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Percy Jackson : The Odyssey of a Primordial.

He used to think Death was the end. He was wrong. Death was but another beginning, a new adventure. Reborn into this strange and familiar world, he should have been dead, his soul fading into nothingness, but he found himself in a completely new existence. Now, as a Primordial instead of a human, he must find his place in this wondrous world. ————————— If you wish to support me and want to read advanced chapters: patreon.com/Eren_fraser

Eren_fraser · 書籍·文学
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42 Chs

Fairness

Death is neither scary or frightening, he is liberating. If you ask me, I'd say life is the true monster of this story.

—Ananse, God of Stories.

—————

The Lady of Remembrance couldn't believe it, or rather, she didn't want to believe it. She wished it was all a dream, which was cruelly ironic considering what was happening in front of her.

A god was being born from the dream of mortals!

The memories of the Akan tribe that entailed their god coalesced in the pool of Anameisis, sparking the birth of a divine dream, and through it, their imagination, belief, and prayers were realised, granting life to their fabricated god.

It was a miracle—a true miracle.

In the divine dream of the Akan tribe, a humanoid being with spider-like legs and hands emerged, bathed in divine light. He floated slowly towards Hypnos, his eyes closed tranquilly.

The Lord of Dream squinted at the surreal god. "You are Ananse, the Akan God of Stories, Knowledge, Wisdom, and Trickery," he declared solemnly, crowing the Akan spider god.

Ananse slowly opened his dark eyes, filled with divine vitality. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my creator," he said slyly to Hypnos.

Hypnos spoke lightly. "I am not your creator; I am just your realizer," he said, waving his hand towards the opened gate of Dreaming. "You may leave, Ananse, to serve your people, and then return back to Dreaming when they...." he trailed off, leaving the remaining truth to the assumptions of Ananse.

Ananse returned one last glance to the pool of his creation. Then he bowed to the Lord of Dream and nodded to the Lady of Remembrance before exiting Dreamland and beginning his journey back to his people.

Hypnos and Mnesmosyne stood silently as his spidery silhouette faded from the realm of fantasy to reality.

The Lord of Dream turned to face his terrified subordinate. "You know, Ananse wasn't entirely wrong when he referred to me as his creator." He looked at Mnesmosyne, seeing through her mortifying worries and existential doubts—bearing witness to the birth of a god from the dreams of mortals had made her to question everything. "The mortals may have imagined him, but it was I who brought him to life, ushering him from their imagination into our reality."

"You understand, right?" Hypnos patted her shoulders and cocked his head in expectation.

"Yes, my lord." Mnesmosyne nodded, her worries and doubts fading away with realisation. "You are the Dream. You always have the final say, never the Mortals."

"Put down your worries then." Hypnos said lightly, then strode off towards the door, his figure dissolving into starry light.

Mnesmosyne fixed her gaze on the drifting starlight. With the miracle, she somewhat learned a lot about the underlying workings of the cosmos, the most important of which was the power the mortals had over them—the immortals.

She clearly remembered her sister Themis telling her a story in which her lord reprimanded Hera, saying, 'You are born in dreams, and when all of them end, you will fade back into the embrace of chaos.'

The Lady of Remembrance finally understood the chilling and appealing truth behind his words. She could only imagine the horrifying possibilities entailed for them within that truth, but she stopped worrying herself, remembering the last words of her Lord.

Lord of Dream was there for her, and she cherished that more than anything else in her life, other than her children.

"Thank you..." Mnesmosyne bowed deeply, allowing her words to be carried away in the unreal winds of dreaming. Then she returned to the pool of Anameisis with the utmost care and attention to the rising dreams.

——————

"Thank you..."

Hypnos reclined in his silver throne as Mnesmosyne's whisper reverberated in the unreal winds, causing him to sigh emotionally.

Even though he expected this to happen, it was still somewhat surreal to actually witness the birth of a god from the dreams of mortals. It just amounted to proving how much immortals were susceptible to the faith, belief, and dreams of mortals. In light of all of this, he decided to attempt to curb the influence that mortals had on the gods.

There were many reasons and motives behind his decision, but what truly pushed him to make it was an emotional one.

Hera…

His beloved was a goddess, and as such, she was vulnerable to mortal conceptions in the long run. Hypnos never forgot that. This issue had been bothering him for many sleepless nights. He could indeed use his power to keep that from happening, but it wasn't a permanent or perfect solution.

And hell, even he could make mistakes.

Thus, he decided with finality—he would slowly restrain the aspect of faith that gave mortals immense power over the divine.

It wouldn't be an easy task, and he'd have to do it discreetly, without leaving any traces, since he suspected Heaven wouldn't be happy if they discovered the weakening of faith, which would give more freedom to the gods, something they wouldn't want to see happen.

As for how he was going to achieve this?

Imagination—one of the main domains connected to his concept. He was even crowned by Khaos as the Ethnarch of Unreality. If he were to extend more of his influence and control into the concept of imagination, this would have an indirect effect on faith or belief, because they were, after all, nothing more than aspects of imagination at their most rudimentary.

Hypnos sighed again, his chin in his hand. This would be a long and arduous endeavour in the end. However, it was not the only remedy he had for Hera's predicament.

There was another simple solution: Hera ascends to become the Primordial of Stars, which would render her completely immune to mortal faith/belief. This solution, however, was easier said than done.

It was not that he didn't believe in Hera, but the probabilities of success were so abysmal to the point he was forced to make his restriction of faith plan…

Hypnos thrummed his fingers on the armrest, restraining his thoughts and focusing on the holographic projections swirling around him, which showed the current situation of his opened realm.

He wasn't concerned about any sudden mishaps or problems arising in Dreaming because the order he established with his rules and regulations would more than suffice to nip any of them in the bud and keep his realm running smoothly on its own, but he still wanted to oversee it for the sake of certainty.

One projection immediately caught his attention: Nut and Geb, divine lovers, were expressing their utmost gratitude to him. When he was in Egypt, Nut made a request to him after finding out that he was the Lord of Dream. She inquired as to whether she would be able to rejoin her lover in his realm.

He did not grant her wish; instead, he simply stated the truth: you are free to do whatever you want in your dreams; Ra would not be able to hold you accountable.

Hypnos gazed at the projection of Geb and Nut for a moment before turning towards the next projection, continuing with his supervision of Dreaming in sombreness…

——————

A few hours earlier, Underworld.

A sombre aura began to fill the desolate and barren realm of the dead, emanating from a colossal black throne. It was surrounded by arriving deities, dameons, nymphs, sprits, and a plethora of extraordinary beings, all closely connected to the underworld. They restlessly crowded around the imposing throne, looking at it with a myriad of emotions.

Order was finally coming to their chaotic underworld. They could all feel it in their bones. And they were prepared to accept it with open arms since it was about time.

The Order in question took the form of a dark god, who was being embraced by his mother and sister on the opposite side of the underworld. They poured their hearts into their words, expressing their love and support.

The Dark God—Hades—repeatedly nodded to their words, but the gloom in his eyes remained, much to their dismay.

Just then, a flamboyant figure entered the hall, bringing complete silence with her appearance. Hades, Rhea, and Hestia stare in amazement at the all-too-familiar figure of Hera.

"Sister—"

"Daughter—"

The Titaness of Motherhood and the Goddess of Hearth uttered, pulled from their astonishment by her stride towards them.

Hera gave them a warm nod before turning to face her brother, and they stared at each other in a moment of reckoning silence. Rhea and Hestia knew better than to interrupt, instead observing with hopeful anticipation.

"I am here, Hades." The Goddess of Marriage declared, breaking the silence.

"I can see that." The God of Darkness said dryly.

Hera was unfazed by his tone. "You know, the underworld isn't as bad as many portray it to be. It has something that the rest of creation entirely lacks: fairness and justice," she said, with dignity marring her tone. "We are all equal in death."

Hades raised his brows in genuine surprise. "Who said that?"

"Who else but my beloved," Hera held her head high at Hades.

Hades fell into a thoughtful silence.

"Anyway," Hera continued, clearing her throat. "My point is that there is only fairness in death. And that makes your job all the harder and more difficult." she paused. "I am not here to criticise or question it; rather, I am here to express my best wishes since you will need everything you can get for the crucial duty you are about to take on."

"All the best, brother." The Goddess of Marriage finally remarked.

"Honestly, I'm at a loss for words." Hades chuckled emphatically. "Hera…"

"Huh?" Hera scowled. "I don't know, a thank you, maybe?"

"Ah." Hades said facetiously. "There's that notorious scowl. I was almost ready to attack you for the fear that you were some impersonator in my sister's skin.."

"Hades.." Hera's scowl deepened.

Hades merely laughed.

Hera focused on suppressing her anger, considering her previous actions. "What are you wearing, Hades?" she sneered at his gloomy dress, changing the subject. "That is no dress for a king."

"Suggest me some then." Hades said, his laughter fading. "Show me what is the dress of a 'King'."

"Seriously?" Hera blinked.

"Seriously." Hades repeated.

And so Hera turned towards her mother and sister. "Come on, we've got a job to do," she said readily.

Rhea charged straight at Hera. "I am so proud of you, Hera."

"Can everyone please stop saying that?" Hera hissed, but her cries were completely ignored as her mother and sister both hugged her tightly.

And so they began to help choose suitable clothing for Hades. Under Hera's suggestions and instructions, Rhea and Hestia began creating various types of royal dresses—most of which were inspired by tales Hypnos told Hera—with their powers, and the Goddess of Marriage added some finishing touches before presenting it all to Hades to let him choose.

The God of Darkness finally chose dark silk robes with a flowing cape. Hera had embroidered it with the evil souls she had captured from the underworld, giving her brother a regal yet grim bearing befitting the ruler of the underworld.

Hades strode into his temporary chambers in the underworld and began quickly changing his dress. Throughout all of this, they wisely chose not to bring up the obvious problem in the room: the other three had still not arrived, and it was very likely that they would not appear for the coronation.

Hades strode out of his chambers, dressed in dignified and grim robes of darkness, his cape swaying in a wave of inky blackness behind him.

Hera paced around her jaded brother, content. "All you need now is a crown."

"And I have it," said a majestic voice, drawing their attention to the door. A pale man in dark-golden robes strode in, welding a scythe.

"Lord Thanatos." Hades bowed lightly along with Rhea and Hestia.

Hera, on the other hand, approached Thanatos. "You must be the Grim Reaper," she noted as she gazed at the Primordial of Death.

"And you must be the lover of my wayward brother." Thanatos also noted.

"It seems my reputation preside over me," Hera held her head high at him. "I suppose it's good?" she ventured, trying her best to conceal her concerns about the prospects involved here; she didn't want her beloved's family to dislike her.

Thanatos simply stared at Hera with an unreadable expression, causing her heart to sink. But before she could press any further, her mother placed her hand on her shoulder. "Hera, don't bother Lord Death."

"I don't mind." Thanatos abruptly stated. "She will be family too in the foreseeable future."

Hera felt a tremendous wave of relief wash over her. "See, mother," she quipped to Rhea, "Brother-in-law doesn't mind—"

"Sister," Hades said, "I hate to break this moment, but can you please stop stealing my thunder?"

"What? No!" Hera spun around to confront him.

Thanatos took a golden pocket watch—a gift from Hypnos—from his robes. "Let's start," he uttered with finality, capturing the attention of everyone. "The dark hour has already begun."

And so everyone nodded solemnly—the dark hour was a time of night—from 3.00 to 4.00—when the dark and spiritual forces were at their strongest, to the point where the spiritual world would sometimes directly merge with the material world in many places of reality. It was arguably the best time for the coronation—and they followed Thanatos out of the chambers to the dark throne in the heart of the underworld.

Hestia was whispering something in Hades' ears while Rhea walked with them, looking around the underworld pensively. And Hera and Thanatos strode behind them together in silence.

Just as Hera wanted to break it, an unreal light appeared all around her, shimmering everything in imaginary brilliance for a fleeting moment, and then it went as fast as it had appeared.

Hera stopped in her tracks and looked ahead at her family, who were walking on obliviously; only Thanatos stopped along with her. "What was that…?" she asked Thanatos, despite an obvious guess forming in her heart.

"That," Thanatos said, his ever-stoic countenance shattered by a genuine smile, "was a disturbance caused by my brother opening his relam."

Hera smiled relievedly, placing her hand over her heart.

"You didn't ask whether he succeeded or not?" Thanatos pressed, side-glancing her as they continued along their path, keeping up with others.

"Should I?" Hera asked, offended. "He is Hypnos; of course he will succeed," she said, tilting her head inquisitively. "And why are you asking this? I suppose you don't doubt the prowess of your own brother, do you, Lord Death?"

"You are dauntless," Thanatos suddenly noted. "I can see why he fell in love with you."

"What do you mean?" Hera immediately inquired.

"You know what I mean," Thanatos said simply.

Hera was silent for a moment. She'd always known Hypnos had a type, but hearing confirmation from Thanatos himself surprised her all the more; yet, she didn't show it in her expression, instead nodding. "I take it as a compliment," she said, referring to his first words.

Thanatos, thankfully, took the hint and didn't go any further into this, sparing them the embarrassment, rather, he nodded back serenely.

Hera asked tentatively, tilting her head towards her family. "How come they didn't notice the disturbance?"

"You are a cosmic goddess." Thanatos merely said, and Hera immediately understood the meaning between the lines: as a cosmic goddess, she was connected to the cosmos, and she could obviously feel the changes in the cosmos, but her family, with the exception of Zeus, did not have that privilege.

After that, they dissolved in serene silence until they neared the centre of the underworld, which was filled with chthonic beings.

Thanatos and Hera strode forward, joined by others, until they reached the black throne between gargantuan white pillars. The chthonic entities bowed respectfully to Thanatos as he passed by them.

Lord Death finally took out a pale white crown, surrounded by a grim yet peaceful aura.

"Who will crown Hades?" Hestia asked inquisitively.

"No one, sister," Hades uttered. "This is my destined path, and I will forge ahead on my own."

The God of Darkness stared towards Thanatos. "I will crown myself, Lord Death," he declared, his tone firm.

Thanatos nodded approvingly and passed the crown to Hades.

After once again receiving all the warm wishes from his family, Hades began to ascend to the majestic black throne, his every step beginning to resound throughout the underworld like a thunderclap.

With the final step, Hades turned and looked at his family one last time, and then he sat on the throne under the eyes of all.

Then the God of Darkness raised the pale crown above his head as everything and everyone in the realm of the dead stilled, capturing this epochal moment.

Finally, Hades crowned himself.

RUMBLE!

The Underworld trembled, acknowledging its new ruler. A wave of darkness erupted from his throne, dispersing his essence throughout the realm of the dead.

And Hades immediately felt his divine power increase; by acknowledging his path, he gained four new divinities.

"All hail Hades, the God of Darkness, Fear, Silence, the Underworld, the Dead, Riches, and Wealth!" Rhea, the Mother of Gods, declared—her chant was the spark that lit the fire throughout the underworld.

The realm of the dead erupted with raucous cheers, filling every nook and cranny. All the chthonic beings kneeled together under the black throne, acknowledging their ruler.

Hades gazed at his realm with certitude. He reclined on his throne, taking it all in at this surreal moment.

The adage of Hypnos suddenly flashed through his mind: "In Death, we are all equal."

The God of the Underworld decided—that shall be his divine order.

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