It didn't matter how ridiculously beautiful Aphrodite was, or how intimidating Ares posed with his full battle raiment and fresh glory of his victory over Hephaestus; when the Olympians gather up for an occasion, the first one you'd notice was their ruler, Zeus. For one, the immediate vicinity coursed with his lightning, and you know this to be true because the air pulsed with serious electrical mojo.
To make matters worse, the divinities lined up the hall like juries on an inquisition, far from Ginrius' hopes of a banquet with heavenly cuisine and music. They circled the pedestal with Zeus taking the helm, making everything glimmer and throb with power. Down the podium, the depressing father-and-sons trio stood audience, awaiting further instructions.
"Welcome, Ginrius, son of Hades!" Zeus bellowed, injecting the vacuum with thunder. The electricity around them danced, scaring the lone mortal who had the highest chance of dying from divine electrocution.
Ginrius was so taken by tension and awe that he didn't know how or when to respond, not until his brother Thanatos gave him a little nudge. "Thank you, Lord Zeus! It goes without saying that I am honored to stand before all of Olympus!" he blurted out.
Gossiping ruptured within the Olympian ranks, but a mild slam of Zeus' fist shushed them all down. "I gather you've been told of your purpose, child?"
"Yes my, Lord."
Godking and lowly mortal traded squared looks, before Zeus beamed and stood, clapping. "Then let us forego the formalities and commence the festivities!" he declared, launching the muses to sing a different, more festive tune.
The empty floor then sparkled and out sprang a feast unlike anything Ginrius had ever seen. Delectable treats spanned as far as the eyes could see, enough to last a lifetime in mortal standards. To top the act, Dionysus flicked a hand and it started raining ambrosia, which magically filled the goblets and missed everyone's branded clothing.
"Fill up and merrymake, child," Ginrius heard Hades whisper, before being handed an entire slab of Hein meat. "My brother is not very big on delegations—I will personally walk you through it after the feast."
Ginrius gave the place a clean sweep. Between a scantily clad Aphrodite, dancing and bathing in wine, and Heracles downing an entire helping of boarbeque, he decided to roll with it, as he always did.
***
After the celebrations, the rest of the pantheon retired. No further questions were asked, at least none too taxing for an intern god to handle. There was this brief stint where Artemis demanded a shooting contest, and Heracles boasting about his exploits, but everything else went smoothly.
As promised, Hades accompanied Ginrius to his accommodation. It was more of a workshop, really, as expected of the godsmith Hephaestus, though a far cry from the mortal, rough-and-tumble variety. For one, everything was gigantic, from the forge, the bellows, to the jars that held the sundry materials. It wasn't as luxurious as Ginrius imagined a godly chamber, but it was definitely a step up from what he had all his life.
Everything amazed him. Until he realized that he didn't know a single thing about being a smith, much more being one assigned to the gods. It was then that Hades walked up to a hammer, crude but functional, and instructed him to touch the haft. Ginrius did so and all of Hephaestus' memories flowed right through him, overwhelming him enough to drop the tool and sink on his knee. What was that?" he asked, feeling his head. Now everything wobbled out of place; Hades even looked like he was dressed in unicorn rainbow.
Hades raised and led him to a nearby cot. "It's Hephaestus' memories—his craft and godly essence transferring to you," the god said, patting his shoulder. "It could get overwhelming at first... Just take it in moderation and you should be fine. Once you've mastered those memories, you should be able to function in full capacity, and with it, the lore and knowledge that comes with the job description. Our role as your proctor is to ease you into it—hammer you into the god you are meant to be."
"Now you tell me?" Ginrius said begrudgingly. The raise in his tone summoned Thanatos back out of nowhere, again with the threats—again with the scythe.
Startled, Ginrius raised Hephaestus' hammer back up, causing the blunt and edged weapons to clash. They all looked terrified but nonetheless too late to stop it; as soon as the weapons touched an undeniable force gathered between them, laboring to push each other back. Before the resonance could blow everything away, Hades was quick to keep it trapped in a sphere of compressed energy, which he then pitched into the sky, resulting in a terrible explosion. Ginrius looked at the spectacle in awe and horror, knowing it could have killed him dead where he stood, had Hades reacted slower.
"Why'd you do that for?" Thanatos confronted Ginrius, more cross than ever.
"I should be asking you the same thing!" Ginrius reprised, "Just what is it with you and stalking? And please stop waiving that thing around—especially around neophyte gods like me."
"That's enough," Hades ordered them as soon as he regained composure. "This should work as a fair lesson for you, young Ginrius; of the repercussions of gods crossing arms. Rest up and let Hephaestus' essence flow through you for the night. When you wake up in the morrow, you should have a degree of control over your powers."
Hades and Thanatos then vanished like wisps before Ginrius, giving him back the silence he never thought he'd want again. He looked out at the sky and noticed how it seemed a bit deformed now. It came with the realization that he may have just walked into the kind trouble a lifetime of Zacleus could never ever account for.
These powers that shape the universe have always been the subject of his fascination, most of the time in a frustrating kind of way. But that's just it, back then he couldn't help but wonder about something that was beyond grasp and reason. Now it all just got real—maybe a bit too real for his taste.
A lot has happened over the course of a day that he felt more like a mule than a probationary god. Bypassing the galactic mess they made of the late godsmith's workshop, as well as the thought of Zeus murdering him for his damaged sky, Ginrius plunged into the solace of his new cot.
He was out like a light as soon he closed his eyes, proving that even the high and almighty required a good night's sleep.