AllFreeNovel
Share Us
After Kronos, Hades moves on to the business of tending to the mortals killed by her march on Olympus. Natural disasters—fires, tsunamis, earthquakes—rattled the earth with her rage. The price of war is casualties, and her crown rests heavier as she reads through the logs.
How many widows did I create? Orphans? How many mothers broke with the loss of their children?
Hecate’s hand on Hades' shoulder eases the tension in her jaw, and Hades relaxes into the touch. “Tell me the truth,” Hades commands Hecate.
A soft snort leaves Hecate and she steps closer, wrapping Hades in a hug that few dare to give the Queen of the Underworld.
“Hades,” Hecate breathes out. “I swore my allegiance to your war. I marched with you while knowing the consequences.”
“It was wrong.” Hades rests one of her hands over Hecate’s. “Though mortals fear me and believe me cruel, I don’t enjoy their demise at my rage.”
“The Fates weave destiny, Hades How long until you quit fighting their loom?”
Hades draws comfort from her oldest friend—the one who came to her as a castoff child, the one Hades raised despite her brothers’ urging her to cast the unwanted goddess back into the primordial dark. They stand there—mother and child, sisters, best friends—reminding Hades the Fates give happiness as often as they give sorrow.
“I hate feeling like my father’s daughter,” Hades confesses, her words softer than any mortal ear could detect.
“You’re the good parts of Kronos,” Hecate replies. “He wasn’t always a monster.”
The hardest things for Hades to accept are the memories her mother and grandmother shared—centuries where Kronos was kind, loving, and a decent ruler. Before power, and the fear of losing his position, drove him into a madness nothing could breach.
“I don’t want to turn into the version of my father that plagues my nightmares.” Hades says, drawing away from Hecate’s warmth. “I fell into madness willingly, Hecate. I watched Olympus collapse with glee.”
“Love, my darling, is the greatest version of Chaos.” Hecate steps closer, hesitating to touch Hades again. “Creative and destructive in equal measures. You know love is a madman’s salvation and a sane man’s mental break. Chaos laughed at us all when she created love.”
“Awfully poetic for a goddess who refuses to love,” Hades replies with a tired grin.
Hecate’s smile lacks happiness. “I don’t refuse, Hades. I learned my lesson.”
Hades' gaze drifts to the many tombs—the records of the dead—and she releases another sigh. Her thoughts return to the names she’ll soon add to this never-ending library.
“Rest,” Hecate says, interrupting Hades' thoughts. “The dead have eternity. They can wait.”
“I also have eternity,” Hades reminds her with soft eyes.
“Yes, you do.” Hecate reaches for Hades' hand. Squeezing her palm, Hecate adds, “The tasks will be there tomorrow. They’ll be there in a month, in a year, in a decade, Hades. You can rest for centuries if you choose.”
“Rest feels selfish.”
“So be selfish, Chaos knows Zeus and Poseidon are. Every king is selfish. Be a selfish queen, Hades. Allow yourself out from beneath the weight of your crown. You’ve more than earned it.” When Hades remains unmoved, Hecate scoffs. “What’s the point in going to war for Kore if you won’t touch him once you bring him home?”
“It feels wrong.” Hades whispers, as if she’s afraid of the dead spirits that linger in the leather-bound books she wrote.
“You’re a goddess, Hades. A ruling goddess, even…right and wrong are for your subjects. Right and wrong are notions for mortals. Or, in your love for them, did you forget yourself?” Hecate’s gaze sharpens, shrewdness morphing her expression. “You create right and wrong, Hades. Should you drown every mortal on a whim, your actions would be right and just because you proclaim they are. You are Hades; Queen of the Underworld, Ruler of the Dead, the Unseen One, and the Last Judgment. Your names are endless, as are your accomplishments. The Fates decide when mortals die. Your war for Kore was written in their tapestry. Would you blame the Fates for those mortals?”
“No,” Hades concedes.
“Then shut up, pack away the guilt, and go to your consort.”
The vise around Hades' heart loosens, guilt ebbs, and she breathes easier.
“You’re awfully insolent, Hecate.”
Hecate crosses her arms, in a display of further defiance.
Hades chuckles. “Thank you for your insolence.”
“Anytime.” Hecate jerks her head toward the room’s exit.
