Chapter 4 — The Echo of Flame and Shadow
The battlefield still smoldered with the remnants of war.
Titans had fallen. The sky still trembled with echoes of the final cries of Cronus.
Victory belonged to the Olympians.
And with that victory came a division of realms — a pact made not out of peace, but necessity.
Zeus stood upon the shattered plateau of Mount Othrys. The scent of ash clung to his robes, his hands crackling with faint streaks of thunder. By his side, Poseidon's trident shimmered with oceanic pulse, drawing clouds above as if the sea itself obeyed his command.
And then there was Hades.
He held not a helmet, but a staff.
Long and obsidian-dark, the staff pulsed faintly — alive, but dormant. Coiled serpents twisted along its shaft, their eyes embedded with pale violet stones that seemed to breathe in the dim light. The air around Hades thickened, as if shadows leaned toward the staff, drawn to its gravity.
He didn't speak. Not yet. But the staff hummed. And then, it spoke first.
A voice. Neither deep nor high. Neither male nor female.
"I am Taylor."
The gods froze.
Even Zeus narrowed his eyes. "What is that?"
"A soul. A spirit. An intelligence bound to this vessel," the voice said calmly. "I am the guide. The watcher. The weaver of rebirth. I am reincarnation, not death."
Poseidon's grip on his trident loosened.
Hades finally spoke. "You are mine?"
"No. I am myself. But I walk beside you, Lord of the Hidden."
Taylor's form shimmered before them — not a body, but an image. A silhouette made of shifting light and darkness. Eyes like twin stars blinked open, glowing from a face with no name.
The gods stepped back. The staff in Hades's hand pulsed again.
Then Taylor turned to face the shattered earth, as if sensing something distant.
"An oar sleeps beneath," the spirit said. "Forged before even the Titans were born. Elemental, primal. It calls."
Hades turned, following Taylor's gaze. Beneath Mount Othrys lay caverns untouched by sun or moon. It was there the oar had been sealed — an ancient fragment of the original void, splintered by the breath of Nyx.
Taylor continued, "It is guarded by the Kodan. The first protector. You must claim it, Lord of the Hidden, or it will fall to chaos."
Zeus frowned. "Why was I not told of this?"
"Because it is not yours to wield," Taylor answered.
The weight of that truth silenced even the sky.
---
Far beneath the ruins, in tunnels woven with roots of time and veins of magma, a being stirred.
It had waited long, cradling the oar within its stony chest. The Kodan, formed from the oldest stone and breath of Tartarus, opened eyes that glowed like forge-fires.
It knew someone was coming.
---
Back above, the three brothers prepared for their parting.
Zeus to the skies. Poseidon to the sea.
And Hades… to the depths.
Taylor hovered beside him, a ghost tethered to divine will.
"You are not alone anymore," the spirit said gently.
Hades's gaze remained cold, but something had changed. In his grip, the staff whispered. It knew names. It saw fates.
And it was only the beginning.