Olympus. The home of the supreme deities of Greek cosmology, the Twelve Olympians who ruled every corner of the world's dome—
the heavens, the seas, the lands, and the skies.
In these realms, the Gods operated by their own rules and politics. Even the golden Ichor in their veins flowed from their laws and truths.
Thus, they possessed a structure similar to, yet distinct from, that of mortals.
At the top of the hierarchy were the Twelve Olympians:
The Three Great Ones, their sisters, the offspring and bastards of the king.
Below them were the lesser gods—Hebe, Iris, and Hecate among others.
Beside them in rank were the personifications of concepts—Thanatos, Hypnos, Eris.
And finally came the semi-divine and deified heroes—Heracles, Perseus, Achilles.
And lastly, the spirits and other creatures of nature: nymphs, centaurs, sirens, harpies.
It was by this order of magnitude that the Olympian reign was maintained—a resplendent, golden realm, a world governed by gods.
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High on Mount Olympus, the gods were gathered in discussion, as always. Three in particular:
"I still DEMAND that I claim this realm for myself! After all, this kingdom clearly values knowledge and art far more than your MILITARISM and SAVAGERY, brother!"
A goddess grunted with clear irritation in her voice. Her skin was fair—this was none other than Athena.
Before her stood a tall man, bronze-skinned with blood-red hair, equally enraged:
"Oh, my dear SISTER, in case you've forgotten, the king of this realm was a warrior through and through! He and his people would welcome the blessing of war! Especially now, with this new campaign against that monster!"
This was the brutal Ares, his fist clenching the armrest of his throne in fury at the thought of conceding anything to Athena.
Around them, the other five Olympians present watched with bored expressions.
Not that they didn't care—they simply knew better than to compete with two arrogant gods of war.
Especially with only four of the Twelve present.
Zeus was likely off abducting and/or impregnating some mortal.
Hera was throwing a fit in her own temple.
Dionysus was reveling in some Bacchanal.
Hermes was busy as messenger and guide of souls to the Underworld.
Demeter was spending time with Persephone.
And Hephaestus… no one really cared what he did unless they needed weapons or gifts.
Poseidon was in his realm, grumbling as always.
In the end, only Aphrodite, Apollo, and Artemis remained to deal with the two bickering war gods.
"Uuugh, won't they ever SHUT UP?"
The silver-haired Moon Goddess snarled, clutching her bow. Artemis, with her long silvery-gray hair and tawny skin, slim yet curvy, wore only a simple short bikini and was adorned with golden chains and hunting gear—like a queen of the wilds.
"Tch… Don't I know it? I could be enjoying the day, but here I am babysitting those two," Apollo muttered in agreement with his twin sister. His dark skin and curly golden hair gleamed as he leaned against his throne.
The Hall of the Twelve still echoed with the routine argument of two gods who never seemed to tire of fighting.
"I demand this realm be under my protection!" Athena huffed, adjusting her golden chignon irritably. "There's no reason to leave them in the hands of a savage like you."
"Ha! These people respect war! They don't want books or speeches—they want blood, glory, and victory!" Ares retorted, folding his muscular arms.
Their verbal duel continued, as fruitless as ever.
Artemis grunted, rolling her eyes and resting her chin on her hand.
"Why do they always do this?" she murmured, squeezing her bow. "Does every single kingdom have to turn into a contest?"
Apollo, at her side, leaned lazily against his throne, twirling an arrow.
"Because they have nothing better to do than squabble like fighting cocks." He sighed, glancing at Aphrodite, who observed with a mysterious smile. "And you—are you just going to watch?"
Aphrodite gave a soft laugh and stretched languidly.
"It's always amusing to see who'll blow up first." She leaned back, fingers threading through her long wine-red hair. "But honestly, why worry? In the end, isn't the patronage of a realm decided by vote?"
Apollo grinned.
"If those two had their way, they'd probably split the place right down the middle."
Artemis muttered something inaudible and pulled her visor lower, determined to ignore the argument.
Meanwhile, Athena and Ares continued their clash of words, each trying to sway the other with arguments they both knew were pointless.
It was just another ordinary day on Olympus.
With delicate steps, Aphrodite rose from her throne and prepared to leave—an action that did not go unnoticed by Apollo.
"Hey? Dite, where are you going?"
The fox-like goddess smiled and called back,
"Just off to find some fun, dear Apollo\~"
And with that, she departed.
---
As she strolled through the open corridors of Olympus, the Goddess of Beauty drew the attention of servants, nymphs, and spirits alike—all captivated by her presence.
It was hardly surprising. Aphrodite's tall, curvaceous figure, deep crimson eyes, and long, silky wine-colored hair flowing to her ankles were irresistible. Her pale, soft skin appeared flawless; her generous hips beckoned; and her full, round breasts—nearly the size of her head—were utterly alluring.
Heading toward her temple and home, she sighed, feeling that familiar tedium creep in.
She was the Goddess of Love, Beauty, and Sex.
Her duty was to make all beings fall in love and engage in passion—herself included. As the goddess of Love, none could feel love more intensely than she, be it pure or wild.
And yet she was bored. She flitted from one mortal lover to the next, then with one god after another. But nothing felt new since the last quarrel among the gods.
She needed…entertainment.
Arriving at her temple, the goddess flung open its gates and teleported inside. Her servants and concubines immediately crawled toward her, but with a flick of her hand, she brushed them aside. She wanted something more…thrilling.
She picked up a mirror set in gold and studded with crystal jewels—beautiful, yet more than a mere looking-glass. This was Ojessed, an ancient gift from her husband.
"Some people never learn. What can I do?"
Using the magic mirror, she scanned the mortal world—Athens, Sparta, Pellion… Pellion! Was that not where Hera's new focus of hatred lay?
Well… it couldn't hurt to take a look!
"What's that?" she murmured in surprise. The goddess zoomed in, gaining an all-seeing view—and then—
◇◇◇
In an enchanted garden, vibrant with life and color, the foliage stretched as far as the eye could see. It was a hidden paradise, a secret oasis where nature reigned in its purest, most exuberant form. Every corner pulsed with its own energy, as if soil, plants, and creatures shared a collective soul, weaving an eternal melody of peace and harmony.
Flowers of unimaginable shapes and sizes painted the garden in a kaleidoscope of hues. White daisies shimmered in the sunlight, red tulips blossomed like hearts, blue lilies exuded a soothing perfume, and deep-red roses seemed rooted to the earth. Each petal, leaf, and stem looked sculpted by a divine hand, reflecting nature's untouched perfection.
At the heart of this splendor sat an almost anomalous figure in quiet meditation.
A giant—Asterius, the youngest prince of the Kingdom of Crete. His bronze-hued muscles were like polished armor, his alabaster mane striking against the greenery. He remained motionless, an island of stillness.
"..."
"Hey, Ast?"
Opening his eyes, the half-man, half-beast beheld the pure, genuine smile of a lovely young girl.
"...Eirene."
"Hm!!" The girl hummed sweetly, stepping barefoot among the blossoms under Asterius's watchful gaze.
Eirene was an ordinary youth in the radiant bloom of adolescence. Compared to the voluptuous royalty, her frame was slender beneath sun-kissed skin and chestnut curls—her hips and breasts pronounced, but not broad like those of Asterius's mother and sister.
Yet this did not make her inferior. Her beauty transcended mere flesh, a serene vibrancy—a flower thriving amid desert sands. Perhaps this was why she had drawn the prince to her side two years before, like a sun drawing its planets in orbit.
Under Asterius's attentive gaze, the girl wandered the suspended gardens—a gift from the queen to royal family and honored guests. As his dear friend, Eirene enjoyed this tranquility.
Though Asterius appeared mature, he was only fourteen—his age matched her own.
Together, the young pair savored the calm day, unaware of the joyous, expectant eyes watching from above—the lascivious smile of the Goddess of Beauty.
\_\_
"Well, well\~ young love\~" Aphrodite murmured with a sultry grin, her body trembling with anticipation of new amusement. "Yet I feel I know this hybrid from somewhere... hmm\~"
Rifling through her endless memories, she recalled a certain bull and an enraged sea god.
"Oh\~ Who would have thought your fury would result in THIS, dear Poseidon!"
The goddess smiled as twisted plans formed in her mind—schemes that a certain demigod would soon remember as the beginning of his downfall…
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Life in Crete flowed on unabated, its people ignorant of the divine schemes brewing to reach their shores. The city prospered through fishing, a commercial powerhouse blessed by its bloodline to Zeus himself.
Stone streets bustled with civilians—merchants, hawkers, soldiers at ease. Trade in exotic wares came and went; agreements were struck.
At dawn's light, a grand vessel slid into the harbor, its prow adorned with onyx ornaments, its sails billowing. Soon its ramp fell, and soldiers in white tunics and leather vests, spears and shields at the ready, formed a protective cordon.
First ashore was Lady Farah, former Queen of Thebes in Egypt—a skilled diplomat and ruler. At forty-three, she carried herself with graceful dignity, exuding both maternal serenity and the flame of a court dancer.
Her dark, flawless skin glowed; her emerald eyes brimmed with love; a golden shadow veiled one eye seductively. Her tunic barely covered her ample breasts; her fertile hips strained the alabaster cloth. Black hair, threaded with gold, fell to her mid-back, swaying as she walked. The scent of myrrh invited reverence and affection—her soft yet firm voice commanded respect.
"Ah—how long has it been since I last visited Crete? It seems as bustling as ever."
Farah sighed in delight at the changes she'd witnessed since her last visit twenty years past.
A second voice chimed in:
"I trust your tales do justice to this city's wonders, Mother."
"Yes, it is indeed an auspicious time for your journey, dear Opala."
Farah turned to her daughter, Queen-Pharaoh Opala. The fifteen-year-old's white tunic edged with feather motifs highlighted her gentle yet resolute beauty. Though flanked by guards and opulence, modesty shone in her green eyes.
Opala was a younger echo of her mother—fifteen, newly ascended to the throne after her father's passing. Her tawny skin and curvy figure hinted at maturity to come. Her short, straight hair crowned with a serpent diadem framed fiery red eyes.
"Come on, Mother! I want to see everything before the meeting with the king!"
Eagerly, the young queen tugged farah along the path, the older woman smiling indulgently before following, guarded on either side.
◇◇◇
At a slight distance, Asterius's bestial ears twitched—he heard the clamor of the royal procession that his parents had spoken of.
Beside him, Eirene noticed his distraction and moved close, her gaze curious.
Suddenly, Asterius rose to his full height and strode purposefully away.
"H-HEY?! Ast! W-wait for me!"
Eirene ran to keep pace, and together they left the gardens, drawn toward something that had caught Asterius's attention.
…
Meanwhile, Lady Farah and Opala led their guards through Crete's stone streets. Curious onlookers—merchants, fishermen, even seagulls—fell silent as the regal party passed, captivated by the foreign queens.
Amid the tinkling of stalls and wafting spices, Opala's eyes danced with wonder at mosaics, aromas, and the reverent stares of the populace.
"Mother…" she whispered, leaning in. "What do you think will come of our treaty with the king?"
Though devoted to peace, Opala felt unsure of negotiating a lasting contract. Farah smiled and replied softly:
"Don't drown in self-doubt, my dear. I'm here to support you, and with me by your side, no one could contest our diplomacy. Since I became your father's advisor, we've known peace. Now I will guide you as I guided him."
As if to seal her words, the path ahead revealed itself.
Before they could delve into tales of the old golden age, a stir arose before them. Shields lifted as guards braced for danger.
But it was no attack.
A familiar, powerful presence emerged through the archway into the palace grounds: two figures—time itself seemed to pause.
First came the colossal form of Asterius, Prince Minotaur. Half man, half beast, yet possessing a serene, almost divine aura. His alabaster mane whipped in the breeze, his ruby eyes glowing.
Behind him, panting, was Eirene, flushed but determined to keep pace.
Opala halted. Her red eyes met Asterius's, and for a single heartbeat, silence reigned.
"Who is that…?" the young queen murmured, curiosity mingling with a deeper sense of destiny.
Farah's eyes appraised him with diplomatic scrutiny, feeling a shiver as she addressed her daughter in Egyptian:
「I believe this is the heir I've heard so much about.」
Opala's eyes widened.
「Really? The one you were so eager to see」
Farah merely smiled at her daughter's jest.
「Don't tease, Opala. Admire him. A robust hybrid like that is truly a blessing from the gods~」
But then, a powerful voice spoke:
「My name is Asterius… not 'hybrid'.」
A hush fell as Farah and Opala realized this towering stranger had addressed them flawlessly in Egyptian…