Chapter 29

The throne room was alive with energy, filled with Olympians, minor gods, a few Titans, and even mortals. Aeolus's mother stood among the villagers, their faces a mixture of awe and pride as they gazed upon the grand gathering. At the center of it all, Aeolus stood before the Olympians, his expression tense yet determined.

I stepped forward, letting my gaze sweep over the gathered assembly before resting on Aeolus. "Thank you all for coming," I began, my voice echoing through the vast hall. "Today marks a momentous occasion, a day that shall be remembered throughout the ages. A mortal who rose beyond his limitations, who faced trials that would have broken lesser men, stands before us now, ready to take his place among the gods."

A murmur of approval spread through the crowd. I turned my attention fully to Aeolus. "Kneel."

Aeolus hesitated only a moment before sinking onto one knee. I raised a hand, summoning a crystal vial filled with golden oil. The divine essence shimmered within, almost alive as it pulsed with energy. As I uncorked the vial, the scent of ozone and sea air filled the room.

I poured the oil over Aeolus's head, the liquid gleaming like molten gold as it cascaded down his body. One by one, the other Olympians stepped forward, placing their hands atop his head in silent blessing. The oil thickened, covering him completely until he was encased in a shimmering cocoon.

We stepped back as the cocoon pulsed with radiant energy. The air in the throne room grew charged, crackling with barely contained power. Then, with a sudden, blinding flash, the cocoon shattered, sending golden fragments scattering like falling stars.

A gasp rippled through the crowd as Aeolus emerged, reborn.

He was taller, his frame lean yet powerful, his body adorned with intricate Lichtenberg figures that glowed faintly with residual energy. His hair, now a striking white, flowed past his shoulders, and his eyes burned with an electric blue intensity. Behind him, massive white wings, tinged with streaks of stormy silver, unfurled to their full span.

Silence reigned until I spoke once more. "Kneel," I commanded, and one by one, the gathered deities, Titans, and mortals alike fell to their knees in reverence. Aeolus, the mortal who had transcended his humanity, stood as an equal among gods.

He was also very much naked.

With a snap of my fingers, a set of elegant silk robes appeared over his body, draping around him with effortless grace. Aeolus blinked, then let out a breath, his lips twitching as if holding back a grin.

I smirked before turning to the assembly. "Olympians, Titans, and mortals alike, behold Aeolus, the god of the Sky, Lightning, Storms, and Winds! The newest Olympian god!"

A cheer erupted, shaking the very foundations of Olympus as the divine realm welcomed its newest deity.

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The celebration for Aeolus lasted several days, and I found myself enjoying it more than I had anticipated. Olympus, so often a place of political maneuvering and divine posturing, was alive with music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets filled with the finest nectar. The grand halls shimmered with golden light, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats, honeyed fruits, and spiced wine. I made sure to invite all my employees from the Underworld—my trusted judges, the shades who had earned respite, even a few reformed monsters who had found their place in my domain. They deserved a chance to revel in something joyous for once. My friends and allies joined as well, and of course, my love, Hecate, stayed by my side, her mere presence adding a certain enchanting energy to the festivities.

Aeolus was, as expected, the center of it all. The once-mortal-now-Olympian carried himself well, greeting gods, demigods, and even the mortal guests with grace and confidence. He had come a long way from the boy who had first stepped before my throne, unsure of his worth. His mother, a simple woman who had never imagined stepping foot in Olympus, was overwhelmed at first, but I ensured she was treated with the utmost respect. She had been given permission to visit whenever she wished—a rare honor, but one that felt right. After all, how could a mother be expected to suddenly part from her son, no matter how high he had ascended?

The mortals, those from Aeolus' village, had been allowed to witness the festivities as well, something that did not often happen within the halls of the gods. Their eyes shone with awe and disbelief at the splendor before them, their laughter mixing with the divine chorus of Olympus. Even those who had once doubted Aeolus' worth, who had scoffed at his dreams of greatness, now looked upon him with admiration and reverence.

But as all things do, the festivities eventually came to an end. The mortals were escorted back to their homes, their memories of Olympus forever etched into their minds. Aeolus' mother stayed a little longer, unwilling to part from her son too soon, but eventually, she too returned to her world, though with the knowledge that she was welcome here always.

As Olympus returned to its usual state, I too returned to my own responsibilities. The Underworld did not wait, and the expansion of my domain had taken up much of my focus. However, it was not long before I found myself pulled into yet another ambitious endeavor—this time, one spearheaded by none other than my brother, Poseidon.

He came to me one day, his usual overbearing confidence tempered with something else—an unmistakable sense of envy. He had seen the Aidonians, my devoted followers, the mortals who had pledged themselves to my worship, and he had taken notice. Poseidon had never been one to sit idle while another gained something he lacked, and so he presented to me a plan—one that had clearly been in the making for some time.

With a flourish, he unveiled a vision of a grand city, one unlike anything seen before. He spoke of towers that would gleam beneath the sun, of streets paved with shimmering stone, of a civilization that would surpass all others in wisdom, strength, and ingenuity. A city that would not simply worship him but would embody his power in every way.

Atlantis.

It was an impressive vision, I would admit, though I had no doubt that much of his motivation stemmed from a desire to match what I had built with the Aidonians. Still, it was an ambitious goal, and one that, if realized, could indeed stand as a marvel among mortals. But such a city would not build itself, and for that, he required my assistance.

More specifically, he required the aid of the Elder Cyclopes—Brontes, Arges, and Steropes, the master craftsmen of the gods, the very ones who had forged the mighty weapons of Olympus.

"Brother," Poseidon began, leaning forward with that winning smirk of his, "you of all people should understand the importance of building something that lasts. The Aidonians have become your devoted followers, but why should you be the only one to have such a privilege?"

I raised an eyebrow. "I hardly claim exclusivity, Poseidon. It is common knowledge that mortals worship us, if you want to have your own group of mortals, I will not tell you no. Must you always seek to match whatever I create?"

"Match?" He scoffed, feigning offense. "Hardly. I seek to surpass."

Of course, he did.

He continued, detailing the intricacies of his grand design—how Atlantis would be built above the waters of the Atlantic, how it would thrive under his protection, how it would become a beacon of progress for both mortals and gods alike. It was ambitious, certainly, but it was not without merit.

And so, after some deliberation, I agreed to allow him to borrow the Elder Cyclopes, though I made it clear that their services were not his to keep indefinitely.

With that settled, I returned my attention to my own plans. The Underworld was ever-growing, and with it, my responsibilities. I had long been considering further expansions to my realm, and more specifically, to the beings that resided within it. The Nephilim, the hybrid offspring of mortals and divine beings, had been an intriguing experiment, one that had proven far more successful than I had anticipated. Now, I found myself pondering the possibilities of further refinement, of selecting mortals who would be worthy of such an honor.

With that matter settled, I returned to my own projects. There were always more plans to be hatched, more designs to be implemented, and the work never seemed to end. I had grand ambitions to expand the realm of monsters, providing them with new environments to inhabit, more terrain where they could thrive and grow. The vision in my mind was vast—lush forests for the forest-dwelling creatures, endless caverns for the subterranean beasts, and grand skies filled with the most monstrous and majestic creatures of all. Alongside that, I was continuing my efforts to perfect my Nephilims, crafting them with a level of detail that would make even the gods take notice. They were my masterpieces, after all.

But as the months and years passed, I found myself thinking more and more about adding a new element to my creations: humans. It wasn't that I had grown tired of the monsters—they were magnificent—but there was something about humanity that intrigued me. They were so fleeting, so delicate, yet capable of extraordinary things. Perhaps it was time to refine that creation as well, to give them something they hadn't had before, something new that could stir the old echoes of life into their veins. But such matters required time, and in the grand scheme of things, time was something I had in abundance.

And so, with my mind often wandering to the next project, I went about my daily affairs. For a while, all seemed well in my corner of existence. The Nephilims grew, the monsters thrived, and my creations stood as monuments to my will. The Underworld was peaceful, as usual, with only the occasional ripple caused by the actions of some of my more unruly subjects. But that was always manageable.

Then, one day, my duties took me to Olympus. It wasn't uncommon for me to visit the realm of the gods, though I preferred to stay away from the more chaotic and noisy events they often held. It was on this occasion, however, that I walked into an unexpected scene. I had intended to conduct a rather simple meeting with Hermes regarding some trade agreements between our realms, but as I passed through the corridors, I overheard voices.

At first, I thought nothing of it. Olympus was, after all, a busy place, and gods had their own private affairs. Hera and Aeolus, I noticed, were merely talking, standing by a balcony where the wind played with the folds of their cloaks. Nothing particularly unusual about that. But then, as I glanced closer, I caught a glimpse of something that made me stop dead in my tracks.

They kissed.

It wasn't just a fleeting peck—it was a full, passionate kiss. For a moment, I just stood there, stunned, not quite sure what to make of it. Hera and Aeolus? I had never suspected. Sure, they were both strong-willed, independent beings, but their affection for each other seemed out of place. Hera, as proud and regal as she was, and Aeolus, always so... unpredictable. It didn't fit with what I thought I knew of them.

I barely managed to stifle my laughter, not wanting to reveal myself just yet. The idea of Hera—who was usually so composed—engaging in such a secret affair was both surprising and oddly amusing. Silently, I moved along, deciding it best to let them have their little secret. They were gods, after all, and secrecy was nothing new to them. 

As I went about my business in Olympus, the image lingered in my mind. I continued to meet with various deities and conduct my affairs, but I couldn't shake the thought of Hera and Aeolus, hiding their relationship like it was something to be ashamed of. In time, I found myself discussing it with my siblings, casually bringing it up in conversation as if it were just another passing curiosity.

To my surprise, I wasn't the first to stumble upon their little secret. Each of my siblings had caught them at different moments. Some had seen them whispering in dark corners, others had caught brief glances, and one or two had even witnessed the kiss—though they were more discreet than I had been. The more I spoke to them, the more I realized that the relationship was a poorly kept secret. And yet, despite all the knowledge that had spread through the gods' network, Hera and Aeolus still seemed to cling to their secrecy.

I couldn't help but laugh. It was such a quintessentially human thing to do, and yet here were two gods, entangled in the same absurdity. They wanted privacy, wanted to keep their relationship a secret. Well, I thought, if that was what they wanted, I'd respect it—for now. I told the others not to say a word, to pretend they hadn't seen anything, and simply let them carry on with their charade. It was almost like a game, a little drama that added a touch of humor to the otherwise predictable rhythm of our lives.

But as much as I found their secrecy amusing, I couldn't help but wonder about the nature of their relationship. Why were they hiding it? What was so scandalous about their bond that they felt the need to keep it from the others? In the end, it didn't matter to me—after all, we were gods, free to pursue whatever we wished. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story than they let on. But for the time being, I decided to leave it alone, to allow them their mystery. After all, not every secret needed to be uncovered. Not even in Olympus.