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Chapter One
Cages and Coliseums
Many tales of the Greek Gods have been passed down from stories to lore then legend. Most of which you may have heard. The story of strife, struggle, love, and loss of the great battle between the Gods and Titans of old who were meant to slay them. The battlefield ran red with the blood of both Titans and Gods merging and flooding the earth as the war raged on. The primordial deity Gaea(earth) could only look on in horror and hide in her banishment from Cronus. Cronus was the leader of the Titans after he managed to overthrow his tyrant father Ouranus(heaven) from the throne. Killing him with a sharp swing of his scythe vowing to rule eternal. As he did, only later was he to discover from the fates a prophecy that a son would be born to eventually take the throne he so desperately craved. Time would pass and as fate decreed, he would eventually spark the flame giving birth to the Gods. He did everything he could to preserve his rule and one after the other began to devour his children. However, in the end, no one, not even Titan or God can change their fate. Fighting tirelessly against the tide of prophecy, he would never alter the path of destiny. One would find it easier to fight the tide of the ocean or stop the rising or falling of the sun and moon than sway the fates that had been woven.
Many years would pass as Cronus ate his children, in his perfected vision to deliciously control his outcome serving his lust of ruling the cosmos for eternity. Rhea his wife only surpassed by her rage with grief after the loss of her fifth child to her violent, delusional, and paranoid husband, came to plead with his mother Gaia for aid. As she began to beg on her knees, her eyes welling with tears Gaia could sense the heart beating within her womb. Together a plan was hatched to hide her away on the island of Crete where the Olympian Zeus was to be born. Upon the birth of the child, Cronus would discover her treachery. Returning to face her husband she would beseech him to spare her child only as part of a greater deception knowing his madness had overtaken him. Demanding her to surrender the child she quickly gave in and handed over the small, swaddled entity to be devoured instantly without remorse.
This, however, was part of the rouse as in his haste it was not Zeus that he swallowed, but the Omphalos stone. A mother's mercy would lead to Rhea hiding him away in a cave on Mount Ida and watching over him as he grew to be a man. Vowing to save his siblings Zeus now hatched his plan. Disguised as a cupbearer Zeus snuck into Cronus's chamber offering him gifts and an emetic drink only fit for a King. Feeding his ego Cronus lifted the cup to his lips and ignorantly gulped down the drink immediately causing him to violently disgorge the children residing in his gut. With that, the time of the Titanomachy, the great war between Titans and Olympians which was prophesized was now upon him. Zeus harnessing lightning and rage waged a battle against Cronus. Ten years would pass before this war would finally reach a climax.
As each Titan was slain in battle, so too did so many Gods. Oceanus was the first to fall surrendering his domain of the seas to Poseidon. The second was Hyperion, as he lay fallen and slain relinquishing power over the sun to Helios. Again, and again the two factions would clash in tides of battle until the last Titan stood...Cronus. His father, once referred to as the deity Saturn by man, was now feeble, humbled, and humiliated. As he fell to his knees defeated by Zeus, fate's destiny was fulfilled, this is where the story splits and is shrouded in mystery. As to what happened next to Cronus, the story changes with each bard that recants the tale. Some weave a story of imprisonment by Zeus. Castrated and murdered as was the fate of Cronus's father before, he was banished to the depths of Tartarus. Joined only by his other fellow Titans would be tortured for eternity as his war trophy while the Olympians would rule far above. Here they would stay to serve as a reminder of all that Zeus had conquered. Others say Cronus was in time forgiven and sent to Elysium to live as a king in a paradise forever immortal, a place for the blessed dead. The truth lies nowhere and yet somewhere in between. This is where our story begins.
Zeus on the highest peak in all of Greece was now King among all the Gods on Mount Olympus. An amazing city seated high above the rest of the world. Its' buildings shone brightly made of gold, silver, and jewels that glistened as they caught the rays of the sun. Far above the rest towering above all was Zeus's throne room. Two hundred meters high made of pearls and ivory which was a gift from his brother Poseidon as a sign of submission and fealty to Zeus's crowning after the war's conclusion. Hera taken as his wife, placed a golden statue depicting Zeus's fury as he hurled thunderbolts during the Great War eluding to a conqueror's victory on either side of the great hall. Many of the other gods provided similar gifts, all swearing fealty. Among the gifts, there was one more important than the rest. A special gift made by Hephaestus crafted under surreptitious circumstances. The need for such a gift was not suited to Zeus's pride. However, quite the opposite, as fate it seems has a sense of humor and it would be his fear that would bring this gift to creation.
In zealous, it was curiosity and ignorance that would lead Zeus to climb to the forbidden tower to ask the weavers of fate a singular question. Knowing that at least they would not lie to him, but also not tell him the truth. Answers shrouded in mystery were their specialty and while the thought of entertaining their riddles was infuriating his choices were limited. "The answers you seek may very well lead some to only more questions", Zeus felt the acidic taste of these words as he mumbled them to himself, but he needed answers. He needed to know the intended fate of his father rather than act as hastily as his father had with Ouranus. So, as the moment of his crowning celebration reached its pinnacle, disappearing into the shadows, in secret Zeus would make his journey to the spinners of fate. Shifting his focus from the celebration he began his accent. Turning and following the pearlescent staircase that would lead to the top of the mountain that spanned the skyline around Olympus entering through the archway to Temple of Life. Making his way to the catacombs within he would find several million life threads winding around the room with keepers he sought within. The blind sisters would appear before him as three women blanketed in robes as white as the heavens. Floating down towards him one after another they slowly made their way into the light of the room. One is a young girl representing innocence, the next is an adult woman a symbol of purity, and the last is an elderly woman holding wisdom eternal.
Entering the temple, he demanded answers as to what path to choose for his chained foe. With the fates floating through the life strands webbed throughout the entirety of the temple they would approach Zeus with only riddles for answers as "no one should know too much of their future." He carefully listened to them as they spun him a prophecy foretelling of an unstoppable apocalypse that would unfold if Zeus were to slay the Titan King by his hand or the hand of any god. "No matter how many times the coin of destiny was flipped this was inevitable". "However, allowing him to live would see a second coming of the Great War as there is no prison that would contain Cronus forever and would allow him to return for his vengeance against the gods".
The sky turned grey over Olympus and lightning erupted searing the air as Zeus paced his throne room recalling and cycling the words in his head. Settling his mind on one single option he may yet find a way to conquer fate itself. Announcing to all after the celebration that the titan that had cast them all aside or imprisoned them had been executed and could torment them no more. The lie was fleeting across the sea of his Gods in attendance, eagerly being accepted. Perhaps it was their relief from fear that made the words of such a phrase so inviting. Forging the truth, however, would prove to be quite a bit more difficult. Frustrated and furious he would exchange an unquestionable favor from the King to Hephaestus in return for his craftsmanship and swear him to secrecy. For all knew that betrayal meant death. "Make me a cage that can contain the sun for all time" commanded Zeus. "Let any God's power only tighten the lock and reinforce the bars so that no one may ever free him." "Him, my King?" questioned Hephaestus. Without turning to face him, "Just grab your hammer blacksmith, and craft me a treasure to impress your King" commanded Zeus. Hephaestus accepted the challenge as this would be a testament to his artistry and quickly began canvassing the Earth for the strongest alloys and metals. How to contain the uncontainable was truly a mystery. After a fortnight, a vision, the perfect idea would wake him in the middle of the night, jolting upward and sprinting to his workshop. There is only one creation in all of time itself that would suit his means of this almost impossible task.
"Adamant!" An "unconquerable" metal melted down from the very sickle that Cronus wielded to seize the throne from his father. The rarest and most divine metal used by Cronus to kill so many Gods would now unknowingly become the instrument of his imprisonment. Smiting God after God during the war infusing into the metal their strengths, powers, and immortality, was now all being used to strengthen this prison. This would be the crowning jewel of creation. Swinging his hammer, ringing out into the night, smelting and re-forging the metal. This beautifully crafted secret was fused and intertwined into the foundation of a lavish throne thought by Hephaestus to be a symbolic gesture to the chains of bondage and death in which all Gods had been spared. Fate's ever-winding path it seemed would be sealed away broken and untraveled. Crafted nearly one thousand years ago to the day, its strength has never wavered. It stood everlasting against time with its secret kept and its existence unknown containing the Titan eternal.
"Today is the day brother" exclaimed Apollo as he walked naked into the bath chamber. He seemed to float with each stride as he made his way towards the warm bath. Long flowing blonde hair with a physique that looked to be chiseled by the sun itself. It was clear to all why Apollo was considered the most beautiful of all the Gods. "There's no avoiding it this time," he said with a smirk as he casually passed Hermes to find his place within the steaming vapors rising from the surface of the pool. Hermes stared only down at the water as the slow ripples swayed out from his legs. Deep in thought barely listening to the words. "Hermes, you have to enter you don't have a choice my brother", Apollo prodded. "Yes, brother I know, but it is barbaric, and I have no lust for power, glory, or battle as you and the rest of our disfunction siblings." Battle? That is what they called it, more of a glorified sacrifice to the sound of heroic trumpets it seemed. Every year on the same day preceding the solstice a great battle would take place. Peering out into the distance Hermes could see it, the place where destiny for some would end and others begin.
In the distance was a great colosseum where the gods would once upon a time do battle for sport and entertainment. What had started as a test of skill for any volunteer willing to hear the cheers of the crowd had become a brutal brawl with a singular result of death for dominion and power. For in this arena when a god was slain, his essence and power transferred to the victor. What a glorious trophy to hold while being graced with the privileged momentary seat on the throne. Just another opportunity to pucker up and polish Zeus's ass cheeks, but yet time and time again Gods would clash and battle for this momentary bliss with none being more victorious than Zeus himself. Some would suppose it to be a self-righteous way to keep himself supplanted firmly on his throne or perhaps feed into his Titan-sized ego.
Only this year was different, this year there were rumors of changes in the elements of Zeus's little game. For this contest was no longer strictly volunteer. If one hasn't partaken in the Arena in 1000 years, then by command of Zeus you will be entered as a contender with the right as the victor to challenge for the throne. A contender? Me, Hermes, oh the mighty messenger God he thought to himself sarcastically. How can I possibly survive this, with the winged speed of the heavens? There were once thousands of us Gods prattling around in the heavens. Maybe this is all just a way to cull the herd as a shepherd would his flock in a season.
"What a mighty flock we have become, I'm sure our shepherd would be proud," Hermes mumbled to himself. "And what of the smith, too busy in his workshop constructing owls to be bothered?", turning to finally acknowledge Apollo. Shrugging at the question, "If he died in the games then who would make the swords and shields." "Besides I don't want to be left to babysit his birds, it may spring a leak all over my wardrobe." With that and a spiteful laugh, Apollo was gone leaving only a trail of wet symmetrical footsteps out of the chamber. Returning to his fixated gaze on the colossal amphitheater for many moments, Hermes finally accepted that now was the time. Living a life of submissive servitude to the almighty Zeus and dancing between the lines of lies and deceit of Hera to stay in her favor and for what? To be forced into a game of death in which the winner gets bestowed the gift of strength and further immortality used only to be bound into a reciprocating wheel. No, if this must come to an end it will be on my terms. No more rules or sacrifices.
After all, breaking the laws of the Gods seemed to be quite the trend. How many Demi-god bastard sons and daughters had Zeus, Poseidon, and even Hera when it suited her, had they revealed themselves to? When they did so, they created heroes known to all with accolades sung into lyrical ballads, yet for the rest of us, it's a death sentence or at least a chance to grovel and kiss Zeus's feet for mercy. A permanent visit to see Hades as it was called as I remember and isn't that quite the vacation hotspot this time of year. Death seems very much futile now, but if I am to die for sport or spite, "my son will know me." No more subliminal gifts or visits either in disguise or from a distance. I will see him and prepare him for horrors that await the world and make the rest of his family known to him. He must know that he is not alone. He scaled his wings out as he could feel his anger and frustration rising clinching his fist tightly. Ripples quaked out along the edges of the pooling water and vapor erupted upward like a volcano from the once placid mirrored surface. The steaming air wisping through now a violent vortex leaving behind only a mist in the breeze and an empty wet void where Hermes had pondered his thoughts.
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