The Whispering Spring – Realm of the River Maidens
The moon hung high over a silver spring tucked between rolling hills and silent stone. Crickets hummed softly in the grass, and the water sparkled like glass under the starlight. The air smelled of lavender and old magic.
By the riverbank, a woman knelt—her fingers dancing along the surface of the spring, sending ripples across the mirror-like water.
Her hair flowed like seawater, long and dark with silver streaks that shimmered when the light touched them. Her eyes were calm, calculating—holding the weight of foresight. Her robes were pale blue and white, made of silk and mist.
Metis.
Daughter of Oceanus. One of the Oceanids. The goddess of wisdom, strategy, and deep counsel.
A smile tugged at her lips as she turned her head.
"Sister," she said, voice smooth and soft like the tide. "How pleasant to see you again."
Across from her, lounging barefoot in the shallow water with arms resting on a rock, was a sharp-eyed woman with a voice that could bend steel.
Styx.
Her hair was long, black as obsidian, falling like a blade across one shoulder. Her presence was cold and commanding, her eyes sharp with quiet defiance. Her dark robes clung like shadows, trimmed with faint silver patterns that pulsed with divine authority.
"It's been too long, Metis," Styx replied, smirking. "You've been hiding in the quiet places again."
Metis raised a brow. "Unlike you, I enjoy peace."
"Peace is overrated," Styx said, flicking water toward her with her fingers.
Laughter echoed behind them.
On the river stones sat two more figures—both radiant and humming with elemental grace.
Eidyia, draped in robes of deep green, her hair glowing with bioluminescent streaks like sea kelp. Her eyes glowed soft blue, and she smiled often. Her aura pulsed with knowledge and healing.
And beside her, legs dipped lazily into the water, was Doris—playful and free, wearing flowing fabric that looked like it had been woven from sunlight on waves. Her laughter was bright and always near.
"You two are always like this," Doris said, flicking water between them. "Metis with her riddles, Styx with her daggers."
"Balance," Eidyia said, plucking a flower from the river's edge. **"That's what makes us sisters."
Metis chuckled lightly, the sound like wind passing through reeds.
"What are we if not the last quiet voices in this loud, loud world?"
Styx leaned back, eyes scanning the sky.
"Not for long."
The others grew quiet.
Eidyia looked toward her. "You felt it too?"
Styx nodded slowly. "Something has returned. Something… Powerful."
The sisters were still talking when the air shifted.
Just a breeze at first. Then a crackle.
A strange pulse rolled through the ground like the world took a deep breath.
Every one of them froze.
The soft hum of the spring went still. Even the water seemed to wait.
They turned.
And there—emerging from a part in the mist like he walked straight out of a myth not yet written—stood Zeus.
He wasn't hiding his presence. No need to.
His body was impossible to miss—towering, broad-shouldered, a wall of sculpted power wrapped in loose armor and divine glow. His skin shimmered with a storm-washed bronze tone, marked with faint scars that looked earned. Each step crackled faintly beneath his boots. His white hair fell over his shoulders like wild cloud waves, and his face—handsome in a way that made silence feel dangerous—was relaxed, like he wasn't the least bit surprised to be admired.
He raised his hands in a casual peace offering, voice low and warm.
"Hey. I mean no harm."
A smile tugged at the edge of his mouth.
"I'm Zeus. Son of Cronus and Rhea. And before you say it—yes, I know. Dad has a snack problem."
He tapped his chest.
"I'm the one who got away."
He glanced at the shimmering spring, steam curling like fingers.
"Just finished a… very long training session. Body's sore. Mind's fried. I could use a proper soak."
He pointed at the water, tone half-joking.
"So… mind if I borrow a corner?"
Silence followed.
The kind of silence where everyone's brain goes completely blank for two seconds.
Then—
Doris tilted her head, letting her eyes wander very deliberately across Zeus's figure—from the thick neck to the arms that looked like they could crush boulders to the abs that had no reason to be that defined.
She let out a low whistle.
"Well. Hello, muscles."
Eidyia blinked slowly, lips parting just slightly. Her cheeks turned pink. "That's a lot of divinity," she murmured.
Styx gave him a once-over, arms crossed, her stare cold but clearly sizing up every inch of him.
Only Metis stayed composed—mostly.
She tilted her head, eyes sharp but unreadable. Like she was studying him for something beyond his looks. Something deeper.
Zeus turned toward her—and that's when the name hit.
Metis.
His smile flickered.
His whole body stilled for half a second.
He knew that name.
In his past life, he'd read her story. She was the one who helped Zeus outsmart Cronus during the Titanomachy. The mind behind the plan. The strategist. And later… swallowed. Lost.
The mother of Athena.
He blinked, clearing his throat.
"Nice to meet you all."
His eyes settled on her again. Softer this time.
"Especially you… Metis."
Metis raised a brow. "Have we met?"
Zeus smirked faintly.
"Not yet."
Doris giggled. "He's got riddles and abs. This one's trouble."
Styx grunted. "If you're done being dramatic, take your bath."
Zeus chuckled and stepped forward, peeling off the top half of his armor. His gauntlets came off with a hiss of heat and energy. As he lowered into the spring, the water glowed faintly, responding to his divine pressure.
Steam rolled off him like a veil.
The sisters returned to their rocks, but every now and then—eyes flicked his way.
Zeus leaned back, resting his arms behind him on the edge of the spring, lightning still gently humming beneath his skin.
And across the water, Metis watched him.
She didn't know why, but she felt it too.
Something was shifting.
And it had Zeus's name on it.