“Hail, Zeus. New king of Olympus and all the earth!”
The young god was sitting on the ornate, gold cast throne which had so lately belonged to Cronus. The massive marble room in which Prometheus now bowed on one knee reverberated with his strong voice.
“Ah, uncle. You have served well. Without you I would even now reside in the detestable bowels of my father. Name your dominion and I will grant it thee.”
It had been a brief but bloody war, every wit matching the warning of the fates when they said it would, be a “bloody conflict that will rend the earth in two. Prometheus had eventually commanded all of Zeus’ armies. The precarious position of the new order of gods had quickly become apparent but after his first few successes, Prometheus had successfully utilized his thousands of years of trickery and planning to turn the tide of first battles, then the war.
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“I want no dominion, Lord Zeus.”
“No dominion?” Zeus seemed displeased. Prometheus decided to take that as a good sign. The other Titans were eager to control everything themselves, Zeus was eager to share the authority over the earth. That was good.
“You could have dominion over the sea, to lift the tides at your will, summon mighty hurricanes, and command armies of monsters. You could take power over the land to the deepest depths, have possession over every precious gem and metal, push up great mountain ranges by the will of your word, and oversee the very pits of Tartarus and Fields of Elysium themselves. You could rule the seasons or the harvest, the fine wines or the feral beasts. Yet, you want no dominion?”
“There is no dominion I desire. Lord Zeus.”
“Then what about over those creatures of yours?”
“Over humans? You misunderstand me, Lord Zeus. I do not wish to rule over them, but toil with them.”
Zeus raised one golden eyebrow at that, but said, “Good, I am intrigued by your mortal creation and had wanted dominion over them myself.”
Prometheus frowned deeply—unsure what to think. Even Zeus, it seemed, would not understand.