Chapter Twenty One

## Twenty One

The sky was a dull orange as her fingertips plucked the flowered fruit from the tree. Brushing it on her sleeve first, Persephone gave the Stygian pomegranate a soft squeeze. Then, smiling, she handed it to her daughter. "Here you go, Achlys."

The godling took the fruit, gave it a quick sniff, and dropped it into the basket she had slung on her side. Achlys then scurried to keep pace with her mother's long legs.

The mother and daughter were leaving the orchard on the east side of their palace's grounds when they heard the moan of an ox pulling a wagon toward the palace's service bay. Curious, they approached the advancing beast and the driver that held its reins. As the wagon came to a stop, Menoetes climbed down from where the simple bench and motioned to his wagon's payload. "Got a fresh delivery of Ambrosia for the stores."

Persephone smiled as she approached. "I see that," she said as nymphs and souls appeared to unload the wagon.

The god grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and gave his brow a wipe. "I noticed no steeds in the stable on my way in," he said with a grin. "The boss still away?"

Persephone nodded, but it was her daughter, Achlys, who answered the god's question. "My father is away slaying heretics."

The god smirked. "Slaying heretics, is he?" he asked with a chuckle. "How exciting," he said, climbing up the side of his wagon to grab a tall bronze canister by its handle. Effortlessly, he swung it onto his shoulder and then hopped down to the packed dirt path his wagon was parked on. He strolled up to the queen with ease, standing head and shoulders over the souls and nymphs around him, each struggling to carry their own canisters. "Seems like the boss has been doing that a lot lately."

Persephone sighed and nodded.

Achlys imitated her mother, only more pronounced and dramatic. "It's a growing concern these days," she said, doing her best to sound mature but only coming across as absolutely adorable instead.

Chuckling, Menoetes put his hand on the godling's hand and rustled her hair. "I'll just go put in the kitchen, shall I?" he said as he strutted off to do as he said.

As the Underworld's resident cattle rustler and Ambrosia farmer made his way to the service entrance, Persephone placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder. Her mind drifted to thoughts of how fond of Menoetes she had grown since she had first met him.

The god was created as a partial facsimile of the Titan Iapetos and raised as the Titan's son. Following the Olympians' ascent to power, Iapetos and his children attempted to destabilize the Olympians before they could consolidate their claims to the Titans' former reign. While his brothers Prometheus and Epimetheus were stealing the Empyrean Flame and kidnapping Hestia, Menoetes accompanied his father to talk with Zeus and other gods. When Hermes informed Zeus of the intrusion, Menoetes attacked Artemis and Apollo. However, before the Titan's son could land a blow on either twin, Zeus smote him with his Thunderbolt.

Iapetos and Prometheus were captured and thrown into Tartarus. Epimetheus would fall victim to another failed attempt to defeat the gods. All seemed right in the world. Then, hundreds of years later, Menoetes' soul eventually reformed and made its way to the Underworld. While trying to avoid paying Charon or avoid judgment, Menoetes tried to swim the Archeron himself, a feat that not even most gods could accomplish. He likely had plans to swim to the mouth of Tartarus, but he only made it as far as the Stygian Marsh before being swept out to the River of Lethe.

Hades found him washed up on the shores of the Lethe, the vast majority of his memories washed away. Taking pity on the wretched god, Hades chose to give him a second chance and gave him a job. Since that day, Menoetes had tended to Hades' cattle, taking over after the troublesome hero Hercules killed Hades' previous herdsmen and stole the cattle.

Menoetes took well to the job. His loss of memories, the humbling experience of death, or a combination of the two had made him a much more stable and capable being. When Hercules returned to the Underworld again, this time to kidnap Cerberus, he tried to wrangle one of Hades' cows to use for bait, but Menoetes fought the hero, protecting the cattle and source of Ambrosia for most of the Underworld's Stygian gods.

A loud sound snapped Persephone back to the present as two nymphs dropped a canister and spilled a quarter of its Ambrosia before righting the canister and securing its lid. As they hustled to clean the mess, Persephone approached and waved them off. "I'll take care of this. Just get the Ambrosia into the basement storehouse... and try not to spill anymore."

"Yes, my queen," said the taller of the two nymphs as they picked up the canister and went away.

Achlys approached and shook her head. Then, as her tongue clicked, she let out a sigh. "Shame to see such good Ambrosia go to waste."

"Indeed," said Persephone as she untied the apron from her waist. Then, using the apron as a towel, she knelt and wiped the puddle into nothing. "No use crying over spilled milk, though," she said with a soft giggle to herself.

Watching her mother, Achlys raised an eyebrow at the curious expression. "Pardon?"

Persephone got back to her feet and sighed. "It's just something our cousin Hermes says," she explained. "It means there is no point is being so sad about something that can't be undone. Just clean it up and move on."

Achlys blinked. "Oh, but..." she looked at the damp ground where a puddle once was found. "That was Ambrosia," she said, looking back at her mother, "not milk."

Persephone giggled. "Ambrosia is still milk," she explained with a smirk. "It's just... magic milk," she said in simple terms.

"Magic milk?" asked Achlys. "Wait, are you saying that if I drink more Ambrosia I could be magic, too?" she asked with bright eyes.

Persephone tapped her daughter's nose as the two walked toward the palace. "My silly child. You are magic."

"Not like Ysus, Meli, or Mak," replied Achlys, using her nicknames for her much older siblings. "They've got all these incredible powers. I can't do any of that."

Persephone sighed as she tossed her soiled apron into a basket of dirty rags prepared for laundering. "Some of that will come with time, Achlys," said the mother as she focused her attention on her daughter once more. "Part of that is owed to their purviews."

"Perverts?" asked Achlys.

Persephone shook her head. "Purviews. Unique magical gifts given to them by the Twelve."

"The Twelve," Achlys said, tapping her chin. "Like the Twelve that Grandfather Po and Grandmother Dem are part of?"

"Exactly," said Persephone, nodding. "When you are old enough to be endowed with your own purview, you might be given one or two. However, until then, you should remember to drink your Nektar and eat Ambrosia so you can grow just as strong as your siblings. Only the strongest gods are given a purview."

With a couple nods, Achlys seemed to be taking in her mother's words and pondering their meaning. Then, with a groan, the godling set her basket on a nearby tool chest. Finally, she climbed a wooden fence, straddling the top board. "Mother..."

"Yes, daughter?" asked Persephone, leaning on the nearby fencepost

"There aren't enough purviews to give every god one?" Achlys asked.

Persephone shook her head. "Unfortunately not," she said with a soft smile.

"It seems to me that it would be fairer if every god only had one," Achlys said. "I mean, how many do you have?"

Persephone eyed her daughter curiously. "Only giving each god one purview is not as fair as it seems on the surface. Not every purview is created equal. Some are truly powerful, and others are pretty weak. For instance, one of your father's purviews makes him the God of the Dead. Another makes him the God of Wealth. Those are exciting things that each come with a tremendous amount of responsibility. Meanwhile, do you know what your brother's first purview was?"

"What?" asked Achlys with a big silly grin as her eyes lit up.

Persephone leaned closer. "God of Mirth."

 *"Merf?"* asked Achlys, raising her eyebrow and twisting her flexible face into a curious expression that brought a giggle to her mother.

Smiling, Persephone nodded. "Mirth," she said, enunciating more clearly. "It means 'amusement' or 'laughter,'" Persephone explained as her fingertips tickled her daughter's belly.

Erupting into laughter, Achlys swatted her mother's hands away with one hand as the other grabbed the board she sat on to maintain her balance. Once she composed herself, she kept smiling and nodded. "Ysus is always funny. He's a good god to be the God of *Mirph.*"

Persephone sighed. "Yes, but he wasn't always so funny... When you take on a purview, it changes you a little. Being the God of Mirth made your brother funnier and happier, but if he had become the God of Sorrow..."

"Like Mak?" asked Achlys.

Persephone nodded. "Your brother would be very different if he were the god of such things. Especially when he was first given a purview. I doubt he'd be all that fun to be around."

"I like Mak, though," Achlys said with a smile. "She's fun."

"Right, because she was a better choice for that purview," explained Persephone. "Joining a god to a purview is not about giving every one of us a purview; it's about giving the proper purview to the right god. Could you imagine me being the Goddess of Smithing?"

Achlys giggled and shook her head. "No... That would be funny, though."

"So funny," Persephone said with a smile and a nod. "I'd have to drink a lot of Ambrosia to be as big and strong as Hephaestus."

"You'd need some new dresses, too," said Achlys with a silly grin. "Wait, is that how Hephaestus got to be so big? Ambrosia?"

Persephone shrugged. "I'm sure it helped. I mean, it definitely helped Hercules."

Achlys raised an eyebrow. "The hero?"

Persephone nodded. "Hero and demigod," she said with a smile. "But Hercules was not with his strength. He got it when Hera nursed him when he was a baby. He drank so much of her Ambrosia that he became strong... Hephaestus and Ares both drank for those teats, too, so Hera must have some really good Ambrosia."

"Ambrosia comes from teats?" asked Achlys, blinking and looking more confused with each flutter of her eyelids.

Persephone nodded. "Yeah, any milk from a divine being, whether goddess or a divine cow, is Ambrosia," explained the goddess, cupping a hand over her clothed breast. "I nursed you from these *kasabas*."

Achlys leaned forward and let out a sigh. "Did my siblings drink all the good stuff from them?"

Scoffing, Persephone shook her head. "No. My stuff is probably better than any of that Menoetes brings us. I'm a fertility goddess, child. The essence in my Ambrosia is top shelf. You remember that."

Letting out a long sigh, Achlys nodded. "I just want to be as important as my brother and sisters."

Sighing, the mother put her hand on her daughter's knee. "You listen to me, child. You are important. You're the most important person in my life. You remember that, okay?"

Achlys nodded. After a long moment, she glanced at her mother's bosom and then met her mother's gaze again. "If your Ambrosia is so good, mother, why do we need Menoetes?"

Persephone laughed aloud. She folded her arms, tucking her forearms against her breasts as she composed herself. "Well, nursing a child takes a lot out of a mother. If I were supplying the entire Underworld's deities, I wouldn't have time to take care of you, much less run a kingdom. Now would I?" she said with a giggle. "Also, I don't fancy being strapped into all those machines on Menoetes' ranch. They look... *painful.*"

"Machines?" asked Achlys. "What kind of machines?"

"Clockwork pumps and such," said Persephone with a shrug. "Honestly, you'd be better served asking Menoetes or Hephaestus to explain it, daughter," she said with a smile. "I'm a fertility goddess, not a factory goddess."

"Are they like the machines in the east wing?" asked Achlys.

"What machines would those be?" asked Persephone, raising an eyebrow.

"The ones in you and father's special room," explained the child.

Biting her lip, Persephone flared her nostrils and stalled for time as her eyes darted about her environment, looking for something to steer her daughter's attention.

As Persephone searched for a distraction, Achlys continued. "When you and father go in there, I hear scary sounds."

"Oh, look!" said Persephone, pushing off the fence with haste and pointing toward the wagon. Then, as if answering the goddess' prayers, two members of Zeus' throne guard, Bia and Zelos, approached. In tow was a third figure bound in chains of adamant and orichalcum.

After noticing the chains, Persephone hung back and caught her daughter as she scrambled to see what her mother had drawn her attention toward. "Easy, child," she said, cautioning Achlys. "These are our uncle Zeus' guards... They may not be the most friendly gods."

Achlys glanced at her mother, then looked back at the three approaching figures. Then, squinting, she did her best to identify each one. "Did Menoetes do something wrong?"

"Pardon?" asked Persephone.

"The one chained," said Achlys, "he looks like Menoetes."

Now, giving the prisoner a second glance, Persephone saw what her daughter was speaking about. The goddess' mind quickly made sense of the strange resemblance she was confronted with. Then, realizing the prisoner's identity, she tapped her daughter on the shoulder. "Why don't you take that basket of fruit we picked inside. See if Minthe will prepare you a bowl of seeds."

Achlys scoffed. "I want to know what Menoetes did to deserve being put in chains," she said with a bold tone. "I bet he didn't do anything wrong and our uncle's guardians are just being mean."

"Listen to your mother," said Persephone, giving her daughter a light swat on the rump and gently shoving her toward the palace.

Shaking her head and pouting, the godling strolled away as she was told to do so. She grabbed the basket and slung its attached strap over her shoulder. As she pushed her way into the service entrance door, she entered the castle with a dramatic stomping of her feet.

As the door slammed shut behind her, Persephone stepped forward. She scoffed and folded her arms as they came in earshot. "Well, if it isn't the clever Prometheus... It figures you'd escape while my husband is otherwise occupied."

The prisoner chuckled, flashing a wicked grin at the goddess.

"Wait," said Persephone, realizing that the imprisoned god was not who she had thought. Instead, he had more weathered skin than he should and a duller look about his eyes. Her next thought was Atlas, but he lacked that brother's sheer size and power. "Epimetheus?"

"Yes," said Zelos with a small Underworld reed clenched between his teeth. The blonde god eyed Persephone for a moment, enjoying the view of the goddess, but he composed himself with a nudge from his sister. Clearing his throat, Zelos glanced to the prisoner and then back to the Queen of the Underworld. "It turns out that the bastard ain't as dead as we all hoped."

Persephone glanced at Menoetes' wagon nearby. Then, wanting to avoid a family reunion, she motioned her head toward the palace. "Let us talk inside."

"No need," said Bia, shaking her head. "We just need to the Warden."

"The Warden is hunting heretics," said Persephone.

Zelos sighed. "Did he leave the keys with someone else?"

Persephone nodded. "Hecate has them."

"Then she's the Warden," said Zelos. "Could you fetch her for us?"

Persephone nodded. "I will if we take this inside," she said. "It could take a while. I suggest we put him in the dungeon until she can be found."

Bia gave Zelos a nod, and the two stepped forward to follow the queen's lead.

A few minutes later, the door slammed shut with the chained god secured in a small cell of stygian steel bars. As the god settled into the corner, slumping against the wall and lowering himself to the floor, the queen snapped her fingers and caught the attention of a passing nymph dressed in a maid's uniform.

"May I help you, my queen?" asked the maid, poking her head into the dungeon and glancing at the prisoner. Then, not recognizing him, she quickly gave her full attention to Persephone.

"Bring Hecate here and make sure she has the keys to Tartarus," said Persephone with her hands on her hips. She was still dressed in fruit-picking clothes and had assumed the more authoritative posturing to help remind people she was still the queen and her words should be taken as such.

The maid nodded and scampered away. "Right away, my queen," she had said as she had disappeared.

"What's he doing on Elysium?" asked Persephone, glancing back at the prisoner. When the prisoner said nothing, her eyes drifted to Bia.

Shrugging, Bia stepped up to a wall and rested her back against it. "He's not talking, and no one seems to have much of an idea."

Persephone folded her arms. "When he married Pandora, he was an old and crotchety bastard. Now he looks younger... What's his secret?"

"That might be due to some nasty concoction he's been drinking," said Zelos. "Nektar mixed with ichor."

"Ichor?" asked Persephone, raising an eyebrow. "Whose ichor? His own?" she asked, then paused. Recalling an encounter with heretics several years ago, Persephone released a soft gasp. "Has he been slaughtering nymphs, too?"

Bia shook her head. "Doesn't seem like it. We think he was using Pandora's clockwork heart," she said. "Probably pouring Nektar into it and drinking the mix of false ichor it pumps out."

"Though it wouldn't surprise me if this bastard was in bed with the heretics," said Zelos. "Maybe he told them about this nasty cocktail of his and they've been bleeding nymphs and satyrs to homebrew it?"

Bia scoffed. "I don't think that's happening," she said, shaking her head. "We'd be seeing monstrous Pandorians popping up if they did. They're not exactly subtle things."

"He's managed to stay hidden for thousands of years," Zelos said, motioning to the prisoner. "Pandorians can be crafty things when they want to."

"Pandorians?" asked Persephone. She knew she had heard the term before, but it had been some time, and the goddess was never quite confident she knew what it meant. "I'm sorry, but could someone remind me what we are talking about?"

Zelos repositioned his reed. "The blood of Pandora's heart causes mutations to those who drink it. They gain immortality and feral strength."

"And can grow claws, fangs, and change into a monstrous form," added Bia. "They're not pretty when they get mad."

Epimetheus made their point for them as his face transformed into a wicked grin with his cheek splitting open to bear black skin that formed into elongated fangs of the same darkened flesh. As his grin dropped, black webbed veins spread across his face before they slowly faded.

Persephone watched all this with a great deal of concern.

"Pers," said Zelos.

Persephone glanced to the throne guard, who was motioning his head toward the door behind her. As the queen shuffled around, she saw her daughter standing in the doorway with Menoetes standing behind her. With a startled gasp, Persephone approached the two. "Achlys, what are you doing?"

"Mother!" said Achlys with a big grin. "Menoetes isn't in trouble! I found him talking to Minthe. Then I mentioned the god who looked like him and I wanted to show him."

Persephone sighed. "Achlys, you need to not be here-"

Menoetes stepped around the tiny princess and her mother. He approached the cell but found his path blocked by a scowling Zelos. "What... What is happening here?" asked the god, looking over Zelos' shoulder to the god in the cell.

Though the prisoner showed no interest in what was happening outside his cell, he scrambled to his feet once he saw the face peering over the guard's shoulder. Then, running into the bars with his chains rattling loudly, Epimetheus reached his hand out. "Brother, you live?!"

Menoetes took a step back. "Brother?"

Epimetheus glanced at Bia, then to Persephone. As he contemplated how his brother yet lived, he sniffed the air. "You were exalted?"

"No," said Menoetes, shaking his head. "I was reincarnated by the grace of Hades..."

Epimetheus raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but it soon soured into a fierce scowl. "You work for the enemy?"

Menoetes folded his well-defined arms. "I work for my king and serve his family."

Epimetheus grabbed the bars as black webbed veins appeared on his skin. He howled a monstrous sound as his chains rattled against the bars, causing Achlys to cling to her mother in fear. With a scoff, Zelos turned to face the prisoner. The guard made a fist and swung for the top of the chained god's head, but the son of Iapetos was quicker than expected. As he evaded the blow, he caught the forearm and wrapped it in his chains as he threw his weight toward the back of the cell.

Slammed into the bars, Zelos let out an agonized cry.

"Feck!" shouted Bia as she quickly ran to Persephone and snatched the keys to the cell from her. Then, she ran back to the cell door and unlatched it. Moments later, she wrapped her arm around the prisoner's neck and pushed him toward the front of the cell before he tore her brother's arm from its socket.

Epimetheus's hair turned as black as tar with a fierce growl and then grew into sharp barbs and horns at the back of his head. Then, smacking his head into Bia's face, the god released his grip on Zelos and ran backward, pinning Bia between him and the rear wall of the dungeon.

With her flesh gashed and torn, Bia's ichor poured down her brow and blinded her. She fumbled blindly to push the prisoner away from her. When she found the leverage she needed, she slipped away and landed on the cell floor with a pained grunt.

However, Bia's escape was not entirely her own doing. Epimetheus seemed ready for it and quickly bolted out of the cell as the goddess fell to the floor. Then, with Zelos still nursing his wrenched shoulder, Epimetheus could escape his confinement and charge Persephone and the frightened Achlys.

With each step, the son of Iapetos became more aggressively feral and unrecognizable, with his fingers extending into wicked claws and his entire face disappearing into the ferocious maw of a living nightmare.

Persephone grabbed her daughter and turned to flee the room when suddenly, out of the corner of her perception, the goddess saw the creature that had been Epimetheus moments ago slammed into the wall.

With the brutal strength of a god who wrestled massive aurochs daily, Menoetes grabbed his brother after body-checking him into the wall. Ignoring the feral creature's frantic scratches that tore the fabric of his shirt and vest to shreds, Menoetes smashed the monster to the floor, wrangled the mess of limbs, and pulled them taut with a firm grip on the chains. Then, as the nightmare let out a cry of pain, the rustling god stomped his foot between the creature's shoulder blades.

As Persephone tried to usher her daughter away, Achlys fought the guidance. She was in awe of Menoetes and threw one hand up in celebratory praise. "Yes!" cried Achlys.

Persephone sighed as she saw Zelos and Bia both moving to take their prisoner back into custody.

Before the throne guard could take charge of the situation, Menoetes drew a knife from his belt. It was the same adamant knife he used in his ranch work, and now it was placed on Epimetheus' neck. The rustler looked up to his queen. "Just say the word," he said with a firm tone.

Persephone glanced to the throne guard before giving her vassal the slightest shake of her head.

Menoetes put the blade away and pulled his brother back to his feet. The black webbing had begun to fade, leaving a sweat-soaked place where the monster had been moments ago. Then, with a growl, Menoetes slammed his brother against the wall. Then, grabbing his brother's tunic and leaning in close, Menoetes snarled. "When you think of this moment again, you remember it was the wife of Hades that spared you my wrath."

Scoffing, Epimetheus shook his head. "I thought you were my brother... Yet, you choose the traitor gods over your own family..."

Menoetes blinked. With a heavy breath, he threw his chained brother toward the throne guards who caught him. "I don't remember much of who I was," he admitted. "But I wonder if some things are worth forgetting."

Epimetheus growled.

"I don't know who I was," Menoetes said, lightly shaking his head. "I only know who I am now... and I'm not someone attacks a child... even the child of my enemy," he said with a glare at his brother. "If you think we're brothers, then you are sorely mistaken."

Achlys stepped forward before her mother's hand restrained her. Still, she dramatically nodded and blew her tongue toward the prisoner.

With a hint of a grin, Menoetes turned to face Persephone. "I'm sorry for having caused this. Allow me to take Achlys under my care while you see to this nasty business?"

Persephone nodded. "Thank you, Menoetes."

Scoffing, Achlys shook her head. "No! I want to go to Tartarus."

Hearing those words, Persephone recalled the last words Zagreus had ever said to her. *"Mother, I'm going to Tartarus with father! I'll see you soon!"*

The next thought to pop into the queen's head was the dreadful sight of her husband stumbling into the throne room, a mix of tears and ichor smeared on his face and clothes. In his arms was the mangled body of their son. As Persephone walked toward him, his bloodshot eyes found her gaze. His lips trembled, and no words escaped his lips. If any had, Persephone could not hear them; the only sound she recalled at that moment was that of her heart breaking.

"No!" snapped Persephone as she grabbed her daughter's hand and slipped it into the hand of Menoetes. Then, with a finger pointed at her daughter's brow and a heated glare, Persephone shook her head. "Don't ever ask me that again! Do you understand me?"

As Achlys' lips trembled, Hecate appeared in the doorway. "Uh..." said the newly arrived dark goddess. "Someone call for some keys?" she asked with a nervous grin, jingling the keys to Tartarus in one hand.

"I hate you!" barked Achlys as she stomped her foot and made a mad dash out of the room, pushing past Hecate in her departure.

Persephone sighed, but she did not need to say anything. Menoetes was already out the door chasing down her daughter. "Well, that will be fun to deal with later..."

Lowering the keys where they disappeared in a flash of purple and black flame, Hecate stepped up to Persephone, placing a hand on the other goddess' shoulder. "She doesn't hate you. Children are awful creatures. They often say the harshest things sometimes... especially to their parents."

Blinking, Persephone found herself getting maternal advice from a goddess that she would never have expected to be doing so.

"Let's get this over with," said Persephone with a sigh, marching past the Goddess of Witchcraft and waving for the throne guard to follow. "Come on. Tartarus calls to be fed a new prisoner and I long for the day that I will forget the name Epimetheus..."

## Characters

### Gods

* Persephone
* Achlys
* Bia
* Zelos
* Hecate

### Titans

* Menoetes
* Epimetheus