The cave wasn't cosy, but it was dark and mysterious, like a hidden secret buried deep underground. Inside its depths, the air was heavy with the smell of old earth and dampness, wrapping around like a forgotten memory. Stalactites hung from the ceiling like ancient guardians, their drips echoing softly in the silence. Below, small puddles shimmered faintly. Deeper into the cave, the air grew mustier, as if infused with the essence of time. It seemed to stretch endlessly, promising untold secrets of its darkness. A silken mist hovered in the shadows, alive with the caves whispers. The faint sound of a distant dog barking drifted in from the outside world, a reminder that beyond this subterranean sanctuary, life continued to go on. At the heart of the cave, a river flowed, black as night and murky. It was a sad testament to human neglect, carrying the debris of forgotten dreams. Its banks, lined with dark sand, appeared to absorb the river's sorrow.
Finally, on the banks of the river stood four goddesses. The first, tall with flowing dark hair and obsidian eyes, radiated a fierce aura. She wore night-like robes and a silver necklace. Behind her, three elder goddesses, silver-haired and wise, bore the marks of aeons in their eyes.
The goddess turned her attention to them, her voice soft but commanding.
"Is it done?" she asked. The three goddesses paused, thinking for a moment.
"It was done ages ago," the first said.
"But we still had to wait, to make sure the prophecy would be carried out to its last word," the second finished for her. The goddess nodded solemnly.
"Good," she said. "I have been waiting too long for this." The other goddess chuckled.
"Sister, your thirst for vengeance blinds you." she said with a smirk. "You see nothing else."
"What of it?" the taller one glared. "I have waited six years for this moment, all because you held me back."
"We did," the three said in union. "And we would do it again. Our prophecies outweigh your desires for revenge." The other goddess chuckled.
"Oh you Fates, always placing your visions above all, always thinking your prophecies are above all of us." The Fates shrugged indifferently.
"Indeed. Without us, mortals and gods alike would lose their way. We maintain the balance between good and evil, more crucial than your oaths, Styx."
The taller goddess, Styx, fixed them with a piercing gaze. She couldn't help but think how full of themselves the Fates were. Styx wasn't an important goddess, but she certainly wasn't irrelevant, especially to all of the world's Oathbreakers. It disgusted her how easily someone could swear on her river… on her name, only to break their vow as if it was worth nothing.
Turning her back on the Fates, Styx's eyes fell upon the turbulent waters of her river. This wasn't just a stream; it was the essence of her power… the power to punish all Oathbreakers. A power the Fates had restrained, claiming it would disrupt the overworld battles. But now, both the Titanomachy and Gigantomachy were history, and nothing would hold back Styx's vengeance any longer.
"What are you going to do?" one of the Fates asked. Styx turned to them, a dark smile creeping across her face.
"I shall do what I've been long denied," she replied with a chilling calm. "What I should've done in the first place. I'll resurrect the punishment they once feared." The Fates sighed, a gesture of disappointment, or perhaps it was just pity.
"Banishment," they muttered. Styx nodded, her eyes alight with a dark eagerness.
"Yes, my dear sisters. A decade of exile. Immortals have taken liberties, lying on my river, forgetting who I am. Now, they'll remember the price of their deceit. Let's see who dares break an oath of my river after this." The eldest Fate sighed.
"Haven't they already been punished enough?" Styx clicked her tongue in disdain.
"Not nearly. The boy faced his fate, but the gods... they've escaped justice. My leniency ends now. They will face my wrath, and they'll learn the true power of Styx."
The Fates just stared at her, their eyes boring into Styx's soul. She frowned, a flicker of doubt in her eyes.
"You… you know the outcome of this already, don't you?" Their expressions remained stoic.
"We have an idea," the youngest one said slowly. "When the gods find out what you did, a civil war is inevitable. You know that already. In fact, I know you are probably counting on it." Styx didn't bother to deny it. "But in the end, there will be one person left at the top." Styx's gaze faltered.
"And who is it?" she asked. "It's the boy, isn't it?" Their silent nod was all the confirmation she needed.
"Farewell, sister," the youngest one said. "May you find peace in your actions." All three Fates turned around, walking away from her into the thick mist of the Underworld.
Styx watched them vanish into the mist. Talking to the Fates, the wisest gods she knew, made her slightly doubt her actions, but she shrugged it off. It was too late to back out now.
"Your time is up, Zeus and Poseidon," Styx whispered into the cavern's echoes. "You broke oaths in my name for the final time." The goddess stood up straight, staring at her river.
"Hear me, Oathbreakers!" she yelled above the roar of her river, a sinister smile growing on her lips. "This is my retribution! And when it's over, let this be a lesson to all—no oath on the river shall be broken so easily again."
With a bittersweet laugh, Styx snapped her fingers, the sound resonating throughout the cave.
And so, the banishment began.
"One hundred drachmas she's calling a meeting because Zeus decided to go to a mortal bar," Hermes whispered in his ear.
"Hmm," Apollo mused. "Nah, I think it's something else." Hermes scoffed.
"This is Hera. When is it ever 'something else?'"
"Well there was that time last decade-"
"Last decade?" Hermes snorted. "Is that what you're going with? Are you making the bet then or not?" Apollo thought for a moment before responding.
"Deal," he agreed, shaking hands with Hermes to seal it. Apollo settled back into his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. Despite Hera's fondness for dramatics, the fact that she wasn't the first one here, already ranting about Zeus' antics, made him disagree with Hermes.
Bored, Apollo's gaze drifted across the room, observing the other gods and goddesses as they took their seats. He saw Hephaestus saunter in, giving him a quick nod of acknowledgment. Naturally, Apollo returned the gesture. Dionysus, slouched in his seat, definitely did not want to be here. He never liked council meetings, but one look and Apollo knew he was in a bad mood. At the same time, on the complete other side of the throne room, Athena and Demeter were engaged in quiet conversation, their tones low and serious.
All of a sudden, the doors opened again, and Artemis strode in, her presence commanding. Apollo's face lit up at the sight of his sister.
"Little sis!" he exclaimed, rising from his seat. He moved towards her, arms open for an embrace. Artemis, however, fixed him with a cool gaze, sidestepping his advance with a speed that left Apollo off-balance. Regaining his footing, he turned to face her with a grin.
"How have you been?" he asked.
"Good," she replied tersely.
"Aww, come on, that's all you're going to say to me? I haven't seen you in ages," Apollo prodded, trying to lighten the mood. Artemis, however, raised an eyebrow, sighing deeply.
"You saw me three days ago, Apollo. Remember? That time you were 'just passing by' the hunt?"
He shrugged nonchalantly.
"Can you really blame me? I wanted to check in on my favourite sister."
"She's your only sister," Hermes snickered. Apollo raised an eyebrow.
"Well that depends on how specific you want to be. I mean she is my only sister, sister, but I have plenty of half-sisters."
Rolling her eyes, Artemis fixed Apollo with a look that mixed annoyance and boredom.
"Go back to your seat, Apollo. Find someone else to annoy." Apollo gave her a mock salute, before leaning back in his chair and giving Hermes a secret fist bump. From then on, it didn't take long for the remaining gods to come. They each sat in their respective thrones, filling up the room, until only three thrones remained empty: Zeus's throne, Poseidon's throne, and Hera's throne. Once everyone was sat down and equally confused as to why they were there, Hera revealed herself.
Apollo had to give her credit for dramatics. Like, they'd all heard their fair share of 'Zeus in the mortal world' stories from her, but this was over the top, and that was coming from Apollo. Throwing the doors open, Hera ran into the throne room, her eyes wide. Immediately, a hush fell over the council, some stifling laughs while others genuinely concerned.
"Is everything okay?" Demeter was the first to ask, giving her sister a wary expression. Hera's chest heaved with a sense of franticness, her usually impeccable poise shattered by something slightly urgent.
"It's Zeus," she gasped, words tumbling out. "He's-"
Before she could spiral further, Aphrodite rose from her seat, sauntering over to Hera.
"Darling, breathe," Aphrodite cooed, a hint of charmspeak in her voice that made Hermes take in a few lungfuls of air. With a gentle, albeit somewhat disinterested, touch on Hera's shoulder, she guided the flustered goddess back to her throne.
"Sit," she said. "We can't have you panicking over every little antic Zeus decides to pull in the mortal realm, can we? Even if he is your husband," Aphrodite added under her breath. Nodding, Hera slowly sat down, and Aphrodite took her own seat, but not before casting a subtle wink at Ares, who acknowledged it with a smug, knowing smirk, as if the two were having an inside joke.
"So what's on today's episode of Hera's drama?" Hephaestus yawned. Even now, the blacksmith held a strong grudge against his mother. Apollo couldn't really blame him, but it's been millennia! You'd think he'd let it go by now…
Hera straightened up, her expression more composed than before.
"I can't find Zeus," she announced. Immediately, Ares groaned, rubbing a hand over his face in exasperation.
"Not again," he muttered, and most of the other gods, too, grumbled. Hermes, however, nudged the sun god with a grin that was all too knowing. Apollo responded with a glare. He'd honestly thought this was gonna be something else.
"Hera," Aphrodite chimed in with a sigh. "We've talked about this before. The Olympian council is not a place for you to vent about whatever issues you have with Zeus."
"No, you don't understand," Hera interrupted. "It's been three months, and I literally cannot find Zeus anywhere."
Aphrodite seemed ready to dish out a lecture, but Demeter was first.
"What do you mean, you can't find him?" she frowned, a tinge of concern in her voice.
"I mean he has disappeared off the face of the Earth. He's not on Olympus, he's not in the mortal world, he's not in the sky, and he's not in the underworld. From what I've gathered, he's not in Tartarus either. At first, I thought he might just be busy in the mortal world, but it's been three months now, and I've had no contact from or about him. Normally, I wouldn't care too much, but after the recent wars we've had, I'm worried something has happened to him."
A ripple of unease flowed through the room as everyone grappled with the situation. A missing Zeus, albeit recent, wasn't exactly good news.
"Wait," Hera frowned as her gaze swept across the room. "Where's Poseidon?" The council exchanged looks, but all she received was a series of shrugs.
"How is it that two of the Big Three have disappeared?" Hera asked, her voice sharp. "Who even has those motives? It can't be the giants; it can't be the Titans. It can only be a god. But, which god hates both Poseidon and Zeus?"
Everyone seemed to reach the conclusion at the same time.
"Hades?" Ares suggested. "I mean he's never liked Olympus, especially after being banished from it." Everyone paused, digesting the information. They'd gone from a conversation about Zeus leaving Hera, to the possibility of something even more drastic.
"Call him," Hera decided. Artemis was the first to object.
"Hades is only invited once a year to Olympus, during the Winter Solstice, and that's a rule we've all held for a long time. The last time we broke it was after Kronos and Typhon had been killed. Are we really having such a moment now? Zeus has only been gone for three months, and while that isn't common, I'm sure he's done it before."
"Be it so, little sister," Apollo countered, "we need answers. We gotta find out ASAP if we're on the brink of a third war." Artemis scoffed at his flair for the dramatic, but a few other gods seemed to lean forwards, their expressions hardening.
"Speaking of which," Athena began. "Apollo. Have you heard anything from any of the Oracles?"
The sun god shook his head, and everyone let out a sigh of disappointment.
"I thought you'd gotten control over them?" Athena asked. "With Python defeated, there's nothing standing between you and the oracles, is there?"
"Man, I don't know," Apollo shrugged. "The Oracle isn't Oracle-ing."
"Is that even a word?" Hermes muttered next to him. Apollo just shrugged. Who was he to argue about the whims of English?
"Back to the topic at hand," Artemis interjected. "We shouldn't jump to conclusions so fast. Hades hasn't been causing any trouble since the Titan War, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. We should explore other theories first, and only if need be, we can visit Hades in his domain." The suggestion silenced the room; no one was eager to travel to the Underworld.
"Well, what are the alternatives?" Hera asked. "Who else can we talk to?" All eyes turned to Athena, the brains of the council, and she rubbed her chin thoughtfully, though no obvious solution came.
"Why don't we ask the Fates?" a voice asked near the back of the throne rooms. Everyone whipped their heads around, finding Dionysus stifling a yawn. His response drew a few surprised and somewhat incredulous looks. Even Apollo was shocked.
"What?" he asked lazily. The council immediately straightened up.
"Honestly, I forgot you existed in these meetings," Ares quipped. Dionysus leaned back, a sigh escaping him.
"I prefer to pretend I don't exist in them either. Always useless politics." Apollo couldn't help but agree with him. Rarely, if ever, did something good come out of a council meeting.
"Dionysus seems to have stumbled upon a good idea," Athena acknowledged, nodding in agreement with his suggestion. " The Fates may have some knowledge of what's going on. While they're usually secretive, they may be of help in this situation. It would certainly be wise to consult with them before we even consider talking to Hades."
"What Athena is trying to say," Apollo snickered, "is that Dionysus beat her to an idea." His comment earned him a sharp glare from Athena, while Artemis simply rolled her eyes at her brother's antics. Unperturbed, Apollo flashes his sister a grin.
Athena, choosing to ignore Apollo's teasing, turned her attention back to the matter at hand.
"I suggest you summon the Fates," she told Hera. "It's Zeus who is missing, after all."
"Why me?" Hera protests, though her tone carries a hint of resignation.
"Because it's your husband they're trying to find. And besides, you command a certain... respect that might… encourage their cooperation."
"It's your father as well," Hera muttered under her breath.
After a moment's hesitation, Hera conceded, her voice reluctantly summoning the ancient powers. The air in the throne room shifted as all the gods were now sitting, quite literally, on the edges of their seats, Apollo included. The Fates freaked him out! And then, as suddenly as a storm breaks, the Moirai appeared before them, their presence commanding immediate silence from the council.
The three ancient sisters slowly glanced around the room, their eyes lingering on the empty thrones of Zeus and Poseidon. "Why have we been summoned?" the Fates asked. "We have much more important things to attend to than an Olympian council meeting." Their voices were raspy with a cold edge.
"I'm sorry," Hera apologies, "but we have an issue." The tallest Fate seemed to think
"Hello, Hera," they said in unison. Hera, visibly nervous in their presence, managed a strained, "Hello."
for a moment, before eventually asking, "Would this be to do with the missing gods you have?"
To say the council was surprised would be an understatement, but then again they were the Fates.
"How do you know?" Hera asked.
"We had a feeling we'd be summoned about them soon enough," came the cryptic reply.
"Do you know where they are?" Hera pressed.
"Yes," the Fates answered simply, causing a collective sigh of relief to sweep through the room.
"Great. Can you tell us where they are?" Hera asked, hope lighting her features. The Fates paused for a moment, their expressions turning grave.
"No."
"No?" Hera echoed, her relief quickly turning to confusion. "What do you mean, no?"
"Someone is furious at them, and is punishing them. Even if we told you, there's little you could do," they explained, their words sending a chill down Apollo's spine.
"What does that mean?" Hera demanded, and Apollo winced at her tone. "Why can't we do anything?"
"Because they're breathless," the youngest Fate replied calmly. A ripple of confusion passed through the throne room as Apollo pondered over those words. Breathless? What did that mean? Athena, however, who had been silent, suddenly gasped, drawing all eyes to her.
"Did… Did they break an oath on the Styx?" she asked. The Fates paused, a heavy silence filling the room before they eventually nodded.
Now, Apollo was no expert on oaths, but he knew that breaking an oath on the Styx had severe consequences. Usually, these days, she let gods off a little easily, but from what he'd heard, in the olden days, she'd be merciless.
"But which oath?" Aphrodite interjected. "And how did they both break it at such a similar time?"
"It's the same oath they broke," the Fates revealed, "and they both broke it ages ago. Zeus actually broke it twice. Styx held back until now. Now, she says they must suffer the consequences."
"And how long will that be?" Artemis asked. "We're a divine council, and Zeus is our leader, even if he is a little bad at times."
"Until Styx says so," was the Fates' solemn reply.
"Can't we at least know which oath it was they broke?" Aphrodite pressed. The Fates, their expressions unreadable, paused as if considering the request. Then, with a gravity that felt like the closing of a book, they replied, "You already know." Before any further questions could be raised, they disappeared in a flash, leaving the council in stunned silence.
"Well, that's just great," Apollo muttered, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
"Which oath did they break, though?" Artemis frowned. "They said we already knew…"
"I know which it is," Athena sighed. "It's the only oath Zeus broke twice, Poseidon broke once, and Hades, true to his word, never broke… The oath to never have a half-blood child.
The council fell into a heavy silence as the implications of Athena's words sank in. All of a sudden, the severity of the situation sunk in. Now, his bet with Hermes didn't even seem like something to boast about. He would've much rather been wrong than have to deal with this situation. They were without a king, without a sky god, and without a sea god. And this led to an inevitable question that loomed over them like a thundercloud.
"So, who's going to be king?" Ares said, breaking the silence.
"Wait!" Hera ordered, admonishing him. "We should first try finding Poseidon and Zeus before jumping into big decisions.
Ares was unyielding. "The Fates said it's pointless. You remember how harsh Styx was with her oaths. She's angry, and unless you all want to launch a war against Styx, we're not getting to them anytime soon." His gaze swept across the room, challenging, yet no one spoke up. The prospect of waging war against such a goddess was unthinkable.
"See? You're all just delaying the inevitable. We can't have a council without a leader. Therefore, being the god of war, I declare myself the king of Olympus," Ares announced, his voice ringing with boldness.
That was it. Ares's declaration sparked an immediate uproar.
"I should lead! My wisdom surpassed all!" Athena's voice cut through the chaos.
"And what of Zeus's consort?" Hera snapped, with a glare that could freeze the sun. "Do I not stand as his equal in rulership? If anything, I should be made Queen of Olympus, and I should choose the replacements for Zeus and Poseidon."
The voices overlapped, each deity presenting their claim, their arguments fuelled by centuries of rivalry, pride, and power. Even Artemis seemed to join in the shouting match.
Amidst the turmoil, only Apollo remained seated, lost in his musings. He understood what the others did not—or perhaps, chose to ignore. No god or goddess among them was fit to lead. The qualities required of a true leader were not power or wisdom or beauty alone but the ability to unite, to inspire loyalty beyond fear or obligation, and to see beyond one's own immortality to the broader scope of what was best for all.
Apollo knew the only person capable of being a good leader. This person is a natural leader, and Apollo knew he'd be the best, because he's the only person in the history of people to decline godhood, understanding the value of mortality. This was a demigod who had proven himself time and again in the face of insurmountable odds. This was a natural leader, one who led not from a throne but from the front lines, who inspired not through fear but through courage, loyalty, and an unwavering sense of justice.
Convincing the council to entertain the notion of a mortal leader would by far be one of Apollo's greatest challenges yet, but he knew this was right. Somehow, he knew this was meant to be. Being mortal while fighting Python had helped him develop many skills, but it had also laid bare his flaws—and, by extension, the flaws in all of them as immortals. They were detached, often lost in their own narratives and the perpetuation of their power, unable to see the changing currents of the world they sought to govern. Not to mention the biggest problem: their pride. The pride of the gods was as ancient as the stars themselves, but with the right words, the right persuasion, he could make them see.
If somehow, Apollo could convince this person to rule the council, and if, somehow, Apollo could convince the council to take him on, they'd be in good hands, and maybe, just maybe, they'd be able to thrive like they used to in the old days. Perhaps, with his guidance, Olympus could become greater than before.
The only issue was Percy Jackson would never, ever agree to rule Olympus… Well, unless he was somehow swayed.
"I think it's time to visit Camp Half Blood," Apollo muttered to himself, as the council continued to deteriorate into chaos.
Well this is the first chapter in my book, Oathbreaker, and I really hope you enjoyed it! This is gonna be a short-ish book (I'm thinking 20ish chapters), and it's something I've never seen before. In Greek Mythology, the punishment for breaking an oath on the Styx was being "breathless" for a year, and then exiled for another nine years. Poseidon and Zeus had little consequences for breaking an oath, so I decided to write something where they were punished more severely.
Also, for anyone wondering, Trials of Apollo did happen, BUT it's a different version. Picture Trials of Apollo without all the unnecessary deaths and stuff. The idea was Apollo was made mortal to defeat Python, and in doing so, he realised his flaws, and the flaws in immortality, and believes no immortal is fit to run the council. Therefore, he thinks Percy is the best fit.
Other than that, hope you enjoyed the chapter! I do hope on updating soon, so definitely drop a follow, and please leave a review : )