The Immortal Heart

A/N: usmorgan, I'm afraid Hades' newfound happiness won't last long. Prepare for more drama, folks!


Chapter 23

Demeter had long since discovered that she preferred to go outside and gather herbs and plants during nighttime with only the moon- and starlight to guide her. Granted, a lone goddess had to keep up her guard to avoid attacks not only by wild animals but also other children of Gaia that did not share Demeter’s respect for all things living.

Aware of the dangers but disregarding them nonetheless, the goddess continued her nightly excursions against her youngest brother’s will. A walking stick with one sharp end was her only weapon, and Demeter figured it sufficed more than well if something approached her with intent to cause harm.

She worked much faster during nighttime, which could not offer the numerous distractions of the daytime world, and in less than two hours, the goddess had found everything she’d been looking for and stored it in her bag. It was time to head home and get some well-deserved sleep before the break of dawn.

The fortress was in sight when she heard something behind her. The rustling of leaves could have been anything, from the wind knocking over a branch to a bird taking off through the foliage. But the sound which followed left Demeter frightened: voices.

The individuals muttering orders to one another in deep, thunderous tones were unfamiliar in identity, but Demeter knew they had to belong to titans. The goddess quickly scrambled into the bushes, hiding herself and hoping that she had not been sensed.

Hushed voices came, though still resonating, to make the others shut their mouths, as they passed by, and Demeter could have sworn their footsteps made the ground tremble beneath her.

“Hurry,” one of them growled, “dawn approaches and we must strike while they sleep.”

Demeter’s eyes widened at the words spoken. As she poked her head out from the foliage just enough to see the destination of her feared adversaries, her heart sank. The titans were headed straight for the Olympian fortress.

*

Hades felt bliss like none other when he slept beside someone else, especially when the one sharing his bed was Zeus. In their sleep somehow the two gods had parted from one another, and the smaller of the two half-awoke to find himself chilled by the absence of his brother’s body. Just conscious enough to scoot himself closer, he fell back asleep the moment he was nestled up against Zeus’ strong, warm form.

Less than an hour later, Hades was awakened once more, but this time the reason was not related to temperature. Zeus sat up, rigid as a tightly wound spring, thus forcing his brother into an upright position as well. The reason for his rude awakening was a deafening rumble followed closely by the entire fortress shaking.

Hades’ first thought was that the earth had split open and threatened to devour them, as it had once before shortly after Zeus freed his siblings from their father.

“Zeus?” Hades cried out, terror keeping him riveted to the spot in his bed, spasmodically hugging fistfuls of the sheet against his chest.

His younger brother’s paralysis did not last nearly as long. Zeus was on his feet within seconds after the first tremble awoke them, and Hades watched in silence as the Olympian leader hastily dressed and then started looking around for something.

“Damn all of this!” Zeus growled upon realizing that he was in his brother’s quarters and thus did not have access to his weapons. “Hades, do not just sit there! Get on your feet!”

“Zeus, what is going on?!”

The younger god’s response was cut short by another horrific blow against their home, this time powerful enough to almost knock Zeus’ feet from under him.

“Has the earth opened up?”

“The mother earth has nothing to do with this!” Zeus bellowed at his brother, reaching to grab the petrified god and physically jerk him out of bed. “We are under attack!”

Just as he spoke, both gods heard a horrible crack above them. Looking up, they saw the ceiling beginning to split in two. Hades could barely find time to react before his brother had done it for him, grabbing him by the arm with one hand, his robes in the other hand, and pulling him from his living quarters before the whole structure could come down upon their heads.

“Quickly!” Zeus shouted as he raced down the halls with Hades still in his grasp. “Find a way out. Find your sisters and get them out of here!”

Hades could not argue. Zeus was already out of sight, obviously in search of Poseidon. Struggling to move quicker than his state of shock would allow, he hurried to the door of Hestia’s quarters.

“HESTIA!” he shouted, banging his fist against the door. “DEMETER! Sisters, are you there??”

“I am here!” Hestia’s voice called back. “Stand aside!”

Hades did so and within seconds he heard a thud as the door shuddered with the impact of the goddess’ body. Her door opened from the inside and seemed to be jammed in the slowly collapsing structure of the attacked fortress, but on the second time, Hestia succeeded. The door broke open and the goddess staggered out, coughing on dust and grit.

“Is Demeter with you?” Hades immediately found himself asking her as he held her steady. “Is she hurt?”

Hestia shook her head. “She left in the night to gather herbs. I don’t know where she is.”

“Come quickly,” the god said, leading her through the hallway. “We need to find our sisters and leave before this whole place caves in on us.

Just as brother and sister made it to a balcony, ready to jump down to the safety of outside, a blinding light landed upon the ground. The heat of the furious blaze drew both of the Olympians back, their arms out and eyes watering from the fire’s searing warmth.

“We have to find another way,” Hestia said. “The flames are too close, and will get closer still.”

Hades was not too worried about Zeus or Poseidon; his brothers had fought in battles against the Titans before and were fully capable of looking after themselves. The one he was concerned for was Demeter. Out wandering by herself, the goddess was an easy target, and Hades had no way of knowing her whereabouts or if she was even alive anymore.

Holding Hestia by the hand, Hades hurriedly led his sister toward the nearest exit, but the goddess suddenly stopped him and refused to move on before they had tried to locate Hera as well.

“Her living quarters are just around the corner,” she insisted. “We have to see if she’s there!”

“Sister…!” Hades objected, wanting to point out that Hera had been awoken by the commotion just as rest of them and most likely left to search for an exit of her own long ago. “Hestia, there is no time…!”

The goddess, however, had already rounded the corner by the time Hades voiced his objection, and he saw no other choice except to follow her, remembering Zeus’ orders.

“Hera! Hera, are you in there?!” Hestia’s panicked, high-pitched voice, now hoarse from screaming and inhaling of dust and smoke received no response, and when Hades arrived to push the door open, the sight that greeted them was a burning but empty bedchamber with a large hole in the anterior wall. A rock doused in oil had been thrown into Hera’s quarters and started a fire, which was quickly spreading from the floor to walls and furniture.

“She isn’t here!” Hades shouted at the panic-stricken goddess. “Let’s move on!” They had to find a way out before the fortress either collapsed from the blows or a fire cut off all their escape routes.

*

Outside, Zeus and Poseidon fought alongside one another in a counterattack against their monstrous foes. They did not have much in the way of weapons against the three titans which stood before them, towering over them like old trees. However, both gods were skilled in combat, and the swords they held gleamed in the light like the fire which now threatened their fortress.

Though the titans did not bring weapons of their own in the most conventional sense, they had size and muscle on their side, and could easily improvise weapons from boulders and logs. While two kept the gods preoccupied, their comrade continued to hurl rocks at the abode.

“We need to put them at a disadvantage,” Zeus cried to his brother.

The youngest Olympian ducked a huge fist which nearly clubbed him where he stood. His head would have been crushed from even the laziest of blows from this brute. Poseidon was desperate to think of a plan of action as he swung in vain at his opponent. Zeus was right; the titans needed to be slowed down or put in a position where they could no longer protect themselves. If only… if only…

“If only you stayed in one place,” Poseidon muttered as an idea came to him. “Zeus!” he called. “Can you come closer??”

“We need them separate!” his brother called back.

“Not anymore…” the elder god said, concentrating. He allowed the titan he fought to get closer, risking his own life in order to distract the gigantic creature from his plan. It worked. The titan, arrogant and dull-witted, thought he was winning the fight, not once noticing the mud increasing beneath his feet.

“Any other bright ideas?” Zeus asked as he joined his brother, doubtful of what the brilliant plot could have been.

The second titan joined his compatriot, thinking that together the two brutes would have the battle won… only to find his legs struggling in the earth. The first took a step forward as well and was equally puzzled to discover himself sinking.

“Any wetter and they’ll go completely under,” Poseidon said as he and his brother watched the titans struggle to lift their feet in the muck.

With two of the attackers incapacitated at least for the time being, Zeus was quick to divert his attention to the third one still hurling burning rocks against their home. Had Hades and his sisters made it out yet? Either way, the titan had to be stopped, or the Olympians would soon not have a home to return to even if they won the battle.

“Stay here,” the leader told his brother, figuring that Poseidon had the situation well under control. “I will handle the last one.”

Zeus ran as fast as he could toward the burning and partially collapsed fortress, dismayed at the damage already done. He prayed that none of his siblings were still inside, because if so, not even Zeus might be able to save them.

*

Hades suspected that many more places except Hera’s quarters had caught fire when the smoke filling the corridors thickened to the point of almost suffocating the god and his sister. Hestia was coughing frantically and occasionally crying out that she could not see a thing. Neither could Hades, but despite not being able to rely on his eyesight, he was very familiar with these parts of the fortress and trusted his ability to guide them to an exit. If the god’s memory served him correctly, there would be one leading out to the courtyard at the end of the corridor after the next right turn.

*

At the same time, Demeter had been waiting for the right moment to enter the fortress without being caught by the enemy. She would be no help to her siblings if any of the titans caught and likely killed her. When she saw her opening, she took it, making a mad dash across the clearing and into a gaping crack in the wall caused by a thrown boulder.

“Demeter!” she heard Zeus call after her, but she ignored it. She had to help her brother and sisters.

“Demeter, it is not safe!” Zeus shouted, but a shout from Poseidon turned his attention back to the titan who threw the colossal stones.

“Hades?” Demeter called through the strengthening smoke. The goddess pulled her robe over the lower half of her face and trudged on, begging to the powers that be that her siblings were safe. “Is anyone there??”

“Demeter?” a familiar voice called back. Demeter ran to the source of the voice, tripping over debris until she reached a body. Hera stood before her, arm extended to find her in the blinding smoke which filled the room.

“Where are our brother and sister?” Demeter asked.

“I saw them heading for the courtyard,” Hera answered as she coughed, her face hardly even visible from the hazy darkness around them. “I was about to go there myself when I heard you.”

“Poseidon and Zeus are still fighting the titans,” the younger goddess added as she and her sister stumbled through the hallway. “We must get outside before…”

A frightening shudder passed through the hall, and the smoke cleared just enough to reveal a fissure widening in the ceiling just above the two goddesses.

“Look out!” Demeter cried as she shoved Hera aside. A pillar fell between them, separating them from one another. Demeter moved to climb over it, unaware of the debris shaking loose from above. Dust scattered with the smoke as heavy shattered blocks of roof came crashing down where the Olympian stood.

Eyes wide in disbelief, Hera was even more shocked to hear her sister’s voice issuing from the wreckage.

“Hera, help me!” Demeter yelled. “I am stuck! Please help me!”

“I cannot see you!” Hera called back, trying in vain to discern her fellow goddess through the thick smoke which stung her eyes and lungs. Rather than rely on eyesight, Hera followed the sounds of her sister’s desperate, ragged cries and finally found a way to get close enough to Demeter to see where she was.

Hera knew at once that the block of granite that had landed on Demeter was too heavy for her to move; perhaps Zeus or Poseidon could have done it, but Hera figured she was wasting time simply by trying.

“Help me, sister, I cannot move!” Demeter pleaded, reaching to grab her sister’s gown from her prone position on the ground. The rubble had landed on her legs, and though Demeter knew that she should be in a great deal of pain, her lower extremities already felt strangely numb. While unaware of the reason for this, she knew in her heart that it was a bad sign.

“Help me!” she implored again, tugging on whatever part of Hera she could reach.

Giving a defeated sigh, Hera bent down to give it a try. She had to be able to say she tried. As predicted, the block of stone stop her fellow goddess did not move an inch when she tried to lift it. Hera made another attempt, this one equally fruitless, and felt acrid drops of sweat pour down her forehead into her eyes. The hallway, or what was left of it, was filling up with smoke, and she could hear the crackling of flames not too far away.

Besides, who knew how long the rest of the ceiling would stay intact? They were still under attack, and Hera feared that unless she moved soon, she would meet the same end as her sister.

“It’s too heavy, Demeter,” she said, breathing heavily. “I cannot move it.”

Demeter did not argue. She knew that Hera was right; there was no hope for her, there never had been since this thing fell on her and trapped her. She had to let Hera go, or they would both perish.

“I know,” she said quietly. To show Hera her gratitude for at least trying to help, she squeezed her sister’s hand. “Go. Get out while there is still time.”

Though losing any of the few members of the Olympian family was a tragedy, Hera pushed the sorrow from her mind. Demeter had been nothing but an accomplice to the undeserved sympathy of Hades, who had just been in the eldest goddess’ way of becoming Zeus’ consort.

She was not important, Hera silently told herself. She was only in the way, just as Hades was, and still is.

*

Zeus had managed to take down the third titan through a well-aimed sword to his ankle. Tendon sliced, the brute toppled over and the youngest Olympian proceeded to make short work of him. The two remaining titans were beginning to break their feet free of the drying earth when Zeus barked an order to Poseidon to stop them for good. One received a slit throat while the other was stabbed through the heart.

They struggled at first, as though they could defy their own mortal wounds, but within seconds they shuddered and collapsed, the life leaving them as though the wind had blown it away. Should Cronos send more of his brethren, they would see a sample of what their enemies could promise them.

Quite dirty and stained by titan blood, Poseidon hurried back to the crumbling, burning fortress, counting only two of their siblings.

“Where are your sisters?” he demanded to know.

“Hera was right behind us,” Hestia answered, wiping dust from her eyes. “And Demeter was outside.”

“No, she was not,” Poseidon argued, his once fearsome expression now melting into dismay. “She went inside to help you…”

A cough escaped the hole from which Hades and Hestia had escaped, and seconds later, Hera staggered out, all but choking on smoke.

“Where is Demeter??” Hades asked frantically.

“She’s still inside,” Hera said, her voice stifled by the smoke’s toxic mist. “The ceiling… caved in… she’s dead.”

The cry which left Hades’ throat was more beast-like than any sound made by a god, and he lunged at Hera, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. “You saw her die?!” he screamed at her face, shaking his sister even harder when he received no immediate reply. “Did you?”

“She was pinned under rubble. There was nothing I could do!” Hera shouted back and pushed her brother away. Every part of her body hurt, and she was certainly in no mood to be manhandled by the pathetic excuse for a god too weak to even fight alongside his brothers. “She told me to go while there was still time.”

“She was still alive when you left her?”

“Yes, but—”

Hades did not stay to listen to what else his eldest sister had to say. What he’d found out already was answer enough. If Demeter still lived, there was a chance to save her, and he was going to take it. Disregarding his own sense of ration and his siblings’ attempts to hold him back, Hades ran the short distance back to the exit through which he and his two sisters had escaped.

“Hades! No, it’s too dangerous!” Poseidon made a dash toward his brother to stop this folly, but Hades narrowly managed to avoid him, fuelled by panic and resolve which enhanced his normally limited physical strength. Poseidon’s fingers brushed his sleeve, and had the younger god managed to close his fist around the fabric, he would have caught his brother. There was no time for a second attempt before Hades was already within the collapsed building to search for his sister.

Hades pulled part of his robe over his mouth and nose, desperate to find Demeter but knowing he could not inhale much of the air around him without passing out. Then there would be two dead gods. Hades knew he was hardy of any help to his family, but Demeter was their healer. Where would the gods be without her?

“Demeter!” he cried out, coughing with the increasing smoke. If only he could see where he was going…

The smoke needs to leave, he thought in frustration. The fire needs to die down…

To his utter shock and disbelief, he felt the heat around him lessen. Suddenly he could breathe more clearly, looking around, he realized his vision had improved in the haze.

“Demeter?” he called out, taking advantage of the dying flames and running through the disintegrating halls. “Sister, can you hear me??”

A noise filtered its way through the corners of the fortress, and as Hades approached it, listening intently, he realized he was hearing a voice.

“I’m coming, sister!” he shouted hurrying toward the direction of the voice. “I am here!”

“Hades…” Demeter called to him. Her voice sounded awful, choked by smoldering air around her and wracked with pain. When Hades finally reached her, she was shaking as though she were cold.

“Don’t…” she managed to say as she drowsily watched her brother struggle to lift the debris. “Don’t… try… go… GO.”

“No!” Hades snapped at her. “I’m getting you out of here.” But try as he might, as much as he pulled, he could barely get the heaviest of the wreckage to budge. “Come ON!!” he screamed, lifting to the point of causing himself pain. “MOOOOVE!”

It has to come loose, he told himself. It HAS to. If not, I will break it apart with my BARE HANDS.

All at once he heard something cracking in unison with his pull. Had he broken bones and not yet registered the pain? He stared dumbly as he pulled again, and something glowed between the growing fractures of the debris.

“Burn, damn you,” Hades found himself murmuring angrily at the ruins.

Another pull and the wreckage broke about as though it were wet sand. Embers flew through the air like glowing insects as the pieces shattered and fell, most of them dimming into dull cinders.

Demeter dimly realized that she was now free to move around, but her mind had been fogged by the inhalation of the smoke, rendering her movements sluggish and clumsy. She could hardly even feel her legs, no longer trapped, but suddenly she felt something else that was much, much worse.

A few still burning embers had landed on the goddess’ dressing gown and as soon as they made contact with the dry fabric, it instantly caught fire. Demeter let out an agonizing scream as the flames travelled up her legs, licking her like blazing tongues, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the moment her hair would catch fire as well and consume her in an inferno of smoke and flames.

Hades watched in absolute terror as his sister’s clothes began to burn, and he reacted without thinking, throwing himself at her to smother the flames with his own form. He had caused this, and it was up to him to undo it.

The ceiling above them gave an ominous cracking sound as if to warn the two gods of their impending doom. Hades gave it no heed, feeling the heat against his hands, but no pain. He would have time for pain later; first he had to save his sister.

When the flames were finally stifled through a mixture of godly influence and manual work, Hades finally allowed himself to look at the goddess lying before him. What he saw made him swallow hard. The bottom part of Demeter’s gown had been almost completely obliterated, and what remained of it clung to her lower extremities, of which one was so badly burned that the color of her skin was deep red rather than lily white. The goddess herself lay completely still, and the only proof that she was even alive were small puffs of exhaled air coming out of her mouth.

The ceiling gave another warning sound, and this time Hades took it seriously. He gathered his grievously wounded sister into his arms and stood up, hoping there was still time to get out before the entire wing decided to come down onto them.

Outside, the other gods were growing restless, especially when they saw Zeus headed toward them, finished with the third titan.

“Where is Hades??” he asked, disregarding the fact that Demeter was also not present. He only cared about the absence of his eldest brother.

“He has gone back inside to find Demeter,” Poseidon answered. “I tried to stop him, but—”

“What, was he so strong as to have fought off your restraint?!” Zeus shouted angrily. “HOW could you have allowed this? I’m going inside and finding him…”

But Zeus did not enter the fortress. Before he could, he saw a figure coming toward the hole in the wall, carrying a body. For the briefest of moments, Zeus expected this to be Demeter carrying a wounded and possibly dead Hades, and his heart nearly stopped. But soon enough the figure stumbled out into view and all could plainly see the one injured was Demeter, held in shaking but firm arms by Hades.

Once his feet felt the grass of outside, the eldest god fell to his knees, tears and sweat marking fine lines down his dust-covered visage.

“Help her…” he said. “Please help her.”

Hestia, who loved Demeter most intimately, ran to her side, whimpering already at the sight of her unconscious, wounded form.

“Hades,” Zeus said, kneeling beside his brother. “Are you hurt?”

“I…” Hades was about to indicate his hands, but was perplexed to find them unmarked. How could he have not been burned? Was this the same magic which had allowed him to pass through halls without smoke, and break apart ruins he was unable to lift?

“No, I am not… but our sister…” Hades stared at Demeter, unresponsive and skin red from the fire. He had caused that fire. “Please…” he begged, not to Zeus or anyone else, “do not let her die…”

Now knowing that at least his brother was out of danger, Zeus finally allowed himself to direct his attention to the being in Hades’ arms. The goddess was badly burnt in her lower body, her normally flawless skin red, blistering and even totally absent in places. Surmising that Demeter’s clothes had caught fire and Hades had struggled to put them out, though not quickly enough, Zeus felt a sudden and inexplicable rush of anger toward his wounded sister.

Why did Demeter have to run back inside, against his orders? She had endangered not only her own life, but also the life of Hades, who went back in for her against better judgment. Zeus felt an urge to punish Demeter for her stupidity, but he also realized that anger would not help their present situation or the goddess why lay almost dying in her valiant brother’s grasp.

Zeus took Demeter’s unconscious body from Hades’ exhausted arms into his own and quickly assessed her condition. Their sister was alive, but for how long? Hades had managed to rescue her from the flames, but all his efforts might very well be for naught.

“Demeter, can you hear me?” Zeus asked softly as he held the goddess against his own chest.

There was a flutter behind Demeter’s eyelids at the mention of her name, followed by a faint, powerless sigh which proved that she had at least registered her brother’s voice.

“Zeus, can you do anything?” Hades wondered, grasping the one of Demeter’s hands which lay in the grass beside him.

“Her burn wounds,” Hestia injected before her youngest brother could answer. “We must put cold water on them. Demeter herself has taught me.”

“Everyone stand back,” Zeus ordered, disregarding his sister. “I will try to heal her.”

“Healing wounds is far different from thinning milk,” Hades mumbled, speaking his thoughts and fears. “She would have known.”

“Be quiet!” Zeus growled. He was not about to give up simply because he was no healer like Demeter was. His sister was counting on him, and if anyone could try to heal her wounds, why not he, youngest and most powerful of the Olympians?

He flattened one palm against the naked, raw wounds of Demeter’s leg, trying to ignore the horrible moan she made at the contact, and focused. He imagined the burns shrinking, their sticky, weeping sores closing and drying into smooth, white skin. He envisioned flesh growing back, the peeled away surface renewing itself so that his fallen sister would be able to get back up as though nothing had happened.

But when he opened his eyes, Zeus saw no change. Demeter still lay on the grass, her flesh red and weeping, her form shivering as she fought to hold consciousness.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “Why is it not working?”

Hestia shook her head, tears streaming down her dirty cheeks. “We need water…” she said, and she stood up and hurried to find it. Poseidon chased after her, calling after her that he would help.

Zeus rested his forehead against the base of his palm as his brother remained seated where he had fallen. A heavy sighed escaped the youngest god as he contemplated the situation. He was tired, and though he had managed to kill his foes, the damage had been done. The Olympian fortress had fallen, and would likely be irreparable. Zeus had been defeated.

Hades had remained perfectly silent ever since he had been ordered to by his brother. Staring at his sister’s motionless body, he finally felt the need to speak. “What will we do now?”

“We wait for the return of our brother and sister,” Zeus replied, not having any other answer to give. His plan ahead currently only consisted of saving Demeter’s life; what they would do or where they would go now that their home was destroyed was as unclear to the Olympian leader as it was to his siblings.

While Zeus’ futile attempts to heal Demeter’s wounds had been fruitless, one thing they did manage to do was draw the goddess back to wakefulness. Wracked by horrific pains, Demeter could only cry out her agony as she lay on the ground between her two brothers, who clumsily tried to soothe her with comforting words and gestures.

Hestia and Poseidon had only been gone for a few minutes, but it already felt like an eternity to Hades. Every moment Demeter spent trapped in the fortress of suffering that her body had become felt unbearably long, and Hades gladly would have traded places with her had he been able. Instead he now had to live the rest of his life knowing that he had done this to his beloved sister.

Hades was about to get up and get the water himself when he heard the return of Poseidon, who was running toward them with a bucket of water from their well in his hands. Hestia was a short distance behind him, carrying a bucket of her own.

“Quickly,” the goddess instructed as she knelt by Demeter’s side. She was the closest they had to a healer with the younger goddess incapacitated and saw it fit to take charge. “We must get these clothes off her form. Help me.”

Carefully she began to peel away the stripes and layers of blackened fabric that still clung to Demeter’s badly burnt legs, but when she reached particularly damaged spot on her sister’s left thigh, a large portion of Demeter’s charred skin came off and fell into her hands.

Hera, who had been silent ever since Hades came out of the fortress with Demeter in his arms, covered her eyes as she sat in observance. Hestia gagged but refused to throw up. Hades struggled not to burst into tears as he firmly held Demeter’s weak hand. A memory resurfaced of the horrible birth he had endured with Demeter supporting his efforts through every moment. But this time the roles had been unevenly exchanged. Hades had no inkling of how to help his unfortunate sister now, and holding back tears became most difficult in reliving that memory, but Hades blinked them back. The least he could do was keep his resolve as his sister experienced the agony coursing through her body.

Once she had used the water, Hestia looked down at Demeter with regret. “Had I proper things I could bind her wounds…”

Of course, Hades thought, berating himself in his mind. His sister needed bandages. The irrational part of his brain told him to go back into the burning fortress to find sheets, extra robes, anything which could be stripped apart and used to wrap Demeter’s wounds, but he stayed at his sister’s side.

Poseidon looked around at the chaos which had unfolded around the family. The fortress was mostly reduced to smoldering ruins, and three dead titans were now collecting flies in a matter of paces from it.

“There is no way we can stay here, Zeus,” he said. “We must find shelter elsewhere.”

Zeus was silent, contemplating his brother’s words.

“If we headed east, we could use the caves,” Poseidon suggested, speaking of the caverns he and his brother had come across on their previous hunting excursions.

“Yes,” Zeus simply said, standing and turning to look at the three massive corpses. “But first there is something I must do… in case more of our father’s men come looking for their brethren…”

While the rest of the gods tried to determine what they were able to take with them on their imminent journey, Zeus found and trimmed down several thick branches, driving them into the ground so that they stood straight upward. Then, with his sword, he drew parts off of the giant carcasses, an arm here, a leg there. Leaving the limbs strewn about the ghastly display, he finally beheaded his enemies and stuck their heads, dead eyed and open mouthed, onto the tops of the branches, grotesque signs for a grotesque warning to passersby.

While part of their courtyard had been covered in rubble from the collapsed walls of the fortress, the garden where the Olympians cultured fruits and vegetables had been left mostly unscathed. Poseidon and his two uninjured sisters spent almost two hours gathering as much as they could carry into sacks to bring with them, while Hades remained with Demeter, fearing that his sister might pass away if he as much as left her side for a moment. While there was nothing he could do to stop such from happening, at least he would spare Demeter the grief of having to die all alone.

The goddess, however, endured, and while she spent most of her time in a semi-conscious haze, there were occasions when she reached full consciousness and even made attempts to speak with her brother, asking if everyone was alright and how they were doing.

Hades wished he could have done more except stay with her, even something as trivial as ease her pain, but even if he had known which herbs to use for such, he lacked the knowledge of how to prepare them.

Poseidon was happy to discover that at least their livestock and horses had survived the attack, located on a meadow too far from the fortress to suffer any damage. The commotion had made some of the horses flee into the forest, but quite a few had stayed and came forth to welcome the god when he approached them.

“We need beasts of burden,” Hera said from behind him. “There is no way we can carry everything by ourselves.”

Poseidon nodded in agreement. He wondered why the titans had not targeted their animals; were they unaware of them altogether or had they simply considered them to be of no importance? Either way, Poseidon was grateful.

“Let us get the cart,” he said. “We must find shelter before nightfall.”


TBC...