Chapter 31: Trial of the Gods Part 1
The wind and rain screamed around them. Alcippe would have fallen over, if not for Hephaestus. The god's power shrouded them, his divinity taking the brunt of Poseidon's rage.
Alcippe slammed through the cloth acting as a door. She was out of breath, the storm ramping her anxiety. "Mother! MOTHER! Where are you!?"
An older woman, with streaks of grey in her onyx hair, rounded a corner. She was sopping wet, lacking protection from the rain.
"Alcippe," she whispered. The two embraced, crushing each other in their relief.
"What's happening?" she asked.
Her concern only grew. Standing in their doorway was a man of massive build. He was taller than even the love of her life, Ares. Yet, he was far less daunting. His form was similar to the bulk the men of the forge would carry, though his height made him seem far bulkier than even them.
Her eyes noted the muscles in his shoulders, equal in build and strength. Unlike the soldiers and craftsmen she knew of, his muscles were not lopsided. For a moment, she was concerned, her hand reaching for the knife she carried in a sheath on her back.
Yet, whereas her love carried the savagery of a warrior, this man was tranquil, a pillar of calm amidst this storm.
But it was the rain that stayed her hand. Every raindrop that hit his skin sizzled into steam. Even if he felt nothing like the gods she had come to know, she knew he couldn't be human. His golden eyes were warm and for a moment, she felt safe.
"I would ordinarily not intrude," admitted Hephaestus as he stepped into her abode, "but time is of the essence. Alcippe, grab whatever it is you need. We have to leave."
The mother turned and before Alcippe could grab her things, Hephaestus grabbed her by the arm. He whispered something to her, the two sharing a look.
"What?" she asked.
"I asked for a reason. It will bring you no harm, I swear."
She scoffed, ripping her arm from him.
"That's not what I'm scared of…but fine, take my burdens. Whatever the hell it actually means."
The girl left, Hephaestus' mind reeling from the events. The complications would only grow even more. He needed to–
"OINK!"
Hephaestus blinked. Alcippe's mother was carrying a bag but behind her leg was the stoutest boar he had ever seen in his life. It was muscular, its tusks sharp, its red eyes bleeding an urge to murder. It eyed him, ready to take on even a God.
It was also short and impossibly round. It was like a little ball. He blinked at it and the boar blinked at him.
"OINK."
A deep echo promising murder. A murder ball.
"...Did…did Ares make this?" he thought.
It was objectively cute, maybe. But all Hepahestus saw was a poor creature distorted into a caricature of some sort.
"...can Augustus come?" whispered the mother.
"Of course," he muttered. The woman before him smiled, notably ignoring his look of pity at the boar. She even picked the boar up like one would a puppy. While she seemed slightly, the muscles she had could only be achieved through martial training.
She was also armed, a sheath strapped on her back with a dagger.
It took only a moment for the mother and daughter to gather their things. Everything was put together quickly, was it sad that it seemed practiced? Hephaestus' ears twitched, looking out the window to a pair of beady eyes peering from the woods. The two lived close enough to the city to walk, but not so close as to be accosted by neighbors. For a moment he assumed it must have been an animal.
A deeper glance brought a scowl. It was a beastly creature, a mix between a wolf and a deer. It didn't matter. For a moment, Hrunting appeared by Hephaestus' side, the beast running off at the mere sight of it.
Young and weak. A newly born monster searching for a path to power. He sent the sword off, the death throes of the monster suffocated by the winds.
"We're ready."
Hephaestus gestured outside, the two following him with their sacks of goods.
"Ifrit!" roared Hephaestus.
Alcippe's poor mother didn't even get the chance to scream as the phoenix came barreling down, wrapping them in azure wings. To the humans, it was like riding in an enclosed roller coaster, fast and brutal. The air left their lungs from how fast they were moving, their hearts sitting in their stomachs.
Just as quickly it was over, the two gasping for breath as embers fell around them. Alcippe eyed the strange house, the make nothing like she had seen before. A clear material in the windows, a wooden structure cut in straight lines and flushed together.
It was almost alien to her. A structure of the gods.
"Apologies," interrupted Hephaestus. "We're normally more careful. I have to get to Ares, but Kassandra will help you."
A woman's head peered out from a larger barn beside the home. While still made with wood, it's design was at least something Alcippe had seen before. She eyed the woman. Beautiful, with long brown hair, she looked at Alcippe and her mother with surprise.
"I will? I will!"
Kassandra trotted up to the group as Hephaestus disappeared in a torrent of flame. Neither mother nor daughter were shocked. Ares was a part of their lives and as such nothing amidst the supernatural was surprising.
"OINK!"
"...uh…hello there," muttered Kassandra, backing away from the defensive boar. Its eyes were drilling into her, even as the woman cuddled it to her chest.
Alcippe and her mother looked to the distance. From Lemnos, the storm in Athens could not be seen. But the daughter of Ares felt her father even now. Even her wholly mortal mother felt something in her stomach, the weight of it bringing worry.
He was fighting…but was he winning? For all that she griped about him, for all that she felt that the god had left her alone, these last few months had been something she grew to cherish.
For the first time in her life, Alcippe prayed.
-Ares and Poseidon-
"BRING IT ON!" roared Ares, fighting against the storm. "Face me you coward! Hiding behind the ocean like your pathetic son!"
His eyes screamed, a shine of crimson even in the face of the storm. Lightning curled above Ares, Zeus pushing back against Poseidon's oceanic might. In fact, it was not just Zeus.
Athena stood behind her brother, clad in full regalia, nothing but the light of her eyes visible beneath her helm. Her divinity shrouded Ares. Demeter, Artemis, Apollo, every Olympian stood behind Ares.
Not a single one stood with Poseidon.
Even Hades, lurking in the shadows, stood not with Atlantis, but Olympus. Hestia herself was even here, quiet and flickering like a candle.
"Coward," rumbled the voice of Poseidon, "says the whelp surrounded by gods."
He emerged from the water. His once luscious beard had been sheared to a goatee. An attempt to woo Demeter that he never got around to changing. His black hair flowed down his back like the seas he embodied, but his eyes?
Cold as the northern glaciers.
"You killed my son," muttered the god, "so I will have a child, for a child."
"YOU WON'T EVEN GET NEAR HER!" roared Ares.
Ares roared as he charged forward, only to jump back as a pillar of fire slammed between them. Ifrit sat on his shoulder as Hephaestus rose. He stood between them, staring down Poseidon.
"On that," rumbled Hephaestus, "we agree."
"Brotherly love," muttered Poseidon, "Cute. Sheltering her will do you no good, nephew."
"Perhaps. But sheltered she'll remain. She is under my protection, Poseidon. An oath I swore to Ares long ago."
A bit of a stretch on the timing, but no one else needed to know that. Ares had the sense to keep his reactions to himself.
Hera stilled, eyeing the two. Even now their bond made little sense to her, but an oath of protection was no simple matter. It embodied concepts that went beyond just physical protection.
It carried a weight even Poseidon balked at.
"Ludicrous," grumbled the sea. He ignored the spark of jealousy at the way the younger gods had come together.
Poseidon made to move, only for lightning to strike in front of him. The blast scorched the earth, the sparks making Poseidon's arms sting. He hated how his brother's domains allowed Zeus to bypass his defenses so easily. He looked to the sky, to the domineering glare and stood tall. "Stand aside, brother."
Zeus stayed above, lightning curling off his form. The once playful yellow had turned a searing angry blue, the lightning growing more and more erratic.
"I will not," snarked Zeus. "After all, you're threatening a grandchild of Zeus, brother!"
Zeus glared at Ares, "A grandchild I've only learned of now, but a grandchild nonetheless. I do not need oaths to take action."
Ares turned to his father, stunned and apologetic all at once.
"HE IS A MURDERER!" The trident in Poseidon's grip slammed into the ocean like a marble floor. "My son was defeated! His battle is over!"
"Like anyone would believe that!" growled Ares. The god of war snarled, his body radiating a crimson shroud at Poseidon's smirk. "Your son threatened my daughter! He attempted to take her innocence from her by force! You think I'd stand for that! That I'd let that happen!?"
"It's too late," thought Hephaestus.
The rage in Poseidon never simmered, but it changed from the need for conflict…to the surety of victory. The sea god even had the audacity to chuckle, eyeing Ares like a gullible nephew.
He smirked even more when Ares lunged forward, held back only by his brother.
"Let me go!" he growled.
"Calm down…we've already misstepped. Look at him!"
Ares's glare would have killed a man countless times over. Yet, even the war-driven god could see the smugness of Poseidon.
"No one would believe me," muttered the sea god, "I guess we'll have to settle it, won't we?"
Hera stared at her brother, her dead cold eyes making even his confidence falter for a moment. Hera knew the truth, that Ares would probably have been forced to watch his daughter be taken before he could take action.
Not that Poseidon cared.
The nature of divine law, at its core, centered on two components, justification and retaliation. Yet, there was a more sinister core to it as well.
Survival of the Fittest.
While the gods lacked genuine free will, they did have autonomy. Without divine law, the world would be a wasteland of gods laying an endless siege against each other. Through divine law, a god could be restricted, their divinity sundered, or even their actions limited.
As Hephaestus had experienced.
It was why direct conflict was avoided, for the most part. For why bother engaging in a fight that would leave you wide open to such a thing?
Ares' strength was great, but as a god, subverting divine law was all he could do. His strength had already waned from pushing against the system for his daughter, doing so again would have consequences.
Severe ones.
He hated it, the very feeling. Like something had sapped an internal part of him that was seemingly never coming back. Something needed to die. Anything to feel strong again.
Ares scowled, feeling the subtle influence of Pallas, his so-called "guardian". The arrogant Titan was an annoying pain in his ass, always portraying himself as a disciplined warrior.
Meanwhile, he was more of a savage than Ares was.
Hephaestus' hand was on his shoulder a moment later. Ares shook it off, but his brother leaned in unafraid.
"...Trust me," whispered Hephaestus, his hand once more on his shoulder.
"..." Ares looked in the distance, eyeing the trail Ifrit made through the clouds.
"Fine." he muttered, shoving out of Hephaestus' grip, "Now get off of me!"
They silently bickered, the sight of which made the older gods uncomfortable. Hera eyed them, still struggling to understand the relationship between those two.
She wasn't uncomfortable with it, no of course not. Her son growled as Hephaestus stood forward. The war god was the eldest between them, it was him who should be at his front, as was proper.
"If they were going to play pretend family, at least do it properly," thought Hera dryly.
Yet, Hephaestus stood between Ares and Poseidon like a bulwark. As if he alone could withstand the tide if need be. He was a mistake, an aberration. Hera still believed that with all her heart. What she saw that day, that broken thing…it shouldn't have been born.
But perhaps it was due to his distorted nature that a tragedy had been avoided. For a moment, something fluttered in her chest. So quick it may as well have not existed. Whatever remnants had withered before the goddess would even think to recognize it.
It was only for a moment, but the sensation brought a frown to her face.
"I demand…justice," said Poseidon softly.
Hera rolled her eyes at her brother's words. Of course he'd go this far. Poseidon was the most reckless of them all.
"The issue is how well it has worked in his favour," thought Hera.
There was nothing worse than a reckless streak that was rewarded. A thought that was shared with one other, Hephaestus' own gaze sharpening at Poseidon's words.
"Justice, for you?" clarified Hephaestus.
"You know what I seek, Zeus," said the sea god, ignoring his nephews.
The brothers shared a look, Zeus crossing his arms. The electricity never dimmed, if anything it got more sporadic, more violent. But even the sky had to relent. For Zeus was not just a god of lightning, but of justice, for all the good that brought.
"A trial. You sure you wish to bring us to that point?"
From Zeus' tone, it seemed that it wasn't something that could be dismissed. Hephaestus tuned out their conversation, more focused on Poseidon's mannerisms than anything else.
He was smug. To him, he seemed to have everyone dancing in the palm of his hand. He would call it arrogance if not for the way he carried himself. This wasn't confidence in his abilities…this was something more.
Something concrete.
Though…why Poseidon seemed to falter for a moment as they locked eyes eluded Hephaestus.
"They're both staring at me," thought the god of the sea. The golden eyes of mother and son were a rather eerie combo when they're both stuck on you.
It was hilarious to the god of the oceans just how similar those two were. Stubborn to their principles, unyielding, and somehow knew more than they should. Even when Poseidon restricted divinity in his discussions with Hera, his sister always knew what he was going to say, as if she could read his mind. In fact, it was the greatest rumor amongst the minor gods that Hera was indeed capable of just that.
It was false, but it was a rumor that Hera tended to with pride. Now, the son she threw away shared in that quality? A pair of weavers, artists, and politicians rolled into one?
If the duo wasn't so creepy, he'd outright laugh. Served her right. Children were precious, no matter their form. The atrocity of his father was something Poseidon would never repeat.
The idea that his child was murdered? It was one that he would enact a revenge so total and complete, no one would ever think to do it again.
Ever.
The air was silent after Poseidon's declaration. Zeus was calculating every angle his brother could be going down.
"A trial?" muttered Ares.
Demeter was beside her nephew, the God of War eyeing her quizzically.
"It's rare amongst our kind, but when disputes are large enough…we use a trial."
"Large enough my ass," thought Ares. "This is personal."
Hephaestus eyed the older Olympians. They all seemed put off, but more so annoyed than anything else.
"I take it this isn't something we do leisurely?" he asked.
"No, it isn't," sighed Demeter. "It invokes divine law in a way that is draining for all parties involved. A God of Justice acts as the judge. They anchor divine law to the trial, empowering the laws of a given system both with their own power and those that are bound to us as gods."
Hephaestus blinked, turning to Zeus. It took him only a moment to realize the implications.
"...then, you can influence divine law?"
"That's not a wrong way to look at it," admitted Demeter, a soft hand to her lips. Her brow furrowed as she tried to explain again. "We avoid it only because it enforces our laws with that of Chaos. The punishments that follow such trials are…"
She turned to Poseidon, her displeasure obvious.
"Unavoidable. As is the evidence that is provided in a trial on Olympus."
The death of a child was serious, yes. But Ares wouldn't say it was a large issue to the gods per se. It was…depressing, but a mortal child was ultimately of little consequence.
Death was a natural consequence of life. So long as you died on your terms, any death was a good death in Ares' eyes.
"That little fucker," thought Ares, his rage reaching new heights, "he's trying to avoid responsibility!?"
What had been attempted was the furthest from an end on one's own terms. It was humiliating and disgusting. So, he killed the little prick, as he so deserved. Now, Poseidon was attempting to exact vengeance…for that…that…thing!? The habits of his fellow gods always disgusted Ares. He never understood why anyone would want to simply take.
It was abhorrent, weak!
It should have been a fight! A conflict of equals seeking victory over the other! Of submission freely given, of dominance asserted!
It was boring otherwise. At least, that's what it was at first.
The memory of Aclippe in his hands as a baby echoed. It wasn't just boring…it was wrong.
Poseidon…was wrong.
"A trial would require the entirety of Olympus," stated Demeter, "Demanding something like that–"
"Worried for me sister?" smirked Poseidon.
"Do the trial," she said instantly.
The trial of the gods was not some social concept of justice. It was a ritual, one that intertwined divine law with that of the community. The laws of Olympus, empowered to its zenith through the focus of a God of Justice.
In this case, Zeus. Through this, the law both in word and spirit would be adhered to.
Hecate had taken this to a more mobile form, using spells to replicate the effects, but to a lesser degree. But within the so-called "Court" of Olympus, the typical twisting of truths was, quite literally, impossible and thus its punishments forever binding.
It was the greatest strength the Olympians had, and was a source of pride for Zeus. Even Hermes and all his tricky ways wouldn't be able to avoid spilling the truth in such a place.
The laws of Chaos filtered into an Olympian lens was a terrifying concept for many of the would be manipulators in this world.
"The cost," thought Hepheastus, eyeing the other Olympians, "must be shared across all those involved, rather than just the accuser and accusee."
If even half the myths that Hephaestus had knowledge of were even remotely true, then Poseidon would rend heaven and earth asunder just to hurt Ares. The cost of such a ritual wouldn't matter. He'd strong arm the gods if he had to.
He could see it in his eyes, Poseidon would not back down. The god stood tall, even against the other eleven. Dionysus and Hermes had come closer to the two, joining them on the ground. The God of Wine's lazy eyes were sharp, his drunken haze absent. Yet, there was an unmistakable bite to him.
Like vipers circling around. The original six shifted uncomfortably as Artemis and Apollo joined as well. Athena appeared behind them all shortly after, her face covered in the shadows of her helm. The youngest generation, standing in unity.
Hermes was cold and sharp, arms clasped behind his back. There was no smile on his face, merely the promise to get involved. Ironically, of all Zeus' children, Hermes was the one most embroiled in his father's affairs.
He'd fight if he had to.
Apollo's smile was easy going, but there was a hint of something to him even Artemis didn't know about. Poseidon felt his skin crawl, the feeling of pestilence dragging its finger across his neck.
Though why he felt like Apollo was going to punch him was strange.
To Poseidon though, Artemis was the worst of the lot. Hephaestus and Hera were stone cold, but the goddess of the wild made no attempt to hide her utter disdain.
She paced, her bow absent. Her form shuddered, revealing a wolf. The entirety of her domain brought to bear…and a hint of the sea. She would become any predator necessary…even one from the oceans.
His kingdom would not be safe from her hunt.
"That's the way," smirked Poseidon, a hint of pride for the younger generation.
"Bastard," muttered Ares.
It annoyed a lot of them, but they didn't move.
The air grew thick with tension. Poseidon's trident was summoned, grasped in an ever tightening grip. It rose and swelled like the sea at Poseidon's back, his divinity surging to eclipse every single one of the younger generations.
His smirk faltered when none of them budged.
They had all stayed back before.
They wouldn't do it again.
Electricity sparked across Zeus' form, his smirk the most annoying of everything that was around him. Poseidon taking slow steps forward, his eyes glowed ready to–
"What are you all doing?" drawled Hera.
Only for it to pop. Poseidon lulled into a stop, his face falling as a tinge of concern grew in his eyes. The younger gods all shuffled around like they'd been caught by their mother.
Hera was stoic, but there was a fire to her that Hephaestus had never seen…a protectiveness as she gracefully moved in front of her son.
Hephaestus ruthlessly crushed any semblance of emotion that rose from within him at the sight of it.
"It would wait?" muttered Poseidon, "And why should we wait?"
"Because knowing you, you would invoke Atlantic law in this little scuffle of yours and bypass the trial entirely. The destruction that would wrought would have you all reeling for centuries from divine law and Gaia herself, if you were unlucky."
"...They started it," muttered Poseidon.
Hephaestus eyed the sea god, put off by the sudden change in behaviour. He had heard Poseidon's mood would shift rapidly, but he didn't think it was this bad.
"The summer Solstice is today as well," stated Hera.
She was imperious, taking control of the room immediately. Zeus' passive acceptance only added to her authority. Her fan came out, softly waving.
Hephaestus felt her divinity spread with every movement of the fan. Why she bothered, he didn't rightly know.
"It is an event that a multitude of gods have been invited to. You are welcome to fight but we know the consequences will be something we'd all rather avoid, even you…brother."
"...Hmmph," grumbled Poseidon.
She was like a tiger, circling around him. But Poseidon wasn't deterred. Hephaestus still didn't like the confidence as the god waved them off.
"Fine, fine. I'll allow this." Poseidon dispersed, locking eyes with Ares as he broke into water. "Be seeing you."
Even with the sea god gone physically, the sea still raged like a tempest. It seemed unending, the way the water swirled and crashed into itself.
A plan began forming in Hephaestus' mind. One that used everything at his disposal. Athena shuddered, her eyes narrowing as she turned to Hephaestus. Her domain itched within her.
The youngest of the gods congregated around Ares, the war god already looking as if he was about to explode.
"Was hoping to get a scuffle in," muttered Dionysus.
"You'd know we'd lose," grumbled Apollo.
"Sure, but in doing so we might be able to skirt whatever plan Uncle had," muttered Hermes. "He was… too confident."
"Agreed," said Hephaestus, crossing his arms. "There was something more to this…he wouldn't have allowed the fight to escalate."
"On that we agree," stated Athena, her voice hollow and empty. She adjusted the grip on her spear, the regalia she wore disappearing. "This was about power…he was testing something."
"Really? Even then? That's foolish, you don't just try something new," growled Artemis. "To go that far for…for that!"
The goddess spat onto the ground, nature wilting at her caustic state. She looked ready to rip apart anyone that wasn't careful.
She turned, ready to gouge out the throat of the hand that touched her shoulder.
"Thank you," smiled Hephaestus.
Her rage did not subside, but she did reign it back.
"...Sorry," she muttered, running her hand through her hair. "I haven't been that angry in a long time."
"It shows sister, you looked ready to rip uncle in two!" smirked Apollo, "Besides, with all of us in the fight, Uncle wouldn't have gotten out unscathed…though…"
"Starting a fight wasn't the plan, not really" muttered Dionysus, "besides, Ares would have killed us first before trying against Poseidon anyway."
"This is my fight!" growled Ares.
"Sure it is," muttered Dionysus. "Not like we're worried what precedent Poseidon is trying to set up."
"...That arrogant mother fu–"
"Calm yourselves, my children."
Zeus came down from on high, running a hand through his beard. The younger gods made room, the group turning to Zeus. He stood amongst them, a good head taller than all of them. He ran his hand through his beard again.
Some of the gods leaned forward as Zeus spoke.
"This is a mess," he muttered.
Only to deflate.
"No shit," muttered Ares.
"A trial… we haven't had one since the titans," sighed Demeter, joining them in a swirl of leaves. "The consequences can be… unexpected."
"Can't be that bad," joked Hermes.
"I reaped my father's domain of the harvest."
"Well, we all know you can do that–"
"Permenately," stated Demeter.
She was weakened for weeks after a trial held for a Titan. Her ability to reap domains was always temporary. A disconnect that would reform over time, just as Kronos did.
But, just as her father had reaped a bit of time's power, so had she taken his. They had not expected for her to keep the power as a consequence of the trial, but it was all the same.
It had killed the morale of the other gods and titans that sided with her father. It had weakened them significantly as well, which was another danger they hadn't considered.
"...damn," muttered Hermes.
"I believe it has more to do with sister's synergy," muttered Hera, appearing beside them. "But that's beside the point. Poseidon is a fool if he thinks this will go his way."
"It makes you wonder why Poseidon wants to use something so draining," said Hestia quietly. "You don't think he's trying to weaken us?"
"Nonsense," muttered Hera. "For all that we govern our own realms, our strength together is what prevents our pantheon from fracturing as some have. If he genuinely sought such an outcome, he wouldn't do so in such a way that weakened him as well."
Hestia wasn't so sure. In the last trial, she had suffered the brunt of it, having been freshly bound to the flames of the west at that time. Still, they were stronger now. Perhaps it would be different?
Demeter shuffled awkwardly, affirming herself as she turned to Zeus.
"Brother… do you need us?"
Hera's ire spread to Demeter, a betrayed look in her eye at the harvest Goddess' question. Though Zeus seemed pleasantly surprised at her. For a moment, his grudge for them dulled. He stroked his beard as he spoke.
"I'm confident it won't reach such a point. My ruling will be enough."
She said nothing else. If anything, she seemed entirely uncomfortable there amongst them.
"This is a lot more involved than I thought," said Hephaestus.
"We're stronger now than we were before," muttered Hera, "but I still believe a trial is a mistake. It would be best to curb Poseidon's recklessness and stop it before it begins."
"Don't worry nephew," smiled Demeter, ignoring Hera's pointed look. "We can teach you what you need to know, is that not right, sister?"
Hestia smiled softly as she nodded. For a moment, Zeus felt lighter than air, but it was as fleeting as his very winds. For the memory of Typhon was not so easily forgotten.
"Regardless," drawled Zeus, eying the seas, "Poseidon is not one for losing battles. I doubt he'd bring up a trial of all things for no reason."
"He'll probably try to go after Alcippe," growled Ares. "Could he? Use this trial to get to her?"
Zeus' eyes glowed, the sky rumbling above him.
"I won't let him. Poseidon's hopes to kill Aclippe is clear but…"
"There's more to this," scowled Demeter. "There's always something beneath the surface with him."
"Too true," muttered Zeus.
Hera whispered something to Ares, before looking at Zeus. For the first time in years, the two were on the same page. There was a strange resonance between them, a discussion without words. Zeus smirked as Hera came closer to the group, standing between her husband and her son.
"Of course you did," he chuckled.
He caught himself laughing, killing the mood as best he could by clearing his throat.
Ares looked at his father, before scoffing. He was being treated like a baby. He hadn't felt this way since Pallas trained him. Zeus clicked his tongue, grasping his son by the shoulder. A short tingle danced underneath his fingers, the sparks bringing Ares' eyes to his own.
"None of that boy, I would have done the same. We'll get this sorted out. We did not–"
Father and son shivered, reality tearing at them for actions, divine law weighing heavy on their shoulders. Hera, for once, had a gleam of approval in her eye. She did not fetter over her son, nor did she give him a second glance. He had done what any reasonable parent would do.
For that, she was proud.
No, instead Hera's gaze remained locked on where Poseidon had been. She was stone cold, but her eyes were alight with almost mad fervor. In the distance her divine beast, a lioness, awoke.
It was a quiet beast, seldom moved much. A battle hardened companion from the war, it preferred to slumber on a rock, basking in the sun. It's eyes snapped open and it lumbered menacingly from the Gardens of Olympus down to the island of Atlantis.
Here Poseidon was worshiped and adored, much in the same way Hephaestus was on Lemnos. Before the god of fire had arrived, it was Posiedon that interacted with the humans the most.
Hera was not stupid enough to attack the island, divine law would shatter her form before too much damage could be done. But the threat of it would keep Poseidon's worst habits in check.
Sure enough, the realm began to quiet. Poseidon's rage was reduced to a quiet muttering, but Hera held no illusions. Her brother was biding his time, just as she was. She needed to move quickly, and as Hera left so did the other gods. Hephaestus eyed Artemis, the goddess of the hunt nodding as she disappeared.
They left one by one, leaving only Demeter, Hera, Ares and Zeus with Hephaestus.
Hephaestus weaved divinity around him like an igloo. It was blatantly obvious to any god that he was hiding something, not that it mattered. Whether by scalpel or cudgel, the outcome remained the same.
Poseidon would hear none of this.
"What we need is our next move," said Hephaestus, turning to the group that remained.
Demeter, against all expectations, remained close to Zeus' side. A show of support even Hephaestus didn't expect her to give. Zeus actually seemed uncomfortable, eyeing Demeter with distrust.
But Hephaestus could see the flickering hope in his…urm…father's eyes.
"Still not used to that," he thought.
Ares was itching for a fight, his fingers drumming on his crossed arms. But, they both knew the truth. In a straight contest, any of the younger Olympians would lose.
All of them combined would lose for that matter. In terms of Divinity, Poseidon dwarfed their whole generation. They were less developed, and the raw difference in divinity for gods like them would not be surmountable.
But that was their problem wasn't it? Always about power or raw divinity. There was more to battle than just sheer might. But a direct confrontation was probably what Poseidon wanted.
Hephaestus recalled the fight with Hades, the way that he was able to adjust and alter the terrain and even Hephaestus' own strength against him. Battle with a god was never as simple as trading blows.
No, it was best to circumvent Poseidon entirely.
"This is starting to become more of a political stand-off than an actual conflict," thought Hephaestus.
But there was one thing that burned in him. Something that had gnawed on his mind over and over again whenever the gods had conflict. It always came down to the amount of power they held.
But, was that the truth in reality?
He'd prepare himself either way. He turned to Demeter, but before he could ask anything, Ares scoffed.
"In a direct fight…I'd lose," he muttered, "but even so I'll tear him apart as much as I am able."
"At your age? Nephew, your virtues are many…but you would not be able to harm Poseidon," explained Demeter.
"He can eat a crow for all I care!" growled Ares.
"It's not that you would not harm him it's just he's…annoying at best."
"He really is just sturdy," grumbled Zeus. He smiled as he patted his son on the shoulder. "Though with age, your blade will sharpen to pierce even Poseidon's defenses. I'm sure."
"I'll be back," stated Hera as she disappeared.
At Hephaestus apprehension Zeus sighed.
"It's…difficult to explain."
"It's the sea," said Hephaestus, "isn't it?"
"Partly. Like I said, it's difficult to explain."
It was the nature of fights between gods. Nothing was ever as simple as a physical confrontation.
Domains, authority, repercussions, the list went on. Factors that debilitated or constrained divinity. Concepts that augmented strength and restricted power. Even the nature of how gods actualized a physical form affected battle. For all that Ares was unmatched in physical combat, he was still a young god. A physical domain that was already at a disadvantage against the might of the oceans itself, not to mention that his true form remained unstable, for the most part.
Add into the waning of his strength by bending divine law and…well…
"Poseidon believes he has an advantage with the trials. He does not," smirked Zeus. "Poseidon can invoke the trial all he likes, Olympian law will not bend to his will. The collective authority of Olympus also backs this. Even Hades will get involved."
"Uncle will?" muttered Ares.
The disbelief was palpable. Hades was a recluse at the best of times, albeit not entirely by choice. Ares sighed, rubbing his brow.
"Mother," he muttered.
"Say what you will about her, she knows how to get Gods moving," grumbled Zeus.
"...He's too confident," said Hephaestus, "Far too confident. Are you sure we've covered our bases?"
Hephaestus cringed internally at the modern slang. Zeus had a quizzical look, but focused more on reassuring his anxious child.
"It's fine," smirked Zeus, "Justice is my domain, and I can assure you both. Poseidon has no foothold, not with me."
His tone darkened, the skies rumbling. "Especially with me."
Hephaestus had no doubt that Ares had every support available to him. Poseidon's habits had garnered more enemies than the sea god knew…but the way he carried himself…
Poseidon was no fool. He would sacrifice even precious subordinates if it got him even greater influence. Granted, Skilros was not exactly a stellar example, but the fact he was willing to let Hephaestus murder him showed a cunningness to the ocean's master.