Stefanos heard a sound as of distant hammering upon an anvil, as he watched his father's shade in awe, its ghostly strength familiar. It was the sound he remembered from his workshop and forge, the very sound that had filled his ears to the day he had left for a life of war. There was also a smell of burning and heat, forge fire and molten bronze...so familiar, so full of memory.
"Father," Stefanos said, falling to his knees. "Forgive me..." There were so many questions that harangued his mind. Was he in a place of terror? What heroes did he meet? Did he see the Gods? Did he see Stefanos' mother again? - but forgiveness was what he craved as he swayed before the white visage of his father.
"Run like Achilles...fight like Herakles...and live on in bronze...bronze... It is here," it held i
