Coming in April 2017!
~Prologue~
As above, so below. Few understand the true meaning of the phrase, and even fewer can grasp the consequences of it. Deities are worshiped because they are made and formed of the mortal visions of them. We are given characteristics that the mortals can identify with. We are, in effect, just like each and every one of you. Humans needed something to give them hope, and we were eager to serve that role.
Yet over millenia, as mankind has changed and adapted, so too have the gods. While we were imbued with the goodness of mankind, we were also cursed with the worse aspects of humanity. Jealousy, greed, pride... in humanity, they cause disagreements, strife and bloodshed. As deities are more powerful than a mere human, their battles are far more deadly as well.
Very few cultures on Earth still hold a respect of their elders, of those who paved the way before them. The Olympians were determined to force the Titans to cede control of the Universe to the younger, more egotistical gods. The Titans refused. The shores of Thessaly ran red with blood, as they met in a clash of steel for ten full years without cessation. The war would become known as the Titanomachy, “The Fall of the Titans”.
When the Olympians and their allies took control, the Titans and all who fought with them were confined to Tartarus. It was a bleak existence, locked in a desolate prison beneath the worlds. Yet, one who had sided with his brothers and sisters was treated far more cruelly. Two brothers had fought viciously, without faltering, as each gave the other their strength in battle. Had others followed them, the outcome of the Titanomachy would have been far different.
Angered by the near defeat at their hands, Zeus separated the brothers. Menoetius was struck by a bolt unleashed from Zeus' fingertips. Unable to reach his brother for succor, his life faded fast, dooming him to Tartarus until the world itself began anew. Without Menoetius, Atlas was next to fall, and though he fought viciously, his power lay in the ability to draw on his brother in times of need.
Unlike Menoetius, Zeus didn't consign Atlas to Tartarus. Putting the two siblings together again could only spell disaster, as Hades' nether realm would be no match for the fury unleashed by the deposed Titans. Zeus had a far more insidious plan. Atlas himself would hold the heavens on his shoulders. For Zeus knew, as long as Atlas' progeny remained in the Universe, he would carry his burden to protect them.
Their grief was so heartfelt, legend has it that Zeus himself took pity on them. While most of Atlas' children were left to spill into the world in order to keep Atlas prone, seven of his daughters refused to leave his side. Pursued by Orion, without their father, they had no way of keeping themselves out of his reach. They begged to be allowed to console their father, to remain with him in his punishment. In this way, they would forever comfort him, and he would never see one of his own offspring taken by Orion. Awed by their devotion, Zeus agreed.
The daughters became the Pleiades, cast into the skies to shine their beacon of hope to their father for as long as he remained within their sight. This then, is where legend blends with reality, where myth diverges and takes on a life all its own. You see, few understood that Zeus had no love of Orion, but had fathered children with many of the Pleiades.
For this reason, Zeus himself refused to consign the mothers of his children to the Heavens in obscurity. He kept their secret, and to this day has never spoken a word about the charm he'd woven into the constellation itself. The Pleiades had been simply merged with the stars in the sky, they did not themselves become stars. Their bodies were pure light in the heavens above, but should they choose to fall, they could be reborn anew.
Long ago, the eldest, Merope, disappeared as the battle of Troy raged on. No one knew that she herself stayed in the heavens, they assumed her star had simply burnt out in anger over what was happening below. The truth? She'd taken the youngest daughter's place as she fell, determined to find something to live for, a home of her very own. This then, is the story of the lost Pleiad, youngest daughter of Atlas and Pleione.
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