It took only mere seconds to empty the ketea-filled beach. When Birki and the others returned to the rod, some of the heaps of sliced shark were still quivering. Mounds of ash had appeared on the sand, and bits of unrecognizable flesh were scattered all over the beach. Tyler stole a look at Ivar who was standing with opened mouth and bulging eyes. Kobu, on the other hand, had a smile on his face.
“We sensed two entities, sire. One was cloaked, hiding its identity, and is now gone. But the other is fast approaching, and has a very powerful magical aura surrounding him,” reported Hal.
“How strong?” asked Tyler.
“It exceeds the power of Zeus and Odin. But we don’t sense any hostility, only slight irritation,” X said.
Irritation?
Abruptly, a figure materialized at the water’s edge. A man of around fifty years of age, with long white hair and untrimmed beard, accented with dark blue streaks. He wore a chiton of a strange color, its shimmering hue shifting through various shades of green and blue. The stranger was unarmed and strode directly towards Tyler. The mage noticed that the man’s bare feet didn’t touch the ground nor did water wet his clothes.
“Hail, stranger, and my greetings,” Tyler addressed the strange visitor.
A deity?
“Greetings, mage, Archmage, or whatever they call you now,” came the unexpected answer. The visitor’s eyes were very dark blue, and gave a sense of endless depths when one looked at them.
“You know me?” asked the mystified mage.
“Of course, those blabbermouths of the pantheons couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Even the Nereids were talking about it, as if they had nothing else to do,” said the stranger.
“May I know your name?” asked Tyler as politely as he could manage. The stranger might act a bit strange, but power was power.
The new arrival looked at him, and shook his head disbelievingly.
“You call yourself an Archmage, and yet don’t recognize me?” the man exclaimed.
“I am sorry, but I am a stranger to this world, and so far, my journeys have been on land. I am not familiar with the sea,” explained Tyler.
The man scratched his beard thoughtfully.
“Well, at least you didn’t think I was Poseidon, though that young god usually makes a grand entrance. An ego as sensitive as the tips of his trident, though not as long. Quite short, I suspect.”
Young god? Poseidon?
Then he stared at Tyler, seemingly waiting for a reaction. Finding the mage’s face blank, he again shook his head.
“You say a joke once in a hundred years, and they don’t get it,” he murmured.
“I am Okeanos. A Greek name. I help keep the balance in the world’s seas and oceans. Somebody has to. Most of the pantheons are too busy with their scheming, plotting, and nasty little games. Nobody takes their work and duties seriously anymore,” continued the stranger, with the last part being said with disgust.
“May I ask what brings you here?”
“A sudden assembly of the ketea – which I see you have dealt with. Such an event is a rare and dangerous occurrence, considering those creatures are usually up to no good. It’s not as if I could trust others to look after such incidents.”
“Wait. What about Poseidon?”
“That youngling? He has his responsibilities. Though lately, I find myself picking up after him. He seemed to have a lot on his mind.”
Youngling? He’s the brother of Zeus!
“Oh, there also a kraken near that island,” Tyler told Okeanos.
“A rational race. You don’t disturb them, and they don’t disturb you. I do have my arrangements with them. I ignore them, and they ignore me. Works perfectly.”
“Aren’t you concerned about the belief maintaining your existence? Please don’t be insulted, but to be frank, I don’t think I’ve heard of you,” said Tyler.
Okeanos just smiled and stared at him.
“I know you’re a visitor, and a landlubber at that so I guess that remark was excusable,” sighed the deity. “I am not surprised. I am a Titan. And you appear to know more about us than the ordinary mage. But Titans are not like the deities you have so far encountered.”
“How so?” Tyler was greatly intrigued. Gradations in the levels of deities was the norm, but an entity more powerful than the heads of the pantheons was totally unexpected. Even the Titans among the Olympians – Themis, for one – were subject to the power of Zeus, himself the son of a Titan. But Okeanos was an elder Titan, a direct descendant of Ouranus, with all the might and power that lineage signified.
“Like my kin, I am born of the magic of the First World and the belief of mortals. But their notions of who and what we have also bound us closer to the fundamental magical energy of the world. That’s why we were called Titans, not Olympians. And considering my name, my existence is one which no mortal living by the sea could ever forget.”
The deity looked out to the sea, shook his sea at sight of the turbulent waves, and held out his right hand. The water immediately calmed, and Tyler was now looking at a placid and welcoming sea.
“Aren’t Titans supposed to be bound in Tartarus?” he asked.
“Only those who fought the Olympians. Such a waste, an odious cycle of war and hatred. Kronus wanted to me join the revolt against our father, Ouranus. Zeus and the other Titans who were with him wanted me to join them in the Titanomachy. My brother, Typhoeus, wanted me to join their side. I refused in all instances. Nothing good ever comes out of such familial conflicts,” Okeanos answered without looking at him. The deity was still looking over the vast seascape.
Typhoeus. Typhon. This guy is the brother of the Typhon?
Then Okeanos looked at him.
“My feet on land grow weary, and the sea calls out to me, mage. I have to take my leave. May you fare well in your travels,” said the deity.
“My thanks, Okeanos. Though I don’t know how our relationship will be in the future. My life on this
