.oOo. Years Later .oOo.
Years passed, but the strange tension in the beautiful divine city of Olympus persisted. Normally, such unrest would have erupted like a volcano, but now it lay dormant, seemingly waiting for the right moment to explode.
While the gods continued with their immortal lives, one was constantly falling from grace, at least in the eyes of mortals. Marriages were no longer blessed, families crumbled quickly, and women ceased to receive blessings from the goddess of marriage. It was a clear sign of the goddess's displeasure—or what others perceived as displeasure. However, the minor gods understood the truth.
A blessing was not something a goddess actively performed; it was a passive occurrence, a reflection of the god's own emotional and mental state. If the blessings had stopped, it meant that the goddess held no emotional attachment to mortal life.
...OoO... Hall of the Gods ...oOo...
Eleven of the twelve Olympians were seated around the warm orange flame at the center of the Hall of the Gods. The fire's homely glow contrasted sharply with the tension that filled the room.
"Zeus, you have to do something about this," said Poseidon, his face stern as he addressed his younger brother. His tone was clear—he needed Zeus to appease Hera, for his own marriage was in danger of falling apart.
Zeus's face darkened into a frown. "And how do you propose I do that, Poseidon? The woman refuses to see me or even speak to me. I sought the help of Ares and Demeter, but it was useless. She only spoke of how she's setting me free and spouted a whole slew of nonsense," Zeus growled.
Poseidon frowned, his gaze searching. "What did you do to anger her so?"
"That's simple," Athena interjected, drawing Poseidon's attention. "Father disrespected her convictions, her very beliefs. She's not called the Goddess of Marriage for nothing."
"Yeah, it's as if someone questioned why Zeus is lord of the skies if he doesn't have power over storms," Apollo added with a careless shrug. It was a fair assessment—Zeus ruled the sky, but the phenomenon of storms was a shared domain between him and Poseidon, with the sea god officially holding the title.
Zeus winced at that. "That's a simple comparison, but yes, it's something similar. However, in this case, I inadvertently insulted her deeply," Zeus admitted.
"And this is after he raped her, man, that's brutal," Ares chuckled, earning him a warning growl from Zeus. But the god of war's words echoed the truth Zeus didn't want to face.
Poseidon's face turned blank, and he looked away. It was something many gods did—descend to the mortal world and have affairs with humans without a second thought. But he hadn't considered how this affected his sister, someone whose very existence was tied to the sanctity of marriage.
"You know this isn't about Zeus having many lovers, right?" Aphrodite spoke up, her tone more understanding than the others. Both she and Hestia knew Hera better than anyone, as their domains overlapped. Love and marriage were inextricably linked, except in rare circumstances.
"What do you mean?" Demeter snapped. "It's clear she's just bitter that her husband wasn't satisfied with her."
"Ah, no. The thing is, Zeus didn't ask," Aphrodite pointed out, drawing the room's attention. "Hera knows she can't control Zeus's actions and that infidelity was bound to happen. If Zeus had asked, I'm 80% sure she would have granted him permission to take another wife. After all, polygamy isn't unheard of," she explained, as if it were obvious.
"I… I think she might be right, as surprising as that is," Hermes added, nodding thoughtfully.
"So all of this could have been avoided if Zeus had been a man and asked to take another partner," Aphrodite concluded. In that moment, lightning burst from Zeus's form, striking near Aphrodite's feet. She yelped and jumped back.
The room fell silent, the only sound being the crackling of residual sparks. "Now that we know the problem, what can we do to solve it?" Zeus asked, his eyes fixed on Aphrodite.
"Let her go," Aphrodite replied simply, her tone serious.
Everyone held their breath.
"I'll ask again, and this time, think carefully about your answer," Zeus said in a low, threatening tone.
"I believe she's right," Hestia responded calmly, drawing Zeus's attention.
Zeus turned to look at the fire in the middle of the room, his gaze sharp. "What?"
"The warmth of a home, the fires of a family, no longer burn between the two of you, Zeus," Hestia said gently but firmly.
"Yeah, she's fallen out of love with you. It's best to let her go, and maybe things will get better," Aphrodite added. Zeus shot to his feet, lightning flying around him and blasting holes in the walls.
"Never! If she doesn't want to treat me like her husband, then I'll make her suffer," Zeus snarled before disappearing in a flash of light.
"Man, I knew I should have told him before he left," Apollo muttered, his face pale.
"Told him what?" Athena asked sharply.
"Well… um… about the incoming invasion," Apollo admitted, his voice trembling.
The room froze in shock.
"You fool!" Artemis shouted.
...OoO...
While the meeting was taking place, Hera sat outside, enjoying a concert in the gardens of Olympus, where many mythical creatures had gathered to celebrate. Hera sat beside her daughter, Hebe, both smiling as they listened to Euterpe, the muse of music, sing alongside nymphs and satyrs.
The joyous mood was abruptly shattered when thunder rumbled in the skies. The world began to turn gray, blocking out the sun. Hera looked up, noticing flashes of lightning dancing across the gathering clouds.
"Dad is mad," Hebe said quietly, fear creeping into her voice. The creatures around them gasped and quickly scattered, the merriment broken. Euterpe frowned, angered that her concert had been interrupted.
Hera stood up, patting her daughter's head reassuringly. "Don't worry, he's just throwing a temper tantrum. Despite being a god, he behaves like a child," she said. Her eyes glowed purple as she rose into the air, looking up at the face forming at the center of the storm.
"So, what is this about?" Hera asked calmly, her tone laced with mockery.
"Show some respect, woman!" the thunderous voice boomed.
"I'll do so when you stop acting like a child. No, wait—never. I love seeing my cute baby brother try to act like he's a big deal," Hera replied with a giggle, her words hidden behind a peacock feather fan. Zeus fumed at her mockery.
"Mind your words, Hera. I am your husband!" Zeus thundered.
Hera sighed, her patience wearing thin. "You forget, Zeus, our so-called marriage was made for two reasons: first, I did not wish to be shamed by your actions; second, to solidify your authority over Olympus. Now, I see how big of a mistake that was. I should have lived with the shame of being defiled rather than putting up with being the wife of a small man like you."
Zeus shivered with rage, his entire form crackling with power. "You have made a fool of the King of the Gods, Hera. My wife or not, I won't take that lying down!" he roared, the skies alight with lightning.
"What are you going to do? Hang me across the skies?" Hera mocked, unfazed.
"Hera, by my authority as King, I revoke your status as an Olympian!" Zeus declared, his voice shaking the heavens. Normally, such a decree would be voted upon, but when Hera smirked and did not contest the decision, there was a powerful burst of purple light from both Hera's temple and the Hall of the Gods.
This was the sign of both her temple and throne shattering, her divine authority leaving her. Under normal circumstances, the energy would have returned to the void. But Hera was no fool—she had anticipated this. Being stripped of her authority would weaken her greatly, so she had prepared a way to retain the immense power that made up her divine status.
Zeus knew he had made a mistake the moment he saw the cruel smile on Hera's face. The skies turned rainbow-colored before shifting to deep purple as the Ether that composed her authority began to gather around her, feeding into her newly formed symbol of power.
The other Olympians rushed to witness the spectacle, arriving just in time to see Hera laughing as the energy continued to flow into her. Zeus, revealed behind the dissipating clouds, roared to the other gods, "Stop her!" as he raised his hand, gathering a lightning bolt to throw.
But then, a massive creature broke through the clouds—a golden bull, towering over mountains, appeared on the opposite side of the mountain, charging toward the cluster of temples. "You bitch!" Zeus shouted, enraged by this development. Before them was the Behemoth, one of Hera's strongest minions, a monster powerful enough to challenge the gods.
Hera merely smirked as the energy continued
to gather around her, feeding into her newly formed symbol of power.**
She needed time—just a little more time—and the Behemoth was her insurance. Her order to the monstrous creature had been simple: buy time, then retreat if possible. Hera was almost certain that the Behemoth would fall in this battle, but she had prepared for that eventuality.
"You, Zeus, have wronged me for the last time," Hera whispered to herself, watching as the other gods soared off to confront the rampaging bull, determined to protect their temples.
Before her stood Hestia, her expression sorrowful as she blocked Hera's path. "This isn't the way, sister," the goddess of the hearth said softly.
Hera's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Do I look like I care, Hestia? I'd rather die than continue living this lie. But I'm no coward—I won't take my own life. I will fight until I am free."
"Free of what, Hera? The throne of Olympus?" Hestia asked, her voice tinged with a quiet plea.
"No, not the throne. I desire my freedom—from Zeus and the toxic marriage that has bound me for so long," Hera answered, her voice filled with conviction. "I am the goddess of marriage, Hestia, so I cannot end the marriage myself. Zeus must be the one to do it. But I will not stop until I am free from this prison."
Hestia closed her eyes, understanding the depth of Hera's resolve but unable to support it. She knew that once Hera set her mind to something, there was little anyone could do to change it. "And what of Olympus, Hera? What of the mortals who look to you, who pray to you?"
"They will manage, just as they always have. I will guide them as I see fit, but I will no longer be defined by a marriage that has brought me nothing but pain," Hera replied, her voice firm and unyielding.
Hera's gaze then shifted to Aphrodite, who stood nearby, seemingly amused by the unfolding drama. Their eyes met, and Hera spoke, her voice carrying the weight of divine authority. "Aphrodite, by my power as the goddess of marriage, I hereby annul your marriage to my son."
The declaration shocked the two goddesses standing with her. Aphrodite's eyes widened in surprise. "You're serious?" she asked, searching Hera's face for any sign of doubt.
Hera nodded once, her expression resolute. "Your marriage is over. You are free, just as I will soon be."
Hestia's heart ached at the sight of her sister so determined, so unyielding in her pursuit of freedom, but she knew that Hera would not be swayed. She had to find her own way out of the darkness that had consumed her.
Hera turned away from them, feeling the last of the energy finish merging with her new symbol of power. With a wave of her hand, she created a crack in space—a portal to another realm, one where she could prepare for the final step in her plan.
"Farewell," Hera said, stepping through the portal.
.oOo. On Olympus .oOo.
As Hera disappeared through the crack in space, the skies above Olympus darkened further. The Behemoth's roar echoed across the divine mountain, shaking the very foundations of the gods' temples. The Olympians fought valiantly against the monstrous creature, but they could not shake the unease that gripped their hearts. Something had shifted, something fundamental had changed in the balance of power.
Zeus, his anger still seething, watched in horror as Hera's temple crumbled, the symbols of her authority broken and reformed in her own image. He had intended to punish her, to bring her to heel, but instead, he had unleashed a force he could no longer control.
"Fools! She's taken everything!" Zeus shouted, his voice laced with panic. He threw his lightning bolt at the Behemoth, striking the creature with all his might, but the damage had already been done.
The other gods looked on in silence, understanding that this was no mere conflict between husband and wife. Hera's defiance was a declaration of war, not just against Zeus, but against the very order of Olympus.
As the Behemoth fell to the combined might of the gods, its massive body collapsing with a thunderous crash, the sky cleared, revealing the devastation left in the wake of the battle. The once pristine and majestic city of Olympus now bore the scars of the conflict—cracked temples, shattered statues, and the faint remnants of a battle that would be remembered for ages.
But amidst the destruction, one truth stood out: Hera had broken free. She was no longer bound by Zeus or the expectations that had chained her for so long. She had reclaimed her power, her identity, and her future.
.OoO. END OF CHAPTER .OoO.