The air crackled with divine energy.
A cluster of gods and goddesses stood on the marble steps of Olympus, their expressions shifting between awe and suspicion.
The Chaos Pool, a swirling golden abyss at the heart of their sacred realm, had stirred for the first time in millennia—and from it, a child had emerged.
A new divinity.
And in the arms of Hecate, the Goddess of Magic, lay the source of this disturbance.
A baby.
Wrapped in nothing but the glow of divine power, the child stared up with bright, otherworldly eyes—eyes that reflected the very essence of the universe's fabric.
Not a single god spoke.
Then, finally, Zeus broke the silence.
"Hecate." His voice was deep, powerful—unquestionable. "What is the meaning of this?"
The goddess of sorcery didn't flinch. She merely tightened her grip around the newborn.
"She was born from the Chaos Pool."
Murmurs rippled through the gods.
The Chaos Pool was ancient, predating even Olympus itself. It was where primordial beings had once emerged—Nyx, Erebus, Tartarus—but no new gods had been born from it since the earliest ages.
This child's existence was an anomaly.
"And yet," said Hera, stepping forward, "she bears no known divinity."**
Eyes turned back to the child. Unlike most newborn gods, who carried a clear divine mark—lightning, the sea, war—this girl had nothing.
No aura of power.
No signature of dominion.
Only… potential.
Like a blank slate.
And that made her both valuable—and dangerous.
---
A Mother's Claim
Hecate met Zeus' gaze without wavering.
"I will take responsibility for her."
The murmurs stopped.
Hecate? Claiming a child?
It was unheard of. Unlike Hera, Demeter, or even Aphrodite, Hecate had never played the role of mother. She was the goddess of witchcraft, crossroads, and the unseen forces of magic—a being who walked between worlds, not one who nurtured.
Yet, here she stood, making a claim before all of Olympus.
Zeus narrowed his eyes.
"Do you understand what you are asking, Hecate?" His voice held a warning edge. "If she remains in Olympus, she must prove herself. If she has no divinity, she has no place among us."
Hecate's lips curled slightly. "Then we will find it."
The king of gods stared at her for a long moment. Then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, he turned away.
"So be it."
Hecate glanced down at the child in her arms.
Still staring up at her, those strange, mirrored eyes holding something deeper than a normal newborn's should.
She was a mystery.
A question waiting to be answered.
And Hecate had always been drawn to the unknown.
As the gods dispersed, whispering about the unprecedented birth, the goddess of magic turned and carried the child away—knowing, somehow, that this was only the beginning.