Chains and Memories

Prometheus awoke, groggy from the after effects of the impact. He tried to stretch, but his were outstretched and chains run over them and into the mountain, imprisoning him. He looked around. He could see clouds and mountain tops, and in the far distance the ocean. He could only be on top of a mountain somewhere far from civilisation. He could sense no one, mortal or otherwise. Zeus had kept his word.

He had lost the will to fight during the storm, and so he lay there with a heavy heart when suddenly a bolt of pain shot through him, and he was forced to close his eyes. He felt a strange sensation of falling, and he felt a sudden change of atmosphere when the pain just as suddenly subsided. He opened his eyes.

He gazed around at a dank and dirty room, covered in mattresses, old clothes, and stolen toys. He stood without a body at the foot of a bed, children gathered in front of him. Recognition hit him. No! He tried to scream, yet nothing was heard. A group of children were gathered around a solitary figure on a bed.

Atlea.

She was clearly in pain, gasping for air, clenching her teeth and reduced to periodic fits of coughs and retching. She still took every advantage of consciousness, whispering words of encouragement to the children that surrounded her. Even until the end, Prometheus thought, she had shouldered that burden. It swelled his heart with pride to see. As he watched, Atlea suddenly arched her back and screamed a haunting scream. It did not echo through the room, but it pierced them all. He felt his throat clogging up with emotions, tears forming in his eyes. Atlea, with her last breath, stared at the heavens and whispered.
"I tried."

Pain jolted him back to reality, yet he hardly felt it. Prometheus screamed till his voice was hoarse, fighting his chains, fighting his prison. For all his resistance and fury, it was futile. Tears fell freely. He offered no resistance. He gasped for air, sobbing hard.

Alas this reprieve was short-lived, when another bolt of pain lanced through his body and he was forced to close his eyes once more. He felt the room, he could hear it all. He willed his eyes to remain closed, so he would not have to suffer it all again. It was futile. He willed himself to run, to move. It was futile. And so he stood and watched it all unfold over and over again, the same emotions every single time, for the rest of eternity.

"I tried" she had whispered, with her dying breath. Time and time again.

"I tried"

I tried.