Chapter 14: Archon
The cavernous expanse of the chasm echoed with the raucous cheers and roars of monstrous entities, their clamorous jubilance reverberating against the vast walls cloaked in shades of obsidian and deep purple. The air thrummed with palpable excitement, tinged with an undercurrent of malice. Amidst the joy, the distinct sound of hurried slithering resonated over the orderly, bricked pathway, a sinister whisper against the stone.
Accompanying this serpentine movement were three creatures of nightmarish visage. Two empousai, their forms ghastly with wings like tattered shrouds and mouths that spoke of unspeakable thirst, flanked a figure whose chilling presence twisted the air with dread. Lamia, her eyes glowing a venomous green with slits, followed closely, her gaze darting around with a predator's caution.
The central figure, a being of towering rage and formidable power, hissed through a forked tongue, the sound slicing through the surrounding tumult. Her scales glistened under the dim, eerie light.
"Accursssed eidolons, foolish spirits lacking all patience. I ssswear by Tartarus, I shall pluck those sssickly yellow eyes from their sockets mineself!" She seethed with a venom at the failings of the spiritlike monsters.
"Echidna!" One of the empousai called out, her voice a chilling blend of curiosity and caution. "What wouldst thou demand of us now?" Her wings fluttered slightly, betraying a nervousness that belied her fearsome appearance.
The Queen of Monsters' response was a growl, laced with fury. "Sssee to it that those wayward eidolons are punished for their incompetence!" She snapped sharply.
"Await their reformation—ensure it isss painful and remembered."
"At thy wish, m'lady," The winged monsters replied.
With a swift gesture of dismissal, the two empousai broke away from the group, their forms dissolving into the shadows as they set off to carry out her commands. This left Echidna to continue her path towards the looming structure of the colosseum with only Lamia by her side.
"Hath we angered the Allmother? If thee decree it, I shall take thy place in reporting to her." Lamia stated, her voice a hissing whisper that seemed almost concerned.
Her green serpentine eyes scanned the darkness ahead, alert to any threat that might dare approach her or the Queen of Monsters.
Echidna paused, her massive form casting a long shadow on the brick path. "Trouble not thyssself with my well-being, child," she answered, her gaze fixed on the distant silhouette of the nearing colosseum.
"There isss much to be done, and I am not yet finished with this world or itsss would-be heroes."
As they approached the ancient colosseum, the cries of the arena grew louder, a symphony of chaos that awaited its conductor. Echidna's figure, formidable and relentless, moved with a purpose that promised retribution and terror. The stage was set for a spectacle of monstrous ambition, the echoes of which would ripple through the realms of gods and mortals alike.
The gates loomed ominously, their dark expanse swallowing light and hope alike, casting an elongated shadow that seemed to envelop the pair in an inky embrace. The darkness within seemed deeper, more absolute than any other part of the pitifully dreary Tartarus.
"Will thou be well, mistress?" Lamia's voice was a cautious whisper, breaking the heavy silence that fell between the monstrous roars of the crowd.
Echidna, with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of centuries, brushed her daisy white hair back from her face with one clawed hand, her serpentine tail giving a slight rattle, betraying her inner turmoil. She glanced towards the black heart of the colosseum, her black eyes narrowing as she pondered her next move.
"I know not," she finally murmured, a rare admission from the monster queen. Her voice carried a mixture of frustration and contemplation, reflecting the complexity of her thoughts.
"The Allmother shall surely—"
"Do not be wissse, Lamia. Be still with thy hopes; it hath forsssaken the Pit." With a flick of her hand toward Lamia, Echidna issued her next command, her tone sharp and commanding, "Find the Minotaur, ensssure that brute harbors no foolish notions akin to thossse failed eidolons."
Lamia nodded, her expression solemn as she bowed slightly. Her wavy black hair fell forward, momentarily veiling her face as she turned to depart. With swift, silent steps, she moved toward the heart of the colosseum, disappearing into the shadowy maw of the arena.
Left alone, Echidna stood motionless, her gaze lingering on the path Lamia had taken. After a moment's hesitation, her eyes drifted upwards, following the winding stairs that led to the structure's upper echelons. Her expression twisted into a sneer, a visual snarl that marred her otherwise striking features.
With a disgusted grunt, Echidna spat a glob of acidic muck onto the ornate rug that adorned the entrance. The acid sizzled as it ate through the fabric, the destruction a small but satisfying act of contempt against the order imposed by those who dared to think they could control or dictate her actions.
"Queens are not ssservants, be they god or monster alike." She hissed.
The climb to the Royal Suite felt longer than any lair or abyss Echidna had ever traversed, each step weighted with a foreboding that gnawed at her insides. When she finally reached the top, the door to the colosseum's royal box loomed before her as if it were the mouth of some giant beast waiting to swallow her whole.
With a deep breath that hissed through her teeth, she pushed open the doors, her hands almost trembling against the cold metal. The Royal Suite unfolded before her, a vast expanse with a singular throne set against the backdrop of the arena—a throne that seemed to command not just the room but the chaos of the games below.
The walls were lined with armored demons, each one a grotesque sentinel staring down at her with eyes full of dark amusement. Their golden armored forms were rigid, yet the malice in their gazes was fluid and alive, like oil on water.
They were not monsters; Echidna was aware of that much. They were much more like minor gods, demented and crazed in their own ways. The personal servants of the Archon and her most devout acolytes of light.
Ignoring the burning stares, Echidna moved with a deliberate pace towards the throne. Her presence, usually so formidable, was somewhat diminished in the face of such a congregation of malice and mockery.
A giggle snaked its way to her ears from behind.
"Monster…" A demon whispered as if it were a curse meant to wound.
The word, so often worn by Echidna as a title of honor, stung in this den of abominations, turning the air around her thick with contempt.
Her tail, an extension of her rage and defiance, rattled sharply—a clear warning of the storm brewing within her. Each clink of her scales was a chime of rising fury, holding back the floodgates of violence she was so capable of unleashing. Yet, she restrained herself, knowing that any outburst here would only play into the hands of those who wished to see her fall.
Echidna approached the throne, the room seeming to close in around her, the jeers and sneers of the demons blending with the roars from the arena outside. The throne itself was a grotesque masterpiece, carved from bones and obsidian, and draped in tattered fabrics that whispered of ancient and cruel power.
It faced the arena, an overseer's seat that offered a panoramic view of the brutal games that were played inside the colosseum for the joy and entertainment of the wealthy and favorited of the Archon's own interest.
Before Echidna could reach the throne's side, the edge of a sharp silver spear came crashing from the side near the speed of light. Its long and daunting form prevented the Queen of Monsters from approaching further, acting as a barrier between her and the Allmother's seated form.
Echidna hissed at the sudden onslaught, her scales tingling at the sign of danger. "What isss thissss?!"
"The Archon hath no need to sully their hands with thy pestering, Snake," a voice declared from the spear's origin.
"Ssselene…" Echidna spat, recognizing the titaness's soft yet condescending tone.
The spear tilted slightly as the titan took a step closer, her form growing more visible from the shaded corner. Her pale skin and ghostly hair, as white as pearls, grew stark against the fading shadows, making it almost unbelievable that she could be concealed in such a place.
"'Tis Selene, snake. Keep thine fork tongue from disgracing mine name, thou may bringith it shame in thy mouth." Selene spoke candidly, her words growing arrogant.
"Shame? Thou art naught but shame after losssing thy domain," Echidna scoffed.
She flicked at the spear in front of her with disdain, "What isss her name? Artemisss? A young goddess hath taken thy place; the Ancient Laws declared that a godling is a superior deity of the moon! No titan, a godling!"
"I willingly relinquished the moon. The Archon insisted I do so," Selene voiced, her eyes narrowing at Echidna's mocks.
"Isss that so? Did the Allmother insssist? Wasss it she who made that decree?" Echidna's tongue flickered as she gave a small grin, "Or wasss it thy brother?"
Selene grunted, lifting her spear so that the edge just barely scraped against the Queen of Monsters' cheek. Small drops of Echidna's blood crawled down the pristine silver spear.
Pure fury boiled within the dark blue eyes of the titanness, enraged at the dishonor Echidna was showing her brother, Helios. "My brother's debts art as mine own. Tread lightly, or I may see to it that our names do not pass from that foul tongue of thine again."
"Tread lightly? A titan as fallen as thou art hassst no place in the concerns of othersss, much lessss in matters of debt," Echidna challenged, wiping the blood from her cheek.
"Thou wilt understand," Selene regained her composure, the animosity in her eyes paling, replaced with a knowing hubris, "'Tis quite akin to how the failures of the monsters are the failures of their queen, Echidna."
Echidna growled, her nails stretching like daggers. "VERMIN!"
"Snake," Selene verbally parried.
Suddenly, a blinding light flashed, engulfing the entirety of the Royal Suite like a thousand suns, breaking the two adversaries apart.
Dazed and confused, dark spots danced around their vision as both monster and titan turned to the source of the light. The throne.
"Quell thy rage. It hath no place with me, only in the arena where it shall meet its death."
The voice ordered peace; it was smooth and floated an ethereal tenderness like the brush of the finest silk made for Olympus. Yet, it was also dominating; it had an edge that demanded servitude.
"Of course, Your Grace," Selene bowed, retrieving her spear as she stepped back into the shadows, concealing herself in the darkness of a new moon.
At the mention of the arena, Echidna's eyes turned to the scene below. The hydra and an unnaturally large hellhound clashed below, a spectacle of violence and savagery that drew cheers from the demonic crowd; Echidna's own heart seethed with further anger.
The sight of her kind reduced to mere playthings for the amusement of others filled her with a deep, resentful loathing. She loathed the cheers, the bloodlust, the revelry in suffering that filled the colosseum's oppressive air, almost suffocating her with its weight.
It was amidst this turmoil of emotions that the voice from the throne reached out to her, a beacon of unexpected gentleness in the harsh cacophony of Tartarus.
"Echidna~~" The voice called her name with a softness that seemed at odds with the dark realm, soothing the raw edges of her fury with its tender cadence.
"Your Grace…" Echidna responded, her voice a low hiss as she struggled to maintain her composure.
She slithered forward, her movements a blend of reluctance and awe, drawn irresistibly towards the figure shrouded in mystery and power seated upon the throne.
A slender arm reached out from the throne's side, inviting her closer. With each inch Echidna covered, the oppressive atmosphere of the colosseum seemed to lighten, replaced by an inexplicable warmth that radiated from the throne itself.
"Echidna, fear not; speaketh free," the voice encouraged her again, its tone imbued with a comforting resonance that eased the tightness in her chest.
Taking a deep, trembling breath, Echidna bowed her head lower, her eyes fixed on the dark stone beneath her as she prepared to deliver her grave report. "Aye, Your Grace," she murmured, gathering the shards of her courage.
"Good. Now, wouldst thou tell me what bringeth thee to the colosseum?" the voice inquired, each word wrapping around her like a gentle wind, chasing away the cold dread that had settled in her bones.
The care and healing infused in the voice slowed the pounding of her heart, allowing her to collect her thoughts and voice her purpose with a clarity she hadn't felt since entering this dreaded place.
Echidna paused, gathering her thoughts before she spoke, "I bear tidings from the sssurface world."
A heavy silence followed her words, the air thick with anticipation. Uncertain if the silence was an invitation to continue or a pause for consideration, Echidna chose to proceed, her voice steady despite the gravity of her news.
"It pertains to the prophecy Your Grace hath foressseen—about a boy…" Echidna began, her voice faltering slightly under the gaze of the being on the throne.
"A god named Perseusss."
As Echidna uttered the name, an eerie stillness fell over the colosseum. The cacophony of battle and the roars from the crowd halted abruptly as if by some unseen force. In fact, that's exactly what had happened.
A subtle gesture from the figure on the throne had sealed the mouths of all present—beast, demon, and specter alike. The entire assembly was rendered mute, ensuring that Echidna's report could proceed without disturbance.
She hesitated, her forked tongue flicking nervously as she contemplated her next words. Realizing the gravity of the situation, she felt compelled to explain further, to perhaps soften any displeasure her news might invoke.
"Your Grace, the eidolonsss... they sssought battle with the boy, with thisss Perseus," The Queen of Monsters stammered, her voice a mix of fear and pleading.
Echidna's heart pounded quicker within her chest as she felt the full focus of the deity's attention turn upon her. "But I implore thee, have mercy upon them, and upon me. We ssstrive only to fulfill thy divine will. Your Grace, I ssshall—"
"Look at me," the voice commanded, firmer this time, cutting through the heavy silence with its resonant power.
The once kind tone of the voice from the throne now held an edge, a sharpness that made Echidna's scales bristle in apprehension. Slowly, almost painfully, the monster raised her head. As Echidna's gaze met the Allmother's, a gentle smile graced the deity's face.
"Good," the voice resonated warmly yet with an underlying firmness. "Now, I beseech thee, continue."
Trembling slightly, Echidna took in the full visage of the figure seated before her. The source of the voice: a woman. No… a goddess.
A goddess who exuded a celestial beauty that seemed almost otherworldly. Her face, framed by flowing locks of luminous silver hair that danced as if caressed by an unseen breeze, was marked by a delicately hooked nose and long, curling eyelashes that cast faint shadows upon her high, softly blushed cheekbones.
Her eyes, a piercing white, shone with an intensity that felt both awe-inspiring and formidable.
The goddess's attire, a flowing white chiton, draped elegantly around her form that barely covered her breasts and thighs. The fabric, ethereal and almost translucent, clung to her like a second skin, revealing the grace of her divine physique. Her arms, resting lightly in her lap, pushed the soft material down, exposing more of her celestial form.
Echidna's tail rattled slightly as the goddess leaned forward slightly, her gaze locking with the monster's in a way that felt inescapable. The brilliance of her eyes seemed to hold Echidna in place, rooting her to the spot.
Caught in the goddess's petrifying stare, Echidna found herself unable to move, her body rigid as stone, her thoughts racing as she struggled to gather the courage to continue her report. The room around her seemed to fade into insignificance, leaving only the overwhelming presence of the deity who commanded her attention with an almost tangible power.
Tears welled up in Echidna's eyes, each drop etching a path down her monstrous cheeks as she remained locked under the unwavering gaze of the goddess. "Forgive usss…" She managed to murmur out.
The longer she stared into those divine eyes, the clearer the terrifying embodiment of the deity became, an essence that seethed with a silent, overwhelming power.
"Forgive usss… Forgive me. Your Grace, forgive me!"
Abruptly, with a mere snap of her fingers, the goddess unleashed a burst of burning light that severed the rattling end of Echidna's tail. A howl of agony escaped the Queen of Monsters as dark red blood, infused with sparkling motes of gold dust—her life's essence—oozed from the fresh wound.
Struggling to maintain her composure, Echidna's lips quivered violently as she managed to choke out an apology amidst sobs.
"Forgive me, Allmother," she stammered, the title accorded to the formidable goddess before her, a name that evoked reverence and dread.
The slight widening of the Allmother's smile only heightened the air of malevolence that had begun to pervade the space between them. It was as if Echidna's fear served as a dark nourishment to her.
Leaning forward, the goddess's hands were suddenly on Echidna's face, her grip firm and inescapably cold. She pulled the monster queen's face closer to hers until mere inches separated them.
The Archon's voice, previously warm and soothing, now carried a chilling edge, the softness fraying as her words hissed between her perfectly aligned white teeth.
"Thou shalt tell me all that thee knowest, monster."
"What knowest thou of this symbol, old friend?" The predawn light tinged the horizon with hues of pale blue and violet as Perseus, his brow furrowed with confusion, turned to Prometheus.
He was holding a celestial bronze sword in his hand, the one that had been forced through his back by their seemingly human companions. Well, ex-companions now.
Prometheus, his expression grave, took the blade and peered closely at the glowing sigil. The air around them felt heavy, charged with palpable tension as Zoë and Perseus awaited his words. After a moment, the Titan gave a heavy grunt and lowered the blade, his voice deep and resonant. "'Tis celestial bronze…"
"We know 'tis celestial bronze," Zoë, unable to contain her impatience, groaned out, pointing emphatically at the sigil. "But what of this mark?"
Prometheus gave an annoyed nod, understanding her frustration. "Aye, the seal," he continued, his tone turning more serious. "Tis' the seal of the Archon."
"Archon?" Perseus murmured, his voice laced with uncertainty.
He turned the blade over in his hands. "I recall no such being in the annals of those I have met or battled. Is this Archon a mortal king, or perhaps a concept those wispy grey things believe in?"
"Wispy grey things?" Prometheus echoed, completely dazzled by the strange description.
Zoë crossed her arms, then abruptly uncrossed them, waving them expressively. "Eidolons! Disguised as human travelers, they attacked Perseus and mineself!" she complained as she clarified what Perseus meant.
"Attacked?" Prometheus exclaimed before quickly turning to Perseus, "To where art they now? Art thou unhurt, Your Grace?"
"Aye, Prometheus. Both Zoë and mineself art unscathed; 'twas a most easy battle," The god waved his servant off, reassuring the titan that he was fine.
Prometheus's jaw was left open as he restrained himself from continuing to pester his king with his concerns. He glanced to Zoë and then to the blade with the Archon's symbol, questions beginning to circle in his head.
The nymph, noticing that his eyes had glanced over her, couldn't help but take a jab at her rather unfriendly adventuring associate. "Thou art not performing well in thy duty to protect Perseus despite claiming to be his most loyal ally," she critiqued with a genuity she found surprising herself.
"I would surmise that the Titan of Foresight would possess a bit more... I know not, foresight?" She finished.
Grunting a bit, Prometheus nodded as he conceded to her. He was more focused on the questions of why these monsters, especially ones sworn to the Archon, would be hostile toward Perseus. To him, it made little sense as to how the events would have progressed to this point so hastily.
He scratched his eyebrow as he looked toward where Perseus was lounging about, watching the skies as he normally did. "Your Grace, mayhaps I am lacking in understanding. I cannot discern the logic in a band of monsters, feeble as they are, daring to challenge thee."
Perseus turned his head toward the titan, beckoning him to continue. "Thy essence is most clearly beyond that of any minor god! Eidolons are creatures that would not dare to battle beings of such power."
"Unless provoked…" Prometheus added as an afterthought, more to himself than to the two listening to his reasoning.
"Provoked…?" Zoë started, her head slowly turning to meet Perseus' gaze. "Perseus…"
The boy in question shook his head. Her stare grew longer and deeper, almost as if inspecting his very soul, causing him to shake his head more furiously as if to deny it more than he did before.
"Perseus, what in Hades' name hath thou done to draw their ire?!" she demanded, her tone accusatory. "Thou must have stirred some trouble; 'tis in thy nature!"
Laughing, the god ducked as Zoë irritatingly swung at him. "Upon mine honor, I hast not!" he protested, his laughter ringing clear.
He dodged another of Zoë's assaults, retreating a few steps with his hands raised in surrender.
"Zoë!" Perseus giggled out her name.
As her name reached her ears, the memory of Perseus's recent peril flashed through Zoë's mind—the sight of the sword piercing Perseus, the fear that had gripped her. She stopped her attack, her hands dropping to her sides as the moment's gravity returned to her.
"Doth thou yield, then?" Perseus teased, gently nudging her with his foot.
Zoë retreated, turning away from the primordial, crouching down to her knees. Her cheeks flushed with a mix of frustration and embarrassment, pulling at her dark locks as she tried to hide behind them.
She flicked at his foot, then scooped up a handful of grass, tossing it at him in mock defiance.
"Thou would need to be quicker to land a hit on me!" Perseus boasted, plucking grass from the ground and playfully sprinkling it over her head. "Much quicker!"
"And yet, how did those eidolons manage to strike thee, swift as thou art?" Zoë shot back, her voice carrying the fullness of authentic care. "I feared thou wert dead! Thou wert stabbed!"
"STABBED?!" Prometheus shouted, dropping the celestial bronze sword in his large hands.
Perseus paused, his jovial demeanor fading as he touched the spot where the blade had penetrated. Meeting her gaze, his smile returned, broader than before.
"Simply put, I allowed it," he declared nonchalantly, causing both Zoë and Prometheus to reel in astonishment.
"Thou wert WILLINGLY STABBED?!" Prometheus exclaimed, his voice laden with disbelief and worry over his lord's reckless bravery.
Zoë crawled over to him, her emotions twisting between confusion and distress. He allowed himself to be stabbed? It didn't make any sense to her. Why? Why? Why would he do that? Why would he put her through that?
"Why?!" She cried out, albeit louder than she intended to; her voice echoed across the fields, the winds almost perfectly picking up the word to ensure its deliverance.
Perseus sighed, unsure of how to fully explain it. It was a concept that he didn't even know if Prometheus was familiar with. Looking down at his hands, his void-like eyes caught the gleam of his rings.
Biting his lower lip, he confessed. "I needed to ascertain how vulnerable I am."
"Vulnerable?" Zoë asked, her confusion growing at his answer.
"My divinity is far diminished from what it once was eons ago." The primordial raised his hand to reference the jewelry adoring his wrists and fingers, "These rings, once meant to regulate my full might, now block it."
His eyes found Prometheus's, "Thou canst discern, canst thou not? I am not as I once was."
The titan hesitantly nodded, almost as if he was trying not to accept it himself. There was a mutual understanding between the two deities, passing as a ghost since they had not noticed it themselves.
"Aye, Your Grace. Thy divinity hath been reduced to potency akin to those of the Olympian gods." Prometheus observed, a solemn look passing through his orbs.
"I am too feeble to break the seals I hath placed upon myself." Perseus gave a small smile to the titan before catching Zoë's troubled gaze, "And if I cannot break my seals, I am left vulnerable. That is why I allowed that creature to strike me."
Zoë grit her teeth, trying to make sense of what the god in front of her was saying. To her, Perseus remained the same deity she had always known. Power equal to that of the Olympians? That's still a frightening amount of energy, and he was acting like he had been reduced to cattle.
"Thou say is, thee didst seize the opportunity to test thy…" the nymph raised her hand to touch the jewels embedded in Perseus' rings, "divinity… To learn of thy being's form in the present realm?"
Attempting to ease her worries, Perseus nodded. "My capacity to regenerate physical wounds stems from my control over creation—mine creation manipulation—which I've come to realize hath also been diminished to a lesser state."
"So, thou shalt remain unscathed by steel and bronze? Thou wilt not forsake me to the clutches of death?" Zoë sought him for comfort.
Perseus smiled, "Never."
The two shared a close moment. She was a girl plagued with trauma, constantly abandoned by fate's cruelness, and he was a boy, lost to the world with little to rely on and even more to measure up to. There was an invisible sense that bonded them, that spoke of at the end of all things, they would lean on each other.
"It would require far more than steel and bronze to even mar the divinity of His Grace!" Prometheus trumpeted proudly, choosing to ignore his earlier panicked state at the revelations his absence caused. "Not even the Archon herself matches to Lord Perseus at his full might!"
"Prometheus, 'tis the hour thee speakst of this Archon. Who are they, and why would monsters bearing their sigil wage war with me?" Perseus expressed a want for knowledge.
The Titan of Forethought's elated state quickly subsided as he recognized how eager his lord was to make sense of this act of oppression. Groaning, he crossed his arms and legs as his mind whirled through thousands of years for the most crucial pieces about the deity in question.
After a few moments, Prometheus let out a large exhale through his nose; it almost looked like steam had poured from the breath, as if it were an aspect of his effort. "The Archon is more than merely the sigil upon that celestial bronze blade; they art the very embodiment of light."
His harbor grey eyes passed over Zoë, "Thou mayst not know them as the Archon but by another name: The Allmother."
Zoë interjected, her face slightly pale, revealing her familiarity with the term.
"The Allmother is who thee speakest of?" she said, her voice tinged with unease. "She is an all-powerful god of kindness—or so the tales proclaim."
"I hast done nothing to provoke such a being." Perseus looked at her with raised eyebrows, shrugging innocently. "That I am certain of!" he claimed, half-jokingly.
Prometheus released a dry chuckle, a sound laden with eons of knowledge and sorrow. "Close, little Hesperide, yet not wholly so. The Archon, or the Allmother as her faithful do venerate her, is verily puissant—her might exceeding that of gods, titans, and giants alike."
He paused, rubbing the spot on his abdomen where the eagle had once feasted daily on his liver. "Yet, she is no goddess of kindness. She is vengeful, twisted—a deity obsessed with her perverse notion of perfection."
The revelation seemed to hang in the air, heavier than the morning mist. Prometheus's eyes darkened as he continued. "Her followers art zealous and fanatical, seeing her will as the sole path. That sigil," he gestured towards the blade, "beareth the mark of her foul influence and her ancient intent."
"Thou dost name this goddess ancient, yet I cannot place her among the pantheon. She did not feast with my brothers and sisters nor lend aid to the heavens or the earth," Perseus commented.
Perseus's words struck Prometheus with a taste of despair. It dawned on the titan that Perseus truly was utterly unfamiliar with the ancient being. Deep down, all of his knowledge on the Archon began to mold into the tellings that would best charcaterize her for his king.
However, Prometheus dangled on the edge of reluctance. There were less than a handful of times out of the millions of years he'd known Perseus that Prometheus found himself doubting whether or not to disclose any substance of knowledge to him. This was one of them.
"Your Grace…" Prometheus began, averting his gaze.
"Prometheus, fear not; speaketh free," Perseus's voice encouraged him, his tone imbued with a comforting resonance that eased the tightness in the titan's chest. "Look at me."
Slowly, gathering his wits, the Titan of Foresight raised his head. As Prometheus's gaze met Perseus's, a gentle smile graced his face.
Prometheus could not help but shed all of his former resistance as he took in the full visage of the figure seated before him. The source of his loyalties: a boy. No… a god.
A god who exuded a celestial beauty that seemed almost otherworldly. His face, framed by flowing locks of the darkest black that danced as if caressed by an unseen breeze, was marked by a delicately hooked nose and long, curling eyelashes that cast faint shadows upon his high, softly blushed cheekbones.
His eyes, a piercing void, shone with an intensity that felt both awe-inspiring and formidable.
The god's attire, a flowing black chiton, draped elegantly around his form that barely covered his chest. The fabric, ethereal and almost translucent, clung to him like a second skin, revealing the grace of his divine physique. His arms, resting lightly in his lap, pushed the soft material down, exposing more of his celestial form.
Somewhere along his reunion with him, Prometheus had gotten lost in Perseus's form. He was no mere boy; Perseus was his creator; he was a being beyond the worryings and troubles of a titan; they were the tidings of children compared to that of a primordial.
Prometheus cleared his throat, his earlier hesitation replaced with a dutiful devotion. He was ready to unveil the secrets of the primordials. "The Archon is known by many names, some more renowned than others: The Allmother, The Light Bringer, The Gentle Sun."
"But her true origin is far older still, known only to those she hath vanquished." Prometheus took in a deep breath, watching for any reaction beneath Perseus's mask of calm, "She is the mastermind behind the fall of the Golden Era, the slayer of the Titans, and the true lord of Olympus, ruling from the shadows."
"She is the sister of Chaos. The Primordial of Destruction," Prometheus revealed.
The boy's eyes widened.
"She calls herself—Order."
AN
Hey readers! Wow! It's been quite a long time, but I got some spare time and finally got to writing this chapter. I hope it lived up to your expectations! I personally really enjoyed finally introducing Order since they're a character that is pretty integral to the PJOxChaos genre.
I decided to try to focus a bit more on dialogue for this chapter as an alternative to my typical writing style, and it was pretty enjoyable for the most part; I feel like it also helps you guys to understand the structure of the characters and their personalities a bit more too.
As a side note, my favorite part about this chapter was actually Selene! I just recently found out that her name is pronounced "sell-eh-nee" and not "sell-een," so while I was writing, it was a very protruding thought. LOL.
I will try to continue to update this story as much as possible, it's always a welcoming feeling when I know you guys want an update. Please leave your thoughts, comments, criticism, and the like for me to review. Thank you!
- ANAKX
Word Count: 5376