Tales of Olympus

Epilogue

"You can run the mile."

--The Script, "Hall of Fame" (2012). Written by Danny O'Donoghue, Mark Sheehan, and Will.i.am (William Adams). Performed by The Script featuring will.i.am. Released by Phonogenic Records and Epic Records. © 2012 Sony/ATV Music Publishing and Universal Music Publishing Group. All rights reserved.

The throne room of Olympus was starting to become host to many pivotal moments for the history of the Grecian gods in the mind of its current ruler. Zeus wondered how many great decisions had been made in the throne room.

It had been made by and for his grandfather, Ouranos. If Zeus' lessons were correct, the Titans had once kneeled before Ouranos in Zeus's throne room; they had kneeled before his father, Cronos, when it was his time to be king.

It was Zeus' time to reign. As such, the one who would be kneeling before him was on his way.

Tension mixed with impatience into a swirling concoction that filled the air of the room meant for Zeus' greatness. Golden light streamed through the high windows onto every facet of the room from Zeus himself, to the pillars, to the marble floor. From the light to the color of his hanging tapestry curtains, everything existed to accentuate the splendor of the place.

Zeus sat upon his throne as he waited for Hermes. Only two days after his wedding night with Hera, he knew it was best to deal with his wayward son.

The doors creaked open, and Hermes strolled in, his movements casual and unhurried.

He wore his usual attire of a white toga with a red sash and an orangish gold wreath on his head while his bronze sandals clinked softly on the ground from his superior grace.

"Pops?" Hermes said in the form of a question. While his tone was usually light and bordered on mocking, today he struggled to find his usual ease. That was the final confirmation for the King of Olympus. "You called?"

Zeus leaned forward in his chair. His eyes narrowed when his son found himself standing near the center of the room. "Ah, Hermes," Zeus began as if he had not been expecting him. His voice was deceptively calm for what he suspected. "There is a matter I wish to discuss with you."

"Shoot," Hermes said. The effort he forced out the single syllable might not have been noticeable to others but to Zeus it was as loud and bright as a thunderbolt.

"Atmywedding," Zeus started, ensuring his son understood the inflection in his voice. "There were many guests. You know I do not blame you for the foreigners, but there was one guest that seemed... different."

Hermes' right foot started to shake subtly

"I will be blunt, young man. Was Chelone there?"

Hermes' smile widened as he shrugged, stepping over to lean against one of the columns. "Of course she was, Pops. Why would she not?"

Zeus' grip tightened on the arms of his throne, turning his knuckles white. A spark of lightning crackled around his fingertips. His voice lost all of its cordial kindness for his son. A growing edge started to infect his words. "Do not play games with me, Hermes!"

Hermes flinched back, realizing some of the peril that he was in. "Come on, Father!" Hermes cried with both hands out, imploring. "What does it really matter? Everything else went off without a hitch. Everyone was happy! No one missed one river nymph!"

Zeus rose from his throne, the golden light glinting off his crown, and the red of rage was spreading over his face. His full height made the room feel smaller.

"Chelone is a descendant of Oceanus, idiot boy!" Zeus exclaimed. "Ifeveryonehad been there, Oceanus and Tethys would have missed the celebration! And they... would... have... come back to Olympus... on...their... own!"

He slammed his foot onto the ground, and lightning shot out from his sandal to charge through the edges of the room.

"Thatwaswhyher presence was required, youstupid child! Your flippancy, your insolence--" His voice thundered, reverberating off the marble walls.

Hermes' smile vanished from sight. In its place was the trembling of a child before his father. "I couldn't get her--"

Zeus' eyes blazed with fury from his son's excuse. "Enough!" he roared. The thunderous command shook the room and created a tremor to run through the walls. He took a step forward toward Hermes threateningly. "You've overstepped! This isn't about your usual fun! Where was your respect for your family, for yourking."

Hermes straightened, his eyes flinching back to escape. There was nowhere to go with the cage of lightning holding them both in.

For the smallest moment between the two of them, the room was silent with the faint realization of what was about to happen.

Zeus stood over his son, a towering figure of divine wrath. Though a young god in his adulthood, Hermes was not ready to battle the being who had cast the Titans down to Tartarus.

The lightning crackled more intensely around the king's form, casting sharp, erratic shadows across his face. He loomed over Hermes. The fleet-footed god tried to move, but Zeus lifted a finger and Hermes' bronze sandals seemed glued to the ground.

Nonetheless, Hermes tried to move to no avail.

Zeus' restrained fury was etched into his eyes as he looked at his son's lean, strong legs.

"You're so proud of your speed, aren't you, son?"

The look in Zeus' eyes grew malicious as he came up with the retribution for Hermes' disobedience. A single stomp forward caused Hermes to howl in rage and pain. Another accompanied the first, and any on Olympus could hear the cries of the messenger god who had saved his father only decades before.

---

In the Underworld, Hades stood, staring at his cavernous halls. The air was heavy and cold compared to the free warmth of his brother's heavenly mountain. Spectral flames cast light as opposed to Helios' sun. He would need to give his realm something better.

His robes of crimson and obsidian made him appear like a specter that haunts the shadows of one's forgotten dreams.

Suddenly, after seeing Hera marry Zeus, everything of his realm was becoming a wound, demonstrating his exile from the warmth and light of Olympus...from her. Her words had been more harmful than any wound inflicted upon him, more lasting than any of his golden-ichor scars.

He stared at the towering stone walls that he had erected, tracing his fingers over the cold surface. His mind jumped back to the wedding. He should have done more, he should have fought harder.

With a growl of frustration, Hades slammed his fist into the wall. The stone cracked under his godly strength. It surrendered to his might and splintered into hundreds of pieces with a deafening sound that echoed through all of the Underworld. Fragments and dust of rock fell to the ground by his feet.

He leaned against the broken wall. Hades pressed his forehead against the cold stone, closing his eyes. The ache was becoming too much.

What could he have done though? Zeus was King of Olympus. Zeus had a right to a wife, and Hades would not trick, coerce, or even kidnap Hera to make him his wife.

With that acceptance of his own morals, Hades understood, regardless of what cruel words Hera had said, she was beyond his reach. Zeus would make certain that the vows they had exchanged would bind Hera to him forever. The thought of her lying with Zeus flashed in his mind, causing him to flinch and struggle with a torment worse than any punishment he could have devised for the souls in his realm.

Agony had always been his companion. Why should it have been different as King of the Underworld? This was just another wound that would never heal.

Hades let out a slow, shuddering breath before straightening up. That was the truth of it, he knew. Regardless of Hera's affection or marital status, hewasKing of the Underworld. Heneededto be the equal to his brothers.

Poseidon was doing nothing to extend his power in the seas. He was just in love with the fun of it all. Zeus would always be forward thinking with the assistance of Prometheus, Gaia, and even Rhea.

That led him back to the thoughts of the wedding. More about the guests, not the marital parties.

Hades's thoughts were heavy and muddled from Hera still, but he was focusing...Who were those other guests?.

Zeus was expanding his influence, forging alliances with those guests. They must have been foreign gods even if Hades did not know their names or histories. The idea of powerful beings from distant lands being tied up with his brother did not fill Hades with happiness. Strange and mighty powers from afar would only bolster Zeus' confidence in thinking he could maintain his supremacy.

The thought sickened Hades. Zeus was already King of Olympus. Reaching beyond the borders of their lands meant he would be unstoppable and unable to be toppled.

Hades was falling behind, regardless of how much he improved the Underworld. The gap between him and his brothers was becoming a widening gulf that would become a chasm that would consume him.

He clenched his fists in frustrated bitterness. He could not compete with Zeus if he had an unlimited number of allies to draw upon.

"What troubles you, my king?"

The airy voice of Nyx was as soft as it always was. He turned, wondering how long she had been there. He might have complained, but she was far older than he was, and she had proved irreplaceable in helping him build up his realm.

"My brother is moving forward, Nyx. I have been building this realm to be the equal to Olympus, but if he is making alliances with other gods, I won't be able to compete."

Nyx thought about this for a moment. Her eyes darted back and forth in thought. She raised up her right hand, lifting a finger to illustrate that she had a thought.

"A moment," she breathed before turning away from him. "Follow me," Nyx ordered without thought.

Hades blindly followed Nyx Deeper down into the darkest recesses of Tartarus. The air grew thicker with the cold weight of an ancient eternity. He moved cautiously, guided by the Primordial of Night. The way she glided ahead of him reminded him of a shadow given life, which was just another reminder that no matter how powerful he was, Nyx was greater than him in age and power, and while he was the ruler of the realm, she was endless darkness made manifest.

"We are almost there," Nyx murmured with a voice so soft that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Where she led Hades, he did not know. What he did know is that this was a deeper, darker part of the Underworld, far from the Temple of the Fates, long away from his palace, and an impossible distance from the doorway to the living realm.

This was deeper than any god had ever dared to go in Hades' memory as if to say there were portions of the world that even the gods seldom ventured. A chill ran up his spine as the breeze breathed with the memories of ancient horrors.

When Nyx stopped moving, she motioned at a door that Hades had never seen before. He walked up to it. A surge of power emanated off of this door carved into this old cavernous wall when he reached the structure. This was an archaically antiquated, predating potentially time itself, object.

Carved from a dark, weathered wood and bound with a cold metal, the doorway was etched with symbols that Hades did not recognize. They glowed faintly when he approached it.

Nyx gestured with a wave of her hand, and the door creaked open. Hades stared in baffled bewilderment when a vast chamber within revealed itself to him.

Hades stepped through despite his primal fear of the unknown. He knew he was crossing some true boundary, and this was a place where all of his mighty powermightdo him no good.

Whatever he might have expected, he blanched in shock when the sight that greeted him was both simple and unique. The chamber within was circular, dominated by a large table in its center. This table was perfectly round and hewn from a single piece of obsidian for a polished mirror-like sheen that reflected the myriad of doorways that lined the walls of the room.

Each doorway was distinct, marked with a symbol of what? Hades could not know.

He moved closer, drawn by the mystery of these doors.

One door was marked with interlocking triangles glowing with a cold, blue light while another was adorned with a golden curving eye. A winged lion was etched into the wood of the next. Some scratches were on the must have meant something in a deep glowing red, but Hades could not be sure what it was. A stone of some kind was one in the far distance with a symbol Hades could never have known on another wooden slab.

Nyx watched Hades with scrutiny as he ran from one door to another with excited curiosity.

"I have been in this Underworld forever. If you look at the door we have come in, it holds a symbol from our land," Nyx said.

When Hades looked on the back side of the door, he saw the symbol Psi (Ψ).

"It is my belief that these are the paths to other realms of the dead as this door led to our realm," she went on in her soft and dark way of speaking. "Each realm could be as vast and as powerful as your own."

Hades turned to her with a mixture of emotions. He struggled with contemplation, confusion had struck him, and joy at what he believed Nyx was trying to offer were all on his face.

"Why show me this?" he asked. Though he already suspected the answer, he needed confirmation from the Chthonic Primordial. The ambition in his chest demanded this of her, so that he might sate the hunger to be better than his youngest sibling.

Nyx smiled in a sweet caring way that might have been akin to a doting aunt, but on one as venerable as this Primordial felt uncomfortable even for the Chthonic King

"Dear king, you have been looking for answers as though you are of Olympus, watching Zeus be this Olympic King, but we are not of Olympus, Hades. Zeus could never imagine the solutions we might come up with. To him, he would be the master of his realm and all else is unimportant. He cannot see the power in death itself."

Hades' gaze shifted back to the doors. This would not be an answer for today. He would need a guardian. He would need to decide if conquering would be what he should do in the future or if there were rulers he could work with, but Zeus' growing influence would falter this plan.

"Be cautious, Young Hades," Nyx warned, her voice a whisper on the edge of the darkness. "These realms will likely come with their own perils."

Hades nodded in agreement. His heart pounded with a mix of trepidation and excitement. He could see the potential for the future. He could not act like his brother. Zeus was one to twist the arms of others. He would take away the rights or feelings of others. The correct answer was cooperation, not conquering.

He took a deep breath to besureof his own choice.

"We will need to post someone to watch this room. Maybe Charon... If someone from another realm comes into this room, I want us to offer them hospitality."

Nyx nodded.

Hades clenched his fist in excitement. Zeus may have had Hera, but Hades had not lost the war for Olympus or for Hera. He would outstrip his brother, he would outdo his father, his legacy will last forevermore.

After all, all things came to death before too long.

---

Hermes stood at the edge of a grand marble balcony on Olympus. He had to lean on that balcony even with his bronze sandals planted firmly on the stone.

Even after two days since his punishment, he clenched the railing with a grip so tight that his knuckles whitened. His father had not killed him, thankfully, and he had not taken away the palace Zeus had given him since the Typhon incident.

Below Hermes' balcony, the pavilions of Olympus bustled with activity.

One person caught his sharp eyes more than anyone. Zeus was sitting in one of the pavilions by himself, but his eyes were fixed on one goddess more than the others. The newest commodity on Olympus: Aphrodite.

Hermes saw the appeal. She was fun, scantily dressed. No one could look at her and not think sex or desire.

Not for Hermes though. He felt a wave of nausea twist his insides watching his father be happy. His broken legs could barely hold his form up. They ached with a sharp reminder of the pain he had endured at the decisive hands of his father. His superiority as a son of Zeus made sure he could still stand and walk as a god, but he could not currently run.

The agony of betrayal cut deeper than any physical wound. Surely that was the point of his father's punishment. Take away what Hermes took pride in. Someday, and he did not know when, Hermes would take what Zeus loved the most. It might take centuries...Millennia, but he would.

His father's actions deserved retribution.

Fury over Chelone was...What the fuck was that?

This was not worth his suffering.

How dare he?Hermes seethed on his balcony. He wished he had been blessed with great strength. If he had, he would have struck down his father. As it was, Zeus was untouchable, but Chelone was one who could be punished. She was so lazy, barely left her river or her home...Hermes knew he could make that punishment fit the crime.

If she loved her home so much, then she wouldneverleave it. Hermes slammed his fist against the balcony. Revenge might not heal his legs, but it sure as fuck would make him feel better.