FANTASY | CONTEMPORARY FANTASY | FICTION SERIES | WEB NOVEL
Titan’s Daughter | Chapter 7 Part Two
Revelation
Gaea acknowledged that this day had been anything but normal. She wasn’t expecting her life to get flipped upside down on her birthday. But then again, no one expected to be told that they are a demigod, or as Brogdu so charmingly called her, “a godlet” — birthdays were supposed to be about cake and presents. Her day — heck, her entire existence — had taken a detour onto the highway of the bizarre. And there seemed to be no exits in sight.
“Unfortunately, with these conflicting forces at play, it’s going to strain you, Gaea, both mentally and physically.”
Despite the revelations so far, Gaea found herself oddly calm, like she’d just been told she had to start wearing glasses — inconvenient, sure, but not earth-shattering. Still, this wasn’t an eye prescription.
She shelved the wonder for later. There would be time to have a proper freakout later. Right now, she has to focus to understand. She nodded for Mr. Porter to continue.
“I had hoped — we had hoped — that your mother’s sacrifice would’ve been enough to suppress your Titan half,” he explained.
Gaea drained her tea but clung to the cup like a life raft in a stormy sea. She took a steadying breath, inhaling the last remnant of the jasmine aroma. Time to ask the million-dollar question.
“So, what’s this Creatious?”
Mr. Porter straightened his back, narrowed his eyes as if he were about to summarize the entire universe in a single sentence.
“It’s everything — the vast and infinite, the eternal and always. It is the universe. It is creation, the endless possibilities of what was, what is, and what could be — fate and chaos made conscious,” Mr. Porter answered.
The universe: conscious? Gaea felt like she’d been asked to fit a square object inside a round hole. His answer was more riddle than explanation, but she had a hunch that pressing for more clarity would only leave her more confused.
“Oh,” she managed, forcing a nod, hoping her confusion wasn’t as plain on her face as she felt.
She scribbled a mental “to do” list: figure out what the heck Mr. Porter is talking about. Survive being a “godlet.” Oh, and don’t let the universe’s consciousness thingy reconnect. No pressure.
“And by the way,” Mr. Porter added with a sly smirk, “I’m Prometheus, Noralia’s brother, and the last of the old gods.”
For some reason, Gaea found that she wasn’t even surprised. Today had already thrown demigod-hood, a conscious universe, and her mom’s sacrifice at her. An actual god sitting on her coffee table seemed like an average Friday, almost normal.
Her eyes drifted to a photograph on the side table — her dad, with a woman with toffee-toned skin and a crown of tight curls. Her mom. Then back to Mr. Porter, his ocean-blue eyes steady on hers, his blond hair ruffled by the ceiling fan’s lazy spin. Gaea hesitated, the obvious hanging in the air like a big, awkward balloon. But she had to say it, to confirm it.
“But… you’re… not like her,” she managed to murmur.
A statement of the obvious, sure. But in a world where her mom was a goddess and the mayor was a god, obvious was a matter of perspective. She clung to it, the obvious, like a lifeline.
Prometheus just smiled. “I’m a god, my dear. I can look however I like,” he said, his face fluidly shifting through a quick slideshow of different ethnicities. It was like watching that famous Michael Jackson morphing video, only this was live and happening in her living room. She watched, wide-eyed, as his skin color, hair, and facial features changed with every passing second — an international kaleidoscope, all in one man, no, God.
Obvious had officially left the building. Gaea decided she’d better start getting comfortable with the impossible. Because apparently, now it was just another ordinary Friday.
She found a silver lining and latched on. At last, Gaea thought, “Can I do that too?” she asked, excitement bubbling up.
Prometheus tilted his head toward her dad with an apologetic look. “Afraid not. You’ve got your mortal half to thank for that. Your look is a fixed deal.” And just like that, the excitement was gone.
But then she looked at her parents’ photo again; her mom’s arm looped through her dad’s, their smiles… She felt a warm of familiarity and a sudden surge of love for her fixed mortal half. It grounded her as she began to accept who she was: Gaea, half-titan, half-human.
Then, like a lightning bolt, it struck her.
“Wait, Persephone! She’s my cousin; she’s the other Demitasse, isn’t she? Does she know about all this?” Gaea’s voice brightened, and the thought of her best friend — now her cousin — being in on this godly secret brought some comfort.
Persephone, her birthday twin, has been her partner-in-crime since diaper days. They’d been inseparable, two peas in a pod, “three, Sprite.” And now, the bond goes deeper than she ever knew. They weren’t just best friends; they were blood. God blood.
For the first time since this crazy revelation rollercoaster began, Gaea felt something. She felt a connection. She wasn’t alone in this godly journey.
“About you? No. However, she once knew everything and still does,” said Mr. Porter.
More cryptic words — just what Gaea needed. The godly wisdom was starting to feel like a riddle, wrapped in a riddle, wrapped up in another riddle. What did that even mean? Persephone once knew everything, but now doesn’t. Or she still did but didn’t remember? Either way, it sounded like a lot of forgotten secrets and suppressed memories. And just like that, her relief fizzled away, replaced by a fresh set of curiosity, uncertainty, and a tinge of concern for her best friend — no, her cousin. This was proving to be one confusing ride.
Before Gaea could demand some much-needed clarification, Mr. Porter sprang up from the coffee table, clapping his hands together with a burst of energy as if everything that he just said was an afterthought.
“Now…” he announced, as if he were about to introduce the main event. “Our immediate concern is to get you registered and recognized under my sigil.”
The sudden shift in topic sent Gaea’s mental gears grinding. Registered? Sigil? Was there some divine bureaucracy she had to deal with now? She sighed, realizing that this godlet thing wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. It was more like a sprint through a labyrinth, with, presumably, a Minotaur or two thrown in for good measure. Because, why not?
As Gaea processed this new information, her father, Mr. Winters, who had been silent so far, threw in his own share of cosmic revelations.
“Your emerging abilities, like all halflings, act as a beacon, attracting all manner of creatures. You won’t be safe until you’re under the protection of a god.”
Great, it wasn’t enough that she was some magnet the universe was drawn to; now she had to worry about being the supernatural version of a bug zapper for all sorts of creepy monsters.
“And for that,” Mr. Porter said, “you’ll have to enter the immortal realm and make your way to the hall of registry. Every demigod must undertake the journey without our interference. It’s a test to determine if they are worthy of our blessings.”
To Gaea, it all sounded more like a plot line out of a video game than her life. But then again, real life was turning out to be more fiction than reality with every passing minute. She hoped she was up to this test. After all, she didn’t have the option of respawning.
“However, you will have a guide to assist you. Persephone will be yours. She made the journey two years ago, although she doesn’t remember. But once she crosses back over, she will remember everything.”
Gaea felt a strange mix of relief and worry. Relief that she would not have to face this alone, and worry that Persephone had been through this and hadn’t remembered.
Gaea’s father cupped her face in his hands. “I’m not thrilled about you going where I can’t protect you, but since your mother’s protection is fading, this is the only way to keep you safe.”
Discovering that she was part of a world believed to be mere myth and facing monsters intent on devouring her — none of these were the birthday gifts Gaea had expected.
Gaea stared at her father, the ever-present questioning look on his face, etched away by the deepening worry outlines on his forehead, sensing the weight of his words. She felt a bit unsteady, uncertain. Yet, underneath it all, there was a sense of understanding. Despite the harsh reality, maybe, just maybe, she was ready to face this new world, no matter what monstrous cyclops it decided to throw at her.
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