A Second Encounter with the Abyss

Unlike her confident handmaidens, Tyche did not believe her son would surely triumph over Poseidon.

In the goddess's eyes, the ocean's essence was more attuned to Poseidon, who bore pure dominion over the seas. Though Kannas had inherited her climatic divinity, he remained essentially a wind deity subordinate to the sky, forever separated by a veil from the primal heart of the sea.

Just as Tyche herself, as goddess of climate, wielded authority over the heavens, yet the sky's primordial essence welcomed her only partially—Uranus still remained shielded by the domain of the sky until its divine aspect was fully hers to command.

The best outcome Tyche envisioned was for Kannas and Poseidon to jointly hold the dominion over tidal catastrophes. Much like the wealth dominion she wrested from Hades, once Kannas claimed the dominion of calamities, the former rule over tsunamis would no longer be essential; relinquishing it would become an acceptable sacrifice.

A restless unease stirred within Tyche. The age of Olympus drew near. To the new gods led by Zeus, the mighty Titans were but succulent morsels dangling before ravenous wolves—few among the original twelve deities met anything but ruin! Simply retiring into obscurity was already a stroke of fortune; many Titans were cast into Tartarus, condemned to eternal imprisonment.

Even those second-generation Titans who sided with Olympus seldom escaped misfortune. Zeus's twin offspring seized the dominions of sun and moon from their former holders; Metis, goddess of wisdom, was swallowed whole, while her daughter endured a period of suspicion and restraint. Prometheus the Forethinker was chained atop a mountain, his liver endlessly devoured by an eagle.

Tyche had initially intended to remain neutral. The birth of the Crystal Sphere and her mastery over the Weave ensured her sovereignty over the skies; to the world, she was an irreplaceable force.

But what of the lesser gods? What of Kannas and Helios? These bonds, so difficult to sever, filled Tyche with deep concern.

Shrouded beneath the cover of night and mist, the anxious goddess slipped quietly into the northern mountains, where the anguished cries of the fallen still echoed from the abyss below.

Gazing into the formless darkness, Tyche spoke in a low voice: "Lord Tartarus, grant me audience."

Amidst the howls of tortured giants, the abyss exuded a strange, pure serenity—an absurd thought that momentarily unsettled the goddess. Before she could compose herself, she realized she had already plunged into the depths of the void.

Drifting through absolute nothingness, she looked about in mild alarm, as though time had reversed and she wandered once more through the primeval chaos.

Within this meaningless emptiness, time and space lost all power, becoming indistinguishable and unbound.

How long passed, she could not tell. Her heart thudded anxiously when, at last, a vast visage emerged from the darkness.

Only then did she realize she had been standing upon the palm of the abyss itself. The burning, sorrowful eyes of Tartarus fixed upon her.

Yet now, Tyche felt no urgency. She lifted her gaze to meet the abyss in steady contemplation before declaring firmly: "Lord Tartarus, perhaps we may find common ground!"

Silence reigned, heavy with oppressive might, pressing down upon her like an immovable mountain. Resolute, Tyche summoned her celestial power, conjuring a shimmering shield veined with the faint outline of the Crystal Sphere—its glow faltered and trembled under the raw presence of a Primordial Deity.

Apparently satisfied with Tyche's composure, Tartarus gradually revealed his towering form before her.

The consciousness born from the prisoners' fear and agony was too extreme—when the abyss finally spoke, it sounded like a terrible shriek, fragmented and incomprehensible.

However, Tartarus's subsequent movement reassured Tyche. She knew—the abyss had accepted her proposal.

Darkness parted, offering the goddess a path forward. Gracefully, she followed its guidance and soon beheld the Cyclopes gathered around a fire.

Quietly observing the giants collecting splintered wood from the fissures, carefully tending the flames, Tyche murmured, "You must have noticed as well. These simple-minded giants offer you little emotion indeed."

Silence reigned all around, yet Tyche sensed the abyss lingered nearby, its very presence swallowing even the cries of the Hecatoncheires.

When no reply came, she let out a confident chuckle. "I will prove myself worthy of a pact with you. I only ask for your aid."

Once again, senseless wails rang in her ears. With great effort, Tyche endured the torment, striving to decipher the abyss's whispered madness.

"The subterranean realm born from the clash between abyss and earth—I require dominion over it. In return, I shall deliver unto you more captives."

The darkness churned soundlessly, revealing yet another path for the goddess.

Arriving at the massive rift where abyss and land warred, Tyche easily secured governance over the region.

Now sovereign over the dominion of subterranean waters, Tyche channeled streams into the chasm, forming a wide river. For the first time, signs of life appeared in this battlefield between abyss and land.

From the naiad Vivian of the lake, Tyche retrieved a shard of divinity. Fused with half of her own fate-aspect, its potency became formidable. She cast the now-complete essence into the river, and from its waters arose a goddess with black hair and dark eyes. Tyche bestowed upon her the dominion of secrets. The two goddesses exchanged knowing smiles before the newborn deity vanished beneath the surface, fading from sight.

Unlike the two temperature aspects of Tyche—mere fragments lacking independent awareness—this newly arisen goddess, though not formally ascended, had received a portion of fate separate from her origin, making her nearly a deity in her own right.

The crevice lay silent, save for the barely perceptible flicks of fish tails.

A gleam shone in Tyche's eyes as she accepted from Tartarus a key formed from the essence of the abyss itself. Transforming the token of dominion into a scepter, she confidently opened a portal back to her island temple.

Her attendants gasped in shock upon seeing their awakened mistress—her countenance even paler than before her slumber.

This time, truly wounded, Tyche made no pretense of unconsciousness. Summoning Kannas through the goddess of rainbows, she softly instructed the wind god to invite both the sun and moon deities to the Isle of the Unseen.

Kannas's first reaction was not concern for his mother's frailty, but surprise at her initiative in inviting the sun god.

Helios, ever upright, had never entered Tyche's domain. On the rare occasions he approached, it was only to protect the solitary wind god.

Though puzzled, the swift god of the hunt hastened to the eastern temple without delay.

Selene, equally astonished, questioned hesitantly, "Did Lady Tyche truly summon me as well?"

At Kannas's confirming nod, the aloof moon goddess frowned slightly, turning in bewilderment toward her brother. Helios himself could not fathom Tyche's intent. After a moment's contemplation, he bade the wind god return ahead while he followed shortly after.

Kannas mounted his winged steed and vanished into the morning sky. Eos, goddess of dawn, hurried to harness her siblings' chariots, when Selene reached for the reins—only to be halted by her mother's hushed but firm command.

The radiant goddess emerged from behind the temple halls, gazing toward the horizon where Kannas had disappeared, murmuring, "All gods know that the herald of the Sky Goddess is served by the two Rainbow Goddesses. Why send Kannas with this message?"

Moon and dawn exchanged puzzled glances before turning to their mother, who seemed lost in thought. Gently, Eos ventured, "Perhaps it was a gesture of familiarity—to have the wind god, once guided by Helios, deliver the summons."

Helios frowned in sudden realization. "She does not wish to see me." He turned toward his astonished sister. "Selene, it is you she seeks. I am merely the veil to shield her true intent from prying eyes."

Thea smiled knowingly. "It seems this goddess truly has urgent matters to discuss with you both."

Still bewildered, Selene heeded her mother's advice and cloaked herself within her brother's golden radiance as they made their way to the Isle of the Unseen.

Veils of mist parted to guide the sun god's path, and understanding their purpose, Helios dimmed his glow to avoid the watchful eyes of Tyche's attendants.

Tyche had long awaited them upon the northern cliffs. The sun god halted his chariot, stepping down with his sister to stand before the goddess.

"I knew Lady Thea would understand my meaning," Tyche greeted them with a smile. "Welcome to the Isle of the Unseen."

Her handmaidens had been discreetly sent away on various errands, unable to reach the cliffside for some time. Those who glimpsed the sun god's arrival naturally assumed their mistress was meeting a lover—and none were foolish enough to interrupt such an affair.

"I shall speak plainly, Lady Selene," Tyche continued, eyes gleaming with amusement. "There is a matter in which I require your aid."

Seeing the moon goddess frown, she added, "This concerns not only myself, but also your own fate."

"Selene," she leaned in slightly, voice low and earnest, "perhaps I can help you ascend to the rank of a Greater Power."

The moon goddess gasped, and even Helios looked startled. Satisfied with their reactions, Tyche pressed on. "As one of the Keepers of Stillness, surely you know where to find Hypnos?"

"Hypnos?" Selene's expression darkened. "He often stirs beneath my light—I have crossed paths with him more than once."

Clasping her hands in delight, Tyche grew solemn. "I swear upon my Fate Aspect that I do not deceive you."

"This task requires not only your aid, but also the children of Nyx."

"I understand," Selene replied without hesitation. "I will contact him."

"You possess the resolve of your mother and the courage of the sun himself," Tyche praised. "If our plan succeeds, the thrones of the Radiant Sovereigns may pass to you both."

"I have already instructed Kannas to keep silent. I ask you both to do the same—we cannot afford any disruptions!"

Both deities nodded gravely, their eyes alight with anticipation.

Calm and composed, Tyche fixed her gaze upon Selene. "I need you to divide a fragment of your lunar essence and bind it with the divine aspect of stillness—to birth a new Moon."

Selene nodded firmly. "Is that all?"

"I will also require a thread of pure lunar divinity interwoven with darkness."

A flicker of hesitation crossed Selene's face. "I do not hold dominion over darkness."

"But your companion Leto is more than willing to assist."

Tyche offered a gentle reassurance to the uneasy goddess. "Proud Selene, seeking aid from a friend does not diminish your brilliance. Our time is short."

Soothing the goddess's discomfort, she then turned to Helios. "When Selene is occupied, you must guide the Moon's chariot in her stead."

Without hesitation, Helios agreed, his gaze lingering upon Tyche with unmistakable admiration.

Now it was Tyche's turn to feel awkward, and she ended the exchange with a polite cough.

After thanking Helios for the offerings he had brought during her 'slumber,' Tyche bade farewell to the luminous pair. Reluctantly, the sun god departed under his sister's insistent urging.

Selene acted swiftly. That very night, Tyche welcomed the winged god of slumber once more.

The offspring of Nyx could not tread upon the earth, and their elder siblings—Aether and Hemera—guarded the Sky Dominion so fiercely precisely to secure a sanctuary for their younger kin.

Hypnos's delicate features bore an ethereal beauty unlike the mighty Helios. His dark eyes, inherited from his parents, remained veiled in a perpetual haze of melancholy.

As the second-born twin after his brother Thanatos, Hypnos shared a subtle bond with death; the aged drift into eternal rest through sleep, while the dead are granted an unending dream.

"Welcome, Lord Hypnos," Tyche greeted him warmly. As the deity presiding over Sleep, Dreams, and Wandering, Hypnos commanded great respect among the pantheon despite his intermediate rank.

Naturally, Tyche did not dare treat him lightly, appearing in person to honor his presence.

"Thank you for your invitation, Lady Tyche," Hypnos murmured, blinking drowsily as he straightened his rumpled black cloak—clearly roused from slumber moments before.

"The Earth Mother denies us access to her domain, so we dwell instead within the dreams of mortals."

Rubbing his eyes, he appeared momentarily more alert.

"I believe I can offer you and your kin a home," Tyche declared.

At this, Hypnos's clouded gaze sharpened.

"The Ever-Luminous Sky is no haven for your kind. Save for Aether and Hemera, the world-encircling sun weakens the protection of your mother, leaving you vulnerable."

With a knowing smile, Tyche gestured, opening a portal and leading the sleep god and moon goddess into the subterranean rift.

The mingling forces of abyss and earth repelled neither god, neutralizing the land's hostility while softening the abyss's corruption.

Hypnos marveled at the shadowed realm, while Selene, under Tyche's guidance, summoned forth a pale silver moon. Its gentle glow shimmered across the underground waters, casting a tranquil luminescence.

The moon hung suspended in the cavern's void, its hue tinged with a faint amber from residual abyssal influence.

A spectral Lunar Dominion materialized in Selene's grasp—an unfamiliar power distinct from her existing lunar essence. This newborn divinity pulsed with serene energy, modest in strength yet brimming with potential. Selene's lips parted in delighted surprise.

But Tyche halted her attempt to fuse the two aspects, offering a meaningful warning: "Do not rush. This dominion may yet ascend further."