7 Fool

Hera didn't say anything, descending onto the balcony to stand beside him, both looking out at the world below. Their hands met the cool touch of the marble railing, bathed in the fading light of the setting sun.

The setting sun was brilliant and nostalgic against their youthful forms, reminiscent of the one they had witnessed after the end of the Titanomachy.

One that signified the end of an era.

The silence between them stretched, neither of them eager to break it. Zeus wanted to discuss it, to confront the looming uncertainty, but the weight of putting words to an impending end gave him pause. Was he letting fear and doubt run wild? After everything, Hera wouldn't just end their marriage, would she?

As if.

She could end it completely.

Regardless, Zeus steeled himself. "So?" he asked the question again, his voice resonating like thunder in the stormy clouds, carrying a million nuances.

Hera turned to Zeus, her brown eyes bright and clear and sharp. "You are not my Zeus," she emphasised once again, with absolute certainty.

"Yes," Zeus confirmed. "I am not your Zeus."

That was the truth, at the end of the day. He was no longer the Zeus she had loved and married, the one who had betrayed her countless times.

"You know," Hera chuckled wryly, her gaze returning to the twilight sun. "Your transformation forced me to confront a truth I had hopelessly ignored." She closed her fingers and drew in a shuddering breath, still avoiding his gaze. "My marriage had been shattered long ago. There had been no love in my heart for a millennia. I had simply been deluding myself, holding onto the belief that there might be hope. Hope that something, anything, could mend my heart and make it all worthwhile. I know I'm such a fool." She laughed, but there was no mirth, just a sad and fractured sound.

Like shards of broken glass, stabbing into Zeus' heart. He longed to speak, to utter words of anger, of sorrow, of comfort and assurance—anything. But with great effort, he restrained himself, allowing her to finish in full.

Hera went on, her hands falling from the railing as she moved away. "I loved him at first. So much. I hate to admit it, but I truly did." She exhaled, finally meeting his eyes, confronting them.

"And now he is gone, and all I feel is relief beyond measure. It should appall me," she pointed at her heart. "Whatever it may be, he was my husband, but I accepted the revelation with ease, relieved that I was finally free from him. That made me confront the truth, that made me realise that this marriage was broken beyond measure."

She held his gaze, her hand rising to touch his cheek, her eyes glistening with great conflict. "I should really cut off the last string that holds this marriage and end it all together, but you, this stranger in his skin, with his face, with his heart, with his love, you…" she trailed off, taking a breath.

Zeus grasped her hand on his cheek. "I understand." He pulled her hand down, gently squeezing them, his electric blue eyes locked onto hers, unwilling to let go of the last thread. "I won't make empty promises because I know we are well beyond that, but I will try to give you a new life, one that you deserved from the very beginning. I am willing to start over, to do it right this time. I am willing to mend what was shattered, to fight for it. This is my decision, but if yours is different, I respect that." He said those certain words even though his heart broke at even the possibility. "After all, we are in a marriage. Your opinion matters as much as mine, even if it's about the end of it all."

Hera immediately asked, sharp and direct and vehement. "Then do you want to end it all?"

Zeus was taken aback, then a raw and genuine smile crept upon his lips. "Of course not."

Hera looked at Zeus in a moment that seemed to stretch on, her face inscrutable and her eyes filled with power. Zeus' heart sank and surged in a tidal wave of anxiety.

But just then, Hera exhaled in burning defeat. "I am such a fool," she grasped the collars of his suit and pulled him close. As the last ray of sun faded, their lips met in embers of an ended era.

Zeus's eyes widened, his heart soaring toward the heavens. For a moment, it all seemed surreal, but the sweetness and lightness of her lips shattered any illusion, revealing the heavenly reality. He pressed in, and their tongues met, lost in each other's embrace. They were falling apart, piece by piece, in their bodies, in their hair, in between their fingers, in their hearts—melding into each other in the blissful moment they had never known before.

And then, they abruptly pulled apart, breathless and disheveled. The balcony they were standing on was a broken mess, the walls, statues, and table in cracks and pieces. The air was thick with terrifying power, vibrating through the fabric of reality. Stormy clouds covered the sky as far as the eye could see, lightning and winds roaring through it all.

They stood facing each other in the midst of it all, his hands still on her cheeks and hers on his. They looked around at the aftermath, sharing a silent, hushed laugh meant only for their ears. And when the breaths they drew ran out and their laughter died down, he looked into her eyes and spoke with absolute certainty.

"You are no fool. Not anymore. Not under my watch. I will see to it."

Hera smiled, a genuine smile that reached her ears. "I hope so."

The chaos they had caused vanished with a flick of his fingers, and he drew her into his embrace, savouring her warmth. She leaned into him, resting her head on his chest, her ears attuned to the thundering beat of his heart.

"You are still so nervous," Hera observed, her eyes fixed on him, her fingers tracing patterns on his back.

"Of course," Zeus replied, his hands gently stroking her hair. "We are starting anew. I don't want to make any mistakes this time. There is much to do. Much to discuss. Much to unravel. If we're really going to make this work."

Hera looked up at him, her hands on him tightening. "Me too. No more mistakes." She chuckled wryly. "And we do have a lot to unravel, don't we? I don't think even a year would be enough."

"Then thank Gaea!" Zeus laughed, a deep and rumbling sound. "We are immortal. An eternity ahead of us."

"Yes," Hera leaned against him again, listening to his heartbeat, "An eternity ahead…" her voice was almost defiant, infused with a hope that had long been buried.

They began right after, words flowing like a clear and unending stream, unraveling their thoughts and memories. They delved into the days of Titanomachy, the brutal, blood-soaked battles etched into their very souls. They shared stories infused with hope and despair, drenched in ichor. Of how they laughed, of how they dared, of how they dreamed. They recalled moments when their mother gathered them and their siblings beneath a sky full of stars, spinning tales of the boundless cosmos.

"We were so daring and foolish back then," Hera chuckled wryly, sipping nectar as the stars shimmered above, steeped in reminiscence.

"I remember my ultimate goal being to dethrone Yahweh and become the King of the Universe," Zeus said nostalgically, shaking his head at the absurd memory.

"You still proclaimed yourself as such though," Hera pointed out, smiling at his sulky self.

"Ah, that I did." Zeus nodded, all traces of humour fading away. "A audacious and blasphemous proclamation yet it was one of things I still don't regret at all." Even after he paid the price for it at the end of Age of Gods.

Hera's smile faded.

The words continued flowing, sonorous amidst their laughs and chuckles, their scoffs and scowls, their grimaces and pouts. They talked about the changes of the world, of Greatness of Greece to the Reckoning of Modern world. They were too much cover in the millennia in-between, but they still tried, focusing on the better times, of better changes they brought to the world.

"Speak of changes," Zeus raised the goblet to his lips, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he gauged her reaction. "I'm thinking of turning Camp Half-Blood into a city."

"What?!" Hera's eyes snapped to Zeus, her tone laced with offence.

"Hera." Zeus shrugged nonchalantly. "They deserve it. The demigods have been through a lot for us—"

"You," Hera interrupted with a scoff. "You and the other Olympians. Not for me."

"Oh, come on, Hera." Zeus shot back dryly. "We both know why that is."

"Fine, fine." Hera snorted. "But can you blame me? Why would I want to entrust my very important tasks to a bunch of little bastards—"

Zeus rolled his eyes.

"Do not roll your eyes at me, Zeus." Hera scoffed.

"Anyway." Zeus moved on. "You get my point; the demigods have done a lot for us, and will continue to do so. A city is the least we could do to make their accursed lives easier."

Hera stared at Zeus. "You really have changed."

"I thought l made the fact was pretty clear." Zeus took the last sip of nectar, placing the goblet on the table.

"Still…" Hera trailed off, her unspoken implications so deafening they don't need words to give them forms.

Zeus merely smiled, then snapped his fingers, conjuring up a dinner on the table between then. From Chicken Risotto to Strawberry Tart —a perfect date night lighted of scented candles from China. "So how about we continue delving into more of my new mysteries, but with good food and sweet incense?"

"A perfect date, it is." Hera smiled, grabbing the knife and fork from the table, her eyes savouring the sight of the dishes.

They delved into it, and within the first bits, Hera pointed her fork at Zeus. "I still don't like your idea, though." She put forward her opinion. "Nothing wrong with it, but the existence of demigods itself a blasphemy to me," her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Most of them are bastards," her tone contained no heart, just blandness, a statement, an assertion of fact. "You can't honestly expect me to like any of it."

"I didn't ask you like it though." Zeus pointed out, a piece of steak cut into his fork. "But still, isn't it part of life to do things we sometimes may not like?"

Hera stared at Zeus, her eyes glistening with painful memories long past, but she shook her head with a smile. "Don't get all philosophical on me, Zeus," she emphasised, but then conceded with great reluctance. "But—but, fine. You have my support."

Zeus smiled amusedly, much to her dismay. And they continued with words, amidst sweet aromas and grand incenses, filled with mirth and bliss, sorrow and love. They talked of the grand times, of a time when Olympus stood high above all, free from any taint, stain, and chain. Of how they laughed and lived and celebrated without care. Of how the winds carried their laughter, untamed and wild, across the sacred peaks. Of how their hearts beat to the rhythm of an unburdened existence, every pulse a declaration of their unbound spirits. Of how they danced on marble floors, the music a symphony of liberation. Of how they stood tall, unyielding in the face of adversity, their spines straight, their souls unchained.

Of how they fell as high as they rose.

Hera and Zeus were silent as the words were lost in their tongues, their eyes fixed on bright stars. "So Jupiter?" Hera broke the silence in tension and conflict, her face twisting in pain, but she marched on, suppressing the split within her and addressing one of the elephants in the room. "What about the Roman split? Is he still there?"

"Jupiter wasn't me. He was Roman's," Zeus said simply, with an ease that shook her heart. "All that remained after the change is only me," he said with certainty, looking at her with a tilted head in sorrow. "Still, what happened to us, what happened to all Gods, was the highest blasphemy. An utter degradation of divinity." He looked to the sides, at the mortal world below. "It wasn't us. Any of it. It wasn't us at all. Just the perception mortals have of us in their minds, brought to form and imposed on us." He confessed, his voice wilful and wondrous. "Syncretism. I feel there is more to that than meets the eye. I will find the solution, the truth. Nothing happens without a reason, a cause."

This is a world with beings who can play with the fundamental rules of Cosmos like a toy, after all.

Hera blinked her misty eyes, extending her hand to grasp his. "We will," she said unwaveringly.

Zeus smiled at her, one of indulgence and bliss. "We will."

Time passed. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes stretched into hours. And they talked until they could talk no longer. The stars were fading and the night was brightening. Yet they hadn't even unraveled a fraction of their lives, and an eternity awaited them ahead. As the first ray of sun graced the world, their lips met again in the Dawn of a New Age.

"We should renew our vows, Zeus."

"Oh?"

"I mean, after everything."

"Of course, of course."

"Where should we have the ceremony?"

"In the cosmos?"

"Amidst billions of stars?"

""Perfect.""

———————

These past days had been full of surprises. Tyche mulled over the impossible chances. She was the Goddess of Chance, Luck, Fortune, and Success. Surprises were foreign to her. Yet here she was, taken away by surprise after surprise.

Fate itself had gone to hell. The cosmic tapestry woven by the three Fates was unraveling, their masterpieces crumbling into the graveyard of impossibility and randomness.

It was a sight to see. Tyche got a great pleasure from hearing the Fates' screams of shock and disbelief, carried on the winds of Destiny. Those uptight bitches finally got what was coming to them!

The cause of it all, she highly suspected, was Zeus. After all, the timing of his transformation was just too coincidental. And let me tell you, as the Goddess of Chance, coincidences? There was no thing as such.

The change in Zeus was indeed intriguing. Gods were entirely capable of change, despite what her foolish father might claim. Just look at Poseidon. He was the best example. At first glance, you'd never guess he was the same ruthless and tyrannical Sea Lord from the old tales. Now he's more like a weathered fisherman, easygoing and chill.

Poseidon's change happened over centuries, but Zeus'? It seemed to have occurred overnight, and that in itself was an anomaly. To add to the mystery, if the rumours were to be believed, Zeus had changed for the better, FOR BETTER! Could you believe that? Even she couldn't. She was just as blind as everyone else in this matter. With the chaos of fate, it had become much harder to scry into the paths, especially into the momental paths that were set to define the future. All of it was in disarray. An ocean of randomness. She didn't even try to pry into the path of Zeus because she already could see the futility ahead.

Despite everything, Tyche didn't fret. As the Goddess of Chance, she could sense when the greatest opportunity was unfolding. The rigid chains that bound everything were slowly breaking, crumbling in a heavenly symphony. How could she ever worry about something she had longed for, something so inherently beautiful?

Freedom.

Randomness.

Change.

All the possibilities finally within her reach, yet she had to be cautious with every step, wary of letting hubris become her undoing like it had for so many before her. The Fates may have fallen into silence, but Destiny still loomed, as formidable and all-encompassing as ever. Nothing could escape his sightless eyes, not even randomness, for even that was a part of him.

Yet Tyche yearned. She longed for a true and pure impossibility, one that wasn't etched or recorded, one that was not pre-determined or fated from the very beginning. An impossibility that could fulfill her and allow her to ascend, to seize the primordial throne from those uptight bitches.

Her dreams were vast and untamed, all tethered to the source that had thrown Fate into chaos: Zeus was the first and greatest suspect. She needed not only to see him but to observe him closely, to absolutely confirm her suspicion. That's where she hit a wall.

She regretted not paying much attention to the affairs of Olympus. They'd slapped her with the 'minor goddess' label, and she hadn't cared less about their criteria. Now, regret and hurt twisted inside her. Both her parents were Olympians, for Gaea's sake. You'd expect them to sing praises of their daughter's prowess, but who was she kidding? That was never gonna happen. They probably don't even know how much she had grown.

Though, even a minor goddess could wangle an audience with Zeus, but she knew that wouldn't cut it. And now, with Olympus in a mess like Fate, her chances were slim. Zeus had bigger matters to worry about than some nosy, low-ranking goddess. 'Take a number,' she imagined those before her sneering.

Tyche cursed herself. She was on the verge of swallowing her pride and calling up her foolish father for help. As always, he promised the brightest chances of success.

And lo and behold, her father showed up, and he brought with him a surprise that knocked her off her feet, straight into the heavenly realms.

Zeus had granted her a seat in his new advisory, directly involving her in the governance of Olympus. He really had changed for the better!

Tyche embraced her newfound position. It was mostly a win for her. The only drawback was that it would tie her to Olympus. Yet, considering the opportunities ahead, it was well worth the risk.

And that was how she found herself strolling through the winding corridors of the Main Palace of the Gods, perched high on Mount Olympus, heading for the inaugural meeting of the Sovereign Advisory.