6. Meaning of Life

Growing up a demigod was surprisingly normal. Ardex learned to control his powers like an athlete builds muscle or a painter learns colors through a thousand paintings. The major difference, of course, was that Ardex’ canvas was the entire universe.

He didn’t learn to keep a campfire burning, no, he visited the nearest planet and accepted the challenge to place ten volcanos before Oeros returned.

The first few times, Ardex still thought it was a test. So he held back. He pretended he was only able to make one weak volcano. He was afraid Oeros would never return and insisted on practicing as much as possible in the palace.

But with every challenge he grew more confident. His parents kept returning, kept giving him meaningful challenges, and never even uttered the word monster. At least not when he was near.

Year after year his powers grew. No, they were freed from their chains. Until they couldn’t practice anymore inside the palace, for any spell by Ardex was too large and destructive.

“Look!” Ardex yelled triumphantly. He was still a baby in the eyes of the universe, but nearly an adult in the eyes of a human. “One spell and I created a lava river across the entire moon! Believe me, next time I can do two rivers at once!”

Oeros smiled faintly. Ardex’ joyful energy instantly dissipated.

“What? What’s wrong? Am I not doing it right?”

“It’s great, son, you’re doing great. But power and size aren’t everything. In my eyes, you should practice keeping things small and contained.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Perhaps it’s no fun. But you need control.”

“Not fun? I’m a god! Why would I ever do something I don’t find fun?”

Oeros laughed loudly. Ardex wasn’t sure if he was being laughed at or laughed with.

The Chiefgod teleported them both back to the Heavenly Palace. He’d chosen a silent and beautiful spot where Gaia had been growing statues and decorations for years.

She said her Eden was strictly forbidden for Ardex until he had control—so why did Oeros suddenly take him here?

“Why,” Oeros said, “do you think we’re training?”

“Because … because a large fire is more fun than a small fire? Because sending deadly strikes of thunder is more fun than useless sparks?”

“I’m asking a bigger question. Why do we exist? What’s the purpose of gods?”

“Solve problems in the universe? That’s what you do, each day, sitting on your throne. Oh and try to find life!”

Oeros hummed and nodded, while studying a statue missing a limb. It showed him and Gaia losing themselves in a kiss. He seemed discontent with his image.

“And then?”

“Help that life?”

“Help? What is help?”

Ardex found a statue of himself. Gaia had given him sharp tusks. He glanced over his own appearance, but there were no tusks in real life.

“Well,” he said, “when life almost dies, we save them. Or if they’re hurt, we take the pain away. Nobody should feel pain.” He knew he’d give all his magic to be freed from the fires within him, always hurting him. No, he wouldn’t even dare imagine what pain meant to lesser non-magic creatures.

“But what if two different types of life appear on the same planet and they fight each other? We can’t help them both. Saving one means killing the other.”

Ardex fell silent. And he stayed silent, for each response he imagined sounded like it was foolish and naive.

They walked to the next garden, larger and prettier than the previous. Besides statues there were many arcs filled with a kind of purple window, which he did not recognize or understand.

“And what,” Oeros continued, “if the universe becomes so full that there’s no more space or food for all? Each planet occupied. Each ocean emptied. Did we help by saving all life thus far?”

Ardex studied his father questioningly. “I … don’t think so?”

“I don’t want you to say what I want to hear. I want you to think about this. One day this will all be yours. And the truth? Being god isn’t always fun. In fact, it usually isn’t.”

At first, these words felt like a punch to the gut, a whack on the head. After Ardex cleared up his confusion, he mostly felt frustration and helplessness. “So I’m supposed to do things I don’t like until the end of time? You knew that and still bore a child?”

Oeros studied one of the purple windows inside the arcs. Ardex faintly recognized them from the locking spell Gaia used on him long ago. They weren’t windows, but rather a thick mist.

“You’re thinking wrong,” Oeros said.

“And now you call me stupid!”

The flames ever inside him woke up and several volcanos on faraway planets rumbled. It was only strong magic and soothing words that had, so far, prevented Ardex from turning the whole Heavenly Palace into a volcano.

Oeros laughed again. “No, no. You said it yourself: the end of time. There are only two options. Either the universe exists forever, or it ends one day.”

Ardex tried to lean against the purple arc, but his appearance passed through without any resistance and he quickly retreated.

“So what’s the goal?” Oeros asked. “What’s the meaning of life? There is no goal. In the first case the universe never ends. And if something never ends, how can it have a goal? If you go on a journey, but the route is infinitely long, then you never arrive!”

It dawned on Ardex. The second punch to his gut. He finished Oeros’ explanation. “And if the universe does end, then everyone will die and all you ever do will be erased. So what’s the point of having a goal?”

Oeros grew into a giant and hugged his son enthusiastically. “That’s my boy. Gaia doubted, but I knew you had grown mature.”

Ardex didn’t know how to react. If this was the meaning of adulthood—realizing just how bleak and pointless it all is—then he wouldn’t have romanticized it so much. He already grew nostalgic for the years spend as a teenager, feasting, playing, and doing missions with mom and dad. The happy family he always wanted.

He had hoped Gaia’s hatred for him had subsided after all these years. On the other hand, she still said the next child felt “wrong” since his attack, and it took much longer before she was born.

“Thinking about goals or meaning is useless,” Oeros said with finality. “It’s about the journey, not the destination.”

Oeros looked in his son’s eyes, really looked into them, and connected soul to soul. They shared a collection of memories of the past few years, laughing, speaking, making mistakes.

“What will you enjoy more?” he asked. “The past few years of being together and doing challenges, or the single brief moment when you become more powerful than me?”

Ardex dared push more and more of his appearance through the purple mist, as he floated besides his Father.

“What you’re saying,” he tried, “is that I should stop pursuing my goal of being the strongest and the biggest? Stop thinking there is some goal to reach and that, once reached, playing god will be fun forever?”

“Yes. You should just be, you should just do. Every moment of every day.”

Strangely enough, this sounded like the most impossible challenge Ardex had ever been given.

“I want to send you on missions,” Oeros declared. “You’re ready for the real work. Do you remember that red planet where I discovered the first seed of life? Well, they are in some trouble.”

“Why don’t you go yourself?” It came out more harshly than Ardex intended. He was simply confused, as Oeros remained a hundred times more powerful than he. “Maybe I make a mistake and then—”

“I said nothing about solving issues. We’re just watching. Seeing what happens. Have you already forgotten all I taught you?”

“Yes, yes. Wait and see, let it happen, your favorite words!” Ardex sent positive energy to his Father to signal he meant it as a joke.

“Great. If this mission goes well, I have a bunch more for you to do!”

Ardex did not like the sound of that. All his life, he’d suspected Oeros to simply groom him to become their aid, doing their dirty work across the galaxy. Maybe that was false. But given his history with his parents, he did not give them the benefit of the doubt.

“See me as more than a slave to toy with,” Ardex said gruffly. “Then we’ll talk—”

Oeros sent a powerful spell in all directions and shot Ardex through the purple mist.

The last sound that Ardex heard was his mumbling father: “See me. Zyme. Hmm.”

Then his body was ripped apart, pulled in all directions, as he lost contact with his magic.