The Phoinix: Age of Demigods

The Phoinix

Age of Demigods

By

S. L. Mancuso

Dedication

To my angel, you tethered me yet
allowed me to soar.

When you smiled, the world stopped to
bask in your warmth. You were my guide that taught me
grace.

It may have been a brutal war, but we
were the epic story in the eye of the storm.

“
Out of the night that
covers me,

Black as the pit from pole
to pole,

I thank whatever gods may
be

      
For my unconquerable soul.”

-William Ernest Henley,
“Invictus,” 1-4.

Edited by

Zachary J.
Hisert

Contents

1 The Vessel

2 Love and War

3 Truth and Deceit

4 The Queen’s Prophecy

5 The Nightmare

6 End of an Era

7 Five Souls of One

8 Prolonging the Foretold

9 Fairies of the Alder

10 Memories of Old

11 The Dangers of Family

12 The Border

13 The Lost Brothers

14 End of the Sword

15 Twins of War

16 The Blood of Fate

17 Farewells

18 Alina’s Story

19 Lies and Prophesies

20 The Awakening

21 Face to Face

22 Her Father’s Daughter

23 A F
amily Connection

24 The Return Policy

25 The Betrothed

26 The Daughter of Death

27 Sacred Blood

28 Rebirth of the Queen

29 Annwyn

30 Preparations

31 A Divine Warning

32 A Brother’s Decision

33 Pride and Sacrifice

34 Acceptance

35 Binding of the Gods

36 Meeting of Two Halves

37 One Advantage

38 Fire in the Sky

39 The Heartaches of Love

40 New Beginnings

Guide to
Pronunciation

Acknowledgments

Marian & Tim McGowan for naming the fire
in my story.

My old and new family who support my dreams
and many delusions. My friends who showed up and carried me when I
could no longer crawl.

Our journey has been captivating and
treacherous. You all recognized a life worth living when I did not.
The best part, it is not over yet...

Chapter 1

The Vessel

I
n the year 1184 B.C., the world was steeped in an era of war
that promised to destroy humanity. The gods, concerned for the
survival of their civilizations, sought to protect humans from
their own destruction. In an attempt to restore order, the six
pantheons ruling over Europe banded together to create a mighty
force. They called it The Power.

The only limitation on The Power was
its own imagination.

Five gods represented each pantheon,
chosen to help govern The Power. Thirty gods in total assembled to
create the War Council. The council convened on Mount Olympus
guarding The Power until they unleashed it into the
world.

The Power was a collection of godly
attributes that each pantheon offered. Its raw form resembled a
ball of bright white light. However, this new protector of humanity
could not solely be a ball of light; it needed a definitive form, a
form people can turn to in their time of need.

The War Council argued for days over
the sex of the vessel.

“
Men are the heroes of
history. It is fact,” Ares, the Greek god of war, arrogantly
addressed the group while playing with a dagger.

“They are often hot-headed and
impulsive. Men can do more harm than good, or have you not looked
upon your own wars, Ares?” the Norse goddess of the underworld,
Hel, argued.

The gods sat in a giant throne room on
Mount Olympus in Greece. White columns held up a swirling ceiling
of blue skies scattered with white clouds. Violet silk draped in
between the columns connected each giant pillar to form a ring
around the room. In between each column, three marble steps led up
to massive golden thrones belonging to the Twelve
Olympians.

Ares slammed his dagger on the large
rectangular marble table, which was long enough to seat the entire
War Council. The Power floated above the table and shimmered at
Ares’ aggression.

Leaning in, Ares spoke low and
drawn-out as flames danced in his pupils. “War is cruel and
deceptive, Hel. That is the harsh truth.”

Hel stroked a sleeping, emerald-green
baby dragon in her lap without looking at Ares. Her long black hair
hung in front of her face, shielding her purple eyes from the Greek
war god. “War can be just; look at Freyja’s Valkyries.”

“Yes. Look at the women
riding around on horses choosing
men
as heroes ordered by Odin. You
have proven my point. Men are heroes and women cannot make sound
decisions in battle without approval from a man,” Ares replied
smugly as he grabbed a golden apple from the center of the table.
Just as he brought the apple to his lips, a spear pierced the
middle of the fruit.

“Ahhh!” Ares roared as he tumbled to
the floor in shock.

In the background the Greek goddess of
wisdom laughed.

“Athena!” Ares shouted, stumbling to
his feet and adjusting his black and red armor.

“Yes, dear brother?” asked Athena with
a hint of self-satisfaction. She snapped her fingers and the spear
rose from the ground, gliding back to her hand with the apple still
attached to its head.

“You call us men impulsive and
irrational? Look at this, throwing your own brother on the floor
for speaking the truth!” Ares clamored, picking up his
chair.

“I did not throw you, dear brother.
You fell. I merely tossed a spear in your direction. Some god of
war you are, afraid of a little spear,” Athena jested, continuing
her laughter.

Ares clenched his fists ready to
explode. Before he could, thunder echoed through the giant hall and
lightning singed the table in front of him. He looked up and found
a red haired, red-bearded man lowering a hammer across from
him.

“Thank you, Thor,” said Danu, the
Celtic fertility goddess. She grasped her enormous, pregnant belly
as she stood further down the table. “Ares, you and death go hand
in hand. My apologies, Hades,” she added, quickly acknowledging
Hades’ look of disdain, “but are we not trying to avoid war and
death? Is that not why we created this?” Danu pointed to The Power
hovering above their heads. “As much as you hate to admit, the
protector of the human world must be gentle.”

At the end of the table, Minerva, the
Roman goddess of wisdom, nodded her head in agreement as she
recorded the meeting on her scroll. Without looking up she added,
“Out of all the abilities and knowledge the creature will have,
kindness is not a power that can be given.”

“Kindness is weakness. This is a time
of war, which is why we formed this collection,” added the Celtic
war god, Camulus. “I have seen many battles. I have seen ‘kindness’
play out first hand. It does not bode well for the deliverer of
compassion.”

Hades, dressed in black Greek armor
with his long brown hair tied back, stood on the marble steps to
address the table.

His voice was calm, yet authoritative.
“From what I have witnessed, men have the capacity for mercy, but
often push it aside for personal agendas. History has portrayed
women as merciful to end strife, which is exactly our
goal.”

Arawn, the Celtic god of the
underworld, stood with Hades on the steps. Draped in a black cloak
that hid his features he said, “We see all who pass our gates.
Right now death is sweeping the Earth, collecting more lives for
the fields of the dead. Soon, there will be no one left to claim,
male or female.”

“Hades and Arawn are right,” said
Pluto, Roman god of the underworld, as he shimmered into appearance
next to Hades, wearing black Roman armor. “My fields are full of
men who have been slain. If men are ending life, then women should
create it.”

Hel and Osiris, the Norse and Egyptian
gods of the underworld, stood by their counterparts. The five
Underworld Lords towered over the other gods. With their ability to
summon the souls of lost soldiers, they pushed their shoulders back
daring the other gods to argue.

Finally, Loki, the Norse
god of trickery, tilted his chair on its back legs and placed his
arms behind his head, lounging. “
Sooo
glad we can afford to lounge
here gazing at your five wonderful faces, but can we hasten the
council? Some of us have actual jobs. We do not wander around like
you five and body count. Ha-ha! Body count? Its war! Body count!
Ha!”

A low growl behind Loki stopped his
laughter and he carefully put his chair back on all four legs. Loki
looked over his shoulder to see a snow-white dog with red ears and
red eyes baring its teeth at him.

“Good puppy. I meant no disrespect.
Call your dog off, Arawn!” Loki slowly stood with his hands out in
front of him as he backed away.

Arawn called out,
“Cnaimh,
asgall!
”

Cnaimh lunged at Loki, but the
trickster god vanished before Cnaimh could catch him. Above Zeus’
throne, Loki turned the violet silk draping into a hammock. He
laughed hysterically as the confused dog walked around the room
looking for his prey.

“Enough, Loki!” shouted a god wrapped
in a black and green toga. The god snapped his fingers and the
hammock flipped over. Loki spilt to the ground, landing face first
on the cold marble floor.

Arawn whistled and Cnaimh returned to
his side. Arawn then asked, “What say you, Mot?”

The Phoenician god of the underworld
stood and several female goddesses smirked as they admired his tall
muscular physique. He clenched his chiseled jaw in annoyance with a
cold stare commanding reverence. He stepped in front of his five
counterparts, addressing the table.

“We are six gods out of many, but we
have seen more than all of your years combined. I have listened to
intelligent debates and held my tongue during petty sibling
squabbles,” he said, glaring at Athena and Ares. “Nevertheless, I
agree with my brethren. Women bare a natural instinct to protect
and heal, which is what our world needs. With our collective vote
as lords of the underworld, we outrank any of your demands. A woman
shall be the vessel: The Queen of all that is and all that will
be.”