Chapter 6: A Prelude to War

“War, huh, yeah

What is it good for?

Absolutely nothing, uhh

War, huh, yeah”

-- Edwin Starr, War, from the album War & Peace, (1970), written by Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong, © 1970 Motown Records.

Poseidon stared out at the vast expanse of the water. After Zeus explained the family tree, he knew there was only one being he could seek out. As such, Poseidon threw himself into the ocean with abandon.

With the trident in hand, he released a laugh so long and loud that Poseidon feared that Cronos on Olympus could hear him. He could not help himself. It was so easy. Holding the trident was the most natural thing to him as though the metal was an extension of himself and always had been.

Beyond that, it had taken his affinity for water and bolstered it in a way that he could never have imagined. The second son of Cronos and Rhea understood intuitively that the waves were his to command. His power felt enhanced somehow. He knew where every drop was, what it would do, where it would go. The liquid could not displease him even if it wanted to.

That water told him where he would need to go, and sure enough, as he swam faster than any being alive, Poseidon came upon the home of a Titan.

On the westernmost shores of Greece was where the land met the boundless extent of the sea, and upon that very land stood Oceanus’ magnificent palace. This abode was a marvel that rose above the waves like a shining beacon. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden hue upon the waters as Poseidon approached the awe-inspiring edifice that melded seamlessly with both the land and sea.

For one who had been trapped within the belly of Cronos, the palace’s grandeur was unlike anything Poseidon could ever have expected. The manifestation to the power and majesty of Oceanus made Poseidon flinch and second guess his decision to approach the edifice.

The structure’s architecture was a blend of arcane elegance and natural beauty. Towers crowned with spires rose from the earth with the very ends touching the heavens themselves as if to represent the relationship that the ocean was the child of the earth and sky. The walls were embellished with intricate carvings depicting playful dolphins, swirling currents, and schools of exotic fish that seemed to swim across the very stone.

Poseidon slowly made his way toward the palace. The empty courtyard at the front of the construct filled Poseidon with worry even as he was surrounded by colonnades adorned with seashells and mother-of-pearl. The courtyard had floral arrangements of exotic aquatic plants bloomed in vibrant hues. They had a fragrance unique that seemed to carry on the ocean breeze to Poseidon’s senses.

Poseidon’s eyes were inevitably drawn to the palace’s main hall of the imposing structure. Its entrance was guarded by statues of mythic sea creatures. While he was certain that the stone was not alive, their eyes were alight with gleaming power. The doors were carved from the finest ground seashells and adorned with precious gems.

How could one have compacted that much of any substance until it looked like wood? He was new to the open lands of Greece, so every discovery was a marvel to Poseidon, and he relished in it.

As Poseidon entered the palace, he was struck in the face by a sense of awe. The interior was no less magnificent than the exterior. Massive windows framed panoramic views of the surrounding ocean, rivers, and the setting sun. The walls and ceilings wide and tall while also having an enormous amounts of room for anyone within its confines. Further, the innersides borders were adorned with intricate mosaics that seemed to shift and change with the play of light, so as he walked, Poseidon saw different events of the sea in a fluctuating kaleidoscopic dance of waves and currents.

At the heart of the main hall stood two thrones of masterful craftsmanship. Luxury was not a strong enough word for what he saw. Carved from the rarest coral and adorned with a combination of pearls and gemstones, the room radiated a serenely regal aura.

There were two Titans sitting on the thrones. The Titaness was the definition of beauty and grace while the Titan was enormous and unknowably powerful just like the sea itself.

“Well, well, well,” Oceanus, the Titan of the Sea, said. “If it is not Cronos’ little crotch spawn. How are you enjoying the outside world?”

Poseidon stared up in confusion at the Titan of the Sea. Whatever he had expected from his uncle, this was not it. All his life in the belly of his father, Poseidon had loved the water, and when he had discovered there was a huge body of the fluid, he had grown excited by who ruled its domain.

“You’re Oceanus?” he asked, completely let down by the reality of the person.

“I am,” the Titan replied blithely. “And I assume you’re one of Cronos’ sons that might end up deposing him.”

Despite the disinterest from the Titan of the Sea, Poseidon grew more confused, and it showed on his face.

“You don’t know?” Tethys, the wife of Oceanus, asked. She looked at Oceanus and then back at Poseidon. Incredulity was painted all over her features.

Poseidon smiled at Tethys but shook his head.

Oceanus contemplated what was said before shrugging. It was clear that whatever he thought, he barely thought of his brother, let alone the offspring of the Titan King.

“Cronos was told that he would be deposed by his son, much like our father, Ouranos, was deposed by Cronos,” Oceanus explained.

The notion had caught Poseidon off guard. Zeus had not told him that. Was his brother withholding that information or did Zeus not know?

“Then, do you mean to stop us?” Poseidon asked, gripping his trident fiercely.

Oceanus opened his hand. A torrent of seawater flowed into the room. It rushed towards Poseidon. Poseidon only had to raise his weapon, and the water swirled around him rather than harming him. The water acquiesced to Poseidon’s will over Oceanus.

“I do not believe I could even if I wanted to,” Oceanus remarked, pointing at the swirling water. “Beyond even that, I don’t agree with Cronos, little godling. Cronos devouring you and your siblings was wrong. I celebrate your freedom, but I don’t want another fight. I saw the damage between Ouranos and a few of us. If you all battle Cronos and his allies, you will destroy this amazing world.”

“We are not looking to destroy this world,” Poseidon said quickly with raised hands. “We only want to live without the fear of being devoured by our father.”

“A fair hope,” Tethys said, nodding. “Existence where children are not consumed by their parents is not unreasonable. Surely, we can help in this endeavor somehow even if we do not fight.”

Oceanus heard his wife and nodded in agreement. He paused to think. Poseidon could see that the contemplation was complicated, but not how serious the contemplation was.

“Metis,” he called out.

He waited a few moments. As the Titan of the Sea, he was accustomed to others coming when he called.

Sure enough, a female divinity of fair skin and blonde hair, wearing a golden helm and dress of flowing silver, entered the room. She was lean, almost well muscled, but she was not dainty in any regard. Her eyes were a striking silver-blue that could pierce through the armor of anyone and get to their heart.

“This is Metis. She is our wisest daughter,” Oceanus explained. “From what I have gathered, she has been secretly meeting with Gaia, giving her counsel, so when my mother advised your brother, Zeus, he would be acting less rashly.”

Oceanus let out a small burst of laughter, recalling events in his own foolhardy life.

Poseidon was shocked by this other revelation. He might have voiced his surprise and confusion, but he felt it might do him no good. More than that, he worried to look foolish in front of such an important individual and his wife.

Metis looked at her father in her own bafflement.

“Did you not think I, as the Titan of the Ocean, did not know?” Oceanus said with a laugh. “While I and my wife have not helped Zeus or Gaia, we have never stood in their way.”

“And I believe that times are changing,” Metis said with a kind, soothing voice. “We will need a new king, and while you gods might have the power to destroy Cronos, we cannot have conflict that consumes the realm of Greece.”

“Thank you, for your generosity, Oceanus and Tethys,” Poseidon said with a bow. Turning to Metis, Poseidon inclined his head to her, as a sign of respect. “Will you accompany me back to my brothers?”

“I will,” Metis said.

In the shadows of Oceanus’ palace, servants, nymphs, and children of the Ocean Titan all looked on. For their own individual reasons, each wanted to see the first of the newer generations of the ruling divinity on Olympus.

However, a single daughter looked out for a longer period of time than her counterparts. Her eyes lingered on Poseidon with his trident in hand. She wondered if he was sweet and kind as well as powerful.

Would he be bringing devastation upon Chaos’ creation of Greece or simply a change in regime? Anything from those two options to anything in between was a possibility. That sort of reform was scary to have on her mind.

She would not be allowed to think about it for much longer as her father would call out to everyone of the Oceanids in earshot, which was a lot given the fact that he could make his voice booming.

“Come out now, children. Our guest has gone. You should return to your daily duties.”

“Yes, Father,” they all proclaimed. However, the girl called Amphitrite continued looking at the god of the seas riding away on the ocean’s water.

The summit of Mount Olympus had an eerie silence. After the heavens nearly fell, the tension of the godly city hung heavy in the air. The once-majestic palace bore the scars of a battle between father and sons in the throne room.

There were only two individuals in the space.

Unlike his counterparts, Iapetus was far more observant and was one to pick at problems. Coeus was certainly far more intelligent than him, but this was where their forms of understanding of reality differed.

As such, Iapetus had decided to stay when his Titan brethren left to prepare for battles with Cronos’ offspring.

A blend of determination for the truth and concern for Olympus and his family was churning through his mind. Facts he knew were not aligning with what Cronos was telling him. The more he put those two pieces together, the more his mind extrapolated and came up with suppositions that would bridge the gap between the two opposites.

He leaned against a pillar in the throne room. While he was not being loud, he was very aware that his kingly brother could see him.

Cronos looked toward his brother after he realized that they were alone. His gaze was vacant, but held an all-encompassing stare.

“Iapetus.”

Cronos’ voice was laced with an unsettling undercurrent. That did not bode well for the father of the creator twins.

“Why are you still here?” Cronos asked. He paused for a moment as irritation seeped into his words. “It is bad enough that Oceanus did not appear. Now, you’re not moving hastily enough to protect Olympus.”

“You know Oceanus,” Iapetus remarked nonchalantly. “He rarely leaves his palace after the fall of Ouranos.”

“Do not offer excuses for our brother’s shit behavior,” Cronos countered.

Iapetus bristled at Cronos’ foul language. The father of Atlas felt that as divine beings, they had outgrown profanity after Ouranos fell. The Titan had to let his personal distaste go so as to better focus on his plea.

“Brother, I implore you to alter your course,” Iapetus said, his voice resonating with a mixture of conviction and urgency. “We stand on the precipice of a greater carnage than what we wrought against Ouranos. This conflict could shatter the very fabric of our existence.”

Cronos’ laughter, cold and hollow, cut through the silence.

“And? Brother, Fate bends to my will! We will prevail over this tantrum from my children, and when we are done, I will destroy them and cast their spirits into Tartarus with our father where they belong!”

Iapetus took a step forward. All the while, his eyes locked onto Cronos. The Titan King was resolved in his course, which only cultivated a sense of sad caution in the father of Menoetius. Reason had been the remedy to any madness that Cronos showed, but if he would not hear sensible sanity from a trusted ally, then he was allowing himself to fall into a condemnation worse than Ouranos.

“Cronos, you were once a beacon of strength for us,” Iapetus said honestly. “When our father had fallen into depravity and crossed the line by taking Rhea and imprisoning our older siblings, we stood with you against him and his injustices.”

Iapetus faltered, shaking his head. So many emotions were building up in him, yet he wanted to make sure to communicate effectively. The might of Cronos was a dangerous aspect to this conversation; Iapetus needed to not enrage his brother. He would still find a way to speak truth even in those trying moments even with those difficulties.

“The path you tread now is destructive,” Iapetus went on. He stood up straight and faced the Titan King. “I ask you to consider sparing your sons. Those boys--”

“Those upstarts, you mean?” Cronos exclaimed. His voice dripped with disdain. “They attacked me! They are challenging the legacy we’ve built! These are the consequences of their defiance!”

“Have you thought about why they attacked you?” Iapetus challenged. “Was it not you who was devouring them?”

“As you can see, I had good reasons to do that!”

Iapetus exhaled. With rising tempers, he knew he would not win. He measured his own breathing to make sure that he was calm enough to affect his surroundings.

“I beg you to reconsider, my brother” Iapetus implored. While he was calm, he raised his voice as he continued. “Their potential is immense, and they still carry your bloodline. If we could defeat father, there is nothing stopping them from doing the same to you. We must find another path forward. That means we need to have peace with your sons.”