Chapter 11: The Prelude to the Final Battle

Within the carved halls of Mount Othrys, bathed in the soft radiance of divine torches, a council of the gods convened.

Metis, the Titaness ... or was she a goddess now? She did not know. All she did know is that she represented wisdom to the council she had gathered. She stood at the head of the stone table before the assemblage of the Olympian deities.

Zeus sat at the other end of the table with Hades on his left and Poseidon on his right. Their expressions were etched with cautionary resolve.

Prometheus, Demeter, Hestia, and Hera all sat on one side while Themis and Mnemosyne sat on the other.

As the council grew comfortable, Metis addressed the assembly. “The time we have awaited draws nigh for a final conflict with the Titans of Olympus. My sources say that Cronos himself shall step onto the battlefield.”

A solemn hush fell upon the assembly, for they knew that the arrival of Cronos marked a massive shift in their epic struggle.

“Why now?” Poseidon asked.

“From what I know, Cronos has mastered his divine powers, and he believes he has the measure of you three,” Metis answered, motioning to Hades, Zeus, and Poseidon.

“Then he has an advantage,” Hades replied bluntly.

“Maybe,” Themis replied. “But I think there are other parts of this battle that Cronos is not aware of,”

“Such as?”

“There is some dissent amongst the Titans. If we can hold Cronos off, or turn the battle, we might get enough of them to defect to our side,” Mnemosyne answered.

Metis nodded to acknowledge the Titaness’ words before speaking again. “With his imminent arrival comes the full measure of his power. Ready yourself. You must rest. Themis, Mnemosyne, and I will stand watch. When the Titans come down from Mount Olympus, we will meet this force.”

“Too bad we don’t have that rejuvenating ambrosia that Crius makes,” Poseidon said flippantly.

“We might see some change in that area,” Mnemosyne said calmly.

“Oh?” Hades asked, raising an eyebrow. With his arms crossed, he was ever the serious son of Cronos.

“Patience, Hades,” Themis said. “Things will reveal themselves with time. Further, we do not want to raise hopes, should our plan prove pointless.”

“What of your own advancements?” Metis wondered.

Poseidon looked confused by how much Metis knew. Then, before Poseidon could voice his concerns, Zeus responded. “My surprise for the Titans is coming along.” Zeus looked to his brothers.

“My Hooks might be able to rip free souls from their corporeal bodies sooner than later, Brother.”

Poseidon realized what Zeus was asking, but he felt unsure about answering in front of the others.

“Well, Brother?” Zeus asked. “Is Cetus ready?”

Poseidon motioned at the flesh above his liver. “Soon, the surprise will be ready.”

“My sisters and I have been working on a surprise or two of our own,” Hera put in.

Zeus nodded with satisfaction. “Then for now, we will trust that things will go apace and rest ourselves for the battle ahead.”

Metis nodded to the youngest son of Cronos. “Thank you, Zeus.”

Poseidon rolled his eyes at the pair. He, like most, was very much aware of the sexual connection between Metis and Zeus. While he did not care who his brother was in bed with, it mattered if Metis, who was supposed to be the advisor to each of the three brothers, was showing such blatant favoritism.

Despite Metis could see the judgment within Poseidon’s eyes, she did not care. Everything was coming together. That was what mattered. When she was sure no one else would say anything, Metis struck the table, adjourning the meeting.

As the gods rested, Metis, Themis, and Mnemosyne looked out at the Valley of Thessaly.

“Are you sure Cratus and his siblings will defect?” Mnemosyne asked.

“I think so,” Metis said. “I do not want to get the others’ hopes up though. Themis was right.”

“Then what should we do?” Mnemosyne.

“I will head back to Olympus as one of my family members,” Metis said. “It has worked so far.”

“And will your presence sway him and his allies?” Themis wondered.

“I think so,” Metis nodded. “Cronos has been despondent. I did not have to ferment much dissent. Cronos poisons his allies against himself far more than I have. But with Crius, Hyperion, and Coeus having so much power, and being so loyal to Cronos, the other Titans lack the courage to turn on their king.”

“Are we at the end of it now?” Mnemosyne asked.

Metis looked at the other two with ominous uncertainty. “I think so. One way or another, this conflict is coming to an end.”

“Go, Metis,” Themis said. “One day, we will speak of your deeds. Your actions will have tipped the balance.”

In the still of night, Poseidon saw Metis depart for Olympus in her usual act of duplicitous spy work. He grabbed his trident, leaving his sword at his bed. The work of the Cyclopes and Hecatoncheires were second to none.

The power flowed into it even as it flowed back into him. It built and built, until he felt he might burst with magical might. The energy needed to be released, and there were not always battles to take part in.

Thankfully, that led to the creation of Cetus.

Poseidon brought himself to the coast, to the raging sea.

From the depths of the churning, unforgiving sea, there emerged a monstrosity that might have struck terror into the hearts of other beings, but to Poseidon, this was the most wondrous creation. Cetus was a colossal creature, both a living embodiment of the tempestuous oceans it called home as well as a manifestation of Poseidon’s desire.

Cetus had been brought into the world from a piece of Poseidon’s flesh that he had poured his excess power into. Rather than empowering the Trident, and its power feeding into Poseidon until one or both of them burst.

Poseidon looked up at his creation.

Its massive body, covered in thick, scaly hide as dark as the abyss, coiled with powerful sinews that could propel it effortlessly through the water. Cetus’ form was a grotesque fusion of snakelike and leviathan, its serpentine tail trailing behind like a malevolent comet’s tail.

Its head sported a writhing tangle of tentacles that reached out with sinister intent. Eyes like burning embers smoldered in deep, sunken sockets, always watchful, ever hungry. A gaping maw lined with rows of jagged, obsidian teeth could swallow beings whole, crushing them within the clamorous jaws.

As it rose from the sea’s depths, the colossal creature would send towering waves crashing towards the shores. Poseidon marveled at the testament of Cetus’ dominion over the ocean.

“It is almost time,” Poseidon said. The wound over his liver had nearly healed. Still, when he was near his creation ... his friend ... all was well.

The night was shrouded in darkness, save for the distant glow of the stars that adorned the heavens. In the heart of Mount Othrys, two figures watched as Metis and Poseidon left to complete their tasks.

Together, they departed under the cover of the inky sky. They knew of their own secluded spot away from their sea-loving brother.

Zeus sat cross-legged upon a rocky outcrop; his brow furrowed with intense concentration. In his hands, he cradled a new, special thunderbolt. Its divine aura crackled with raw power.