Hestia' POV
Hestia. The only one amongst our siblings who remained relatively unscathed by the Olympian power struggles. Her presence here, in Cronus' belly, was no mystery, but her power, the gentle warmth of the hearth, could prove invaluable in creating a semblance of normalcy within this infernal prison. Pushing aside the temptation of the test, I decided to act. With a mental command, I materialized beside the crater, my form shifting from a solid entity to a swirling cloud of obsidian smoke before solidifying once again.
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A throbbing pain pulsed in my head, a counterpoint to the dull ache spreading through my entire body. The world came into focus slowly, blurry at first, then sharpening with agonizing clarity. The air was thick and heavy, filled with the scent of sulfur and something acrid. Panic clawed at my throat. Where was I? What happened?
Memories flooded back in a torrent – the desperate shrieks of my mother, Rhea, the booming voice of my monstrous father, Cronus, and then the terrifying sensation of falling, falling for an eternity through a never-ending darkness. The crash, the pain, and then… nothing.
Clutching my throbbing head, I tried to sit up, only to wince as a wave of dizziness washed over me. I was in a vast cavern of some sort, the walls a glistening black like polished obsidian. The ground was uneven, littered with jagged rocks. As I took stock of my surroundings, the memory of my mother's screams intensified the panic. Was she here too? Had Cronus swallowed her as well?
A sudden shift behind me shattered the oppressive silence. My head snapped up, a gasp catching in my throat. A tall figure stood a few paces away, cloaked in a black robe that seemed to absorb the dim light filtering through the cavern. He was young, with dark hair that fell to his neck in loose waves, his face handsome, but etched with a weariness that seemed to go beyond his years. But it was his eyes that truly sent shivers down my spine. They were dark, an endless well of black, yet within them glowed embers of a fiery red. It wasn't just the color, though, it was the power. Just a glance at his eyes, and I could feel it radiating from him, a raw, primal power that both terrified and mesmerized me.
For a moment, I found myself lost in those burning eyes, my world reduced to that single point of power. Then, his voice cut through the fog. "It seems you've had enough rest."
He spoke in a deep, rumbling voice, a voice that held the echoes of the cavern itself. I tore my gaze away from his eyes, the force of his presence overwhelming. My own hand instinctively went to the hearthstone pendant around my neck, a source of comfort amidst the overwhelming darkness.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I forced myself to speak. "Who are you? Where am I?" My voice came out shaky, betraying the fear churning within me.
He gave a humorless smile, a flicker of something like sympathy crossing his features. "I am Hades," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle for someone radiating such power. "Firstborn of Cronus and Rhea, and your older brother."
A wave of disbelief washed over me. Hades? My brother, swallowed by our father as a babe? But then, the memories flooded back, the stories whispered amongst the gods. Cronus, the Titan who feared his children and devoured them whole in a bid to retain his power. And I, Hestia, the eldest daughter, also swallowed by him.
"Hestia," I confirmed, my voice trembling slightly. "Goddess of the Hearth." My brother, a being of such raw power, looked down at me with an unreadable expression.
"Hestia," he echoed, his voice losing some of its initial rumble. "Just Hades is fine."
I nodded slowly, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Where were we? What had happened to our mother, Rhea? Taking another deep breath, I found the courage to ask.
"Hades," I began, forcing the fear from my voice, "where are we? And what… what happened to Mother?"
He stared at me for a long moment, his dark eyes seeming to bore into me. A flicker of something – pain? regret? – crossed his features before he schooled his expression back into stoicism.
"This is Cronus' prison," he finally said, his voice low and heavy. "A realm carved from his own flesh, designed to hold us captive. Here, our divine powers are… muted. Suppressed by the very essence of this place."
My heart plummeted. Suppressed? How was that possible? We were gods, children of the Titans, wielders of immense power. How could our father hold that back?
"He feeds on our fear," Hades continued, his words laced with bitterness. "Our pain. This harsh environment, the constant threat, it all serves to weaken us, both physically and mentally. Even if we manage to tap into some of our divinity, the very fabric of this realm resists its use. It's a twisted training ground, forcing us to adapt, to channel our power in ways we never anticipated."
Hestia couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her brother. Decades trapped in this desolate prison, his power suppressed, forced to adapt and survive. "How long have you been here?" she asked, her voice soft.
Hades looked away, a shadow crossing his features. "Time has no meaning here," he replied. "No sunrise, no sunset. But by my estimation… a decade, perhaps two."
A decade. Two. The vastness of that timeframe settled on Hestia's shoulders like a physical weight. She couldn't imagine enduring such an existence for a day, let alone years.
"Here," Hades said, conjuring a brown robe similar to his own. The material seemed to shift and adjust as it materialized, appearing surprisingly thick and protective. "This will help with the heat and the harshness of this place."
Hestia reached out cautiously and took the robe, surprised by its warmth and weight. "But how are you able to use your abilities?" she asked, a flicker of hope igniting in her chest. If Hades could tap into his power, perhaps there was a way for her to as well.
"It took time," he said vaguely, his gaze distant. "Before I broke the seal on it, so to speak. Then, it was just training." Training. The word held a wealth of unspoken hardship within it.
Hestia felt a pang of guilt for her earlier judgment. Despite the harshness in his voice and the coldness in his eyes, she sensed a genuine desire to help her. "Thank you," she said sincerely, taking a deep breath. "I understand it hasn't been easy."
He gave a curt nod, his expression unreadable. "Welcome to your new home, sister," he said, a touch of formality in his voice. "We begin your training soon, to help you unlock your own divinity."
Hestia steeled herself despite the lingering fear his eyes still instilled. There wasn't a hint of warmth in his welcome, but something about him – a flicker of protectiveness, perhaps – gave her a sliver of hope. With a timid nod, she watched as the small hut she'd assumed they were in began to expand before her eyes. It grew wider, taller, the walls solidifying into smooth obsidian with an almost polished sheen. In a blink, it transformed from a cramped refuge to a small, well-proportioned dwelling.
"Get comfortable," Hades said, a hint of something that might have been kindness in his eyes. Then, with a last glance towards the cavern entrance, he turned and vanished into a swirl of dark smoke.
Hestia sank onto the makeshift bed that had materialized within the new home, her mind a whirlwind. She couldn't help but notice that Hades hadn't revealed anything about himself or his own powers. He was an enigma, cloaked in darkness and untold stories. A cold wall seemed to surround him, a stark contrast to her own fiery domain.
Despite the fear that still lingered, a small smile touched Hestia's lips. Her brother, for all his coldness, was her only companion in this desolate realm. Perhaps, together, they could find a way to survive and eventually escape this prison. Looking around their new home, a spark of determination ignited within her. It was time to explore and learn. This might be a prison, but it was also their new reality, and Hestia, goddess of the hearth, wouldn't let it extinguish their hope.
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Chapter Length- 1,361 Words
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