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Hephaestus’ smile grew as he heard loud music blare from the main ballroom. It sounds like the party is in full swing… I hope I’m on time.
The young smith had no intention of even showing up; there seemed to be simply too much work that had to be done. Fortunately, he had an opportunity to show up. Hepheastus didn’t think he’d be so happy to go, since most of the time a crowded place with a sea of thoughts gave him hives.
He entered the ballroom, and was met with a flurry of senses. The blinding stones of lights. The beautiful music. The chitters and giggles of gossip. So many - too many thinking, laughing, dancing minds. Hephaestus heard his mother’s name in a snide nymph’s mouth, and it made him keep wheeling to find someone, anyone he knew.
“Hephaestus!” He heard a familiar beautiful voice call him, and the smith immediately turned his head to his younger Apollo, of Purifying Song and Dance. His hair was neatly combed back into a dainty golden ponytail. A wide smile showed off his dimples. “You made it! I’m glad you’re here.”
“Thanks, Pollie,” Hephaestus smiled with a brisk handshake from his brother. “There’s so many people here…”
“I know, right?!” He beamed, floating a little with excitement. “Dad invited the entire pantheon! So many people are here! Even you and Ares!”
Ares is here? Hephaestus didn’t even notice, but after a quick search, he found his brother’s obvious and uncomfortable mental presence, along with… it was so hard to focus, the smith couldn’t tell who. “Is he? Parties aren’t really his thing…” Especially parties that involve you and Dad.
Apollo’s expression soured. “Yeah… he’s over there with Hermes, probably boring him to death or something.” He pointed a lazy thumb behind him. Unfortunately, there was a crowd obscuring their brother’s view. Dad didn't want him to come… but I wanted to be a nice little brother. That’s not going to happen again.”
Hephaestus opened his mouth to give at least a little defense to Ares, but he snapped it shut and sighed. The smith knew there was no point in attempting to reason with someone like Apollo; it was like reasoning with their father. Useless… “Thanks, Pollie.” Hephaestus said as he wheeled on, using his mind to guide him.
“Have fun! Drinks are on Dad!”
Hephaestus wished he had wheeled himself away from the center of the ballroom. There were so many people… so many toes to accidentally roll over. His face heated a little more every time he had to quickly apologize to someone who glared at him. It was abnormal for Hephaestus to be so clumsy, but it was harder to move with telekinesis when everyone was clouding his mind.
Luckily there was an opening, and Ares was spotted immediately. His head was down on a table and his bare arms exposed from his tank top. Even with the dim lights, his Soul Scars were clearly visible on his arms. Their younger brother, Hermes, was with them, leaning on the table and talking a mile a minute. His hair was a dirty brown, obscured with his winged cap. When the child noticed, he waved with both his arms.
“Hi, Hermi,” Hephaestus said once he was in speaking distance. His voice made Ares sit up, and the smith was sure to add, “Hi, Ares. How’s the party?”
His brothers answered at the same time. Hermes exclaimed, “Awesome,” but Ares mumbled, “I wanna go to my room.”
“Ares said his head hurt a Mortal half hour ago,” Hermes explained when Ares put his head back down. “I don’t think he likes all the noise too much…”
Hephaestus already knew the problem, and it only became clearer when Ares bristled and shook in his seat. He was much too big for it, but that was to be expected. Now that Ares was past the age of maturity, he was officially the largest god in the pantheon, tied with the great Atlas at a staggering 7’2 in Mortal measurements. “It’s not the noise, it’s the people… isn’t it?”
A small nod came from his older brother. I should have gotten something for him… Hephaestus mentally chided himself. The last thing this party needs is him ripping a poor nymph in half. “Hey, that’s alright.” Hermes reasoned. “You can just keep listening to me! That’s been helping, right?”
Ares sat up again with a small sigh. The dimmed lights made his facial Soul Scars look even more grotesques. Neither Hermes nor Hephaestus flinched or commented. When Ares smiled, his brothers did too. “Yeah,” He said, his voice gruff from grogginess. “It does.” To Hephaestus, he said, “He was telling me a story, you know.”
“Should I start over?” Hermes asked with a chin tap.
“No!” His older brothers told him, and it made both of them bubble with laughter. “Fuck, you’d talk for Mortal days if no on stopped you.” Ares continued while Hephaestus struggled and failed to contain his giggles.
Hermes huffed and crossed his arms. “Whatever,” He protested. “My stories are awesome. You guys are just haters.”
“We don’t think you’re a bad storyteller.” Hephaestus said, putting his hand on Hermes’ shoulder. The little boy’s glare almost made the smith snort. “We just think you talk too much. And you do.”
“Do not!”
“Do too.” Ares teased with a smile. Now, his head was resting in his marked hand. His eyes were still dark and his mind was still foggy, but Hephaestus relaxed anyway. Nothing could go wrong… right? “You’d die if someone made you shut up for more than a Mortal hour.”
Hermes slammed his little palms on the table, glaring hard at his massive brother. “Oh yeah? Wanna bet?”
“Sure,” Aries grinned, standing up just enough to tower over his kid brother. “50 Drachmas says you won’t make it through the night silent as a mouse.”
“What?!” Hermes and Hephaestus exclaimed, but the smith knew it was for completely different reasons. “Ares, Hermes is underage,” Hepheastus tried to reason, his hands moving with his words. “You can’t gamble with a kid.”
“Oh yeah?” Ares asked with a raised eyebrow, leaning his elbows on the table. Hermes swallowed. “So why has he been at brothels, cheating centaurs out of thousands?”
“Hey, that was only once!” Hermes countered. Ares and Hephaestus exchanged a glance. “Fine… twice. Or… seven times... But that’s it, I promise!”
“How do you know he cheats?” Hephaestus asked his brother. “And how do you even get there?”
“Who do you think takes him?” Hephaestus must have had some sort of shocked expression, because Ares quickly added, “Hey, I don’t let him stay all night. They’re the ones who were stupid enough to play a god of trickery and bet their life’s worth. As for the cheating… that could use some work.”
“Hey!”
“I can show you a better card game than the ones you use.”
“Really?”
“Ares-”
“Come on, Phee!” Hermes pleaded, suddenly on his knees in front of his brother’s wheelchair. “Don’t tell Dad! Let’s just have some fun. No bets, I promise!”
Should I really let him teach our 10 year old brother the ins and outs of cheating in card games? Hephaestus thought to himself as Ares was occupied with pulling a deck out of his pocket. Their eyes met, and Hephaestus caught the terrible glint that shone. That was a warning. “I’m not going to tell Dad,” He answered honestly, not looking away from his other brother. “But no money, got it?”
“Deal!” Ares and Hermes both smiled, and the youngest zipped to his seat across from his brother. Ares laid out the cards across the table and proceeded to explain to his kid brother about card tricks. Hephaestus didn’t notice at first, but he realized that he too was interested, wheeling himself closer to the table. Hermes made room for him by pushing a spare chair out of the way. Their little table erupted in shouts and cheers when one of the brothers managed to perfect a certain con. Even Hephaestus gave it a go with telekinesis, and smiled when Ares patted him on the back.
For the first time since Hephaestus saw him at the party, Ares seemed calm. He laughed at Hermes’ goofy expressions, and eagerly showed him trick after trick. It made the young smith reminisce on his own younger days, when he and Ares were much more innocent and much less wary. Back when they danced together and shared cookies at their aunt’s house. He’s so capable… he thought to himself. He just needs to be around the right people.
“Hey guys,” The same golden voice as before sang. The three boys looked up from their game to see Apollo, arms crossed and peering down with a sly smirk. Hermes smiled, but Hephaestus noticed Ares shrink into his tiny seat. “What are you doing?”
Before Hermes could run his mouth, Hephaestus answered. “We’re just playing cards.” Apollo's smile twisted in amusement. “You can join in, then it could be an even four. Ares keeps giving himself extra cards.”
Ares snorted when Hermes playfully shoved him. Even then, Apollo reacted with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t you guys wanna dance? I’m sure it's more fun than playing cards in the dark.”
Hephaestus shook his head with a smile. “I’m okay,” He turned to his brothers. “What about you guys?”
Hermes nodded with a shrug. His cap fell over his eyes and Ares fixed it with one hand. “Thanks! But I’ll dance later. Don’t worry, the Realm is gonna be blown away from my moves!”
“I can’t wait to see it!” Apollo cheered with a single clap. When his eyes met Ares’, his smile turned in a mischievous, daunting way that darkened his golden features. “What about you?” His mind was expertly guarded, but his intention gave way to Hephaestus. Embarrassment. “I don’t see you as much of a dancer. So why even come to a place where you don’t belong?”
Ares’ mental fog collapsed into a throttling storm. Various gruesome images of Apollo’s mangled corpse laid before the smith’s mind, forcing him to shake his head in an attempt to ignore them. Hephaestus gasped and turned to his brother, watching him rise to his full, menacing height. To his surprise, Hermes didn’t look intimidated in the slightest. “That wasn’t very nice, Pollie.” He said with an accusing finger. “Ares has feelings too, you know. Besides, he’s a great dancer.”
“Right, sure he does,” Apollo sarcastically agreed with a dainty wave of his hand. “Weapons don’t have feelings. Dad said so.”
“Dad can be wrong sometimes.”
Apollo looked up to Ares’ snarl with a pretty smile. “I don’t think so.” Every word dropped with intent. Ares shook again, and even if Hephaestus had no access to his mind, the smith would know his brother was hanging by a thread. “He’s not wrong about us. And he’s certainly not wrong about our places.”
That made all three of the brothers bristle. The God King had his favorites, and it was clear as midday who those favorites were. Apollo, in particular, was one who often enjoyed taking pride in such rankings. “We get it,” Hephaestus was surprised when Hermes floated to his older brother to snap at him. “Dad likes you the most. Who cares?”
“The entire pantheon, it seems,” Apollo answered while observing one of his painted nails. “That’s not much of a surprise though. Who wouldn’t want to celebrate the God King’s Golden Boy?”
Before anyone else could tell Apollo to shut up and get off of his high horse, Ares’ words were rugged and struck like boulders. “None of us give a shit about his damn favorites. I don’t even give a shit about this fucking party. Mama made me go, so I came. That’s it. I’m not here for you, or him celebrating you, or whatever bullshit excuse you have for even throwing this damn thing in the first place.”
What is this for…? Hephaestus had forgotten to ask. The crowds didn’t help; their minds were on the latest gossip, who stalked off with the God King, why the God Queen looked like such a hag- “What are we celebrating, Pollie?” Hephaestus quickly asked to keep his mind from wandering. Focus on Ares… He could trigger at any second…
“I learned a new domain!” Apollo exclaimed, floating up with a little spin. “I am Curing Health! Can you believe it? Dad was so happy he wanted to celebrate my bountiful achievements, and have the rest of the pantheon join in!”
Ah. Another domain. That wasn’t as much of a surprise, for as a god aged, their domains tended to expand. Apollo, specifically, seemed to have multiple, powerful domains, much like his father. And yet… “Hey, I didn’t have a party when I learned a new domain,” Hermes whined. To Ares (who was still fuming) he asked, “Did you ever have one, Ares?”
The question made everyone freeze. Ares’ snarl to Apollo faltered, and he took a step back from the group. His mind still thundered, but now there seemed to be an icy sadness. A strand of dark hair fell in his face. He looked down at Hermes and opened his mouth to answer, but Apollo beat him to it. “Why would Dad celebrate any of his domains? He’s just War and Bloodlust, there’s nothing good about that.”
When Ares’ mental storm cracked, Hephaestus teleported to Hermes to keep him away from their oldest brother. Ares’ hands snapped to life with flames that quickly manifested into lighting. His mind was clouding words, thoughts… All that was left was rage. Why did Mother make him come to this?!
“Fuck you!” He snarled, his pupils dilating and darkening. “You arrogant little shit… I should have put you in your place a long time ago!”
“Oh really?” No Pollie, don’t! Apollo grinned at his brother’s fury. Hermes swallowed, shrinking behind Hephaestus’ wheelchair. A crowd was forming around them, murmurs floating around about Hera’s Wild Boy. Ares couldn’t notice, all he was seeing and hearing was rage. “What are you going to do to me?”
Ares fell into the trap like lightning to a tree. “I’m gonna rip your little golden ass in half!”
He closed his fist and with a roar, Ares, of Ruthless War and Battles, swung at his child brother.
The punch didn’t connect. Instead, the God King appeared in a flurry of lightning, slamming his oldest son into the closest wall. “How dare you raise your hands at your brother!” He boomed. The crowd erupted into cheers and claps as Ares dropped to his knees. When Zeus bowed and hugged Apollo, Hephaestus quietly grit his teeth. “What excuse do you have for your mindless rage this time, boy?”
Ares didn’t respond right away, or at all. His head was down, and small golden pools dripped onto the floor. No one said a word, waiting for his response. “Answer me!” The God King roared to his oldest son.
Why isn’t he responding? Hephaestus couldn’t help but wonder. Any other time, Ares would have tried to strike again with lightning ablaze and a mind lost to bloodlust. Now, he simply sat on the ground, shaking. He entered his brother’s mind, and the smith’s eyes widened at what he heard. His storm was still swirling and crackling and clouding, but through it all, there was a word… or rather, a number.
F...five…
Is he… counting?
Four…
He’s… trying to calm down! Hephaestus’ smile grew despite the heavy tension. His father noticed as well, and his anger settled into disgust. Apollo, being his Golden Boy, mimicked his reaction.
… Three…
Ares’ breathing slowed. The mental clouds dissipated. The numbers were clearer, louder. He’s actually doing it!
Two…
He stood again, showing his face. His curls were full of rubble from the wall, but his eyes were clear and aware. Nothing like before. When he looked at Hephaestus, he gave a single nod before his own smile grew.
“One.” Ares said with a sigh. Dark clouds still hung in his mind, but they were small and simple to ignore. After looking at his still hands, he met his father’s gaze and gave his truth. “I’ve been tired and irritated all night. I don’t… It’s hard to focus with too many people around, and there was so much noise. I wanted to stay in my room, but Mama wanted me to come, so I did. Apollo came over and started talking shit, and I… I almost lost it.”
Even the music stopped now. The only noise was Ares’ smooth and heavy voice. He ran a hand through his hair to shake out the rocks. He sighed and looked down to Apollo. “Pollie, I’m sorry. I really wanted to kill you, and that wasn’t okay.”
An awkward silence hung after his words. Hephaestus couldn’t stop beaming, and it took an immense amount of control to stay in his place and not tackle Ares in a hug. I knew he could do it! All he needed was some time!
“Hey, Pollie,” Hermes penetrated the silence, stepping forward. Hephaestus was so fixated on his older brother’s success, he had completely missed the young god’s mental frustration towards Apollo. “You should apologize, too.”
He should. But he won’t. The smith knew better, and when Apollo’s smile crept back onto his soft lips, he knew the shining god knew better, too. “What for, my son?” Zeus asked with an uncanny gentleness that grated Hephaestus’ ears. “Apollo wasn’t the one who was filled with such tasteless savagery. He knows better than to embarrass himself in such a manner.”
“Father is right, Hermes,” Apollo sang, stepping forward to Ares. He smiled up, and Ares obviously shrank away from him again. His mind was cluttered with confusion. Every question Ares’ mind asked made Hephaestus’ smile falter further into a frown. Why isn’t he happy? Why are they still mad? Did I do the right thing? “I’m not a weapon. I can keep my temper without causing a scene.”
“And since you seem to be unable to control yourself, you can leave this place. You were lucky that your brother even wanted to invite you, despite my warnings.” Zeus pointed to the hall, away from the party. “But you clearly don’t appreciate his kindness or my patience.”
Ares looked around to see the God King’s subjects mimic his distaste. They murmured and whispered - how could Hera let her son do such a thing to Apollo? - and Hephaestus could tell that his older brother wasn’t able to understand. His mannerisms seemed so out of place; a god that towered over everyone, trembling before his teenage golden brother. “But… I didn’t hurt him!” He protested, his desperation on full display in his cracking voice. “I kept myself from triggering-”
“That doesn’t matter. You could have hurt him, and everyone else here. Do not make me tell you to leave again. You don’t belong here.”
Hephaestus’ fists clenched when Ares’ eyes cast down, defeated. He didn’t utter a word as the crowd let him pass, their thoughts revealing their disdain for the god. He’s so creepy… What’s wrong with him? So many Soul Scars… what a freak… Poor Apollo, having to deal with him all the time… The smith had to bite his tongue to keep himself from crushing multiple consciousnesses.
The moment he was out of sight, the crowd of lackeys cheered as Zeus lifted his golden son into the air. “Are you alright my boy?” He asked.
“Yes, Dad I’m fine,” Apollo’s smile shone wide. Hephaestus peered to Hermes, who seemed to be equally fed up. His mind wasn’t clouded like Ares - no one’s was - but his thoughts burned and whipped around… was that sadness? Hephaestus couldn’t tell. “Can we keep the party going now?”
“Of course, my son! Music, please!” Just like that, the lyres and flutes picked up again, and everyone fell back into their rhythm. Zeus laughed, and immediately twirled his son, laughing and bellowing cheers and praises for his Golden Boy.
Hephaestus simply watched. His stomach turned the more people laughed. When some satyr proposed a toast to vanquishing the crazed war god, the smith, sharply turned and wheeled himself to the door. “Son!” His father called, and Hephaestus had to will his mind to not wheel faster. “Leaving already?”
“Yeah,” The smith replied with a clipped tone. He didn’t look back. “I’m tired, and I have work to do. Divine farewell.” No more words were exchanged, even after Apollo called for him. What a party…
Once in the halls again, his psychic clarity gave him strength to wheel faster. He needed to find his brother. Mount Olympus was so large… Where could he have gone?
“Phee?” A small voice called behind him. Hephaestus turned to see Hermes standing right outside the party. The dark lights hollowed his young face, and his eyes were gold shot. He sniffed and took small steps, before he flew into his older brother’s arms. The smith held him tightly, and asked with a low voice, “You’re done with the party, too?”
“Yeah.” He answered simply as Hephaestus fixed his cap again. He continued to wheel with Hermes in his lap, hearing his clogged anger in his mind. “Apollo is a dick.”
“Hey,” The smith chided. “It’s not nice to call him names, you know.”
“I don’t care. He… he crossed the line. Ares didn’t touch him, and Dad made a big deal about it.” Hermes’ eyes narrowed with his words, trembling in his big brother’s arms. “He did it on purpose… he just wanted to be a damn hero. That wasn’t fair.”
Like a pin dropping in a silent room, words came to Hermes’ mind. The little god gasped, and when Hephaestus heard them, did the same.
Of Protected Boundaries.
“I got a domain…” Hermes whispered.
“You did,” Hephaestus confirmed with a smile. “A strong one, too. Good job!”
“But why now?”
“Only Khaos knows, domains come when they’re realized.”
A pause, and then, “Dad’s not going to throw me a party… is he?”
Hermes looked up to his brother with so much innocence, the smith didn’t have the heart to give him truth. His smile came after a second’s hesitation with, “If you ask him for one, sure.”
Hephaestus knew Hermes wasn’t an idiot. And he knew that answer wouldn’t satisfy the child, even without access to his thoughts. “Apollo doesn’t have to ask.”
“No... he doesn’t.”
Their conversation was cut short when loud, heavy sobs could be heard from behind a door. On it was the name Hebe in the Divine Language. Hephaestus stopped in front of it, and Hermes hopped off of him. They exchanged nervous looks before Hermes knocked on the door twice.
A small girl answered. She cracked the door open with flared golden wings and bared teeth. She hisses with her pointed ears high and alert. “He is very upset,” She said, her voice naturally a whisper. “What went wrong?”
“Hebe…” Hephaestus started slowly, knowing what his younger sister’s teeth were capable of when angered. “Is he in there? Hermes and I wanted to check on him.”
“What went wrong?” She asked again, her malice bringing her small voice into a rumble.
“Apollo was acting like a dick, and then Dad got mad at Ares for wanting to punch him.” Hermes explained quickly. “Please, Hebe… we want to cheer him up.”
She paused and looked back into her room for a second before looking back at her brothers. Her ears came down and the door opened wider, giving the duo a way of entry.
Ares was on her bed, with crossed legs and marked hands covering his eyes. Hebe used her little wings to flap back into his lap, where he engulfed her into his arms. His mind was frantic and extreme with confusion and hurt. Questions racked his thoughts, endless and pathetic.
What did I do wrong? Wasn’t I good? Why doesn’t he like me? Why doesn’t anybody like me?
“Ares,” Hephaestus called, wheeling himself forward. Hermes stayed in his place, and the smith wasn’t surprised. It was the first time the young god had seen Ares so emotional. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong-”
“I had to do something bad!” He yelled, and not one of his siblings flinched at his voice. “I… I always do something wrong! I’m wrong… even when I try really hard not to be…”
He sniffed, and Hebe cupped his cheeks. She didn’t say anything, and her confidence surprised Hephaestus. Her thoughts were directed and clear, focused on her brother. I can help him. “Don’t talk like that, big brother,” She chided. “It will make you worse.”
“Hebe is right,” Hermes spoke up. “You controlled yourself. And Apollo took advantage of you. Dad… doesn’t see things sometimes, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist… right?”
Oh Hermes… None of the God Queen’s children responded. How could they? They had no world without the God King’s word. Mother showed them he was always right. Always. Hephaestus almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. He didn’t blame his half-brother’s thinking. Hermes was only around 10 Divine years old, a child who had yet to fully realize the importance of the God King’s might. Then again… his mother didn’t rely on the God King’s very being. We weren’t raised like you.
When the young god was met with silence, he didn’t give up. “Ares, you helped me find a new domain!” He told him, climbing onto the bed with his half-siblings. “Nobody’s done that before, not even Apollo or Dad! I am of Protected Boundaries… and that’s thanks to you.”
Hebe’s smile grew when Ares noticed him. Hephaestus could tell it was hard for the war god to recognize anything with his emotions clouding his senses. “I helped you?” He asked, his voice no more than a brusque whisper.
“Sure did.” Hermes told him with a nod. “You always do! You just never seem to notice…”
“I… If he doesn’t care, then it doesn’t matter.”
Hephaestus shivered when Ares quoted their mother. Too many times the smith would hear that statement, and too many times he’d ignore it. His mind dazed with Ares’ future: full of unfulfillment and misery, forever stuck in an attempt to please his King. A carbon copy of Mother… I can’t let that happen to him. I can’t! I couldn’t save Mother… but I can help him!
“Ares, don’t say that,” Hephaestus spoke up, his soul aflame with malcontent. “Don’t think like Mother. Hermes is right… there is a world outside of his opinion. I’m proud of you. You used the count well, and didn’t even stop. Even if Dad doesn’t see that as an achievement, I do. We do. Doesn’t that matter?”
Hephaestus waited, knowing his words would take time to process for Ares. Hebe looked to her eldest brother, eager for his reaction. Hermes looked as if he were holding his breath. Ares’ eyes were faded, his mental storm giving away. This time, there was no count behind the clouds, but an affirmation.
“Okay, Phee.” He answered, tired. “I’ll try… Will I be happier this way? Without… him?”
The question caught the smith off guard. How do I respond to that? How would he know, when the God King assigned research and trinkets at any and every moment?
My life revolves around what he gives me... I can live with that. He tried not to shudder at the thought. But he can’t. Ares can’t take this anymore. “I… don’t know. But we can try that… together. A world without him. How does that sound?” His tight lips broke into a smile.
“Wow, a world with no parents!” Hermes exclaimed, too young to catch what Hephaestus meant. “No rules! That sounds awesome! I’d be a great king. Just imagine! Me on the throne, on top of the world! Gambling would be legal for all ages!"
Ares snickers and rubbed Hermes’ cap into his hair. His little laugh spread to make Hebe giggle, and then the oldest brothers chimed in, too.
“A world without him,” Ares breathed. Hephaestus noticed his eyes, clear and full. For now, his dark mental clouds strayed to the back of his mind. The smith was relieved to hear his brother’s thoughts again. “I’ll get there, someday.”
Hermes asked what he meant, but Hephaestus knew.
He will find his happiness. Someday.