Zeus battles Poseidon's Son Part Two

Dylan remained utterly motionless, his eyes cold and unblinking, power emanating from deep within him, surrounding his body in a glowing white light. He held himself up right, back held straight, still as a statue. He lifted his chin in the air, his face etched in harsh lines, as if it had been carved from stone. “You’re right.” He squeezed his hands tighter around his trident. His muscles rippled and bulged. A vein twitched in his forehead. His eyes flashed with rising power. “It is.” A gust of wind stirred to life inside the room. It began to circle around him and pick up speed. The floor buckled beneath his feet and the walls shook. Thunder boomed. Books toppled off shelves and dust sprinkled down from the ceiling. Dylan held his head high. His hair whipped in his face and his clothes rippled against his skin in the rising wind. The clouds lit up with lightning outside the castle. Beams of light shone in through the windows. He stood completely still. Power bottled up inside him. He could feel it flowing through his veins. He gazed at Zeus from across the length of the room. His uncle flinched and took a step back.

A flicker of uncertainty passed over his face. He returned his stare with narrowed eyes. A wicked smile unfurled across Dylan’s mouth. “For you,” he said, pointing a finger at him. He blinked at him for a moment longer then turned his back on him and looked down at the ground. He stood still for a moment then tilted his head back and raised his gaze upward, arms held high, lifting his trident above him. The air crackled with electricity all around him. He lowered his head and brought his attention back onto Zeus. Neither of then moved. He stared into his eyes for a moment then slowly let his gaze drift past him. He glanced up at one of the windows. For a moment he did not move. Lightning flashed across the clouds. He stiffened, then pulled himself up to his full height and swung his trident towards the window, anger gripping him. He moved so fast it seemed as if for a moment time had stopped for the rest of the world. He channelled his building powers up through his muscles and limbs and into the weapon held in his hands.

The blast of energy that erupted from the trident was so blinding, so powerful in its intensity, the flash of light lit up the entire room. Zeus snapped upward, head held high, his black hair unbound and streaming around his face, his mouth edged in a cruel-lipped smile. He did not move. Did not blink. He held himself up straight, hands linked behind his back, his muscles locked with tension. There was a stillness to him. A sense of rising anticipation. Dylan could feel him beginning to gather his strength, preparing himself for the right moment to strike, like a coiled snake. Time seemed to slow. The bolt of electricity that had shot out from the trident streaked towards him across the length of the room. Coming closer. Closer still. The energy beam passed over the top of Zeus’s head close enough to singe his hair before he could have a chance to raise his arm and catch it in his fist. Zeus turned his head to the side, his eyes widening, flashing in anger as the blast of lightning shot past him and struck the window.

A split second passed. The surface of the glass splintered and cracked, shattering inward, breaking into pieces; for a moment the glittering shards hung suspended, then a gust of wind rushed in through the window, lifting up the fragments and spinning them in a whirlwind. On the other side of the room Dylan retreated into the shadows, his heart pounding frantically, adrenaline rushing through his bloodstream. His entire body clenched, fear gripping him, clogging his throat. He blinked, his eyes wide and quivering, unable to pull away from the sight of his uncle twisting from side to side, staggering wildly, his hair cascading around him, hiding his face. His sword slipped through his fingers and fell onto the floor without his knowledge. Zeus pressed his hands against his face and stumbled away, his screams of rage reverberating off the walls as the swarm of glass circled around him slashing at his clothes and cutting into his skin.

Blood streaked his cheeks and trickled down his arms and thighs. His foot brushed against the hilt of the sword. Dylan flinched and dropped his gaze to the ground as the blade skittered across the floor and melted into the shadows. He lifted his head and brought his gaze back onto Zeus. His uncle whirled away, trapped within the spinning maelstrom of glass, his screams rising higher, tearing his throat. Thunder rolled and lightning lined the clouds. Dylan felt the air stir all around him and immediately flung himself away, dropping into a roll. He sprung upward, his heart slamming against his ribs, fear swamping over him. His lungs burned and his throat felt raw. He settled into a crouch, his breathing low and heavy, his muscles taunt with tension. He turned his head from side to side, his eyes sweeping around the room, searching the shadows for his uncle’s sword. He spotted it a few meters away, discarded and forgotten. He called on his powers, letting it flow through him and guide his hand. The sword sprung up into his palm. The air charged with mounting electricity all around him, snapping and crackling, humming with malevolence. He glanced towards Zeus. In the centre of the room, beyond the rows of bookshelves, his uncle threw back his head, his arms out stretched, his eyes gleaming, flashing with madness.


A web of lightning spiralled out from his body, striking the shards of glass circling around him, reflecting from piece to piece. He stiffened, then slowly began to rise upward, back held straight. His feet lifted off the ground. His powers swelled until the walls trembled all around him. Beams of light shot from his fingertips and shone out from his mouth surrounding him in an ethereal glow. The wave of light spread throughout the room engulfing the fragments of glass causing the shards to melt and fall in liquid hot droplets onto the ground. He lowered his head, the corners of his mouth twitching, rising upward, curving into a wicked-edged smile. His face was covered in blood and his clothes hung off him in ripped shreds. Trails of blood seeped from dozens of shallow cuts all over his skin. “Tell me,” he said, laughter building in his throat. “Did you honestly think…” He cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised, his faced lined with madness. “That little trick you just pulled would be enough to stop me?” He glanced down at his lower torso.
His hair tumbled down over his shoulders throwing his face into shadow.
“All of this…” He waved a hand over his body, the bloodied slashes covering him immediately began to heal, leaving no marks behind on his skin. He lifted his head and turned the full force of his gaze back onto Dylan. “Is nothing.”


Dylan swallowed a lump in his throat. He looked down at the sword clutched in his hand for a moment then tilted his head back and brought his gaze back onto his uncle. “You talk too much.” He reared back, tightened his grip around the hilt of the sword, then swung his arm forward, moving in slow motion, his muscles rippling, bulging with strength. The blade flew from his fingertips and whistled throughout the air, spinning in an arc, glinting with light. At the last possible second Zeus spun around, his arm lashing out, striking the sword, knocking it out of mid air, the force of the impact cracking the blade down the middle. The weapon fell to the ground with a clatter. A brief silence fell in the room. Zeus dropped into a crouch and regarded his nephew coolly, his eyes pale and glittering, his face etched in harsh lines. “This ends.” He stood upward, rising to his full height, chin in the air. He slipped a hand inside his robes. “Now.” He inched closer, drawing the Blade of Medusa out from a sheath and palming it, holding it against his wrist. Dylan circled to the right, matching his uncle’s steps as if dancing with him.

A flicker of anger rippled across his face. “Go ahead,” he said, snapping his teeth together. “Kill me.” A smile played across his lips. “If you can.” The air in the room grew still. Dylan took a step back. A rush of wind blew past him. He never saw Zeus move. His uncle’s sudden burst of speed was so incredible the blur of motion was too fast for him to be able to follow with his eyes. He collided into him. Dylan felt the impact. Hard. The jolt shook his entire body. He staggered backward under the blow, blinking his eyes, his face white with shock. He raised his trident and just managed to parry his uncle’s second thrust which came straight towards his heart. He glided to the side, deflecting a third strike, his brow glistening with sweat. Zeus screamed in rage, driving at him hard, forcing him to retreat further backward.


A brief lull fell between the two combatants. Dylan bent his knees and sprung into the air with a leap, slashing at Zeus as he somersaulted over the top of his head, his trident cutting a wide arc. He dropped into a crouch several meters behind him, breathing hard. He rose upward and swung around, turning his head towards Zeus. His uncle’s blazing eyes settled on him in hatred. He closed the distance between them with a single bound. Dylan glanced upward, his focus turning onto the air, onto the clouds circling above the castle. He began to gather surge of energy, building it into a crackling sphere of electricity, into a white-hot ball of light. He pointed a finger at his uncle. A bolt of lightning slammed from the clouds and into Zeus throwing him backwards. The stench of singed flesh filled the air. Zeus leapt to his feet and rubbed a hand along the edge of his jaw, his expression twisted with outrage. The skin on the left side of his face had become red and blistered and smoke was rising from him. He laughed low in his throat. “Not bad.” He clicked his fingers. His burnt flesh healed instantly, fading from view, leaving no trace behind, not even the tiniest blemish. He stepped forward, shoulders thrown back, an arrogant smile touching his mouth. “But still not enough.”

He whirled into motion, snarling, showing a mouthful of teeth. Dylan rushed forward, his trident flashing, meeting strike after strike. Zeus advanced until he towered over his nephew cutting everything in his path. Dylan stumbled backward and collided against a bookcase. The jolt hit him hard. His trident slipped through his fingers and fell onto the floor. He gasped and bent down to retrieve it. Zeus moved in close, pushing him backwards, pinning him flat against the bookcase. He caught his chin in his hand and tipped his head back forcing his wide frightened eyes to meet his gaze. He loomed over him from above, his face inches from his own, his breath warm against his cheeks. He stared down into his eyes. The silence between them lengthened. Everything in Dylan stilled. He shot a glance down at his trident. He extended his hand towards it in desperation.

Zeus made a sound of disapproval at the back of his throat and circled his fingers around his wrist in a crushing grip. Pain radiated through Dylan. He raised his head, blinking his eyes, tears clogging his throat and rolling down his cheeks. Zeus cupped the side of his face in the palm of his hand and chuckled low in his throat. “I knew it.” He lowered his head and brushed his mouth against his ear. “I knew the prophecy would fail to pass.”


He rubbed his thumb across his cheek. “You are finished.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Don’t worry,” he breathed against the side of his neck.
“It will be quick.” His soft laughter echoed inside his head. “I promise.” A wave of hopelessness passed over Dylan. “No,” he gasped, his heart beat erupting into a frantic rhythm. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from his uncle’s pale glittering eyes. “No, please.” He sounded on the edge of tears. A smile edged the cruel set of Zeus’s mouth. “Goodbye,” he said pleasantly, nodding his head at him. He rushed forward with lightning speed and plunged the Blade of Medusa deep into Dylan’s beating heart. There was no sound. No scream. Dylan did not move, did not blink, he stood completely still, his mouth hung open wordlessly, his eyes wide with shock. Slowly, his body began to grow numb, agony ripped at his chest and his heart seized. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth and the air stilled in his lungs. He dropped to his knees, his arms falling to his side and his head slumping forward, the colour draining from his face.

He crumpled into a heap, his eyes rolling upward, the last of the air in his lungs leaving his mouth in a rattling gasp. He ceased moving. Minutes passed. In the far reaches of Mount Olympus the distant call of a raven echoed breaking the sudden silence that had descended over the castle. Zeus stepped forward and towered over Dylan. His expression was impassive, his eyes fixed on his nephew in an unblinking stare, cold and without remorse. He nudged him with the tip of his shoe. Dylan remained motionless. Blood dripped from his wound onto the floor. The wind rose, howling mournfully, whipping at his clothes. Zeus stood his ground, unflinching, his face a stone mask. A clap of thunder boomed in the distance.

He inched closer. Lightning flashed. He rubbed a hand across his jaw and cocked his head to the side. He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, his heart thudding in his ears, his eyes narrowing, glinting with suspicion. He dropped into a crouch and reached towards his nephew with an out stretched hand, his brow crinkling, a frown crossing his face. Suddenly, Dylan lurched upward and caught hold of Zeus’s wrist in an unbreakable grip, drawing a startled gasp from his throat. Dylan peered up at him with a murderous glint in his eyes. His lips were coated in blood and his teeth were clenched together. “Is that the best you can do?” he said in a voice edged with pain. He nodded his head at the blade protruding from his chest. Zeus made a strangled sound at the back of his throat and scrambled away, pulling himself free from his grasp, his mouth dropping open in a gasp. “How…” he sputtered, lifting his head. He circled his fingers around his wrist and rubbed his thumb over his swollen flesh. His eyes moved over his nephew’s face in disbelief. “How…” he pressed his lips together tightly, silence falling over him. Dylan rolled onto his stomach and pressed his hands flat against the ground, his breathing low and heavy, coming in gasps past his lips. Slowly, he began to rise upward, gritting his teeth. He wiped a hand across his forehead, smearing blood across his brow. He dropped his gaze to the knife sticking out from his torso with a pained look on his face. He wrapped his fingers around the blood soaked hilt and pulled. He threw back his head and screamed. The sound tore through his body, raw and horrible, tearing at his throat. A fountain of blood erupted from his chest. He lowered his head, gasping for breath. He blinked, his eyes focusing on the gaping hole in his torso, his expression dazed. He watched, silent and still, as the jagged edges of the wound closed, the skin mending together, leaving no trace of a scar left behind. A jolt shot through him. He pressed a hand against his ribs with a gasp. His heart thudded beneath his palm. He lowered his head and looked down at the bloodied knife grasped in his hand. A ripple of light passed over the dagger from the tip of the blade to the bottom of the hilt morphing the weapon from solid steel into wood. He turned around to face Zeus, holding the knife out in front of him in a two-fingered grip, his eyes locking onto his face. He began to shake with silent laughter. “I think its broken,” he said, his lips quirking. He tightened his fingers around the hilt without removing his gaze from Zeus. The dagger crumbled into dust. He opened his fist and let all that remained of the Blade of Medusa fall to the ground.


Zeus choked back a sob. “Its not possible.” Fear hit him, mounting to terror, crashing over him in waves. Outside the walls of the castle cloud formations built in the sky, great towers churning upward, spinning in a dark cauldron. Lightning sizzled and danced, jumping from cloud to cloud in bolts of electricity, casting light across the walls. The call of the raven began to grow closer. Dylan took a step forward forcing Zeus to retreat further into the shadows. A sneer shaped his mouth. “Not so confident now, are you?” he cocked his head to the side, his eyes settling on his face, his eyebrows shooting upward. He smiled, a flash of gleaming white teeth. “You should be.” He paused, stiffening, his gaze drifting past Zeus and moving into the shadows. A pair of glittering purple eyes blinked back at him. He glanced away, his attention shifting back onto Zeus. His uncle flinched under the weight of his stare and took a step to the side, his gaze fixed on his face.

Dylan faced him without expression, without moving a muscle, his eyes smouldering dangerously, exuding power. “Not so talkative, anymore?” he spat, his voice dripping in contempt. Zeus stirred, a slight rippling of muscle, anger radiating from him. He balled his hands into fists. “Do not push me, boy.” Dylan did not flinch. “Or what?” he laughed, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. He blinked, his attention moving past him, drifting back into the shadows. A raven peered back at him. A look of surprise crossed his face. He turned away, glancing back towards his uncle. “You’ll kill me?” He bent his head, his eyes gleaming, holding Zeus in his thrall. “With what?” he said, his voice low and taunting, his silent laughter filling his head. Zeus stood still for a moment then rushed forward, reaching towards his throat, his face a mask of rage, his teeth coming together with a snap. “My bare hands!” he shouted, his voice rising to a scream.


Poseidon erupted from the sky and dropped down through the hole in the roof onto the ground, landing in a crouch, an ethereal figure bathed in light. He rose upward, his blonde hair unbound and streaming around his face, his muscles rippling beneath bands of glowing skin. He strode forward and inserted himself in front of his son shielding him from Zeus. He smiled pleasantly, a flash of gleaming white teeth. “Hello brother,” he said in a black velvet drawl. Zeus backed away, a knot rising into his throat, his eyes sweeping over Poseidon, flashing in defiance. “Are you here to stop me?” he arched his brows at him.

Dylan peered out from behind Poseidon. His gaze fell back into the shadows. The purple-eyed raven met his stare right back. Its shape shimmered, contorting and crackling, bones and sinew popping as its beck retracted into its face and its wings curved inward, its feathers bleeding into one another, melting into flesh. It rose upward, swelling in size, taking the form of a tall elegant woman with long black hair and the regal features of a queen. She emerged out of the shadows slowly, one step at a time, almost in free frame. She moved with the grace of royalty, with the air of a powerful goddess. She reached into her robes and slowly pulled out a dagger identical to the one he had held in his hands moments before. She stepped forward, gripped hold of Zeus’s shoulder and squeezed, forcing him to turn around to meet her eyes. In the first brief second that he was spun around, a flash of surprise crossed his features, then his expression darkened, brewing with anger. “Hera.” He looked down at the knife held in her hands then lifted his head and regarded her set features for a long moment. “The prophecy…” he pressed his lips together tightly and fell silent. Hera leaned down and brushed her mouth against his ear causing him to shiver at the warmth of her breath. “Was true.”


She pulled away, raising her head, her eyes moving over his face, over his mouth, over the line of his throat. She closed the space separating them with a single step and hooked her arm around his waist drawing him up against her chest. He bent his head, his warm breath stirring tendrils of hair around her ears. She blinked to keep from falling into his gaze. She framed his face in her hands, her fingertips brushing over his cheeks, tracing the contours of his hard chiselled jaw. She lowered her head and took possession of his mouth. Her lips were soft. His tongue tasted the curve of her mouth and his teeth tugged, demanding entrance. Her mouth softened, her tongue tangling with his, her lashes sweeping down, fanning her cheeks. Zeus arched her head back and fed hungrily, long drugging kisses, devouring her sweetness. Hera raised her arm slowly, her fingers closing around the hilt of the Blade of Medusa, gripping it in the palm of her hand. She put on a burst of blinding speed and rushed forward in a blur of motion thrusting the dagger into his chest. The blade sunk into his flesh to the hilt penetrating his heart. Zeus pulled his lips away from her mouth with a gasp, his eyes wide with shock, with betrayal.

Pain blossomed, low and deep, shaking him to his core. He looked down, shocked to see blood seeping from a gaping wound in his chest. He lifted his head and brought his gaze back onto Hera. A trickle of blood rolled down his chin. “Why?” his voice was a low rasp of pain. She glanced up at him. A quick look from under the crescent of her long lashes. She cupped the side of his face, her palm brushing over the hard line of his jaw, one fingertip touching his mouth. A single tear rolled down her cheek. “Because,” a small smile touched her mouth. “It was meant to be.” She pulled her hand away, her arm dropping to her side. She sank into the shadows, her eyes resting on his face. Zeus was silent for a moment, his dark features set in cruel lines, his lips forming a frown. He touched her mind, a light brush, and knew she was close to tears. The air thickened all around him suddenly, becoming hard to breathe. The wind ceased to blow and for a moment there was total silence. Zeus stood slumped over with one hand pressed against the side of his head and the other clutched around the knife embedded in his chest.

Blood dribbled out from between his fingers and fell in glistening droplets onto the ground. The fear of death wrapped itself around him smothering his thoughts. Pain crawled through him. A flash of light flared in front of his eyes without warning, transporting him to another place. A gasp caught in his throat. He blinked. The faint outline of a hospital bed emerged out of a cloud of mist in front of him. He stepped forward, gliding silently, his large frame looming over the bed, casting a shadow over a blonde haired woman huddled on the mattress with her back pressed against a pile of pillows and her legs spread apart. Her face was lined with pain and beads of sweat clung to her forehead. A man in his late twenties stood next to her side gripping her hand, tears glittering in his eyes. A doctor and a group of nurses stood clustered around the bottom of the bed surrounded by pieces of medical equipment. “Push!” one of them shouted. The illusion vanished into smoke. Zeus sunk to his knees and shook his head, shaking with silent sobs, his stomach in knots. For a moment his gaze rested on Poseidon, a bleak reflection of emptiness, then he lowered his head. He pressed his hands against his face, tears clogging his throat. A flash of light lit up the room. He lifted his head, dark hair spilling over his forehead, his eyes darting from side to side, glinting with nervousness.

He was back in the hospital room. He glanced back over towards the woman huddled on the bed. Her head was arched back and her cheeks were streaked with tears. “Come on, push!” cried one of the doctors, glancing up at her from the bottom of the bed. The woman lurched forward, clenching her teeth, a scream ripping at her throat. Her husband wiped a cloth across her forehead. “Almost there,” he whispered, a smile softening the edges of his mouth. Zeus paled visibly, his vision blurring. A heavy drowsy sensation washed over him, clouding his thoughts. A strange leathery crawled through him, squeezing his heart. His long lashes swept down then raised upward again. For a moment the world fractured all around him flashing between the room at the hospital and the interior of Mount Olympus. Suddenly, a squalling cry split the air. Smiling, the doctor stood upward, clutching an infant in his arms. He turned and slowly, gently, bent over and put the newborn into the arms of its mother. “It’s a girl,” he said. The woman looked down into the face of her daughter with tears in her eyes. “Look at her.” She turned her head and looked up at her husband, gripping hold of his hand. “Look at what we did.” A nurse peered over her shoulder with a look of concern on her face. “What’s that strange symbol on her wrist?” she asked, pointing a finger at the child. “It must be a birth mark,” said the doctor, moving forward to have a closer look. He leaned down, circled his fingers around the baby’s wrist and slowly turned it upward, rubbing his finger over the delicate flesh. Imprinted on its wrist was a circular mark. A lightning bolt. “How odd,” he said. “It looks like a tattoo.”

In the ensuring silence, Zeus heard his heart thundering loud in his ears. He lowered his head and looked down at his arm with a slight frown on his face. A glowing symbol appeared on his wrist. The mark of a soul mate. He drew in a deep breath and rubbed his thumb across it. He lifted his chin slowly, tears streaming down his face, a sound of denial escaping his throat. His soul mate stirred in her mother’s arms. Small. Fragile. Innocent. His heart skipped a beat.
He glanced back towards the hospital bed. The mother and father of his soul mate sat looking down at their newborn daughter arm in arm, their bodies giving off a glow of light that seemed to grow with each passing second, until all that was left for him to be able to see was the outline of their silhouettes.
“What shall we call her?”
“Tatiana.”
A faint smile touched Zeus’s mouth. “Tatiana,” he echoed. He blinked. The hospital room faded and disappeared. He glanced around him. He had returned to Mount Olympus. An instant silence fell. Poseidon stepped forward and loomed over him in silence, lines of grief etched into his face. Dylan stood next to his father trembling visibly, his fingers clutched around his trident. Hera stared out from the shadows, tears rolling down her cheeks. Zeus arched his head back slowly, pain sweeping through him. His veins rippled and bulged in the side of his neck and down his arms, burning beneath his skin. His lungs seized and his mouth dropped open in a long rattling gasp. His flesh withered and shrank, his hard chiselled features mummifying. For one frozen moment his lifeless husk stood frozen in perfect balance, before it toppled over and struck the ground, disintegrating into ash. On the other side of the world his soul mate screamed.