Zeythara took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Her sun-kissed hair darkened into the black of night; waves cascading from her shoulders moved in perfect harmony with her black dress. Every fold of the fabric shivered softly, rippling in the wind. Yet to Kaelric, she showed only a powerless, vulnerable Elenor.
Blue sparks danced from her palms, declaring her presence as if to say, I am the god herself. Her movements were deliberate and measured, heavy with control.
The villagers in the square mistook the display for some sorcerer's magic. Some of the men recoiled, timidly stepping back.
"A WITCH! ELENOR IS A WITCH!" shouted one man. Each step she took stirred both fear and awe; this was not the calm, familiar Elenor they knew.
Zeus rose into the air, people watching in terror. Majestic, ancient, and shadowed with menace, he called out, his voice rumbling like thunder, "Zeythara… you deceived me, my grandchild."
Kaelric felt a pang of jealousy, anger bubbling inside him; this woman was playing him as though her power had vanished. Zeythara tilted her lips into a teasing smirk, shooting Kaelric a sly glance—she had played her role perfectly, appearing weak.
Zeus advanced, his shadows spreading across the square. "You flaunt your strength, but remember: every light casts a shadow. Your weakness draws me as much as your power."
Zeythara drew a deep breath and whispered softly, "You cannot diminish me. Try as you might; my will is stronger than yours."
In an instant, the blue sparks from her hands exploded into blinding bursts, the ground trembling beneath them. Lightning struck everywhere, the night alive with energy. Her hair billowed in the storm.
"I AM ZEYTHARA, DAUGHTER OF THOR, THE LAST GOD OF THUNDER!" she shouted. "YOU MAY BE ZEUS, BUT THIS NEW GENERATION WILL SHOW YOU HOW STRONG WE HAVE BECOME! YOU WILL SEE HOW POWERFUL WOMEN ARE! BOW OR I WILL SHOW YOU NO MERCY!"
With each word, the earth shook. The sky seemed to ignite with every clash of clouds. The people fell to their knees, shielding children and women under their arms.
"I AM THE GOD OF GODS, THE MIGHTY ZEUS!" he bellowed, throwing waves of dark energy. "SHOW ME YOUR WORTH—I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN SEE A WOMAN'S LINEAGE RULE!"
Dark energy surged, shattering stones and tossing the wind into chaos. Zeythara feigned retreat, but her feet barely skimmed the ground; lightning erupted from her hands, slicing through the darkness and repelling it. Valleys quaked; the heavens split.
Zeus stepped forward, his power intensified with thunder and lightning. "You will bow!" he roared.
Zeythara raised her hands to the sky. Storms erupted from her palms, controlled by her and Kaelric. "I will not kneel, Zeus!" she declared, her voice filling the square. "Like every storm, I will obliterate you!"
Their energies collided; lightning tore through the dark waves, turning the sky into a blue-and-white tempest. Stone pillars cracked; trees shuddered at their roots. Zeythara advanced, each of Zeus's attacks shattered and driven back.
The square fell silent; stones settled, the wind stilled. Zeythara stood tall, her black hair blending into the night. Her eyes blazed, lightning from her hands consuming Zeus's dark energy.
She stepped forward. The earth beneath her melted, stones crumbled to ash. Zeus's dark power faltered, unraveling like a storm with its strings cut, chaotic and helpless.
For the first time, Zeus retreated.
"This… is impossible," he whispered, his voice no longer thunder but a cracked, ancient echo. "I drew my power from you…"
Zeythara inclined her head slightly, her eyes glowing with an even deeper blue. Lightning was no longer mere light—it was will.
"No," she said calmly. "You only thought so."
Her palms came together. The sky split open.
Lightning converged into a single point, pure white with a faint shimmer… No sound erupted this time. Silence reigned. Absolute pressure. Even divinity could not escape.
Zeus tried to cry out, but no sound came. His dark aura shattered the instant it touched the light; shadows dissolved as though they had never existed. His body cracked—first fractures, then filled with blinding radiance. The divine form had no place to anchor itself.
Zeythara lowered her hands.
The light faded.
Zeus collapsed. His knees touched the ground without shaking the earth. No thunder announced his fall. Nothing marked his departure. A god had quietly perished. His body turned to ash, scattered by the wind, leaving not even a name behind.
The square held its breath.
Zeythara stood unmoved. Her black hair had settled; her dress now rippled with its own weight, no longer stirred by the wind. A faint glow lingered in her palms—still alive, still under her control.
Kaelric stared, astonishment finally giving way to realization. One thought consumed him: her power had never left. Not for a moment.
Zeythara scanned the square. No one knelt—they were frozen in awe and fear. Even they had learned that gods could die.
"It's over," Zeythara said, her voice calm yet heard by all.