A long time ago in Ancient Greece a young demi-God with big muscles and an equally big head, desperately wanted to become a hero. His name was Heracles and he couldn’t fulfill his dream until he proved himself worthy. To do that, he had to complete tasks set for him by his cousin, King Eurystheus, who hated him.
“I’ve completed eleven tasks for that whiny weasel,” he said to the Goddess Athena. “And you still haven’t made me a hero. How much longer?”
“Be patient,” Athena advised him. “You’re close.”
With a sigh and a huff, Heracles headed to the palace to find out what pointless, impossible task his cousin had in store for him this time.
King Eurystheus was standing by his golden throne, a gleam in his beady eyes. “You will go to the Underworld and bring me back Cerberus.”
He had to be joking. “You want me to fetch the Hound of Hades?”
King Eurystheus chuckled. “What’s the matter Heracles? You scared of a little puppy?”
Calling Cerberus a puppy was like calling a ten-foot, fire-breathing dragon a lizard. The hound of Hades was a three-headed, giant, ferocious beast that guarded the Underworld.
“Or perhaps you’re scared?” King Eurystheus said with a smile. “Not willing to brave the Underworld?”
The Underworld was where the dead went when they died. It was filled with ghosts and monsters and, more importantly, it was forbidden for the living to enter. But Heracles was not about to stand by and let King Eurystheus get the better of him. “I accept the task,” he said.
Eurystheus could barely contain his glee. Heracles would never survive the Underworld, the Hound of Hades would end him and, if it didn’t, Hades (the God of the Underworld) would never let him leave.
“Good luck!” Eurystheus called as Heracles left. “Don’t hurry back.”
Travelling to the Underworld was not a trip to be taken lightly, so Heracles went to visit a priest and they made an offering of fruit, gold and frankincense to the Gods.
“Please help me in the Underworld,” Heracles prayed, then began his descent into the belly of the world. It got dark very quickly. All he could hear were the distant murmurs and cries of the dead and… running water? Lighting a torch, Heracles followed the flow of water down and down and down even further until he couldn’t just hear the dead, he could see them too. Ghostly people wandered aimlessly from here to there, dressed as they were in life, they gathered around him, reaching for his light.
“Get off!” Heracles flicked them away and plowed on.
Soon, he came to a figure, sitting on a chair, scratching his head. When he got close, Heracles gasped. “Hephaestus’ fire! It’s Theseus.”
It was great to see a familiar face. But, even though they had been friends for years, Theseus stared at Heracles blankly.
“Do I know you?” Theseus asked.
Heracles had heard of a chair that made anyone who sat in it forget who they were. “Here!” Heracles held out his hand. “Let me help you up, stranger.”
The moment Theseus rose from the chair, he smiled. “Heracles!” What are you doing here?”
Heracles explained his task. When he was done, Theseus shook his head, “Hades won’t like you taking his pet.”
Exactly what Heracles had been thinking. He decided to visit Hades in his palace at the centre of the Underworld.
Hades was impressed that Heracles had come to him first. “You think you can take my hound?” he asked with amusement. “I’d like to see you try.”
“May I?” Heracles asked.
“Very well,” Hades nodded, “On three conditions. One, you subdue him without causing him any harm. Two, you bring him back when you’re done and three you tell me who sent you.”
“Deal!” Heracles said.
Now, all Heracles had to do was subdue the infernal beast, without causing it any harm. That should be easy.
Hades took Heracles to Cerberus. He’s not so bad, Heracles thought when the three-headed dog bounded up to Hades, wagging his spiked dragon’s tail and licked his master with two of his faces. Then the third face turned on Heracles and growled. Soon, the other two faces were growling too, then snarling and before Heracles knew what was happening, Cerberus had leapt on him. Three sets of heads baring three sets of fangs snapped at Heracles, who had to use every ounce of his strength to stop those jaws taking a chunk out of him. Cerberus was strong but Heracles was stronger, he wrestled the Hound of Hades down to the floor. The dog wriggled and thrashed and lashed out at him, but Heracles put all his weight on top of him and sat on him, until he finally calmed down.
“Very impressive,” Hades said, “Make sure you have him back by teatime.”
Having shown the dog who was boss, Cerberus became quite sweet. He licked Heracles hand and jogged along beside him as he left the Underworld. It was only when they got to King Eurystheus’ palace that he began to growl again.
King Eurystheus took one look at Heracles, entering his palace with the Hound of Hades at his heels and jumped into a nearby clay pot.
“As requested,” Heracles said, bowing before the King.
“Take it back!” King Eurystheus cried from inside his pot, “Don’t let it get me.”
Before Heracles could leave there was another visitor to the palace: Hades. “Are you the mortal who dared to send this hero into my realm?” His voice boomed so loud it shattered the pot, leaving King Eurystheus exposed. The King took one look at the God of the Underworld and burst into tears.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think he would dare to go.”
“You were wrong,” Hades boomed.
King Eurystheus hung his head. “I was only trying to think of heroic tasks.”
Hades looked the King up and down then turned to Heracles. “Enough is enough, you have proven yourself a true hero.”
Heracles could hardly believe his ears. Had a God finally decreed that he was a hero? “Brother!” Hades called and in an instant Zeus, Heracles’ father and the King of the Gods appeared.
Heracles and Eurystheus fell to their knees.
Zeus chuckled. “Son, you’ve done well, but it isn’t up to me to name you a hero. That is for the Goddesses to decide.”
Heracles’ hope died. He knew Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, was behind him, but his step mother, Hera, Queen of the Gods, hated him. She had said he would never be a hero.
Hera and Athena appeared in the throne room. King Eurystheus bowed so low he was practically lying on the floor.
“Get up, Heracles,” Queen Hera said. She was smiling. Heracles wasn’t used to seeing her smile, he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. “You have proven yourself, beyond a doubt, to be a true hero,” she said. “I object no longer.”
So Heracles was made a hero of Greece, arguably the greatest hero of Greece. His father, Zeus, painted an image of him in the stars, so everyone could look up and be reminded of his heroic deeds. The hero Heracles had many more adventures, but those are stories for another time...
The End
“I’ve completed eleven tasks for that whiny weasel,” he said to the Goddess Athena. “And you still haven’t made me a hero. How much longer?”
“Be patient,” Athena advised him. “You’re close.”
With a sigh and a huff, Heracles headed to the palace to find out what pointless, impossible task his cousin had in store for him this time.
King Eurystheus was standing by his golden throne, a gleam in his beady eyes. “You will go to the Underworld and bring me back Cerberus.”
He had to be joking. “You want me to fetch the Hound of Hades?”
King Eurystheus chuckled. “What’s the matter Heracles? You scared of a little puppy?”
Calling Cerberus a puppy was like calling a ten-foot, fire-breathing dragon a lizard. The hound of Hades was a three-headed, giant, ferocious beast that guarded the Underworld.
“Or perhaps you’re scared?” King Eurystheus said with a smile. “Not willing to brave the Underworld?”
The Underworld was where the dead went when they died. It was filled with ghosts and monsters and, more importantly, it was forbidden for the living to enter. But Heracles was not about to stand by and let King Eurystheus get the better of him. “I accept the task,” he said.
Eurystheus could barely contain his glee. Heracles would never survive the Underworld, the Hound of Hades would end him and, if it didn’t, Hades (the God of the Underworld) would never let him leave.
“Good luck!” Eurystheus called as Heracles left. “Don’t hurry back.”
Travelling to the Underworld was not a trip to be taken lightly, so Heracles went to visit a priest and they made an offering of fruit, gold and frankincense to the Gods.
“Please help me in the Underworld,” Heracles prayed, then began his descent into the belly of the world. It got dark very quickly. All he could hear were the distant murmurs and cries of the dead and… running water? Lighting a torch, Heracles followed the flow of water down and down and down even further until he couldn’t just hear the dead, he could see them too. Ghostly people wandered aimlessly from here to there, dressed as they were in life, they gathered around him, reaching for his light.
“Get off!” Heracles flicked them away and plowed on.
Soon, he came to a figure, sitting on a chair, scratching his head. When he got close, Heracles gasped. “Hephaestus’ fire! It’s Theseus.”
It was great to see a familiar face. But, even though they had been friends for years, Theseus stared at Heracles blankly.
“Do I know you?” Theseus asked.
Heracles had heard of a chair that made anyone who sat in it forget who they were. “Here!” Heracles held out his hand. “Let me help you up, stranger.”
The moment Theseus rose from the chair, he smiled. “Heracles!” What are you doing here?”
Heracles explained his task. When he was done, Theseus shook his head, “Hades won’t like you taking his pet.”
Exactly what Heracles had been thinking. He decided to visit Hades in his palace at the centre of the Underworld.
Hades was impressed that Heracles had come to him first. “You think you can take my hound?” he asked with amusement. “I’d like to see you try.”
“May I?” Heracles asked.
“Very well,” Hades nodded, “On three conditions. One, you subdue him without causing him any harm. Two, you bring him back when you’re done and three you tell me who sent you.”
“Deal!” Heracles said.
Now, all Heracles had to do was subdue the infernal beast, without causing it any harm. That should be easy.
Hades took Heracles to Cerberus. He’s not so bad, Heracles thought when the three-headed dog bounded up to Hades, wagging his spiked dragon’s tail and licked his master with two of his faces. Then the third face turned on Heracles and growled. Soon, the other two faces were growling too, then snarling and before Heracles knew what was happening, Cerberus had leapt on him. Three sets of heads baring three sets of fangs snapped at Heracles, who had to use every ounce of his strength to stop those jaws taking a chunk out of him. Cerberus was strong but Heracles was stronger, he wrestled the Hound of Hades down to the floor. The dog wriggled and thrashed and lashed out at him, but Heracles put all his weight on top of him and sat on him, until he finally calmed down.
“Very impressive,” Hades said, “Make sure you have him back by teatime.”
Having shown the dog who was boss, Cerberus became quite sweet. He licked Heracles hand and jogged along beside him as he left the Underworld. It was only when they got to King Eurystheus’ palace that he began to growl again.
King Eurystheus took one look at Heracles, entering his palace with the Hound of Hades at his heels and jumped into a nearby clay pot.
“As requested,” Heracles said, bowing before the King.
“Take it back!” King Eurystheus cried from inside his pot, “Don’t let it get me.”
Before Heracles could leave there was another visitor to the palace: Hades. “Are you the mortal who dared to send this hero into my realm?” His voice boomed so loud it shattered the pot, leaving King Eurystheus exposed. The King took one look at the God of the Underworld and burst into tears.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think he would dare to go.”
“You were wrong,” Hades boomed.
King Eurystheus hung his head. “I was only trying to think of heroic tasks.”
Hades looked the King up and down then turned to Heracles. “Enough is enough, you have proven yourself a true hero.”
Heracles could hardly believe his ears. Had a God finally decreed that he was a hero? “Brother!” Hades called and in an instant Zeus, Heracles’ father and the King of the Gods appeared.
Heracles and Eurystheus fell to their knees.
Zeus chuckled. “Son, you’ve done well, but it isn’t up to me to name you a hero. That is for the Goddesses to decide.”
Heracles’ hope died. He knew Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, was behind him, but his step mother, Hera, Queen of the Gods, hated him. She had said he would never be a hero.
Hera and Athena appeared in the throne room. King Eurystheus bowed so low he was practically lying on the floor.
“Get up, Heracles,” Queen Hera said. She was smiling. Heracles wasn’t used to seeing her smile, he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. “You have proven yourself, beyond a doubt, to be a true hero,” she said. “I object no longer.”
So Heracles was made a hero of Greece, arguably the greatest hero of Greece. His father, Zeus, painted an image of him in the stars, so everyone could look up and be reminded of his heroic deeds. The hero Heracles had many more adventures, but those are stories for another time...
The End
You can access all instalments of this epic tale here.
The twelve labours of Heracles (aka Hercules) is an epic from Ancient Greece. My version has been created from various sources and many years telling this story. This particular version was written for open source education for onebillion.org. If you want to republish or tell this version, I'd appreciate a link back to this site of credit given. Many thanks.
