male? Or what a male was? There must be something to do with this process that made me just know these things.
"Of course it is, Hephasitos," a female voice answered. A voice like the one I'd have when I was finally made.
Hephasitos, god of fire, smiths and craftsmen.Interesting choice to be creating me.
