Chapter Text
“You want to try escaping again?!” Megaera sounded outraged, but that was nothing new.
“Yes. I swung the old sword a bit, have to admit I’m a bit rusty. But I’m sure you’ll whip me in shape in no time.”
Silence. He didn’t even get a huff of amusement? Ugh.
His determination came forth, this time: “You had reasons to doubt me when I started my runs, but I hope this time you can trust me. You know I have my reasons and nothing about them changed.” His voice softened more, “I would really appreciate your support. Or at least, your understanding. I want to move on. Really move on. And continue where I left off.”
Thanatos’ hand just gently nudged that of Zagreus. “You were never one to give up. We are just worried. Your progress was undeniable, but your attempts numerous. So you will…”, he was Death, so the word shouldn’t feel as strange as it did now in his mouth, “die, you will probably die before you reach the surface. A lot of times. And that means…” he never said what it meant.
He didn’t need to. They all knew well enough.
Zagreus will die.
It will mean Styx.
It will mean pain. And redness. And rushing.
But just for a moment.
For it will mean rebirth too.
Rebirth was Hades’ command. And Zagreus’ will. Because now his will was a power over Styx much greater than Hades’ command. A power she could not fight.
“I know. I’m ready.” Another awkward little laugh. “Blood and darkness, I’ll probably die a lot till I’m in shape again to even get back to Elysium. But I know I have to.”
“Then we’ll have your back. You know how to call to me,” Thanatos said, slightly swinging his scythe, resembling the kind of support he could give Zag out there.
“Tch. Don’t think I’ll go easy on you.” The whip cracked loudly in her hand. Such a familiar sound.
The prince smiled: “You know I wouldn’t have it any other way. But really, thank you.”
“We’ll meet,” Than said, giving Megaera a small smile, and Zagreus a very chaste kiss, before gentle Death switched off to work. Gone to reap souls, but he would be back. It felt comfortably normal.
The fury looked directly at him, giving him a confident look, nearly a piercing stare. “Don’t look back, Zagreus.”
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The weight of his sword was familiar in his hand. Dodge.
The slashes were trained so often they came to him naturally. A hit into his side.
The fighting was almost a relief. Another to the shoulder, pain blooming.
Was that how Ares felt, when he went to war? Maybe he could relate to him, in a way.
Here Zagreus could move, could act, could forget questions and worries. Could concentrate on his task.
“In the name of Hades! I accept this message.”
“Hail, noble Cousin. It has been a long time, I am relieved you resume your endeavour. Let me aid your course.” Athena’s shields surrounded him in a golden glow. He basked in the light. Had he ever truly appreciated the beauty of it?
Golden lights, refreshing fights, moving onward, no time for fear, only forward, fighting and fighting until- “Ugh!”
He had had many better runs. But it was a freeing second-first run.
“-Uhh.” His first death had been a shock. Undeniably there was pain. Because he was brutally murdered, like always. Familiar red loud rushing enveloped him before he could fully grasp his death.
Red loud rush- the very next moment he was in the Hall, standing in the Styx, his feet moving automatically, stepping up the steps like always. Busy shades roamed about, talking about their deaths and life and Hypnos greeted him cheeringly, “Oh that was pretty fast, didn’t really get far it seems, huh?” Motivating as usual.
It stirred something in him. The shock and memories that threatened to overtook him where overshadowed by a rush of adrenaline so sudden, already forgotten somehow, left behind as he stepped into the Hall. Don’t look back, Zagreus. ‘Again’, he thought.
Again!
Yes, he was rusty. But he would be stronger again. Faster. Would dodge and slay more effectively.
The spark in him was lit and burning just as bright as the flames dancing around his feet as he eagerly dashed around the House, not standing still for longer than the time needed to pet a happy Cerberus.
Hades glanced at him without really moving his head away from where it rested on his hand. Skittish foolish young boy.
“Back already? I did not even notice you’re gone.”
“And I shall be gone again before you know, father.” Zagreus sounded gods-damned cheerful.
Yes, without denial, his son was back to normal. The King didn’t pay attention to his wretched boy anymore, but he could barely focus on the paper before him. He remembered, long ago, how he wanted to leave the Underworld. He could not. Being doomed to spend immortality in the Underworld had sure played his part in making him so bitter. His son was not. The boy was not bitter. Had never been bitter. Not yet. He didn’t know he couldn’t truly leave. He didn’t know that, regardless of how strong he would become, to get answers and air so fresh he never tasted anything like it, it would end in his death. The God of Blood. God of a thing that only existed in him and in a foolish river, down here. Hades had long stopped lamenting being forced to stay in this doomed world of the Dead. But how cruel were the Fates, to let him have a son with power over something that existed in the mortal world, where he could never live. Hades took some papers in his hand.
Cruel Fates.
Naive boy.
He denied the shade before him a stay in Asphodel and doomed it to Tartarus without listening to their case.
Welcome to the Underworld.
Hypnos saw Zagreus dash away. Bittersweet relief washed over him over Zagreus being up and running around. Sleep wouldn’t complain. If he would need Zag, his best friend would be there for him, he knew. And he still saw him more regularly than busy Death. And why complain when you can joke and sle- Asleep he was, the mere thought enough to fall in the comforting embrace of weird meaningless dreams.
Nothing had changed in the House of Hades, except for a few cracks in the wall from an ominous storm of blood. Cracks which landed on the House Contractor’s list. Cracks which fix would be expensive, but Zagreus could save up and repair the damage he had done.
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“I’ve heard you’ve been in some trouble, little Hades! Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure, but let me give you some assistance anyway!” Poseidon’s boon was welcomed.
It didn’t help, as Alecto finished him off, her laugh the last thing he heard before he was consumed by hot red loud rushing again. A vibrant radiant power all around him, as he was reborn. He didn’t seize it. Next moment he stood up, his hand combing through his hair, splattering drops of blood back into the river. He stepped out and into the House again. Don't look back - sometimes every step was a hard one to make, but he always stood back in the Hall again, safe, in a colorful, well known House full of familiar faces.
Achilles knew pride. He had felt it often when he had been alive. When the Hero had been too prideful for his own good. For the good of those he loved. But the pride Achilles felt as a mentor when he saw Zagreus step out again was a different one. A good one.
“Are the Olympians still of help to you, child?”
“They sure are, Nyx.”
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Varatha, the eternal spear plunged through foes like it had a thirst for death of it’s own. Meeting Sisyphus had motivated Zagreus and Tisiphone had greeted him with a sound somewhat resembling a “Z”. Maybe she could say Prince Z too? He should probably try to stick to the name first.
Stabbing, spinning, throwing.
Zagreus stepped into Asphodel. Finally he reached Asphodel again! It smelled burnt, like sulphur and ash. Instead of fateful bloody Styx it was the fiery Phlegethon flowing here. The prince at least tried not to step or dash in and said “Greetings to you, Phlegethon. Forgive me for burning myself a bit, yeah?” before he really thought about it. All rivers were conscious, right? He had learned. Don’t look back, Zagreus.
Stabbing, spinning, throwing.
Searing pain from a wound on his arm made it significantly harder to wield Varatha. Blood ebbed from the wound constantly. The prince gazed at the wound slightly annoyed. He had just been in some kind of flow. Fucking stupid wound, how he wished it would be gone…. A weird feeling washed over him, the skin around the wound tingling. With wonder he watched as the blood clotted, hardened, the wound closed. It wasn’t healed, he had no healing power. Just power over blood. Zagreus had willed it and the flow of blood was staunched. A power of his apparently. Of course the God of Blood could control the blood in his own body, had just never known, never tried, coaxing the power forth now by strong will to relief him somewhat from the bothersome wound.
Should he… do that? It truly came in handy. I didn’t make the biggest difference, right? Had he ever refused any kind of help? He had wanted to forget about the whole God of Blood thing. He was Zagreus, just Zag was fine, thank you. But maybe… maybe this would be his exception? The Godling shrugged. It was his own blood in his own body, he could do what he wanted. Don’t look back, Zagreus. He didn’t. He moved on with a fresh but closed wound, which did make his run a little less painful.
“In the name of Hades! I accept this message.”
“Hey man, good to hear from you! Not that I can hear you, but I’m glad you’re here accepting my help and all.” Purple was a great colour. He felt somewhat intoxicated, although his foes were the ones affected by Dionysus’ boon.
Stabbing, spinning- “Ugh!” Pain.
Red loud rushing. Once more.
The reviving surge of power.
Standing up.
Don’t look back, Zagreus.
Stepping into the Hall.
Again.
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Again and again. And again.
Coronacht, the Heart-seeking Bow, was new. It was frustrating that it apparently took some getting used to bow shooting. Maybe Artemis could give him some help. If he managed to get to another boon. Blood and darkness, he wanted to at least reach Asphodel again. His body was covered in staunched wounds.
The Volley-fire released nine arrows.
Somehow none of those nine reached a target. Welp.
The numbskulls were annoying and the Skullomats never got tired of spawning them.
Somewhere some of those big guys, the Wretched Thugs, didn’t even notice him yet.
Zagreus was rarely frustrated, but some runs just seemed doomed from the start.
The frustration, stress and determination to not give up against all odds built up.
He dodged.
Maybe a Heart-seeker was not the greatest weapon for fighting heartless foes?
He hit a stupid Numbskull.
Maybe it was a good weapon, and he just needed some more training?
He didn’t want to die.
Not yet.
Foes surrounded him.
Not yet- not yet- dodge, attack, a hit on his hip, a groan- Not yet!!
It surged through him, power electrifying his body, as he gained hold of the Styx- A bloodred wave rose high, towered his foes, splashed down on them into the chamber of Tartarus with thunderous noise, before flowing back. It happened so fast he nearly missed it.
Then it was quiet. The wave had appeared, taken, and seized.
All his foes were in the Styx, taken by the wave.
The chamber was cleared.
Somewhere, a bunch of coins were waiting for him. He was panting.
Staring at the red.
He did that.
He had not controlled the whole Styx, but this little part of her that had formed the wave. He had done that. Was it right? He didn’t know. It happened so fast. But it had been his doing. And all his foes were bested.
The hardest part was how easy it had come to him.
So much easier than slaughtering his foes. So much faster.
Was he sorry that it happened? He wasn’t even sure.
Zagreus ran into the next chamber. Styx was right there. He ignored her. He didn’t want to think about it. He tried not thinking about it. He tried fighting instead.
Some arrows hit, some didn’t.
He didn’t reach Asphodel in this run.
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A warm face pressed against the cold neck, lips caressing the soft skin, but every touch was absentmindedly. His eyes he kept on the blue hair, his thoughts however spiralled around a red wave.
Should he tell them?
Too unfocused to give affection he sat back.
Megaera and Thanatos were sharing a deep kiss, their eyes closed.
Zagreus didn’t want to worry them. And what should he say? Somehow, it was hard to imagine they could relate to him. They hated Styx. And he…. Didn’t. Couldn’t. Maybe he couldn’t because he was too soft. Or he couldn’t because he was connected with her. Had power over her. Maybe he just suppressed the whole thing too much.
“What’s up, Zag?”
Only a fool would think they wouldn’t notice.
“Nothing.”
“Tch. Don’t ‘Nothing’ us, Zagreus. We know you too well.”
But did they?
“Was it something on the run?”
Zagreus stood up abruptly, wanting some space. He paced back and forth.
“Last run, it happened on accident but I… controlled Styx and cleared the chamber through her. It just came over me. But it was just one chamber in Tartarus! I didn’t want to, I swear, but in the end it didn’t even feel too bad…”
His despair was obvious.
“You used your powers,” Thanatos stated the obvious, unhelpfully. “Did she do anything? By herself I mean.”
“No,” he answered. “No I just kind of created a wave that cleared the chamber of wretched shades. It was pretty fast and afterwards I went on like usual… that is my power I suppose. I could… do that. I mean I did that. But I could do that again.”
“Congrats, Zag,” Megaera didn’t sound concerned at all. “Took you long enough to find them, but at least they can be of some use now.”
“Meg, do you really suggest I do that all the time now? Just use Styx to my advantage?”
“Tch. You’re a God, Zagreus. It’s what we do. We have powers and we use them. It is the order of things.”
The Prince couldn’t really argue with that, but in his case he had a hard time agreeing. “I don’t think Styx appreciates it…”
“A lot of mortals don’t appreciate it when their time on the surface realm has come to an end, Zagreus.” Thanatos rarely spoke of his work, although he spent much of his eternal time working. “They do not thank me for reaping their soul and bringing them into the Underworld. Some tried cheating Death, you surely know. But it is who we are, and what we have to do. I have to be Death. Your father has to manage this realm, if he wants to or not. You have to be the God of Blood, whatever this means. And you said you have to run, you told us so when we wanted you to stay all that time ago. It seemingly holds true, as you continue the endeavour. No one ever succeeded in this task, so maybe you should use all you have. Your very own powers, of course, included. You are fated to have them. You cannot escape the Fates.”
The darkhaired Godling had stopped pacing. He looked at his solemn lover kind of dumbfounded. Rarely he had ever thought Thanatos wrong, and this time his words had felt nearly as wise as Nyx’ counsel.
He was Zagreus, Prince of a home he tried to escape, Son of a father he professionally disappointed and God of powers he supressed.
God of Blood.
Instead of suppressing, he let it sink in this time.
God of Blood.
‘I am the God of Blood.’
Megaera huffed: “You overthink this, Zagreus. You’ve discovered it pretty late, but it’s just who you are."
“-Bad?”, the Prince asked.
She nearly laughed, this time. “I don’t know where you get such mortal concepts.”
Thanatos reached out to gently caress a pale cheek. “It’s ok, Zag. Use your powers, we assure you that’s ok, or do not, it’s your own power after all. But you are great, and loved either way. Don’t be afraid of your own nature and abilities.”
Zagreus sat down again, between his lovers, the most comfortable place he knew. He was indeed loved. And he loved them. Warm hands found colder ones to gently squeeze, while he took in their assurances.
He was leaned against Megaera, who looked down at him with an affectionate teasing grin. “She circles this place nearly a dozen times and you really rack your brain over a stupid wave? That’s nothing.”
It didn’t feel like nothing.
She shoved his shoulder roughly, “You should try to wash me away with that wave of yours, see how steadfast I am.”
Mismatched eyes got innocently big, filled with wonder. Adorable. “You want me to use the Styx on you?"
"Tch, it comes with you, right? It’s a part of you, after all. I won’t see it as Styx, more as a weapon at your disposal.” A tinge of a lie laid in those words. Maybe this was how she would finally be able to try and fight Styx. How she could find out what hurt her. Or at least how she could take her anger out on her.
This would, in fact, probably be the only way Stay would get something resembling a punishment- by Zagreus using his powers.
“We’ll see,” coming forth had been good, now he needed some time to think about it.
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Red loud rushing.
It stayed with him- A complicated connection of painful memories, tied fates and godly power.
Sometimes he found comfort in the knowledge of his power. At other times a young Prince had to focus on another colour, a solid surface, a different noise, murmured names he wanted to forget again, a world that would never again be lost to him, bested inner unreasonable fear again and again.
A convoluted bond, but an inevitable one.
Aegis felt comfortable in his arm, as he had built up enough muscles to not be bothered by the weight of the heavy metallic arm. Protection and weapon combined. The fires on his feet danced eagerly, mirroring his motivation to hurl the disc at his wretched foes.
Keepsakes of his loved ones powered him up, assurances of family, friends and lovers eased his discomforts, his goal in mind and the path before him fuelled him.
Perhaps bloodred waves would aid him, perhaps he would resist the tingle.
The Prince of the Underworld left the House once again.
The God of Blood sent his bloodred cast ahead and destroyed the first enemy of this run.
The Son of Hades ran into the next chamber, like so many times in the past, and he would do it often again.
Zagreus was back, following the Fate the Three Sisters had woven for him- his Tale of Blood.
Another escape attempt although he knew so well now:
Blood, Death and Darkness were inescapable.