Chapter Six: The Boiling Rage of Fathers.
— Always a well-dressed fraud, who wouldn't
spare the rod, never for me !
Eyes that were normally warm and welcoming snapped open.
Instead of those baby blues, in their place were two blazing and golden irises. His normally easygoing demeanor vanished into thin air. He was trembling in fury. The rage that thrummed in his veins was what got him up from his temple on Olympus. The god that usually took the body of an eighteen year old, subconsciously aged to his late twenties with his anger. He looked like a father, like the father he was to his daughter. His steps were silent, but his hands were clenched into fists and his jaw was tightly wound together. His teeth were gritting against each other, eyebrows were furrowed, lips pressed together tightly, and the veins in his forehead and neck were bulging. The man he was going to confront might've been the most powerful god amongst the Greeks (mainly for his royalty) and his father, but that did not give him the right to hurt his daughter, his lovely darling. He'd seen it; The way the lightning struck on the bus, the way it had grazed his daughter's arm, and the way she and her companions had flinched so harshly at its sound and the wound she'd received from her grandfather's anger.
Apollo was fuming, and he was a hundred percent positive that his uncle was as well.
He walked into the Olympian throne room, where his family resided, talking amongst themselves. There was one missing other than him, his uncle: Poseidon. He smirked cruelly as the god of the sea entered not long after him. The both of them held auras of unrivaled fury that drew in everyone's attention. A small and fleeting look was shared between them, understanding passing through blazing gold and raging aquamarine.
In unison, the pair marched forward to Zeus, who looked smug as he sat atop his throne. His arrogant smirk fell at the sight of two raging gods. Separately, they were powerful. Together, they'd be unstoppable and that scared him — he was undeniably mighty, but he'd be a fool to think he could beat his older brother and his burning son. "What is it that the two of you need?" He still remained arrogant and confident, choosing to keep up his holier-than-thou act.
Poseidon acted first. The shimmering and sharp trident ended up at his brother's throat, keeping it in place threateningly. The Lord froze. The second to act was Athena. She'd placed a blade to Poseidon's throat, an eyebrow raised challengingly. The third to act was Apollo, aiming his arrow in between her eyes. His bow and arrows had materialized in his palms the second the goddess intervened. "Back away, Athena. This does not concern you, unless you stand with us. Your spawn was affected as well." The youngest of the fight warned her quietly. It was frightening just how serious he got over his daughter. Apollo was usually friendly. She gulped at the feeling of the sharpened edge of the arrow grazed the skin in between her eyebrows, but listened to him anyway. She backed away, sitting on her throne and looking away. Plausible deniability, she thought.
"I—we—warned you, did we not? You were to stay away from our children until this issue was resolved. You dealt a deadline and they are striving towards it, you intervened in their quest."
The air around Zeus seemed to crackle at the threatening tone his brother took on, electricity bounced off of his skin and he sent a wave of his power towards his brother. His attack was met half way with a wall of water. Another burst of power from Poseidon: A domineering thrust sent Zeus catapulting towards the nearest marble wall. The white stone cracked upon the impact, the god of lightning coughing up ichor. "They've humiliated me, Poseidon! He called me crazy and you're daughter," he looked at his son scornfully, "has never praised me the way she should, the way they all should — I'm the King!"
