I didn't know how I got here.
One moment I was inside my father—inside Cronus, watching as his teeth clamped down . The next, I was gasping in the dirt, mud filling my mouth, forest canopy spinning above me.
I staggered into the shadows of a twisted ash tree and collapsed against its bark. My chest heaved. The shadows clung to me like old blood.
I was alive.
How?
I had felt myself being devoured. I had heard the screams inside his belly—Hestia's soft voice crying out for help, Poseidon cursing through pain, Hera sobbing so quietly it hurt more than any scream.
And yet… I wasn't with them.
I wasn't inside him anymore.
I had escaped.
No, not escaped—ripped out.
Something had pulled me from that prison. No. Something had exploded from me. A storm. A scream. A force so terrible that Cronus, the Devourer of Gods, spat me out.
But not my siblings.
Gods, my siblings.
I gripped my knees and rocked slightly, back pressed to the bark, trying to steady my breath. But it kept catching in my throat, sharp and uneven.
I could still feel Poseidon's blood on my hands.
His arm… the way it twitched on the floor. The sound of Cronus biting down.
The silence after.
They were gone.
And I was not.
Why?
Why did I survive?
A rasp of breath, unbidden.
Then another.
Then a whisper—not from the woods, but inside me.
"You left them."
I jerked upright.
"Ran like a coward," it said again, low and venomous. My own voice. Twisted.
"No," I whispered. "No—I tried—"
"You watched. You watched him eat them. Did nothing."
"I fought. I bit him. I tried—"
"And then what? You escaped. You fled. You let them die."
I slammed my fist against the tree. "SHUT UP!"
The forest went still.
Even the wind seemed to retreat from me.
But the voices didn't.
"You were supposed to be strong."
"You were the oldest brother now."
"You failed them."
"You shouldn't have been born."
"Better if he'd eaten you first."
"Better if you'd never existed—"
"Stop!" I screamed, the word ripped from my throat.
I felt it then.
That energy.
It surged again, hot and volatile, coiling beneath my skin like a serpent made of fire and shadow. My hands trembled. The grass around me withered. The shadows deepened unnaturally.
I gasped for air. The forest felt like it was shrinking around me, the trees warping, groaning, leaning in. The birds had gone silent. The air shimmered with tension, and the ground beneath me cracked.
Something was happening.
Something is wrong.
I couldn't stop it.
"Please… please stop…"
I felt the scream building in my throat again, the divine force inside clawing to be let out, to burn, to destroy—
A hand touched my shoulder.
Warm. Firm. Real.
"Breathe, child," a woman's voice said, calm and low and endlessly patient. "You're safe now."
The energy in me spasmed, flared, then choked back.
My chest hitched.
The voice continued, gentle as rainfall. "You don't want to destroy this forest, do you?"
"I—" My voice cracked. "I can't— I can't control—"
"Yes, you can. Don't be afraid, young godling. You're not alone anymore. Not right now."
My breath came in shorter gasps. "He… he ate them… he's going to find me… I shouldn't be here… they're gone and I—"
Her arms wrapped around me before I could finish.
I don't know the last time someone held me like that. Maybe never.
I sagged into the embrace, trembling. I pressed my face to her cloak. It smelled of earth after rain.
"It's not your fault," she said, rocking me gently. "You did the best that you could, Hades."
My name in her mouth didn't feel like an accusation. It didn't feel like a curse. It felt like an anchor.
I lifted my gaze slowly.
She looked older—far older than even the Titans, while they looked to be in their 20's she looked to be in her 40's. Her skin was deep brown, smooth like a river stone, her hair in thick box braids wrapped in copper beads, pulled beneath a soft brown hooded cloak. Her eyes shimmered—not gold, not silver, but something like wet soil kissed by moonlight.
And she smiled.
A smile like spring. Like home.
I tried to speak.
Tried to ask who she was. How she knew me. Why was she here?
But all that came out was—
"Please… don't take me back to him."
She brushed the hair from my face with long, calloused fingers.
"I won't," she whispered. "Sleep, little one. You're safe beneath my roots."
My lips trembled.
And then everything faded.
All the fear. The voices. The pain.
Everything seemed to melt away, as I could feel my body get comfortable in her arms.
☼
I woke with a jolt, gasping.
The air tasted of stone and moisture, cool and clean. My hand instinctively reached for the place where my missing eye should have been—but there was only smooth skin, faintly warm.
My pulse thudded like war drums in my chest. My body was sore but not broken. I was no longer on the forest floor. And—thank the Fates—no longer inside him.
Where…?
I looked around, trying to piece my thoughts together. I was lying on a stone bed carved directly into the cavern wall, covered by a blanket of thick wool, dyed deep forest green and soft against my skin. The chamber around me glowed with a faint golden light—not fire, not torches. Something else. Moss, I realized, glowing faintly across the walls like stars trapped in stone.
I swung my legs off the bed. My knees trembled under me as I stood. Every joint aches like I'd been lying still for decades. My feet made soft sounds against the smoothed stone floor as I staggered toward a thick woven curtain hanging across the doorway.
I pushed through.
What awaited me beyond made me stop in my tracks.
The cavern opened into a vast underground sanctuary—a hollow world beneath the earth. Jagged stalactites dripped from the high ceiling, their points glittering with embedded crystals. Water trickled from unseen springs, weaving through stone channels like veins of liquid silver. The air smelled of wet earth, honey, and herbs I couldn't name.
A tree grew in the center of the cavern. A tree underground.
Its trunk was gnarled and wide, older than time, roots curling along the floor like sleeping serpents. From its branches hung glowing fruit that pulsed faintly with light—golden, green, and violet. It bathed the cavern in soft warmth.
I barely had time to marvel before I heard voices.
"Well maybe if you fed him on time, he wouldn't scream like a dying banshee," a gruff, feminine voice snapped.
"Oh forgive me, great goat queen, I didn't realize his Highness had a feeding schedule!" another voice—more playful, teasing—shot back.
I followed the voices, my steps echoing softly through the chamber. As I rounded the tree, I found them.
A woman and… a ram?
No, not a normal ram.
The creature was massive, the size of a horse, covered in thick wool like a storm cloud, glinting with woven golden jewelry around its horns, ankles, and neck. Its black eyes sparkled with far too much intelligence.
The woman beside it was striking—tall and muscular, with skin the color of dark cedar and hair braided down her back like river ropes. Her ears were long and pointed like a blade's edge. She was barefoot, dressed in a short leather chiton, arms crossed, a baby resting in a sling across her chest.
They were arguing.
About the baby.
And the baby…
I knew who that was.
I cleared my throat.
They both snapped their heads toward me.
The woman's gaze hit me like a thrown spear. Her eyes were hard—amber and unblinking. She stepped forward like a warrior, shoulders squared, muscles taut. I instinctively took a half step back.
Then, just as suddenly, her expression softened. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
"Well, look who's finally awake," she said with a voice like rushing wind over stone. "You scared the hells out of us."
I blinked at her. "Wh-who… where—?"
"You used a lot of Divinity," she said, walking over. "Burn yourself near empty."
I frowned. "Divinity? What… what is that?"
She cocked her head, curious. "It's the energy that lives in all things. Life, power, breath, soul. Most creatures have only a trickle of it. But those like you… like us… the Drakaina… we have oceans of it."
"Dra…kai…na?"
She nodded. "Not Titans. Not gods. Something in-between. Something more."
I took that in slowly. My mind felt sluggish, like it had been stuffed with clouds.
"How long…?" I rasped.
"You've been asleep for a month."
My heart stopped. "A MONTH?!"
She held up a hand immediately, eyes narrowing. "Shhh! Keep your voice down. Your brother is sleeping."
My eyes darted to the baby in the sling.
Zeus.
His tiny chest rose and fell in a soft, steady rhythm.
He looked so small.
But his energy… I could feel it even from here. A power untamed, like a storm waiting for its first crack of thunder.
I looked back at the woman. "Who are you?"
She stepped back slightly, placing a hand over her chest. "Adrastea," she said, bowing slightly. "Mountain nymph, midwife of storms, and your temporary babysitter, apparently."
"And this is Amaltheia," she added, smirking, elbowing the ram.
The massive wooly creature snorted and grumbled. "You could at least not kick me."
A soft shimmer ran through its body, and the ram shifted—warped—until a woman stood in its place.
Taller than I expected, but not towering. Maybe 5'10". Lean, like a bowstring, but every movement was graceful, fluid. Her long golden hair flowed down to her waist, her wild eyes glittering like sunlight on water. Ram horns curved from above her ears, complementing the sharpness of her elfin features. Her exomis clung to her like wind-blown silk, golden jewelry woven through her hair and wrists.
She rubbed her ribs where Adrastea had kicked her and muttered, "I liked it better when he was asleep."
"Say hello," Adrastea said flatly.
"Hello," Amaltheia grumbled, crossing her arms.
I blinked at the two of them. "I… don't understand. How did I get here?"
Adrastea smiled softly. "Our mother brought you. You'd collapsed in the forest. She carried you here herself."
I froze. "Your mother… Gaea?"
"The one and only," she said with a proud shrug. "You're lucky. She doesn't usually bother carrying broken little hatchlings across half the world."
I swayed slightly on my feet.
The Earth Mother had carried me.
Gaea.
My chest clenched. I didn't know what to feel. Gratitude? Terror? Awe?
I looked around the cavern again. "Where… is here?"
Adrastea stepped past me and gestured for me to follow. I did, quietly. We climbed up a narrow passage, carved in a spiral through stone. Faint natural light filtered down, getting brighter with each turn.
When we finally emerged into daylight, I blinked hard.
The sun hit my skin like a balm. The wind carried salt and the scent of pine. We were high in the mountains. Clouds drifted beneath us, and before us—sprawling to the horizon—was the glittering blue of the sea.
We were on an island.
She pointed toward the mainland in the distance. There, on the horizon, rose a mountain that seemed to tear the sky open—Mount Othrys.
Even from here, even this far away, I could feel his presence.
Cronus.
That weight in my gut—the cold, sick dread of being hunted—returned with full force.
"We are far from him," Adrastea said softly, watching me. "This is Crete. The Diktaean Cave, nestled in the slopes of Mount Dikte."
I swallowed hard. "I… I didn't know there was a world this far from him."
"There's a world even farther," she said. "But this one is where you are. Alive. Free."
I looked back down into the cave, the stone walls, the hanging moss, the infant god sleeping in the shadows.
And I asked the only question I could.
"What do I do now?"
Amaltheia leaned against the entrance, arms folded, eyes cool.
"You help raise your younger brother," she said. "And in the meantime you will be trained in using your divinity and establishing your first connection. And when you are both ready," Amaltheia finished, "you two will go and save your siblings from your fathers stomach. You and Zeus are the only ones we can count on."
This was a task that was given to Zeus when he got older. When he was ready to save his siblings and yet here I was receiving the same job, tasked in helping Zeus, to train and help raise him.
I looked down at my hands. They were slightly trembling.
Could I actually do this? Live my life like a god and take part in the upcoming war?
I nodded once, slowly. "Alright. I'm ready. Let's do this."
Adrastea's smile returned—it was quite sharp and showed her canines.
"Good," she said, turning with a flick of her braid. "Then you'll start by fetching water from the spring, building a cradle, washing our laundry, and catching us dinner."
I blinked. "That… doesn't sound like training."
"It is," Amaltheia muttered, walking past me, her golden hair swaying. "If you can't carry a bucket, build a bed, or feed a hungry child, you're not ready to fight Titans. You're not even ready to raise a god."
Adrastea added with a mischievous grin, "You said you were ready. You didn't ask for a sword. Now come along."
I looked back toward the cavern where baby Zeus slept before I took a breath, and followed her.