Centaurian

All Rights Reserved © 2022, Rick Haydn Horst

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mount Olympus is Greece's tallest mountain. It has an array of fascinating flora and fauna, waterfalls, and incredible views topped by fifty-two craggy peaks, and every year, thousands of regular mortals trek up and down Mount Olympus, all heedless of the knowledge that their feet tread upon the earthly foundations of the abode of the gods from the divine realm, who they believe to be nothing more than myth. Olympus has coexisted there in the primordial aether atop its mountainous namesake since the Titanomachy.

Ronan teleported to the divine realm, just outside the gates, near the base of the acropolis. He found himself in a rectangular courtyard flanked by two marble fortifications highlighted with architectural fret. He took in his surroundings, and the air held the warmth of early summer and the sweet fragrance from a variety of perpetual blossoms from the gardens of Olympus. The sun in the cloudless sky illuminated the intricate marble and gold mosaic beneath his feet, whose vanishing edge several yards behind him, told that he stood near a cliff, beyond which seemed to lay nothing.

He could see little of Olympus apart from its only entrance, a towering columned and arched gateway made of white marble inlaid with metallic gold. It appeared that no one guarded the gates, and he thought to hurry through the golden bars. As he approached, three sisters of incredible beauty known as the Horai appeared, dressed as guards with golden helmets and armor, carrying adamantine swords whose razor-sharp blades they had kept inside their scabbards.

"Welcome, Centaurian," said the middle one. She nodded her head acknowledging him. "We have awaited you."

His brows rose in curiosity. "Who are you?"

"I am Eirene, the goddess of Peace."

"Eunomia, the goddess of Good Order."

"And I am Dike, the goddess of Justice."

"Ah...Peace, Good Order, and Justice, three goddesses whom I admire greatly," said Ronan. "Given your importance—if I may so inquire—why do

you

have the task of guarding the gates?"

"An astute question," said Dike who glanced at the sister beside her.

"For millennia, we have stood here," said Eirene, "initially believing our appointment held honor. We have come to realize that we stand outside the gates of Olympus to give Zeus free reign to distort a meaningful Peace, impose his own tyrannical Order, and pervert the spirit of Justice. At great risk, we have discussed this and have made a conscious choice."

Their unsmiling faces no longer held Ronan's gaze, and with their heads held high they maintained a forward stare reflecting their united resolve."

"We know why you have come," said Eirene, "and you may pass." Whereupon she stepped to the side of the passage.

"With our blessing," said Eunomia who did the same.

"And may Justice prevail," said Dike who copied her sisters.

Ronan thanked them, and as he moved to the gate, three heroically handsome naked men, rippled with muscle, emerged from behind a pillar on the other side. One god looked in his thirties along with his two identical twins in their early twenties. The younger ones looked genuinely pleased to see him, and unlike when the older one lived on Earth, he had well-kempt hair and beard. His overall appearance outshone any statue ever created of him. Ronan knew him from Chiron's memories; it was his former pupil Heracles. He stood staring at Ronan for a moment, the figure of a model athlete and Olympian.

"Hello, Centaurian," he said through the gate. "These are my sons Alexiares and Anicetus."

"Hello," Ronan said to them. "Like you, your sons certainly are handsome, Heracles."

His brows drew together. "You are half Chiron, and we discussed this; you should know how I hate that name."

"Still not quite 'Hera's Glory' after all this time, Alcides?"

"The things she did and made me do are unforgivable, and she will remain my enemy for eternity. She is no better than Zeus, and he let her do it. When Athena brought me here, Zeus made me gatekeeper only to help Hera avoid me. We have an uneasy truce. That's about all."

"You know why I'm here," said Ronan.

"Yes."

"Will you let me pass?"

"Zeus ordered me never to let you in," he said, and he tapped the golden bars between them, "but you probably could rip these gates down with one finger."

"At this point, I wouldn't even need my hands. I'm just trying to be non-combative."

When a rumble of thunder echoed throughout Olympus, they both noted it, and a deafening clash of a close lightning strike followed.

"Hmm," Heracles said with a little tip of his head, "he knows you're here; you might want to change tactics."

"You told him I was here?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's Zeus; I had to."

Ronan nodded. "I understand." He concentrated and stepped through the bars with a fiery embering that allowed him to slide through.

The three men's eyes went wide as they backed away. "The gates are gold-covered adamantine. That should be impossible," said Heracles.

"Really? No one told

me

that."

"We're glad you're here," said Alexiares. "The six of us will follow."

Ronan nodded and hurried away.

Beyond the gates, Ronan faced a right turn to a wide golden stairway that followed the marble wall, curving to the left and upward around the base of the acropolis. To his right lay the line of life-size statuary of lesser gods. They stood atop the newel piers of a railing along the cliff edge, a drop so far down, the bottom disappeared into the cloud cover below. As he raced up the curved stairway, he would have passed a few hundred statues before reaching the top, but he realized that he had no memory of Chiron ever visiting Olympus, so he had no knowledge of its layout. He hadn't a clue where to find the temple to Zeus. So, he burned away his shirt, manifested his giant white wings, and took to the air.

Due to its extreme age, and contrary to all expectations, Olympus looked old-fashioned in an unappealing way that couldn't even match the beauty of the Athenian acropolis in its prime. That acropolis—built hundreds of years later, largely by Ictinus, the greatest architect of ancient Athens, during the fifth century before the common era—had the benefit of many centuries of human innovations and a greater understanding of architectural beauty. Ictinus would have found the aesthetics of Olympus appalling. Rather than a focus on great visual appeal, what Olympus had was great quantities of gold—as if that represented the pinnacle of elegance and beauty. It had gold streets, gold roofs, gold this, gold that, it had an overuse of gold to the point of monotony which gave Ronan, who flew above it all, difficulty when trying to distinguish one thing from another.

Oddly, he could find no one on the streets and wondered where they might have gone. When he spied a thin trail of smoke rising above one of the courtyards, he knew where to find Poseidon.

The Brazen Bull of Phalaris consisted of a life-size hollow bull made of bronze. A hatch on its back allowed authorities to seal the condemned inside it, and a fire built beneath it would then bake to death its occupant. The method of torture and execution seemed so horrific and cruel that historians have had difficulty believing it ever existed, but they had pronounced it one of the worst ever conceived if it had, and arguably only a sadistic maniac would ever dream of using it. However, the Athenian Perilaus created it for the Sicilian tyrant, King Phalaris, who fit that description well. Perilaus told Phalaris that once the screaming inside began, it would echo through a series of chambers and tubes built within it and would exit the bull's mouth and nose sounding like those noises made by a real bull. According to the story, the king loved it and wanted a demonstration, but unfortunately, he had no one on which to test it. However, Phalaris had its inventor Perilaus who—in short order—became its first victim.

It hadn't surprised Ronan that the Brazen Bull appealed to Zeus, not only would it give him a means to torture someone, but he had taken the bull as one of his symbols when he cheated on his wife Hera with Europa long before then. This caused many on Olympus to note how baking inside the bull paralleled life on Olympus under Zeus's tyranny.

The courtyard in front of Zeus's temple held a beautiful garden, with a wide variety of colored bulb plantings in permanent bloom. In the center, the bronze bull stood atop a massive slab of marble that carried the scorch marks from the fires of the bull's previous usage. When Ronan arrived, he saw the fire had just started. From a distance, he reached out his hand and imitated grabbing the burning wood beneath it and flung it, causing it to fly off into the distance. He raised his hand concentrated for a split second, snapped his fingers and time stopped, leaving him in an angelic glow within his personal time-field. When he landed, his wings burned away in a line of fiery embering as he rushed to the bull. He grabbed the locking mechanism and tore it from its hasp. Having thrown back the hatch, he saw Poseidon inside curled into a ball, his face wet with tears in an expression of abject terror. With his hand glowing evermore brightly, Ronan placed it inside and touched Poseidon, giving him his own time-field.

Poseidon gasped in fright at the sudden change.

"It's me!" said Ronan.

"Ronan!" He said in panic. "Get me out of this thing!"

After helping him climb out, the moment Poseidon's feet touched the ground, he hugged Ronan.

"Thank you. I wasn't sure you knew what had happened.".

"Chronos told me," he said. "I have stopped time; that's why everything looks strange."

"You can stop time? You are as powerful as I thought."

"I should get rid of this..." Ronan placed his hands onto the bull and heated it. "You might want to step back a bit; I wouldn't want to get this on you." The metal oozed, dripped, and then ran down the bull's body until Ronan had left nothing but a solidifying puddle of bronze on the marble slab it stood upon.

"Where's Zeus?" asked Poseidon.

"I'm not sure, I suspect he's somewhere nearby. Where is everyone? When I searched for you, I saw no one on the streets or anywhere else."

"They're all here," he said and gestured to the darkness around them. "They stand watching from the cloisters surrounding the courtyard. Zeus had everyone on Olympus gather to witness as he took my powers from me before placing me into the bull."

"He took your powers again?" Ronan shook his head. "That needs to stop. Would you like me to give you power he can never take away?"

"Yes, please!"

"I will do this, but I must tell you that I cannot give you a realm of influence or the divine authority that Zeus took from you. I can only give you an equivalent power. And while he cannot take this from you, I still could. Having given it to you makes me responsible for what you do. I only ask that you never use it for evil, no violent revenge—especially for minor offenses—no petty vindictiveness, and no violating anyone either—sexually or otherwise. We have no legal system, so if you feel you must take vengeance upon anyone, make sure it's for something truly awful, like when Aquila stabbed Kakia for destroying Felix Raposo."

Poseidon told him, "I trust that you would only take my power if I actually deserved to lose it. With Zeus? Not so much."

Ronan laid his hand on Poseidon's chest, and as the energy flowed to him, he took in a sharp breath as he felt the surge.

Breathing heavily, he said, "This feels different."

"You're probably stronger than you were," said Ronan. "You should have seen Liam when I gave him his powers."

"So, Liam has gone through apotheosis. I told you he would."

"Yeah, that wasn't a pleasant experience for him." Ronan held out his hand, manifested a brilliantly lit time-sphere, and tossed it into the air where it hung unsupported about fifteen feet above them. He made a hand gesture to brighten it further, illuminating the entire courtyard.

Within the cloisters, there stood those who lived on Olympus. Ronan then understood why Athena told the lie. It wasn't enough for Zeus to torture people; he made his subjects watch as a warning.

Ronan gazed about to find the miscreant. "Let's find Zeus."

A search of the courtyard and the temple told of his absence. When Ronan came across Athena in the crowd, he decided to unlock them all to ask what they saw. The moment Athena saw Poseidon, she hugged him in relief and thanked Ronan.

Behind them, from the direction of the courtyard, came a belligerent voice from a god approaching them. "You should not interfere with the king's decisions. I will defend my father and his throne." When Ronan turned to see the golden-chest-plated god who had spoken, everyone backed up as the god punched Ronan in the face with all his might, after which, the assailant yelled out in agony cradling his hand. Ronan found the god devilishly attractive with that wild and dangerous bad boy vibe that looked more than willing to cuckold his own brother, slay a thousand men without a second thought, and immediately begin to lay a thousand women with a virility of a thousand gods.

"Ah, it's you, Ares," said Ronan. "What a handsome god of savage warfare and slaughter you are. But now, I see why many of the gods find you so annoying."

His upturned right hand lay shattered and crippled in the palm of his left. "I have fought many battles against a multitude of fearsome enemies and never have I broken a bone! What

are

you made of?"

"Ooh," said Ronan, "snips and snails and puppy dog tails, probably. Here, allow me." He used his forefinger to touch Aries's hand, and it began a line of embering that mended his injury.

Unfortunately, the moment it healed, he drew his sword and everyone around them retreated even farther. "I will not allow you to dethrone my father!"

"You're a right old stereotype, aren't you?" asked Ronan. "I have noted your objection. However, you are but one voice among many. For now, let us listen to what others have to say."

Ronan hadn't bothered to stop Ares when he made an unsuccessful attempt to slit his throat with his sword. He grabbed the adamantine blade and jerked the weapon from Ares's hand. As everyone looked on, they gasped as he started at the tip, manipulating the metal as he folded the blade—end over end—until it met the hilt. He then handed it back to Ares.

"That was my favorite sword."

"And this is my favorite neck," said Ronan. "Do you know why Zeus has used torture to keep you all in line, and never destroyed any of you? It's not because he's so forgiving or cares about you, it's only because he hasn't the power to do it. You're lucky, Ares, that I'm not like your father, or else, I wouldn't hesitate to take you by the pollex and hallux—as I had with Kratos—jump into the sky with you and vaporize your ass. So, I suggest you reach deep inside yourself and find the discipline to listen, or at the very least remain quiet and non-disruptive."

Poseidon grew tired of it. "Why don't you just freeze him in time...permanently?"

"Because, as the opposition, he should hear other voices besides the one in his head telling him to kill, maim, and slaughter." He addressed them all. "I don't know how many of you agree with Ares, but I want to thank you for taking a moment to listen. I have been asked to remove Zeus from the throne by those who are tired of his tyranny and torture. I would find it helpful to know how many of you would ask me to remove him. One thing is certain, even if only a minority of you want his removal, something, somehow, must change."

"I want Zeus to remain the King of the Gods," said Eris, the goddess of strife and discord. "I agree with his methods of punishment. Why should those of us loyal to Zeus lose him in favor of the will of traitors?"

"I agree," said Enyo, the goddess of destruction. "If you attempt to remove Zeus, I will call for civil war."

"There aren't enough of us who disagree to mount a civil war," said Apate, the goddess of deceit.

"You do this Centaurian, and we will make you regret it," said one of the Erinyes, the goddesses of vengeance, of which there were several.

Ronan turned to Athena and Poseidon. "This may be more complicated than I anticipated."

Poseidon whispered, "I told you that some gods were evil by their nature."

A goddess with braided hair encircling her head came forward. She wore a snowy white chiton whose drape resembled a fluted column. Knowing Ronan's power, she uncharacteristically restrained herself. "You do not belong here," she said to him. "Who are you to interfere with the gods?"

Ronan asked, "Who is Zeus to interfere with

me

?"

"He is the King of the Gods."

"Well, he's not

my

king. And which goddess are you? Olympus has so many."

"I am queen."

"Ahh, well, if it isn't Hera, the queen of petty revenge. I expect no answer to this question, I only ask it as food for thought. Do you not care what Zeus does, other than when he's cheating on you? Surely, you remember when he tortured you. He has harmed you, just as he has harmed many other people, not just long ago, but recently. Today, he nearly killed a good friend of mine. He deserves no one's loyalty." As Ronan spoke to them all, several within the crowd loyal to Ronan separated themselves and moved to stand behind him. "You ask me, who am I to interfere? Half of me is Chiron—a son of Cronus—so I am brother, uncle, cousin, or some such distant relation to all of you. So, do I belong here? Not to live, perhaps, but certainly related enough to drop by without calling first. As for the topic of interfering, I hold no enmity for any of you, but since I'm the only one powerful enough, I cannot allow Zeus's actions to go unchallenged. He would just continue to harm others, and for the sake of all that's good and decent, I will not allow that.

"I know that long ago many of you also did horrible things for whatever reason, but that is the past. However, I want it to go on record, that the Earth and its people are now under my protection. A protection—I will add—which also extends to those of the divine realm who request it, and I have had such requests.

"I know some of you have already made this choice, and I commend you for that. You have my admiration and gratitude. But the rest of you, have the choice to either learn to embrace the larger community and get along or—at a bare minimum—you can adopt a benevolent indifference to its existence, for I refuse to tolerate anyone acting against it."

"And if we are the ones who refuse?" asked Hera.

"I will make this exceedingly clear," he said. "By your actions, if any of you make yourself an enemy to humanity, the Earth, or any of your fellow divinities under my protection—including civil war—you will have made me your enemy. At that point, I would consider every aspect of your transgression before I respond to it. However, rest assured that I have no need to torture anyone. I have plenty of other options. I ask so little, just play nice with others and mind your own business. If anyone refuses to do that...well, we'll just see how that works out for you. Zeus has already made himself my enemy, so you may wish to reconsider following him. I must ask that those of you who wish to live in peace and recognize that things must change to stand behind me with the others." A few others joined them.