The throne room hummed with life, the energy of a hard-won victory radiating through the marble walls. Laughter mingled with the sweet strains of satyr music, while the aroma of ambrosia and nectar filled the air. I sat on my throne, its black marble surface streaked with veins of shimmering gold, a reflection of my domain's dark beauty.
To my right sat Poseidon, his laughter booming as he joked with Brontes, the Cyclops tossing back goblets of nectar like water. Zeus, as always, had a perpetual smirk plastered on his face, lounging with an air of absolute authority—because he was the King of Olympus. I clenched my jaw, pushing back the unease that still clung to me. I could have sworn—no, I knew—they had been about to say my name when the gods declared the King. But then, something… glitched. Reality itself had flickered, and suddenly, it was Zeus's name they had spoken instead of mine. I had never spoken of it, not even to Poseidon. Who would believe me? And yet, the memory haunted me.
I sipped from my chalice of nectar, content to observe the revelry rather than immerse myself in it. Let them have their celebration. I had little need for such things, though I did not begrudge them the joy. My gaze wandered the room, catching snippets of conversations and laughter, until it landed on something—or rather, someone—in the far corner.
She stood apart, cloaked in shadow as though it were a part of her. A tattered black dress hung loosely on her slender frame, and a shawl obscured most of her face, though her piercing violet eyes were impossible to miss. A serpent coiled lazily around her shoulders, its forked tongue flickering near her ear as though whispering secrets only she could hear.
The whispers began before I could even rise.
"Why is she here?" "She doesn't belong. Who would invite her?" "Good riddance. Maybe the King will throw her out."
The murmurs grated against my ears like nails on stone. Slowly, I stood, setting my chalice aside. The room quieted as I made my way through the crowd, my presence parting them like the tide.
When I stopped in front of her, she froze, her violet eyes wide with alarm. She quickly bowed, keeping her head low as if bracing for some cruel reprimand.
"Why," I said, my voice softer than usual but firm enough to command attention, "is a beautiful woman like yourself standing alone in the corner, avoiding the festivities?"
Her hands fidgeted with her shawl as she whispered, "I… I didn't want to impose, my lord."
I chuckled, the sound rich and low. "Impose? Nonsense. You grace this hall with your presence." I reached out, gently taking her hand and pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. Her skin was cool, but not unpleasantly so. "I am Hades, Lord of the Underworld. And you are?"
"Hecate, my lord," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Hecate," I repeated, letting the name roll off my tongue. "A fitting name for someone so mysterious."
She blushed faintly and averted her gaze.
I straightened, smiling faintly. "You intrigue me, Hecate. I would very much like to speak with you further. Please visit me in my castle in the Underworld when this celebration is over." I offered her a slight wink before turning and striding back toward the center of the hall.
The whispers behind me changed, a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Let them talk. I had more pressing matters to tend to, and that was the Titan Themis.
Themis sat alone near the edge of the festivities, her gaze distant as if she were anywhere but here. Unlike the others, who revealed in the celebration, she looked thoroughly unimpressed. Her golden eyes, sharp and discerning, barely flicked to acknowledge me as I approached.
"You look as if you are judging this entire gathering," I noted, settling into the seat beside her.
She exhaled, a soft scoff escaping her lips. "Judgment implies interest. This is merely an observation."
I arched my brow. "And what do you observe?"
"That the same patterns repeat themselves, time and time again," she said, swirling the wine in her goblet. "Gods and Titans bickering over power, mortals struggling in futility, and the Fates weaving their endless thread. It all grows tiresome."
Her words surprised me. Themis, the great arbiter of divine law, the one who upheld order among the immortals, found no satisfaction in her work? "Judging Titans and gods has no merit to you anymore?"
She sighed. "They listen only when it suits them. I deliver judgment, and yet no one truly learns."
I considered her words carefully before speaking. "Perhaps you are judging the wrong subjects."
She finally turned to look at me, interest flickering in her gaze. "Oh?"
"Come to the Underworld," I offered. "Judge the dead. Their choices have weight, their fates final. It is there that your wisdom could truly make a difference."
For the first time since I approached her, Themis seemed intrigued. A slow smile played at the corners of her lips. "An interesting proposition, Hades. I will visit one of these days and see for myself if your domain offers the challenge I seek."
I inclined my head. "You will be welcome."
With that, I left her to her thoughts and returned to the heart of the gathering, finding Hera and Demeter near the central table, exchanging pleasantries with Prometheus and Metis. Hera arched a brow at me as I approached. "Something on your mind, brother?"
"Not particularly," I said, taking a sip from a goblet handed to me by a passing nymph. "Just ensuring everyone is enjoying themselves."
Hera gave a faint smile. "So far, so good. Though I'd wager Zeus will find some way to sour the mood before the night is through."
Demeter chuckled. "That would require him to stop smirking long enough to speak."
Prometheus laughed softly, shaking his head. "Zeus has his ways, but one must admit he has maintained Olympus well."
I resisted the urge to scoff. "By sheer force of will and intimidation. That is not what I call leadership."
Prometheus tilted his head. "And how would you rule, Hades? If fate had chosen differently?"
I exhaled slowly,"With foresight and patience. Not every decision must be made with lightning and thunder."
Prometheus grinned. "An admirable philosophy." He swirled the liquid in his goblet. "Though, from what I hear, you have taken an interest in something—or rather, someone—outside of your usual affairs."
I gave him a measured look. "News travels fast, I see."
Metis chuckled. "Olympus has ears in every corner. But I, for one, am intrigued. Is it true, then? You've been making contact with mortals?"
I considered my words carefully. "I have found a group… unique, in many ways. Their resilience, their ingenuity—there is something about them that I cannot ignore."
Prometheus nodded, his expression unreadable. "Mortals are fascinating creatures. I should know—I made them, after all."
I leaned in slightly, my curiosity piqued. "How did you manage such a feat? To shape them from mere earth and give them breath?"
Prometheus's eyes gleamed with something between pride and mystery. "It was not just any earth, but something I call Primordial Clay. A rare material, formed from the raw essence of the world itself. Unlike common dirt, it is imbued with potential—it can be shaped, molded, given form and even, perhaps, a spark of something more."
"Very creative," I mused. "And where does one find such a thing?"
He smirked. "That, my friend, is a secret I do not part with lightly."
I chuckled. "Of course. But tell me, Prometheus, would you ever consider visiting me in the Underworld? We could discuss this matter further in a quieter setting."
Prometheus took a thoughtful sip from his goblet, his gaze distant. "Intriguing offer, Hades. But I am not sure Zeus would appreciate me sneaking into your domain."
"Zeus need not know everything," I said smoothly. "You have my word that no harm will come to you while under my hospitality. I merely wish to learn more."
He studied me for a long moment before giving a small nod. "I will think about it."
That was more than I expected, and I inclined my head in acknowledgment. "Do let me know when you decide."
I couldn't help but smirk. But then I noticed the absence of one sister. "Where is Hestia?"
"She stepped outside for some air," Demeter said, her expression turning faintly concerned.
Before I could respond, a scream pierced the night.
The sound led me to the courtyard, where a chilling sight greeted me. Hestia was pinned to the ground beneath Priapus, his lecherous grin twisted in drunken delight. One of his hands clamped over her wrist, the other groping at the folds of her robe as she struggled beneath him.
"Get off of her," I commanded, my voice low and cold.
Priapus turned, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused. He had the audacity to smirk. "Come now, Hades, don't be so—"
I closed the distance before he could finish, my hand locking around his throat. With a single motion, I lifted him from Hestia, his body writhing as he gasped for breath. His laughter turned to choked gurgles as I drove him backward, slamming him into a pillar with enough force to crack the stone.
"Hera!" I barked, my grip tightening. "Take Hestia somewhere safe."
Hera appeared at once, draping a cloak over a shaken Hestia and leading her back inside. Only then did I return my attention to the god struggling in my grasp.
"You dare defile my sister?" My voice was a whisper, but it carried more weight than a roar.
Priapus clawed at my wrist, his face turning red. "It was—just a jest," he wheezed. "A bit of fun—"
I drove my fist into his gut, doubling him over as I released my grip, letting him crumple to his knees. He barely had time to catch his breath before I drew my blade, its black steel gleaming under the moonlight.
"A jest," I repeated. "Then let us see if you still laugh when you are decapitated."
Priapus's eyes widened. "Wait—!"
The word was cut short as my blade sliced across his throat. He gurgled, hands flying to his neck as he slumped forward, blood pooling beneath him. Silence fell over the courtyard, save for the slow drip of inchor onto marble.
I turned to the gathered onlookers, my gaze sweeping over them like a storm. "Let this be a warning," I said, my voice carrying across the courtyard. "If anyone dares harm my sisters—or any member of my family—they will face a punishment far worse than death."
I pointed to a group of nymphs lingering nearby. "Clean this up. And when he is reborn, ensure that whatever form he takes—be it man, beast, or plant—does not live long enough to draw breath."
The nymphs nodded hastily and scrambled to obey.
Sheathing my blade, I turned back toward the throne room. At the entrance, I cast one final glance at the revelers, my voice ringing out like a funeral bell.
"The celebration is over. Clean up and go home."
Without another word, I vanished through the shadows to head back to the Underworld.
<----------------------->
The steady scratching of my fountain pen against parchment filled the quiet of my office. It was a soothing sound, one I'd come to appreciate in the calm moments when the weight of my domains wasn't pressing on my shoulders. The Underworld was vast and intricate, and even as its ruler, there were always matters to tend to—laws to refine, judgments to review, and plans to draft.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
"Enter," I said, setting the pen aside.
Oizys stepped in, looking hesitant. "My Lord, Lady Hecate has arrived."
I leaned back in my chair, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Show her in."
Oizys bowed and stepped aside, allowing her to enter. Hecate walked in with careful, measured steps, her black dress flowing around her like shadows. She looked unsure, her violet eyes darting around the room before finally settling on me.
"Lady Hecate," I greeted warmly, standing to offer her my attention. "Welcome to my domain."
She hesitated only for a moment before reaching for the ties of her dress and letting it drop, revealing herself to me.
My eyes widened as she stood in front of me nude. "What are you doing?" I asked, stepping forward.
She froze, her hands trembling as they clutched the fabric. "I—I thought you…" Her voice faltered, and she averted her gaze. "I thought you summoned me here to… have your way with me."
I sighed, raising a hand and had her clothes reappear on her body. "No," I said firmly but gently, "that was not my intent. Wait, if you thought that was the reason, why did you still come?"
"W-well, you are kinda cute so I didn't really mind." She muttered. I blinked slowly before laughing, the god of the underworld, a man who is all about death is cute? Then again Hecate in the myths was all over that.
"I asked you here to see if you would want to move here to the Underworld." I said after I stopped laughing, "I do also have openings for a job if you are interested."
"Wait, really?" she echoed, blinking in surprise. "I would love to move here, it is the perfect place for me to live and work on my craft, thank you!"
"You can live here in the castle." I said, gesturing for her to sit, though she remained standing. "I would like for you to serve as my assistant. The Underworld is quite vast and complex, and while I can manage its intricacies, I would prefer to have someone I trust to oversee its workings in my absence—when I'm called to Olympus or other matters that demand my attention."
She blinked again, her violet eyes wide. "Assistant?"
I nodded. "You would be responsible for managing certain aspects of the Underworld. Overseeing its denizens, ensuring laws are upheld, and assisting in the integration of those who come to live here."
Her brows furrowed in thought, and after a moment, she straightened her shoulders. "If you trust me with such a role… I accept."
"Good," I said with a faint smile, not believing the timing the visitors had. "It's perfect timing, then."
As if on cue, another knock sounded at the door.
Oizys stepped in once more. "My Lord, the leaders of the... demon tribe have arrived and seek an audience."
"Send them to the throne room," I instructed.
Oizys bowed and left, and I turned to Hecate. "You may as well see this firsthand."