Chapter Twenty Three

## Twenty Three

"Are you ready?" Hades asked his loyal hound as he squatted in the hallway, his backside partially leaning against the wall.

All three heads of Cerberus showed their excitement in different ways. The red-eyed head nodded as the green-eyed head hung its tongue out, dripping acidic venom on the floor. Finally, the blue-eyed head grinned, baring its large mouth of monstrous teeth.

Most mortals thought Cerberus was a dog, but he was never such a thing. Instead, he was a purebred monster, a child of the abomination Typhon and its mating with Echidna. Aside from his sheer size, the reason for Cerberus' association with the canine creature was easy to see. He had a quadripedal body, with solid and broad shoulders in the front and a narrower backside and hips, with a long tail, though it resembled a dragon's tail more than a dog or wolf. Each of his three heads resembled a dog with a snout with sharp canine teeth and dog-like ears hidden under each head's curved horns. Though Cerberus could alter his size, he was usually the size of a mammoth but was now shrunk down to be at the height of Hades' hips at his shoulders.

"Let's go," said Hades, scratching behind the ears of Cerberus' left and right heads as he rested his forehead against the forehead of the middle head. Each of the creature's heads had a different color of eyes and a different unique power.

Cerberus' right head bore glowing blue eyes able to pierce the souls of the living and the dead alike, causing them to be paralyzed with a sense of fear and dread. Some mortals mistakenly believed this was true petrification, but that was not true. However, should a mortal resist the glare of this head, they might still find themselves frozen solid by its chilling breath.

Cerberus' middle head had green eyes, able to see in the darkest shadows and through the thickest fog or smoke. The eyes have also been known to be the sharpest, discerning the smallest of details from great distances. This head's ferocious mouth also had a wicked bite, dripping with a poison that killed mortals on mere contact and causing the ground to shrivel and decay wherever it dripped.

Finally, Cerberus' left head had a mouth that burned like a furnace and eyes that resembled hot coals. Those red eyes could distinguish the living from the dead by reading the heat rising off the warmth of the living. This snout's scorched breath burned so intensely that not even ash survived its touch.

Strolling through the cobblestone basement of an abandoned tenement building, Hades found the door marked with the sigil of the House of Hades and placed his hand on its knob. The door stuck, but with the god's might, Hades hardly noticed it.

The room had once been designed to store coal, but the advent of essence crystal engines had made the primitive furnace in a nearby room obsolete. So the room had become a simple storage room before Hades' daughters repurposed it again into an interrogation room. The only furniture now found in the room was an old chair to which the middle-aged Theban male was chained.

The man was portly. He had the look of a well-fed merchant. Soft hands, flabby gut, well-kept beard. It was challenging to say for sure as his clothing had been removed and stored elsewhere.

As Hades walked in, he stepped aside to allow Cerberus to enter behind him. Closing the door behind his hound, Hades motioned for the hound to wait in the nearby dark corner, but the creature did not respond. Instead, its eyes glared at the prisoner.

Looking to the prisoner as he ran his fingers across his beast's back to calm him, Hades saw the source of Cerberus' agitation. The suspected heretic was stifling a laugh. "What's so funny?" asked Hades, then stroking the neck of Cerberus' right head.

The chained merchant let out a harsh chuckle. "This is the dreaded and mighty Cerberus that dwarfs the tallest horses?!" he teased the hound as he let out a boisterous laugh.

The three heads of the beast let out rumbling growls. The blue-eyed head snorted and snapped its jaws. The creature took one step forward, but Hades placed his ringed hand down, bumping the nose of the green-eyed head and causing the hound to step back.

Hades removed his jacket and hung it on a wall-mounted rack where the coal shovelers would have hung their shovels and other tools. Then, as the god turned around, he began rolling up his sleeves, bringing them past his elbows. "If you recognize my hound, then shall I even bother with my personal introduction?"

The chained heretic shook his head. "No idea who you are... Oh, wait!" he said with a dramatic tone. "Are you Dionysus, the God of Oral Sex? Is that what you're here for? Here to shine my prick?"

Hades raised his eyebrow. "Did you want me to?" he asked, taking another step forward. "Because, I'm sorry to disappoint, but you're not my type..."

"What if I pray really hard?" asked the merchant with a smug smirk. "I hear all you gods are whores for worship..."

Hades reached up to his neck and loosed his necktie. "Do I really look like I'm that desperate for worship?" he asked, removing his expensive tie with a particular flair. He then carefully rolled it up and tucked it into the breast pocket of his waistcoat. "Do I?" he asked as he took another step forward.

The merchant laughed. "You look like you a pale Corinthian whore if I ever saw one. All the fancy clothes to hide your pasty complexion."

"You're one to talk?" asked Hades, looking at the man's particular tanning pattern. His belly and thighs were nearly as pale as Hades. The god was then standing over the heretic. "If you are, that would make my job easier."

The merchant smirked. "How about you bring those goddesses back in here," he said, referring to Hades' oldest daughters, Melinoë and Makaria. "Maybe they'll shine my prick if you-" the man's words turned to weak gasps as the god seized him by the throat and slammed his head to the floor, breaking the chair in the process and loosening the man's chains.

Lifting the heretic from the pile of broken wood and chains, old coal dust filling the air, Hades let the man's feet scramble clumsily beneath him as the god escorted him to the wall. Then, slamming the heretic to the wall and releasing him, Hades snarled. "Say that again..."

Coughing, the heretic shook his head. "No..." he groaned as he doubled over, desperately trying to catch his breath as the coal dust made that chore more difficult.

"What?" asked Hades, seizing the man by the ear and lifting his gaze to the god. "I did not hear you. You'll need to speak up."

The heretic shook his head and wheezed. "No... I said... No. I won't- I won't say it again."

Hades looked at his shirt and scoffed. He brushed the coal dust from it, but it only smeared. Sighing, the god took a step back. "I'm not here to interrogate you. I am only here to hear the same thing you told my daughters so that I might give a full report to my brother. You have two choices ahead of you. First, you can comply; tell me the same as you told Melinoë and Makaria. If you do, the next god you'll see is Makaria. She'll give you a peaceful death and make sure you the coin to pay him for judgment."

The merchant continued to wheeze, breathing through his nostrils as he massaged his red neck. "What is my other choice?"

Hades shrugged. "I give the report to my brother anyway. I will inform him that you told my daughters but refused to make the same confession to me. You will not be paid the ferry fee. You shall linger in death and become an angry shade. It's a painful, miserable experience I assure you," Hades explained with a wickedly expressionless face.

The hound in the corner excitedly panted and licked his lips many.

Hades smirked, seeing the heretic's disconcerting glance at the hound. "Cerberus would like it if that was your choice."

"Why's that?" asked the heretic, unsure if he should be looking at the god or his hound.

"If that option, Cerberus gets a snack," said the god with a fiendish grin. "It's so rare he gets to eat mortals anymore. It's a favorite treat of his."

Trembling, the naked heretic tried to find it in him to appear unafraid, but the man was horrified. But, with a gulp, he still put on a brave face, and though his knees were quaking, he stood somewhat upright and raised his head. "Do your worst, false god!"

Sighing, Hades simply walked away. "I generally admire courage, but this is mere foolishness," he said, rolling his sleeves back down. "This is a show you put on without an audience. Empty bravado. That's all I see here," he said, snatching his jacket from the rack. He folded the clothing over his arm as he opened the door. "Enjoy your meal," he said to the hound before closing the door.

In the hallway, to the sounds of screams and heavy footfalls, Hades slipped his arms into his jacket. Then, returning his necktie to his collar, Hades knotted it with a flourish worthy of a god. The god heard the screams grow weaker and heard flesh and viscera being torn, accompanied by the sound of cracking bones and morrow being slurped. Then, Hades turned the door's knob and slightly pushed the catching door inward. "Take your time, boy," he said as he stepped away, strolling down the corridor and ascending the staircase at the hall's end.

Minutes later, Hades entered another room marked by his house's sigil on the door. This was the living room of an old apartment from the last century. It was still relatively livable and retained some quality, if weathered, furniture. A testament to good Theban craftsmanship.

Lounging on a threadbare sofa, napping, was Hypnos, the God of Sleep. He was oblivious to the god's entrance. Hades did not object. The god mainly was there to tend to the horses.

Venturing further into the apartment, Hades found his daughters, Melinoë and Makaria, standing in the dining room. Their eyes gazed out to the large building across the street. Hades approached the goddesses and placed himself between them, resting his hands on their shoulders. "Daughters."

Each goddess gave their father a light kiss on the cheek. "Father," they greeted, Makaria speaking before the kiss and Melinoë after.

Makaria turned, resting her back against the wall. She was the taller of the two sisters, wearing a gray jacket with a white skirt. The goddess had white hair, pale red eyes, and her father's complexion. As she looked upon her father, Makaria folded her arms, tucking them under her bosom. "How did the inquiry go?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not good," said Hades, leaning forward to look out the window and assess the building across the way.

"I'm surprised to see you return so quickly," said Makaria.

"I had to feed the dog," Hades said with a grin.

Makaria sighed. "So I am not needed."

Hades shook his head. After a moment, he stood upright and placed his hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Relax, Aria. We have an entire building to clear. This one could be filled with heretics in desperate need of your mercy."

She smiled and nodded, giving her father a soft embrace. He stroked her back for a spell, but he returned to the window as she stepped back. "We should give our report," said the goddess.

Hades nodded. "What have you seen?"

"The harpies just left," said Melinoë. She was the shorter but older sister. The goddess' eyes were mismatched, one pale gold and the other the pale shade of green. Together, the eyes resembled the colors of quince. Her hair color was similar, being that of a Stygian melon. Her unusual appearance had been the source of her name, essentially translating to 'melon head.' "Melon-Head" had even been the affectionate nickname her close family had given her.

Though Melinoë was the family's off-kilter child, prone to disturbing behavior and uttering strange things, Hades had no less love for her than any of his other children, whether adopted, reincarnated, or otherwise. He gave her a nod as he gazed upon her pale face. "How long ago?"

"Twelve minutes," said Makaria, glancing at the small clock she kept on her belt so she could pronounce the time of death for those she gave her final kiss.

"All of them left at the same time?" Hades asked.

"All arrived together, and all left together," Melinoë said with a confident tone and a solid nod. "They were in there for... how long, was it?" she asked, looking at her sister.

"One hour and seventeen minutes," said Makaria.

Hades placed his hand on the wall as his eyes scoured the building across the street. "Did they arrive with anything in their possession?"

"If they did it was stowed within their gear," said Makaria.

Melinoë giggled. "But they did leave with something."

"They did?" asked Hades, raising an eyebrow.

Makaria blinked. "You didn't mention that before."

Melinoë stared at her father and sister with a confused expression. "Mention what?" she asked, blinking in her confusion.

Hades sighed. Melinoë was prone to such utterances, often making comments without any recollection that she had done so. Whispers of Limbo was what Hecate had called it, claiming that Melinoë was touched by some ancient primordial magic. "Do you know what they left with?" Hades asked, raising his eyebrow.

Melinoë shrugged. "Not that I saw," she said with a silly grin.

Sighing, Hades nodded. "It could be a false whisper," he said to Makaria, the only other witness to Melinoë's prophecy.

Skeptical, Makaria shook her head. "She's been trending toward the truth more as of late."

Hades nodded. "You're right, she has."

"Who has?" asked Melinoë.

Stepping forward, Hades kissed his daughter on the forehead. He ran his hand through her melony hair. "You have," he said with a smile. His hand fell to her should and gave it a soft pat. "I say we go knock on the door."

Makaria raised her eyebrow. "We're not waiting until the harpies return?"

Hades scoffed and chuckled. "I don't want to fight a bunch of harpies. I'd rather kill a bunch of silly mortals. Wouldn't you?"

"You're letting the harpies get away with this treason?" asked Melinoë. "Father, are you feeling alright?"

"I feel fine," he said with a smile as he claimed his Bident from where he had rested it against the wall earlier. "I simply don't want to deal with the harpies."

Makaria shook her head. Without a scoff, she kicked off the wall and approached her father. "You're not letting them get away with anything, are you?"

Hades smiled. "No, I'm not."

"You're not?" asked Melinoë. She blinked and tilted her head to examine her father's body language. Then, with a slow gasp, her lips formed into a smile. "You set the Furies upon them, didn't you?"

Hades shrugged and strolled away. "What do you think I was doing while I sent you two to bring the merchant in?" he asked with a wink. "I wasn't out getting a drink. There was a method to my madness."

The two sisters looked at each other and nodded. Both thought he had been taking a break in the middle of a mission. They seemed disappointed that he hadn't been taking it easy. They were often fond of urging their father to take a vacation or engage in more recreational pursuits. They often cautioned him that they were concerned about his mental health. They were good daughters.

Kicking the sofa, Hades roused the sleeping god. "Hypnos, we're stepping out."

Gasping and blinking, the god sat up and yawned. Then, as he stretched his arms, he looked up at Hades and smacked his lips. "What was that? Where are we going?"

"My daughters and I shall be across the street," said Hades. "I want you to saddle the horses in case we need to make a hasty pursuit... or retreat."

"Retreat?" asked Hypnos with a sobering concern. "I thought this was a heretic inquisition..." he blinked and shifted his body, his hands nervously gripping his pants. Finally, he stood up and stammered without making any actual words. Then, after a moment of pointless babbling, he paused, gathered his thoughts and stared into Hades' eyes. "My king, did you bring me on a Wild Hunt?"

Hades shook his head. "No, but I do not want to presume anything. Heretics have been raiding templar stores of adamant as of late. There is always the possibility that this is a trap."

"Not a trap," said Melinoë, shaking her head. "It's an invitation."

As Hades turned on his heels, he saw Makaria giving her sister the nervous side-eye. "Sister," said Makaria with a long pause, "was that a whisper?"

Melinoë blinked. A slow smile crossed her lips. "I... I think so?"

A waking whisper, Hades thought with a nod. "An invitation?" he asked, glancing to Makaria, then back to Melinoë. "Well, I would hate to be late," he said, making for the door.

The two goddesses followed their father as he strolled down the corridor of the tenement compound. The god made his way down the stairs, careful to avoid a few suspect steps and pointing out for his daughters to do the same.

The god stepped out into the Theban night when they reached the ground floor. This particular city district was unlikely to bring bystander traffic at this late hour. Confident that he would not raise suspicion walking with his Bident in full view, the god marched across the street.

Makaria followed with her usual saunter, making use of her long legs to carry her at a quicked pace despite her methodic gait. Melinoë moved more unevenly, swaying left and right and stopping to spin about in a circle as her arms spread out or stretched toward the sky. Makaria was quiet, like a predator stalking prey. As for Melinoë, she giggled like a silly fool.

Hades stepped up the ornate steps at the front of the building. Once a grand staircase shaped from the finest marble, its splendor was now hidden under weeds and dust. It was slanted to one side because the building had settled, possibly after an earthquake during the last century's wars. Hades approached the door and paused with his hand on the handle.

"Father?" asked Makaria, noticing her father's body language. "What is wrong?"

Hades gave the door a slight push. "The door is unlocked," he said. Then, as the door drifted open, he shot a glance over his shoulder to his daughters. "Which way did the harpies come and go?" he asked.

"Rooftop," said Melinoë. "Both times," she added before hopping onto the bottom step with one foot. The slope caused her to spin her arms as she balanced herself before Makaria reached out and grabbed her wrist.

Hades let out a long sigh as his focus returned to the open door. "I guess that means the door was left unlocked for us," he said, strolling in.

The first room he came upon was the lobby. To his left was a large reception area with a coat check, and to his right was a large sitting area with three red leather sofas surrounding a large fireplace on three sides. Further back was a staircase ascending to the higher levels and two open doorways. One leading to a library and another to various meeting halls.

This was the meeting house of the Orchard Society. He recalled having been a guest here on several occasions over a century ago. The Orchard Society was an elite club for the most wealthy, influential, or intellectual Thebans to gather. Though it had a reputation for hosting hedonistic festivals, Hades only attended the more cultivated gatherings to drink wine and share deep conversations with the nation's best and brightest—not that there was not some debauchery to be found at those meetings as well.

Standing in the center of the lobby, Hades' feet shuffled about as he turned around to assess his surroundings. The space had been cleaned recently. There was the smell of cleaning solvents in the air. The furniture had been replaced. Everything within the sightlines of where he stood had been meticulously tidied or refurbished. It looked as it did in its heyday.

Hades eyed his daughters as they seemed to reach the same assessment as they examined the space. Makaria stepped behind the reception counter and ran her hand on the workspaces hidden from view. She raised her hand to show the report of significant dust. "They missed a spot," she said, confirming Hades' suspicion that this was simply for show.

Melinoë giggled as she dropped herself on a coach. Then, a moment later, she sighed. "It's not actual Corinthian leather," she said as she returned to her feet, frowning as she returned to her father's side. "Cheap imitation."

Hearing distant footsteps, Hades' threw his eyes to the corridor that led to the meeting chambers. A lone figure was approaching. Hades cautiously wandered closer until a man in his early thirties came into view.

The man had a similar build to the heretic that had fed Cerberus. He had golden blonde hair and tan skin. He was likely of Knossosi heritage, possibly Spartan or Athenian. He was dressed in a gray suit with a long topcoat, slightly lighter than his slacks with a red interior. His waistcoat was made of gold cloth, and his shirt was white with no necktie. The gentleman wore expensive shoes and walked with a cane, not for disability but for style.

Hades recognized the man, but something seemed off, and he hesitated, second-guessing himself. Then, finally, the god approached and went ahead with identifying the man standing before him. "Pirithous," he said with a shallow tone.

The hero laughed. "Please, Hades. No need to call me by my old name. Please... It's Rouvin now."

Hades blinked. He recalled the man now. A decade ago, he had spared the heretic's life in exchange for swearing himself to the clergy. Hades narrowed his brow. The man standing before the god was not clergy anymore. If there was anything worse than a heretic, it was an oathbreaker.

With a deft spin of his weapon, Hades marched forward. "You broke your oath?" he asked with a grim tone. His anger was also fueled by not having recognized him as Pirithous before. Hades had never known Pirithous as a young man and failed to notice the telltale features that persist through reincarnation. It also hadn't helped that Hades had kept his distance from Pirithous since allowing his reincarnation in Elysium. Human souls fusing with Elysian bodies gave heroes different appearances than those they had on Earth.

Chuckling, Rouvin put his hands, baring his palms at the god. "Easy, Hades... Allow me to explain."

Hades paused. "Explain..." he said with a snarl.

He motioned for the god and goddesses to follow him as he turned to return down the hall. "We can speak over dinner," he said, strolling away, swinging his cane as he went. "Will your fourth be joining us?" he asked.

Hades followed, using his Bident much the same way Rouvin used his cane, only with no pompous flair. "My fourth?" he asked, playing dumb.

Nodding, Rouvin stopped by an open doorway and gestured inward. He waited for the god and goddesses to step in before he followed. He stepped between the goddesses and walked on Hades' unarmed side. "It's commonly mentioned in the scripture that Hades' Wild Hunts are always four-strong. Orphnaeus, Aethon, Nyctaeus, and Alastor. Those are your stallions, aren't they?"

The room they had entered was a dining hall. Extravagant and spacious. The long table that awaited them was old but polished. It was made for fifty chairs but only has five surrounding it now. The chairs were newer than the table; the originals were probably destroyed years ago. In front of each chair were a cloche and silverware.

"The fourth is otherwise detained," Hades decided to say, scowling at the heretic.

Rouvin nodded and walked deep into the room to take his seat at the head of the table. "I remember reading that you mainly rode with your Furies. However, all the recent documents I could find seem to suggest you don't ride with them anymore... You seem to prefer the company of your daughters," Rouvin paused, his face forming a grin. "I know Hecate is near," he said with a soft chuckle. "She might as well join us."

Hades glanced at each of his daughters in his presence. Then, nodding, they each approached a cloche on the far corners of the table. In unison, they pulled the chairs back, each with their own style, and sat down. Hades, however, walked up to the corner closer to Rouvin, across the table from the cloche that would remain empty. Hades grabbed his chair and pointedly dragged it to the far end before taking his seat at the foot of the table, laying his Bident across the table in place of a cloche.

Rouvin chuckled and lowered himself into his chair. "Fair enough... Suit yourself," he said, raising his cloche to reveal a plate with a fresh steak and steamed vegetables. As he began to cut the meat, he looked across the table at the god. "So, does Persephone not trust you to keep it in your pants anymore?"

Hades glared. "I beg your pardon?"

Rouvin cut into his meat and stabbed it with his fork. "Is that why you bring your daughters now? Did the wife insist on it?" he asked, snatching the morsel from his fork and chewing it with a wicked grin.

"No," Hades said, not feeling the need to further elaborate.

Swallowing, Rouvin eyed the goddesses. He began to cut his meat as he kept his gaze on the goddesses. "Or maybe it's daddy's choice? Maybe if he can't have mommy on the road, he needs to bring the next best things? Is that it?" he asked, forking his meat. "Does daddy loves his daughters a little too much?"

Hades growled. "Enjoy your last meal, heretic," said the god with a slight smirk.

"You're going to kill me?" asked Rouvin with a scoff. "Why?" he asked, biting his food off his fork and chewing slowly. "Because I insulted you?" he asked with his mouth full. Then, clicking his tongue, the heretic shook his head. "See, this is why people are losing faith in the gods. You're a barbaric breed that doesn't reflect our modern civilities."

Scoffing, Hades shook his head. "We brought this savage world into this modern lifestyle," said Hades with a warning tone.

"And we have outgrown our need for you," said Rouvin, swallowing his mouthful and flashing a grin to the deities.

"We?" asked Hades. "You count yourself as one of them?"

"Aren't I?" asked Rouvin, raising an eyebrow.

"You were born in Greece..." said Hades, glaring. "On Earth. As was I. We brought you to this world. You are not an Elysian anymore than I."

Rouvin chuckled. "Yes, well, there is what I and the people of Elysium are, and then there is what you three are not."

"Mortal," said Melinoë as she reached for her cloche. Hades put his hand out and stilled his daughter's hand.

Makaria shook her head. "You're a hero," she said, eyeing Rouvin. "You're not truly mortal. Not like the Elysians. Your souls are fundamentally different."

Melinoë nodded. "It's true. We brought heroes from Earth into the reincarnation cycle because Elysian souls cannot bear boons."

Boons were how the gods created heroes, such as Pirithous, among the mortals of Earth. It was a form of soul magic. Most of them were created by the power of the Throne of Olympus and prepackaged in an ephemeral shell. It was similar to how the gods had created the divine endowment from the souls of Titans that had become their purviews and used them to empower themselves with Titanic might. Gods could procure these boons from one another to gift their champions, lovers, faithful leaders, royal children, and devout followers.

One boon made the hero exceptional. A second made them legendary. A third or fourth gave them inhuman abilities beyond those of mortal men and women.

Rouvin raised an eyebrow. "And here I was told you needed us to help you win this world."

Sitting with his elbows on the table, his hands tented in front of his face, Hades contemplated the game Rouvin was playing. Was he trying to get the gods to talk? Was he stalling? Did he simply like to hear himself talk?

Over a millennium and a half ago, the gods had fully transitioned to the new world, abandoning Earth entirely, but this new world was not yet theirs. Still, they had claimed it for themselves and even named it in honor of the former paradise of the Underworld, lost in the Exodus due to the paradigm shift. But, there were still obstacles to the gods' victory. First, there were the native gods of this world. Tribal totemic gods of a savage nature had to be put in their place, and with Hades having anchored the Underworld to this world, there was an opportunity.

With the help of the Fates, Hades oversaw the packaging of heroic souls. Similar to how the gods once packaged boons, the gods could take the souls of integral parts of the doctrine of Pantheon and seed them into the population of the new world. Within two decades, the Olympians had a built-in army that had been born and raised among the people of Elysium.

It had been decided after the initial release that more heroes would be needed, as would the souls of monsters. So the gods were told to find more heroes, and after it was discovered that the Elysians themselves could not be endowed with a boon, it fell to Hades to find more heroes. He found them in the bowels of Tartarus.

Pirithous was one such hero, as was his father, Ixion. Sisyphus was another hero found in Tartarus. There were many others: Erysichthon, Actaeon, Orion, and Tantalus—to name a few. It was not a popular decision to release these heroes, but it was decided by a vote of four to two among the Quorum of the Six. Even though Hera and Hestia objected, they were outvoted.

So, even though Hades had still not forgiven Pirithous for attempting to kidnap Persephone, along with his friend Theseus, Hades did allow the hero a second chance. Had that made his sparing his life a decade ago the hero's third chance?

"Start talking," Hades said as he lowered his hands and gripped the shaft of the Bident, "or dinner's over, and it is time for just desserts."

Melinoë giggled, covering her lips with her hands. "I get it," she said, nodding and recovering from her fit of laughter.

Staring at Melinoë, Rouvin waited for her to finish. Chuckling, he nodded. "Alright..." he said with a flutter of blinking. "What do you want to know?" he asked, picking up his fork and knife again and sawing his steak.

"When did you leave the clergy?" asked Hades, relaxing his grip.

Rouvin was chewing as he considered the answer. "Oh, how long has it been?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. Then, nodding, he swallowed and met the gaze of the God of the Dead. He was no longer the young man who wet himself in Hades' presence to his credit. "We left just before the *'O, so tragic death of the late Pontifex Iphigenia,'"* he said with both a smirk and a glare.

Makaria growled. "Iphigenia was a great hero."

Rouvin scoffed and shook his head. "She was a glorified sacrifice as I understand it," he said, not looking up from his plate as he cut another piece.

Melinoë blinked and turned her attention to her sister. "Her heart was defiled," she said. "Her spirit was defiled the day after her assassination. She never reached the Underworld. She cannot reincarnate."

Rouvin nodded as he chewed. Then, with his teeth still chewing, he shrugged. "I assure you, it was a nasty necessity," he said with a smile as he swallowed his chewed-up steak. "Heroes aren't our main priority, but if they can't be turned, they cannot be allowed to return."

"Did you defile her heart?" asked Hades, glaring across the table.

Rouvin laughed. "I'm the mouthpiece, not the dirty hands," he said, sliding his plate forward, vegetables untouched. He glanced briefly at the other cloches but lightly shook his head. Then, blinking, he turned his focus back to the god and his daughters.

"Odd," said Hades. "I never knew you to have trouble with hands."

"You are mistaken," said Rouvin with a devious smirk.

Turning in her chair to rest her forearm on the table as she looked at Rouvin, Makaria furrowed her brow. "Saying a god is mistaken is heresy."

"I'm a heretic," Rouvin said with a chuckle. "Loud and proud."

The god and his daughters all glared at their dinner host.

Rouvin basked in the glares. He stood up, pushing himself back from the table. "You are right, though, Hades. I was an adventurer of some skill. I sailed with the Argonauts. However, I was also a king. My talents were diplomacy and guile. Ask the legends; my greatest accomplishment was convincing my best friend to join my foolish plan."

"Theseus," said Hades, nodding.

"He goes by Alekos now," said Rouvin with a wry smirk.

Hades nodded. "I thought that may be the case. Good to know... I'll remember that the next time I see him," he said, pausing. "Where is he?"

"He's always close," said Rouvin with a tooth-baring grin.

Hades recalled encountering Theseus and Pirithous before, skulking about his Underworld castle during an extensive renovation. The heroes were spying on Persephone in her orchard. Aware they were not among the dead, Hades went invisible and spied on them. Once he deduced their plan, Hades had the Furies capture the two heroes alive.

The Furies dragged the heroes to Tartarus, where Hades was waiting with two open cells. Once the two heroes were tossed into their cell without trials, Hades told Atlas to plunge them into the abyss.

As the abyss fed on your energy to devise a punishment, the lesser mortal souls had a lighter punishment than most of the inhabitants of the abyss. Hades recalled his routine interviews with the heroes, where they explained that in the depths of the abyss, they were simply stuck standing on rocks surrounded by snakes whose venom would burn their veins. Finding that sufficient, Hades kept the two as counterbalances, assuring that the two would remain together as friends locked in mutual punishment.

Years later, their friend and fellow Argonaut, Hercules, was running around the Underworld. Hercules had been sent to steal golden apples from the Garden of Hesperides. The trick to the garden was that it was not easily found. While doing some research, Hercules learned that the Garden of Hesperides was on the estate of Iapetos in the west. So rather than searching the west aimlessly, Hercules ventured into the Underworld. The purpose for doing so was to seek out Atlas in Tartarus.

As the son of Iapetos, Atlas knew where to find this garden. Hercules agreed to relieve Atlas from his burden at the controls of Tartarus, allowing the Titan's son to venture back to Earth to retrieve some apples for Hercules. Hercules had enough strength to operate the controls, so Atlas did not have to worry about his family enduring eternal punishment without reprieve, so Atlas agreed to do this.

While Hercules was left as the new operator of Tartarus, he found his friend Theseus and Pirithous. He promised the two men that he would find a way to rescue them, but when Atlas returned and discovered that Hercules had his own reasons to assure that the prisoners of Tartarus were not subjected to endless torture, Atlas thought to ask Hercules to split the burden, allowing each of them to enjoy time away from the chains. But Hercules used his paternal inheritance as a charismatic nuisance to convince Atlas to let him deliver the apples to pay off outstanding debt first. Atlas agreed to resume control of the chains of Tartarus, but then Hercules did not return. At least, not for some time and definitely not to relieve Atlas again.

The next of the demigod's labors concerned the abduction of Cerberus. So, Hercules returned to the Underworld and tried to steal Hades' cattle again, this time to use as bait. Fortunately, he was stopped by Menoetes, another son of Iapetos. The two fought to a stand-still until Persephone arrived and broke up the fight. Then, Hercules was sent packing, told to leave the Underworld and not provoke any further residents. Hercules promised to do so, but he grabbed some adamant chains from Menoetes' stables on his way out.

On the shores of Archeron, Hercules waited for Charon to cast off with a boat of fresh souls and then he attacked Cerberus unprovoked. This broke the rules of hospitality and was a violation of his promise to the Queen of the Underworld. It was also an attack on the pet of the House of Hades. Nevertheless, Hercules managed to subdue the hound of Hades and drag the three-headed beast to the surface world to complete his final labor.

Of course, when Hades heard of this, he gathered his Wild Hunt and demanded that the hero surrender Cerberus back to him or suffer punishment. Hercules agreed to give the dog back but asked for a prisoner exchange. Hades did not want all of humanity to suffer for the foolishness of one hero, nor did he want to kill the demigod son of Zeus, who was also oddly a champion of Hera. So, Hades regrettably agreed to this deal.

When Cerberus was returned to his rightful home, Hades took Hercules back to Tartarus and gave the hero a choice to save Theseus or Pirithous. Hercules demanded both, but Hades reminded Hercules of his previous violations against hospitality and a broken promise to Persephone. Hades' alternative offer was to free both heroes, with Hercules imprisoned in their place.

As he saw the three Furies step into Tartarus to back up their master, Hercules agreed to leave with Theseus alone. He reasoned that Theseus was the more famous and legendary hero. Hercules' choice had sent Pirithous back to the depths, plunged even deeper into the pits due to being counterbalanced by an empty cell.

Theseus was not happy with this arrangement. He demanded that Pirithous be returned, and he returned to the cell instead. But the decision was not Theseus' to make. The hero was dragged out of Tartarus and the Underworld by Hercules, kicking and screaming the whole way. Vowing to return to rescue his dear friend.

"As I recall," said Hades. "He was not always close... He never came back for you."

Rouvin stepped behind his chair. He gripped the back of the chair and nodded. "No," he said, shaking his head. "When Hercules chose him over me... I was hurt, but I was also happy that my friend was removed from the torture we had endured for years. However, my joy was short-lived. When I went back into the pitch of your hellhole, Hades, I did not have Theseus' weight to balance my punishment. I went so far down that I saw Kronos in the cell next to me before the abyss clouded my eyes," he paused for a moment, closing his eyes and reliving the moment. His hands shook, and his breath became labored. Hades thought he could hear the hero's heart beating from where he sat.

"Hercules had so angered Atlas that the Titan you put in charge of the chains saw no reason to give Hercules' remaining friend a reprieve," Rouvin continued. "I began to forget who I was down there. You have no idea the horrors of that pit."

Hades threw his chair back as he launched to his feet. "Don't I?" he asked as his hands slammed on the table. "Watch your claims, hero. You know not of what you speak!"

Rouvin threw his chair aside to mirror Hades' perch on the table's end. "If you knew the horrors of that place then how can you, in a right mind, subject others to it?"

Hades' lip snarled. "Punishments must be given for violation. I never violated. I never deserved the punishment that was given me."

"You conspired against the Titans! Your own father even!" Rouvin replied, with frothy spit sprayed as he shouted. "You even locked up your mother!"

"Did I?" asked Hades with a scoff. "Tell me, Rouvin, did you see Rhea in the depths when you were there? Ever?"

Rouvin had a brief moment of pause. "I... The scriptures say-"

Hades scoffed. "You know what my conspiracy was?" he asked, leaning further in. "Kronos imprisoned Hestia, and I thought I could free her. Breaking into Tartarus was nothing for me. I had done it before to question prisoners without Kronos' knowledge... but I sought out Demeter and Poseidon's counsel on the matter. Then I discovered that Demeter was pregnant with Poseidon's child... and then Kronos kicked in the door. So the paranoid Titan put all three of us in Tartarus for conspiracy to overthrow him. I had never made any such plans... not until I tasted the abyss of Tartarus myself."

"Sounds familiar," said Rouvin, glaring at the god. "I never would have chosen the path of heresy if you had not imprisoned me so unjustly."

Hades scoffed. "You were prepared to abduct my wife!"

"We had considered it," said Rouvin. "We had not done it. Just as you considered freeing your sister from Kronos' punishment. Consideration is not a crime."

"Except in your case, it was not consideration," Hades sneered. "You and Theseus had already abducted Helen."

Rouvin shook his head. "The legends are wrong. They were lovers. She had run away with him, and the two were to be married, but I had saved his life before. So he owed me a debt that he had to pay before he could be married."

"That debt was my wife?" asked Hades.

"The debt was rescuing my father!" barked Rouvin.

Hades paused. He blinked. "Ixion?" he recalled after a long moment. "What about-?" he began to ask but paused again. "You... You sought to abduct Persephone as leverage?"

Composing himself, Rouvin nodded. "You never bothered to ask our motivations. You only ever thought I was a rapist," he turned his head and scoffed. "You never considered that I was just a dutiful son."

Hades looked at his daughters. Rouvin's words were getting to them, but though they might be sympathetic, Hades knew his daughters would not betray their father. Recalling his lore, Hades believed that Pirithous had been a champion of Athena, receiving his first boon upon his birth by agreement with the goddess to bestow favor upon the royal family. When Zeus had Ixion cast into Tartarus, elevating his son to the title of King of the Lapiths in Thessaly, Zeus had given Pirithous a second boon.

If Athena's first boon had made Pirithous a hero, endowing him with great ability and talent, a second boon from Zeus could have made him a figurative son of Zeus, giving him some divine ability, perhaps a measure of Zeus' uncanny charisma. It was also possible that Zeus' boon could have replaced the heroic endowment, and Pirithous could be a chosen of Athena, with extraordinary ability in strategy. Either way, Hades would need to be careful with how he proceeded. The last thing he wanted to do was make a martyr of the hero in his daughters' eyes.

"Are you aware what your father did?" asked Hades, eyeing the hero.

"Does it matter?" asked Rouvin, looking across the table to Hades. Then, after a long pause, he approached the table side, walking closer to Makaria. "He was my father, and the gods sentenced him to Tartarus."

"He was a rapist," Hades retorted. "And a murderer."

Rouvin shrugged. "Says the gods," he paused and shook his head. His eyes then fell to Melinoë and Makaria. "My father did kill a man. That much is true. He fell in love with my mother and impregnated her. Then, making things right, he married her and made her his queen. However, because he had not paid the bride price to her father, another ancient king, this set off a feud. Horses were stolen, and servants killed. My father grew tired of this, so he decided to cut off this problem at its source. He invited his father-in-law over to settle this dispute. When my mother heard of my father's invitation, she became frightened. My father asked her what was the matter, and you know what she told him?"

Melinoë and Makaria were enthralled in this tale. Both shook their heads, their eyes locked on the storyteller.

"He had raped her," said Rouvin. "Her own father!"

Melinoë and Makaria gasped at the scandalous and horrific accusation. As goddesses, neither had any real fear of such violation ever being done to them, despite the mortals' sensationalizing of some tales to include the rampant rape of goddesses, but they were sympathetic to the female mortals who had endured a long history of such horrors. "How horrible," one said under their breath, though Hades could not discern which had uttered it.

"That was why she ran from home and came to the court of another king. She was escaping her father... the man her husband and protector had invited into her home," Rouvin explained. "That is why my father chose to kill the man, violating the rules of hospitality and invoking Zeus' wrath."

Hades shook his head. "Do not confuse the matter," he warned. "That is not why Zeus had ordered Ixion imprisoned in Tartarus."

Rouvin sighed and nodded. "That is correct. However, I was not yet finished," he said, continuing to walk about the table, passing Makaria and walking around the back of Hades, the god's eyes on him the whole time. "When he heard of what my father had done, Zeus had my father brought before him for judgment. When my father explained why he had done what he did, Zeus and Hera pardoned him. For the inconvenience of being brought before the gods, my father was invited to dine with the gods."

Hades furrowed his brow. He recalled the event, having been a member of the Twelve then, not yet having abdicated his throne as a wedding gift to Aphrodite.

"On the day of the dinner, Zeus seduced my mother," Rouvin explained. "And in retaliation, Hera seduced my father," he said, now strolling behind Melinoë. "Only thing my father did wrong was brag about it and embarrass Zeus. For that, Zeus sent him to Tartarus, so that he could never again spread the tale that he was a better feck than Zeus."

"No," said Hades, shaking his head. "Zeus did seduce your mother. That much is true. However, your father got angry about being made a cuckold, but he did not dare to speak out against the god who had pardoned him. So, he drowned his anger with mead."

Hades was careful to remember it was mead. Knowing he was a member of the Twelve at that time, his son Dionysus had not yet become the famed vintner he was best known for. In fact, Dionysus was not yet reborn and was still a young godling named Zagreus at the time of this tale.

"Hera saw your father's drunkenness and became concerned," Hades went on. "She approached Poseidon and me, who were watching your father intently. We told Hera why Ixion was drinking as he was. When Hera approached your father, intent on comforting him, he tried to force himself upon the goddess."

Rouvin stood there, half-turned toward Hades, shaking his head. "No, that's not how it-"

"I was there!" Hades barked. "I saw Hera throw your father into the wall of the Olympian throne room so hard it cracked the plaster of the mural," he said with a glare. "I saw Ares and Hephaestus wrestle their mother away as she tried to throw Ixion from the balcony. I grabbed your father and dragged him to my chariot to soothe Hera's rage."

Rouvin shook his head. "My father was not a rapist."

"Not for lack of trying," said Hades with a scoff. "I took him back to Thessaly and threw him on the streets of his kingdom. I told him to consider himself fortunate and left him there, but soon after, we would find Ixion on trial again."

Rouvin was glaring at Hades.

"He had wandered away from home in his drunken stupor that night," said Hades. "He had found a centaur sleeping in a nearby meadow. Her name was Nephele."

"No," Rouvin threw his hand dismissively toward the god as he walked back to his own chair and sat down. He shook his head. "This did not happen..."

"Nephele did not know he was a king. She thought he was a drunken fool muttering about how he wanted to feck Hera to teach Zeus a lesson," said Hades with a smirk. "So, Nephele had some fun with him."

Rouvin slammed his hands on the table. "This is a lie! You're lying!"

Hades grinned. "When Zeus was finished fecking your mother, Poseidon told him what happened with Ixion and Hera. So Zeus ordered Ixion brought before him to stand trial. So, I went back to find him. But, unfortunately, he wasn't where I left him... When I found him, he was prick-deep in Nephele," Hades said. "When she saw me, Nephele tried to stop, but Ixion grabbed a rock and hit her, shouting, *'I'm not done with you, Hera!'"*

Rouvin shook with rage.

"I pulled Ixion off her and saw he had already given her his seed," Hades said with a tone permeated with contempt. "I grabbed the rock from his head and damn near split his skull with it. I was surprised he survived long enough to be brought back to Olympus," Hades said, glaring at Rouvin. "I recall my brother sought to smite him with the Thunderbolt, but Hera demanded he is the first mortal sent to Tartarus instead."

"Nephele is a lying bitch," Rouvin said, shaking his head. "That didn't happen. Centaurs are the product of Kronos. You cannot trust them."

That racist statement caught the god off-guard, but then Hades recalled that Pirithous' early legends, often overshadowed by his plan to abduct Persephone and subsequent punishment, involved his war with the centaurs and later hunting the centaurs to near-extinction. This was revered by the mortals of Earth at the time because the centaurs were a hostile tribal people, created by Kronos, that often warred with the mortal kingdoms of Greece.

"I would ask Nephele to prove you wrong, but your father killed her," said Hades with a glare. "Her ghost has long since reincarnated. Without a heroic soul, her story has been lost to the waters of Lethe. So I shall speak on her behalf."

Rouvin scoffed and shook his head. "How convenient for your story," he paused to release a sigh. "Though I guess convenience has served you well to this point, hasn't it?"

Hades raised his eyebrow. "How so?"

"When you pardoned me, you know why I agreed?" asked Rouvin.

"For a second chance to make a better name for yourself," said Hades, nodding.

"No," Rouvin said, shaking his head. "It was because you were freeing other heroes in Tartarus, too. My father included."

"It was a blanket pardon," said Hades. "The Six had decided that it should be done. Any hero willing to fight for the Pantheon and secure Elysium was to be given a pardon. I did not free you or your father. That was the decision of the Six. Myself, my brothers, and my sisters," he said, not admitting that there were votes against such a decision.

"Be that as it may be," said Rouvin, "I do admit, your promise of a second chance was also with merit. But unfortunately, it was not until the fourth life that I was able to reunite with my friend and conspire to make things right, but... by that time, our old legend had solidified in the hearts of Elysians and been written into scripture. So some second chance, huh?" he said with a scoff.

"Your legend is written into the fabric of the tapestry of worship," said Melinoë. "If we removed your tale, then you would not be part of the hero worship of the Faith. Your heroic soul would lose its divine spark. You would become truly mortal..."

Makaria nodded, agreeing with her sister. "We did you a favor."

"Your legend comes with the territory of being a hero," said Hades. "You think we gave out boons solely as shiny gifts?" he asked with a chuckle. "It was an agreement," he said with an expressionless face. "You would use these gifts to woo and amaze mortals and turn their thoughts to the glory of the gods. Even if the mortals began to worship you, the boon ensured that the worship became ours."

Rouvin scoffed. "You didn't have to tell the same story. The Elysians did not need to know the truth. You could have given all of the heroes a better chance to be redeemed."

Makaria shook her head. "Not all Elysians enjoy the happy, shiny tales. Many find beauty in the tragic and twisted. Your legend is wrought with darkness... It appeals to some. It even appeals to me on some notes..."

Hades was not thrilled by his daughter's words, but he did his best not to express such. She had made a good point, and he would not speak out to undermine her point simply for the last admission. Pushing aside his deviant thought, the god returned to the moment. "You expected us to sell the Elysians on a lie?"

"Why not?" asked Rouvin. "You cleaned up Hercules' story."

Hades scoffed. "That is not our doing," said the god. "You were in the clergy. Did you not read the scripture as it is written of Hercules?"

Rouvin also scoffed. "Only the clergy read the scripture anymore. The doctrine that matters is the famous stories of entertainment. The bard machines sing songs of watered-down doctrine that paint Hercules as an epic hero whose adventures did not stop with the Exodus. Hell, most Elysians don't even know of the Exodus! They assume these stories of a bygone era are Ancient Elysium, not some foreign world or a land called Greece or Rome... whatever that place was," Rouvin said, reminding the god and goddesses that he had been in Tartarus during the days of the Olympians' control of Roman religion.

"Shall I commission Homer to write a..." Hades snapped his fingers and looked at his daughters. "What are they called... The innovation in Thespiae?" asked Hades.

Makaria smiled. "I believe they're called screenplays, father."

Hades nodded as he clapped his hands together and pointed to Rouvin. "Shall I commission a screenplay? 'The *True* Adventures of Pirithous!'" he asked, motioning his hand over the table as he envisioned the imagined marquee of the theater.

"Why not?" asked Rouvin with a smirk. "Your son is the God of Theater. So you could easily make it happen. First, maybe you should workshop the title a bit..." he said with a scoff and a chuckle.

"No," said Hades, dropping the facade of his amusement with this conversation. "You want to be a hero worthy of epic songs, then you go out and earn it."

Rouvin smiled. "I plan on doing just that," he said, breaking away from the table and walking toward a side door, likely leading to the kitchen. "When I'm done, I'm going to be bigger than Jason..." he paused and glared at the god. "You know, I died in the initial Convergence wars. Twice... Both times I sacrificed myself for your cause, and you know it amounted to?" he asked with a scoff. "Footnotes. Historical footnotes that no one recalls. They aren't even in the scripture. When my name does turn up in the history books, people are shocked. They go *'Isn't he still in Tartarus? Hmm... Must be another Pirithous,'"* Rouvin said, shaking his head. "That is my legacy! That is what you did to me!"

"So what is your plan?" asked Hades. "How will you be bigger than Jason? You think the Broken Book is your ticket to fame and fortune?"

Makaria shook her head. "The Broken Book is a sinking ship," she said. "They will fall just as the Delian League did a hundred years ago."

Rouvin smirked. "Maybe, not if we have anything to say about that."

"We?" asked Hades, who saw Rouvin's eyes focus on something or someone behind the god. Then, spinning around, Hades snatched the cloche from in front of Makaria and used it to deflect the incoming blast from a carbine.

The slug tore through the silver cloche and tore a path across the god's knuckles with its adamant casing. Hades let out a roar of pain as he hurled his Bident toward the attacker. Unfortunately, the pain offset his aim, and the attack missed, sending the weapon over the masked man's shoulder and embedding it in the wall of the hallway they had entered from.

The assassin readied a second shot, aiming for Melinoë, whose focus was on the table, staring at Makaria's exposed plate. Hades bolted for the assailant and stepped into the path to protect his daughter as he did. The steam-powered carbine fired a second shot, hitting the god in the chest. The adamant slug and the wave of concussive force that propelled it from the barrel launched the god backward, knocking him off his feet.

As Hades stared at the ceiling, he heard the masked mortal and Rouvin's footsteps flee as Makaria and Melinoë ran to aid their father.

"Father!" screamed Melinoë, clutching her father's wound, his ichor causing her gloves to smolder. "Don't die! Please, father, don't die!"

Makaria shook her head, tears streaming from her eyes. "He can't die. He's the God of Death... The God of Death can't die, right?"

Hades' thoughts contemplated that irony as his hands each found his daughters' arms and weakly clutched them. Then, clenching his teeth, Hades growled. "Not like this," he said, shaking his head. "Please, not like this..." he rambled as his eyes rolled back and consciousness drifted from his mind.

## Characters

### Gods

* Hades
* Melinoe
* Makaria
* Hypnos

### Heroes

* Alekos
* Rouvin