Chapter 53: Helios—Phaethon (1)
Olympus had lost cherished cities and shouldered blame to clear Poseidon’s name.
What made it worse was that a small jab from Olympus’s enemies had grown into something much larger.
“Not easy at all… It hasn’t even been that long since we resolved the matter with Ares…”
Though Zeus’s rule remained unshaken, the affair of Argos had revealed that the Olympian order had holes—several of them, in fact.
He had managed to patch up some of those gaps with swift action, but the largest one remained.
It was the enduring power of the Titans within Olympus itself. Though they had once fought on the gods’ side during the Titanomachy, Zeus and Hera wanted a far stronger, centralized rule centered on themselves—and had gone so far as to use their own children’s affairs as excuses for purges.
“Iris, it seems the Titans still refuse to cooperate with Olympus.”
“Ah… Lady Hera, it can’t be helped. Many of them are too powerful, after all. You know how strong gods can be…”
“True. Just look at Helios. Even mortals praise him as much as they do Zeus himself. He can’t exactly be replaced.”
“Yes, and what of Lady Selene and Lady Eos? Their moonlight and dawn are said to bless all who live beneath the sky.”
“And Hecate?”
“She’s… a little terrifying.”
“…”
The fact that even Hera would speak of them this way said it all: some of the Titans were so powerful and influential that they lived entirely as they pleased.
You could call it freedom — but in truth, their behavior was closer to indulgence and defiance.
Because of them, great breaches had opened within Olympus, such as the one they were dealing with now.
Further investigation had even revealed that some of the Titans already knew what was going to happen.
“But punishing them would be… troublesome.”
The Titans were united under the influence of Helios and his siblings, making them nearly untouchable.
There were several reasons for this.
First, after the Titanomachy, when the gods divided the powers of earth and sky among themselves, Helios took nothing—save for the island of Rhodes, which he received through Poseidon’s goodwill.
Given Helios’s and his sisters’ valor during the war, he could have claimed much more, but he hadn’t.
This act aligned perfectly with Zeus’s desire to limit Titan influence, and in return, Zeus entrusted Helios with oversight of the Titans who had fought on the gods’ side.
Of course, Helios and his sisters were far too busy to pay much attention to them. Ironically, this neglect made him respected among the Titans as a selfless and incorruptible leader.
Second, no one but Helios could bear the divine name of the Sun.
Apollo, son of Zeus, might share that title, but he could not drive Helios’s chariot.
The steeds—Pyrois, Eous, Aethon, and Phlegon—were so fierce that even Zeus himself would struggle to control them.
These divine horses, said to be as noble and fearsome as the Hydra, the Griffin, or Pegasus, would attack even a god if they failed to recognize their authority.
Thus, with Helios’s irreplaceable role and the Titans who served under him, punishment was not so simple.
***
“Brother, what now? Hephaestus is back, Ares is tame—yet Titans remain strong.”
“Why ask me? The affairs of the world are your concern, not mine.”
“Must you always be like this?”
Zeus had come to Poseidon to discuss the Titans — and only ended up losing his temper.
He knew full well that Poseidon understood what he was implying but chose to feign ignorance. That, more than anything, irked him.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk… Why do you insist on meddling with Helios and his sisters?”
Zeus glared sharply at Poseidon.
“You know as well as I do. They may be good, but they’ve become the rallying point for the Titans. Look at the Argos incident—none of them were punished.”
Poseidon nodded. Zeus wasn’t wrong.
Helios did tend to shield the Titans under his care, perhaps more than he should.
In the sea, the central figures of divine power had long been weakened—most of them lost in the wars with Pontus. The nymphs and ancient sea gods were now centered around Amphitrite and Eurynome, Poseidon’s wives. But the heavens were different.
Olympus was held together by the sheer might of Zeus and Hera. If that strength faltered, the Titans might unite again at any time.
The most dangerous of them had been imprisoned in Tartarus, but not all the Titans had been chained.
Helios himself would never rebel — but still, as long as there was even a possibility, Zeus could not abide the risk.
“But who could replace Helios, Selene, or Eos? Even we could not handle their chariots as they do.”
Zeus, too, knew Poseidon was right. For that reason, he could not move against them.
He would have preferred to entrust the role to his own children, Apollo and Artemis, but there were limits to what they could do.
“Haa… this is troublesome.”
“Hahaha! Then hand the problem to Hades. He’s still grinding his teeth down below.”
“Don’t be absurd. I’d rather die than do that.”
Hearing such madness, Zeus downed the rum before him in one gulp, then vanished in a flash of light.
Left behind, Poseidon rested his chin on his hand and thought..
‘So Zeus is scheming again. He probably came here just to make sure I wasn’t planning anything myself.’
The god of the sky was as cunning and calculating as ever.
“Helios, hmm…”
Zeus could already guess what kind of trick he might pull, but even aside from that, Helios was an extraordinary god.
The mere fact that his children were the ancestors of the race known as witches was enough proof of his power.
On earth, witches were the most magically gifted and powerful of the few mystical races, and every one of them could be said to carry the blood of Helios.
So, when Zeus looked at Helios, it was obvious what he would see as the god’s greatest weakness: Phaethon, the son he loved most, who lived on earth.
Of all Helios’s children, Phaethon was the weakest — the one most easily swayed by other gods.
Phaethon was born from the union of Helios and Clymene, daughter of Oceanus — a child of both god and nymph.
But because Helios was always busy, he couldn’t care for his son himself. Instead, he entrusted Phaethon to King Merops, a mortal man he loved dearly.
In doing so, King Merops married Clymene and formally adopted Phaethon as his own son — a precaution against any possible danger.
***
“Hera, don’t you think that boy Phaethon looks naïve enough to be easily used?”
“Zeus, what do you plan to do by using such a child? You’d bring shame upon yourself as a god.”
“Hera, I don’t mean to use him for anything serious. I just want to put a small blemish on Helios’s reputation — and perhaps, if the boy ever ascends to godhood, make him favor me over his father.”
Hera shook her head.
‘To think that after seeing some of his own children favor Poseidon over himself, he would try to use that same tactic…’
“Tsk. You’d best not do something with such a high chance of failure. We can’t act the way Poseidon does.”
Zeus acknowledged the truth in Hera’s warning.
Still, what he planned to do was merely to give Phaethon a gentle push — to plant a faint seed of doubt.
“I only intend to make the boy question things a little.”
***
“You’re Helios’ son?”
“You really believed your mother’s story and think you’re the son of a god? Phaethon, when did you become so foolish?”
The young Phaethon trembled with rage at his friends’ mockery.
Usually, their teasing would stay at the level of harmless jokes, but today they had crossed the line.
What angered him most was that, even though he truly was the son of Helios, he had no way to prove it.
He was already more gifted than his peers — still young, yet already receiving invitations from the Mage Tower and the Knights’ Order — clearly far above the average human.
But he was not so extraordinary that people would immediately believe he carried divine or nymphic blood. And Helios himself had never appeared to confirm it.
“Fine. I’ll prove it.”
Fury and humiliation fueled his resolve.
He stormed the palace, finding Clymene.
“Mother, I can’t stand by and let them insult us any longer!”
“Oh dear, calm yourself. Those children are simply ignorant. As the son of a god, you shouldn’t lower yourself to respond to such things.”
“But what enrages me most is that I have no proof to silence them. I’m pathetic.”
Clymene sighed at her son’s words.
She had known that, since her son developed more slowly than the other divine offspring, a moment like this would come — though she hadn’t expected it so soon.
She’d asked her mother Tethys for a nymph seal… but never expected needing ‘Helios’ crest’.
“My son, you are indeed the child of the great Titan Helios, who sees all things beneath the heavens.”
“If you were not, how could you and your foster father, King Merops, still be alive? Helios is the one who sees through everything.”
Then Clymene leaned close to her son’s ear and spoke in a teasing, conspiratorial whisper.
“For instance, once he saw Aphrodite and Ares together — and spread the tale, bringing them both to shame.”
She then took Phaethon by the shoulders, kissed him on the cheek, and said softly:
“Remember this: he can see everything that happens on earth from the heavens — even more clearly than Hera’s Argus ever could.”
Phaethon calmed a little at his mother’s words, yet he could not let go of his desire to receive proof from his father himself.
The seed of doubt sown by Moros, at Zeus’s request, had begun to sprout.
“Mother, even so, I want to meet Helios — my father — and have him confirm it himself.”
Clymene gazed into her son’s eyes, which still burned with fierce determination.
She knew, as only a parent could, that this was not something she could stop.
“Then… take this with you. But remember this well — when you meet Helios, you must not ask for anything beyond your place.”