The Phoinix
Age of Demigods
By
S. L. Mancuso
Dedication
To my angel, you tethered me yet allowed me to soar.
When you smiled, the world stopped to bask in your warmth. You were my guide that taught me grace.
It may have been a brutal war, but we were the epic story in the eye of the storm.
“Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.”
-William Ernest Henley, “Invictus,” 1-4.
Edited by
Zachary J. Hisert
Contents
1 The Vessel
2 Love and War
3 Truth and Deceit
4 The Queen’s Prophecy
5 The Nightmare
6 End of an Era
7 Five Souls of One
8 Prolonging the Foretold
9 Fairies of the Alder
10 Memories of Old
11 The Dangers of Family
12 The Border
13 The Lost Brothers
14 End of the Sword
15 Twins of War
16 The Blood of Fate
17 Farewells
18 Alina’s Story
19 Lies and Prophesies
20 The Awakening
21 Face to Face
22 Her Father’s Daughter
23 A Family Connection
24 The Return Policy
25 The Betrothed
26 The Daughter of Death
27 Sacred Blood
28 Rebirth of the Queen
29 Annwyn
30 Preparations
31 A Divine Warning
32 A Brother’s Decision
33 Pride and Sacrifice
34 Acceptance
35 Binding of the Gods
36 Meeting of Two Halves
37 One Advantage
38 Fire in the Sky
39 The Heartaches of Love
40 New Beginnings
Guide to Pronunciation
Aeneos (Ah-nee-os)
Alina (A-lee-na)
Amulius (Ah-myou-lee-us)
Andraste (An-dras-teh)
Annwyn (An-wen)
Arawn (Are-oon)
Arelia (A-re-lia)
Aurora (Ah-roar-ah)
Bifrost (Biv-rost)
Cailean (K-ale-en)
Cnaimh (K-nay-v)
Cymru (Come-ree)
Dyfed (Dif-ed)
Elpis (El-pis)
Eoghan (Oh-wen)
Eversor (Ee-wer-soar)
Leora (Lee-or-ah)
Lupa (Loo-pa)
Nikolaos (Nik-oh-lous)
Pryderi (Pruh-dair-ee)
Pwyll (Poo-ill)
Remus (Ree-mus)
Rhea (Ray-ah)
Rhiannon (HRee-ah-non)
Romulus (Rom-you-lus)
Tyreneas (Ty-ren-ee-ous)
Acknowledgments
Marian & Tim McGowan for naming the fire in my story.
My old and new family who support my dreams and many delusions. My friends who showed up and carried me when I could no longer crawl.
Our journey has been captivating and treacherous. You all recognized a life worth living when I did not. The best part, it is not over yet...
Chapter 1
The Vessel
In the year 1184 B.C., the world was steeped in an era of war that promised to destroy humanity. The gods, concerned for the survival of their civilizations, sought to protect humans from their own destruction. In an attempt to restore order, the six pantheons ruling over Europe banded together to create a mighty force. They called it The Power.
The only limitation on The Power was its own imagination.
Five gods represented each pantheon, chosen to help govern The Power. Thirty gods in total assembled to create the War Council. The council convened on Mount Olympus guarding The Power until they unleashed it into the world.
The Power was a collection of godly attributes that each pantheon offered. Its raw form resembled a ball of bright white light. However, this new protector of humanity could not solely be a ball of light; it needed a definitive form, a form people can turn to in their time of need.
The War Council argued for days over the sex of the vessel.
“Men are the heroes of history. It is fact,” Ares, the Greek god of war, arrogantly addressed the group while playing with a dagger.
“They are often hot-headed and impulsive. Men can do more harm than good, or have you not looked upon your own wars, Ares?” the Norse goddess of the underworld, Hel, argued.
The gods sat in a giant throne room on Mount Olympus in Greece. White columns held up a swirling ceiling of blue skies scattered with white clouds. Violet silk draped in between the columns connected each giant pillar to form a ring around the room. In between each column, three marble steps led up to massive golden thrones belonging to the Twelve Olympians.
Ares slammed his dagger on the large rectangular marble table, which was long enough to seat the entire War Council. The Power floated above the table and shimmered at Ares’ aggression.
Leaning in, Ares spoke low and drawn-out as flames danced in his pupils. “War is cruel and deceptive, Hel. That is the harsh truth.”
Hel stroked a sleeping, emerald-green baby dragon in her lap without looking at Ares. Her long black hair hung in front of her face, shielding her purple eyes from the Greek war god. “War can be just; look at Freyja’s Valkyries.”
“Yes. Look at the women riding around on horses choosing men as heroes ordered by Odin. You have proven my point. Men are heroes and women cannot make sound decisions in battle without approval from a man,” Ares replied smugly as he grabbed a golden apple from the center of the table. Just as he brought the apple to his lips, a spear pierced the middle of the fruit.
“Ahhh!” Ares roared as he tumbled to the floor in shock.
In the background the Greek goddess of wisdom laughed.
“Athena!” Ares shouted, stumbling to his feet and adjusting his black and red armor.
“Yes, dear brother?” asked Athena with a hint of self-satisfaction. She snapped her fingers and the spear rose from the ground, gliding back to her hand with the apple still attached to its head.
“You call us men impulsive and irrational? Look at this, throwing your own brother on the floor for speaking the truth!” Ares clamored, picking up his chair.
“I did not throw you, dear brother. You fell. I merely tossed a spear in your direction. Some god of war you are, afraid of a little spear,” Athena jested, continuing her laughter.
Ares clenched his fists ready to explode. Before he could, thunder echoed through the giant hall and lightning singed the table in front of him. He looked up and found a red haired, red-bearded man lowering a hammer across from him.
“Thank you, Thor,” said Danu, the Celtic fertility goddess. She grasped her enormous, pregnant belly as she stood further down the table. “Ares, you and death go hand in hand. My apologies, Hades,” she added, quickly acknowledging Hades’ look of disdain, “but are we not trying to avoid war and death? Is that not why we created this?” Danu pointed to The Power hovering above their heads. “As much as you hate to admit, the protector of the human world must be gentle.”
At the end of the table, Minerva, the Roman goddess of wisdom, nodded her head in agree
ment as she recorded the meeting on her scroll. Without looking up she added, “Out of all the abilities and knowledge the creature will have, kindness is not a power that can be given.”
“Kindness is weakness. This is a time of war, which is why we formed this collection,” added the Celtic war god, Camulus. “I have seen many battles. I have seen ‘kindness’ play out first hand. It does not bode well for the deliverer of compassion.”
Hades, dressed in black Greek armor with his long brown hair tied back, stood on the marble steps to address the table.
His voice was calm, yet authoritative. “From what I have witnessed, men have the capacity for mercy, but often push it aside for personal agendas. History has portrayed women as merciful to end strife, which is exactly our goal.”
Arawn, the Celtic god of the underworld, stood with Hades on the steps. Draped in a black cloak that hid his features he said, “We see all who pass our gates. Right now death is sweeping the Earth, collecting more lives for the fields of the dead. Soon, there will be no one left to claim, male or female.”
“Hades and Arawn are right,” said Pluto, Roman god of the underworld, as he shimmered into appearance next to Hades, wearing black Roman armor. “My fields are full of men who have been slain. If men are ending life, then women should create it.”
Hel and Osiris, the Norse and Egyptian gods of the underworld, stood by their counterparts. The five Underworld Lords towered over the other gods. With their ability to summon the souls of lost soldiers, they pushed their shoulders back daring the other gods to argue.
Finally, Loki, the Norse god of trickery, tilted his chair on its back legs and placed his arms behind his head, lounging. “Sooo glad we can afford to lounge here gazing at your five wonderful faces, but can we hasten the council? Some of us have actual jobs. We do not wander around like you five and body count. Ha-ha! Body count? Its war! Body count! Ha!”
A low growl behind Loki stopped his laughter and he carefully put his chair back on all four legs. Loki looked over his shoulder to see a snow-white dog with red ears and red eyes baring its teeth at him.
“Good puppy. I meant no disrespect. Call your dog off, Arawn!” Loki slowly stood with his hands out in front of him as he backed away.
Arawn called out, “Cnaimh, asgall!”
Cnaimh lunged at Loki, but the trickster god vanished before Cnaimh could catch him. Above Zeus’ throne, Loki turned the violet silk draping into a hammock. He laughed hysterically as the confused dog walked around the room looking for his prey.
“Enough, Loki!” shouted a god wrapped in a black and green toga. The god snapped his fingers and the hammock flipped over. Loki spilt to the ground, landing face first on the cold marble floor.
Arawn whistled and Cnaimh returned to his side. Arawn then asked, “What say you, Mot?”
The Phoenician god of the underworld stood and several female goddesses smirked as they admired his tall muscular physique. He clenched his chiseled jaw in annoyance with a cold stare commanding reverence. He stepped in front of his five counterparts, addressing the table.
“We are six gods out of many, but we have seen more than all of your years combined. I have listened to intelligent debates and held my tongue during petty sibling squabbles,” he said, glaring at Athena and Ares. “Nevertheless, I agree with my brethren. Women bare a natural instinct to protect and heal, which is what our world needs. With our collective vote as lords of the underworld, we outrank any of your demands. A woman shall be the vessel: The Queen of all that is and all that will be.”
Uproar ensued after Mot’s declaration.
“How dare you tell us what we will do!”
“Finally! A male god with a brain.”
“The underworlds of this world will witness a war they have never seen!”
Boom!
An explosion of a thousand thunderbolts erupted through the room. Pillars swayed as gods sought safety on the ground. The only gods left standing were the six underworld lords. There were scorch marks on the floor, the stone pillars were missing chunks, and smoldering holes decorated the silk curtains.
“The Power seems to agree with my decision,” said Mot, raising an eyebrow. “Now, let’s move on.”
Mot’s tone dared the council to question him. No one uttered a word against the Lords of the Underworld. Finally, Aphrodite wiggled restlessly in her chair. Mot sighed, waving a hand motioning her to speak.
“What should she look like?” asked a giddy Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of Love, her curly blonde hair bouncing with her enthusiasm.
“Always concerned with looks, aren’t you, Aphrodite?” Loki called out after he fixed his hammock.
“Silence, Loki,” warned Odin. “You have caused enough trouble here. Do not make Mot deal with you once more. Aphrodite is correct.” Odin bowed his head to the goddess then stood to address the table. “If the vessel is to be a woman, why not give her power over men? If she can subdue men with her looks then more lives may be spared.”
“The child should have mortal blood. Mortals have a love of life immortals will never understand,” suggested Athena.
Thoth, the slender but tall Egyptian god of balance wearing a headdress of a baboon head, jumped up and sprinted to a sacred well across the room. He withdrew a silver bucket of water and hurried back to the other gods. In one swift movement, he tossed the water across the table.
The water streamed down from Thoth’s end of the table to where Zeus sat at the head, forming a puddle that met all edges of the table but did not drip off the side. Thoth placed one finger in the water and an image emerged in the ripples. As he swiped his finger side to side, different images appeared. The images moved so quickly they were nothing but colorful blurs.
“Here!” exclaimed Thoth. The images in the water were of a man and a woman. “Meet, Tyreneas and Arelia.”
“That’s my son!” shouted Ares, violently tipping the chair backwards as he stood.
“And my daughter!” added Anath, gripping the table so tightly her knuckles were white.
“Yes, yes. Now that you have claimed your children, allow me to explain. A child of War and a child of Love mate to create the perfect balance in one mortal being. All we need to do is give the two demigods a push towards each other and then we have our vessel for The Power. When we deem the vessel old enough, we grant her The Power, making her immortal.” Thoth seemed pleased with his plan.
“I’ll handle Tyreneas,” Ares stated, folding his arms across his chest.
“Leave my daughter to me,” Anath said in an annoyed tone.
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