Olympus – The Silent Dawn
The sun rose pale over Olympus, washing the marble halls in dim gold. Thin clouds drifted around the mountain peak, carrying cool winds that rustled olive branches and whispered across the sleeping gardens. The gods’ palace lay quiet under dawn’s first touch, a stillness rarely felt in these halls of endless voices.
But deep within the eastern wing, behind tall silver doors marked with peacock feather carvings, Hera’s private cohort gathered. Their silent footsteps echoed faintly through the veiled chamber as they knelt one by one before Kratos, his massive fra draped in dark bronze and black cloth. His iron-dark eyes swept over them, unblinking, reading their fear and obedience with cold stillness.
Bia stood at his right, silent and sharp-eyed, her long black hair tied back in a single braided cord. Phobos leaned casually against a carved marble pillar, his faint smile curling as he twirled a thin dagger between his fingers. The faint scent of blood always clung to him, sweet and tallic like copper left out under the sun. Icelus drifted among them like mist, his pale robe whispering across the marble, his heavy-lidded eyes flickering with dreams only he could see.
"Today," Kratos rumbled, his deep voice vibrating through the quiet hall, "we act."
Bia’s dark eyes flickered up at him without emotion. "All preparations are complete. Her orders stand unchanged."
Phobos’s grin widened faintly as he sheathed his dagger with a quiet snick. "Finally. The halls have been silent too long."
Icelus did not speak. His thin fingers traced symbols into the drifting incense smoke before him, dream-visions curling in faint purple mist around his pale knuckles.
Kratos turned, his heavy sandals striking the marble with each step as he approached the brazier burning low at the chamber’s centre. Blue fla flickered among crushed sandalwood, casting thin shadows up across his hard face.
"Zeus is in Asgard," he said quietly. "And Hera... stands beside him. tis is alone."
Bia tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes unblinking. "Will Poseidon move?"
Kratos’s jaw tightened faintly. "He will keep order. That is his only role today."
Outside, thin white doves perched along the palace ledges, their heads tucked under wings as dawn spread across Olympus. Servants moved through the high halls, carrying folded robes of white and gold, preparing the throne room for tis’s morning assembly. None noticed the shadows gathering within Hera’s silent wing.
Phobos pushed off from his pillar, rolling his shoulders lightly beneath his dark tunic. "I will take the western approach," he said softly, his grin thin as a blade. "No one sees shadows when light blinds them."
Bia nodded once, her expression blank. "I will silence the guards."
Icelus drifted past them both, his pale robe whispering as dream-mist coiled from his fingers. "I will show her peace before she dies," he murmured, his voice soft as sleep’s last sigh. "That is rcy."
Kratos said nothing. He only watched them for a long mont, reading each face, each flicker of movent, each ripple of fear or anticipation that twisted through their silent hearts. Finally, he turned back to the brazier, lifting his massive hand to hover above the thin blue flas.
"Hera’s will," he said softly, almost reverently. "It binds us."
"Hera’s will," they whispered back in unison, their voices low and cold as winter winds sliding across moonlit stone.
In the throne room, tis stood before the tall mirrored columns, her lavender robes trailing across pale marble veined with gold. Her dark hair fell unbound around her shoulders, still damp from her morning bath. She reached for the carved silver comb lying upon a thin cloth, pulling it slowly through her hair with asured grace.
Her gaze flicked to her reflection, calm and unreadable. The lines of her face remained smooth, but shadows of fatigue marked the skin beneath her eyes. She set the comb down lightly upon the table, exhaling softly as she rested her fingers against its cool tal.
Behind her, the tall bronze doors opened silently.
Bia entered first, her steps silent despite the iron-capped sandals she wore. tis’s gaze flicked to the mirror, watching her approach without turning.
"Lady Bia," she said softly, her voice calm. "What brings you here before assembly?"
Bia did not answer. She simply raised her hand in a swift, cutting gesture. Two guards standing by the far pillars stiffened briefly before collapsing to the floor, their throats split in a single clean motion. The faint scent of blood rose into the quiet morning air, sharp and tallic.
tis’s gaze darkened faintly. She turned slowly from the mirror, folding her hands before her robe.
"So it begins," she murmured.
Phobos stepped from behind a tall marble screen, his grin wide, teeth bright in the shadowed chamber. "You knew."
"Of course," tis said calmly. "I see all paths... even those that end in shadow."
Icelus drifted forward, dream-mist curling around his pale hands as his heavy-lidded eyes flickered with shifting purple light.
"Then sleep," he whispered, his voice trembling with quiet hunger. "Sleep and dream no more."
Kratos entered last, his massive fra blocking the faint dawn light pouring through the bronze doors behind him. He walked forward, his iron-dark eyes locked on tis, unblinking, unfeeling.
She raised her gaze to et his, quiet and steady despite the four shadows closing around her.
"Do you serve her," tis asked softly, "because you believe in her... or because you fear her?"
Kratos said nothing. He simply raised his massive hand, fingers curling into a crushing fist as he stepped forward.
tis closed her eyes for a brief mont. A faint smile curved her lips.
"Tell Hera..." she whispered, "dreams never die. They simply sleep... waiting to wake again."
Then Kratos moved, and the quiet dawn shattered under the silent scream of fate twisting around the halls of Olympus.
A/N
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