The Path to Victory

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys. Both my co-author and I much appreciate it!


Chapter 4

When discovering that Hades was once again absent from the dining table, Zeus was about to launch another rant on his brother’s disrespectful behavior, until Poseidon interrupted him.

“Our brother is greatly unwell,” he said firmly, determined to have Zeus leave their eldest brother alone. “Directing your anger toward him is not going to help.”

Zeus merely lifted an eyebrow at the statement, indicating that Poseidon needed to explain himself further.

“I paid him a visit some time ago and he was in an awful state,” the older god answered. “He grows thinner despite eating, and he tires so easily. And… his beautiful hair…” he hesitated, remembering the eerie sight. “It came out by the handful when I so much as touched it.”

Zeus sat back in his chair, considering his brother’s condition. The gods were a vain sort, and Hades especially prided himself with his handsome locks, black as the night sky. The other signs of his degrading state were unbearable enough in the first place.

“I shall visit his quarters,” he announced, standing.

Poseidon lifted an eyebrow. “If you permit me to ask the reason…?”

“I must ascertain his condition; see that he is taken care of. After all, he carries our sole hope of survival. Join your sisters. I will return shortly.”

Hades had managed to find some sleep, though it was a restless sleep which left him all the more drained when he awoke. At times he was needlessly awoken by movement within him, or by noises outside his bedchambers, such as distant footsteps or wind caught up in the halls from outside. Thinking his attempts at sleep were futile, he hardly moved at the sound of a gentle knock at his door.

“Enter,” he called out.

Zeus would not knock, unlike their siblings, and so his entrance was a surprise to Hades.

“I apologize for being unable to dine with you at this time…” Hades croaked upon seeing his brother, assuming that was the reason why Zeus had come.

“No apologies needed, Hades,” the leader replied softly, feeling a great swell of pity when he laid eyes on the nothing short of pathetic being lying in the bed. In the dim candle light, Hades’ skin seemed almost transparent, and Zeus could have sworn he saw the grinning face of a cranium when regarding his brother’s sunken, hollow-eyed face.

A premonition of what was to come? He did not even want to consider such thoughts. “I did not come here to berate you,” Zeus continued while he slowly moved closer to the bed. “In fact, I was thinking that since you are too weak to join us, perhaps you would want something to eat in the solitude of your chambers?”

Hades’ eyes actually widened when he noticed that his younger brother was carrying a plate filled with food, and a goblet he assumed contained wine.

Zeus smiled at his brother’s reaction. “Are you so surprised to see me offer such kindness, brother?” he asked.

“Truly,” Hades replied, watching as his leader set the plate down on the mattress. Zeus then took a seat next to the ill god and held the goblet in his view.

“Perhaps some drink will help,” he offered. “It may rest the chaos within your belly.”

“It’s no longer ‘mine’,” Hades said, a sad look marking his features as he rested his hands over the curve of his swollen stomach. “I doubt your offers of generosity will do much to help.”

Hades truly was a sad sight to behold. Looking closely, Zeus could see the thinning areas of hair where they faded into a naked scalp. What a shame…

“Perhaps something to eat,” he said, picking up some fruit from the platter. “You do need whatever strength you can procure. It may keep the creature inside you a little less… belligerent.”

Hades accepted the fruit offered by Zeus – a fig – and bit into it, although not without a certain amount of trepidation. Considering what recently had happened to his once so strong hair, he now feared that using his teeth might make them fall out all the same. Thankfully, this did not happen, and Hades was able to relax just a little bit. Zeus placed a hand against his back to help keep him upright while he slowly chewed. To receive such tenderness from the younger god was an unexpected treat, but it also fuelled Hades’ suspicion that Zeus would want something in return.

Well-aware of his brother’s insatiable libido, Hades could not help but fear that Zeus would want to lie with him again, but remembering the state of himself, he quickly rejected the idea. He had become so hideous that even the leader of the Olympians would not want to touch him.

“Why the kindness, Zeus?” he asked him, taking a piece of meat cut from the serving on his plate. He chewed it with a deliberate slowness, aware that at anytime his stomach – or rather the creature within him – might rebel and refuse the food.

“Can I not treat my brother with civility?” Zeus responded, rubbing his brother’s back. “Or show gentility when I greet my kin?”

The suspicious look he received from his brother made Zeus sigh with defeat. “This creation,” he said, placing a careful hand on Hades’ stomach, “will free us from the Titans’ reign. In order to keep it safe, one must keep its caretaker safe.”

The word ‘caretaker’ did not irritate Hades as the word ‘vessel’ did. A vessel was an object, but a caretaker was something real, with feelings and thoughts.

He decided to accept the console offered by his brother and crawled closer, planting his heavy, aching head against Zeus’ broad shoulder. Probably his brother’s robes would be covered in brittle dark hairs when they parted, but that would be Zeus’ problem, not his.

Briefly frightened that he had overstepped his boundaries, as Zeus was not exactly famous for his tokens of affection, especially not toward him, Hades considered withdrawing from the other god, but an arm settled around his shoulders, keeping him in place.

“Even if you don’t believe it, it pains me to watch you suffer so, my brother,” Zeus said, and this time Hades had no reason to doubt him.

“I believe you,” he said, his exhales like warm puffs of wind against his brother’s neck.

“Would you like me to remain here with you, or would you rather be alone?”

“It shames me to suffer in the company of my family,” Hades confessed. “But I am grateful for the food and drink.”

Zeus nodded, slightly lost in thought. He considered the slim possibility of his brother entering the dining hall in the days that followed. When Hades gave a dismissive wave at the offer of more to eat or drink, his youngest brother helped him to lie back down, though no matter the position he took he could not be at complete ease.

“If you are unfit to attend supper with the rest of us, something can still be arranged,” Zeus said. “We can bring you sustenance here where you are most comfortable.”

“That would be fine,” Hades replied quietly. Of course no other option was present, save for someone carrying him around, and he would kill himself before willingly becoming so dependant. Still, he detested the idea of remaining in bed for those final agonizing days, but what else could he do?

*

The previous day Hades had believed that his condition could not possibly get much worse, but when he woke up after a night of restless sleep coupled with odd and confusing dreams, he was rudely forced to reconsider his earlier assumption.

What woke him up was a stark feeling of nausea, and with a stomach devoid of food, the only thing that came up was black bile, despite repeated and vehement attempts to vomit. The air in his bedchamber was suffocating him, and Hades was convinced that if he didn’t quickly get outside, his lungs would implode and no longer serve their purpose.

The simple task of getting dressed took him what felt like an eternity, but Hades was adamant despite his infirmity; he would feel the sun against his face at least one more time before he perished.

“Brother, what are you doing out of bed?” Hestia asked him as he walked out of his bedchambers, although one could hardly call his shuffling awkward gait walking. This condition was surely an experiment in humiliation.

“If I must remain indoors another minute I will go mad,” he said as he made his way to the door. “Don’t you dare try to stop me!”

“Hades, please be reasonable!” the goddess pleaded, grabbing him by a cloaked arm. She could not help but gasp at how easily her fingers closed around his bony wrist, and she pulled her hands away as though she had been hurt. Hades angrily yanked his arm away from her reach and continued on his way. He sadly knew that if she desired, Hestia could easily use physical force to restrain his week body.

“Hades, stop!” she called out.

“What is all this commotion?” Poseidon said as he stepped out of his own quarters. “Hades, you should be resting.”

“I shall strike someone if I am reminded one more time,” Hades growled. “Now stand aside so that I may pass!”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Poseidon stood his ground. Despite the respect he held for his brother, he would not stand for folly like this. “Has Zeus given you permission to leave the refuge?” he asked, immediately guessing the answer when Hades’ already hawk-like features were twisted in to a grimace of anger.

“I do not need our brother’s permission to leave our home!” he hissed, taking a shuffling step toward the other, but the desired effect was absent; Poseidon did not step aside, and Hades knew that unless Poseidon moved on his own accord, Hades was not going to be able to move him.

Hestia had now caught up with him, and Hades felt his sister’s arm around his shoulders, gentle but at the same time insistently trying to pull him back toward his chambers. Hades only sighed. He could not even stand up to one of his siblings, so two were simply out of question.

“I apologize so much for wanting to feel the wind against my face, just one last time…” he whispered bitterly, now close to tears.

Seeing despair in his brother made Poseidon relent in a way Hades’ anger did not. “You may go outside,” he said slowly, “as long as someone accompanies you.” He turned to the goddess. “Hestia, perhaps you could follow our brother where he wants to go…?"

“Gladly,” she replied, giving her brother’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “If you wish for privacy, I will understand. You’ll not even know I am with you.”

Already sick of his siblings’ constant surveillance, Hades would have preferred to go outside without even the most elusive of company, but if he did not accept the offer, he would be stuck indoors for the remainder of his pregnancy. He blinked watery nature of his eyes and glanced at his sister.

“If you insist.”

The walk down to the nearby shores was yet another exercise in embarrassment. Though he hated the assistance, Hades required Hestia’s help in traveling down the hill. Otherwise he would have stumbled down, tripped and tumbled the rest of the way like an idiot.

“I wish to spend time alone at the shore,” he said once they reached the bottom of the slope.

Hestia nodded and was out of sight in no time. Sighing in relief, the god slowly made his way to the shoreline and took a seat at a set of rocks, the sea tide splashing below him and the horizon far beyond him.

The fresh morning breeze played with what still remained of his hair, and Hades closed his eyes at the pleasant sensation, turning his face toward the sun, which surprisingly had a calming effect on him. Up until now, he had always preferred the starry night-time sky to the blazing heat of the sun, but warmth was something that Hades’ emaciated system was in desperate need of.

He did not know how much time had passed when he suddenly noticed that the breeze had stilled and the sun had gone into hiding behind some rather heavy, dark clouds. Something in the air itself made him shiver in sudden and immediate dread. Something foul was in the works, and Hades, now feeling threatened rather than soothed, rose with agonizing slowness to descend from the rocks and head back to safety.

The unfortunate Olympian did not notice the long, slithering tentacle that reached out of the water, before its cold flesh closed around his ankle and began to pull him into the water.

“AAAGH!”

Hestia was running as fast as she could to reach the shore, her brother’s cry of terror clear in the air, despite the roar of the tides. She too was shouting for help as she hurried, for the sight of the monstrous animal which was presently taking Hades into the water appeared far too big for her to fight off alone.

Hades could barely find anything to hold onto, his hands sliding over the smooth surface of the rocks. While one gray tentacle continued to pull him by the leg, another slithered from the water and wrapped around his torso and neck, eager to pry him loose from the stones and bring him below the surface.

The creature within Hades squirmed violently beneath his flesh, possibly reacting to the distress of its creator, or to the danger at hand. The unborn entity seemed to either be communicating a need to escape or fight back. Either way, Hades’ cries were now both of fear and pain.

Hestia fearlessly threw herself into the water and using a makeshift weapon, she furiously began to stab the parts of the creature that were accessible to her; in this case, the two tentacles currently wrapped around her poor brother’s body.

Hades felt several of his fingernails break during his desperate attempts to cling on to the rocks, and had he been able to speak, he would have told Hestia to save herself; aiding him was a lost cause in which she could not prevail. As by a miracle, the goddess was able to sever the tentacle wrapped around Hades’ left ankle, and the merciless tugging briefly relented, allowing the pregnant Olympian to wrap his arms around the rock in a last desperate attempt to avoid a certain death.

Before Hestia got a chance to start working on the other tentacle, a third one shot out from the water, wrapped itself around her body, and threw her back onto the shore, where she landed in a heap. Hades closed his eyes in resignation, the strength in his fatigued limbs, fuelled by panic, draining quickly.

Hestia struggled to grab the branch-made weapon so that she could stab another of the monster’s limbs, but she was interrupted. She could only watch as a figure ran past her and onto what must have been the submerged body of the animal, bringing down a sword into the damned thing. The monster gave a low howl and began to thrash against its attacker, but soon its limbs went loose and it sank into the sea. Hades could feel the tentacles falling from him before he went unconscious.

Zeus sheathed his sword and stepped off of the dead beast, taking his brother in his arms before he could slip off of the rock and into the water. Gathering up the older god, he saw Hestia running toward them. He would have demanded an explanation the moment he saw her approach if he did not catch something out of the corner of his eye.

Blood. And not inky, black blood like that of the dead monster, but red blood. It swirled in the water as it dripped from between Hades’ legs.

“Something is wrong!” Zeus exclaimed, hurrying from the shore and up the hill, his sister close behind him. “We must hurry!”

The pair met up with Poseidon in the courtyard, and the god’s face went completely livid when he saw the state of Hades in Zeus’ arms. In truth, the pregnant Olympian looked more dead than alive, and this impression was enhanced by the fact that his clothes were torn and covered in a slimy black substance, and then there was the blood. The source of the bleeding was obvious without being made explicit.

“Has he… lost it?” Poseidon asked in a trembling voice, afraid that that was the case.

Zeus threw an angry glare at his brother before answering his question. He would have a word with Poseidon about this later. “Not yet, but I fear he will,” he said curtly, pushing past the other on his way back to the fortress. “If there is anything to be done, it must happen quickly.”

Hestia remained behind, wet, trembling and covered in the same black substance as Hades. Poseidon knew from the pain in her eyes that she blamed herself for what happened. And he could certainly understand her, as he did too.

Hades was still out cold as his brother laid him down in his bed. Demeter, nearby, heard the noise and came rushing into the bedchambers.

“What’s happened?” she exclaimed.

Zeus’ expression was grave. “He was outside, by the sea. He was attacked by some kind of monster.”

Demeter was by her eldest brother’s side in an instant, scrutinizing his unconscious form. Her heart sank at the sight of blood, but she quickly came to her sense once more, helping Zeus to remove the gore-stained robes.

“My poor brother,” he murmured as she placed a hand over his sweating forehead. Hades did not react, but, something else was. The creature within him seemed determined to escape the confines of its fleshy prison. It lurched outward and caused Hades such pain as to moan in his sleep.

“If we don’t do something quickly, Hades will die, and so may the weapon,” Zeus remarked, sadness in his eyes.

“Please, be still, I beg of you,” Demeter was inspired to say, her hands over Hades’ belly. As Zeus tried desperately to hold back the bleeding between his brother’s legs, the goddess climbed onto the bed, lips against the bulging curve. “Quiet,” she pleaded in a whisper. “This is not your time, be still..."

Zeus was about to snap at her that the creature hardly understood what she was saying and that she was wasting her time, but he was forced to reconsider his attitude when the movement inside Hades gradually stilled. How unbelievable though it sounded, the creature seemed soothed by Demeter’s hushed words.

Now regarding his sister with surprise and admiration, Zeus stepped aside in order to let her work her magic on their poor dying brother. Demeter was clearly much more adept in this field than he could ever hope to be.

Once the weapon Hades carried no longer risked a premature exit from his body, Demeter proceeded to clean her brother from the foul substances he was covered in. Most of it originated from the creature, but Hades’ own blood seeped from various wounds he had sustained while fighting for his life. However, it was the bleeding from his nether opening that concerned her the most.

“I hope that it eventually will cease on its own…” the goddess said, a worried scowl marring her features. “For if it doesn’t, I don’t know what I could do to stop it.”

Hestia and Poseidon had followed Zeus when he carried the unconscious Hades into his chambers, but they did not enter the room, merely observing the grim ordeal from a respectful distance.

“I shouldn’t have left him,” Hestia repeated for the fifth or sixth time. “I was in charge of his safety, and I let this happen? If he dies, the blame is mine.” She feared that Zeus would punish her for her negligence, but considering what her inattention had caused, she felt that she deserved it.

“Should he place blame on you,” Poseidon replied, drawing her close, “then it would be unjust. It could not be helped. You did what you could. Had you not been present, Hades would have been gone by the time Zeus arrived.”

Blinking back tears, Hestia nodded, trying to believe her brother. She looked up with fear when she realized Zeus was making his way toward them.

“Brother,” she began to implore. “I was wrong to accompany Hades. If only I had…”

“The fault does not lie with you,” the young god interrupted her. “Not nearly as much as it does…” he turned to Poseidon, “with you. Now leave us, sister. We require privacy.”

Once Hestia had left the hallway, Zeus’s expression was that of pure rage. “What were you THINKING, leaving him to go outside?! Had you not considered Cronos may have beasts at his own disposal? If so, then he now knows of Hades’ condition!”

Poseidon stood his ground, but his stomach dropped out when he considered Zeus’ question. In truth, he had been swayed by his brother’s tearful pleading and not thought much about the risks involved in letting Hades venture outside. All he had thought of at the time was that the pregnant Olympian might be overcome with weakness and faint, and in his mind, Hestia would have been equipped to handle such an occurrence. Fighting a hostile minion of Cronos was a completely different matter, and he probably owed his sister greatly for doing as well as she had.

“I was not thinking, brother,” Poseidon replied, submissively bowing his head. “I merely wanted to fulfill my brother’s wish. He can be quite persuasive, even now.”

Zeus ground his teeth at the explanation provided by his older brother. “Yes, you indeed seem to have a soft spot for our beloved Hades. But as we’ve seen now, neither of you benefit from it!”

Poseidon’s apologetic eyes shifted into those of anger. “Are you accusing me of displaying favoritism?”

“What do you think?”

“Such a strong accusation, brother…” Poseidon remarked, glaring, “When you would so willingly display it yourself.”

Zeus’s eyes narrowed. He looked ready to strike his brother down where he stood. “Be very careful where you take this conversation, brother.”

“If you threaten to harm me, you may as well threaten the rest of our kin. We have all seen the way you speak with Hera, the way you touch her and make love to her. Would it be so offensive to suggest you may take her as your consort? Would that not mean she is your favorite among us?”

Zeus, visage reddened at the boldness of his brother’s speech, stepped forward, his voice low but all the more angry. “And are you implying that perhaps you’ll take Hades as your own consort? Shall we make it official now, or when the two of you are rutting like beasts?”

Poseidon’s anger faltered and a flicker of hurt passed in his eyes. “That is not fair. He is our brother, and still you show barely any compassion, only for the weapon within him.”

The cold, cynical gleam in Zeus’ eyes did not go unnoticed by Poseidon. “Indeed,” the leader muttered, “I am not always entirely convinced that I do not have one brother and four sisters!”

Poseidon’s hands briefly itched to strike Zeus for the blatant disrespect he displayed toward Hades, but he quickly suppressed the urge; having them fight between themselves would be pretty much the same as admitting that Cronos had managed to divide them, and unless united, the Olympians would not come out victorious in this war.

“That was cruel, brother Zeus,” Poseidon said in a low and unobtrusive voice. “I know you do not view Hades as your equal, but at least I view him as mine.”

Zeus smirked. “For someone so brutal in combat… you certainly can be extraordinarily compassionate,” he remarked.

Poseidon lifted an eyebrow. “If we are to make anything of a world ruled by ourselves, compassion is as vital as force.”


TBC...