Fallen Olympians: Chaos Reigns

Introduction

Apollo awoke in a cold sweat. He'd just had a vision, and a terrifying vision at that. He'd seen himself, as well as all the other gods, dressed as mortals. They were very confused and panicked. He'd heard a voice, one that he thought he'd never heard before. It was low, dark and ominous, and it sounded ancient, almost like... No. That wasn't possible. The voice said that the gods would remain at the in that state until they learned to act properly again.

Apollo knew that the gods had been misusing their powers but it wasn't that bad... Right? Hmm... What if they were misusing their powers, what if they deserved to be mortal for a time? Apollo decided that he would ponder the dream as he flew around the world in his chariot, and decide whether he should tell Zeus of the vision or not.

As the day went on, Apollo was still confused. While flying, he saw his sister and her Hunters in the vast forest below. He decided it was time to pay her a visit.

"Good morning Artemis!" Apollo cried good heartedly to his sister.

"What do you want, brother?" groaned Artemis. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled back into an intricate braid, the brown lowlights standing boldly out against the softly glowing forest light. Her eyes were emerald green, and she had the skin of someone who spent most of their time in the sun, but without blemish.

"What, can I not stop and say hello?"

"You never just say hello. There's always something to follow." complained the Hunter.

"You know me all too well, sister. This time it's important." Apollo retold the accounts of his vision to Artemis. As the outlandish story went on, Artemis grew more and more worried.

"You must tell Zeus! Have Helios cover for you. My Hunters and I will head back to Olympus. Good luck, Apollo."

"Catch you later, Artemis."

Apollo took off once more, soaring quickly through the sky towards Olympus. Olympus was a massive castle that was hidden a secret island on top of a mountain that only demigods could climb. Landing his chariot gracefully on the long, grand walkway wrapping around the great Olympian temple, Apollo quickly dismounted, handing the reins of his huge, wild, palomino horses to some poor mortal who had been roped into labor. He quickly jogged up the 371 stairs that led to the doorway of the temple. Hurrying past other gods and some godlings and more mortals, he headed straight to the throne room. Bursting through the grand, golden double doors, Apollo went straight to the largest throne where the King of the gods himself sat idly.

"Father, I must speak with you immediately!" Apollo cried. Apollo told Zeus the accounts of the vision, but Zeus casually brushed him off and told him it was just a dream.

     "There's nothing to worry about, son. We are the gods of Olympus. There is no such force in the world that could cause us to lose our thrones." The Sky Lord explained.

     "But it was so real, father! And one of my many talents is Prophecy! What if it wasn't just a dream...?" Apollo worried.

     Zeus bent over his papers, ignoring Apollo completely now. Apollo rolled his eyes and ran his hands through his thick, blonde hair.

     "Guess I'll have to figure it out myself..." He mumbled. He ran back out to his chariot, determined to find someone who would listen.

*****

     Apollo lazily flew his chariot through the sky. It had been four days since his vision, and he was beginning to feel as though it was just a dream and that there was no reason to worry. Zeus was right; they were gods! Nothing had the power to turn them mortal. The sun god laughed at his foolishness. How could he have ever thought that something so childish would happen? He grinned to himself as he glided through the clear, blue sky, his horses galloping effortlessly through the air. Apollo was enjoying the breeze through his hair and the rush of cool wind past his face when he heard a strange flapping noise. Turning, he saw a great bald eagle, at least nine feet from wing tip to wing tip. It was carrying a scroll of yellowed parchment in its beak.

The giant bird flew straight toward Apollo and landed lightly on the edge of his chariot. Apollo looked curiously at the bird, then took the scroll from its beak. The eagle squawked loudly, spread its enormous wings, and took flight once more. Apollo unrolled the parchment scroll.

"Ah, a letter from Father!" Apollo exclaimed.

     Apollo, god of the sun-

Return to Mount Olympus immediately. The situation is dire, and you are required as soon as possible.

                                 -Zeus, Lord of the Sky.

     That was odd. Zeus never requested Apollo's presence this urgently. He shrugged.

"Perhaps I should go..." He said thoughtfully. He tugged the reins, and turned his horses around. Apollo snickered. To the mortals, it probably looked as though the sun has reversed directions, suddenly having a mind of its own and moving the opposite way through the sky. He urged his giant palomino horses to gallop faster, curious to see what Zeus desired.

A short while later, Apollo landed gracefully on the Olympian walkway. He dismounted quickly, handing off the reins, once again, to some unfortunate mortal who had been forced to work on Mount Olympus. He jogged up the grand staircase, and continued on to the throne room. The sun god burst through the doors, only to find that the other eleven Olympians were already assembled. They were staring at something on the far wall. Apollo scurried over and stood on his tip toes, peering over the gods' shoulders. Scanning the wall, he gasped. Tendrils of light covered the room, followed closely by thick shadows and intense blackness. The air was cold and a disoriented noise rang through the room. A man, who looked to be in his early twenties, stood at the center of it all. He had a dark complexion, with piercing kaleidoscope eyes and curly chocolate brown hair.

"Finally, the final Olympian has arrived." Rumbled a rich, deep voice.

"Chaos." Apollo said. Just saying the name aloud gave everyone chills, and the room seemed to become more disorienting. A hearty laugh emitted from the man's throat.

"It's been a while, my friends." Chaos chuckled. Then he became very stern. "You seem to have forgotten our agreement."

The gods shuddered. Only Chaos would remember.

"That was long ago, Chaos." Athena chided. Her frizzy, white-blonde hair bounced in its pony tail as she shook her head. Her stormy gray eyes stared coldly at Chaos, standing out against her pale skin.

"But you made an oath with me, remember? A binding oath, which you have failed to keep." Chaos boomed darkly. "I am here to hold you to it. Don't you remember?"

"Of course, how could we forget with you nagging us all the time?" Dionysius, a potbellied man in his mid forties, muttered. Strands of his longish, graying hair fell in his red face.

"The oath: You would never return to Olympus if we promised not to misuse our powers and treat the mortals kindly." Poseidon recited. His black, wavy hair stood on end and his sea green eyes gazed at Chaos. He was young, about mid twenties looking.

"Yes. And you have failed to keep your end of the bargain, my friends." Chaos sighed. "I'm here to hold you to it." The primordial god raised his arms above his head. The room became completely disoriented, so the gods could not tell up from down. A strange, loud noise filled the air, and the gods sank to the floor, clapping their hands over their ears.

"If you cannot control your powers, you shall not have any. If you cannot treat the mortals kindly, you shall feel what they feel. The feeling of mortality. Until you realize your faults, you shall remain cursed. That was the deal." Chaos reminded them grimly. "I hereby strip you of your powers, your titles, and your immortality."

With that, the gods felt a strange sensation, as though all the air had been removed from their lungs. They could not hear, see, breathe, or talk. With a twist of their stomachs and a jolt of the room, everything went black.