“The hot gates, the East and West Gates called “Thermopylae,” were built for a purpose, a purpose made loftier by the demigod roar ripping destinys skies, and made loftier still by the Spartan warriors laying down their lives in an act of timelessMore“The hot gates, the East and West Gates called “Thermopylae,” were built for a purpose, a purpose made loftier by the demigod roar ripping destinys skies, and made loftier still by the Spartan warriors laying down their lives in an act of timeless sacrifice.
The men conjoining their labors have heard the echo of this roar. During the day, the rocky mountain pass remains empty, lifeless. When night falls, the feet shuffle across the passageway, and the hands instantly resume their toil. The large gates are nearly complete. They were fashioned by hands miraculously unscarred by endless labor. The site at Thermopylae breathed with unseen perspiration.
The men worked tirelessly to complete the East and West Gates. The labors of these men come to an end...The Spartan king smiled grimly at a steady human river overflowing, observing its ominous glare as it darkly descended. The Immortals flowed ceaselessly before his eyes. Leonidas saw his lifes days lunging at him like a spear. The Spartans stood undaunted and untrammeled against the Persian multitudes, flanked by time and timeless necessity.
The moon glowed silver above the scene of imminent bloodshed. He shouted with a voice near-silent and near-seismic in its depth. Fists of fury came from all sides, and he brushed aside the looming shadow of quick, undignified defeat. Leonidas mind soared above a factory of fear, letting his memory resume the endless toil of telling his lifes tale. But he felt it. The end was drawing near. The Immortals rushed at him as his memory continued to wade the abysmal calm of battle.
The Persian hordes moved in a stream unrelenting, their king, Xerxes, casting a wide, fleeting gaze that, to the Spartan king, remained beyond shattering. For a moment, Leonidas eyes moved swiftly upon the ghostly stream, becoming interlocked with Xerxes darkly smiling eyes. In that moment, memory retreated into its own separate stream, flowing back into blind caverns now half-white with longing.
The Spartans felt arrows of fear fall in an inconsequential torrent, for their hearts remained fierce and unbroken in deaths steady approach. They fought off the fear, shielding themselves with their courage. Leonidas shouted as his scarred limbs collided with a small, whirling ocean of blades. The Spartans fall one by one, a cloud of dark fury moving upon the once-bloodless sea of quiet.” Throughout the years, different people visit the hot gates, but they are inexplicably swallowed by the shadows apart from one man.
This man witnesses another visitor who is somehow spared from the mysterious shadows: a boy named “Herakles.” Herakles looks into the reflections on the thermal springs and glimpses his future. The man who observes Herakles lives on for hundreds of years, wondering why his life was spared and how he became immortal. Several hundred years after seeing Herakles, the man sees a young Leonidas visit the hot springs. Desiring to die, the man endeavors to find out how Herakles plays a role in immortalizing the hot gates, and how the Spartan king fulfills the meaning of the hot gates.
The man believes that learning the secret of Thermopylaes immortality will allow him to finally die. He becomes part of the hot gates immortality, which allow him to briefly experience the events leading to Leonidass demise, events that are connected to Herakles role as guardian of the hot gates.