Chapter 1: Zeus’ Training

It had been fifty years since Zeus had been brought to Gaia. His power had been developing since that day. Gaia fostered him, teaching him from his youngest days. She did not start the lessons until she felt he was old enough to understand. Though he was fifty years old, he appeared to be a later teenager.

When a thunderstorm was about to form around Gaia’s Island, Zeus would lift his hand and a lightning bolt would strike him. The energy pulsed down to him, but he would simply throw the energy back at the sky. When that happened, the storm died before it could begin.

“Very good,” Gaia said, clapping her hands. While on her island, Gaia assumed a smaller form of an eight-foot-tall woman of greenery. She was still made up of the earth, trees, and rocks, but in her more compact form, even Zeus could see that the primordial earth goddess was breathtakingly beautiful.

It certainly did not hurt that Zeus’ grandmother never wore clothes. Like most divine beings, Gaia had the anatomy of her sex. She was beautiful in every way. The distraction might have given him an erection if Gaia had not taken the tone that warned Zeus that she was going to be giving him a lecture.

“Zeus,” Gaia began, “where do you stand?”

“Upon your island, Mother Earth,” Zeus replied respectfully.

Gaia began encircling her grandson. “That is a vaguery, young Zeus. What does that mean?”

“This island, like most of the lands of Greece, is part of you. But this island is your body itself. When you become one with this island, you take your truer form of a Primordial of one hundred feet tall.”

“Better,” Gaia said. “And what of your power? Your lightning?”

“It comes from the spark of divinity, bestowed upon us by Chaos. Some sparks are greater than others. With training, any being can master magic and power to become greater than others who have larger sparks.”

“And what if one has a greater spark and they battle one with a weaker spark?” Gaia wondered.

Zeus paused, to make sure he answered the question correctly. “If the one with a weaker spark cultivated their power, their connection to this world, they can overcome the one with the greater spark, especially if the one with the greater spark is lax in their study.”

“Very good,” Gaia said, walking up to Zeus and kissing him softly on the cheek. “Continue harnessing your power.” I want you to be ready for when your time comes to confront Cronos.”

“Yes, Grandmother,” Zeus said with a bow of his head. When Gaia disappeared, Zeus harnessed his power and began throwing his bolts of thunder and lightning at the sea and sky.

Cronos stared out at his kingdoms. Crius and Hyperion were indispensable. Both helped guide Cronos into the future. The realm of Greece was filled with bison, cattle, horses, satyrs, fawns, naiad, dryads, and other nymphs.

Soon those humans will be made. Cronos was excited at that prospect of bipedal beings who were not divine. Having human mortals walking the earth to worship the Titans might be good for the world.

Cronos wondered what that future would look like. Seeing his Titan Brothers, he wondered if Crius’ hands would ever heal. Cronos also marveled at Hyperion; with each day, the Titan of Light looked all the more magnificent. Cronos did not fear for the usurpation of his throne from his brothers. As the Fates told him, Cronos’ threat would come from a son, but Rhea had not born him a child since Zeus. With Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades within his belly, Cronos was unconcerned with the future.

In moments like this, when Hyperion and Crius visited, Cronos wondered how his sons survived the realm of his stomach.

After many years trapped in the belly of Cronos, both Poseidon and Hades gave in to frustration.

The two brought themselves to blows against one another. While they could not know that their powers were dampened by their father’s divine power weakening them, they still brought all of their efforts against one another.

The pulsating glow of divine energy from the godly sons illuminated the dim recesses of the belly, casting eerie shadows across the ancient walls. Poseidon, with his striking blue eyes gleaming like the sea, stood proudly across from his gloomy brother.

On the other side of the stomach stood Hades. His eyes reflected the depths of darkness found in Cronos’ belly. His very demeanor exuded a solemn aura, embodying the power of death and darkness.

A gust of wind swirled around Poseidon, and a chilling aura enveloped Hades. Despite their weakened abilities, the primal forces of divinity still surged within them.

Poseidon lunged forward, launching a torrent of water toward Hades. The water was taken from the acid of Cronos. In Poseidon’s hand, the acid purified itself to become water and be a weapon for the god. This water surged with relentless force.

While Poseidon charged for the eldest son of Cronos, Hades countered calmly, standing still. He waved a hand of dark energy, pushing back the waters. The powerful clash of elements threw Poseidon back.

“How does that always work on you?” Hades asked with frustrated confusion. The only thing he loathed more than losing was winning when he should have lost. Poseidon making it too easy removed so much of the enjoyment.