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“My sister, Hera, was able to escape and find mother. All while my father hunted her down like an animal.”
“Holy shit,” Devon muttered as he ran a hand through his hair.
Such an understatement, she thought.
“When my mother followed Hera back home, she found us all dead, our mortal bodies lying exactly where our father struck us down. She took Hera and hid her, making deals with Titans and Gods alike. My sisters and I had been released from our mortal forms, our souls merged with the power deep inside each of us, and we became Goddesses in our own right. More powerful than we ever would have been had we lived and died naturally as mortals. My mother’s deal bound our souls to our power. We lived but no longer under the constraints of the mortal form. As souls.
“Hera survived in her mortal form, hidden away in the mountains we had been born in. When she came of age, we found her, those of us who could still hold on to the mortal realm and withstand the pull of the Underworld.”
Taking a deep breath, she continued, “We had no way of killing our father ourselves since we hadn’t understood our powers and our abilities to manipulate the mortal realm, so Hera offered to be our vessel. Together we banished our father, but the power we funneled through Hera, who held her own latent power inside her, was more than her mortal body could withstand. She died and became a Goddess just as the rest of us had.
“The Titans had no leader in my father anymore, so they split up. Some fell into the long sleep and others disappeared, perhaps to walk among mortals.
“That left the realms unguarded and the power unbalanced. In the void of my father’s banishment and the Titans’ abandonment, there was us. New Goddesses. Our raw power transformed to fill the vacuum. We were bestowed mantles, rule over the realms, and all the responsibilities that came with them. By then, only three of us had been able to bond to our latent powers and endured the half-life of souls on the mortal plane to become titled, empowered deities.” She paused, struck with grief again for her long-lost sisters, Demeter and Hestia. “Amphitrite became the Goddess of the seas. Hera, Goddess of the skies and Queen of Olympus. And me,” she spread her arms wide and let them fall to her sides, “Goddess of the dead and Queen of the Underworld.”
She then turned to fully face Devon. “He cannot be freed. If he were to walk the mortal realm again, he would bring what you call Hell on Earth. Pulling all of his Titans into a battle I am not sure we would win this time. He is dangerous, and my sisters and I have to keep him here at all costs.”
“Where is your mother?” He waved to the rocks with true confusion in his eyes. She was thankfully prepared for that question.
She looked up with the sadness she felt every time she glimpsed Tartarus from her palace. Watched Devon’s eyes go from confused to sympathetic, for which she was grateful. It was reassuring that he seemed to understand without her having to say it out-right, but she would tell him, nonetheless.
“The deals my mother made to protect us... we never knew the consequences of them. One of her bargains was that she would become mortal and remain as such until she died a mortal death.” She watched the questions roll across his face and answered before he could ask them. “I am thankful to her every day for doing what she could to help us, and my only relief is that she is in Elysium. Her death is as much at his hands as ours was.” Her tone grew cold, as it always did when she spoke directly about her father and his deeds. Even millennia later, she held darkness in her heart where her father’s love should have been. Her mother, Hestia, and Demeter all died mortal deaths, when they should have all lived through eternity alongside her. Persephone wondered again what her immortal life would have been like had sweet Demeter and steadfast Hestia been able to bond their souls with the godly powers their mother fettered upon their birth.
Turning away from Devon and Tartarus, she looked out to where the river of fire was active and alive, a perfect representation of her ire towards her father.
Silence fell over them again for too many heartbeats.
“Why did you tell me this?” Devon asked. “Why take me here?”
“You are a God, Devon,” she said, voice rasping as she turned to face him again. “A mortal- born God. On one hand, I don’t want you to feel… alone… even though my transformation was long ago.” She took a deep breath and nodded toward the entrance Tartarus. “On the other…” she considered her words, “I wanted to make sure you really understand now that you are a God.”
“Understand what?” Devon prompted.
“What the hunger for power can do to a God. And how the paths of Gods can end.”
Chapter 17
Sitting on a chair next to the window in his room, Devon looked out over the trees and the animals flitting in and out of the shadows. His mind was a whirl of information, none of it hitting home.
He was a God.
A God.
How does one respond to finding out they are not only immortal, but have some kind of power that can manipulate the actual world around them?
He was a God, but not only that, he was a God of the Underworld.
He laughed at the irony of him being a mercenary turned Underworld deity. It was unbelievable and he could only laugh at himself.
His laughter died when he thought back to Persephone’s revelation of her past. He could see her fear in speaking about it, not the fear of speaking of something he knew was difficult, but he could see she worried he would look at her differently. He supposed he did, but not in the way she most likely thought.
She was amazing. She had lived through something he wasn’t sure he could without his entire psyche fracturing. His heart hurt for her and her sisters, that someone who they loved and trusted to protect them did something so vile. He couldn’t help but imagine looking up into the eyes of your protector and feeling such betrayal.
A tear slipped down his cheek before he rubbed it away with the back of his hand. He may be having a difficult time understanding his new role and coming to terms with his own immortality, but he had Persephone beside him. She was helping him through this incredibly difficult transition.
Who helped her? Who held her hand when she lost her mortal body and became a powerful deity? One with an overwhelming amount of responsibility that she had to step into immediately at that. Looking out his window, he wondered at how she hadn’t lost her compassion. She gave him so much more than he deserved because she felt for him.
She may not show it outwardly, but he knew deep down she was a woman who cared. A lot. She would do anything for her sisters, her friends, her souls… for him.
