The End of Uranus - A Retelling of the Greek Myth

When the time came, Cronus and Atlas led the rush against Uranus at the head of their fellow Titans against their almighty father. The pounding of their righteous hearts matched the tread of their feet as they sprinted along the paths of the world, stopping beneath Uranus’ craggy heights upon the Plain of Heroes.

Awakened from a troubled sleep by the incoming Titans’ thundering, Uranus rushed to the cliffs, and there beheld a sight never again seen by God or man. Cronus: flanked by Helios and Atlas, at the head of his Titan army. Bathed in his brother’s golden light, it seemed almost as if Cronus was immersed in a great inferno of fiery wrath against his father: his enemy.

Powerful Atlas: towering head, shoulders, and mighty elbows above his fellows, gazed upon the far figure atop the mountain from beneath craggy brows drawn together against the morning light. Such was his height and breadth that the light of Helios struck only one side of his massive body, and left the other in darkness: a darkness Uranus would soon know.

Pointing one finger at Uranus, Atlas proclaimed for the entire world to hear, “Behold our Father, the Almighty Uranus, Lord of all the heavens, King of Earth, and Emperor of the universe. Tremble, for before you now stand not only your sons and daughters, but those same sons and daughters united! No more will we tolerate your ways, and no more shall our mother suffer you.”

There was no final, frantic charge against Uranus. He had nowhere to go. Instead, the Titans marched in ranks, led by Cronus, Atlas, and Helios. No warcries sounded, and no sound was made. No sound, save the voices of each and every Titan raised in a great song of death. No mortal ears could comprehend of such beauty and majesty; such was the dirge of the Titans all those millennia ago on the Plain of Heroes. A dirge for Uranus, their father, who was fated to die that day.

The sun of Helios was at its zenith when the Titan host crested the final rise, and faced Uranus, cloaked in stars and hooded in night. Cronus and Atlas approached, Helios lighting the way, whilst their brothers and sisters fanned out in a great circle around the three and Uranus. The formation in place, Uranus wasted no time creating a circle of his own before the Titans: a circle of nothing. Not even crafty Promethius, or Hecate: Queen of Darkness; could survive such a circle. The final battle was to be fought by Uranus and his most powerful of sons.

A leap, followed by a thunderous crash signaled the beginning of the conflict, as Atlas sprang to his father’s side. Darkness cloaked one, and twisting shadows revealed the bunched shoulders and bulging arms: corded sinew and heaving chest of the other. Matched in both height and size, Uranus and Atlas stood locked in battle: neither giving nor gaining ground. His great hands about each of Uranus’ wrists, Atlas fought to still his father’s movements. Uranus, for his part, was similarly engaged in attempting to escape the clutches of this, his strongest son. Unleashing power unlike anything seen before or since, Uranus caused a blast of air, solid as rock, to radiate outwards from himself in every direction. Such was the concussion of this blast that Atlas, mighty though he was, was knocked from his feet, tumbling through the air: finally caught by Helios.

Shaking off the pain and clearing his thoughts as a boar when first harried by the hounds, Atlas shrugged his massive shoulders, and, crouched low, moved slowly towards Uranus again: freshly reminded of his Father’s immense power. But this time he did not do so alone. Unsheathing his gleaming scythe from the heavy belt laid about his waist, Cronus stalked Uranus beside Atlas, while Helios kept the darkness at bay.

With no apparent signal, Atlas plowed into Uranus, and this time his monumental strength and size stood him in good stead. A shoulder in Uranus’ gut and mighty fists clenched together behind his father’s back powerful Atlas lifted Uranus from his feet and landed him in a heap beneath the mighty shoulders and breast of Atlas. Perceiving his advantage, Atlas placed one massive knee on each of Uranus’ forearms, and placed his broad hands upon his father’s chest. “Be still Father. You will never rise again,” he intoned.

“Darkness flees before the light of the son.” It was Helios who spoke, and as he did he clapped his hands together before his chest, with arms straight. Without a sound, a great light burst forth from the hands of Helios, and pulsed outward, pushing Uranus’ darkness before it. Once, twice, three times the light sped outwards, before destroying the Circle of Darkness and continuing outwards. Darkness was banished: there was only one thing yet to be done. The circle of Titans stood their ground: this was not their place to interfere.

Cronus next came forward, bringing his curved scythe with him. “Father, you gave us all life, but you have brought much pain upon us all, most of all our mother and elder brothers. For that we condemn you. You shall reap what you have sown.”

Helios placed a palm on either of his father’s great temples, and spoke to Uranus of light in an ancient tongue no longer remembered by any but the gods, and as his voice resonated across the mountainside, Uranus wept, for he remembered a time when he was not only darkness, but light as well. He remembered when Earth was young, and of all the ages in which he had loved her. He recalled each and every time a child had been born, and the beauty of his children: the Titans. Uranus wept also for the Cyclopes, and those of the hundred-arms, whom he had abandoned, and cast into Tartarus; for they too were his children. And he wept for himself, for Uranus knew he would die when he had only just realized the depth of his longing to live once again. His son, Cronus, would kill him.

With one mighty swing of his scythe, Cronus unmanned Uranus, and cast his seed into the raging seas far below the cliffs. Atlas, shouldering Uranus’ weight, stood tall and still for a moment, lost in sorrow, before throwing Uranus, as an athlete heaves a stone, out, out, into the skies. Each droplet of Uranus’ lifeblood scattered to a different corner of the sky, and points of light grew from the center, surrounded by darkness. So passed Uranus, Lord of the Universe. Light found within even the blackest darkness.