Entdecke bezaubernde Mythology-Kurzgeschichten.

In our tenth year together, the King of the Gods, Aetheon, threw the grandest wedding I had ever seen on the peak of Mount Olympus. And at the ceremony itself, he calmly told me he had cheated on me. "Go on with the rite, or stop it right now. It's your call." He swirled the wine in his cup, bored. He told me that just before the ceremony began, he had sex with a mortal girl. The world went cold around me. I stared up at the king standing high above me. "Do you love her that much?" His brow creased slightly, as if he thought I was making too much of it. "Not really. She's a fragile little mortal, nothing more." "You've just been so proper, so well-behaved these past ten years. Never a flaw I could find. It was interesting, for once, to be adored by someone who didn't know any better." He turned the thunder ring on his finger as if none of it mattered. "Don't worry. If you choose to go through with the ceremony, you'll still be my queen—no question. And if you want to throw a fit about it, fine. Throw your fit. I won't stop you." I stood frozen on the altar platform. I had waited ten years for this day. And now the perfect ceremony in front of me pressed down on my chest until I couldn't breathe.

I was Apollo’s most devoted follower, the lover he handpicked from a sea of worshippers. With me, he’d always shed his divine arrogance. He was so tender, so attentive. I actually thought he loved me to the bone. Until seven days before our Consort Ceremony, when I used my gift of prophecy to peek into our future together. I expected to see a lifetime of blinding love. Instead, I saw him violently tangled in the sheets with my adopted sister, Cassandra. Wrapped around him, Cassandra giggled. "You're so good to me, my Lord. Thanks to you, I'll finally get my sister's Sight and take her place as High Priestess." And Apollo—my god, my lover—smiled down at her with pure adoration. "Whatever makes you happy, little bird. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have played pretend for this long, let alone allow her to become a god's consort." In that split second, my heart turned to ash. My faith shattered into a million pieces. With seven days left until the ceremony, I didn't confront them. Instead, I fell to my knees before the altar of Hades, Lord of the Underworld. "I offer you my gift of prophecy. I will be your most loyal follower in exchange for your sanctuary." "Please. Take me away from here. Take me somewhere Apollo can never find me."

My brother and I have a hunting accident. Artemis's curse strikes me.It incinerates my heart from the inside—I need an healing ritual. But my mother, the high priestess of Artemis's temple, summons every available healer… to my brother's chamber. He only has a few scratches, yet she orders a full ritual examination for him while I lie there hollow on the sacrificial stone. I beg her to help me, but she snaps, visibly annoyed, "Can't you stop vying for my attention for once? Your brother almost damaged a sacred bone!" In the end, I die on the altar. But after the news of my death spreads, my mother, who has always despised me, completely loses her mind.

On my twentieth birthday, I had to choose a husband before all of Olympus. Everyone thought I would choose Apollo Olympion, the radiant heir of the sun god and the man I had loved for years. In my last life, I did. Because of me, he gained Zeus’s favor, sacred estates, and the right to rise above every divine heir. But after our marriage, he gave his sunlight to Celeste, the dying flower nymph my mother had taken in. When Demeter drove her away, Apollo blamed me. From then on, he hated me. He humiliated me, broke me, and finally let my sacred medicine become slow poison. I died carrying his child, on the night the spring inside me withered. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on my twentieth birthday. This time, I let them have each other. So before Zeus and every god in the Golden Hall, I chose Cassian Hadeion, the last blood of Hades. The cursed underworld prince everyone mocked. Apollo sneered. “Choosing him just to make me jealous?” I ignored him. Because in my last life, after I died, Cassian was the only one who avenged me. Then Apollo stepped closer and whispered, “Funny. That wasn’t who you chose last time.”

My husband Hades gave another woman my birthday celebration. Then he gave her my mother’s brooch. Then he let our son call her home. Nympha was the flower spirit who had grown up beside him. The healers said a curse was killing her, and she had only six months left before she disappeared forever. Hades said he only wanted her final days to be free of regret. So I was expected to be generous. Even when our five-year-old son, Eren, curled up beside her at the hearth and whispered that she felt more like home than I did, I still told myself he was only a child. Then one night, I heard him say to Hades, “Nympha is so gentle. So beautiful. I wish Mother could be more like her.” Hades only smiled. “Your mother is strict because she wants what is best for you,” he said. “But if you like Nympha so much, I can let her stand beside you at the family altar. She can bless you like a second mother.” That was when I finally understood. My husband had already given her my place. And my son had accepted her there. So the next morning, I placed a marriage dissolution agreement before Hades. He signed it without reading, because Nympha had collapsed again and he was desperate to reach her.By the time he realized what he had signed, I was already gone. If they wanted Nympha to be the lady of the Underworld, I would grant them their wish. But why, after I left, did Hades tear the Underworld apart looking for me? Why did my son cry himself sick, begging for the mother he once pushed away? And why did the dying woman they protected so carefully suddenly stop looking so fragile?

My wife, Cassia, was a wood nymph. A cursed one. Forbidden to love mortals. But she fell for me anyway. Every time her heart fluttered for me, the gods struck her down with agony. She willingly endured that torture ninety-nine times just for a chance to be with me. Then, demons dragged me to Tartarus. Hellfire and whips became my sun and moon. Right as I was about to break, I remembered a prayer Cassia taught me—a desperate whisper to the gods. It finally worked. But instead of help, I heard Cassia talking to her patron goddess, Hecate. "Cassia, how could you bargain with the Furies? You let them drag Aiden to Tartarus!" Cassia's voice choked with desperate tears. "Adonis was supposed to suffer this fate. But he's a fragile mortal. This would destroy his soul! I had no choice if I wanted to save him." "Aiden is a child of prophecy. His soul is strong. The Fates watch over him. He'll survive." "Once I save Adonis, I can stay in the mortal realm forever. Then, I'll use my eternal life and all my love to repay the hell he's enduring for me." My heart shattered. As the monsters closed in on me, I stopped fighting. I gave up.

On Mount Olympus, one law is ironclad: a god must never fall in love with a mortal. But Aresios, the God of War and heir to the King of the Gods, bound his very soul to mine. For me, he endured ninety-nine bolts of divine lightning and knelt before the Olympian altar for three days and three nights. Ichor soaked his armor, yet he smiled and kissed my lips. "Elara, don't be afraid. I want only you." The gods finally relented, on one condition: he had to leave behind a pure-blooded divine heir. After that, the words I heard most from Aresios were, "Just wait a little longer." The first time, it was to wait while he bedded another goddess. He and Cassia, the Goddess of Fate, lay together for thirty nights, until his golden ichor quickened in her womb. The second time, he told me to wait. Their first child was a girl, unable to inherit his divine mantle. The gods demanded a son. So he lay with Cassia for another ninety-nine nights, until she once again conceived a divine child. Just when I thought the ordeal was over, their newborn daughter was struck by Hydra's venom. The entire divine realm was convinced I had done it. As I was thrown into a cold bronze cage by the river Cocytus, Aresios stood outside the door, his eyes crimson. "You know what Hydra's venom does to an infant god. Why would you harm our daughter?" That one word. Our daughter. I was too numb to feel the pain. When the bronze cage door opened again, I unclenched my blood-drenched fists. This time, I would not wait.

For three months, the same steamy dream has haunted my nights. There's always a tall, faceless man. Every time, he kisses every inch of me. Heat pools in my belly, making me tremble until I shatter. I always wake up gasping, heart pounding. Staring at the damp sheets, I'd pathetically tell myself I was just touch-starved. Craving release. But last night, he spoke. His voice was deep, thick with desire. "I wish I could hold you for real. Be inside you. My little star. Let's meet. In the Eternal City. Please?" I froze. He's in the Eternal City? He's real?! I wanted to ask how to find him, but the dream shifted. Suddenly, I was seeing through his eyes. I saw him leaning against a lavish bed, his right hand sliding down to grip his hard length. My pulse raced. Then, I saw it. Carved into the bedpost was a pomegranate crest. My heart stopped. The Night House. The absolute rulers of the Eternal City. Descendants of the Underworld God. Mortals didn't cross them. And me? I was just a newly appointed court astrologer working for them. I couldn't afford to offend a single one of them.

I had seven days left to live. My father was the God of War. My mother was the Goddess of the Harvest. I was born with divine power running through my veins, and like all gods, I should have lived forever. But I'd been poisoned by Godsbane, a plant so deadly that even the Healer had no cure. I forced myself back to the temple through the pain, one step at a time. That was when my husband Caelum, the King of the Gods, came home. His expression was grave. "Lyra," he said, "your sister Selene has collapsed. Her divine blood is completely spent. The Healer says she won't survive the month. The only way to save her is for someone who shares her bloodline to give her half their divine blood." "You're twins. Your blood is perfectly matched." He paused. "Would you reconsider donating half of yours?" "I know it's a lot to ask." He hesitated, then reached into his robe and placed a divine decree on the table before me. It called for the revocation of my title as Queen. "But if you won't save Selene, I'll have to honor her last wish. She says she wants to marry me before she dies." I looked at the decree for a long moment. "Don't worry," he said, his voice softening as he took my hand. "Once this is over, I'll burn it myself and marry you again as my Queen. Lyra, you know you're the only one for me." I looked at him trying so carefully not to push too hard, and something hollow settled in my chest. He wasn't the only one. Even my parents, when I'd refused before, had turned cold and driven me from our home: "If you'd rather watch your sister die than help her, then get out. Don't ever come back." If that was what they all wanted, fine. I had seven days left anyway. "All right," I said. "I'll give her the blood." My father and mother were pleased. They said I'd finally come to my senses. I finally became the Queen they'd always wanted me to be. A good daughter. But when I died, why did they all cry?

There were two famous good-for-nothings the gods loved to gossip about. One was me, Vera, the little princess of the Star Court, with most of my twin starblood ruined, good for nothing but eating, drinking, and playing. The other was my twin brother Orson. His life-fire was broken, and he was unable to stand being anywhere with too many people. But our eldest brother, Theron, was the next King of the Gods. Our second brother, Drake, was the Dragon Sovereign, who held every gold vein of the dragon clan in his hand. Our elder sister, Sylvia, was the heir to the Sacred Spring, the one art that could rekindle a dying life-fire. Our mother was the last High Priestess of the Court of Chaos, born able to carry different bloodlines of the gods. The day the star sea collapsed, Orson and I gave up most of our twin starblood to mend our siblings' fates. They lived. They became the three strongest elders the gods had ever known. And Orson and I became two cripples. Our days were simple: mooch meals off our eldest brother, spend our second brother's gold, and wait for our sister to feed us. That was until my sweet tooth carried me to a banquet thrown for Circe, the woman everyone said would become our eldest brother's bride. At that banquet, Circe, the daughter of House Siren, held up one blurry memory echo and insisted it was me who had climbed into Lord Theron's carriage the night before, stealing her betrothal to the Divine Court. I explained patiently, "You've got the wrong person. That was my brother. And this is my brother too." Circe exploded on the spot. She used her power to cripple me all over again, and nearly killed Orson. "One shameless slut, one useless idiot. A match made in heaven." It wasn't until my brother and I lay barely breathing that my three siblings tore House Siren's wards to shreds, and the whole realm of the gods shook.

I’m just a mortal, yet I’ve been deeply in love with Orion, the heir to Poseidon, for seven long years. When he was about to ascend the throne as the God of the Sea, I thought I could finally stand by his side—in the light, as his true consort. But then he delivered a crushing ultimatum: the condition for his ascension was to produce a pure-blooded divine heir with his late brother’s widow, Selene. Every time he came back from Selene's bed, he’d hold me tight and whisper, "Thalia, you’re my only true love. As soon as Selene gives birth to an heir for the throne, we’ll have our wedding. I’ll give you the title you deserve." And so, over the next six months, he spent a hundred nights in Selene’s bed. His visits grew more frequent, and the stench of Selene’s scent on his skin grew stronger. Finally, on the 100th lonely night I spent waiting for him, Selene got pregnant. The news spread across Atlantis like wildfire—along with the announcement of their upcoming royal wedding. My son tugged at my sleeve, asking innocently, "Mommy, I thought people said Father is marrying his beloved Queen? Why hasn't he come to pick us up yet?" "Because his beloved Queen isn't Mommy, sweetheart." I smiled, gently stroking his hair. "But it’s okay. I’m taking you back to our real home." What Orion didn't know was that my biological father had already found me. He is Zeus, the King of the Gods. And I am his long-lost daughter who was left in the mortal realm. As for Orion’s title of Queen? I couldn't care less anymore.

After the War of the Gods, Olympus forged a new pact with the last of the Titans. From then on, the mortal realm was ruled by demigods. Those who carried the blood of the gods within them. Once a century, Olympus held the Sacred Marriage. The twelve ruling gods would choose mortal noblewomen as brides. Their goal: to sire heirs with divine cores. The rule was simple: whoever birthed a demigod first would see her husband crowned the next High Councilor of the Gods. In my past life, I married Deimos, the son of Ares, a man renowned for his fierce devotion. Soon after, I gave him a son—a demigod brimming with raw power. A prophecy declared our boy would one day rule Olympus, and Deimos rode that promise to absolute power. Meanwhile, my sister Evadne, blinded by the beauty of the Sun clan, insisted on marrying Lucian, Apollo's playboy heir. But Lucian's philandering left her with more than a broken heart. He gave her a divine blight, a curse that left her barren. She blamed me for it. She hated me with every fiber of her being. On the very night I was crowned Queen of the Gods, she set the holy temple ablaze, burning me and my son alive. Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day of the Sacred Marriage. Evadne had already broken into the temple and climbed into Deimos's bed. I knew it right then. She had been reborn, too. But she didn't know the truth. The blood of the War God is violent. Deimos wasn't a prize to be won. He was a monster in disguise.

My father was the God-King, and he loved my mortal mother with all his heart. To help her adapt to life in the divine realm, he even infused his own blood into her, granting her eternal youth and elevating her to the rank of a goddess. Defying the unanimous opposition of all gods, he built a resplendent palace solely for her here in the divine realm, making her the happiest woman across all heavens. Yet he never loved me — his first child, born of him and my mother. As time went by, he visited my mother less and less frequently. Eventually, I passed away. Mother begged him to seek justice for me, but he only replied indifferently, "We shall have many more children." His words crushed every last glimmer of hope in her heart. Mother grew utterly disillusioned with him, and resolved to avenge me with her own hands. The God-King’s patience toward her dwindled day by day. It was as if I had been born bearing nothing but misfortune. To avenge my wrongful death, Mother cast aside everything she once held dear. When she finally turned her back and left the divine realm forever, that aloof, domineering God-King went mad. He chased after her, begging desperately for her to return.

I am the daughter of Zeus. To experience mortal love, I sneaked down to the mortal realm. Hiding my true identity, I met Kaelen, King of Mycenae, and became his queen. Just as I was drowning in my newfound happiness, my divine handmaid, Lyra, found me. Tearfully, she claimed she feared for my safety and begged to stay by my side to serve me. In my past life, I believed her lies. I kept her around, even sharing my jewels and finest gowns with her. But behind my back, she seduced Kaelen and climbed into his bed. Worse still, Lyra stole my identity as a goddess. She convinced Kaelen that I was a curse who would bring doom to the entire kingdom. Kaelen believed her. With cold, ruthless eyes, he looked at me and said, "Valentina, I am sorry. But for the sake of the kingdom, I must do this." Lyra leaned in and whispered maliciously into my ear, "Never thought a high-and-mighty goddess like you would end up under my heel, did you?" They bound me to a wooden cross and set me ablaze. Until my very last breath, my rage burned hotter than the flames consuming my flesh. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Lyra begged me to take her in.

That night at the Holy Banquet, the Arrow of Desire struck both the divine prince Cassius, a descendant of Zeus, and his father, Theron. If they didn’t mate before the moon set, their divine power would implode, shattering their very essence. In my past life, I had secretly loved Cassius for ten whole years. So, when he grabbed me, his body burning up, I didn't say no. After one wild night, I was carrying his thunder-blooded child and successfully married into the divine palace. But after the wedding, he was ice-cold to me. He was convinced I had stolen the Arrow of Desire, all for the sake of marrying into divinity. Even after I gave him children, he never claimed me as his wife before the gods. He saved all his tenderness for his one true love—the holy maiden Lyra, who was forced to marry into the Sea Realm and eventually died in a storm. Later, I was branded as "jealous and wicked," scorned by all of divine kind. So when my children’s overwhelming lightning magic went out of control, no one came to help. My babies and I were consumed by that arcane tempest. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night he was shot. The young divine prince Cassius, burning with heat, reached out to me with desperate hunger. But high up on the throne... His father, Theron—the beautiful, ruthless God King who had ruled for centuries—was also losing the battle against his own searing desire. Everyone expected me to throw myself into Cassius’s arms. But this time, I gathered my skirts, strode past him, and sat right on the God King’s lap.

In my previous life, I married Apollo, the Sun God, as the Goddess of Wisdom. Only in death did I discover that I was nothing more than a blood supply he had been raising for my mortal stepsister. To keep his powerless stepsister alive on Mount Olympus, he pierced my chest himself, ripped out my divine essence, and forced it into her body, declaring without a shred of remorse, "You're the older sister. Taking care of her is your duty." With my divine essence stripped away, I was too weak to resist. He chained me beneath a blazing sun of his own making and left me to burn alive. Meanwhile, my stepsister walked over my bones in the wedding gown my mother had spent a hundred years weaving before she perished, and married him. The man I had loved for a thousand years saw me, from beginning to end, as nothing more than a vessel to keep someone else alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the eve of the wedding. I threw the divine marriage contract to my stepsister and let my blood drip onto an obsidian stone bound to the Abyss. A deep voice echoed through my mind. "As you wish, my bride." This time, the one I would marry was the Lord of the Underworld, the one all the gods feared. Together, we would destroy Apollo.

I was an ordinary mortal girl who lived at the foot of Mount Olympus. Caelum, King of the Gods, descended from the heavens for me once, transforming himself into a shower of gold. He took me to the peak of Olympus over every other god’s objection. He built a shrine on the mountain that belonged to me alone, every god on Olympus knew the same truth: I was the only mortal love of Caelum’s endless life. Then I gave birth to our daughter, Nia. The Fates declared her a cursed child whose existence would bring disaster to the gods, and Nia and I were sent back down to the small cottage at the foot of the mountain. Seraphina, Goddess of Flame, said she could help cleanse Nia of the curse, and with Caelum’s quiet consent she came every month and burned my daughter with divine fire. Nia screamed under that fire, sobbing for me . I ran into the temple to beg Caelum to stop it, and I found him in bed with Seraphina. The pure, holy Goddess of Flame was moaning beneath him. They threw me into the depths of Tartarus, where Seraphina handed me over to the Erinyes to be torn apart day after day. When Nia turned five, they finally let me out, but by then my Nia had been burned to ash. The day I was gathering her ashes, the message stone in my room suddenly lit up, and a projection flickered out of it: Caelum, as he had been five years ago. His eyes were full of joy and anticipation, and his voice was so gentle it almost made me believe time had folded back on itself. “Sweetheart, is it a boy or a girl? Did our child inherit my power?” In the projection his expression shifted, and the smile froze on his face. That was when the door of my room was pushed open, and the present-day Caelum, five years older than the man in the stone, strode inside. I turned the message stone around so the Caelum from five years ago could see Nia’s urn with his own eyes. “It’s a girl,” I said. “But she didn’t live long enough to inherit your power. She was burned to ash.”

I’m a mortal priestess, but a Tartarus death curse is killing me. The only cure is a Golden Apple from Olympus, which blooms once a century to purify a soul. But my soulmate—Zale, son of Poseidon—snatched my apple away. He fed it to my sister, Melora, just to heal a minor magical burn. I abandoned my final treatments at the Temple of Apollo. Instead, I drank a vial of Lethe poison, laced with water from the Styx. It silences all pain. The price? In three days, my soul will turn to ash. No afterlife. No reincarnation. In my final three days on earth, I let everything go. I gave my Healing Temple to Melora. My parents, the high priests, smiled in relief. When Zale drew the Blade of Olympus to sever our soulmate bond, I gladly offered my heart's blood. He stroked my cheek and praised my “generosity.” As if I’d finally learned my lesson. I pushed my son, Philon, toward Melora and told him to call her “Mom.” He cheered and threw himself into her arms, crying out that her lullabies were sweeter. I gave up everything. None of them even noticed I was dying. They just looked at me proudly. "Our Kressa has finally learned her place." But I can't help wondering... when I fade into stardust forever, will they even remember me?

Seven years after my cursed exile, Ethan—the man who swore an oath to me on the River Styx—returned to his estate at the foot of Mount Olympus. And he brought his new girl. The Fates had finally given their verdict: the "Wither" curse on me was incurable. I had no choice but to return to the mortal realm and wait for my soul to fade. I only had three days left to live. When he saw me leaning weakly against the porch pillar, supported by my mother, his lips curled into a cold, ruthless smirk—a smirk that truly belonged to the Lord of the Underworld. "Well, Elara," his voice was low. "It seems living in the sunlight hasn't exactly made you glow." I calmly pulled my cashmere shawl tighter. I needed to hide the black, branch-like veins spreading across my arms from the curse. "It's nothing. Just caught a chill. My body isn't really listening to me." He let out a scornful scoff and wrapped his arm around his companion's waist. "In that case, why don't you be the witness for my mating ceremony with Sierra? Come and see what a real divine couple looks like." I kept my smile and shook my head. "No, thanks. I'm going somewhere far away soon. For an eternal date." With that, I gently patted my mother's arm, signaling her to help me leave.