I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close enough for a momentary spark of surprise to flicker in her eyes. With a thought, I teleported us to the throne room.
The demons filed in, their footsteps echoing across the obsidian floor. There were fewer of them than I'd anticipated—a mere handful. Their leader, a tall figure with crimson skin and curling black horns, stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"My Lord," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "I am Azarok, leader of what remains of the demon tribe."
"What remains?" I repeated, my tone carefully neutral as I studied the group.
Azarok nodded solemnly. "Yes, we traveled for many days, coming from a realm called Naraka. It is a place that is ruled by Lord Yama and let me just say that the place was… unkind to us. Many of our tribe has perished, and the rest barely survived, we are all that managed to escape. When we saw the splendor of your kingdom during our travels, we dared to dream of a better existence."
I raised a hand, silencing him. "Dreams are one thing, Azarok. Reality is another. If you and your people wish to live here, you will have to earn your place."
He straightened slightly, meeting my gaze with a mix of respect and determination. "What would you have us do, my Lord?"
"Serve me faithfully," I said, my voice carrying the weight of command. "Prove your loyalty, and I will grant you a village within my domain, with access to all the resources the Underworld offers. As long as you respect the laws of the Underworld then you shall be free to go anywhere you please."
Azarok's eyes gleamed with hope, and he dropped to one knee, bowing his head. "Thank you for your kindness, Lord Hades. We will serve you with unwavering loyalty. You have our word."
I inclined my head. "Good. From this day forward, you will answer to Lady Hecate. She will oversee your integration into the Underworld and report your progress to me."
Hecate's eyes widened as I gestured toward her. "Hecate," I said, "meet your first task as my assistant."
The demons turned their attention to her, bowing deeply. "We are at your service, Lady Hecate," Azarok said.
She stammered slightly, clearly overwhelmed. "I—I'll do my best," she managed, glancing at me nervously once the demons were dismissed.
"You'll do more than your best," I said, summoning a soft golden light between us. "You'll know exactly what's needed."
Before she could question me, I placed my hand lightly on her forehead. Her eyes widened as information flowed into her mind—the laws of the Underworld, its history, the intricacies of its governance, and my plans for its future.
She staggered slightly, her hand gripping the edge of my throne for support. "How… how did you do that?" she whispered.
"One of the many benefits of my station," I said with a faint smirk.
She straightened, her expression a mix of awe and determination. "Thank you… my Lord."
"You'll do fine," I said, rising from my throne. "Now if you excuse me, I shall be gone for several years to come."
"Why is that, Sir?"
"I have some followers to visit."
<------------------->
I arrived at the familiar clearing where the cave once stood, my gaze sweeping over the land. Much had changed in the years since I had last been here. The dense foliage had crept closer, the sounds of the wild more abundant. Yet the presence of people still lingered. This place was still theirs. Still mine.
The moment my feet touched the earth, figures emerged from the trees. Young men, strong and wary, gripping crude spears as they encircled me. Their eyes were hard, untrusting. They spoke in their guttural tongue, demanding to know who I was, what I was doing here, and why I had trespassed upon their land.
I found myself amused. Once, these people had cowered before me. Now, they stood tall, proud, and ready to defend their home.
"You wish to challenge me?" I asked, tilting my head. "Very well. Take me as your leader."
The young warriors exchanged uncertain glances. Their hands tightened on their weapons, but eventually, one of them stepped forward and produced a length of woven rope. He hesitated before speaking. "You will be bound. As all outsiders are."
I smirked. "If that is your custom, then so be it."
They bound my hands—not tightly, but enough to satisfy their ritual. With that, they led me through the trees, guiding me toward the heart of their settlement. The cave was still there, but it had expanded into something greater. Wooden structures now stood near its entrance, and more of their kind bustled about, carrying food, tools, and hides. They had grown. Evolved.
We entered the largest chamber, where a fire burned in the center. At its edge sat an old man, his body worn but his spirit unmistakable. The moment he laid eyes on me, he froze. His face drained of color, and in an instant, he was on his knees.
"Aidoneus!" The name escaped him in a breathless gasp. "Oh, fools, what have you done?!"
This old fool was the only one who had the guts to use my real name, then again I didn't have a problem with it.
The warriors surrounding me shifted uneasily as the old man turned on them, rage and fear warring in his expression. "Do you not see? Do you not know who this is? You have bound a god, you ignorant whelps! You bring death upon yourselves!"
The young men paled, immediately releasing the bindings on my wrists and falling to their knees in apology. Their voices overlapped in frantic explanations. They were new to the tribe. They had not believed the stories. They had not known.
I held up a hand, silencing them. "Rise. I am not so petty as to punish those who act out of ignorance. If anything, I commend your courage. Not many would dare bind the King of the Underworld."
The old chief—though he was no longer the one in charge, I could tell—shook his head in amazement. "You have returned. After all these years, you have come back to us."
I nodded, my gaze sweeping over the others who had now gathered, many of whom I recognized. Their faces bore more lines, their eyes carried more wisdom, but they were still the same people I had saved long ago.
"It has been too long," I admitted. "And I see that much has changed."
"We have grown," the old man said proudly. "We have taken in others—another tribe that wandered into our lands. They did not believe us when we told them of you. They thought us fools. But now, they see. Now, they know."
A child's voice piped up from the crowd, his small form pushing to the front. "If you are a god, why did you abandon us?"
I crouched, meeting the boy's curious gaze. "I didn't abandon you, I could never abandon my first worshipers. You see, I had to leave as I had to fight in a war against my father, Cronos. My brothers, sisters and I fought, and luckily we emerged victorious. Now, our youngest brother, Zeus sits upon his throne as King of Olympus."
The boy's nose wrinkled. "But why is Zeus king? Shouldn't you be? You are way smarter and super strong."
Laughter rumbled in my chest. "Perhaps. But fate has its own plans. And I have my own realm to tend to."
The old chief leaned forward. "How long will you stay?"
I glanced around at the eager faces. "For a time. There is still much for you to learn."
And so, I remained.
The days turned into weeks, then into months. The months bled into years. I taught them all I knew. At first, they struggled, but they were quick learners, hungry for knowledge in a way that mortals so often were. I showed them how to cultivate the land rather than merely forage, how to plant seeds and nourish them with care. Under my guidance, they built small gardens near the riverbank, learning which plants thrived in the soil and which could be used for medicine.
Hunting, too, became more than a game of chance. I taught them patience, how to track their prey by reading the broken twigs and disturbed leaves left in its wake. I showed them how to fashion stronger bows, how to carve arrowheads from stone, and how to use the wind to mask their scent. Their hunts became more efficient, their feasts more frequent. No longer did they suffer long winters of starvation.
At night, we gathered by the fire, and I taught them to read the stars. "The sky is a map," I told them, tracing constellations with my fingers. "Follow these markers, and you will never be lost." They whispered my words amongst themselves, eager to memorize each lesson. When storms loomed on the horizon, they knew when to seek shelter. When the seasons shifted, they prepared in advance.
But my greatest gift was not in tools or tactics—it was in the wisdom I left behind.
I carved for them stone tablets, inscribing upon them my own version of commandments—guidelines for living with honor, respect, and ambition. Twenty laws that, if followed, would elevate them beyond mere survival.
Among them:
Do not take what you have not earned. To steal from your kin is to weaken the whole.
Honor the old, for they hold the memories of those who came before.
Strength is not in the body alone, but in the mind and spirit.
Respect the dead. Their wisdom lingers in the earth.
And many more.
Another thing that I did was write ten books, each containing lessons meant to guide them. They called them the Scriptures of Aidoneus. Some spoke of accepting death as a natural passage rather than a fearsome end. Others encouraged the pursuit of wisdom, the importance of humility, and the legacy one leaves behind. One such book was dedicated entirely to the plants and animals of the land, detailing which were safe and which were deadly.
At first, I expected resistance. Change does not come easily to mortals. But they astonished me. They followed my teachings, not as blind zealots, but as students eager to shape a better life for themselves.
I watched their children grow. I witnessed the rise of new leaders. The boy who had once led me bound into the cave had become a great hunter, his skill unmatched. The girl who once wept at the death of her mother had become a healer, using the knowledge I had gifted her to mend wounds and cure sickness.
One evening, as I sat by the fire, the new chieftain approached me.
"You have given us much," he said. "But we fear what will happen when you leave."
I regarded him carefully. "And why should my leaving change anything?"
"Because we are only what you have made us. Without you, who will guide us?"
I smiled faintly. "You will guide yourselves. That was always the purpose."
The chieftain hesitated, then nodded solemnly. "Will you return?"
I looked over the tribe—the people I had come to care for, the ones who had shaped a future for themselves in my image.
"I will return," I told them, my voice steady. "And when I do, I expect to see all that I have taught you blossom into something greater. I hope you do not disappoint me."
"We will not fail you, Lord Hades. We are your people, always."
"... call me Aidoneus, that is the privilege I shall grant the chief." I said smiling.
The announcement of my departure spread quickly, and the tribe would not allow me to leave without a proper farewell. That night, they held a grand festival in my honor, a feast unlike any before. Fires roared high into the night, the scent of roasted meat and freshly harvested grains filling the air. The people adorned themselves in ceremonial paints, their bodies decorated with symbols they had created in my name.
Music filled the clearing as they beat drums fashioned from stretched hides and hollowed wood. The rhythmic pounding echoed through the valley, carrying their joy to the heavens. They danced in wild, sweeping motions, their voices rising in songs of praise and gratitude. I sat at the center, watching as they honored me in the only way they knew how—with celebration and revelry.
Gifts were brought forth—intricate carvings of stone and bone, woven garments dyed with the pigments of crushed berries and earth, tools crafted with the skills I had taught them. They laid them before me with bowed heads, offerings of thanks. I accepted each one, moved by their devotion.
An elderly woman approached me, her lined face illuminated by the fire's glow. She held in her hands a staff, carved from the oldest tree in the valley, adorned with symbols of my teachings. "Take this, Aidoneus," she said. "So that wherever you go, you carry a piece of us with you."
I took the staff, running my fingers over the etchings. "It is a fine gift. I will cherish it."
As the night waned, the tribe gathered once more at the entrance of the cave, just as they had when I first arrived. They stood in solemn silence, their eyes filled with both sorrow and pride. I looked upon them one last time, memorizing their faces, their unwavering faith.
With a final nod, I turned from them, stepping into the darkness beyond the fire's reach.
And as I vanished into the night, their voices rose in a final hymn, singing my name to the stars.