ToZ Bk 1: These Three Kings
Copyright© 2024 by Carlos Santiago
Chapter 5: A King Without a Sky
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 5: A King Without a Sky - In the aftermath of the Great Titan War, the sons of Cronos—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades—draw straws to determine their realms. Zeus claims Greece and Olympus, Poseidon takes the sea, and Hades becomes the ruler of the Underworld. Follow their personal journeys as they acclimate to their new responsibilities and face the challenges that come with their newfound power.
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Fan Fiction High Fantasy War Alternate History Far Past Paranormal Magic Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Grand Parent Cream Pie Exhibitionism Big Breasts Body Modification Nudism Revenge Royalty Violence
“All of this realm are born of darkness, boy. It’s part of everything you’ll ever see. The mortals on the surface, they all fear it, foolish as they are. Unable to even see its power.”
— Hades (as voiced by Logan Cunningham), Hades (2020), written by Greg Kasavin. Developed and published by Supergiant Games. Originally released September 17, 2020. Copyright © 2020 Supergiant Games. All rights reserved.
The dawning light on Olympus heralded another new day. Change was afoot for every partition of Greece. Helios’ first rays bathed the mountaintop and all that was under the mount’s rule. The grandeur of the gods’ abode glistened with golden celestial beauty that was the envy for all.
No part of Chaos’ concocted land could match the place the prominent sierra constructed through the sexual unification of their Primordial offspring.
On this morning, the Chthonic gods of Nyx, Thanatos, and Hypnos stood at the entrance of Olympus, waiting for Hades.
Hypnos appeared half-awake with a languid and drowsy appearance despite his scarlet tunic and fine trim.
Thanatos bore a perpetual air of indifference as if he were eternally unaffected by the events of the world because life held little interest for him; death was his domain, and demise was where his interest would always lie.
Even in his dingy gray chiton, he was noble and beautiful. He had a young, clean shaven face. His hair was short, white, and always well-maintained as a dutiful son to the Primordial of Night.
Nyx did not pay much attention to her child, not from neglect but the understanding that both would not be able to be disobedient or act up while in her presence. The combination of age and power allowed one such as her to expect compliance from most other beings. Scarcely was she ever denied. With focus on the task at hand, her sable eyes watched.
Before too long into this new day, the eldest son of Cronos approached with the quiet dignity of befitting a Prince of Olympus. No longer was this his station, for the drawing of lots had solidified his position in the hierarchy of the cosmos.
While he did not adore the outcome of the straws, Hades had accepted the results; therefore, his newfound role in existence was to be the King of the Underworld rather than to be an inhabitant of Olympus.
The mountain was where the light of reason and resplendence resided. If one wanted pageantry, beauty, happiness, and a better day tomorrow than yesterday, Olympus was where people would fight to be. While not spoken between the gods when they battled Cronos and the Titans, to live upon Olympus was the prize they had all seen because (to them) living on Olympus represented freedom.
Hades had lived in the belly of his father before the war. It had been his tortuous prison. The war had been his reprieve, but in the end, another jailer in Nyx had come to take him to a part of existence that was just as much of a confinement as the stomach of Titan of Time.
Very few of the gods had been to the Underworld during the Great War.
Why should anyone go there? The only thing interesting was that the Fates lived there. All else was that of death and shadows.
The idea almost made Hades laugh. When he grew up in his organic incarceration, he used to mumble about the dark loneliness and the blood of the animals his father consumed. It should only be fitting that he should find a home in such a languid place.
He raised his head to look upon the Primordial.
Nyx’s keen gaze fell upon him. She was capable of recognizing all of his concerns. The fear of the unknown, pain of leaving love behind, the uncertainty as to what he could do next, and even the smaller parts of himself that even he did not observe about himself...
She understandingly noticed every detail because she was both a good mother and because this matron could empathize with being an outcast.
Chaos had favored Gaia and Ouranos. Tartarus and Erebus yearned to be alone. Eros vanished early on. This left Nyx to find attachments and connections where she could. However, by the time the Titans were born, she lived in Tartarus and Erebus’ Underworld.
To try and relate to these younger beings, who were her nieces and nephews, became quite the impossible task for her. They had ambitions to create and expand. Their lives were about acquiring skills and earning the approval of their parents. Nyx knew her mother and father in that of the Progenitor. She never needed to know where she stood with Chaos because Chaos loved her. That Nyx existed was all the Primordial had needed in terms of approval or adoration for millennia.
This was a separation of what made a Primordial from what made a god though.
This schism was not that of insult but rather of truth. The Titans had yearned for the approval of the Primordials, and when Ouranos had betrayed his children, the Fates, and his wife, he was doomed to die by his child’s hands. In turn, Cronos had been cruel, and a vicious cycle continued. This ultimately led to his removal from power.
By Nyx’s estimation, the problem was that these unhealthy familial relations were what led to someone like Hades wanting and needing approval. For this, she felt compassionate pity for him.
Her eyes reflected this empathy as well as memories of her own exile.
“Are you ready, Child?” Nyx asked.
That was all she could do in her way. She realized upon asking the question that Hades shivered. Her voice was not dissimilar to the Progenitor. In a way, she might have taken after her ancestor more than her siblings, yet this was not cause for concern to her for two reasons.
One, a child should take after the best qualities of their parents. Two, Nyx was not usually surrounded by others, so any mannerisms or actions she undertook were not problematic since others could not react to what they did not see.
Nevertheless, Hades showed his resolve to her when he touched her arm as he had with his brother during the beginning of the Great War. Both Thanatos and Hypnos did not need to touch their mother. They knew how to instantaneously transport themselves from Olympus to the Underworld to the Living Realm in whatever order was needed.
When there was commitment in the contact, the company was teleported away from the heights of Olympus.
“Welcome to your new home, Hades as the King of the Underworld,” Nyx said, her voice a deep resonance that seemed to echo through the hallowed halls of Olympus.
Hades accepted the new title with a grim countenance. Nyx had heard this was his way, but still, she was all too aware that there was uncertainty about him.
The halls of the Underworld were a stark contrast to the ethereal glow of the mountaintop. Still, Hades did not betray his inner emotions.
Nyx could almost respect his ability to hold fast to his norm.
Hades understood that he had lost the gamble. To accept his position was better than another war. Ultimately, he was not being punished. He was being made a King of a Realm. Poseidon had the Sea, and Zeus had the Sky and Olympus. All three would share dominion over the Living Realm.
That did not stop Hades from feeling this domain was meant to be his banishment from the other divine beings.
Nevertheless, if the Underworld was his calling, he was prepared to answer.
The air felt heavier than on the mountain. Hades had been to the Underworld before to solicit assistance from Nyx, but at the moment, all he felt was an oppressive pressure on his being accompanied by an eerie stillness that seemed to slow the ichor in his veins.
This ominous silence prevailed over himself and those that had brought him. The faint glow of the fires within Tartarus was the sole source of illumination. This was not the bright blue and white light of the Flame of Olympus, nor that of natural fire in that of orange and red; not even the golden yellow of Helios was the light in this existence.
A hollow virescent phosphorescence reached out and clawed out its territory against the impossible black abyss of this place. This emerald glinting of light felt weak and dead compared to the living darkness that had made this location its home.
Hades could almost respect such a might of gloomy tenebrosity if it were not for the emptiness to the realm. This addition to his reality left Hades feeling uneasy. When he closed his eyes in the belly of his father, he imagined being trapped in a place where he could not see, could not move, and could not scream.
The Underworld was quickly starting to feel like a manifestation of his nightmares.
He was shaken from his despair when he perceived a sound in the distance. The unmistakable clinking of chains could be heard. Hades shivered at the reminder of the recent conflict that had shaped the destiny of the Titan predecessors.
Approaching them was the specter of Ouranos, the Last Primordial. He was a thunderstorm given sinew. He was vast and unknowable and yet entirely male. This was a being of power and contradiction.
Hades had not truly laid eyes on his grandfather and examined until that moment. The new King of the Underworld might have been in this Realm multiple times, but Ouranos had not been his focus.
The Primordial King was every bit the creator of the ferocious skies as Hades had been led to believe. So terrifying was he that Hades was agape, letting his mouth hang low in astonishment.
Hades paused, breathing an acknowledgment of the former ruler.
“ ... Ouranos...”
This was all he could say about his grandfather.
As for the Last Primordial, Ouranos did not recognize or hear the little god’s words. He simply continued walking. Step by step, he gradually faded into the darkness.
“What happened?” Hades wondered.
“Did no one ever tell you the story?” Nyx asked, confused. She stared at Hades with disbelief.
“We were too busy winning a war,” Hades pointed out.
Nyx inclined her head to his point. In this way, Nyx was glad that she was given the most logical thinking of the three brothers. She knew the measure of Poseidon and Zeus, and she knew (without a single doubt) that neither of them would be capable of having the discipline to manage the Underworld nor would they have the maturity for her to interact with them in any meaningful way.
“That is fair,” she replied. Nyx had to think for a moment. There were things she knew about his mother and father. As Rhea was above with the living, Nyx thought it best to leave her reputation intact.
“Long ago, after being crowned by Chaos, your grandfather sought to undo Chaos, and seat himself as the Progenitor.”
“As Father wanted to unseat Ouranos?” Hades wondered.
“Yes and no. There is a difference between being King of Olympus, and being the Great Progenitor. All things came from Chaos. While I am sure my creator can be destroyed and we would live on, the power, wisdom, and eons of knowledge would be lost.”
Hades motioned that he was listening and for Nyx to continue. Nyx was a Primordial that existed as a plethora of knowledge herself. He would not surrender this moment to lose out on learning from her, nor would he be foolish to throw away what she brought to existence for the sake of power.
“As such, he sought to entangle my daughters in his scheme. He intended to turn the twelve Titans against Chaos, but to that end, he tried to use my daughters, the Moirai or what most of you young gods call the Sisters of Fate, to look into the future for him as if they were his to command.”
“And they were not?” Hades asked, genuinely curious.
“The Fates serve only their Tapestry,” Nyx informed. “They preserve the past, catalog the present, and consider the future. No one dictates to them.”
That seemed ridiculous to Hades. While he knew the Fates did exist and held great power over existence, to think that they were accountable to no one felt to be a recipe for disaster.
“Not even you?” Hades found himself asking.
Nyx shook her head with a single motion. She was not upset with his inquiry, but her mannerisms made clear that she had no intention of dictating to her children even if she could.
“No one,” she replied. “Not even Chaos has given them a directive as far as I understand it.”
Hades marveled at that possibility. Everyone was accountable to someone. A husband is accountable to their wife, and a wife is accountable to their husband. A brother or sister is accountable to their siblings. Fathers, like Cronos and Ouranos, were accountable to their children. The Fates did as they pleased; the very thought intrigued him but frightened him far more.
“But then your grandfather betrayed my daughters, and they undid him, cursing him and his throne.”
Hades marveled at that information because this knowledge was not well known by the public. However, to know that the Throne of Mount Olympus had a curse on it made him let out a sigh of relief, but then he thought of Olympus as a city needing continuance and Zeus only recently being crowned.
“The same throne my brother sits on?” Hades asked, worry laced into his voice.
Nyx nodded.
“Then is it not still cursed?”
“Perhaps it is,” Nyx said with consideration.
She paused to contemplate his question. She understood that Hades was caring despite his greater nature, so it would be in her best interest to answer him. That did not make the answer easier given the own gaps in her knowledge.
To ask her daughters about a prophecy that had nothing to do with her would get her nowhere. This left her more uninformed than she would have liked. No answer would not calm this young ruler, but then she considered him. While she was certain to know more would make him happy, truth was likely just as valuable.
“Perhaps it is not,” she went on. “It is not for us to know. The Fates will tell you your destiny, whether it is the past, present or future, but not others. And if they tell you that much of your fortune, they did so as a favor, not out of obligation or order.”
“Then I should show deference to the Fates?” Hades asked.
Nyx almost choked at the inquiry. No one had ever asked that sort of question before. Often, people wanted her daughters to hand them their destiny, and that be the end of any interaction with them. Her children (no matter their station) were not to be used or exist for the amusement of others.
“If you intend to enjoy your immortality,” Nyx replied with a smile, “I would say so.”
Already, she was liking this young fellow. He was not quite the king she had in mind for the Underworld, but he was not a child either. He was in this unique place where most of his features (both visible and not) were honed yet unfinished. Chaos and Nyx’s daughters were not done with him. Of that, Nyx was certain.
She refocused her attention to the landscape around them. After all, she was leading him in the Underworld that had been hers since the dawn of its creation.
Ahead, Hades and Nyx came across the spirits of Menoetius, Eurybia, and Theia. They drifted past, their spectral forms whispering tales of their torment. While there were other lesser known titans from the Great War who had been killed, Hades could not help but feel a small portion of sympathy for those three as they had been the first casualties in the conflict between god and Titan.
As they continued deeper into the Underworld, Nyx’s presence remained a steadfast guide for Hades. Her gaze fell onto him.
“This realm is now yours to command, Hades. You will watch over the dead and the titans, but it is much more than that. You will cultivate this realm even as Zeus will cultivate Olympus and the living lands of Greece and Poseidon will tend the ocean. This realm can be a blessing or a curse, but it is yours to do with as you please.”
Hades looked into her obsidian eyes. “Thank you, Nyx,” he said, looking over the realm of the Underworld.
Ouranos could have sworn he had heard something.
The sounds were reminiscent of something that had been told to him long ago. He heard names and whisperings for the first time in millennia.
That was unusual for the once-Primordial King. Once, when his son, Iapetus, died, he had not noticed his Titan son enter. Rather, for Ouranos, one day Iapetus was just there. He had no idea how his son had gotten there; he did not even know if people arrived like entering a house from an entrance, but then again, how could he?
Death was not a concept that the Primordials or Titans had ever considered after Chaos had created the fundamental forces for Greece. They foolishly believed that they could go on making and making with no end.
A weak whisper of a laugh escaped Ouranos’ lips. How foolish had he and the others been? Hubris had led to his death, but this punishing demise had been an excellent instructor, for he had learned his limitations.
Where once Ouranos had once sought to rule all of Greece and conquer the other lands and their goes, he had since realized that he did not know everything. His destiny was not to take what was not his. He was a king of a land for a time.
He should have been grateful.
Returning to the Underworld properly, the Last Primordial could have sworn he heard Nyx call the small being ‘Hades’ and that he was the ‘King of the Underworld’.
No. That could not have been right.
Ouranos had been given dominion over the Underworld for his mistakes by Chaos.
Lot of good that did him. Ouranos could not recall half of the events in the Underworld. More often than not, a stupor struck him to steal away his senses so that he might wallow in his despair.
But then, had not Chaos said something about a ‘deserving king’ and that this king would hand over the realm of the dead to another?
Ouranos had been in charge of the desolate wastelands for eons. He would not hand this land over to some upstart who had not even earned what little Ouranos had left. He considered how best to harm the small king, but then Ouranos saw something he had not seen before.
In the darkest parts of the Underworld, there was a light shining off the River Styx. As he followed it, he could feel the light of the living world was sparkling off of it.
Perhaps this baby known as Hades could have the Underworld. If Ouranos returned to the land of the living, he might be able to regain what he had once lost.
As Nyx continued her tour of the Underworld with Hades, she led Hades to a bleak and ashen ground. A remarkable tree stood in this location with twisted roots burrowing deep into the earth and bore pomegranates on its gnarled branches. They were as dark as the abyss and glistening with an otherworldly sheen.
Nyx gestured toward the tree as her inky black dress billowed in the ethereal breeze of death.
“Child,” she said in a way that made Hades feel small. “This tree was not born as yours on the surface or Olympus are. After a single step from my sister, Gaia, fertile soil was left in this Underworld, and Tartarus granted this creation form; Erebus granted it stillness.”
Nyx shook her head, recalling the years after. She understood that this moment could very well be a crucial one for Hades, so she was careful in how she spoke to him. The information was important; however, should he feel insignificant, he would not have the foundational strength necessary to be king.
“Gaia’s mourning for her fallen husband joined with the lamentations of Ouranos. Their tears both fell into this soil. Their shared grief intertwined with this Realm, and this tree sprang to life over time.”
As Hades observed the pomegranates, he sensed their unique power. He reached up, and he could feel a force that resonated with the energies of the Underworld.
“I believe these fruits are made for you,” Nyx went on.
“Why?” Hades wondered.
“These fruits, Child, carry the power to alter the essence of your being,” she replied. “Before ... your power, as with your brothers, has come from your connection to this land’s earth and sky because of your grandparents, and their connection to my ancestor.”
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