Prologue: The Twelve Seats

“Two great thrones face ten smaller ones.”Stephen Fry, Mythos: The Greek Myths Retold (2017). Copyright © Stephen Fry, 2017. Published by Michael Joseph, an imprint of Penguin Books.

After the great celebration that was the union of Zeus and Hera, the realm of the gods began to fall into a certain rhythm.

Mount Olympus shone with its divine splendor as usual, but even with its radiant heights, air as pure as light itself, marble pillars shimmering with veins of gold, and multitude of clouds rolling lazily beneath the city, the boring day to day crept in.

For many, this was a joy. After the Great War and the Typhon incident, peace was something of a treasure to the godly beings of Olympus. They were the beings descended from the Great Progenitor: Chaos. It was their right to exist how they pleased.

For all of that normal rabble of deities, it was at the Hearth of Olympus where the future of the divine realm would be shaped. The Flame of Hyperion and Chaos sat at the center of this sacred realm, contained within a mighty brazier. This did not stop the unending fire swirling in its warm radiance of everlasting power.

Zeus, Hestia, and Prometheus stood before the hearth.

While Hestia and Prometheus were familiar with the hearth and all that surrounded it, Zeus had been busy as king. He breathed in the twelve radiant thrones that encircled the flames. Their design was perfect yet unclaimed, save for one.

Zeus’ seat was gilded with lightning motifs. He was sure the stone was made from many elements from Gaia’s Earth below as well as the splendid divine rocks of Olympus. After all, Olympus had been made from the coupling of the Primordials Gaia and Ouranos.

The rest of the thrones were sculpted with wonderful craftsmanship. Zeus was all too aware that his sister had helped the Fire Titan. While the seats were bare of any symbols to represent who sat on them, Zeus suspected, with time, that would change.

Prometheus rested a hand on one of the thrones. Zeus could see that the titan’s burned forearms were hidden beneath a white and gold tunic.

“Twelve thrones,” he murmured, as the flames reflected in his thoughtful eyes. “As you said. Just as there were twelve original Titans, there will be Twelve Olympian gods to stand above all, and to share power of the realm.

Zeus nodded in approval. “Just as I asked, Prometheus. Thank you.”

With gratitude and respect given to one as lauded as Prometheus, the Lightning Lord ran a hand through his snowy white hair. “Obviously, there is one for me,” he declared, flashing a smile that carried his pride when the Fire Titan hoped for humility.

“Hera as queen would get one of course,” he said, motioning to the throne by his side. “Hestia you have given much as my sister and flame keeper, so of course you get a seat,” he said with acknowledgement to his eldest sister. “Demeter would not accept a position on Olympus without having a seat of power, and she deserves it ever since the Great War.”

He made sure to incline his head to Hestia, hoping he was ingratiating himself to her. His gift of a throne on Olympus should also, hopefully, placate and sooth Demeter.

“For saving me from Typhon, Hermes, my swift and clever son, deserves a position on a throne. And...” He glanced slowly at the Titan after a thought. “Prometheus, you shall also be given a seat. Without your guidance and counsel, Olympus would not stand as it is.”