Faux DC Vertigo presents an all new original series:

Chapter Two:
Heaven...

by Josh Monaco-Tibbets

Julian felt his mind race over the events of the last few minutes.  None of it made sense, not in a practical way, yet something in the chaos of it all felt right.  The familiar face of the female curator, her enchanting word, the blind girl and her intense warning, even the mountain of a man before him were somehow familiar and comforting to him, like home.  Home as far as he believed it was supposed to feel.  Julian stared at the man towering over him, taking in the man's power, primal rage and hate worn upon the face, which was mostly hidden by a menacing blood red roman like helmet.

The imposing figure, Julian realized, had drawn back a large one handed sword, ready to strike.  As easily as time had slowed for him to ponder all before him, it once again sped up.  Julian felt his body react without a conscious thought from himself, stepping back and to the right of the attacker's strike.

The blink of an eye later, metal struck stone in an ear splitting cry.  The force of it pulled Julian back into the moment, and the events going on around him.  Someone was trying to kill him.

"Whoa!" Julian exclaimed, wishing his word were enough to stop the assault.  The Man's answer came with a sudden pain to the right side of Julian's face.  Stunned, Julian concluded that he had been backhanded by the brute a mere instant before his body slammed through glass and crashed into a solid object.  Julian let out a slight grunt as he bounced from the object to the ground.  Opening his eyes against the pain flooding through his body, Julian found that he was in a small printing shop, across the street from the museum.  He had been knocked some thirty yards from where he had just stood, through a plate-glass window, slammed into the back wall of the shop, and crash to the floor.  Julian felt his face flush with anger.  Gaining his feet, Julian rose, shreds of broken glass falling to the floor at his feet.

Across the street he spotted his assailant steadily moving towards him.  The sensation of popping knuckles barely registered to him as he clenched his hands into fists, and let out a guttural roar of spite.  He didn't know who the man was, and he no longer cared, all Julian could focus on was stopping the giant and returning the pain and humiliation that had been visited upon his own person.

As Julian began moving forward, lights, once off in the shop, began to flicker and explode with excess energy, his first step out of the shop was marked by the explosion of a transformer attached to a nearby power line.  A shower of sparks lightened the sky briefly, then the street was dark.

Meeting his attacker halfway, Julian noticed that Gore had put his sword away, seemingly interested in using his fists to continue the fight.  Julian was happy to oblige him.  Closing, Julian threw a powerful right handed strike, which was caught in turn, by the thug's massive hand.  Two punches to Julian's face followed, blurring his vision, and buckling his knees.  Unable to recover, he once again found himself launched into the air.  The impact of his back against one of the marble columns of the museum drove the breath from Julian's lungs. 

Sputtering as he bounced off the half shattered column, Julian managed to land on one knee atop the apex of the Museum's front steps.  Using both hands to steady himself, and forcing his eyes to focus on the white marble of the steps, Julian noticed crimson liquid dripping onto the marble, starkly contrasting the white tiled floor.  Confusion set in as he realized it was his blood. Touching his face, he located a split at the corner of his mouth as the source.

The fall of heavy footsteps drew Julian's gaze from his own blood, to the approach of his tormentor. 

"Are we done with this foolishness?" The man's voice reverberated off the walls, and rattling Julian's insides.

"No." Julian spat, gasping for air as he stood up.  The beast of a man paused, as if considering Julian's statement, then drew back his fist.

"Poor choice." Came it's graveled reply.  Julian braced for an impact that never came.  Astonished, Julian instead watched a stream of green energy wash over his enemy, throwing him across the museum lawn and into a parked car. crushing it on impact.  A moment later the blind girl was at his side offering her shoulder as support.

"You did that?" Julian muttered, air returning to his lungs.

"We have to get you out of here!" She said, breathless.

No longer able to concentrate, Julian's eyes blurred and his head throbbed in time with the car alarm screaming in protest to being destroyed.

The world spun, then dropped out from under Julian's feet for a moment, dropping him to his hands and knees.  Unable to stop himself, Julian retched upon the floor.

"Julian!" Came the voice of the blind girl.

"Julian!" It came again, piercing his swirling thoughts.

Slowly, Julian opened his eyes, to find himself in the large artifact room he had been in only moments before.  Before his battle with the brute, when the words of the curator entranced him.  Turning quickly his gaze fell upon the statue he had sketched, the Divine Gifts of the Pantheon.

"How long was I out." Julian muttered, perplexed at how he had arrived.

"You weren't." Was her simple reply.  Julian could here tension in her voice.

"How is that possible?" He knew he couldn't have traveled here so quickly, even from just outside.  The trip seemed almost, instant.

"That's unimportant, what is important is that in a few moments, that creature, Maximus Gore, will find us, and I can't stop him."

"Maximus Gore?" Julian asked, rolling the name across his tongue, a dim awareness of having heard it before.

"All that matters is he wants to kill you.  He will kill me for getting in the way, but you are his goal."

Julian nodded.

"Then what do we do?" Julian could feel his strength returning to him as he once again got to his feet, wincing through the pain, which he noted, seemed to be ebbing.

"You must accept your destiny." Was her curt reply.

"What?"

The Blind Girl began to move her hands in an almost hypnotic way, circling one palm with the other, as her fingers danced as if playing some sort of instrument.  The air around her hands glowed a gentle blue. Julian could swear he saw small, runic symbols flittering about as well.

"You are the scion, the blood of Zeus and Metis flows through your veins.  You are heir apparent to Zeus's throne, and that man, Gore, is your brother who seeks your birthright."

The words sounded absurd to him, yet Julian could feel the truth contained within them.  Running the words through his mind once more, Julian looked at the girl.

"Okay. Fine, we'll shelf that for now.  Who are you?"

Without looking in his direction, the girl smiled briefly.

"Elisabeth Bellas, the current Pythia."

Julian stared for a moment.  He knew the ancient Greeks sought divine guidance from priestesses who worshiped Apollo and could see the future.  Those women where known as oracles, and the head of their coven was known as the Pythia.  Reported to have magical powers granted by the Gods.

Julian slowly nodded. Shocking, though it may be, something about it all seemed, right.

"Am I going crazy?" He asked.

She shook her head.

"Why aren't I freaking out?"

She paused, or finished, for all Julian could tell.

"You're a God.  Somewhere deep down you have the knowledge of a God, of your true self.  If it seems true to you, or that it fits, it probably does."

"Is that why I've seen you in my dream." Julian said.

"Yes, and no.  It is unimportant for now.  Our surviving the next five minutes is, however, important."

"How do we do that?"

The Pythia pointed towards the Divine Gifts of the Pantheon.

"You accept your destiny."  She said.

The sound of the front doors to the Museum bursting open startled them both.

Julian glanced to the door of the room, still intact, and then back to Elisabeth.

"I don't understand!"

Another booming crash, closer to them.  Elisabeth shook her head.

"In order for you to know the future, it must come to you in a riddle.  Solve the riddle, know the future."

Julian's mind scrambled for an answer.  He looked over the sculpture.

"Accept my destiny, reach out and take it."

Moving towards the sculpture, Julian thought that it couldn't be so simple.  To take it, to pull the sword from the stone, and become a God.  It was too much, to unreal, yet, deep down he knew it was true.  Gently Julian reach out, caressing the sword's handle.  His hand passed over and touched the shield.  He felt a chill run down his spine.   With a careful tug, the shield came free of it mooring.   Placing it on his left arm, Julian was surprised at how little it weighed.  His attention returned to the sword, which when pulled, came away from the marble just as easily as the shield.  It too felt lighter than it should.  The next moment Julian's world went spinning as the doors to the room were knocked from their hinges by a single powerful blow.  Julian raised his shield as splinters slammed into it, then bounced helplessly off.

The Pythia was thrown to the ground as sections of the exploding doors ripped into her, and battered her backwards.  Julian stared, wide eyed, as Maximus Gore stepped through what remained of the battered door.

"ENOUGH!!" Roared Gore.

Julian gritted his teeth, feeling the tension in his jaw.  With a growing rage, Julian lept across the room at Gore, swinging the sword like a blunt instrument.  He knew the power of his strike, knew he could cleave through stone, knew his was a killing blow.  He did not care, he too had enough.

To his astonishment, the sword cut through only air as Gore's armored form slammed, shoulder first, into Julian's gut.  The sudden bash sent Julian into the air, flinging him backwards.  Striking the ground, Julian could feel the room shutter from the impact.

A primal cry of pain and raged escaped Julian's lips, fueling his limbs with enough energy to push himself over onto his stomach.  Trying to mute any future cries of pain, Julian pulled himself up, using the statue of the  Divine Gifts of the Pantheon to do so.  Panting for air against the burning sensation in his ribs, he attempted to straighten himself, only to double over from the pain.  His shield arm and hand fell against the Golden Bracers of the sculpture in an attempt to steady himself.  A spark traveled through his body, giving life to his limbs which no longer cared to work, and giving him breath.  He felt a sharp crack in his side as the pain eased.  He had gone from near collapse and defeat to a renewed energy and only the dull throb of pain.

In amazement he looked at the bracer he was touching, and felt the other call to him.  Using his sword hand, Julian slowly reached out, as a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder.  Uncaring, Julian took a deep breath and touched the second bracer.

"Time, "Gore began to whisper in his ear, just as a wave of distortion washed over him.  Julian, once again found himself dropping to his knees, managing somehow to retain the sword, shield and bracers.  Shaking his head clear, Julian heard Gore finish his sentence.

"To die?" Gore sounded confused.

Looking around, Julian understood why.  They were in his dream.  Specifically they were in the Throne room from his dream. Large, edged by marble columns, with golden veins running through them.  Julian was instantly ashamed that his blood was marring the beauty of the marble floor.

"Who dares to intrude upon me in this manner?" The voice Julian instantly knew, and knew it well.  It's deep and royal tones could only belong to one person.

"Who is foolish enough to seek the wrath of Zeus?" Julian slowly raised his head, behind him was Gore, also on his knees, and before him, stood Zeus.

Julian searched for words, "I, I'm," and found none.

"He is your son!" A woman called out from behind Julian.  he turned to see the curator he had, only minutes before, spoken to in the Greek Mythology room containing the Divine Gifts of the Pantheon.  She wore all white, her dress edged in what looked to be real gold.

"My son?" Zeus intoned, not ready to believe.

"Both are my Lord." The woman said, her voice lowering in respect.

Zeus crossed the room.  He was a massive figure, powerfully built.  A long white beard flowed from his face intertwining with his long hair, both frocked with streaks of red running through them.  He too wore white, also trimmed in gold, though his torso was bare, which gave him a sense of raw power, while his long red cloak, edged as the rest, gave him an epic presence.  Zeus seemed to consider the two new comers.  Julian felt as if Zeus could see all he had ever done, or would do, and he felt smaller for it.

"My dear Athena, you say both are of my loins, and I concede that I can see some of my features within, yet I am troubled."

Julian's eyes went to the woman, the one Zeus called Athena, watching her as she approached Zeus as if he were nothing more than a man, something Julian knew to be false. Zeus was no mere man.

"What troubles you father?" Athena said, her sincerity apparent in her words and tone.

"Whom do these two call 'Mother'?"

Julian felt a knot in his stomach, glancing over his shoulder he saw that Maximus Gore was no longer concered about him, and instead was keenly focused upon Zeus.

Turning back, Julian watched as Athena seemed to hesitantly answer Zeus's inquiry.

"One, known as Maximus Gore, calls no one mother, for he was born from a drop of your blood thousands of years ago."

As Zeus's gaze fell upon Gore, Julian could see him shrink away in shame, for what Julian didn't know.

"The other?" Zeus asked, his eyes shifting to Julian, who held the look between them, despite the unexplained joy and fear he felt.

"While he knows only a mortal woman as his mother, another gave him life."

Zeus, suddenly angry, turned on Athena, shouting "Who?!"

Unfazed, Athena squared her shoulders.

"The titan, known as Metis."

Zeus let out a cry of pure hate.

Athena continued, "Your first wife."

Zeus strode forward, snatching Julian by the collar, lifting him off his feet.

"You seek my throne, pup?" Zeus bellowed.

Julian could only look in awe at the sight of the enraged God.

"Do you?!" Zeus screamed again, shaking Julian as he would a tree branch, golden electricity began to dance about Zeus's hands and eyes. Sparking like a thunder storm viewed from miles away.

"Father!" Athena cried out, Zeus turned his head towards her, for a moment, Julian believed the gaze of Zeus would kill her.  It did not.

"How long have you known this?" Zeus spat.

"He's not here for the throne, father."

"Then why does he bring weapons to my throne room?"

Julian felt insignificant in the moment, as if he were a mouse watching giants.  Athena placed her hand upon Zeus's shoulder.

"They are a gift from me, a way for him to learn of his heritage, his birthright.  They were enchanted, made to bring him here."

As Zeus looked upon Julian, the anger faded from his eyes, and with a sigh he lowered Julian to the ground.

"What of this one?" Zeus said, pointing to Gore.

"He seeks to claim his birthright, in combat."

Julian took a deep even breath.  It all sounded insane.  Gods, Magic, Birthrights?  To believe any of it was to believe himself a God.  The son of Zeus. The thing known as Maximus Gore, was his half brother.  That Athena...Athena was his sister.  His full sister.  Joy flooded though him, as did a thousand more questions, and once again, doubt.  How could this, despite how he felt, be true?

"I seek the right to face my fellow heir in combat, for the throne!" Gore's deep, rocky voice brought Julian back into focus.

"The throne is not yet empty, my son." Zeus replied with contempt.  Gore, for the first time since arriving, got to his feet.

"It is the law, and my right!" Gore barked. Lighting crashed and crackled overhead in response.  Julian could feel the electricity play across the room, raising the hairs on his arms.

"I make the law!" Zeus returned, the power of his voice shaking the very mountain they stood upon. 

Gore raised his fist.

"You are bound by your laws, just as we are!"

"He is right, my Lord." Came a voice so quiet, so self pleased, it was almost missed.   Julian cast a glance over his shoulder and found himself staring at what must be another Goddess.  Instinticvly he knew whom she must be. Hera, Zeus's wife, Goddess of children and marriage, yet known for her cunning and her cruelty.

"Even you are bound by your own laws." She said.

Zeus glared at Hera, yet for all his power, it was clear Hera was right.  Turning to Gore, he smiled.

"I grant you your right, but of the time and place of my choice."

Still utterly taken by surprise, Julian could not pull his eyes away as Zeus turned to the room in front of Julian, now filled with almost two dozen Greek Gods.

"Tomorrow at first light, we shall have a battle to determined who is my rightful heir, Maximus Gore, or " Zeus paused, then looked down at Julian.  Swallowing hard Julian began to speak, only for Athena to interrupt him.

"Iconicus." She said, simply.  Julian felt a fleeting moment of connection to the name, then it passed.

Julian rested his head against the pillow and let the warm water penetrate to his bones.  His head still swan, full of questions, however he felt the doubt leaving him.  He wasn't sure why, but the longer he was there, on Mount Olympus, the more he felt like he belonged, like he was connected to something for the first time in his life.

Shortly after Zeus's announcement, Athena had ushered Julian out of the Throne room and into a massive complex which contained a living quarters, and to his surprise, a pool sized bath.  Before he knew what had happened, he found himself sitting in the relaxing water, surrounded by beautiful women, women whom Athena had revered to as nymphs.  They were short, thin, and exotic.  Best of all, they washed away the dirt and blood from the day's events.  Resting as they cleaned him, it was the day's events that he found himself going over in amazement.

A bright light began to appear, flashing for a moment, and catching Julian's instant attention.

"Oh, my." Came a female voice.  Julian smiled as he watched Elisabeth turn her back.

"Beth?" He said, happy to see someone he knew, even if it was only by a few moments more than anyone else from his day.  Julian laughed.

"What's the matter?"

Elisabeth pointed in the general direction of the half dozen nymphs moving about the bath.

"I, um, didn't expect to find you so...adjusted."

Julian looked around.

"I thought you were blind?"

"I am, but my other senses," She stopped herself, "it just caught me by surprise."

Julian waved the nymphs away as Elisabeth finally turned around.

"Where's Gore?" Elisabeth asked, confused.

"I assume getting the same treatment."

"Zeus knows you're here?"

"Yes." Julian said.  Zeus knew, and didn't seem at all happy to meet his son.  Julian bit back the disapointment.

"What did he say?"

"He assumes I want his throne. Gore wants to fight me and Zeus said it was fine."

"He has no choice." Elisabeth said.

"Why does he hate me?" Julian asked, sadness creeping into his voice.

Elisabeth sighed, seeming to struggle with the words.

"It was foretold that a male heir produce by Zeus, and his first wife, Metis, would one day overthrow Zeus and claim the throne."

"I don't want his throne."

"Not yet." The voice startled Julian, and tracking it, he turned towards the newcomer, instinctively knowing it's source, and he found he could do, as of late.  Standing at the entrance to the room was a tall beautiful woman.  He wasn't surprised by her beauty, after all, each of the Gods he had seen so far were more beautiful than any mortal.  What did surprise him was the instant connection he felt to her, as if he had known her his whole life.

"Mother?" Julian whispered.

The woman nodded, confirming his instincts, with a warm smile.

Elisabeth tilted her head, and bowed in the woman's direction.

"Metis, my Queen." Elisabeth said in reverence.

Metis bowed slightly towards Elisabeth.

"Pythia, trusted subject, I am sorry for your loss. Your mother was a truly astonishing woman."

Elisabeth's face contorted in a mixture of sadness, pain, and pride.  Julian was sure tears had formed in her eyes, but she fought them back, chocking out a thank you to Metis.

Metis gathered her long white dress and outer robes, which to Julian seemed to glow, brighter than even the golden edging upon them, and moved into the room.

"I wish to speak to my son, alone."

The Pythia nodded.

"I will see you soon." She said to Julian, then in a bright green light, Elisabeth was gone.

Julian would have started after her longer, if not for the mother he had never known standing in the room.  It occurred to him, in a sudden flash of embarrassment, that he was naked.  Metis seemed to sense his thoughts.

"Your form is neither something to be embarrassed by, nor something I care about."

"Still." Julian said. Metis smiled again, amused. Removing her outer robe, she placed it upon a nearby chair, then gracefully moved back across the room, her back turned towards Julian.

Taking the cue, Julian climbed out of the bath, and grabbed the robe, covering himself.  The robe seemed to shift its size, conforming to his body and altering its form.  It went from an outer robe to something akin to a one piece wet suit.  Julian looked on in shock and awe.

"Consider it a gift." Metis said, turning back to face him.

"What is it?" Julian breathed.

"God woven.  It becomes imprinted with the, personality traits of the person who wears it."

Julian forced himself to blink.

"Your father gave it to me as a wedding gift." She said, a far off look on her face.

A chill crossed Julian's body, he snapped his attention back to Metis.

"You will find my personality is, ever shifting." She finished.

Julian nodded, looking down at the 'robe' he felt a knot build in his gut again.

"Why?" He asked, voice low.  Julian refused to look up at her, refused to see her reaction or let her see his.

"It's not a simple answer."

Julian closed his mouth, refusing to say anything more.

"To be fair, my child, it did not start out as a method to gain a child."

Metis paused for a moment, Julian remained unmoving.

"It was prophesized that any male child bore by Zeus and I would one day overthrow him.  To retain his throne, he, he tricked me, entrapped me.  Thousands of years I languished, my only contact was him, and only when he needed my judgment.  After a time, I learned how to get out, for brief moment at first, then slowly I managed to maintain my freedom for up to a day, but always limited to returning by the rise of the sun."

Julian shook his head. "I've learned all of this, already."

Metis sighed, "Of course."

Julian waited, after a long pause he looked up.  Tears wear streaming down her face.

"The only way for me to be truly free is for Zeus to lose his throne.  The only way for that to happen was for us to have you."

"I'm a means to an end?" He felt crushed.

"Only at first. Once I held you, I loved you."

Julian turned away.

"Yet you left me!"

"If Zeus had known about you, he would have killed you.  So I wove magic together to hide what you truly were."

"You made a woman believe she had given birth to me!" Julian countered.

"Yes.  She had to believe you were her own."

Julian looked at the floor. His mother's words flashing through his mind. Words that a real mother would never say to her child.

"She knew. Somehow she knew, deep down, and it drove her crazy."

Metis said nothing.

"What of Gore." Julian demanded.

Metis braced herself, "He was my first attempt. When I was weaker.  He was, well, flawed."

"So you cast him aside?"

Metis squared her shoulders, sealing her emotions on the subject away.

"He was immortal, powerful.  His life was his choice, and his own making."

"That's it?" Julian felt his pain and anger build.  She was not the least bit remorseful, she didn't care what she had done. He was nothing more than a pawn.  In the distance lightning flashed and thunder boomed, echoing through the complex.

Metis looked towards the approaching storm, recognizing something in it.

"I have to go." She said, moving to leave. 

"No! I have more questions." Julian blocked her path.  Metis stopped, a bitter sweet smile crossing her face as she gently touched the side of Julian's face.

"The answers you seek, I cannot give you."

A protest died on his lips, as in a flash of light, Metis morphed into a large gray owl.  With a start, Julian ducked under the creature as it flew over his head and out the door into the darkening sky.

He stood gazing upon the collected gifts bestowed upon him.  A pair of bracers, a shield, a sword, and now a robe, all of the Gods.  Their blood flowed through him, and for sixteen years he was unaware of it, nor was the woman who raised him, who ultimately felt nothing for him.   He was hours away from a battle for his life.  No, a battle for Zeus's throne.  One that would end in the death of either a brother he had never known, or his own death.  In all reality, Julian knew, it would be his blood spilled.  He had no clue  how to use a sword.  He barely ever had been in a fight.  Now mere hours from his death, Julian felt loss.  For the first time in his life he had felt complete. As outlandish as it all was, he felt he was finally home.  Only to lose it all in a battle for something he did not want.

"It must be hard." Came Elisabeth's quiet voice from the doorway.

Julian shrugged.

"I'm a God, right? Can't be all bad." He said, attempting to lighten the weight on his shoulders.

"The paths of the Gods have never been easily tread. There are many obstacles, great challenges that they face."

Julian let out a sigh.

"Why this one. Why me?"

He felt Elisabeth's hand upon his shoulder.

"Would you prefer your old life?"

He considered her words for a moment, then replied, "No.".

"I have news for you." Elisabeth said.  Julian turned to face her.

"Yeah?"

It was Elisabeth's turn to turn away.

"I sought the future, your future."

Julian crossed his arms, silently bracing himself for her next words.

"What you cannot accomplish with this life, you will accomplish through death."

Julian's brow furrowed with confused.

"What does that mean?"

Elisabeth let silence be her reply.

"What does that mean?" He said again, stressing his words.

"I can't." She whispered.

"You can't tell me?"

"No." She said.

"Do you even know what it means?" Julian asked.

"The meaning is only for you to discover."

"That's not an answer!" Julian felt his frustration flood to his face.

"It's the only answer I can give!" Elisabeth shot back.

The frustration and hopelessness seemed to be too much for him.

"I'm supposed to die? Is that it? All of this just so I can die here, now?!"

Elisabeth turned back towards him, confidence on her face.

"Trust in what you know."

"I know nothing!  All I know has been a lie! Now, all you offer me is riddles?"

"Julian, it is the only peace I can give you."

Julian allowed the sharp silence to build between them.  He had no more words.  Nothing else to sway her, and in the end, he knew it didn't matter.

"Your wounds seemed to have healed." Elisabeth said, offering up a truce.  Julian smirked.

"I just clean up well."

"The bath has healing properties." She explained.  Any other day that would have been interesting.  Any other day that would have made him have a thousand questions.  He could hear Elisabeth move for the door.

" I have a question for you." Julian called to her.  Elisabeth paused.

"Athena used another name for me. Do you know it?"

Elisabeth nodded, "Yes, she would have called you, Iconicus."

"What does it mean?"

"It's your true name, and it's for you to decide what it means."  A moment later, she was gone.

He laid in bed unable to sleep, for several hours. He couldn't slow his thought or control where they went.  he knew nothing of this life, yet his very being craved it.  To be among those like him.  Too restless to sleep, he finally rose while the moon was still full in the sky, and dressed.  He put on the robe his mother had given him, throwing it on like a jacket, and, again felt a twinge of amazement when it shifted to fit his form, becoming something akin to a uni-tard. This time, however, it covered his feet as well.  Julian chuckled, thinking it to be like an adult one-sy.  He examined the golden bracers, lighter than paper, but extremely dense.  Inside they where layer with lustrous white feathers, which seemed to be edged ever so slightly in gold.  Placing them on, they covered his arm from the ends of his knuckles to under his armpit and up his shoulder.  Gold, with a golden strip, banning the ends, all without hampering his movement.  He hefted the sword and shield, getting a feel for their balance, and felt totally unprepared.  

A powerful energy suddenly filled the room, emanating from a presence which had entered the room.  Julian turned as he heard Zeus's voice.

"You certainly look the part." Zeus said.

Facing his father, Julian could sense the raw power the man had.  If a God could be called a man, in any sense.  Zeus's noble bearing was beyond anything Julian could have imagined.

"Father." Was all Julian could manage to say.

"I came to see if you were ready."

Julian looked himself over and shrugged.

"As I'll ever be." He said. Zeus nodded, stepping into the room.

"You have questions." It wasn't a question, and for some reason Julian felt compelled to answer.

"Why do you still have my mother imprisoned?"

Zeus raised an eyebrow.

"She is a threat to the throne."

"Even after all this time?" Julian felt his rage begin to build again.  An untapped source until now, Julian had never knew he had so much pent up aggression. 

"Do not presume to understand the weight of the crown, child, you are no God yet."

Julian took a cleansing breath, as Zeus continued.

"Besides, as your mother has recently shown, she is not exactly a captive."

Julian looked to his father, challenging him.

"Why are you here?"

Zeus sighed. His noble demeanor cracked for the first time.  Slowly, Zeus removed his crimson red cloak.  Gently he stepped up to Julian, and drapped the cloak over the young man's shoulders.

"Now you look like a prince."  Zeus stepped away as Julian felt the texture of the cloak.

Zeus seemed to considered weighted issues, then he looked towards Julian.

"You have not grown up, a God, for that I have much sorrow, but the fact remains you do not know our ways, and do not know what is truly at stake."

Julian shook his head, sure Zeus was attempting to find an easy way out of answering the question.

"Your throne?" Julian said with contempt.

"My retention, or loss of the throne is a mere stepping stone to matters far more important than friends, loved ones, or...family."

"I don't understand." Julian said, for what he felt was the hundredth time in a few hours.

"Know this," Zeus said, moving towards the door," regardless of who wins this battle, I will lose both of you." 

Unable to speak, Julian watched as Zeus left, realizing the true extent of Zeus's words.

As the first rays of the sun began to peek out from behind the mountain range, Elisabeth entered Julian's room once more.

"It's time." She said.  Julian simply rose from his seat.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

"I never thought," Julian started, then changed his mind, continuing instead with, "Yes."

Elisabeth's face, he noticed, registered concern, he chose not to respond.

They made their way out of Julian's room, and across a large, exotic, and lusciously green garden.  Once through the garden, the climbed the steps leading to the temple of Zeus.  Once inside they made their way into the throne room.  Everything around them was white marble with golden veins, or green plants, seeming to grow everywhere.  Julian took it in, as he had so many times in his dream.

The large room was lined by massive columns, with a single throne against a far wall.  The throne had intricately carved reliefs carved into its sides, which traveled up and over the seat to a large statue of a thousand armed creature, with a thousand eyes holding up the roof.  The throne looked out to a balcony, bathed in the morning sunlight, and open to the far side of the city, upon the edge of Mount Olympus.  Julian still found himself marveling at the skill of the artist who designed and made the carvings.

Sitting in the throne was Zeus, before it was Maximus Gore.  On Zeus's right stood Hera, and on the other, Athena.  As Elisabeth and he moved towards the throne, Zeus was the first to speak.

"I have closed this, event, "He said with contempt towards Gore," to all but those gathered here now."

Julian's eye caught the sword resting on Zeus's lap, and recalled his words from the night before.

"The battle will take place upon the terrace." Zeus gestured towards the sunny opening.  Gore bowed slightly towards Zeus, and strode with a purpose, to the terrace.  Glancing at Elisabeth, Julian joined him.

Once on the terrace, Zeus called out to them from his throne.

"This battle is for the birthright to this throne.  It therefore is to the death."

Julian looked at Gore, and felt his anger come easily.  This man sought to take all of his new life from him.  He would not, could not allow that.

"The battle is not over, and no birthright granted, until one of you are dead."

Gore smiled.  Julian looked over his brother's armor.  Red, blood red, with a one piece body suit of black underneath.  He judged his ability to strike where the armor didn't cover.  As the armor seemed to be somehow attached, instead of strapped,  to Gore, and they seemed to be paneled, Julian thought he had a chance of his blade finding flesh.

"You may begin." Zeus's voice echoed from within the throne room.

Julian waited, not allowing his anger to drive him towards a mistake, instead trying to channel it to force Gore's hand.

"Come on, Gore, let's finish this!"  Julian called.  Gore smirked.

"Let's." He growled, charging forward.  Julian reacted, bringing his shield up, finding he had anticipated Gore's attack, and managed to get the shield in front of Gore's sword.  He also felt an odd sensation following the sound of a bundle of sticks being broken, when he realized the blade may not have cut into him, but the force of the blow had shattered his arm.  Julian bit back a scream, and countered with his own sword attack.

Gore remained motionless until the last moment, when to Julian's surprise, Gore used his free hand to simply grabbed Julian's wrist. With a twist, Gore stepped into him, and drove Julian's own sword home.  He could feel the sword thrust into his gut, and out his back.  A high pitch stream of air escaped his lips, and Julian found he couldn't take a breath. 

Gore grunted, lifting Julian with one arm, using the sword planted into Julian's gut, to do so.

"I am Maximus Gore!  I am Nothos O Kilronomos! Destroyer of the Gods!  The bringer of the Dark Age!"

Gore stepped to the edge of the terrace, and Julian could see below him, the base of Mount Olympus, with its deep mists playing about the landscape and green warm forest. It looked peaceful to Julian.

"I am Maximus Gore, and the throne of Zeus is rightfully mine!"  Gore let out a bellow, and heaved Julian off the terrace.  Julian felt weightless as he fell, and wondered if birds felt the same way.  He was surprised he didn't feel any pain from the sword stuck through his midsection, and was even more surprised when he finally hit the ground

To Be Continued