FicWad

My name is Katalyst,
A/N: Kitters is extremely busy with school, but thus decided to update in order to remain sane. =3 Now, the entire story is going to come out next chapter, which I am determined to add tomorrow or the day after, but whose ideology needed to be explained before I gave it to y'all.

This next chapter may be confusing. Katalyst was completely made up by me, and the story as well. It may contradict something in other works of Greek research. I would not know; I simply sat down and wrote this quickly so that my fanfic wouldn't die. xD But I rather like this little story, and what it will soon lead into... So stay sharp, darlings. Make careful note of everything on this short chapter. It probably will be useful for the future.

Disclaimer: I don't own Class of the Titans. Go away. Some other person owns the little copyright character next to its name.

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My name is Katalyst,
My creation is irrelevant.
My story is simple.
/My purposes are few./
However, all of these are crucial to understanding, and in following this tale it is only natural to want to understand.

Long ago, during the time of the Golden Age, when Kronus reigned supreme over all man, a Prophecy held over my lord, great and heavy. The words of his overthrown father mocked him incessantly, knowing that there was no way to prevent such predictions. One day, and this day could take eternity to come, a son of Kronus would vanquish his father and take the thrown of power that he had so worked for. He knew that he would, in the turning of the earth, be defeated by his progeny, and for this he prepared in secret, not daring to consult even in his own honored wife. It was under the direction of Chronus, manifestation of time, that he acted, for Time knew all things, and the order in which they would occur.

It was to the brother's children, Prometheus, Epimetheus, and Atlas, he so visited. In all things they stayed a steady hand, and remained impassive in the quarrels of the Titans. Between themselves they fashioned mankind, and cared for them as dearly as they would their own, glorious young. It was long before any God could give man the gift of Prophecy, and centuries before The Oracle would cry his own knowledge of seven mortal heroes, and so it was for Uranus's prediction that Kronus prepared for, and it was a heavy instruction that he laid upon the Titans three. Epimetheus fashioned the tool that Kronus had so requested, and Prometheus guarded and counseled his brother with fair care, so that forethought and afterthought strained as one upon the safeguard of their King. Atlas, who was by far the most loyal to his blood bonds, watched over them carefully as they committed to their craftsmanship. Menoetius knew that his brothers were working along some project but was not told of its nature, and thus put it out of its mind, agreeing in his great mind that this was the better way,

When hind-sight and fore-sight had finished their labor, they presented to Kronus the son of Gaia the ornament that they had toiled upon, sealed in an elaborate and ornate box made of wood which had been grown into its form. Gratefully, Kronus received the box and threw a fine silk on it, discreetly resting his feet upon the chest so that his handsome robes would fall over it and hide the thing from the other Titans. So speaking he summoned his brothers and sisters, as though to conference with them, but did not address the group entirely.

Calling forth Atlas and Menoetius, he gave them a vial of fire-seeds, which he asked them to plant away in a secret place where no other God might find it. Prometheus caught a glimpse of the seeds and Kronus, noting his gaze, said nothing, but trusted that Prometheus and his brother would find a good use for the fire seeds' fruits. So, in this thinking, he ordered Menoetius to wait for Gaia to bless the seeds and make them sprout, so that when the tree was good and tall he might snap off a branch and return it among the Gods. Atlas, however, would leave his brother, and return among the other Titans to wait for him.

The Titaness Rhea, Kronus's great Queen, was greatly unsettled by the orders of her husband, but left with her sisters whence she was dismissed. Soon, she would bear her husband his first child, and she wondered greatly if these seeds which were so secret to them all were some sort of preparation for the son or daughter she was to conceive. Prometheus, troubled now by his gift of foresight, attempted to put aside his recollections of the seeds, and of the precious ornament he and his inseparable brother had crafted together.

Now alone, Kronus, son of Gaia, pulled back his robes and caressed the lid of the naturally grown chest, and recognizing the power of the God of Harvest, the living box twisted itself so that it unveiled the treasure Kronus had no acquired.

Inside its confines rested a single form, human in its appearance. A lovely child of the ordered hair, a dreaded goddess who few would see, she was roused from her slumber by the breath of power shrouding the King of Gods, and Kronus was pleased with the eyes she gave him. In them were greatly foresight and very little hindsight, and they gleamed like the light of Hyperion, full of knowledge, yet passive in the grace of one who is not made to be bold. She moved to bow to Kronus, and the King was satisfied with the ornament and called thus for Time.

Examining the child, Chronus listened out of mannerism to the King, and went about his own work. He would give his knowledge of history to the small goddess, and granted her a slow growth so that she might survive until the end of Time. Then Chronus gave the King, Kronus, the power of manipulation, so that he might go anywhere where Time held order, or could make the cycle of mortals stand still, and the two great powers were one. The King spent little time with the child, speaking carefully to the innocent thing, before he closed the lid upon her again, and wrapped her chest of wood in fine silk.

The king then sent order for Prometheus and Epimetheus to construct an immortal basin of their finest craft, to place within the branch of the Fire-Tree when Menoetius had returned with it. It would serve the Gods as a great tool, and later the humans as their greatest one. But for now the basin and its fires would only serve as a distraction, so the other Titans, in their suspicion and curiosity, might be satisfied with the fire they had, and never go looking for the tree from which it had come.

When Atlas returned without his brother, the King ordered the Titan to guide him back to the fire tree. On their way they met Menoetius, who had gathered the branch from the fire tree Gaia had allowed to sprout. The two parties said nothing to each other, however, and Menoetius, as was his way, said nothing to them and returned among the Titans. When they reached the young fire tree, which had grown quickly by the will of Gaia and Kronus, the King suspended from its strong, immortal branches the chest made by Prometheus and Epimetheus, and left it until, centuries later, he would come to confer with the soul it contained.

Before he left, Cronus gave the little goddess a name. In good time, she would assist him in reclaiming his reign; thus she called him Katalyst, and Katalyst would be her name - and Katalyst is my name, so now you know the truth of it. Now that you know my story, the story no Olympian has yet to find out. So, good mortal, to me you have come. It is time for the truth of the matter to come out.

Since Zeus overthrew his frantic father, my one Lord and King, he has brought nothing but evil upon the earth, such a creature that he is. I helped my King Cronus happily in giving him the knowledge he needed to overthrow the seven Heroes which defied him so. But they are not dead. Jay, //Atlanta//, Herry, Odie, Archie, Neil and Theresa - I swear that they still live. Overthrown, as their Olympian patrons shall soon be, but not dead. I curse myself at my fatal error, not recognizing, by the foresight Prometheus shared with me, the few variables which ruined everything. My King will be victorious through this, however. It would've been better for the heroes to be trapped in Hades while King Cronus rescued mankind for the terrible age Zeus has bestowed upon him. Now... The other Titans will join him, and the walls of Tartarus will split wide open again.

I, Katalyst, have no regrets. Let it be known what I, and my beloved King Kronus, have gone about, and I will sleep peaceably knowing some mortal recognizes what I have done. Look - Dawn of the rosy fingers had come from the horizon. So as Helios Hyperion makes his rounds on his flaming chariot of horses, I will so tell you about my deeds, and laugh... and, let it also be noted, that I will laugh quite hard, delighted with my own 'wrong-doing'.

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So, now that you've read, do review, please. ^-^ I think, perhaps, I haven't been keeping in check with this fanfiction because it doesn't seem to be getting too much attention; but I would suppose that, with school beginning to ease up again, I can start updating fluently. But keep in mind: reviewing makes Kitters happy, and it makes her update/ faster/. xD