The Sons of Mercury – The Trickster Heroes

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“Can we please just get on with this?” The man in the tracksuit was smiling in an infuriating manner.

The hostages still had tears pouring down their cheeks but were now staring in disbelieving slack-jawed astonishment at the man who hadn’t been there a moment before.

The leader of the terrorists was nearly purple-faced with rage.  This was supposed to be his moment. They’d trained for six months. The martyrdom operation had gone like clockwork, they even had the American ambassador’s daughter with the nice boobs. The streaming uplink was established in seconds they would have begun to…

“Bored now!” The man in the tracksuit declaimed his ennui, then turned his head and winked at the Ambassador’s daughter, just as the leader screamed at his men to fire. 

The girl clenched her eyes shut knowing the last sound she would hear was gunfire…  

Which she k-i-n-d of did. But it sounded like it was coming from miles away.  She experimentally opened one eye, squeaked, and clenched it shut again. She tried again a few seconds later. Nope, she was still on top of the Eiffel Tower, and the man in the tracksuit was now pouring two glasses of red wine. “Wha… what…” She stammered. 

“Well, they were on a suicide mission and they succeeded with that part of their plan,” the man in the tracksuit smiled brightly and handed her one of the glasses. “When the GIGN force entry in a few seconds they will discover the terrorists somehow managed to shoot each other in the head. I put your friends in the GIGN’s van, they’ll probably be safe there.”

He gently clinked his glass against hers. The ambassador’s daughter blinked twice, then dropped her glass and threw her arms around him, clutching him to her as tightly as she could. 

Tonight is going very well indeed, he thought to himself. 

What is a Trickster hero?

What defines a Trickster? Why do we look up to him? What is his purpose to those around him?

More importantly, why do we need him?

There is no pantheon without a trickster. No mythology without an agent of chaos in the court of gods.

The Trickster is not the enemy of the gods—for the most part. But he is the permanent thorn in their side. He’s the uninvited guest who rearranges the furniture and then somehow gets thanked for it. He follows you into a revolving door and somehow comes out in front of you and is holding your umbrella open for you just as the rain starts. 

He belongs to the Realm of Chaos, and though he is often dressed as villain, when he is heroic, his virtues are Prudence and Justice. He's terrible at Temperance and mostly indifferent to Fortitude. But sometimes that’s what the world needs more than anything else.

When the gods become too proud, too static, too certain in their authority, it is the Trickster who opposes them.

The Gods Need Him—Even If They Hate Him

Trickster gods are usually amoral. Not evil, but certainly inconvenient. And yet, they’re necessary.

Set is a good example. Yes, that Set—the one who murdered his brother Osiris by luring him into a sarcophagus during a party game and tossing him in the Nile. But this is the same Set also rode nightly with Ra through the underworld, guarding the sun-god against the demon Apophis. Pharaohs named themselves after him. He was chaos, but chaos in service to continuity.

Loki, too, was an unholy pain in Asgard’s ass. But without Loki, there would be no Mjölnir, no Sleipnir, and no golden gifts for the gods. When Thor’s hammer was stolen by the giants, it was Loki who donned the disguise and cooked up the scheme to retrieve it. They hated him. But they needed him.

Then there’s Mercury. When he stole Apollo’s cattle, he reversed their hooves and his own sandals to leave a false trail. And Apollo, predictably furious, ended up laughing in spite of himself. That’s the Trickster’s other power: not just cunning, but charm. (Side note: most Tricksters seem to have a dim older brother. Pattern recognition matters.)

There is Coyote in North America. In Africa there is Anansi; the spider who eventually turned himself into a rabbit that Disney refuses to mention but everyone else knows about.  That’s how cunning a Trickster is—he can even survive erasure by Mickey the Great and Terrible.

The Trickster Hero

Audiences love a clever hero—but they don't want all heroes to be clever. When Superman wins the day by outwitting the villain, something feels… off. A little too sneaky for a demigod in a cape. We want Kal-El to save the day by sheer, noble might. When he uses his brain, it feels like he’s off-brand

. Like something’s not right but you can’t put your finger on what.

But when the Flash wins through speed and cunning? That works. That feels right. Because the Flash is one of the Sons of Mercury.

He doesn’t throw thunderbolts or bench-press planets. But he bends time. He tricks inertia. He runs through reality, cheats fate with a laugh, and always seems to get there just in time. A Trickster crosses the boundary dividing law from chaos, to serve the ends of chaos, and the speedster does it at lightspeed.

The Trickster doesn’t merely defeat his enemies—he derails expectations. He rewrites the rules mid-game. In stories, this gives the audience catharsis. But it also gives them hope.

Chaos Against Tyranny

The Sons of Mercury serve justice when justice has failed.

The trickster is the last hope for those who feel crushed by fate, the hero who will “take up the gauntlet of heaven and oppose the order of life and the gods who proclaimed it so.”

To be a son of Mercury is to carry mischief in one hand and justice in the other.

To make the gods laugh—and then make them pay.

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