Limos and Ponos clenched their jaws as they lowered their heads before their brother, Xanthous, the God of Calamity and War. Unlike them, he was different—not just in appearance but in thought and judgment. His very presence radiated a sense of authority that neither sibling dared to challenge openly.
Xanthous approached them, his golden eyes glowing with an emperor's intensity. His smile, far from warm, carried an edge that put both gods on high alert. Silence fell like a shroud as Xanthous moved past them toward the white oak tree, the sanctuary's lone beacon of purity.
His hand brushed against the bark, and he sighed softly, sensing traces of their sister's lingering power. Relief washed over him—the tree had not been corrupted. Turning back, he caught sight of his siblings attempting to slip away unnoticed.
"Leaving so soon?" His voice, light but menacing, stopped them in their tracks.
Limos turned, her expression an exaggerated smile of feigned politeness. "Yes, dear brother. Unfortunately, the fun we were having ended prematurely, so we must return to our tasks."
Her sarcasm dripped like venom, but Xanthous merely nodded, choosing to ignore her barb. Something else had piqued his curiosity. With a dismissive wave, he allowed them to leave. Limos bowed mockingly, dragging Ponos with her, the latter making no effort to hide his scorn as he broke branches and twigs on the way out of the lush garden.
Alone at last, Xanthous slumped to the ground, leaning against the tree. "What did they try to do to you this time?" he murmured, his voice soft. "It seems I'm destined to babysit everyone around here." His hand rested against the bark as he gazed at the tree, marveling at its resilience. In a world consumed by chaos and ruin, this small sanctuary stood defiant—a symbol of hope.
With a sigh, he rose, gathering a handful of apples into a makeshift sack. "Hang in there," he whispered to the tree, a rare warmth in his voice. "I promise I'll restore everything to what it once was." Patting the tree gently, he slung the sack over his shoulder and left the serene haven, stepping back into the shattered world that demanded his rule.
At the Council Hall
The ruins of Olympus loomed, a ghostly reminder of divine glory now crumbled to dust. Within its broken chambers, Xanthous's siblings waited. They sat among the debris, their expressions varying from boredom to outright disdain.
"What does that mongrel want now?" Ate muttered, her voice laced with venom as she lounged against a broken column.
"Silence," Horkos commanded, his voice firm. The eldest among them, Horkos was their mother's right hand and still commanded a measure of authority. While his siblings loathed Xanthous, Horkos was different. Though his reasons were unknown, he defended the younger god, much to their frustration.
The room fell quiet as Xanthous entered, his gaze fierce, his expression unyielding. The weight of his authority pressed down on the air, forcing his siblings to nod in reluctant acknowledgment. Despite their forced civility, their feelings were unmistakable: contempt mixed with thinly veiled hostility.
Xanthous's footsteps echoed in the hall as he entered, his golden eyes flickering with an intense mix of determination and weariness. The moment he stepped into the room, the tension crackled. His siblings' gazes bored into him, their disdain barely hidden behind cool expressions.
Limos, Goddess of Starvation, was the first to speak, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "What is it now, dear brother? What new plan to prolong the suffering of mortals have you concocted this time?"
Xanthous's gaze remained steady, though the weight of their words gnawed at him. He could feel the bitterness from his siblings, but he couldn't understand why they couldn't see his reasoning.
"They're struggling," he said evenly. "The mortals—these villages—they are barely surviving. What would our mother have wanted? To let them fade into nothingness? I—"
"Stop." Ate, the Goddess of Ruin, cut him off with a sneer, her lips curling into a mocking smile. "You mock her, Xanthous. You mock her legacy." Her words were a sharp, bitter burn. "Mother's will was clear. The mortals were to suffer for their betrayal. For siding with the fallen gods. Their end was inevitable. And now you, her chosen one, are playing their savior?" She raised an eyebrow, her tone dripping with contempt.
Ponos, God of Hardship, folded his arms tightly, his gaze hard and unforgiving. "She wanted them to pay. She punished them for their treachery, and now you seek to undo her work?" His voice was thick with disbelief. "Are you really so naive, Xanthous? To think you can stand in the way of what was meant to be?"
"Your mother was a goddess of wrath," Apate, the Goddess of Lies, chimed in with her usual venomous mockery. "She hated weakness. And yet here you are, trying to preserve what little life remains." Her voice was thick with disdain. "What are you, Xanthous? A puppet? Or are you simply afraid to embrace your true nature?"
A silence fell over the group. Even Horkos, the Punisher of Oaths, said nothing, his sharp gaze fixed on his younger sibling, though his posture was a little more guarded. Horkos, for all his cold and calculating nature, was the only one who didn't openly mock him.
Xanthous's golden eyes narrowed as he took in the words of his siblings. They couldn't understand.
"You speak of punishment, of wrath, but where does it end?" he said, his voice laced with quiet intensity. "We're gods of destruction, yes. But is that all we are? To destroy, to let everything wither away? What will remain? Nothing."
Limos's lip curled in disgust. "Nothing? Nothing would be better than this farce you're creating, Xanthous." Her eyes flashed with fury. "You take what was meant to be the great punishment for the mortals and twist it into a weak, foolish desire to protect them. That is the greatest insult to Mother's will."
"And what if I'm choosing something else?" Xanthous's voice rose slightly, his tone sharp. "What if I don't want to watch everything burn? What if I don't want to follow the path of destruction for destruction's sake? Is that so wrong?"
There was a long pause, and in the silence, his siblings exchanged uneasy glances. They were taken aback by his conviction, but their disdain for his actions was still strong.
Horkos finally spoke, his deep voice commanding the room. "Your strength is unquestionable, Xanthous. But if you go too far down this path, you will not only risk your reign but invite the wrath of all your siblings. We followed Mother's will for a reason. Her vengeance was her final gift, and you are foolish to waste it."
Xanthous's eyes burned with intensity, his voice calm but tinged with something deeper, something that none of his siblings expected. "I did not wish for this… yes, it was mother's will when she ruled and professed to avenge our uncle's death, that certainly had a hand in the other gods' actions… but I believe he's been avenged long enough."
His words hung in the air, sharp and undeniable. There was an odd weight to them, a finality that rattled the room.
Horkos, normally unwavering in his loyalty to their mother, faltered for just a moment, caught off guard by the truth in his brother's voice. He had not expected this admission, nor the conviction behind it. Though Horkos was the oldest, he was not blind to the reality that, perhaps, Xanthous was right. The vengeance they carried out for Ares, the bloodshed and destruction—it had continued for too long.
Horkos stood quietly, his sharp eyes narrowing as he processed his younger brother's words. There was no denying it. Xanthous's tone was not one of defiance, but of weary acceptance—he was not lying, nor was he offering some elaborate justification. It was the truth that hung between them: Ares had been avenged, and the endless cycle of wrath had worn thin.
The tension in the room shifted, just slightly. Horkos, usually the unflinching enforcer, hid his own thoughts behind a calm mask, but his silence betrayed a subtle acknowledgment of Xanthous's perspective. The others, however, could not see it. They only saw the flicker of uncertainty in Horkos's eyes, and it was enough to make them uneasy.
Without a word, Horkos lowered his gaze, his arms folding in front of him as he quietly considered Xanthous's words. He was not about to openly challenge his brother's decisions, but there was something in those words that made him question the path they had been following.
For a long moment, the room fell into a heavy silence, each sibling grappling with their own thoughts, but none daring to speak against the truth Xanthous had presented. Xanthous's gaze never wavered, his posture as strong as ever, yet his heart ached. He had always understood his mother's reasoning, but the endless cycle of vengeance had turned hollow.
Finally, Xanthous broke the silence, his mind racing as he searched for a clever way to keep his troublesome siblings—excluding Horkos—occupied with a task that would buy him enough time to think. His gaze swept over Limos, Ponos, Ate, and Apate, each one simmering with impatience, anger, or contempt. None of them understood the weight of what he was carrying, but that didn't matter for now. They would be too busy with their assignment to pose a threat to his plans.
A slow smile crept across his face, sharp and calculating. He could feel the undercurrent of irritation in the room, the tension thickening. But that was exactly what he needed. The more they focused on their own schemes, the less they'd notice his own.
"Very well," Xanthous began, his tone deceptively calm, "since we all seem to have differing views on the matter of the trolls and this so-called vengeance, I propose a task for all of you."
Limos raised an eyebrow, her lips curling in disdain. "What now, Xanthous?"
"Do not interrupt," he warned, his golden eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that stilled her for a moment. "You, Limos, and you, Ponos—since you seem so keen on continuing the chaos and suffering of the mortal realm, I have just the place for you two to focus your… energies. There are remnants of a mortal settlement deep within the southern reaches, untouched for centuries by the likes of your starving hands and unforgiving desires. You will scour the ruins, find what little remains of it, and bring back every last shred of whatever could be of use to our cause. I trust it will occupy you both for some time."
Limos's eyes narrowed, though she didn't protest. Ponos, on the other hand, let out a low grunt, clearly less than thrilled, but Xanthous wasn't concerned. He would make sure their search would be long and fruitless, wasting their time and keeping them far from the sanctuary he had discovered.
"To Ate and Apate," Xanthous continued, "you two will attend to the unrest within the eastern territories. There are whispers of a rebellion among the mortals—mighty enough to warrant your attention. Investigate and report back, but do not allow any of them to escape your grasp. Whatever it takes, make sure there are no survivors."
Ate nodded curtly, already envisioning the destruction to come, while Apate merely flashed a sly smile, knowing full well that whatever lies she could spread would fuel the rebellion further. They would relish the task, and he would not hear from them for quite some time.
Now, the true reason behind his orders would become clear. With the other gods engaged in their distractions, Xanthous could slip away, unseen, to the place he had recently stumbled upon—the white oak tree. His thoughts had been fixated on it ever since his brief encounter. A relic of serenity, a rare thing in this desolate world they had created.
He needed time to investigate it further. If he could learn how to protect it, maybe even expand its reach, it could be the key to something bigger—something that could offer a glimmer of hope in a world plagued by chaos.
But he couldn't let Limos or Ponos anywhere near it. The moment they set foot near that tree, they would destroy it without a second thought, and with it, any hope of salvation. The thought of them tainting the small sanctuary sent a chill through him, and he tightened his grip on his own resolve.
"Now go," he said, his voice heavy with finality. "I trust you know your assignments. And, of course, do try not to disappoint me."
The siblings hesitated for a moment, the faintest traces of resentment flashing in their eyes, but none dared challenge him outright. After all, Xanthous was the strongest among them, and none of them were foolish enough to underestimate his power.
With that, they all dispersed, leaving Xanthous alone in the council hall, the weight of their departure sinking in. He could already hear them bickering among themselves as they left, the sound fading as they went off to carry out their tasks.
Xanthous let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing. Alone at last.
"Xanthous." A stern and deep voice reminded him he was not completely alone.. but the person he was waiting for. Because in the end, he couldn't do it all himself. He needed someone he can trust.