Bias Mythology Short Stories & Novels

It’s been three years since my union ceremony with Cassia, the goddess of war. But she has refused to complete our final Soul-Binding before the Moirai eighteen times. Eighteen. The first time, it was for a mortal servant she’d taken in, a boy named Lycus. His fragile mortal blood needed purifying. I waited for her all day in a freezing hailstorm, right in front of Hestia’s eternal flame. The second time, she heard the mortal’s cry for help through a communication stone. She wheeled her chariot around and left me standing on the temple steps. After that, every time we were supposed to take our vows, something would happen. Some new problem with that fragile mortal. My heart turned to ash. I was done. But when I stepped onto the ferry to the Isle of Oblivion—the gods' forbidden land—she chased me. Like a madwoman. Begging me to forgive her.

My daughter, Chloe, had begged my partner, Poseidon, to take her to the mortal market. After she asked again and again, he finally agreed. But when the day came, something “came up,” and he left her in the care of his ex, Thalia. Claiming that “Poseidon’s children need to be tested,” Thalia simply abandoned Chloe in the middle of the market. I didn’t have time to argue with Poseidon. I rushed to the market and found Chloe huddled in a corner, her face streaked with tears. When Poseidon saw her, he just frowned. “My child should not be so weak.” “Thalia was right,” he said. “Chloe is too coddled. Ethan would never act like this.” Ethan is Thalia’s son. I looked at him, and a chill washed over me. He had chosen Thalia and her son. Again. He had abandoned Chloe and me. Just then, Chloe tugged gently on my sleeve. She choked back a sob. “Lord Poseidon is right, Mother. I’m okay. Let’s go home.” Poseidon and I both froze.

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.

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."

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.

Esther, my adopted sister, drugged me to steal my position as the Divine Envoy. My skin erupted in rotting blisters, forcing me to miss the trials. She took my place, exactly as she planned. But she didn't know the Envoy was fated to marry Hades, the King of the Underworld, rumored to be a cruel, hideous monster incapable of siring an heir. That very night, his messenger brought the marriage pact, demanding the Envoy as his Queen. Esther refused. To save her, my fiancé, Samuel, slept with her. Stripped of her purity, she was no longer eligible to marry the God of the Dead. Swaying her hips, Esther proudly flaunted the hickeys mottling her neck. "Your fiancé is mine now. What are you going to do, sister? You turn twenty-five in three days. Unmarried, by law, you’ll be locked away in a convent to rot as an old maid forever." Samuel tilted his head in mock pity. "Don't worry. I won't let you fall that far. You can hide out at my estate, as a maid." They were wrong. I had another choice. I could take Esther's place and marry Hades. But after the wedding, I realized the Lord of the Underworld was nothing like the cruel, hideous monster the rumors made him out to be.

The night I died, my family was busy celebrating my sister's accession to the Hall of Valhalla. We are Valkyries. My mother was a battle warrior, and when she gave birth to the twins, her excitement was above the nine clouds. The reason– my sister was born with golden wings. A very rare colour mentioned in the prophecy–Valkyrie with gold will lead the others to stop Ragnarok. My sister brought fame to our family. I thought we would be happier until I realised the harsh reality of my own parents. Because I was born with black wings, my own parents saw me as taboo and refused to introduce me to the universe as their own. And when the time came for my sister's accession, afraid that dark forces might try to hurt her, my parents made a horrific choice. They dragged me to the edge of the clan's cliffside courtyard, chained me down as bait to draw the monsters away, saying through the barred doors: "Your sister is destined for glory. You were born broken—the least you can do is buy her time to escape.” “Mom… What if they hurt me?” I choked out. “They won't!” My mother spat, her voice laced with disdain as she shot a glance over my wings, “The moment they see your wings, they will realise you aren't worth their time.” My sister, Freya, smirked at me, saying, “Goodbye, sister.” I watched her retreating figure, wondering what my parents would do after they found out they had been wrong about the prophecy since the very beginning. What will they do when they find out that Freya was never the chosen one as they assumed, that my dark wings they always disdain actually belong to Midnight Raven? Will they regret it then?

I was the one who broke Apollo's heart. He was the golden heir of the Sun, my childhood love, and I pushed him away so hard that I drove him all the way to the frozen wastes beyond the North Wind. He stayed there for eight years. Now he was back. He had a new nymph goddess by his side, and they were going to hold their sacred divine marriage right here in our polis. That same week, the temple oracle gave me my final prophecy: I had three months left to live. When my mother wheeled me outside to see him, Apollo's mouth curled into that cruel, mocking smile I remembered all too well. His dark eyes swept over me from head to toe, taking in the wheelchair, the thinness of my arms, and the ghost-like paleness of my face. "Well, well," he said, his voice low and sharp. "Eight years and you look like a shade. Can't even stand anymore?" I tugged my sleeve down, hiding the dark scars—the marks left by years of divine magic failing to save me. I kept my voice steady. "An accident at the altar. A minor divine backlash. It’s nothing." He let out a short, cold laugh. "Right. Anyway, our divine wedding is coming up. You should be Chloe's bridesmaid." I smiled back at him. I had gotten good at smiling through pain over the years. "I'm sorry, but I'm leaving soon. Somewhere far away." I gently patted my mother's hand. She didn't say a word, just gripped the handles of the chair and pushed me back toward the house. I didn't look back.

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.

I was the most beloved youngest daughter of the Sun Palace. When my father, Apollo, began arranging my wedding, my three brothers were certain the bride promised to Hephaestus, the Fire God of the Northern Realm, was Daphne, a mortal girl he had adopted from the human world. They took my wedding gown, my red-gold crown, even the Sunset Cloud Sea, and used them all for Daphne's wedding. I told them I was the bride. My eldest brother Orion scoffed, "Father spoils you enough to pluck the stars for you. Why would he ever let you marry a crippled Fire God with a shattered divine core?" My second brother Pyron looked at me with disappointment. "Daphne is about to get married. Are you really going to take her one and only wedding away from her?" My third brother Zephyros stepped in front of her. "You have everything. All she has is us. If you keep fighting for attention, we'll make sure you can't even set foot in the wedding hall." They thought I was just fighting for attention, and they believed that no matter how unfairly they treated me, I would always stay at the Sun Palace. That certainty lasted until the wedding day, when Hephaestus descended from his molten-gold chariot and reached out his hand to me before all the gods. "Helias, I've come to marry you."

My younger brother was severe panic fits. The healers said any sudden shock could kill him. So, my entire life was set to mute. I never dared to laugh. I never dared to cry. I wasn’t even allowed to bleed out loud. My parents would hug me and say, "You're our strong one. Your brother needs us. Be patient with him, alright?" Then came that day. I accidentally knocked over a sacred ritual tripod. The loud crash sent my brother straight into panic. For the first time, my father pushed me away with a blast of divine force. "Can’t you be careful?" he roared. "Are you trying to kill him?" I slammed violently against the stone pillars of the temple. The sheer impact ruptured my heart. But they all rushed to my screaming brother. Nobody looked at me. Agony tore through my chest as I lay on the cold floor, my vision fading to dark. They thought my brother came first. They thought my little blow could wait. They didn’t know that a ruptured heart don't wait for anyone. Not even the gods.

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?

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?

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.