Acacia

Chapter 8

High above the clouds, where the sun kissed the peaks of Mount Olympus, the gods convened in their resplendent hall of marble and gold. Zeus, his thunderbolt crackling with authority, presided over a raucous debate between Athena and Ares about the fate of humanity, while Apollo strummed his lyre, weaving melodies that floated through the air like the scent of ambrosia. Below, mortal lives unfolded in a tapestry of struggles and triumphs, their whispered prayers rising like incense, reaching the divine ears of those who sat in judgment. Little did they know, a new threat loomed on the horizon, one that would shake the very foundations of Olympus and challenge the immortals' timeless reign. As Sebastian flicked his wrist to reveal the struggles of the four realms, where time itself was fracturing, an eerie silence filled the hall.

Sebastian gazed into the swirling abyss of Tartaros, which was opened below him, where shadows whispered secrets of the universe, and his voice echoed like a distant thunder. "Time," he began, his tone imbued with the weight of eternity, "is not a singular path but a fractured tapestry, woven from the choices of mortals and the whims of the gods. Each decision sends ripples through the fabric of existence, creating divergent threads that spiral into alternate realities. In my realm, I shepherd the souls caught in these fractures, their lives echoing through the ages like an enchanting melody that sometimes swells into discord. The past, present, and future are merely illusions, yet every moment holds the power to reshape the very essence of what is to come. "Somehow," he continued. "This delicate balance has been changed in a way that has torn the fabric the Fates have weaved."

"Perhaps it is a fluke? Magic perhaps?" Hermes suggested. Sebastian shook his head.

"The only one to have the power to open a portal to the Underworld are myself and Cerberus." He explained. "And I am pretty sure I have not opened any portals. I've been... a bit busy."

"Making love to mortals," Aphrodite chuckled. Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"We've all been there, brother." Zeus winked at him, a smirk crossed his face. Hera's eyes darkened.

"Can we have a serious discussion please?" Sebastian asked. He was reminded why he hasn't come back to Olympus in centuries.

As the gathering of deities deepened in tension, Sebastian leaned forward, his shadows swirling with unease. Demeter's resolute denial of the Fates' involvement resonated with the assembly. Apollo vehemently defended his innocence, but uncertainty loomed as he acknowledged the potential influence of his followers-those who might seek power through foresight. Hestia's calm demeanor contrasted with Hera's fury, and Zeus's brow furrowed as the implications of Apollo's proclamations sank in, particularly for Eros, whose expression paled at the revelation that the fate of Athens might have been altered by a careless firing of arrows. The gathering simultaneously realized the fragile threads of destiny were now in peril, and the wary resolve formed among the gods to uncover the origins of this disruption before chaos unraveled their worlds.

"T-t-the son?" Eros stuttered. "Not the father?" Apollo's face darkened. His once bright blue eyes swirled red with anger as Eros spoke. "W-what would happen if... by chance... an arrow of peace had been sent to the father?" Eros' voice cracked in worry. He knew how his uncle could be.

"It would be horrible, it would change the world entirely. The implications are so far great that even I cannot see that far. The father is meant to kill the messengers so that his son can win the battle and become a seat of democracy for Athens. Greece can be united yes but it is not time yet-it is far too early." Eros gulped. "Eros what did you do?"

"Its not my fault!" Eros shouted. "The nymph told me that the muse said that you said to send the arrow to the father!"

"THE NYMPHS?!" Apollo shouted. "BASTARD CHILDREN OF ARES!"