“Did you tune out that entire speech?” Hades only laughed under his breath in response.
“Are you saying you listened with rapt attention?”
“I listened enough to understand that, yes, we’re currently marching into a battle with Kronos. Which is an important detail to miss,” Hades quipped back, unsheathing a bident from somewhere in his robes. Poseidon’s face split into a wide grin, giving Hades a playful shove on the shoulder as he held up a trident.
“It looks like mine is bigger, brother.” He winked and Hades smirked in response.
“You know it’s all in the technique.”
“Are you trying to lecturemeon making waves?”
Erebus couldn’t keep a small smile off his face. Their good-natured ribbing was rubbing off on him. He missed his family; he missed Nyx. The more time that he spent on Mt. Olympus, the more disconnected he felt and how estranged he was from the rest of the gods. He had never had any reason to stay connected to them, and he wasn’t convinced he would now. Still, seeing the warmth between the two brothers—even as they descended into war—made him painfully aware of the hole in his chest.
The gods begin to scatter, some taking to the skies, materializing on mounts, leaping into the back of chariots. Erebus watched as Poseidon appeared on his left in a chariot made of water, pulled straight from the atmosphere. Hades was on his right, black clouds billowing out around him like smoke and obscuring his feet. They approached the edge of the mountain and peered out over the valley, getting the first glimpse of their battlefield.
Across the short valley, at the base of Mt. Olympus, Erebus could make out the line of Kronos and his sovereigns. Erebus had never seen Kronos up close, but he could identify him standing at the back of the lines like a general. Erebus couldn’t help but turn around and notice that Zeus had taken up a similar position, letting the other gods rush down to the frontlines first. Kronos stood over eight feet tall, a massive sword hanging from his belt as he yelled out commands. The gods, Erebus included, had crested over the last peak and were now rapidly descending the side of the mountain to meet the titans on the field below. As Erebus felt the wind rushing past his face, he dissolved in the winds, taking his primordial form and a thick, powerful wave of dark shadow drenched the mountain like an avalanche. His gaze rapidly moved over the front line of titans, studying where he would make his first move.
Erebus’s eyes landed on Menoetius, the titan of violent anger and rage. He was nearly as tall as Kronos, with long, wild brown hair and an unkempt beard. His mouth was twisted open in rage as he screamed into the skies, his fists shaking with two large clubs in his hands. Erebus had heard of his cruelty, and he had found his target. He crashed down on the grass, sending a crack through the earth’s crust that went hurtling straight for the enraged titan. Erebus let out a resounding yell in return, a web of shadows hurling out from him in every direction before centering on the titan.
Erebus pushed off from one foot and leaped towards him, two massive xiphos made of impenetrable shadow appearing in his hands.
“Menoetius,” Erebus yelled, vanishing into thin air before reappearing right in front of the titan’s face. The titan roared, swinging his club with full strength towards Erebus. He saw it coming, willing himself to go as translucent as his shadows as the club swept right through him. Menoetius let out a massive shriek, spit flinging from his open mouth as he swung again.
“Erebus,” he grunted, taking a step forward as he continued swinging his clubs, “Fancy sees you topside!” The words were a taunt, Erebus could tell, which he ignored as he continued to draw the titan further and further into the fray. Menoetius was easily consumed by his anger, entirely focused on the cause of that anger, which was solely Erebus.
As he dodged and parried, Erebus kept an eye on the scene around him. While he had engaged Menoetius to keep such a furious titan off the paths of the other less powerful gods, the armies were evenly matched. The titans had monsters on their side, devoid of critical thinking but outlandish in their size and cruelty. The gods were often limited by their surroundings, as omnipresent as they might claim to be. Erebus only caught sight of Athena, plunging a lance into the heart of a cyclops, and Hades, laughing and pulling his bident off the neck of another nameless titan. He had drowned out the sounds of the battle raging on around him, only for all of it to come crashing down on his senses at once. The sounds of clanging metal, the war cries of angry gods, the bellows of titans, screams of the injured.
“Watch out!” Poseidon’s voice broke through the din like a wave, shocking Erebus to his senses. He turned around and saw Menoetius, now holding a wicked, curved blade and swinging it down at him. It took only a second for Erebus to call down a curtain of darkness around them, blinding Menoetius as he screamed and began swinging the blade wildly. Erebus, with perfect vision in the dark, took the xiphos and thrust them both upward through his neck. The titan made a sick, gurgling sound as he fell with a thud that expanded the crack in the earth.
Once he heard Menoetius fall, Erebus pulled away the blackness and took in quick stock of his surroundings. There were other felled titans in the valley, their bodies like massive boulders now dotting the landscape. The ones who remained were hurtling back towards Kronos’s side, who was staring down Zeus with a murderous look in his eye.
“Let’s go, Darkness.” Apollo whipped past him in his chariot, a shining grin on his face. “It looks like we’ve all done our jobs for the day.” Erebus nodded in response, not moving his gaze from Kronos as he followed the other gods in their retreat. They had won for today, but the titans had underestimated them. That wouldn’t happen again.
The next battle wouldn’t go in their favor as easily.
27
The retreat to Mt. Olympus was tense, even if they were walking away with a victory. Erebus almost immediately evaporated, dissipating into shadow and smoke as he rolled over the battlefield. He caught glimpses of the other gods as they made their way up the winding path, none of them looking particularly cheerful. Even Ares and Athena were walking side by side and had their heads bowed in deep conversation. Zeus was nowhere to be seen.
So much for first on the battlefield and last off.Erebus’s thoughts turned violent once more, furious that Zeus was harboring plans so bold as to capture him and Nyx. He felt his shadows curling around the very edge of the universe and had to throttle them under control to keep from plunging the world into blackness. The rest of the gods slowly filed into Zeus’s pantheon, no doubt waiting to debrief and drink—the emphasis on drink. Erebus took a few more minutes to calm down, waiting until he was sure that he wouldn’t go after Zeus on sight. The last of the gods to go inside were Zeus and Poseidon, both wearing expressions that were muted, their weapons hidden on their person.
Erebus had to nearly coerce himself back into a mortal form, his feet landing on the steps of the great hall. He moved double-time, a swiftness about him, as he tossed the double doors open. It had the impact that he was hoping for—the doors swung with a massive thud as they hit the walls, shadows pouring in the hall and collecting around Erebus’s feet. He walked into the room slowly, power ebbing off him in waves that made every other god in the room take notice.
The primordial looked around, seeing most of the gods had cups either half-raised or halfway to their lips. Zeus sat on his throne at the top of the room, a furious look on his face. It was clear that he had been in the middle of a toast and Erebus had ruined it with a rather dramatic entrance. Erebus made no motion to speak to any of them, his black eyes grazing over the room with a stare that made even Ares shiver for a moment.
He found Hades and Poseidon, still together, standing off to the side. Hades had continued sipping his wine with a smirk on his face while Poseidon was holding his cup at his waist, untouched. Erebus moved seamlessly towards them, taking up position and crossing his arms across his chest. He looked up at Zeus and nodded once. The message was clear. Zeus had been interrupted by Erebus’s late arrival and had now been given thepermissionto continue. His face turned so red that it looked like he was about to explode. There was a coughing sound as Apollo cleared his throat, and it shocked Zeus back to his senses. A smooth, serpentine grin slid back across Zeus’s face as he raised his glass, finishing his toast.
Poseidon leaned over and muttered to Erebus, “Did you really think that was wise?” His tone of voice showed no judgement or contempt over the decision. Erebus shrugged and Hades had to fight to keep from laughing, chewing on his bottom lip.
“I think it was time that Zeus remembered he’s not the most powerful one in the room.”
“I don’t think he’s ever forgotten.” Poseidon raised his glass and took a long sip as if the gathering now officially required alcohol to get through it.
“If we’re going to whip them out and measure, please keep me out of it.” Hades leaned over, laughing quietly from the side. Erebus shook his head in disbelief but grinned nonetheless. He turned his attention back to Poseidon, his expression sobering as he glanced back at Zeus.
“Maybe it’s time to remind everyoneelsethen.” Erebus’s voice was resolute. “I’m not here to play games anymore. Whatever politics are afoot, especially whatever you two are planning…” Erebus pointed his finger at the brothers. “I’m not doing it. I’m here to keep Zeus in line, see this through, and go home.”
The brothers stared at Erebus quizzically before analyzing one another. Their plans had only ever been spoken out loud between the two of them, but there was a chance that Erebus had picked up on the undercurrent between them. Something had changed in Erebus, too, his motivations shifting just enough that they knew he knew something.
