In the beginning of beginnings there were Uranus (Heaven) and Gaia (Earth) who created the world and had twelve children. Apparently, Uranus was a terrible father and Gaia, neither slow nor lazy, conspired to get rid of her husband with the help of her sons led by the youngest, Cronus. And so, Cronus became king of the gods.
Cronus married the Titaness Rhea, who also happened to be his sister (mythological stuff) and they had a total of six offspring. Cronus, however, had a nasty habit of eating his new-born children, so as to prevent them from one day dethroning him as he had dethroned his own father. Following the birth of her last child, Rhea tricked Cronus by wrapping a stone in swaddling clothes, which he swallowed without so much as batting an eyelid. Rhea raised her sixth son in secret until he grew into a strong and courageous young man. This young man was Zeus, familiar to us, and this is where it gets complicated.
When the time came for revenge, Zeus served his father a poisoned drink, but instead of dying, Cronus vomited up his five brothers (aren’t you all dead?). Then all hell broke loose and war began between the gods, young pitted against old, the so-called Titanomachy, Battle of the Titans or Titanic War. The young gods and other creatures dug themselves in on Mount Olympus, but the war took place on Mount Otris. The older Titans (Cronus and his brothers) were defeated and subsequently punished: some condemned to live in Tartarus (the underworld) while others suffered different fates, like Atlas, head of Cronus’ army, who was forced to carry the sky on his back. The victors, presided over by the almighty Zeus, ushered in the the dynasty of the Olympians.
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