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The blood moon hung low in the sky, casting a sombre, red glow over everything in sight. The world was hushed as if it had been put to sleep by the crimson light. Shadows stretched out across the ground, dark and foreboding and pained whispers of wandering spirits filled the air.
Never let it be said that Hades wasn’t a dramatic God.
Hermes rolled his eyes and soared over Acheron following the River of Woe until it poured into Cyctus; the River of Lamentation.
He lifted two fingers and saluted a dour Charon. The aged boatman was once again ferrying a horde of souls to the farther bank, where stood the adamantine gate to Tartarus.
Soon, Cerberus would grant the spirits entrance to the Land of No Return and they would be brought before Rhadamanthus, Minos and Aeacus. Only the good would be allowed to enter the Elysian Fields where they would enjoy eternal bliss.
Hermes wondered how many of his worshipers were sent to an everlasting torment. After all, the Divine Herald was also the God of thievery and cunning. He had proven himself to be the most extraordinary pert and precocious being to ever draw breath since Mother Maia; the loveliest of the Pleiades, gave birth to him on the Corinthian slopes of Mount Cyllene.
Very ingenious, eloquent and persuasive he had coaxed Father Zeus into making him the Divine Herald when he was but a baby.
“Which I do regret at times,” he made a graceful turn, the wings on his Talaria fluttering swiftly. He was ever grateful to Hephaestus for gifting him the Talaria and the Petasos. Hermes had even achieved the impossible and made Hera present him with her cheek to be kissed as she announced him the most enchanting child. An unmatched feat for the Goddess of Heaven hated all bastards of Father Zeus with undying passion.
The Caduceus he carried at all times was yet another gift from Hephaestus that lent him an extra touch of élan and glamour and showed the Mortal Realm and Underworld alike that this pert and handsome God represented the dreaded majesty of Mount Olympus.
“Hades, why you? May Father Zeus hurl his blazing bolts at you. Must you steal Persephone and make Demeter cry endless tears?” he sighed. The God of the Underworld had managed to outwit them all forcing him to make this trip to the Realm of the Dead. They should’ve never underestimated his wit. And now, he was asked by Father Zeus to return Persephone to her mother.
“Zeus has no power here,” Hades, in all his sombre glory, emerged from the shadows.
Hermes lifted a brow and landed soundlessly. “Demeter had never wronged you. Persephone belongs with her mother.”
“Aren’t you going to use your tricks on me and make me divulge my beloved’s whereabouts?” Hades smirked.
Cognizant of the fact that the God of the Underworld was taunting him, Hermes crossed his arms over his chest. “I can lead Demeter to her precious daughter. I know this place like the back of my hand.”
“You dare!” All joviality left Hades’ face and his expression became so forbidden it would’ve made a lesser God sweat. “Persephone is mine to keep.”
“If she wants to belong to you,” he said firmly. “I have no grudges against you but you know very well that you are no match for me.”
Hades glared at him but kept his mouth shut. He knew that Hermes said nothing but the truth. Of all the Gods he was the most cunning. In fact, he was the Master Thief, who started upon his career before he was a day old and talked Apollo into giving him the sacred white cattle he prized highly in exchange for the Lyre he made of a tortoiseshell.
For a moment, Hades looked like he was losing control of the situation. His expression, however, brightened suddenly. “You know, nephew mine, the Thriae foretold a most curious thing.”
Hermes stiffened. Even though he had spent a fortnight with the three Nymphs of Mount Parnassus learning how to foretell the future from the dance of pebbles in a basin of holy water and had assisted the Fates in the composition of Alphabet, he was not fond of both.
Aeons ago, the Fates weaved a thread which augured that one day, a woman of unmatched beauty and cunning would sear his mind, brand his soul and make him swear to never be unfaithful to her on pain of being blinded. Hermes had steered away from all women and Nymphs for centuries. He had already fathered enough sons and daughters to keep his legacy alive.
The idea of finding a woman with wit that matched his was ridiculous. He took great pride in being the smartest of all beings. Everything about him was quick. His mind, his wit, his impulses and his reflexes.
Could such a woman exist? He wouldn’t mind giving her the oath she demanded if she were to prove herself.
“I was unaware that you were the kind to submit to the Fates,” he retorted instead. “The Fates also weaved a thread that foretold a reunion between Demeter and Persephone.”
“My beloved will never leave my kingdom,” Hades replied scornfully. “She even made a friend of my daughter.”
“Daughter?” Hermes repeated in a sharp, authoritative voice that normally quelled anyone who heard it.
It only made Hades almost double over with laughter. “Yes. She is the daughter the Fates gifted me. She spent eighteen years in the Mortal Realm but she was back to where she belonged.”
“Father Zeus doesn’t know,” Hermes narrowed his eyes. As the Divine Herald and Zeus’ favourite child, it was his duty to report all things to Mount Olympus.
A daughter of Hades with unknown powers was not to be taken lightly. He could not let another Half-Goddess or worse yet, Goddess cause trouble and threaten his father’s reign. Aware that Hades would never submit to Zeus, Hermes understood that he had no choice but to meet this woman and judge her character.
“Take me to her,” he demanded sternly.
“Are you, perchance, ordering me around, Hermes? Must I remind you that you are in my Realm?” Hades regarded him with bottomless dark eyes. “Your loyalty to Zeus is clouding your judgment.”
Truth be told, Hermes had no loyalty but to himself. Aeons ago, he warned Father Zeus that he could not promise to tell always the truth. Nevertheless, he was a mediator and wanted to keep peace between the warring Gods. Hades’ power was increasing with every passing day and he couldn’t help but fear that the confrontation he dreaded between the Chief God and the God of the Underworld was already upon them.
Hades was audacious enough to steal Persephone unruffled by her mother’s ire. He was blatantly challenging Zeus’ authority.
He could tell he wanted her for real. Was she safe with him? Hermes thought so. Whenever he pronounced her name, Hades’ voice became gentler, softer. It spoke of the affection he held for the red-haired beauty.
“If I let you see my daughter, you have to give me your word not lead Demeter to Persephone,” Hades warned.
Hades’ words didn’t have any noticeable effect. Hermes could always find a way to go back on his word and save his cousin. He persevered with firm determination. “As long as your daughter harbours no ill intent towards Mount Olympus’ residents.”
Hades’ shrugged but his eyes sparkled with amusement. “You will find that it is not easy to control Moira. She is quite unpredictable and resourceful. After all, she defeated the Darkest Lord the Mortal Realm had ever known with her powers bound.”
Hermes nodded. Hades smirked and twirled around, leading him to the Elysian Fields.
As he drew nearer he became aware of a sound emerging from inside the gates–a sound such as he had never heard before. And considering he was the one who invented the Lyre, it made little sense.
It was as if sweetness and love and perfection and all that was beautiful had come to life and were gently coursing through his ears and into his very soul. Just as the scent of ambrosia enticed a God to the table and made him sigh with glorious anticipation.
It reminded him how the sight of a young nymph used to cause the hot ichor in his veins to sing and fizz and how the warm touch of skin on skin used to thrill him to his deeps, now these invisible noises seduced and bewitched him until he feared he might go mad and lose his composure.
The magical sound abruptly stopped and the spell was broken. Hermes blinked when he heard a woman’s amused laugh. “You should have seen his face when I visited Tartarus yesterday. He kept shaking his head like a simpleton and swearing I could not be Hades’ daughter. As if I would ever let him know my real identity while we were up there.”
Dazedly, Hermes listened as a man cackled. “You fooled everyone, Moira. I cannot believe that James and Lily hid the truth from me.” Hermes heard a frustrated groan. “I’m not sure I can forgive you for playing this prank on me, Prongs.”
“Oh come on, Sirius. None of us was meant for a long life anyway. And what’s life without a few pranks? Moira knows you love her and that’s all that matters. She might be Hades’ daughter but she’s ours as well.”
“Of course, she is,” another woman said softly. “The night he entrusted her to us was the best night in our lives. I’m grateful I accepted your courtship, James. Had I known that the Potters were Hades’ Chosen I would’ve taken pity on you sooner.”
“So you admit you regret turning me down like….how many times was it again, Padfoot?”
“I believe it was seventy times,” the man called Padfoot snorted.
“You are impossible,” the woman huffed.
“And you as lovely as ever, Lily-Flower,” the man said huskily.
“Er…we can hear you, you know.”
Hermes savoured the dulcet voice that left her throat. “Who are they?” He turned to Hades
The older God gave him a knowing smile. “The Mortals who took care of Moira while she was in their Realm. Most would say, they are incorrigible tricksters but I knew they would give their lives to protect my daughter, which they did when Pirithous sent his minion to kill her.”
Uncertain if the unbelievable notion forming in his head was correct, Hermes asked slowly. “You mean that your daughter fought against Pirithous and his minion without her powers and won?”
Hades’ shoulders shook with merry laughter. “My daughter was blessed by Hecate since birth. She is my true Heiress and the carrier of my will. Hecate knew I abhor leaving my Kingdom, so she chose Moira. It is her destiny to take care of Wixen’s souls and guide them to us for judgment.”
Drawing closer, Hermes stared curiously at the seemingly happy family, touched by the tender scene they offered.
He could not help but be aware of the sparkling allure of the tall woman sitting in the middle. She was exotic, remarkable.
Although he glided soundlessly, she whirled around and he was rendered speechless when her vivid green eyes settled on him.
Everything about her was blessed by Hecate indeed. Bewitching, beguiling. Pale, luminous skin, a mouth shaped with surprising lushness, a pert little nose.
She watched him in silence and her lips lifted in a smirk he swore she inherited from her father. “To what do we owe this honour, Divine Herald?”
Hermes felt a grin stealing over his face when the two men sitting next to her froze.
“Divine Herald? You mean…” The long-haired one he supposed was named Sirius spluttered.
“The one and only. Hermes,” the man with twinkling hazel eyes grinned widely.
She stood gracefully and ventured closer. Raising on her tiptoes, she kissed Hades’ cheek. “Father.”
The tender gesture caused Hermes’ heart to pump with unexpected jealousy. Gods of Mount Olympus seldom showed affection publicly. They considered it a weakness. Moreover, it could put their loved ones in danger. The way Hera treated Father Zeus’ bastards was a warning everyone heeded carefully.
“I am Hermes, indeed,” he looked into her eyes and knew he was in so much trouble. No wonder Hades had fallen in love with Persephone at first sight.
“It is an honour to meet the twelfth God,” she lowered her head innocently. “I apologize for the circumstances did not allow for an earlier opportunity to present myself properly.”
He knew she was lying when her green eyes glittered with enjoyment. She had no intention of presenting herself to Father Zeus and her uncles and aunts.
“We can always remedy that, Moira. Father Zeus hates having things kept from him.”
She looked over her shoulder at the Mortals and winked. “And how would you present me, Hermes?”
“You..." The man called Sirius gasped.
“Well, I have to be sure because you see, I have been the Fates’ favourite since I drew my first breath and I know that Zeus would always be wary of me unless…”
He heard the way she played the flute and he believed that even if a quarrel threatened with Zeus, she could play tenderly and soothingly so that the fiercest of Gods would grow calm and forget his anger. He feared that her talent rivalled that of Apollo.
“Unless…” he said instead, getting closer to her and enjoying the mischievous smile she offered.
“Father would never leave the Underworld and I am not known to be eloquent and well-versed in the Gods' court manners. Will I be safe?”
His eyes lingered on her face and he wondered why he couldn’t take his eyes away. He had not desired a female in centuries, the Fates’ prophecy always resonating in his ears.
“What if I were to offer you my protection?” He pretended not to notice the way Hades’ grin broadened.
She eased her head back and stared into his eyes stubbornly. ‘’Surely, you know Zeus’ character. I do not plan to become another affair.”
Liquid fire raced through Hermes’ veins at her words. He could not allow his father to possess this fierce, mighty creature.
He could already surmise how loyal and protective of her people she was. She had endured a life in the Mortal Realm for years to keep her identity hidden. No woman had ever reigned in the Underworld. Hades was a possessive bastard who never shared his power. For him to choose her as his Heiress spoke volumes of what she was capable of.
The ichor in his veins called for her and somehow, he knew she was the one the Fates had chosen for him.
His gaze flickered to her feet and he became momentarily still when a pomegranate seed sprouted from the moist soil. Only Hades and those who carried his ichor commanded the fruit of blood and death and…eternal bonds.
“Would you take it?” she met his gaze without blinking. “I have always known that my destiny lay elsewhere. I am the link between the three Realms and the bringer of balance.”
“But your place is with your father,” he answered, troubled by the reminder. He could already see himself missing her.
“Maybe it is time for me to give you something, Hermes. I was not there when you presented yourself to Zeus for the first time,” Hades said firmly.
Impulsively, he closed his fingers around the seed and waited.
“You will carry your worshippers’ souls to me. That way, you can accompany Moira in her journeys between the Realms.”
Moira tilted her head to the side waiting and a silky swath of black hair spilled over her cheek as a smile crossed her face. “I will need your vow, though. I might be Hades’ daughter but I am a Potter as well and Potters love only once and bond for life.”
“Well said, Prongslet,” James jumped to his feet and exchanged a satisfied smirk with his wife. “We raised her well.”
Hermes crossed the distance between them and intertwined their fingers, the pomegranate seed scorched their skin as he took the vow he swore he would never give. ‘’I swear I will love no other but you, Moira of the Underworld.”
Hermes reckoned he should be bothered for he had been played masterfully by Hades and his daughter.
However, as he looked into Moira’s eyes, he saw nothing but his future.