After that day, Pagides taught the sisters to delve deeper into the true nature of the Sacred Flame. The fire in the Mortal Realm was merely fire magic—not the real thing.
From pitch black to pure white and weightless, there were roughly seven layers. If they had stayed in the Mortal Realm (Greece), reaching a pure white Sacred Flame Stone would have taken about five thousand years.
Here in the Titan Realm, however, the sisters progressed swiftly—especially the elder sister, Pheropyr, who had already reached the third layer. Meanwhile, Pherodoro, the younger sister, remained stuck on the second.
Pagides was impressed that they had achieved such levels in just two months.
Under his guidance, they also learned how the Sacred Flame operated, sustained by three key components:
1. Fuel – The material consumed to maintain the flame's energy. Common sources included wood, oil, and other combustibles, much like in Greece. Wood was the best, as it provided stable, long-lasting energy during Sacred Flame rituals or spells. Using iron, however, would cause it to soften.
2. The Brazier's Quality – The vessel atop the staff where the flame burned. The best were crafted by Giants, who forged unique materials that prevented heat from dissipating—something impossible with the industrial capabilities of Mortal Realm Greece. This was also where the Sacred Flame Stone was placed.
3. **The Sacred Flame Stone** – Its strength determined the flame's power and control, though the wielder's ability also played a role. Even with a powerful flame, one couldn't unleash its full potential without resonance.
In the Titan Realm, there were five types of Sacred Flames:
- Hestia's Flame
- Giant's Flame(which ranged from 2nd to 5th tier—all considered Sacred Flames)
- Hades' Flame
- Poseidon's Flame
- Zeus' Flame
The other flames (aside from the Giant's Flame) required blessings from their respective gods to wield their unique properties.
Another method was inheritance—passing trials and adhering to strict doctrines to earn a blessing from a Sacred Flame Temple. This was grueling and difficult.
Yes, there was a Zeus Flame Temple in the Titan Realm, though many races were unwelcome there—naturally.
Fortunately, the sisters didn't need to go. It would have been troublesome. Their likely destinations were the temples of Poseidon, Hestia, and the Giants. If things went well, they might even visit Hades' Temple—though Pagides wouldn't accompany them there.
He had been blacklisted by Hades' Temple. Not a proud moment. Those priests were strict, with no tolerance for jokes.
Pagides then explained their responsibilities, which differed greatly from those in the Mortal Realm.
Each flamekeeper had different duties—most commonly, maintaining the Sacred Flame Stations and taking shifts guarding them.
However, there were special missions, which would also serve as their trial—the Flame Ignition Ritual.
Lighting a flame in the wild was difficult. Doing so in the Titan Realm? **Even harder.
This ritual was also the most dangerous, as it attracted monsters. Still, they would have escorts for protection.
After ignition, they had to keep the flame from extinguishing—the true test. If it died out, new monsters would emerge.
Sustaining the flame also brought strange, unsettling thoughts, gnawing at their minds.
This was something Pagides couldn't help with. They would have to face it alone—the most frustrating part.
After six months of training, the sisters had improved at an astonishing rate, making him proud.
They had reached third and fourth-tier Sacred Flame Stones, meaning it was time to set out. However, Pagides worried about the cultural differences.
The Titan Realm's many customs left them dizzy, so he would have to guide them carefully.
On this day, they received their identification cards—their official status as Hestia's Flamekeepers. This title would earn them respect and avoid suspicion, as it was a position of great importance.
The IDs were made of iron, thin as parchment and small as a palm. They also functioned as passes for checkpoints, personally authorized by Hestia herself.
Pagides then revealed their next destination: Hestia's Giant City, where Hestia awaited them.
The sisters couldn't contain their excitement.
---
Before setting off, Pithos Automaton and the sisters prepared meticulously, ensuring they had everything they needed. Young Pherodaro, eager yet overzealous, piled far more into the automaton's storage than necessary—tables, blank scrolls, and other oddments. Though the iron-armed automaton shook its mechanical limb in protest, it relented and accepted the hoard.
Pheropyr, ever observant, watched with growing suspicion. How could Pithos Automaton possibly hold the contents of two entire rooms? Its compact frame defied logic. When the others weren't looking, she quietly approached Pagides with her question.
"What *is* Pithos Automaton, really?" she asked.
Pagides, stroking his beard, replied, "A joint creation of Prometheus and the Giants—infused with my own sacred firestone. That's why it holds far more than its form suggests." His tone turned serious. "Pithos magic can be learned, but the conditions are… demanding. Ideally, you'd need a Titan's craftsmanship or the work of an elite Giant. Otherwise, it's near impossible."
Pheropyr nodded. "Understood, Master."
"Don't worry," he added with a chuckle. "You *will* learn it—just not from me. I'm no expert. Eirene will teach you. She's as skilled in Pithos magic as Hestia herself." He paused. "And, well… let's just say she's the one I'm filling in for."
With that mystery settled, the sisters donned white cloaks and fastened Hestia's insignias to their belts before boarding the carriage. This time, the vehicle was larger, drawn not by horses but by Pithos Automaton itself, its metallic limbs moving with surprising grace. Pagides joined them inside, assuring them the road ahead was safe.
To pass the time, Pagides handed them a scroll penned by a renowned Hemicynes—a collection of tales so witty that even Giants adored them. The sisters laughed at the absurd fables, their voices blending with the rhythmic clatter of wheels.
---
By midday, the carriage halted near a bustling clearing. Centaurs and humans mingled, bartering spices and medicinal herbs under the open sky.
"Trading season," Pagides remarked. "Centaurs remain unmatched healers."
A voice boomed from behind them. "Pagides! Is that you?"
A centaur approached—his coat a rich chestnut, his face adorned with a well-groomed beard and faint freckles. A jeweled circlet rested atop his brow, marking his status.
Pagides grinned. "Hipponax! It's been too long."He bowed; the sisters followed suit.
"Half a year vanished, old friend,"Hipponax huffed, arms crossed. "Do you know how chaotic it's been without you?"
"the cyprian surely helped?"
"Ha!"The centaur's tail flicked in irritation. "They're as subtle as a rockslide. Last time, they shattered my Giant Automaton City Titan Realm Cup—the archery tournament prize!"
Pagides winced. "That relic? Ouch."
"Exactly! So—" Hipponax's anger melted into a pleading grin. —"Would you fix it? Only you can."
"Consider it done." Pagides then gestured to the sisters. "Meet Pheropyr and Pherodaro, my students."
Hipponax bowed deeply. **"An honor. Your teacher's reputation precedes him—even Harpies tread carefully in his presence."He chuckled. "Though he's mad as a storm at times, learning from him is like studying under Prometheus himself."
"Flattery won't earn you extra repairs," Pagides retorted, though his eyes sparkled.
With a laugh, Hipponax tugged Pagides forward. "Come! My clan awaits."
---
The Green Haven
The centaur camp sprawled across emerald grasslands, banners fluttering above each tent, inscribed with names and ranks. A crystalline river snaked through the valley, but the sisters' eyes lingered on the distant mountains—titanic, humbling.
While Pagides and Hipponax vanished into a workshop, the centaur's wife ushered the sisters to a feast. Platters overflowed with roasted roots, honeyed fruits, and unfamiliar herbs. The hostess demonstrated a centaur tradition: steeping fragrant leaves with hot water, then layering in fruit slices.
Pheropyr sipped the brew. No overpowering taste—just a floral whisper on her tongue. "This is… incredible."
The centaur woman beamed, blending more combinations for them to try. By the time Pagides returned—cup restored, Hipponax clapping him on the back—the sisters had sampled a dozen infusions.
"You've charmed her," Pagides noted as the hostess pressed bundles of herbs into their packs. "Centaur hospitality is hard to refuse."
Pithos Automaton, now laden with supplies, stood ready. With farewells exchanged, the group rolled onward, the sisters still tasting the ghost of herbs on their lips.