The Summit of Gods [Interludium]

Far above the world of mortals stretched a realm shaped by pure divine will.

A realm beyond time, space, and death.

At its heart lay the City of Light, the palace of the immortals, the home of the gods.

Olympus.

The air was sweet, heavy with the scent of ambrosia, and the marble paths shimmered with every step.

Here, the gods gathered in their sacred halls, as they always did when the balance of worlds began to falter.

“He betrayed me!”

Hair wild and face flushed with rage, Dionysus stormed into the center of the hall.

“Hermes is a traitor! He rescued this... this mortal and my traitorous servant from the punishment they deserved.“ He stomped with his staff on the ground. “In doing so, he spits on our divine dignity and has shamed us all.”

At the edge of the circle stood Hermes, leaning casually on his caduceus.

He looked wearier than usual, but his smile remained.

“Coming from the god of madness, that’s rich...”

“You broke the rules!” Dionysus shot back, seething.

Athena crossed her arms.

“It wasn’t Hermes who lost control, Dionysus. You unleashed your fury on a girl who merely chose a path without you...”

“I made her what she is!” Dionysus barked. “And then she turns away from me, to run off with him!?”

“You brought a mortal into your world,” Hera said coldly. “What did you expect? You know how humans are, always falling in love with nymphs, maenads, and the like...”

“I ennobled him!” Dionysus snapped, still brimming with indignation.

Some of the gods exchanged amused glances.

Ares chuckled, his eyes gleaming with the hope of escalation.

Aphrodite smiled sweetly, as if it were all a game, idly twirling a strand of her golden hair.

“Must every dispute end in shouting?” Demeter murmured, calmly circling her hand in the air.

Then silence fell, for Zeus had risen.

He stepped into the circle, his gaze distant, as though peering through time and space alike.

“And what, Dionysus, do you propose Hermes should do to atone for his offense?”

The eyes of the pantheon turned to the god of wine.

“He sent them to another world. He should bring them back at once. Then I shall decide on a fitting punishment, for that mortal and for my... servant.”

Hermes rolled his eyes, letting out a quiet “tsk.”

Then Zeus spoke again, his voice heavy.

“A mortal enters a god’s realm. A satyr defies her master. And together, they flee into a world not their own. Now chaos threatens a realm never meant to know of us...”

Silence.

Even Dionysus said nothing.

“This is no longer about justice or who is in the right,” Zeus continued. “It is about the balance between worlds, a balance that must not falter.”

He stroked his long white beard, pondering for a moment, then turned to Hermes.

“You brought them into that world. You have seen it with your own eyes, have you not, Wanderer Between Worlds?”

Hermes gave a half-nod, as if it were of little consequence.

“Once or twice...”

“Then you shall show me. I want to see for myself whether Dionysus’s servant and that mortal have set something in motion that threatens our order, and whether it can be contained... before it contains us.”

A murmur ran through the hall.

Hermes slowly bowed his head.

“As you wish.”

Then he raised his caduceus.

With a soft whistle, a circle of light opened at the center of Olympus, shimmering, vibrating with energy.

Finally, Zeus stepped forward, inhaling deeply.

“Hecate!”

His voice thundered through Olympus, and soon a gust of wind swept through the hall.

Smoke filled the space where moments before there had been only empty air.

From it stepped a figure clad in dark robes, bearing a torch of blue flame.

A glowing crescent adorned her brow, where dark bangs fell in soft strands, nearly veiling her emerald eyes.

Hecate smiled faintly as she approached Zeus.

“Yes?”

“You shall come with us,” he said plainly. “And you will tell me what lies beneath that world’s surface, how its magic flows, and how deeply its roots run.”

Hecate bowed.

“As you wish...”

And so, Zeus, accompanied by the messenger god and the guardian of thresholds and magic, stepped through the shimmering gate.

The Threads of Fate began to weave anew.

Behind them, the circle of light closed with a soft, final crackle.

And there, between Tiberun, Yashar, and all the other lands, realms, and empires in whose struggles Lucius and Melissa were already entangled, no one yet suspected that the gaze of foreign gods had already fallen upon them...

...nor that a war of worlds had already become inevitable.