Erebus said nothing, neither moving towards her nor shying away. It was the consistency in him that had always drawn her to the darkness, and the fact that he was the only being in existence who had never had a glimmer of fear when he looked upon her at full power. In fact, it was the opposite. He helped her power sing. The existence of the darkness was there to amplify the night; the eroding of their relationship felt like a phantom limb.
“You were looking for me,” Nyx said quietly, but her words cut through the grass. Erebus couldn’t help but notice that she had resigned herself to only speaking to him out loud. The mental connection that they had shared was cut off.
“I was.” He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “I heard that Hermes was here, and I knew that would make you uncomfortable—”
“Thegodsdo not make meuncomfortable,Erebus,” Nyx snapped, turning to face him head-on. She welcomed the rush of anger that came over, letting it consume her sadness. It was so, so much easier to be angry. Erebus fought the urge to call her out, but he resigned and held up his hands in surrender.
“Noted. I heard that Hermes was here, and I wanted to know what he had to say.”
“As if you don’t know.” Nyx’s lips thinned out into a grim line. She had a suspicion that he was speaking to all the gods.
“I don’t.” Erebus sighed again and tried his best to remain patient. He knew that her walls were up and getting indignant would solve nothing.
“Zeus has formally declared war against Kronos. He is demanding that all the gods and titans pick a side. Hopefully, his side.” Nyx watched Erebus’s expression, which did seem—to his credit—shocked.
“I was unsure if he would ever do it.” Erebus looked off into the sky, searching for something as Nyx watched his mind race. He turned to her, taking a step closer as Nyx took a step back. “I’m sure that you answered for us?”
“I wouldn’t presume your answer, Erebus,” she snapped, and he struggled to keep a lid on his own temper.
“I still defer to you, Nýchta.” His voice was softer, quieter, as he let her name fall from his lips. Erebus let the rest of his own guard slip, his face turning over in an expression of soft wanting. He knew that his best attempt at getting through to her was to show vulnerability first…I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.His thoughts were full of longing. The silence stretched on between them, and Nyx’s expression was unreadable.
“I told him I would not be joining. I did not speak for you.” The subtle declaration that she had not taken a stand on behalf of both night and darkness was damning. Erebus was rocked with the revelation that they had become separate entities in her mind. He prayed that her heart had not yet suffered the same fate. Nyx spoke again.
“What happened? When Hera first attacked my acolytes, I wanted to put the gods in their place. You wanted to wait. What… What’s changed?” Her voice cracked.
“I did wait.” Erebus sighed, attempting another step towards Nyx. “I waited five hundred years. I am tired of their squabbles now; they need to end. The humans no longer have respect for us. Now, our best plan is to join the gods and accept their help in restoring our reputations.” He paused and Nyx seemed unfazed. “What about you? You wanted respect. It was why you went after Hera.”
“Don’ttwist my words!” Nyx spun on Erebus, pointing at him and taking a few more steps in his direction. “My concern was for my women. Not buildings or altars or honor. I was content to let thatburn.I watched, too. I’ve come to see that thesearenothing but squabbles. You cry out for respect, Erebus, but I think you’re justbored.”
“Bored?!” Erebus roared back in return, and both dissipated immediately into their spaceless forms. Thunder and lightning rolled around in Elysium as crests of nightfall crashed against waves of darkness. The smoke and shadows of Nyx and Erebus werefightingeach other instead of coexisting.
“I am not bored, Nyx,” Erebus yelled again, the sound echoing off the boundaries of the Underworld. His voice immediately softened. “You still can’t recognize what it looks like when someone wants the best for you.”
The darkness evaporated, leaving a thin layer of dusk over Elysium, and Nyx came collapsing down into her mortal form like a tornado. As the shadows cleared, she lay in the field of narcissus and wept.
8
Nyx was still sitting in Elysium when she felt currents of power rolling through the ground. Erebus had left. It took all her willpower to shut it out and keep herself from going to him. She didn’t know how long she had been lying in the grass when the presence of other gods caused the dirt to tremble. The earth beneath her pulsed with it. Nyx knew that in the Underworld that meant one thing: Hades.
Hades had taken to the Underworld like Poseidon to the sea and Zeus to patricide. Nyx and Hades had a careful arrangement, one that was full of respect but carefully devoid of familiarity. There were particulars to his job that she did not want, and he knew that she was composed of something greater than him entirely. This amicable distance had suited them until she began to learn that he was going along with Zeus’s rumors that Tartarus was a place for the gravest of sinners. Nyx was content to continue to watch this play out among the weaker immortals but did not forget where Hades’s chips had fallen.
Nyx allowed herself to slip away into shadow as she felt gods approaching. While gods could always sense one another’s presence, her abilities as primordial were unmatched. It wasn’t long until Hades and Poseidon appeared together, walking in Elysium.
Poseidon looked—admittedly—like a fish out of water, looking around as if he was trying to gauge where the closest river was. He preferred a dark blue himation, draped over one shoulder, that appeared ready to be thrown off at a moment’s notice. His hair was perpetually curly with salt and seawater, the gray curls stuck to his temples as his beard looked permanently wet. His skin was tanned and red from the water, laugh lines and crow’s feet deeply set into his face. Poseidon had the potential to look incredibly kind or incredibly cruel based on the level of warmth he allowed to slip into his gray eyes. There were bands of silver around his wrists and ankles, inlayed with mother-of-pearl and bright coral, and he preferred walking barefoot. While she couldn’t see it, Nyx knew that his beloved trident was somewhere hidden on his person.
Nyx’s gaze shifted to Hades, who talked animatedly next to his brother. Hades was always dressed the same way, with a black chiton that went to his ankles and black leather sandals. He had secured a silver brooch at his shoulder—a new development—and Nyx eyed it cautiously, always wary of men and their trophies. He kept his beard much shorter than Poseidon’s, more of a permanent shadow across his jaw, and kept waves of black hair off his forehead with a leather band. Nyx knew by mortal standards, Hades was incredibly wealthy, controlling—governing—the Underworld and all its metals and gems. It was for that reason, he surprisingly never wore any, which until now had been a valuable merit in Nyx’s mind.
Both gods made striking figures as they stopped in the grass, and Nyx could see how the humans had started to fall to these gods. They were everything that humans were—they had mortal forms, flaws, hubris, and pride. Who would not want to look upon their deities and see themselves reflected? Nyx stopped, quieting her thoughts as she let her shadows slip closer to them. She listened.
“I don’t know why you have any doubts, Poseidon.” Hades shook his head, looking at his brother in a way that could only be described as challenging.
“Ha! Doubts! You misread caution for a character flaw.” Poseidon shrugged it off, flicking his hand through the air. “You’ve always been the impatient one.”
“Impatient one! Don’t confuse me for Zeus. I have nothing but time—death comes for everyone.”
“That’s Thanatos,” Poseidon corrected him, raising a brow. “Be careful that you aren’t the ones overstepping your bounds, not Zeus.”
One point for Poseidon then.Nyx’s thoughts strayed towards violence as she overheard Hades take claim to her son’s work.Hades would do well to remember that he merely governs here. He is not darkness or death, my husband and my son.
