2. Pillarbreaker

Oeros and Gaia had designed the laws of the universe together. They had determined the lowest possible temperature, and they, being Chiefgods, could handle that.

But they could not hold Ardex for long, for his temperature was even lower than that. Their hands froze, their cheeks, even their magic.

They studied each other questioningly. Until Oeros smiled. “Give it time. He’ll get warmer! Were we not equally vulnerable after our birth?”

Gaia shook her head. She wrapped another cloth around Ardex and cradled him, a Mother who thinks her love is enough to make children twice as big and strong. “I’m not letting him go.”

“I did not say that.”

Oeros waited an hour, a day, a year, perhaps a century. Time meant nothing for Chiefgods. He offered to take over, but Gaia’s body carried her first child as if it could not tire.

Eventually, he returned to his throne. With eyes narrowed, he observed the universe in search of problems to solve. All would be well. Ardex just needed time. The universe was slowly cooling anyways.

But for the first time, Oeros did feel the flow of time, as he slowly stopped believing his own lies.

A god who lets his first son die? Who can’t even bear children that survive? What a hopeless Chiefgod he would be. If multiple universes existed, with multiple gods, they’d laugh at him.

He felt an indescribable pride. His son! He could send him on missions. Ardex perhaps held powers they didn’t possess or fully understand. With the right upbringing … three was always stronger than two, right?

Gaia should have never tired, but Ardex seemed to siphon energy. The Mother of the universe wavered, then fell.

Oeros snapped out of his trance—but too late. Gaia hit the floor hard, though it sounded like the touch of a feather on pillows.

Ardex’ fall, on the other hand, sounded like multiple meteors peppered the floor. He slipped out of Gaia’s embrace and skid across the floor. He broke two pillars and a part of Oeros’ throne before finally coming to a standstill.

Oeros was not angry. He was impressed.

Ardex didn’t have a scratch. Oeros made sure Gaia was fast asleep, then unwrapped the cloths one by one. His son’s body wasn’t dark blue, nor dark purple, but black from the lack of warmth. A darkness that almost hurt to look at.

Yet Oeros kept looking. His son! Already mighty and powerful. So strong. So different.

Gaia mumbled something. Gods had never needed to sleep, so that wasn’t truly what she did. She was merely too tired and weakened to open her eyes or get in touch with her magic.

Oeros floated between her and Ardex, obscuring her view. He removed the final cloth. Before him lay a trembling ghost. A demigod with the potential to be incredibly strong, but now … now he seemed to die.

Ardex’ body swirled like patches of fog, pushed around by even the tiniest force. And when any particle almost touched Oeros, he felt a shock like never before.

He collected pieces of broken stone and held them above Ardex’ head. Without looking, Ardex slapped them away. A powerful, quick swing that carried the stones to all the way outside the throne hall.

Oeros was even more impressed.

“Ardex,” he whispered. “I’m your father. If you can hear me, open your eyes.”

For a tiny moment, Oeros could see right into the soul of his son. Then his tired eyes shut again.

“Change your appearance.”

Ardex tried to imitate the throne, but froze halfway through the transformation—half-god, half-chair.

“Forget it, forget it, go back to your own form.”

It was impossible. Ardex was too cold. The particles that created him couldn’t move in such temperatures. All the magic in the world could not make it happen.

Oeros panicked.

Gaia mumbled again. She could wake up any moment, though the deep lines through her face and body were a new sign of exhaustion.

Why was he scared of his own wife? He was the Chiefgod!

He made his choice. He touched his son, body against body, no matter how much it hurt.

It allowed him to send a spell through both of them. In a flash, they teleported to another place, far outside the boundaries of the Heavenly Palace. A place with blinding light and scorching heat.

They stood on the nearest star.

Oeros dropped Ardex. Due to hurt, due to fear, due to hope. His hands had become black as well.

Ardex fell against the star’s surface. Without the protection of the cloth, for they were left behind in the throne room.

His eyes opened. His body flashed with all the bright colors that gods could see—which were infinitely more colors than human eyes could understand.

He screamed and screamed.

Oeros’ panic transformed into blind magical bombs. This was what happened when you wanted to move too quickly! He shouldn’t have let Gaia stir his haste.

He dove towards Ardex and pulled him from the star, sending him all the protective magic he could think of.

Ardex had heated up, that much was certain. He was also certainly dying.

“Please, Ardex. Please.”

He cradled his son, who now appeared as a tiny star not much larger than a human baby. He kept crying. His appearance burned away due to the heat, creating a pattern of black splotches.

“What do you need!? I’ll give you anything!”

Ardex suddenly stilled and looked at his Father with intent. He spoke his first word: “FIRE!”

Oeros did not doubt and sent his fire magic right at Ardex’ soul. The flames extinguished. Ardex’ body took on a uniform pink color and … he smiled.

“Oh. Aw. Yes.” Oeros smiled and bumped Ardex’ nose with his own. “Yes, that gave us quite a fright, didn’t it? But all is well, dear. Here, come with me, we’ll return to—”

He felt a tug. Gaia already pulled him back. Could he ever escape from her?

A flash. He stood before Gaia again, back in the throne room. Her body was five times the usual size and contained a thunderstorm.

“What do you think you’re doing? Have you completely lost—”

The sight of a laughing Ardex made her shrink to the size of a mouse.

“He’s fine now!” Oeros said. “You see, it just needed time. Time and nothing else.”

Both parents held him and giggled.

“Come, come,” Gaia said. “We’ll show you which part of the Heavenly Palace is yours!”

Ardex kept shapeshifting. He was impossible to grab and wouldn’t let anyone carry or drag him.

Then he started coughing.

A fireball shot from his body and melted whatever was left of Oeros’ throne. Though the throne was made of the strongest metals in all the universe, it now dripped and created steaming puddles on the floor, like the liquid magma at the core of planets.

Ardex kept coughing. He leapt from his parent’s protection. As he raced through the palace, everything he saw had to be burned to the ground.