Love in the Underworld Draft
Here are the first 10,000 words of what would have been Love in the Underworld. I really loved the gods in this, but as you can see, they completely stole the show! The focus needed to be on Prosoper and Thaedus (or Hadeus, as he was known in this draft).
CHAPTER ONE
On the day the first crocus bloomed every spring, the gods convened on Mount Titeus to observe the dedication ceremonies of the mortals, in which those who had come of age that year pledged themselves to a particular god. Hadeus did not plan to be there. It wasn't as if any mortals ever declared themselves for him, and so there was little reason for him to attend.
At least, that was his opinion, but his brother, Zureus, king of the gods, apparently felt differently. He turned the invitation over in his hands, scanning the wording, looking for an excuse to get out of it.
Hebris, the messenger of the gods, tapped his winged foot impatiently. "Well? What's your answer? I have other invitations to deliver, you know."
"My brother surely knows that death cannot take a day off."
"You are the keeper of the dead. Your son is the reaper. I'm fairly certain the dead can keep themselves for a day, and trust me, no one wants your creepy son around the festivities. If you know what's good for you, you'll give me a message conveying how thrilled you are to attend. Come on, Uncle--it'll be fun."
Hadeus's lips thinned. "I doubt that."
Hebris shrugged. "Then turn it down. I don't care either way. In fact, it might be entertaining to see what Zures does if you do."
Hadeus suppressed a scowl. He was fairly certain he could take his brother in a fight--but probably not the entire pantheon. It wasn't as if he could die, but it was sure to make his existence miserable and keep him from his duties, besides. "You may tell my brother that I will attend."
"Glad to hear it." He saluted. "See you there." In a flash, he was gone.
As soon as the gates of the palace shut, Hadeus tore the invitation in two and dropped the pieces, which fluttered to the ground. Zil, his imp, darted out from Hadeus's shadow where it had been hiding when Hebis arrived, and chewed up the scraps. Zil was an amorphous creatures who could change its shape and size at will, but mostly it existed as a small, black creature that looked like something between a cat and a dog.
Hadeus sighed and rubbed his face. Zil zipped into the shadows again and reappeared on Hadeus's shoulder, butting its head against his cheek.
Hadeus rubbed its chin. "It will be up to you to guard the realm while I'm gone. Do you think you can handle it?"
Zil chirped its affirmation.
Hadeus gave it another scratch before picking it up and setting it down by his feet. "Go on, then. I have to prepare."
Zil disappeared into the shadow. Hadeus glided through the palace to his bedroom. Some might consider his palace gloomy--indeed, that was the intention. He did not care to make his realm appealing to his meddlesome family. However, he personally found the shades of icy blue to be soothing, not depressing. Everything was orderly and cool, symmetrical as a snowflake, as peaceful as a frozen pond on a winter's day. So much better than the oppressive brightness of Mount Titeus. Much quieter, too.
Once in his bedroom, he conjured a mirror and studied himself. The dark robes he usually wore were perfectly serviceable, but he knew there would be no end of teasing if he showed up in such plain attire. With a snap of his fingers, the robes morphed into a blue toga. He added a cloak in a darker shade of blue, pinned at the shoulder.
He gave himself another look. His clothes were less dour now, but there was nothing that would make his long, thin face any cheerier. Not that he desired it. He would not shorten his long, dark hair, nor would he shave his beard, the way some of the younger gods did to embody the ideal of youth. Hadeus had no desire to appear either young or old. He was a god. He was eternal. And he looked it.
He snapped his fingers again, and the toga vanished, replaced by his customary robes again. The ceremony wasn't until tomorrow, so he had some time before he had to brave the mountain. He could really use a glass of wine.
As was often the case when he had a need, Zil appeared, a glass of wine balance on a tray on its head. He picked it up and sat down in his favorite chair by the window. Zil curled up in his lap. He patted the imp absently as he gazed out at the realm of the dead, the place he called home. The sky was always dark, but a blue glow that emanated from the ground kept it from complete blackness. There was no day and no night in the realm of the dead. The fields outside his palace were covered in white poppies--the flowers of the dead. It gave him pleasure to gaze upon them, although it was not without a tinge of melancholy. Mortals placed these flowers on the graves of their loved ones, in hopes that the god of the dead would take pity on them.
What they didn't know was that there was no need to bribe him. He had pity for every mortal that came to his realm. Unlike his family, who demanded sacrifices and pledges from their followers, he had no desire for such things. This was why the dedication ceremony each year rankled him. What need had his family for adulation and sacrifices from beings whose lives were no more than a brief flicker of light? Didn't they have enough?
Besides, all mortals gave him their lives, eventually. He couldn't ask for more than that.
***
Hadeus squinted as he reached the gates at the top of Mount Titeus. The sun was so bright up here--naturally, since Aon, his brother who controlled the sun, liked to keep an eye on its progress. Once upon a time, he personally drove the chariot across the sky each day. But then Phasdas, the goddess of invention, had mechanized his duties for him, and now he spent most of his time in pursuit of pleasure, as they all did.
He was greeted at the gate by the giant sentries, who let him in with no more than a cursory look. They were not really necessary, as any mortal who passed through the gates would be instantly vaporized, but they did look rather impressive, and looks were important to his family.
As much as he was loathe to admit it, Mount Titeus was nothing less than paradise. Fantastic trees and flowers lined the golden road to the heart of the city of the gods. The rules that applied on earth did not apply here, and so the plants came in every shade of the rainbow instead of the usual green, and even changed colors depending on the mood of anyone around. They shifted to a cool blue as he walked.
In the distance, he could make out the palaces of the gods. There were six--one for each of the original gods, save him. Each reflected the domain and temperament of its master. Aon's palace, made entirely of gold, was perched on clouds high above the land. Seela, goddess of the moon, had her cloud palace at the opposite end of the mountain--it was a cool silver, and shifted in and out of view depending on her mood. Redia's home reflected her position as the goddess of the earth--it was nestled into the side of a hill and surrounded by trees and flowers. Zureus and Hada, king and queen of the gods, had twin palaces right in the heart of the city, each towering and mighty, although Hada's was more tasteful while Zureus's was ostentatious. Osideon, the god of the ocean, spent most of the time in his palace in the sea on earth, but he kept a residence here too, on the shores of the Shining Sea.
Only Hadeus did not have a palace here. He did, once, but gave it up when his annoyance with his family became too great. Zureus made occasional comments that he was welcome to return, and even came close to ordering it. Why, Hadeus couldn't say. When he did reside on the mountain, his siblings complained about how he was a stick in the mud.
He reached the city, where all of the lesser gods and demigods made their home. Their houses, while not as grand as the palaces, were still far nicer than any mortal dwelling. Many also had homes in the Endless Fields, or by the Shining Sea, or in any of the infinite places of beauty on Mount Titeus. It had grown awfully crowded, as far as Hadeus was concerned. Yet another reason to stay away.
And it was quite crowded today, in the central square at the steps of Zureus' and Hada's palaces. Mount Titeus was the home of not only the gods and goddesses, but a host of otherworldly creatures: demigods, nymph, dyriads, satyrs, centaurs, and giants, to name a few. The dedication ceremony was an event like no other at Mount Titeus. The mortal realm may be wretched, but it was a great deal more exciting than paradise.
A cup of wine was pressed into his hand by a passing nymph, who giggled and scampered off, turning back a couple of times to see if he would chase her and seeming disappointed when he didn't. He sighed. This was going to be a trying day. He downed his glass.
"Brother!"
He looked up to see Seela gliding toward him, her white hair flowing behind her in shining waves. She smiled upon reaching him and kissed his cheek. "It's been too long--a century, at least."
He returned her kiss. "Surely not that long."
"Oh, at least that long, I'm certain. It's good to see you."
"And you. You look well."
"More than well, I hope!" She gestured to a comb in her hair. "Look what I'm wearing."
"It's lovely," he said, without giving it much of a look.
"Don't you recognize it? It's the comb you gave me!"
Hadeus regarded it again. "So it is. I'm pleased you like it."
"Of course I do! You are the only god with any taste. You should see the gifts Aon keeps flinging at me. So garish. He is such an ass. And Osideon--I tire of him as well. Not that he's noticed, with all his naiad floozies." She threaded her arm through his and batted her eyelashes. "But now you're here! You should come to my palace after the ceremony. We could have a lovely time, just you and me."
And so it began. Hadeus was the only god who had never graced her bed. Hadeus wasn't sure if she truly desired him or if she hoped to be able to claim she'd had them all. Either way, Hadeus was not interested.
He extracted himself from her grasp. "I would gladly be a guest in your home, but not in your bed."
She pouted. "Don't you find me beautiful?"
"There is none as lovely as you."
"Do you really think so? Not even Kleo?"
Kleo was her daughter, the goddess of beauty. One would think there would be at least some tenderness between them, but they hated each other almost since the moment of her birth. It didn't help that they'd roped some poor mortal into judging who was the most beautiful, and the mortal had picked Kleo. That particular mortal had been more than happy to enter Hadeus's kingdom after the torments Seela put him through. "She can't hold a candle to you."
Seela patted her hair, pleased. "Then why won't you come to bed with me? Just for one night?"
"You know why."
"Still on about that mortal, are you? What was name again?"
"Dyion," he said quietly.
"It's been a millennium. Surely you have mourned long enough."
"I am serious about my vows."
"I know, I know." She sighed. "You have the best taste, and you are the most romantic."
"And it would not be very romantic of me if I discarded my vow to Dyion."
"I suppose not." She kissed his cheek again. "I'm serious about my invitation. I promise I won't molest you."
He inclined his head. "Then I will see you then."
She turned to leave, but stopped. "Oh, and if you see Aon, do not tell him that you saw me. But if you see Osideon, tell him I invited you to be my guest, and that I was wearing your comb in my hair. Mention how good I looked."
When she was gone, Hadeus braved the crowd in an attempt to find another wine bearing nymph, but was unsuccessful. Instead, he found Aon. Or rather, Aon found him. Hadeus did his best to escape him, but had no such luck.
"Brother!" Aon said, clapping him on the shoulder. "How the hell are you?"
Hadeus gritted his teeth. "I am well."
"You don't look it. Every time I see you, I am awestruck by how pale you are. And not pale in the way Seela is pale--you know, that beautiful luminescence. Your skin is like the belly of a fish."
Hadeus had no response to that. Fortunately, Aon never seemed to expect a response to his proclamations. True to form, he barreled on. "It's looking like a good crop of mortals this year. I'm expecting at least a thousand new pledges. Nothing like that rush of new devotees, eh? Oh wait, that's right--no one ever declares for you."
Hadeus opened his mouth to reply, but Aon didn't give him a chance.
"Sorry, that was rude of me, wasn't it? But it is true, after all. Do you know Seela had the nerve to say I was an ass? Now that's rude, especially since it isn't true. I am the god of the sun! How can the god of the sun be an ass? Impossible! I'd like to see an ass be the light of the world. Ha! Can you imagine? Just a big donkey head in the middle of the sky? How absurd. Anyway, if you made more of an effort, I'm sure you could get a least a few devotees. You are pale and odd, but you do have a sense of mystery you could play up. I mean, I can't imagine what kind of mortal would want to spend his life devoted to death, but there are some real loons down there, just some truly bizarre people--you'd be surprised." He stopped to take a breath. "Say, have you seen Seela around? Osideon found this ring I gave her in one of his oceans. That's the third time she's dropped it--she ought to be more careful."
Hadeus waited a beat to make sure he was finished. "No, I have not seen her."
"Huh. That's strange. I heard she was excited about seeing you. Maybe she changed her mind." He clapped him on the back again. "Well, it was nice catching up. See you around!"
Hadeus definitely needed another drink before he met another one of his siblings. He caught Osideon out of the corner of his eye. Fortunately, his focus was on the two naiads in his lap.
"More wine?" said a voice from behind him.
He turned and saw a stunningly beautiful young man, with dark curls the color of midnight and cheekbones as chiseled as the finest statue. He had the glow of a god about him, although Hadeus had never seen him before. One of Zureus's mortal converts, no doubt. Each of the seven original gods had the ability to grant godhood to mortals they deemed worthy, although Hadeus had relinquished that power long ago. Zureus had made it a rule that only the most worthy mortals should be granted godhood and lectured his siblings about carelessly letting just anyone into Mount Titeus. His point was undercut by how often he gifted immortality to mortals whose only great achievement was being sexy. He always came up with some justification. Hadeus didn't know who he was trying to fool. Certainly not his wife, Hada.
Hadeus held out his cup. "Please."
A bottle appeared out of thin air. The young man took hold of it and filled Hadeus's cup. "You're Hadeus, aren't you? Lord of the dead?"
"That I am."
"You're the only one of the big seven I haven't met yet. Nice to meet you."
"You as well. What's your name?"
Before the young man had a chance to reply, a booming voice sounded from across the square. "Is that Hadeus I see?"
The crowd parted, allowing Zureus to make his way through. Hada followed him, a scowl on her face. Zureus laughed and pulled him into a bear hug. "You old devil!" he said, pulling back. He thumped him on the back several times. "You made it after all!"
"How could I refuse?" he said dryly.
Hada smirked, but Zureus didn't seem to notice his tone. "I see you've met Dixon! A most worthy mortal--he has only just achieved godhood."
Hada rolled her eyes. "Most worthy, indeed. Go on, boy. Tell Hadeus all about your 'great feats'."
Dixon looked down. "It's nothing," he mumbled.
"No need to be modest!" Zureus said. "Here, I'll tell the story. There I was in the mortal realm--in disguise, of course, just visiting as I am wont to do on occasion. I like to keep abreast of the mortal realm. Anyway, so I got to an inn and asked for some wine. But time and again, the mortals serving spilled it! All over me, staining my tunic. And this brought to mind a problem we've had on Titeus for ages--wine just being spilled everywhere. It was chaos. But then, this young man came, and he poured me a glass--and guess what? Not a single drop was spilled! And so I asked him for another glass, and again, not one drop went to waste! And so I decided to test him.
"The next time he came around, I tripped him. Still, he did not spill. I moved my cup out of the way--and he didn't miss a drop! I put him through quite a night, and never once did he err. That's when I knew we needed him up here. And so I made him Dixon, cup bearer to the gods." He nudged Dixon. "Go on, boy! Show him what you can do!"
Dixon's cheeks were bright red. "I already poured him some."
"Well, then, he's seen your skill!" He turned back to Hadeus. "Weren't you amazed?"
"I was astonished."
"There! You see, Hada? He agrees with me! And look, your cup is empty. Just give him a chance."
Hada held out her cup. Dixon hesitated. Hadeus didn't blame him--the look she was giving him would strike fear into the hearts of the greatest heroes. The wine bottle appeared again. Dixon poured. His hand was remarkably steady.
When her glass was full, Hada threw it on Zureus's toga. "Oops," she said. "Guess we're not safe from spills, after all. Maybe you need to appoint a god of stain removal." She dropped the cup and left.
They all watched her leave. Zureus chuckled and patted Dixon on the back. "Don't worry, she'll get used to you. She always does." He patted him again, a little lower this time. "Keep up the good work."
He put a hand on Hadeus's shoulder and walked him a few steps away. "There's something I want to talk to you about," he said in what passed as a lowered voice for him. "Well, not just me. It's all of your siblings. We have a matter to discuss with you, but not in front of the others. Will you meet with us?"
That sounded ominous, but Hadeus merely inclined his head. "As you wish."
"Good. In the meantime, enjoy yourself! Let Dixon show you a good time--cups aren't the only thing he can bear, if you catch my drift." He elbowed him lightly in the ribs and waggled his eyebrows.
"I'll keep it in mind."
Dixon approached him again after Zureus had left. "Do you think it's true? That Hada will get used to me?"
"Anything is possible," Hadeus said carefully.
Dixon kicked the ground moodily. "I'll take that as a no."
"She will definitely notice you less, over time," Hadeus said.
"Just as Zureus will, I'm sure." He crossed his arms and looked around. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but godhood is not what I imagined it would be. I suppose it's nice that I'll never die--" He stopped. "I'm sorry, is that offensive to you? What with you being lord of the dead and all."
"You have not offended me."
Dixon looked relieved. "It seems like every time I open my mouth, I'm offending someone. And there's nothing to do, especially since Zureus seems to have lost interest in me already."
"His attention does tend to wander."
"So I noticed. Do you know that he promised he would love me forever?" He sniffed. "I've only been here six months, and already he's tried to pawn me off on you!" He stopped. "No offense again."
"None taken."
They lapsed into silence. "So," Dixon said eventually. "Do you want to fuck?"
"No, thank you."
Dixon shrugged. "Suit yourself." He wandered off.
The great fountain in the center of the square began to glow, and everyone murmured with excitement. It was through its magical waters that they would be able to watch the ceremonies on earth. They would begin soon.
He thought he had escaped another awkward conversation with a family member, but alas, no such luck.
"Yoo-hoo! Uncle Hadeus!" called a girlish voice.
It had been a century at least, but there was no forgetting that voice--Kleo, goddess of beauty. Briefly, he considered pretending he hadn't noticed her, but they had already made eye contact. She was standing by the fountain. She smiled broadly when their eyes met, and gestured for him to come over.
He would rather not, but just about everyone on Mount Titeus would be annoying in some way or another, so with an inward sigh, he made his way to her side.
Kleo threw her arms around him and put a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Uncle! How are you?"
"I am well," he mumbled as he untangled himself from her embrace. "And you?"
"Fabulous, as always." She smiled at him again. Truth be told, he thought Kleo outshone her mother. Seela was unreal in her loveliness--there was something eerie about her silver skin and white hair. But Kleo's beauty was all natural. Flowers bloomed in her dark hair, and in her eyes were all the greens and browns of the forest. She favored the dark complexion of her father, Osideon, and her beauty had the lure of the sea--it pulled you in, whether you wanted it to or not. "I'm so happy to see you."
Hadeus eyed her warily. "Why?"
She laughed and put her hand on his arm. "A girl can't be happy to see her own uncle, after so many years?"
"And why would you want to see me?"
"It gets boring here in paradise--always the same faces. Well, I suppose not always, with Zureus's various conquests arriving here and there, but most of them are terribly dull."
"I assure you, you will find me equally dull."
She laughed. "Oh no, Uncle. You are very mysterious. And I like mysteries--there are so few of them left."
The glow from the water grew stronger. Kleo giggled. "Oh, it's too exciting! I know it happens every year, but I'm always delighted. There are many mortals who have made their intentions clear already--by the end of the day, I'm sure to have a whole new crop. In fact, I'm certain to have the most, which means I'll win the betting pool, too. I am going to have so many favors owed to me!"
"Congratulations."
Kleo eyed him. "Worship is wonderful feeling, you know--a rush like no other, with so many mortals devoted to you, singing your praises, sacrificing to you... You really ought to try it."
"It's not really up to me, is it? The mortals must choose."
"I suppose, but you do need to put in a little effort. A little miracle here, an answered prayer there. It doesn't take much. They're so wretched, the poor things--even the smallest divine touch in their lives means so much."
"I don't think many mortals want the touch of death in their lives."
"Well, when you put it that way, no, but whose to say that death is your only dominion?"
Hadeus blinked. "I am the god of death. That has been my dominion since time began. So it is, and so it shall ever be. Are you suggesting that I just give up and take on something else?"
"No, of course not! But you can safely claim related dominions. For example, I inspire people, so I am the goddess of inspiration. I also get in on the love action--I know Amara is furious about that, but it is often from beauty that love is born, so I think it's fair. I've also branched out into..." She held up her hand and counted off on her fingers. "...pleasure, procreation, fashion, dancing, and gardening."
"Gardening?"
"Yes--flowers, in particular. I love flowers." She thrust out her chest and pointed to a flower pinned on her toga. "See? This is a particularly rare bloom, found only on the cliffs of Torini. A devotee of mine got it for me. Wasn't that sweet?"
"And died doing it," Hadeus said.
She gasped. "How did you know that?" Hadeus just looked at her. She put a hand in front of her mouth and giggled. "Oh, of course. Silly me. Well, they all die eventually. I made sure to heap many blessings on his family."
"Why didn't you just go get it yourself?"
"Me, climb the cliffs of Torini? Don't be stupid--the winds would dry out my complexion." She waved a hand dismissively. "But enough about me--let's focus on you."
Hadeus crossed his arms. "And what dominions related to death do you think would attract mortals?"
She opened her mouth to reply, and then shut it again. Her perfectly sculpted brows furrowed as she rubbed her chin. Hadeus hoped that would be the end of it, but after a few moments, she snapped her fingers. "Gold!"
Now it was Hadeus's turn to be baffled. "Gold? Why gold?"
"Not just gold--all precious metals. Jewels, too."
"And how do you figure that?"
"You're god of the underworld, aren't you? That's underground, which is also where you find gold and jewels! Mortals can't get enough of that stuff. You might even gain as many devotees as me!" She stopped and rubbed her chin again. "But jewels are very beautiful, wouldn't you say? I think that I could also fairly be the goddess of jewels. Something to think about for next year, at any rate. I'll leave gold to you, though."
"That won't be necessary. I do not desire worship."
She scoffed. "Of course you do. You may not think you do, but you do."
Irritation surged in him. He knew he shouldn't let her get to him--he found the rest of his family easier to brush off, but not Kleo. Perhaps she was also the goddess of getting under people's skin. "You presume to tell me what I desire?"
"Naturally. I am the goddess of desire, after all. Did I mention that one? Anyway, I can definitely tell when people desire something, and you, dear uncle, desire worship."
"Oh, really? And how, pray tell, do you know that?"
"You're miserable, clearly."
"I am not miserable."
"Oh yeah? When was the last time you smiled?"
"I don't recall," he grumbled. "And what does it matter? Duty is its own reward--a lesson the rest of you lot could stand to learn!"
Kleo rolled her eyes. "And here comes the lecture. You are a real miserable bastard, you know that? Seriously, you should smile more--it would do you good."
He sputtered. "Smile more?" he said, losing his temper at last. "Smile more? And what is there to smile about, hmm? While the rest of you live in the clouds, I alone see the world for what it truly is. I keep its sorrows, so that all the rest of you can continue your selfish decadence. So no, I do not need to smile more. You all need to smile less!"
Kleo crossed her arms and turned away from him with a huff. Hadeus thought that it was the end of their conversation, but just as he was about to leave, she spoke up again. "I bet I can make you smile. I am very good at coaxing smiles from even the hardest hearts."
Hadeus scoffed. "Spare me your superficial tricks. They might work on mortals, but not on me."
She batted her eyelashes. "Sweetheart, you don't know even a tenth of what I'm capable of. And besides, if you're so sure that you can resist my 'tricks,' then this should be an easy bet for you to win. I'll even put a limit on it--I have six months to make you smile. If you don't, then I lose."
He knew he should let it go, but a victory over Kleo was tempting. "And what do I get if I win?"
"What do you want?"
Hadeus thought about it. "I want you to cease your illusions to the mortals for ten years. No more hiding evil behind a pretty facade. You show them things the way they are."
"Done. And if I win, I want Dyion's bloom."
Hadeus blinked. "Dyion's bloom? Why?"
She shrugged. "I told you--I'm into gardening now. And Dyion's bloom is the most legendary flower in existence--the first flower, born of the death of the first mortal. I've always thought it was a shame that it's kept in some miserable old cave in the underworld where no one can appreciate it."
"The cave isn't miserable. I keep it well maintained." And it's more appreciated than you can imagine, he almost added but thought better of it.
"So we have a deal, then?" She held out her hand.
Hadeus hesitated. To lose Dyion's bloom would be a great loss. On the other hand, he had gone centuries without smiling, so it seemed unlikely that she would be able to win. And having the evils of the world no longer masked by Kleo's deceptions would no doubt add years to some mortal lives.
He took her hand. "Deal."
Kleo gave him a dazzling smile. "Don't worry--I will take good care of your flower. You can come see it whenever you like. And you'll feel so much better when you smile. My victory will be a win for us both!"
Hadeus was saved from having to respond by another burst of light from the fountain.
Kleo clapped her hands and cooed with excitement. "It's starting!"
All of the gods gathered around the fountain--it was large enough that everyone had a good view of the happenings. The ceremonies for devotion took place in dozens of cities, but gods were good at splitting their attention. Hebris kept a tally of how many new devotees each god received. There were cheers from gods doing well, and sulks from gods whose numbers weren't what they had hoped.
As expected, Hadeus found it tiresome, and his mind started to wander. He was brought back to attention when the crowd suddenly went quiet. All of their collective attention turned to the city of Syntos.
Hadeus frowned. "What's happening?"
"Prosoper is about to declare his devotion," Kleo said.
"Who?"
"Only the most interesting mortal to come about in ages."
"What makes him so interesting?"
"Where to start? He started to play music at age four, and is a master of just about every musical instrument. He's also a poet, having composed some of the most magnificent poems the world has ever heard. Not only that, but he's an artist--he's sculpted statues so realistic that Zureus himself tried to, ahem, seduce one. As if that weren't enough, he's an athlete as well, excelling in archery and racing. And look at him," she gestured to the water. "He's gorgeous!"
Hadeus peered into the water at the boy. He was indeed beautiful, with bronzed skin and golden curls, neither burly nor delicate in build but somewhere in the middle. His expression was serene as he approached the altar, in spite of the fact that the mortals' attention on him was just as great as the gods was.
"Well?" Kleo said. "Don't you agree that he is beautiful?"
"I suppose he is."
"And he's humble about it, too. I've been to visit him three times in various disguises, trying to get him to admit that he thinks he's more beautiful than I. He never waivers. Which is why I know that he will be declaring for me today."
"Bullshit!"
Kleo and Hadeus looked up to see Phasdas, the burly goddess of invention, staring at them.
"The boy is mine," she continued. "He's come up with more inventions than I've seen of any mortal, and he's only twenty-two years old! His mind will get better the older he gets. Not so for his looks, so why would he declare for you?"
"Too true!" said Idara, goddess of song. "But cousin, while his inventions are indeed ingenious, he only invents to make his life more convenient. His true passion is for his music, and it is through music that he will secure his legacy. With my aide, he will compose songs that will be sung by his children's children's children, and beyond."
Aon inserted himself into the conversation. "You're all wrong," he said, preening. "The boy knows that in order to accomplish the things he wants, he needs to be in peak physical condition. As the god of the sun and the giver of life, I am the one he will pledge to. Why would he bother with you second generation gods anyway, when he can pledge to one of the original pantheon?"
An argument broke out at that point, with many other gods and goddesses making their own cases for why Prosoper would pledge to them. Kleo tugged on Hadeus's arm and lowered her voice. "They're all wrong. He's going to declare for me for sure."
"And how can you be so certain?"
"Because his family has declared for me for generations. And his father made a substantial sacrifice to me in exchange for a perfect child. Which I delivered, obviously. And believe me, it was not easy. I had to ignore a lot of other prayers to make it happen." She smirked. "His father promised him to me--I paid him a little visit just last week to make sure. He will declare for me, and then he will write me songs and poems, and make statues of me, and beget a whole litter of gorgeous babies who will do the same for generations more to come."
Before Hadeus could respond, Aon shushed everyone. "Shut up, everyone! He's started!"
They all peered into the pool as he began to speak. "My name is Prosoper, and before I pledge myself to one god, I offer this prayer to them all." He bowed his head and seemed to gather himself.
Hada nodded in approval. "He's so respectful. Maybe he'll declare for me."
Zureus, Aon, and Osideon burst out laughing. "You?" Zureus managed to choke out.
She clenched her fists. "Well, a nice boy like that certainly won't declare for any of you pigs!"
Redia, the goddess of the earth and self-appointed peace-keeper, spoke up. "Please, brothers and sisters--this is a sacred occasion. Let us make peace and--"
"--shut the fuck up so we can hear him?" Seela finished for her. "Well said, sister--I agree!"
Redia stiffened. "That isn't what I--"
She was shushed by the rest of them as Prosoper began to speak:
"The gods are not so easy to please
Though we mortals may try
We are but clumsy children, and they
Are masters of the sky
The light of my life is nothing to Aon's sun
My song in the night is nothing to Seela's moon
And what ship could I build to sail on Osideon's seas
That he could not dash to pieces if it so pleased him?
To Zureus, I could offer my beauty
But it pales in comparison to Hada
And Redia, she who keeps the whole earth
What use would she have of a speck like me?
If I offered myself to Kleo, surely she would turn in disgust at my ugliness
If I offered myself to Phasdas, surely she would scorn my stupidity
And Idara would surely hold her hands to her ears rather than listen to my screeching
No, the gods are not so easy to please
Save one
Who asks for nothing
For he embraces each mortal, in the end.
And so I pledge myself to Hadeus
Hadeus, my life is now yours
I only ask that I may borrow it for some time
Until you call me home."
There was dead silence, both in the mortal realm and on Mount Titeus. Prosoper stood and quickly descended from the altar. As soon as he was gone, every being on Mount Titeus turned and looked at Hadeus.
Aon broke the silence. "You son of a bitch. How did you do it?"
"I did nothing!" he protested.
"Oh, come off it! You pulled some sort of trick!"
"I assure you, I am surprised as you are." And he was. He looked down at the mortal realm, trying to pick Prosoper out again, but he had vanished into the crowd. What was the boy thinking?
The rest of the gods broke out in argument. Hadeus turned to Kleo, who hadn't said a word. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her hands were clenched in fists.
"I made no effort to sway him to me," Hadeus said. "This is all of his own doing."
She met his gaze. "I know," she said tightly. "Which makes this even more infuriating." She turned heel and stomped away.
The rest of the ceremonies went by in a blur. Hadeus turned it over and over in his mind, but couldn't find a single reason why such a promising young man would choose him, of all the gods, to devote his life to. Oh, there had been some, back in the early days, who devoted themselves to him out of the misguided belief that Hadeus would give them immortality if they worshiped him. He made his feelings on the subject quite clear, ensuring that there were very few who tried it.
But in his prayer, Prosoper had not seemed like he was trying to avoid death. In fact, he mentioned specifically that he expected to die some day. Was the boy suicidal? Again, that seemed unlikely, given that he did request to live for some time. It made no sense.
Eventually, the ceremonies ended. The lesser gods and other divine creatures dispersed, including Kleo, presumably, since she had avoided him for the rest of the ceremonies. The main pantheon retired to Zureus's palace. Hadeus stood there for an awkward moment, unsure of what to do.
Hebris approached him. "Zureus requests your presence."
***
Hadeus allowed Hebris to lead him into the palace. As king of the gods, Zureus did not go for subtlety with his palace's design. The ceilings were so high that it dwarfed even the gods, making Hadeus feel unexpectedly small. The walls were made of crystal, which caught the light and cast rainbows all around. There was a lot of light--so bright that he had to squint. He was not used to this brightness. It was almost painful.
His heart sank when he realized that Hebris was leading him to the throne room. Earlier, Zureus had made it sound like his request was informal, but a trip to the throne room meant that the subject was more serious, especially since the other gods had been summoned as well.
When he entered the room, the other gods were already settled on their thrones. He had a throne here too--he might not keep a palace on Mount Titeus, but he was still a god, after all. The thrones each reflected their god's domains. Zureus's was the largest, made of crystal and sparkling with every gem imaginable. Hada's was the same, but more elegant than bold. Seela's throne was silver and sleek, and Aon's was golden and garish. Redia's was made of wood, with blooming vines curling around it. Osideon's was made of coral and studded with pearls.
His own was made of obsidian--dark, but gleaming. The others watched him as he took his place. It had been at least a century since he'd sat on his throne. It was hard and uncomfortable.
Zureus cleared his throat. "It's so good of you to join us, Hadeus. I think I speak for us all when we say we have missed your presence here at Titeus."
The rest of them all nodded, and to their credit, they seemed sincere. And if Hadeus was honest with himself, he'd missed them too. They were infuriating, but they were his family.
However, he didn't miss them enough to want to move to Titeus. "It has been good to see you, too. However, I think it is imperative I remain in the Underworld. As god of the underworld--"
"Oh, we're not asking you to move here," Zureus interrupted. "We know you're happy down there. And we all want you to be happy, don't we?"
The others made enthusiastic sounds of agreement. From the way they were looking at him, they all wanted something, although Hadeus couldn't think of what. He felt a headache coming on. "If this is not about me moving back to Titeus, then may I ask what the purpose of this meeting is?"
Zureus cleared his throat again. "You know more about mortal lives than any of us. Wouldn't you say that's so?"
"I suppose."
"We are curious as to why they wear out so quickly."
Hadeus eyed him. "'Wear out?'"
"You know--decay. Become old, and die. There's a very short time when they're in the prime, so to speak. It's like one moment they're beautiful maidens and youths, and I blink and suddenly they're crones and geezers!" He rubbed the back of his neck. "And we were just wondering if there was something you could, you know, do about that."
"What do you mean?"
Zureus glanced at Hada before continuing. "There are so many mortals who are deserving of more time to enjoy youth, but it's been brought to my attention that making these people gods and bringing them to Titeus is not the best method of granting that extended life. So we thought maybe you could prolong their lives a bit longer."
Hadeus stared at him. "Don't you think if it were within my power to give them more time that I would have done so already?"
"I don't know. Is it something you think would be hard? Because I'm not talking about everyone--just worthy mortals."
Hadeus was stunned into silence. Of all the stupid, selfish... He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before answering. "Perhaps you do not remember, but the mortals were made specifically by our mother, Ionea, in revenge for you tearing all of us out of her womb, throwing our father into the sky, and using her body to create the world."
Zureus rubbed his chin. "She was rather put out by that, wasn't she? But it's not like she gave us much choice."
Aon spoke up. "I remember when she made the mortals. But why would you think she did so out of revenge?"
"Because she said so, specifically. She was cackling as she did so."
Seela spoke next. "I remember--she's so dramatic, and a tad insane. Why would making them die hurt us?"
"Because she assumed that we would fall in love with the mortals, and then be heartbroken when they died. She cursed us with unending grief."
Osideon snorted. "Joke's on her--it didn't work."
Hadeus's eyes stung. "Yes," he spat as fury spread through him. "It was a wasted effort, clearly."
Redia looked at him kindly. "I remember. We are all very grateful that you opened the underworld to take in their souls."
Seela nodded. "Oh yes. Very grateful! All those ghosts wandering around was ghastly!"
"Yes, indeed," Zureus said. "In fact, I think Hadeus deserves a round of applause!"
They all clapped while Hadeus glowered at them. If Zureus thought that was supposed to placate him, he was sorely mistaken. "I did it for their sake, not yours! And no, I cannot extend their lives. Their mortality is a key component of their nature--to change them would make them monstrous. The balance of life is very delicate. Interfering with that natural order would throw all of creation into chaos, and I'm certainly not about to attempt it just so that you can enjoy them longer. It is monstrously selfish for you to ask that!"
Zureus sniffed. "Here, now. There's no need to be unpleasant. I was only asking."
"And it's bullshit," Aon interjected. "You bring people back sometimes. I've seen you do it."
"Only very rarely. The circumstances have to be exceptional. And even then, I can only manage it once per person. Any more than that, and things start to go wrong." He crossed his arms to his chest. "I learned that the hard way," he added softly.
Hada smirked. "I told you so," she said to Zureus. "You know, the easiest solution is for you to stop screwing mortals. It's not like there's nothing for you to fuck here on Mount Titeus."
Zureus chuckled uncomfortably. "That's not what this was about! I was inquiring for the sake of the mortals--"
Hadeus and Hada scoffed in unison.
Zureus heaved a sigh. "Well, I thought it couldn't hurt to ask."
Hadeus stood. "If that's all, then I will take my leave."
Zureus waved a hand. "Yes, yes, fine."
The other gods got up as well and mingled amongst themselves. Hadeus made to leave, but Seela intercepted him. "Oh dear, you're very offended, aren't you? Zureus is such a pig. I told him it was a bad idea." She looked over her shoulder in the direction of Osideon and waited until he was looking to put her hand on his arm. "Please, allow me to soothe you back at my palace."
Hadeus removed her hand. "I am no longer in the mood."
She pouted. "You're no fun." With that, she flounced off.
Hadeus left after that, the flowers in his path turning bright red in his wake. It had been a mistake to leave the underworld -- a mistake he wouldn't make again. But first, he would visit the one goddess he respected -- one who had skipped the ceremony, for she too shunned the worship of mortals and the company of gods. Certia, goddess of truth. It would be good to see her.
CHAPTER TWO
Prosoper rode a donkey back to the city of Syntos. The king of [land] had offered his finest stallion in thanks to Prosoper for slaying the harpy that had been terrorizing the countryside, but Prosoper had requested the donkey instead. It was impossible for Prosoper to turn down the gold he'd been awarded, or the the feast that had been held in his honor. Most people couldn't handle a selfless hero. It made them feel indebted, or else suspicious of his motives. And so he always made sure to accept the offerings that were his due, and to smile and eat what was offered, and then to leave the minute he could.
But he managed to convince the king that a magnificent steed would attract too much attention. The king had laughed and said he was certain no one would dare attack the great Prosoper, so what did it matter? But he did give in eventually.
Prosoper liked the donkey, who was called Clover. He was sweet tempered, and not as excitable as a fancy steed.
When the city came into view, he dismounted and went ahead of Clover, leading him down the road. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. Hopefully, he would not be recognized right away. It was inevitable once he reached his parent's home--they were sure to make a big to-do about their hero son returning home. But until then, he hoped to enjoy a little peace.
If it were up to him, he would not have returned to Syntos at all. But he was twenty-five now, and the time had come for him to declare for a god or goddess, to ask for their blessings in exchange for his devotion. He couldn't very well get out of it--sometimes it felt like the whole world was waiting to hear who the great Prosoper would declare for. He'd even overheard people making bets on it. Apparently, the odds favored Kleo, the goddess of beauty.
But the truth of the matter was that Prosoper still didn't know who he would devote himself to. There was a strong tradition of service to Kleo in his family. His father in particular was noted for his devotion to the goddess. He knew that he would be devastated if he chose a different deity.
But Prosoper didn't feel a connection with her at all. It was true that he was beautiful. His good looks were not something he took particular pride in, seeing that he had very little say in his appearance and did not find it as fascinating as others apparently did. It was hard to talk to people sometimes, with the way they gawked at him and commented on his beauty as if he were some lovely statue they had come across, and not a person attempting to have a conversation with them.
His father said that he should be grateful that Kleo had blessed him so. It didn't feel like a blessing. Not that he was stupid enough to express that out loud--the gods were always watching, always waiting for mortals to slip up and insult them and give them an excuse to extract elaborate revenge. It must be very boring up on Mount Titeus, if the gods were so in want of things to do that they spent all their time spying on people.
The presumption that he would declare for Kleo was not based on his looks alone, however. He was well-known as an artist--he painted, sculpted, and composed music and poetry. People raved about his art, although sometimes he thought they raved simply because it was a way to communicate to others their exquisite sense of taste. He'd tested it out once by making a sculpture of dung heap, which was immediately praised as a work of genius, with several people getting into a nasty bidding war over it.
He didn't create art for the accolades. He simply had very little choice in the matter, as was the case with his looks. Creation streamed from him--he could no more stop making art than he could stop breathing. It wasn't always pleasant, so if Kleo had granted him those gifts as well, he still had little motivation to devote himself to her.
But who did that leave him? He was a hero, which would recommend him to Aon, the sun. But the cult of Aon was loud and boastful, which didn't suit him. He was a hero because his skills in archery were unparalleled, and it seemed selfish of him to deny his aid to people being menaced by monsters. He could declare for Phasdas, the goddess of invention, since he had a knack for creating interesting devices and enjoyed it more than his other talents. But the cult of Phasdas tended to look down on beautiful people--Phasdas was notorious for her dislike of beauty, which she considered useless.
He felt no connection with Seela, the moon, or Osideon, the sea. He was actively repulsed by Zureus, who had appeared to him one morning in the form of a bull. At least, he assumed it was Zureus. Normal bulls did not siddle up to people to offer "the wildest ride of your life." He had declined politely as possible and had feared for weeks that Zureus would enact some revenge, although it never came to pass. Needless to say, he wasn't about to invite more of that into his life. His wife, Hada, was not likely to be inclined to receive the worship of a mortal who had caught her husband's eye, however briefly.
In short, none of the gods called to him. Nonetheless, he had to decide, and time was running out.
On the day the first crocus bloomed every spring, the gods convened on Mount Titeus to observe the dedication ceremonies of the mortals, in which those who had come of age that year pledged themselves to a particular god. Hadeus did not plan to be there. It wasn't as if any mortals ever declared themselves for him, and so there was little reason for him to attend.
At least, that was his opinion, but his brother, Zureus, king of the gods, apparently felt differently. He turned the invitation over in his hands, scanning the wording, looking for an excuse to get out of it.
Hebris, the messenger of the gods, tapped his winged foot impatiently. "Well? What's your answer? I have other invitations to deliver, you know."
"My brother surely knows that death cannot take a day off."
"You are the keeper of the dead. Your son is the reaper. I'm fairly certain the dead can keep themselves for a day, and trust me, no one wants your creepy son around the festivities. If you know what's good for you, you'll give me a message conveying how thrilled you are to attend. Come on, Uncle--it'll be fun."
Hadeus's lips thinned. "I doubt that."
Hebris shrugged. "Then turn it down. I don't care either way. In fact, it might be entertaining to see what Zures does if you do."
Hadeus suppressed a scowl. He was fairly certain he could take his brother in a fight--but probably not the entire pantheon. It wasn't as if he could die, but it was sure to make his existence miserable and keep him from his duties, besides. "You may tell my brother that I will attend."
"Glad to hear it." He saluted. "See you there." In a flash, he was gone.
As soon as the gates of the palace shut, Hadeus tore the invitation in two and dropped the pieces, which fluttered to the ground. Zil, his imp, darted out from Hadeus's shadow where it had been hiding when Hebis arrived, and chewed up the scraps. Zil was an amorphous creatures who could change its shape and size at will, but mostly it existed as a small, black creature that looked like something between a cat and a dog.
Hadeus sighed and rubbed his face. Zil zipped into the shadows again and reappeared on Hadeus's shoulder, butting its head against his cheek.
Hadeus rubbed its chin. "It will be up to you to guard the realm while I'm gone. Do you think you can handle it?"
Zil chirped its affirmation.
Hadeus gave it another scratch before picking it up and setting it down by his feet. "Go on, then. I have to prepare."
Zil disappeared into the shadow. Hadeus glided through the palace to his bedroom. Some might consider his palace gloomy--indeed, that was the intention. He did not care to make his realm appealing to his meddlesome family. However, he personally found the shades of icy blue to be soothing, not depressing. Everything was orderly and cool, symmetrical as a snowflake, as peaceful as a frozen pond on a winter's day. So much better than the oppressive brightness of Mount Titeus. Much quieter, too.
Once in his bedroom, he conjured a mirror and studied himself. The dark robes he usually wore were perfectly serviceable, but he knew there would be no end of teasing if he showed up in such plain attire. With a snap of his fingers, the robes morphed into a blue toga. He added a cloak in a darker shade of blue, pinned at the shoulder.
He gave himself another look. His clothes were less dour now, but there was nothing that would make his long, thin face any cheerier. Not that he desired it. He would not shorten his long, dark hair, nor would he shave his beard, the way some of the younger gods did to embody the ideal of youth. Hadeus had no desire to appear either young or old. He was a god. He was eternal. And he looked it.
He snapped his fingers again, and the toga vanished, replaced by his customary robes again. The ceremony wasn't until tomorrow, so he had some time before he had to brave the mountain. He could really use a glass of wine.
As was often the case when he had a need, Zil appeared, a glass of wine balance on a tray on its head. He picked it up and sat down in his favorite chair by the window. Zil curled up in his lap. He patted the imp absently as he gazed out at the realm of the dead, the place he called home. The sky was always dark, but a blue glow that emanated from the ground kept it from complete blackness. There was no day and no night in the realm of the dead. The fields outside his palace were covered in white poppies--the flowers of the dead. It gave him pleasure to gaze upon them, although it was not without a tinge of melancholy. Mortals placed these flowers on the graves of their loved ones, in hopes that the god of the dead would take pity on them.
What they didn't know was that there was no need to bribe him. He had pity for every mortal that came to his realm. Unlike his family, who demanded sacrifices and pledges from their followers, he had no desire for such things. This was why the dedication ceremony each year rankled him. What need had his family for adulation and sacrifices from beings whose lives were no more than a brief flicker of light? Didn't they have enough?
Besides, all mortals gave him their lives, eventually. He couldn't ask for more than that.
***
Hadeus squinted as he reached the gates at the top of Mount Titeus. The sun was so bright up here--naturally, since Aon, his brother who controlled the sun, liked to keep an eye on its progress. Once upon a time, he personally drove the chariot across the sky each day. But then Phasdas, the goddess of invention, had mechanized his duties for him, and now he spent most of his time in pursuit of pleasure, as they all did.
He was greeted at the gate by the giant sentries, who let him in with no more than a cursory look. They were not really necessary, as any mortal who passed through the gates would be instantly vaporized, but they did look rather impressive, and looks were important to his family.
As much as he was loathe to admit it, Mount Titeus was nothing less than paradise. Fantastic trees and flowers lined the golden road to the heart of the city of the gods. The rules that applied on earth did not apply here, and so the plants came in every shade of the rainbow instead of the usual green, and even changed colors depending on the mood of anyone around. They shifted to a cool blue as he walked.
In the distance, he could make out the palaces of the gods. There were six--one for each of the original gods, save him. Each reflected the domain and temperament of its master. Aon's palace, made entirely of gold, was perched on clouds high above the land. Seela, goddess of the moon, had her cloud palace at the opposite end of the mountain--it was a cool silver, and shifted in and out of view depending on her mood. Redia's home reflected her position as the goddess of the earth--it was nestled into the side of a hill and surrounded by trees and flowers. Zureus and Hada, king and queen of the gods, had twin palaces right in the heart of the city, each towering and mighty, although Hada's was more tasteful while Zureus's was ostentatious. Osideon, the god of the ocean, spent most of the time in his palace in the sea on earth, but he kept a residence here too, on the shores of the Shining Sea.
Only Hadeus did not have a palace here. He did, once, but gave it up when his annoyance with his family became too great. Zureus made occasional comments that he was welcome to return, and even came close to ordering it. Why, Hadeus couldn't say. When he did reside on the mountain, his siblings complained about how he was a stick in the mud.
He reached the city, where all of the lesser gods and demigods made their home. Their houses, while not as grand as the palaces, were still far nicer than any mortal dwelling. Many also had homes in the Endless Fields, or by the Shining Sea, or in any of the infinite places of beauty on Mount Titeus. It had grown awfully crowded, as far as Hadeus was concerned. Yet another reason to stay away.
And it was quite crowded today, in the central square at the steps of Zureus' and Hada's palaces. Mount Titeus was the home of not only the gods and goddesses, but a host of otherworldly creatures: demigods, nymph, dyriads, satyrs, centaurs, and giants, to name a few. The dedication ceremony was an event like no other at Mount Titeus. The mortal realm may be wretched, but it was a great deal more exciting than paradise.
A cup of wine was pressed into his hand by a passing nymph, who giggled and scampered off, turning back a couple of times to see if he would chase her and seeming disappointed when he didn't. He sighed. This was going to be a trying day. He downed his glass.
"Brother!"
He looked up to see Seela gliding toward him, her white hair flowing behind her in shining waves. She smiled upon reaching him and kissed his cheek. "It's been too long--a century, at least."
He returned her kiss. "Surely not that long."
"Oh, at least that long, I'm certain. It's good to see you."
"And you. You look well."
"More than well, I hope!" She gestured to a comb in her hair. "Look what I'm wearing."
"It's lovely," he said, without giving it much of a look.
"Don't you recognize it? It's the comb you gave me!"
Hadeus regarded it again. "So it is. I'm pleased you like it."
"Of course I do! You are the only god with any taste. You should see the gifts Aon keeps flinging at me. So garish. He is such an ass. And Osideon--I tire of him as well. Not that he's noticed, with all his naiad floozies." She threaded her arm through his and batted her eyelashes. "But now you're here! You should come to my palace after the ceremony. We could have a lovely time, just you and me."
And so it began. Hadeus was the only god who had never graced her bed. Hadeus wasn't sure if she truly desired him or if she hoped to be able to claim she'd had them all. Either way, Hadeus was not interested.
He extracted himself from her grasp. "I would gladly be a guest in your home, but not in your bed."
She pouted. "Don't you find me beautiful?"
"There is none as lovely as you."
"Do you really think so? Not even Kleo?"
Kleo was her daughter, the goddess of beauty. One would think there would be at least some tenderness between them, but they hated each other almost since the moment of her birth. It didn't help that they'd roped some poor mortal into judging who was the most beautiful, and the mortal had picked Kleo. That particular mortal had been more than happy to enter Hadeus's kingdom after the torments Seela put him through. "She can't hold a candle to you."
Seela patted her hair, pleased. "Then why won't you come to bed with me? Just for one night?"
"You know why."
"Still on about that mortal, are you? What was name again?"
"Dyion," he said quietly.
"It's been a millennium. Surely you have mourned long enough."
"I am serious about my vows."
"I know, I know." She sighed. "You have the best taste, and you are the most romantic."
"And it would not be very romantic of me if I discarded my vow to Dyion."
"I suppose not." She kissed his cheek again. "I'm serious about my invitation. I promise I won't molest you."
He inclined his head. "Then I will see you then."
She turned to leave, but stopped. "Oh, and if you see Aon, do not tell him that you saw me. But if you see Osideon, tell him I invited you to be my guest, and that I was wearing your comb in my hair. Mention how good I looked."
When she was gone, Hadeus braved the crowd in an attempt to find another wine bearing nymph, but was unsuccessful. Instead, he found Aon. Or rather, Aon found him. Hadeus did his best to escape him, but had no such luck.
"Brother!" Aon said, clapping him on the shoulder. "How the hell are you?"
Hadeus gritted his teeth. "I am well."
"You don't look it. Every time I see you, I am awestruck by how pale you are. And not pale in the way Seela is pale--you know, that beautiful luminescence. Your skin is like the belly of a fish."
Hadeus had no response to that. Fortunately, Aon never seemed to expect a response to his proclamations. True to form, he barreled on. "It's looking like a good crop of mortals this year. I'm expecting at least a thousand new pledges. Nothing like that rush of new devotees, eh? Oh wait, that's right--no one ever declares for you."
Hadeus opened his mouth to reply, but Aon didn't give him a chance.
"Sorry, that was rude of me, wasn't it? But it is true, after all. Do you know Seela had the nerve to say I was an ass? Now that's rude, especially since it isn't true. I am the god of the sun! How can the god of the sun be an ass? Impossible! I'd like to see an ass be the light of the world. Ha! Can you imagine? Just a big donkey head in the middle of the sky? How absurd. Anyway, if you made more of an effort, I'm sure you could get a least a few devotees. You are pale and odd, but you do have a sense of mystery you could play up. I mean, I can't imagine what kind of mortal would want to spend his life devoted to death, but there are some real loons down there, just some truly bizarre people--you'd be surprised." He stopped to take a breath. "Say, have you seen Seela around? Osideon found this ring I gave her in one of his oceans. That's the third time she's dropped it--she ought to be more careful."
Hadeus waited a beat to make sure he was finished. "No, I have not seen her."
"Huh. That's strange. I heard she was excited about seeing you. Maybe she changed her mind." He clapped him on the back again. "Well, it was nice catching up. See you around!"
Hadeus definitely needed another drink before he met another one of his siblings. He caught Osideon out of the corner of his eye. Fortunately, his focus was on the two naiads in his lap.
"More wine?" said a voice from behind him.
He turned and saw a stunningly beautiful young man, with dark curls the color of midnight and cheekbones as chiseled as the finest statue. He had the glow of a god about him, although Hadeus had never seen him before. One of Zureus's mortal converts, no doubt. Each of the seven original gods had the ability to grant godhood to mortals they deemed worthy, although Hadeus had relinquished that power long ago. Zureus had made it a rule that only the most worthy mortals should be granted godhood and lectured his siblings about carelessly letting just anyone into Mount Titeus. His point was undercut by how often he gifted immortality to mortals whose only great achievement was being sexy. He always came up with some justification. Hadeus didn't know who he was trying to fool. Certainly not his wife, Hada.
Hadeus held out his cup. "Please."
A bottle appeared out of thin air. The young man took hold of it and filled Hadeus's cup. "You're Hadeus, aren't you? Lord of the dead?"
"That I am."
"You're the only one of the big seven I haven't met yet. Nice to meet you."
"You as well. What's your name?"
Before the young man had a chance to reply, a booming voice sounded from across the square. "Is that Hadeus I see?"
The crowd parted, allowing Zureus to make his way through. Hada followed him, a scowl on her face. Zureus laughed and pulled him into a bear hug. "You old devil!" he said, pulling back. He thumped him on the back several times. "You made it after all!"
"How could I refuse?" he said dryly.
Hada smirked, but Zureus didn't seem to notice his tone. "I see you've met Dixon! A most worthy mortal--he has only just achieved godhood."
Hada rolled her eyes. "Most worthy, indeed. Go on, boy. Tell Hadeus all about your 'great feats'."
Dixon looked down. "It's nothing," he mumbled.
"No need to be modest!" Zureus said. "Here, I'll tell the story. There I was in the mortal realm--in disguise, of course, just visiting as I am wont to do on occasion. I like to keep abreast of the mortal realm. Anyway, so I got to an inn and asked for some wine. But time and again, the mortals serving spilled it! All over me, staining my tunic. And this brought to mind a problem we've had on Titeus for ages--wine just being spilled everywhere. It was chaos. But then, this young man came, and he poured me a glass--and guess what? Not a single drop was spilled! And so I asked him for another glass, and again, not one drop went to waste! And so I decided to test him.
"The next time he came around, I tripped him. Still, he did not spill. I moved my cup out of the way--and he didn't miss a drop! I put him through quite a night, and never once did he err. That's when I knew we needed him up here. And so I made him Dixon, cup bearer to the gods." He nudged Dixon. "Go on, boy! Show him what you can do!"
Dixon's cheeks were bright red. "I already poured him some."
"Well, then, he's seen your skill!" He turned back to Hadeus. "Weren't you amazed?"
"I was astonished."
"There! You see, Hada? He agrees with me! And look, your cup is empty. Just give him a chance."
Hada held out her cup. Dixon hesitated. Hadeus didn't blame him--the look she was giving him would strike fear into the hearts of the greatest heroes. The wine bottle appeared again. Dixon poured. His hand was remarkably steady.
When her glass was full, Hada threw it on Zureus's toga. "Oops," she said. "Guess we're not safe from spills, after all. Maybe you need to appoint a god of stain removal." She dropped the cup and left.
They all watched her leave. Zureus chuckled and patted Dixon on the back. "Don't worry, she'll get used to you. She always does." He patted him again, a little lower this time. "Keep up the good work."
He put a hand on Hadeus's shoulder and walked him a few steps away. "There's something I want to talk to you about," he said in what passed as a lowered voice for him. "Well, not just me. It's all of your siblings. We have a matter to discuss with you, but not in front of the others. Will you meet with us?"
That sounded ominous, but Hadeus merely inclined his head. "As you wish."
"Good. In the meantime, enjoy yourself! Let Dixon show you a good time--cups aren't the only thing he can bear, if you catch my drift." He elbowed him lightly in the ribs and waggled his eyebrows.
"I'll keep it in mind."
Dixon approached him again after Zureus had left. "Do you think it's true? That Hada will get used to me?"
"Anything is possible," Hadeus said carefully.
Dixon kicked the ground moodily. "I'll take that as a no."
"She will definitely notice you less, over time," Hadeus said.
"Just as Zureus will, I'm sure." He crossed his arms and looked around. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but godhood is not what I imagined it would be. I suppose it's nice that I'll never die--" He stopped. "I'm sorry, is that offensive to you? What with you being lord of the dead and all."
"You have not offended me."
Dixon looked relieved. "It seems like every time I open my mouth, I'm offending someone. And there's nothing to do, especially since Zureus seems to have lost interest in me already."
"His attention does tend to wander."
"So I noticed. Do you know that he promised he would love me forever?" He sniffed. "I've only been here six months, and already he's tried to pawn me off on you!" He stopped. "No offense again."
"None taken."
They lapsed into silence. "So," Dixon said eventually. "Do you want to fuck?"
"No, thank you."
Dixon shrugged. "Suit yourself." He wandered off.
The great fountain in the center of the square began to glow, and everyone murmured with excitement. It was through its magical waters that they would be able to watch the ceremonies on earth. They would begin soon.
He thought he had escaped another awkward conversation with a family member, but alas, no such luck.
"Yoo-hoo! Uncle Hadeus!" called a girlish voice.
It had been a century at least, but there was no forgetting that voice--Kleo, goddess of beauty. Briefly, he considered pretending he hadn't noticed her, but they had already made eye contact. She was standing by the fountain. She smiled broadly when their eyes met, and gestured for him to come over.
He would rather not, but just about everyone on Mount Titeus would be annoying in some way or another, so with an inward sigh, he made his way to her side.
Kleo threw her arms around him and put a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Uncle! How are you?"
"I am well," he mumbled as he untangled himself from her embrace. "And you?"
"Fabulous, as always." She smiled at him again. Truth be told, he thought Kleo outshone her mother. Seela was unreal in her loveliness--there was something eerie about her silver skin and white hair. But Kleo's beauty was all natural. Flowers bloomed in her dark hair, and in her eyes were all the greens and browns of the forest. She favored the dark complexion of her father, Osideon, and her beauty had the lure of the sea--it pulled you in, whether you wanted it to or not. "I'm so happy to see you."
Hadeus eyed her warily. "Why?"
She laughed and put her hand on his arm. "A girl can't be happy to see her own uncle, after so many years?"
"And why would you want to see me?"
"It gets boring here in paradise--always the same faces. Well, I suppose not always, with Zureus's various conquests arriving here and there, but most of them are terribly dull."
"I assure you, you will find me equally dull."
She laughed. "Oh no, Uncle. You are very mysterious. And I like mysteries--there are so few of them left."
The glow from the water grew stronger. Kleo giggled. "Oh, it's too exciting! I know it happens every year, but I'm always delighted. There are many mortals who have made their intentions clear already--by the end of the day, I'm sure to have a whole new crop. In fact, I'm certain to have the most, which means I'll win the betting pool, too. I am going to have so many favors owed to me!"
"Congratulations."
Kleo eyed him. "Worship is wonderful feeling, you know--a rush like no other, with so many mortals devoted to you, singing your praises, sacrificing to you... You really ought to try it."
"It's not really up to me, is it? The mortals must choose."
"I suppose, but you do need to put in a little effort. A little miracle here, an answered prayer there. It doesn't take much. They're so wretched, the poor things--even the smallest divine touch in their lives means so much."
"I don't think many mortals want the touch of death in their lives."
"Well, when you put it that way, no, but whose to say that death is your only dominion?"
Hadeus blinked. "I am the god of death. That has been my dominion since time began. So it is, and so it shall ever be. Are you suggesting that I just give up and take on something else?"
"No, of course not! But you can safely claim related dominions. For example, I inspire people, so I am the goddess of inspiration. I also get in on the love action--I know Amara is furious about that, but it is often from beauty that love is born, so I think it's fair. I've also branched out into..." She held up her hand and counted off on her fingers. "...pleasure, procreation, fashion, dancing, and gardening."
"Gardening?"
"Yes--flowers, in particular. I love flowers." She thrust out her chest and pointed to a flower pinned on her toga. "See? This is a particularly rare bloom, found only on the cliffs of Torini. A devotee of mine got it for me. Wasn't that sweet?"
"And died doing it," Hadeus said.
She gasped. "How did you know that?" Hadeus just looked at her. She put a hand in front of her mouth and giggled. "Oh, of course. Silly me. Well, they all die eventually. I made sure to heap many blessings on his family."
"Why didn't you just go get it yourself?"
"Me, climb the cliffs of Torini? Don't be stupid--the winds would dry out my complexion." She waved a hand dismissively. "But enough about me--let's focus on you."
Hadeus crossed his arms. "And what dominions related to death do you think would attract mortals?"
She opened her mouth to reply, and then shut it again. Her perfectly sculpted brows furrowed as she rubbed her chin. Hadeus hoped that would be the end of it, but after a few moments, she snapped her fingers. "Gold!"
Now it was Hadeus's turn to be baffled. "Gold? Why gold?"
"Not just gold--all precious metals. Jewels, too."
"And how do you figure that?"
"You're god of the underworld, aren't you? That's underground, which is also where you find gold and jewels! Mortals can't get enough of that stuff. You might even gain as many devotees as me!" She stopped and rubbed her chin again. "But jewels are very beautiful, wouldn't you say? I think that I could also fairly be the goddess of jewels. Something to think about for next year, at any rate. I'll leave gold to you, though."
"That won't be necessary. I do not desire worship."
She scoffed. "Of course you do. You may not think you do, but you do."
Irritation surged in him. He knew he shouldn't let her get to him--he found the rest of his family easier to brush off, but not Kleo. Perhaps she was also the goddess of getting under people's skin. "You presume to tell me what I desire?"
"Naturally. I am the goddess of desire, after all. Did I mention that one? Anyway, I can definitely tell when people desire something, and you, dear uncle, desire worship."
"Oh, really? And how, pray tell, do you know that?"
"You're miserable, clearly."
"I am not miserable."
"Oh yeah? When was the last time you smiled?"
"I don't recall," he grumbled. "And what does it matter? Duty is its own reward--a lesson the rest of you lot could stand to learn!"
Kleo rolled her eyes. "And here comes the lecture. You are a real miserable bastard, you know that? Seriously, you should smile more--it would do you good."
He sputtered. "Smile more?" he said, losing his temper at last. "Smile more? And what is there to smile about, hmm? While the rest of you live in the clouds, I alone see the world for what it truly is. I keep its sorrows, so that all the rest of you can continue your selfish decadence. So no, I do not need to smile more. You all need to smile less!"
Kleo crossed her arms and turned away from him with a huff. Hadeus thought that it was the end of their conversation, but just as he was about to leave, she spoke up again. "I bet I can make you smile. I am very good at coaxing smiles from even the hardest hearts."
Hadeus scoffed. "Spare me your superficial tricks. They might work on mortals, but not on me."
She batted her eyelashes. "Sweetheart, you don't know even a tenth of what I'm capable of. And besides, if you're so sure that you can resist my 'tricks,' then this should be an easy bet for you to win. I'll even put a limit on it--I have six months to make you smile. If you don't, then I lose."
He knew he should let it go, but a victory over Kleo was tempting. "And what do I get if I win?"
"What do you want?"
Hadeus thought about it. "I want you to cease your illusions to the mortals for ten years. No more hiding evil behind a pretty facade. You show them things the way they are."
"Done. And if I win, I want Dyion's bloom."
Hadeus blinked. "Dyion's bloom? Why?"
She shrugged. "I told you--I'm into gardening now. And Dyion's bloom is the most legendary flower in existence--the first flower, born of the death of the first mortal. I've always thought it was a shame that it's kept in some miserable old cave in the underworld where no one can appreciate it."
"The cave isn't miserable. I keep it well maintained." And it's more appreciated than you can imagine, he almost added but thought better of it.
"So we have a deal, then?" She held out her hand.
Hadeus hesitated. To lose Dyion's bloom would be a great loss. On the other hand, he had gone centuries without smiling, so it seemed unlikely that she would be able to win. And having the evils of the world no longer masked by Kleo's deceptions would no doubt add years to some mortal lives.
He took her hand. "Deal."
Kleo gave him a dazzling smile. "Don't worry--I will take good care of your flower. You can come see it whenever you like. And you'll feel so much better when you smile. My victory will be a win for us both!"
Hadeus was saved from having to respond by another burst of light from the fountain.
Kleo clapped her hands and cooed with excitement. "It's starting!"
All of the gods gathered around the fountain--it was large enough that everyone had a good view of the happenings. The ceremonies for devotion took place in dozens of cities, but gods were good at splitting their attention. Hebris kept a tally of how many new devotees each god received. There were cheers from gods doing well, and sulks from gods whose numbers weren't what they had hoped.
As expected, Hadeus found it tiresome, and his mind started to wander. He was brought back to attention when the crowd suddenly went quiet. All of their collective attention turned to the city of Syntos.
Hadeus frowned. "What's happening?"
"Prosoper is about to declare his devotion," Kleo said.
"Who?"
"Only the most interesting mortal to come about in ages."
"What makes him so interesting?"
"Where to start? He started to play music at age four, and is a master of just about every musical instrument. He's also a poet, having composed some of the most magnificent poems the world has ever heard. Not only that, but he's an artist--he's sculpted statues so realistic that Zureus himself tried to, ahem, seduce one. As if that weren't enough, he's an athlete as well, excelling in archery and racing. And look at him," she gestured to the water. "He's gorgeous!"
Hadeus peered into the water at the boy. He was indeed beautiful, with bronzed skin and golden curls, neither burly nor delicate in build but somewhere in the middle. His expression was serene as he approached the altar, in spite of the fact that the mortals' attention on him was just as great as the gods was.
"Well?" Kleo said. "Don't you agree that he is beautiful?"
"I suppose he is."
"And he's humble about it, too. I've been to visit him three times in various disguises, trying to get him to admit that he thinks he's more beautiful than I. He never waivers. Which is why I know that he will be declaring for me today."
"Bullshit!"
Kleo and Hadeus looked up to see Phasdas, the burly goddess of invention, staring at them.
"The boy is mine," she continued. "He's come up with more inventions than I've seen of any mortal, and he's only twenty-two years old! His mind will get better the older he gets. Not so for his looks, so why would he declare for you?"
"Too true!" said Idara, goddess of song. "But cousin, while his inventions are indeed ingenious, he only invents to make his life more convenient. His true passion is for his music, and it is through music that he will secure his legacy. With my aide, he will compose songs that will be sung by his children's children's children, and beyond."
Aon inserted himself into the conversation. "You're all wrong," he said, preening. "The boy knows that in order to accomplish the things he wants, he needs to be in peak physical condition. As the god of the sun and the giver of life, I am the one he will pledge to. Why would he bother with you second generation gods anyway, when he can pledge to one of the original pantheon?"
An argument broke out at that point, with many other gods and goddesses making their own cases for why Prosoper would pledge to them. Kleo tugged on Hadeus's arm and lowered her voice. "They're all wrong. He's going to declare for me for sure."
"And how can you be so certain?"
"Because his family has declared for me for generations. And his father made a substantial sacrifice to me in exchange for a perfect child. Which I delivered, obviously. And believe me, it was not easy. I had to ignore a lot of other prayers to make it happen." She smirked. "His father promised him to me--I paid him a little visit just last week to make sure. He will declare for me, and then he will write me songs and poems, and make statues of me, and beget a whole litter of gorgeous babies who will do the same for generations more to come."
Before Hadeus could respond, Aon shushed everyone. "Shut up, everyone! He's started!"
They all peered into the pool as he began to speak. "My name is Prosoper, and before I pledge myself to one god, I offer this prayer to them all." He bowed his head and seemed to gather himself.
Hada nodded in approval. "He's so respectful. Maybe he'll declare for me."
Zureus, Aon, and Osideon burst out laughing. "You?" Zureus managed to choke out.
She clenched her fists. "Well, a nice boy like that certainly won't declare for any of you pigs!"
Redia, the goddess of the earth and self-appointed peace-keeper, spoke up. "Please, brothers and sisters--this is a sacred occasion. Let us make peace and--"
"--shut the fuck up so we can hear him?" Seela finished for her. "Well said, sister--I agree!"
Redia stiffened. "That isn't what I--"
She was shushed by the rest of them as Prosoper began to speak:
"The gods are not so easy to please
Though we mortals may try
We are but clumsy children, and they
Are masters of the sky
The light of my life is nothing to Aon's sun
My song in the night is nothing to Seela's moon
And what ship could I build to sail on Osideon's seas
That he could not dash to pieces if it so pleased him?
To Zureus, I could offer my beauty
But it pales in comparison to Hada
And Redia, she who keeps the whole earth
What use would she have of a speck like me?
If I offered myself to Kleo, surely she would turn in disgust at my ugliness
If I offered myself to Phasdas, surely she would scorn my stupidity
And Idara would surely hold her hands to her ears rather than listen to my screeching
No, the gods are not so easy to please
Save one
Who asks for nothing
For he embraces each mortal, in the end.
And so I pledge myself to Hadeus
Hadeus, my life is now yours
I only ask that I may borrow it for some time
Until you call me home."
There was dead silence, both in the mortal realm and on Mount Titeus. Prosoper stood and quickly descended from the altar. As soon as he was gone, every being on Mount Titeus turned and looked at Hadeus.
Aon broke the silence. "You son of a bitch. How did you do it?"
"I did nothing!" he protested.
"Oh, come off it! You pulled some sort of trick!"
"I assure you, I am surprised as you are." And he was. He looked down at the mortal realm, trying to pick Prosoper out again, but he had vanished into the crowd. What was the boy thinking?
The rest of the gods broke out in argument. Hadeus turned to Kleo, who hadn't said a word. Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her hands were clenched in fists.
"I made no effort to sway him to me," Hadeus said. "This is all of his own doing."
She met his gaze. "I know," she said tightly. "Which makes this even more infuriating." She turned heel and stomped away.
The rest of the ceremonies went by in a blur. Hadeus turned it over and over in his mind, but couldn't find a single reason why such a promising young man would choose him, of all the gods, to devote his life to. Oh, there had been some, back in the early days, who devoted themselves to him out of the misguided belief that Hadeus would give them immortality if they worshiped him. He made his feelings on the subject quite clear, ensuring that there were very few who tried it.
But in his prayer, Prosoper had not seemed like he was trying to avoid death. In fact, he mentioned specifically that he expected to die some day. Was the boy suicidal? Again, that seemed unlikely, given that he did request to live for some time. It made no sense.
Eventually, the ceremonies ended. The lesser gods and other divine creatures dispersed, including Kleo, presumably, since she had avoided him for the rest of the ceremonies. The main pantheon retired to Zureus's palace. Hadeus stood there for an awkward moment, unsure of what to do.
Hebris approached him. "Zureus requests your presence."
***
Hadeus allowed Hebris to lead him into the palace. As king of the gods, Zureus did not go for subtlety with his palace's design. The ceilings were so high that it dwarfed even the gods, making Hadeus feel unexpectedly small. The walls were made of crystal, which caught the light and cast rainbows all around. There was a lot of light--so bright that he had to squint. He was not used to this brightness. It was almost painful.
His heart sank when he realized that Hebris was leading him to the throne room. Earlier, Zureus had made it sound like his request was informal, but a trip to the throne room meant that the subject was more serious, especially since the other gods had been summoned as well.
When he entered the room, the other gods were already settled on their thrones. He had a throne here too--he might not keep a palace on Mount Titeus, but he was still a god, after all. The thrones each reflected their god's domains. Zureus's was the largest, made of crystal and sparkling with every gem imaginable. Hada's was the same, but more elegant than bold. Seela's throne was silver and sleek, and Aon's was golden and garish. Redia's was made of wood, with blooming vines curling around it. Osideon's was made of coral and studded with pearls.
His own was made of obsidian--dark, but gleaming. The others watched him as he took his place. It had been at least a century since he'd sat on his throne. It was hard and uncomfortable.
Zureus cleared his throat. "It's so good of you to join us, Hadeus. I think I speak for us all when we say we have missed your presence here at Titeus."
The rest of them all nodded, and to their credit, they seemed sincere. And if Hadeus was honest with himself, he'd missed them too. They were infuriating, but they were his family.
However, he didn't miss them enough to want to move to Titeus. "It has been good to see you, too. However, I think it is imperative I remain in the Underworld. As god of the underworld--"
"Oh, we're not asking you to move here," Zureus interrupted. "We know you're happy down there. And we all want you to be happy, don't we?"
The others made enthusiastic sounds of agreement. From the way they were looking at him, they all wanted something, although Hadeus couldn't think of what. He felt a headache coming on. "If this is not about me moving back to Titeus, then may I ask what the purpose of this meeting is?"
Zureus cleared his throat again. "You know more about mortal lives than any of us. Wouldn't you say that's so?"
"I suppose."
"We are curious as to why they wear out so quickly."
Hadeus eyed him. "'Wear out?'"
"You know--decay. Become old, and die. There's a very short time when they're in the prime, so to speak. It's like one moment they're beautiful maidens and youths, and I blink and suddenly they're crones and geezers!" He rubbed the back of his neck. "And we were just wondering if there was something you could, you know, do about that."
"What do you mean?"
Zureus glanced at Hada before continuing. "There are so many mortals who are deserving of more time to enjoy youth, but it's been brought to my attention that making these people gods and bringing them to Titeus is not the best method of granting that extended life. So we thought maybe you could prolong their lives a bit longer."
Hadeus stared at him. "Don't you think if it were within my power to give them more time that I would have done so already?"
"I don't know. Is it something you think would be hard? Because I'm not talking about everyone--just worthy mortals."
Hadeus was stunned into silence. Of all the stupid, selfish... He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before answering. "Perhaps you do not remember, but the mortals were made specifically by our mother, Ionea, in revenge for you tearing all of us out of her womb, throwing our father into the sky, and using her body to create the world."
Zureus rubbed his chin. "She was rather put out by that, wasn't she? But it's not like she gave us much choice."
Aon spoke up. "I remember when she made the mortals. But why would you think she did so out of revenge?"
"Because she said so, specifically. She was cackling as she did so."
Seela spoke next. "I remember--she's so dramatic, and a tad insane. Why would making them die hurt us?"
"Because she assumed that we would fall in love with the mortals, and then be heartbroken when they died. She cursed us with unending grief."
Osideon snorted. "Joke's on her--it didn't work."
Hadeus's eyes stung. "Yes," he spat as fury spread through him. "It was a wasted effort, clearly."
Redia looked at him kindly. "I remember. We are all very grateful that you opened the underworld to take in their souls."
Seela nodded. "Oh yes. Very grateful! All those ghosts wandering around was ghastly!"
"Yes, indeed," Zureus said. "In fact, I think Hadeus deserves a round of applause!"
They all clapped while Hadeus glowered at them. If Zureus thought that was supposed to placate him, he was sorely mistaken. "I did it for their sake, not yours! And no, I cannot extend their lives. Their mortality is a key component of their nature--to change them would make them monstrous. The balance of life is very delicate. Interfering with that natural order would throw all of creation into chaos, and I'm certainly not about to attempt it just so that you can enjoy them longer. It is monstrously selfish for you to ask that!"
Zureus sniffed. "Here, now. There's no need to be unpleasant. I was only asking."
"And it's bullshit," Aon interjected. "You bring people back sometimes. I've seen you do it."
"Only very rarely. The circumstances have to be exceptional. And even then, I can only manage it once per person. Any more than that, and things start to go wrong." He crossed his arms to his chest. "I learned that the hard way," he added softly.
Hada smirked. "I told you so," she said to Zureus. "You know, the easiest solution is for you to stop screwing mortals. It's not like there's nothing for you to fuck here on Mount Titeus."
Zureus chuckled uncomfortably. "That's not what this was about! I was inquiring for the sake of the mortals--"
Hadeus and Hada scoffed in unison.
Zureus heaved a sigh. "Well, I thought it couldn't hurt to ask."
Hadeus stood. "If that's all, then I will take my leave."
Zureus waved a hand. "Yes, yes, fine."
The other gods got up as well and mingled amongst themselves. Hadeus made to leave, but Seela intercepted him. "Oh dear, you're very offended, aren't you? Zureus is such a pig. I told him it was a bad idea." She looked over her shoulder in the direction of Osideon and waited until he was looking to put her hand on his arm. "Please, allow me to soothe you back at my palace."
Hadeus removed her hand. "I am no longer in the mood."
She pouted. "You're no fun." With that, she flounced off.
Hadeus left after that, the flowers in his path turning bright red in his wake. It had been a mistake to leave the underworld -- a mistake he wouldn't make again. But first, he would visit the one goddess he respected -- one who had skipped the ceremony, for she too shunned the worship of mortals and the company of gods. Certia, goddess of truth. It would be good to see her.
CHAPTER TWO
Prosoper rode a donkey back to the city of Syntos. The king of [land] had offered his finest stallion in thanks to Prosoper for slaying the harpy that had been terrorizing the countryside, but Prosoper had requested the donkey instead. It was impossible for Prosoper to turn down the gold he'd been awarded, or the the feast that had been held in his honor. Most people couldn't handle a selfless hero. It made them feel indebted, or else suspicious of his motives. And so he always made sure to accept the offerings that were his due, and to smile and eat what was offered, and then to leave the minute he could.
But he managed to convince the king that a magnificent steed would attract too much attention. The king had laughed and said he was certain no one would dare attack the great Prosoper, so what did it matter? But he did give in eventually.
Prosoper liked the donkey, who was called Clover. He was sweet tempered, and not as excitable as a fancy steed.
When the city came into view, he dismounted and went ahead of Clover, leading him down the road. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. Hopefully, he would not be recognized right away. It was inevitable once he reached his parent's home--they were sure to make a big to-do about their hero son returning home. But until then, he hoped to enjoy a little peace.
If it were up to him, he would not have returned to Syntos at all. But he was twenty-five now, and the time had come for him to declare for a god or goddess, to ask for their blessings in exchange for his devotion. He couldn't very well get out of it--sometimes it felt like the whole world was waiting to hear who the great Prosoper would declare for. He'd even overheard people making bets on it. Apparently, the odds favored Kleo, the goddess of beauty.
But the truth of the matter was that Prosoper still didn't know who he would devote himself to. There was a strong tradition of service to Kleo in his family. His father in particular was noted for his devotion to the goddess. He knew that he would be devastated if he chose a different deity.
But Prosoper didn't feel a connection with her at all. It was true that he was beautiful. His good looks were not something he took particular pride in, seeing that he had very little say in his appearance and did not find it as fascinating as others apparently did. It was hard to talk to people sometimes, with the way they gawked at him and commented on his beauty as if he were some lovely statue they had come across, and not a person attempting to have a conversation with them.
His father said that he should be grateful that Kleo had blessed him so. It didn't feel like a blessing. Not that he was stupid enough to express that out loud--the gods were always watching, always waiting for mortals to slip up and insult them and give them an excuse to extract elaborate revenge. It must be very boring up on Mount Titeus, if the gods were so in want of things to do that they spent all their time spying on people.
The presumption that he would declare for Kleo was not based on his looks alone, however. He was well-known as an artist--he painted, sculpted, and composed music and poetry. People raved about his art, although sometimes he thought they raved simply because it was a way to communicate to others their exquisite sense of taste. He'd tested it out once by making a sculpture of dung heap, which was immediately praised as a work of genius, with several people getting into a nasty bidding war over it.
He didn't create art for the accolades. He simply had very little choice in the matter, as was the case with his looks. Creation streamed from him--he could no more stop making art than he could stop breathing. It wasn't always pleasant, so if Kleo had granted him those gifts as well, he still had little motivation to devote himself to her.
But who did that leave him? He was a hero, which would recommend him to Aon, the sun. But the cult of Aon was loud and boastful, which didn't suit him. He was a hero because his skills in archery were unparalleled, and it seemed selfish of him to deny his aid to people being menaced by monsters. He could declare for Phasdas, the goddess of invention, since he had a knack for creating interesting devices and enjoyed it more than his other talents. But the cult of Phasdas tended to look down on beautiful people--Phasdas was notorious for her dislike of beauty, which she considered useless.
He felt no connection with Seela, the moon, or Osideon, the sea. He was actively repulsed by Zureus, who had appeared to him one morning in the form of a bull. At least, he assumed it was Zureus. Normal bulls did not siddle up to people to offer "the wildest ride of your life." He had declined politely as possible and had feared for weeks that Zureus would enact some revenge, although it never came to pass. Needless to say, he wasn't about to invite more of that into his life. His wife, Hada, was not likely to be inclined to receive the worship of a mortal who had caught her husband's eye, however briefly.
In short, none of the gods called to him. Nonetheless, he had to decide, and time was running out.