At her daughter's words, Tethys sighed in disappointment for the two noble gods—then rallied with renewed determination. Seizing Tyche's arm, she pressed on eagerly, "What of Atlas, then? He is mightiest among the gods, heir to the Titans' strength and vigor!"
Tyche winced inwardly, scrambling for a convincing excuse. "Atlas? His brute ignorance repels me."
Seeing Tethys prepare to continue her matchmaking, Tyche seized an escape. "Beloved Mother, Astraea is my dearest friend. Surely I must prepare a worthy gift for her wedding. Allow me to take my leave now."
Finally, Tethys relented, producing a golden chalice from her robes. "Then take this as my gift to her—a sacred spring that forever pours warm water. Deliver it to her in my stead."
Accepting the cup brimming with clear water, Tyche hurried from the temple.
Once above the waves, she exhaled deeply, relieved yet unsettled. Perhaps it would be best not to return to her mother's halls for some time.
As she walked upon the vast sea's surface, a strange sensation prickled her senses—an unseen gaze fixed upon her. She lifted her eyes skyward just as Helios drove his solar chariot across the heavens. The golden-eyed god cast a lingering glance downward, his strong arms pulling taut the reins. The powerful lines of his form caught Tyche's eye before she could stop herself.
Their gazes met briefly, awkward and charged. Tyche gave a stiff nod, which he returned with solemn grace before continuing his celestial course.
Left alone once more, she watched the sun's glow vanish beyond the horizon. Covering her face with both hands, she let out a muffled groan.
"What has come over me? Have Astraea's words truly stirred something within?"
Shaking off the thought, she whispered in disbelief. A wave of icy divine essence surged through her body, extinguishing the warmth that had flared unbidden in her chest.
Gazing toward the distant, radiant peak of Olympus, she let a veil of white light settle over her vision, peering into the currents of fate to examine her own unrest.
"What is this?"
She reached out, plucking at a curling wisp of crimson mist drifting through the air. Curious, she studied its nature. The red haze spread across the land, filled with a dreamlike divinity pulsing with raw vitality. From high above, she saw beasts emerging from their dens, no longer wild but entwined in primal embrace.
"Eros' power," she realized with a start. No wonder she had lost control so suddenly.
The oceanic domain of Pontus shimmered with amorous radiance. Life beneath the waves burned brighter than ever. Even Uranus, slumbering in the skies, stirred faintly at the surge of longing rippling through the cosmos.
Mount Otryn trembled as all the gods felt the call.
Wrapping herself in auroral wings, Tyche soared toward the sacred mountain. Upon the throne sat Cronus, his expression dark with barely concealed displeasure. Rhea, frail and frightened, curled into the seat beside him, seeking solace in its shadow.
The twelve Titan sovereigns had already gathered. Gods and goddesses took their places in heavy silence. Tyche settled beside Astraea. Her dim throne glowed with pale azure light, marked by swirling clouds and snowflakes denoting climate, while a ceaseless-turning die flickered with threads of fate—echoing Astraea's starlit seat.
Astraea leaned close, whispering, "All await Gaia's arrival. With the sky stirring awake, your moment draws near."
Tyche nodded softly. "Uranus' severed essence, disrupted by Pontus' interference, shall soon manifest in a new deity."
Their quiet exchange drew the attention of the assembled rulers. Hera, catching sight of Tyche, offered a strained smile in greeting.
The two goddesses immediately fell silent, sitting upright in their seats of middle-tier divinity, their presence dwarfed by the overwhelming majesty of the elder gods. Lesser deities, sensing their curiosity, quickly averted their gazes.
At last, the mighty earth goddess entered. Since Cronus' public defiance, this was their first meeting.
Settling onto her massive throne, Gaia made no move to acknowledge her rebellious son. Instead, she turned sharply to Oceanus, her eldest.
"Did Pontus dare offer justification for his meddling?"
Humbly bowing, the river lord replied, "Pontus seeks to soothe the newborn consciousness, and the passion-born force upon the earth is fading."
Gaia's eyes gleamed like blades. "Foolish Pontus! To claim what belongs to Uranus—he has doomed us all."
With a single strike of her staff against the marble floor, she summoned a god from the mountains. His presence sent quivers through the lesser deities.
Eyes vacant, the being strode forth, plunging into the sea to seize the trembling Pontus. With one mighty hand, he tore away half of the sea god's divinity—and cast him, howling, back into the depths like discarded refuse.
Still seething, Gaia's face darkened like a storm-laden sky. She seized the flowing divine essence torn from Pontus and crushed it within her grasp. The lingering consciousness within was extinguished in an instant.
With a flick of her wrist, she cast the unclaimed divinity into the air, letting it hover like a forgotten relic. Her piercing gaze swept across the silent assembly of gods, each shivering beneath its weight.
"Will you cowards submit once more to Uranus' yoke?" she thundered, voice laced with scorn. "Shall he rule you again, as he did in that wretched past?"
The Titans flinched at the memory of their father's cruel dominion. Once more, they felt the sting of his tyranny, the shame of servitude. The goddesses trembled, eyes brimming with dread. Even the boldest among the gods exchanged uneasy glances—until Cronus rose at last.
"Primordial Gaia, mother of all worlds!" he declared, voice ringing through the chamber. "We shall never bow to the tyrant of the skies! We pledge ourselves to your guidance!"
A rare smile touched Gaia's lips. "Uranus has long sought to return, but I have grown weary of his relentless hunger."
She raised her hand. "Uræa shall stand between earth and sky, granting you time enough to prepare."
At her command, the vacant-eyed colossus dissolved into the land itself. From the soil arose towering peaks, their divine might halting the sky's descent. A new power stirred—a mountain-born deity, the embodiment of earth's rising strength, born from Gaia's own will. Uræa, her male aspect, had awakened.
"Tyche!"
At the sound of her name, Tyche steeled herself. She already knew what was coming. With graceful poise, she rose and bowed. "I await your decree."
Gaia's tone was solemn, yet firm. "You command climate, O goddess. None among us are better suited to inherit the dominion of the heavens."
Murmurs rippled through the gathered deities. Though second only to earth, sky was still a mighty force—one that could elevate Tyche to the rank of greater godhood. None opposed; none dared. Calmly, Tyche replied, "I accept your will."
"You must relinquish your bond to climate," Gaia continued, "and bind yourself instead to the sky. In doing so, the heavens shall embrace you. But beware—Uranus, though still slumbering, shall stir more swiftly should you wield the remnants of climate's essence."
Her gaze sharpened, sweeping over the twelve thrones. "And know this—the gods shall stand behind you."
No further words were needed. The sea-bound Titans, the luminous line of Theia, and the prophetic bloodline of Phoebe all pledged their support. Six sovereigns stood beside her, with Gaia herself as judge. Blind Themis lifted her scales in solemn witness.
Astraea leaned close, concern shadowing her features. "Tyche, you will face a greater godhead. Should you falter, even for a moment, your domain of climate may be lost forever. Are you certain?"
Tyche offered a reassuring pat. "I am the goddess of fate's choices. Destiny shall guide my path."
Astraea nodded. "Then I shall stand by you." For she too bore dominion over stars and prophecy—forces not easily dismissed in the realm of the heavens.
Grateful for her friend's loyalty, Tyche stepped toward Gaia's throne. Passing before the assembled rulers, she held her head high. The earth mother regarded her with unexpected warmth and reached out to pluck the drifting divine fragment from the air.
"This is your reward," Gaia said with a knowing smile.
Tyche understood immediately. Gaia did not believe she would triumph over Uranus—only that she might hinder him. This stolen essence was merely compensation for the loss of climate. Yet as she accepted it, absorbing its vast power, she found no cause for regret. The oceanic shard replenished her strength, even exceeding what had been lost.
From her divine flame, she severed the core of climate and offered it to the sky. At once, the celestial domain swelled. Deep within the void, Uranus stirred hungrily, drawing strength from the offering. His awakening drew closer.
Now untethered from climate, Tyche felt a hollow ache—but it was swiftly filled by the surging tides of the sea. Through the ancient essence now bound to her, she reconnected with water's primal force. Lakes, springs, rivers, waterfalls, and fountains bent to her will. No longer under Pontus' dominion, the water spirits now swore fealty to a new sovereign.
Opening her eyes, Tyche exhaled in quiet joy. Watching from afar, Tethys smiled in silent approval. Oceanus stroked his white beard, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.