Revenge Mythology Short Stories & Novels

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.”

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.

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 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.

When my foster parents tried to sell me off to an ugly old nobleman, I finally snapped. I decided to climb Mount Olympus and confront the god I had prayed to all my life: Zeus. I wanted to know why he didn't care about his believers at all. After surviving a hellish climb, I finally laid eyes on him. He was tall, devastatingly handsome, and sat there looking entirely aloof and untouchable. But I didn't care about his divine majesty. I rushed forward, threw my arms around his leg, and started sobbing. Zeus fell silent for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh. "You came all this way... for this?" I glared up at him, fully justified. "Aren't you the most powerful god? Obviously, it's your job to take care of everyone!" Zeus was actually speechless. Eventually, he agreed to send down divine punishment, turning my greedy foster parents into literal fat pigs. But I still wasn't satisfied. "So, next time I get bullied, can I come find you again?" Zeus rubbed his temples in exasperation and handed me a necklace. "Say my name three times in your heart, and I will appear."