Missing ingredient

"What are you doing?" Water asked, splashing onto the land where Prometheus was. She was bored of watching gods and titans carve up the world, and hoped that the gentlest titan she knew would have something for her.

The titan spared her barely a glance, utterly engrossed in his work. His dark eyes had that look again, the one that meant he had retreated thoroughly into that bewitchingly busy head of us. Water drooped a little, settling herself down on her elbows to watch. His long, bronzed fingers were carefully putting dirt together. And apparently, this wasn't his first attempt, since a small army of dirt figures were littered around him, crumbling.

Water frowned, looking from the disgusting mounds to Prometheus. "You're scaring me, can titans go mad?" Briefly, she wondered how much more fun he would be if he was crazy. Prometheus ignored her, adding some bizarre parts to the mound, and if she squinted, Water admitted it looked a bit like an arm.

"It's not right!" Prometheus huffed suddenly, viciously crushing the mound in his hand. Dirt flew everywhere, and Water shrieked, ducking from it. She resurfaced gingerly, utterly stunned. Prometheus had never behaved like this before.

"What? What?" She snapped, unsure of whether to laugh or hide. "They look the same, all mound-y and weird. I hate to break it to you, but none of them looks right!"

"No!" Prometheus fumbled for the words. "They need to be...it's the dirt! It's just not malleable enough, I can mould them right because it keeps drying and breaking and crumbling-ah!" Prometheus crushed the disintegrating forms around him. "It's not-ugh!" He took a deep inhale, almost rubbing his face with his dirt-caked hands.

Water gaped at him, at a loss. She watched his frustration, unable to help. So she did what she usually did, whenever Prometheus studied his surroundings, failed to notice anything new about her looks, or if he ever opened his mouth during one of her anecdotes. She splashed him with water.

Prometheus growled angrily, the titan in him showing. "What? Why can't I ever just be allowed to work? Between you and Kronos I haven't got a second to-oh!"

Water smiled mischievously. Ah-ha! That had gotten him to pay attention. Who cared about some disgusting-

"You did it!" Prometheus cried out, plunging his hands into the dirt. It wasn't quite dirt anymore though, it looked and moved differently.

"Uhh," Water had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. All she knew was that the sun was getting to her friend. She watched as Prometheus lovingly put the dirt together, rolling torsos and heads.

She finally took a chance, boredom eating away at her. "So, what are you doing?" She resisted the urge to add: if you haven't lost your mind!

"It's a project of mine, I'm trying to make smaller titans out of clay," Prometheus explained. "I'm studying how to animate something, and I really want to create intelligent, beautiful, graceful, and creative beings,"

Beautiful? They were literally made of dirt! "That's nice," Water said, resting her chin on her upturned hand. "So, why? What's wrong with the big titans with powers? Who are, mind you, beautiful, graceful-?"

"Titans aren't that beautiful or anything like that." Prometheus face darkened. "I just don't want to be alone with Kronos, who ate his children. Or with the stupidly vain Helios, or the useless jerk Atlas." He practically spat out Atlas' name, Water noted. Not an unprecedented reaction to the biggest bully on Gaia. "I want to make creatures who are forced to work together, who can challenge anything with their minds!"

Water yawned slightly, uninterested. These little ones could challenge whatever they wanted, as long as they steered clear of her. "Okay, can you throw in some personality in there too? If you're making millions of mini-yous, this planet's about to get even more obnoxiously boring!"

"Personality?" Prometheus asked, carving out delicately muscled limbs. "Oh, I didn't think of that,"

"Yeah, one has to have a personality before they can go around carting it off to others, don't you think? It's a good thing Themis didn't have kids because I don't think a stick-up-your-ass is a good thing to pass down to kids." Water remarked, referring to the notoriously uptight Titaness of justice. She felt her mind wandering, and turned back to the little beings. "Hey, just wait a minute here!"

"What?" Prometheus asked, anxiously looking over his pristine clay figures.

"You haven't made any that look like me!" Water pointed accusingly at the figures. "Male, male, male, male? What on earth are they supposed to do to breed? Come to you for more children? What on earth are they meant to do for common sense? Or for someone with their head screwed on straight?" Water glared at him. "Tell me you were going to add some figures worth looking at?"

Prometheus stared at her for a moment before breaking into incredulous laughter.

Water stared at him, unnerved. His moods had shifted more than her's today, and that was saying something.

"I completely forgot!" Prometheus set to work to add a few more figures, making them resemble Water more than him. Then he made some that were mixes of both, or variations. The clay never came out looking exactly the same.

"There we go," Water huffed, crossing her arms. She still didn't like the idea of these immobile, mindless, thoughtless beings. Nobody should be created to be a mere reflection of greatness. Nobody should live, without living for themselves, with spark and strength.

She waited until Prometheus was finished. He stared expectantly at the figures as they dried, looking as proud as Atlas did when his gorgeous daughters were born.

Water took her moment. Gently, she cast a small spell on some drops and flicked them at the figures. The drops seamlessly permeated the figures and Prometheus turned to her questioningly.

"Let them be as ever-changing as the one that gave them life, as unchained as the vast ocean, and as powerful as a raging wave. While being tamer than a puddle that hasn't caught the wind. Let them all contain life and multitudes, in a single drop." Water explained, her eyes fixed on the figures. And maybe her eyes deceived her, but the female figure closest to her breathed. Her little terracotta chest came alive, not dark clay, but fluid skin.

Prometheus watched his creations come alive, eyes shining with wonder. They stretched and moved, their cheeks reddening with blush, eyes blinking into focus. He could say nothing as they helped each other, chattering slightly, and already thinking, moving, being.

Water and Prometheus watched as they set off, and Prometheus stared longingly after them. "They're..perfect,"

Water smiled by accident, unable to contain her delight. It was surreal, to think she had made something. Even if that something was hideous and pitiful, they would contain her nature.

"Do they look small? Oh, they must be so hungry," Prometheus whispered lovingly, even as the humans shrank in terror and ran from him.

"Methie, leave them alone, you hear? Let them do as they want. You aren't alone anymore, so let them become the perfect ideal you wanted them to be," Water warned, eager to get her friend back.

"They look so cold," Prometheus insisted. "I'm gonna do just one last thing for them, okay?"

"Prometheus, you made them, stop doing them more favours!" Water dramatically sighed, falling over with a splash.

"No, to have them truly reach their potential, to not be afraid. I need to get the fire," Prometheus had his own fire dancing in his eyes.

Water resisted the urge to scream. The whole afternoon, wasted, and now who knew how long this fire expedition would take. But she could see from the look in Pormethous' eyes, that nothing could stop him from helping his little monsters.

"Oh, whatever, just don't take too long, okay?" Water said, resignedly. She looked after the things too, finding it a little cute how they climbed and built things.

"Promise me something," The titan said suddenly, terribly serious.

"What now?" Water asked, looking right into his deep eyes.

"If anything, anything ever happens to me. Promise you'll help them succeed."

"What?" Water laughed, her disbelief obvious. "I gave them life, I think I've-"

"Please," Prometheus persisted. "I want you to help them. Let them conquer even the sea, let them explore, and get stronger."

"You're serious about this?" Water asked, staring at him.

"Yes. War is rumbling on the horizon, new gods have arrived. I fear for them. I know they can change the world. Please, Water, help them. Feed their crops, build their cities." Prometheus's eyes never left the stormy horizon, his face dark.

Water contemplated it. "Best I can do is allow them conquest if they impress me, Methie. Your little titans will have to impress me." But Water smiled, knowing Prometheus had gotten the message. "But don't you go get in trouble or anything, not over them, understand?" She asked, and then worried as Prometheus didn't reply.

"They're not little titans," Pormtheous whispered.

Water rolled her eyes, utterly exhausted with him. He was going to get himself killed! "What are they then?"

"Humans," Prometheus stated, and the skies rumbled with thunder, lightning skating across them. "My greatest creation,"

Water scoffed at this show of dramatics. "I get it, Prometheus, I get it already. I hope your special little humans live up to the crazy reputation you've built for them. I hope they're better than the titans." I hope they're like you, Water thought privately.

Prometheus smiled and set off, and Water growled annoyedly at the silly promise he had extracted from her. Long live the age of the humans, she supposed, if she was backing them, she couldn't risk looking weak and let them lose.

You better impress me, she warned the humans, with every swell of waves, or splash of the water. Her challenge would stand for all time, and she had never been impressed before.