A/N: Chap 49 review responses are in my forums like normal. There are a total of 55 chapters in this story. I will likely post chapters 54 and 55 the same day, since I've never been one to string out stories. Which means Theogony will be done this month. Thank you all for reading.
Chapter Fifty: To Dance on Soft Feet
Within a painting, Taylor walked the streets of her home city.
People went about their ordinary business, mostly oblivious to the soulless eyes of the angel above, the leviathan in the sea, or the titan below. Not all were oblivious, though. She felt a tugging on her power and directed her bifrost eyes to her domain.
Within her old home, she saw Sarah writhing on the floor as her faith took the form of prophecy. Unconsciously Taylor fed power into the girl, giving her the strength to survive what could have killed her. It was Sarah's vision that made Taylor realize their plans would be for naught. The destroyer would not let them pick the battleground.
Marie felt a spike of terror, but Taylor whispered to her. Faith. Courage. Love. Save your sister. Save your brother.
Taylor continued walking, a growing sadness in her heart. She found herself whispering to the spirits of the air, even through the painting, to prepare people for the hardships to come. Some people had a sudden urge to visit family; others to pack emergency bags. Those whose hearts were closed to her ignored the whispering, but many did not.
The sky thundered as a great machine of living steel, shaped vaguely like a dragon, soared over head. In the distance it circled to reduce speed before its swept-back wings lifted and claws protruded for its landing.
Within the enchantment of the painting, it took only a thought for Taylor to stand beside the Dragon 'suit' as its ramp lowered. Her crystalline eyes stung with a need to cry tears that could no longer come; she saw her father again.
Her eyes saw his essence; his power. His time in Africa had elevated him within his domain as nothing else but war could have. The air shimmered around with the promise of just violence. She wanted so very badly to speak to him, but she knew his actions in that moment were too important to interrupt.
Capes came behind him. She saw Narwhal, unchanged since their last visit, and a few others with broken souls that screamed with past crimes. But one cape in particular caught Taylor's eyes because she now wore her divine armor. This was Glaistig Uaine, then, armored as her mother had intended.
The girl's soul was fractured by hate, fear and pain. As much as any parahuman, she had suffered horribly. The helm she wore was in the Celtic style, fashioned from glowing mithril with a rounded dome and cheek plates. Her chest plate was reformed from the original Valkyrie armor, and like her own extended down in mithril mail over her stomach until her battle kilt began. Brigid's magic burned within it. The only reason it was not as powerful as Taylor's was because anything more powerful would have killed the human wearer.
Ahead of them, Kratos called out to a line of terrified-looking ABB gang members. "I will speak with Lung." His Japanese was clunky but understandable. He'd learned it not by divine wisdom, but by hard practice.
After just long enough for the time to be insulting, Lung stepped out of the casino flanked by Oni-Lee and another servant in a trench coat and gas-mask. The god himself wore jeans and a steel dragon- mask, leaving his tattooed torso as bare as Taylor's father.
"Olympian," Lung said. He lifted his nose and sniffed. "You've brought the Beasts back with you. I feel their eyes."
As if pre-planned, the Endbringer sirens began to howl in the distance.
"The time is now, Ryujin," Taylor's father called in a strong, commanding voice. "The gods are assembling. Take your place among us."
Lung sneered behind his mask. "And if I do not?"
"Then you will die like a coward with my axe in your back," Kratos said.
"This guy is a shit negotiator," the new cape muttered in American English.
Lung sniffed. "The wars in Africa have made you stronger, Olympian."
"And raping mortals for money has made you weak," Kratos countered. "You were Ryujin! Dragon King of the sea! Be so again. Send your mortals away and take your place among the godly host. Reclaim that which was Taken from you!"
"You say godly host, Olympian," Lung said. "What gods are you referring to?"
The air shimmered between the two powerful gods. A petite, wizened figure stepped out of it that made Taylor want to laugh with happiness.
"Oh, shut up, ya fuckin' lizard brain!" Sunny spoke with such confidence it left even Lung speechless.
Sunny wore a colorful leather skirt lined in beads, and a Led Zeppelin T-shirt. She barely reached Taylor's chest waist as she walked toward the dragon and his startled army of ABB foot soldiers.
"You speak bold words for so pale a shadow of Amaterasu!" Lung declared.
The ancient Inuit goddess shrugged. "Call heah and have heah give ya protect charms, then, eh? You, goth chick, come here!"
"Who the fuck is that?" the gas-mask cape demanded.
Lung stared down at Sunny for a long moment before turning to his cape. "She is a god, Bakuda, and offers you life."
Bukuda shook her head. "And the fuckers say I'm crazy!"
"Little girl, I was theah when da first Viking's crossed from Greenland," Sunny said. "Ya haven't seen real crazy. Them fuckers were nuts. Now bend over. This heah charm will keep the Simurgh's song from burning your brain. No need to make you worse than yeah already are!"
Somehow the bone charm necklace fit over the parahuman's mask to hang from her neck. Sunny turned and looked up at Lung. "So, yeah and Grumpypants done waving yeah divine dicks around? Yeah ready for a blessin'?"
Lung glared at Kratos, who shrugged. "Ataksak brings joy to the hearts of men, even those who hate joy. I've learned to deal with it."
Before Lung could answer, a familiar white car of indeterminate make and miniscule size came blazing down the street from the direction of the Bay. Its tiny wheels squealed as it rolled to a stop. From behind the right-sided steering wheel unfolded a massive, fiery-headed giant of a man in a glowing golden breastplate, fiery mithril sword, and blue jeans.
"Am I too late for fun?" Aengus of the Tuatha De Danann asked. Suddenly he grinned. "Sunny, you ugly little cunt! Come give us a kiss!"
"Yeah can kiss my ass, you ugly ginger shit!" Regardless of the words, Aengus knelt down and didn't just hug the ancient goddess, but kissed her full on the lips and even grabbed her ass.
And gods above and below, she kissed him right back. At Lung's side, his parahuman servant stared around her in confusion while the Endbringer sirens sent the mortals into a panic. "Are all these people insane?"
Kratos ignored her as he looked to Sunny. "Who else?"
"I think I convinced a sista or two to join," Sunny said. "Gluskab's always up for a fight. Might kill you after, but that'll be fun too, yeah? Hanna, girl, come get your blessing! Anyone don't belong to another god and don't want the Simurgh fuckin' their brains get over here!"
"I'm coming!" The shimmering, seven-foot tall form of Narwhal stepped past Kratos. "Nana, do you know where Taylor is at?"
"Oh, she's around," Sunny said, winking at where Taylor's ephemeral form stood. The diminutive goddess pulled a familiar, rusted artifact from a pouch in her skirt. "Heah, Telos gave me this 'afore she left for the Old World. You go down to the sea and get your ma ready for the fight."
"What is it?" Narhwal asked.
"That is the Lance of Triton," Kratos said. "Forged by Hephaestus himself within the fires of Mount Olympus, and blessed by Poseidon for his son Triton. Aside from the boots I wear and the blades at my waist, it is the last godly artifact of Olympus. It is a worthy gift for Sedna of the Sea."
"Just dip it in the waves," Sunny said. "The ol' gal likes trinkets as much as any girl. Go on now, it's important!"
Rolling her eyes, the head of the Canadian Guild accepted the relic and, borne by her forcefields, flew up into the air toward the sea.
Taylor's father, meanwhile, turned and stared intently at Lung before offering his arm. "Fight with us, brother. And when we are done, you shall have my axe at your side when you reclaim what was taken from you. This is my word."
After the longest time, Lung took the offered hand. "So be it. Bakuda, prepare your bombs. Oni-Lee, we shall have a glorious death! We fight Endbringers today. The rest of you, leave the city. Help with the evacuation. Do not bother with shelter, the city will not survive. Today I shall have my revenge on Leviathan!"
As the two gods spoke, Aengus and his daughter Aideen left Sunny and walked toward Glaistig, resplendent in armor similar to that of the Morrigan, but far more powerful in its enchanting. The Celtic god's divinity shone about him, forcing the other capes in Kratos' retinue back.
"Hello, niece," Aengus said, no longer quite so ebullient. "I am Aengus, son of the Dagda. Brother to Brigid, your mum. This is your cousin, Aideen. In armor, she goes by Morrigan. I am over four thousand years old. I've fought giants and gods, and fallen in battle only once in all those years. But that one fall was terrible enough, because it kept me from bringing you home."
Glaistig stood frozen, wide-eyed and unsure. Taylor could see the girl's soul swirling chaotically as she fought back an instinct to lash out. "Why are you here?"
"We're here for you, ya daft cunt," Aideen said.
Taylor bit back a smile and turned her attention elsewhere. She was not part of the Tuathé dé, even if she was indebted to its last goddess. This conversation was not for her.
With a thought, she stood on the beach near the boardwalk as Narwhal floated down on her forcefields. She clutched the ancient Olympian relic in her hand as she awkwardly approached the water. She knelt down as the iron-grey waves lapped at her.
"Mom, I know we haven't talked in like…ever."
The older woman blew a strand of white hair from her eyes. "I've never prayed to you because you just threw me away. I never had anything to show for you being my mother but this hair, and the other kids just called me a witch and beat me up. But Telos and Nana both said you wanted to be a part of this fight. I doubt it's because you care about us. No, it's probably because Leviathan killed a dolphin or something."
In that instant, Taylor wanted to hug the taller woman. She could see the bitterness and loneliness within her heart and ached for her. Narwhal bowed her head as the waves rose around her. "If not for me; if not for Telos—if not for your people? Then fight for this."
Even through the painting, Taylor could sense the goddess's approach. The air took on a briny smell, like rot and fish. Narwhal didn't notice. She dipped the lance into the water and gasped as it transformed instantly to its full, divine glory.
"Wow."
Abruptly, the lance shot out of her hand, jerked by a force she couldn't have stopped even with her strongest forcefields. Taylor stood just behind her as a figure appeared, kneeling atop the water. There was a similarity there, Taylor thought, between Sedna and Ataksak. Both bore tribal tattoos. The anthropomorphized vision of Sedna wore a sealskin coat lined in polar bear fir, but her eyes were a deep, solid ocean blue. Her face looked young—frozen at the time of her mortal death and harsh apotheosis.
"Mom?" Narwhal whispered.
The kneeling goddess raised a hand, and both Taylor and Narwhal saw that the hand held no fingers. Instead, the water itself formed digits that left a trail of moisture as she caressed Narwhal's cheek. In her other fingerless hand, the Lance of Triton took on a brilliant, golden glow. Even out of the water of the ocean, within the hands of an ocean god it retained its power.
Sedna, goddess of the sea, opened her mouth to speak. Narwhal leaned forward, a hungry anticipation in her face. Taylor could see how the woman's soul yearned for some acknowledgement from her divine mother.
"You need to get a man and give me grandchildren," the Inuit Goddess of the Sea said, before melting away back into the water. She took the lance with her, leaving Narwhal squatting in the water facing the dishonestly calm waters of the Bay and Taylor hovering just behind her.
"Really, mom?" Narwhal whined. "Really? If you wanted grandchildren, why did you make me seven fucking feet tall!"
~~Theogony~~
~~Theogony~~
Heroes and gods gathered at an old office building near the PRT. Strider and other teleporters brought them in by ones, twos or dozens. Within the framework of the painting, Taylor saw Alexandria arrive surrounded by a cadre of capes from Los Angeles. Eidolon arrived in a sparkling cloud of his own power, carrying a dozen capes of his own from Houston.
Legend arrived with the same team that attacked Taylor in New York, brought by Strider himself.
These were among the heroes that came. But to Taylor's eyes, the gods took prominence. Her father strode into the building flanked by Ryujin of Kyushu and Aengus of the Tuatha Dé. With Angus came his daughter and niece, resplendent in reforged Valkyrie armor.
Sunny ambled in, barely noticed by any. But the two with her made Taylor notice. The first was a great bear of a man with skin the color of oak and muscles just as hard. He wore his black hair long and spun into a thick, intricate braid lined with beads and carved bone. He wore a leather vest over an otherwise bare chest, and leather pants that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else.
He turned and saw her with eyes the color of the rich, life-giving earth, perceiving her presence through the painting. Gluskab am I! First man. By my hand did men of this nation learn the hunt. By my hand did the spirits get laid low. By my hand was Freya of Asgard welcomed to these shores. By my will did my people accept her. For her memory, I stand now at your side.
Taylor's heart surged as she bowed respectfully to him.
Opposite Gluskab, Taylor felt another divine entity. She turned and saw a thick-bodied woman in a bright blue velvet blouse and a white cotton skirt moving about the startled capes. She appeared to be an old woman one second, and then a thin, svelte figure the next. The color of her velvet blouse changed even as Taylor watched her handing out turquoise necklaces to confused capes.
She turned a sparkling smile to Taylor, and just like Gluskab her divinity spoke of its own. Asdzą́ą́ Nádleehé am I, Changing Woman! From my skin and my mountain soil bundle I formed the first Diné. By my hand came the sky and earth of my people's lands. I stand.
Again, Taylor bowed.
There were others—minor deities who existed only as spirits that darted among the heroes. They granted courage or determination. Strength or speed. She saw them all; and a small part of her ached for their low number. Once, she knew, the gods and spirits numbered as grains of sand on the beach outside their walls. But Scion's twisted hand destroyed the weaker gods even faster than the major deities. Only those who could hide were spared.
Alexandria and Legend walked to the front of the room to speak. Taylor hesitated until she felt a warm, familiar glow beside her. It felt almost like the dawn greeting her. She turned and saw Sunny by her side.
"No point in hiding, girly child," the ancient Inuit goddess said softly. "Not no more. Take yeah place, Telos. Take your place at the front of the room. It's time."
The loud buzz of worried, excited conversation rendered her words inaudible to everyone else but Taylor. Through the painting, she turned and studied her godmother. You've done so much for me. I will never forget you.
"'Course not. No one forgets me, less I want'em too."
At the older god's urging, Taylor began pushing her power into the painting just as Brigid showed her. The painting accepted the power and reflected it as only a divine instrument could. In that moment, space folded.
Taylor moved through the painting. She felt the spirits of the air rejoice at her arrival, so different than the ancient spirits of Tír Óg Nog. She felt the burning, empty gaze of the Simurgh descending above, and the hungry glares of Leviathan and Behemoth below.
And in that instant, she became aware of the fact that all conversation in the room ceased. She could feel the gaze of heroes and gods alike, but her own gaze instantly sought out one face above all.
He looked good. The beard just seemed right on him. Without it, he looked like a shaved bear. His eyes, normally green, now had a ring of orange fire as the weight of his recharged divinity shone through. Even through the enchantments of the painting, she could feel the heat of him.
"I missed you, Daddy," she whispered.
"And I, you, child," Kratos said as he crossed the room. Capes melted out of his way. He paused when he saw the sword. "Haevetien? The sword was shattered. How?"
"I travelled to Muspelheim and defeated Sinmara. Brigid reforged them from the last embers of Muspelheim."
He met her gaze squarely. "And you needed Mimir's eyes to find your way."
She nodded. "And Brigid's armor to cloak me. I wish we had more time. There's so much I want to tell you."
A powerful, calloused hand rose to cup her cheek. She wasn't taller than he was; but only then did she realize that she was floating. That the spirits of the air and earth held her aloft a foot from the ground. He gazed into her eyes as she held the hand in her own.
"When the battle is won, we will have eternity," Kratos said. "For now, know that you are everything your mother and I hoped for. Take your place, Telos of America."
She nodded before turning to face the front of the room.
The Triumvirate stood watching the exchange in silence. Legend turned his gaze away from hers instantly. Eidolon stiffened as if in rage; Alexandria stood transfixed as her Thinker power tried to unravel Taylor's presence.
She walked forward on the air. Her bare feet made the space below her spark with each step. She paused near the podium where the three leaders of the Protectorate stood. "You found what you needed?" Alexandria asked. Her gaze slid from Taylor's, focusing on a point just past her face.
"I did." She turned to face the confused, worried or stunned capes. She spotted the many gods and spirits among them; the demigods perverted from their original roles, and those who assumed them now despite that.
"I am Telos," she said. The spirits carried her words not just across the room; at her will they carried her words across the whole city. "I am the Goddess of Hope. This is not an Endbringer battle. This is Ragnorok. It is Judgement Day. Today we face all three Endbringers; and when they have fallen, we face the Destroyer of Worlds that spawned them.
"From the moment the first cape showed himself, Earth was in danger. Powers are not blessings—they are curses meant to weaken and destroy. They come from a being spawned in the dark chaos beyond and before existence. The Endbringers came to foment violence and despair, so more shards of this dragon of the void could spread his poison. It was against this fate that I was brought into the world. It was to fight the Endbringer and the Destroyer of Worlds that my mother gave her life; that I sought out my sword and armor. That day has come."
She turned her gaze to Lung. "Ryujin, Dragon King, to you falls Leviathan. Know that Sedna of the Sea will join your fight. She carries the Lance of Triton, forged by Hephaestus and blessed by Poseidon himself. Don't piss her off."
"She needs to stay out my way, then," Lung declared.
She turned to her father. "Kratos of Sparta…father. To you, Aengus and Gluskab fall Behemoth. The rest of you divide how best you think you can fight. The most powerful brutes will join against Behemoth. The most powerful blasters against Leviathan."
"And who will join you against the Simurgh?" Alexandria asked from behind her.
Taylor knew the question was for everyone else as well as Taylor. "If I can't kill a single Endbringer by myself, then what hope do I have against the Destroyer of Worlds?"
She looked out across the floor. "Today is like no fight any of you have ever had. For the Gods themselves walk among you. Demigods armed with divine weapons fight in your midst. Goddesses grant you blessings to give you strength and courage. Be strong, because the fate not just of this city, but the world rests on our shoulders."
Taylor turned then to Alexandria. "Thank you for your help."
She drifted to one side to let the more experienced cape speak.
Alexandria clapped her hands. "Everyone should have an armband. Communication is coordinated by Dragon with priority determined by experience and what you need. If you don't have a brute or blaster power, then you're on cape transport. Everyone outside, it's about to get…
The building around them exploded. Heroes or not, capes screamed as the ceiling flew up into the air over their heads. A few capes went flying up as well, but only those who had not received the blessings of the two Native American goddesses who walked among them.
Taylor looked up and with her bifrost eyes pierced the heavy cloud of debris that orbited around their attacker. The Simurgh gazed down directly at her, her mouth twisted in a rictus grimace as she screamed down at her.
Taylor drew her sword; the earth trembled as a deep, spiritual clang rang through the air at its unsheathing. With a cry as old as war itself, the Goddess of Hope launched herself into battle.