The warm glow of early sunlight washed over the garden, casting soft gold across the vines and flowers Aetherion had grown himself.
The air smelled of moon-petals and dew, as peaceful as it had been for the last few days of training.
That peace was broken by the sound of soft footsteps approaching.
Aetherion turned.
There, walking between the trees with grace and poise, was Rhea—his mother—her expression calm, but her eyes dancing with something new:
Hope, maybe?
Behind her, Gaia emerged from her stone-like palace of nature, her amber gaze rising as she sensed Rhea's return.
"Well,"
Gaia said with a small smile,
"From the look on your face, I take it things went well."
"They did,"
Rhea replied, her voice soft but steady.
She stepped forward and touched Aetherion's arm gently.
"I've brought good news."
Aetherion's silver eyes narrowed with anticipation.
"They agreed?"
Rhea nodded.
"Themis and Prometheus. They'll be coming here—tomorrow."
Aetherion blinked, absorbing the good news.
Then a small grin crept across his face.
"That's better than I hoped for."
"They were honestly quite easy to convince,"
Rhea said, folding her arms.
"Prometheus already seems to dislike what Kronos has done to the palace and Mount Othrys, but he's explicitly curious about you. As for Themis, she's seen enough to know there's no justice under Kronos's rule."
Aetherion nodded slowly, his smile fading into quiet resolve.
"And… one more thing," Rhea added. "I spoke with someone else. A Titaness named Metis."
Aetherion's eyes widened slightly, but he quickly masked it with confusion, tilting his head a little.
"Metis?"
he asked, sounding puzzled.
"Yes," Rhea replied.
"She is my brother Oceanus' daughter—one of his many daughters. She is the Titaness of Wisdom and is quite capable of making potions of many kinds."
Aetherion laughed softly in his mind.
He was glad that his mother had been able to recruit Metis, the one who had originally made Kronos vomit up his children with a potion.
It couldn't get any better for him.
"If it's someone you recommend, Mother, she must be extraordinary."
"She is," Rhea confirmed. "And she's interested in helping."
"Then we have a chance,"
Aetherion said, more to himself than to them.
"We might actually have a real shot at this."
Especially considering where he planned to use the potion.
Aetherion found himself grinning inwardly, laughing a little evilly in the back of his mind.
He hadn't told them yet when—or how—he intended to use it.
They probably assumed he would slip it into a drink or something subtle.
But Aetherion had other plans.
Plans he would reveal only when the potion was made—or while Metis was in the process of making it.
They spent the rest of the evening talking—not about tactics or weapons or revolution—but just talking.
Rhea told them stories from the Titan court before Kronos began unraveling.
Gaia listened, occasionally adding small, sharp observations about her children's foolish moments.
Aetherion stayed quiet for most of it, simply listening.
They hadn't had many moments like this.
And he knew they wouldn't have many more for a while.
When the moon reached its peak, Rhea rose to her feet.
"They'll be here tomorrow,"
she said.
Aetherion stood with her, feeling the weight of it settle on his shoulders like the night air.
"Then we wait."
***
The Next Day
The garden shimmered under midday light, the sun casting pale gold across the leaves.
Aetherion stood near the center, his arms crossed, cloak fluttering softly in the breeze.
Beside him stood Gaia—serene and strong.
And Rhea, radiant in her light pink toga, her golden eyes fixed on the path that cut through the trees.
Then they arrived.
Prometheus was the first to step into view.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and moving with the casual ease of someone who had nothing to prove.
His long, messy brown hair swayed behind him, and his hands were in his coat pockets like he'd just come back from a walk through the mortal world.
But Aetherion's gaze narrowed.
His smile was relaxed, yes—but his eyes?
They held layers.
Depth.
Sharp intelligence.
Cunning.
'He looks harmless,' Aetherion thought, 'But he looks like he's thinking ahead… maybe even seeing ahead. After all, wasn't he the Titan of foresight too?'
Aetherion hadn't really thought about it before, but maybe Prometheus truly could see the future—at least in some way.
Shaking his head, he refocused his gaze ahead.
He was followed closely by Rhea, and then by the final figure.
Themis.
She walked with quiet power, her movements precise.
Her pale blonde hair, nearly white, framed a face so beautiful it nearly stole Aetherion's breath—but it was her presence that left the strongest impression.
Her eyes were hidden beneath a white cloth, yet she seemed to see everything.
She was like a weapon forged into a woman—elegant, but dangerous.
She wore a white toga that clung to her curvy, powerful frame.
Aetherion couldn't help but notice the sword at her hip—a detail that told him all he needed to know.
'She's a warrior, it seems. She's prepared to fight for what she believes in—and if I had to guess, it's probably justice and order,'
Aetherion thought, since she was the Titaness of Divine Law, Justice, and Order.
They stopped before him.
Prometheus gave a small nod and looked at him curiously.
Themis remained still, unreadable.
Aetherion offered a respectful incline of his head.
"Thank you for coming."
Prometheus shrugged.
"Couldn't resist the invitation. Been wondering when someone would finally do something. Also, I'm curious about you."
Prometheus winked his way.
Aetherion looked at him, a bit confused—until his expression began to pale.
'Curious about me? Don't tell me…'
he thought, horrified by the mere idea.
Themis, however, spoke with no casualness in her voice.
"We didn't come here for pleasantries,"
she said.
"We came because your mother asked us to. Now we want to know—do you have a plan?"
Aetherion met her unseen gaze calmly.
"I do."
Themis crossed her arms.
"Then tell us why we should follow you. Because the last time someone rallied a rebellion, we traded one tyrant for another. Why should I believe you're any different from Kronos, should you actually succeed?"
The question landed like a sharp blade in the air.
Even Gaia, usually quiet, looked up with interest.
Rhea's expression darkened slightly—not defensive, but alert.
Prometheus raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt.
Aetherion stood silent for a moment.
Not from fear.
Whether it was relief, joy, or respect—Aetherion couldn't really tell.
But he was glad, in a way, that they didn't follow him just because he said so.
He would be grateful if they could think for themselves and come to their own decisions—and now Themis, who had just arrived, now standing before her own mother, a Primordial, showing no hesitation or concern for who else was in the room.
She simply wanted an answer—why they should follow him, and why they should even entertain this kind of rebellion he was planning.
And this… this was the moment.
The moment that would determine whether or not they would truly follow him—not just with their words, but with their beliefs, their trust, and the full force of their power.