Archive of Our Own

“Mother,” Hephaestus opened his mouth in an emboldened sense of bravery. “I have something to ask of you and Father.”

He never liked eating supper - or any meal - with his family; the awkward silence ruined any optimistic feeling Hephaestus had. More often than not, he studied the work of the tables and spent the time jotting down notes for assignments his father gave him. Today, a spark of inspiration replaced the usual dread.

Over the past six Mortal days, the young prince carefully planned this interaction. He knew his question held the utmost importance and wanted to corner his parents during a time when they’d both be present and silent. Neither spoke during their nightly supper, so Hephaestus eagerly took the opportunity to strike. Depending on who answered, Hephaestus had a plan to act accordingly. 

“Speak, child,” The King of Gods offered, gesturing to the young blacksmith with his fork. He didn’t look up from his plate, almost as if Hephaestus didn’t probe a question in the first place. He swallowed down his bubbling anger at his father’s dismissiveness. “What is it you need?”

Father is asking, Hephaestus reminded himself, pushing his emotions back to the pits of his stomach. Get him involved. Make him think he will benefit. “I want to take an expedition to the southern graveyard, as aged weaponry resides there that I can study to modify newer models.”

In part, Hephaestus spoke his truth. He longed to see weapons from the eras before him in person, concluding that a more intimate examination could advance his plans. However, another reason compelled him to make such a visit, which he kept close behind the walls of his mind. The southern graveyard holds many secrets…  Spirit Magic included. If I can get my hands on just one weapon with some residue…

“The southern graveyard?” Zeus inquired with a raised eyebrow. His spoon paused in his stew. Hephaestus observed his every move, each second defining a new direction for Hephaestus to take. “That is a dangerous land, child. Must you go on your own?” 

Hephaestus eased into his argument calmly. “Others wouldn’t know where to look or what to look for. The weapons collection in the southern graveyard is vast and immeasurable, and Athena and I are the only ones able to determine how extensive that trove is. Maybe even a sacred weapon might lurk in its trenches.”

He refrained from smirking when Zeus hummed, mulling over the proposition. Hephaestus knew even his father couldn’t resist the pull of a sacred weapon’s power. The 12 original Titans each had a unique weapon they used to defeat the Sky King Oranous. Hephaestus studied all of them from Prometheus’s records despite the blueprints giving more questions than answers.

“You make a good point, child.” The King of the Gods added with a stroke of his chin. “It has been… some time since someone has ventured there. What do you say, Hera?”

From the other side of the dining table, Hephaestus’s mother looked up from her plate. He refused to look at her, knowing her opinion already. His fists clenched in his lap. “If you find going there valuable, then do so,” She waved her fork in the air. “Whatever is easiest.”

A conflicting wave bubbled in Hephaestus’s chest. His mother following his father’s lead worked well for his plan, but he couldn’t deny the inevitable frustration. I want to go to one of the most dangerous parts of the Divine Realm, Hephaestus mentally noted, trying to keep his breath even and calm. And you only care about what’s easiest. Typical Mother. Typical. 

Zeus nodded. Hephaestus didn’t have to read his mind to know his father also expected that answer. “You can assemble a convoy for deployment,” Zeus turned his attention back to his son. “I will need names, dates, and a concrete plan. Athena can take you.”

No!! “No!” Hephaestus exclaimed. After tense hesitation, he cleared his throat and continued. “Forgive me… but I don’t need Athena. I have a better idea.”

The movement almost went unnoticed, but Hephaestus caught his father’s narrowing eyes. A flash of lightning sparked across them, and Hephaestus nearly flinched. Nothing needed to be said, the young Olympian knew. Tread carefully, Hephaestus reminded himself. He’s still in control. Do not stray from the plan. “Do you, now?” Zeus asked. “Let me hear what this better plan is.”

“I want to take Ares with me.”

The silence penetrated the dining hall as the King and Queen processed the offer. Across from Hephaestus, the elder god looked up from his hefty meal with wide eyes. Ares seemed unfazed by the silence before Hephaestus began his plan, probably just eager to leave his room. Hephaestus doubted Ares was even listening to the conversation before someone spoke his name. His thoughts blurred with excitement as a freakish smile bloomed. “You want to take me, Phee?” He asked, his rumbling voice breaking the silence like a vase falling on the floor. 

“Yes,” Hephaestus smiled back with a nod. “You are the only god I find capable enough to withstand the unpredictability of the southern graveyard. Plans are futile against forces like Spirit magic. And who better to challenge that than the very being you made with them?” He let the proposition sit in the air, resisting to falter under the growing tension. 

Ares perked up and added, “I like that idea, Phee! I’ll keep you very safe because that’s what brothers do.” Despite Ares’s disturbing mental state, Hephaestus knew his brother had an acute sense of emotions. He fed off of negative ones like a parasite, and it often gave him a ravenous appetite for death. Hephaestus had seen it for himself, and witnessing the God of War’s wrath never grew easier.

However, Hephaestus smiled, knowing his brother spoke the truth. 

“We’re going to protect each other,” He told his elder brother. “I’ve devised a strategy that accounts for every known situation in the southern graveyard, including the Spiritual ones. With Ares at my side, it’s infallible.”

The silence made Hephaestus falter, wondering why his father didn’t immediately agree. He knew adding Ares into his equation could prove to play a risky gamble. Without Ares, Hephaestus didn't think he'd be safe enough. “You’ve thought about this,” Zeus finally broke through the thick tension with his passive voice. “As always, you leave no stone unturned, just like your sister.”

Never compare me to her. Hephaestus mentally snapped. He quickly retracted the statement, hoping Athena didn’t linger nearby. If she did, she didn’t make her presence known. 

“But, Hephaestus, the weapon is not an accountable factor.” Zeus continued, his eyes forcing Hephaestus to look directly into them. The young blacksmith swallowed down a gasp. “Have you stopped to think that it has its unpredictability? It will only cause disarray if not harm.” 

Anger boiled within Hephaestus. He put on the practiced smile he learned from his mother, taking a quick breath to relax. Of course, He reasoned. They don’t trust him. That’s fine. “I understand, Father,” Hephaestus lied through his dimming voice. “Forgive me for asking such an absurd question.”

He looked across the table, ashamed that he said such a thing about his brother. Ares didn’t seem to pay attention anymore, returning to his dinner. Hephaestus heard Zeus forgive him, going on another tangent about how Ares needed delicate treatment. It made Hephaestus’s stomach churn. My brother is not a weapon! He’s a child, just like me! Why can’t anyone see that?

Hephaestus picked up his fork, finishing his dinner in silence. He knew better than to cry from his failure and understood the topic dropped. He didn’t want to give up for a multitude of reasons. A resounding sense of spite tightened his breathing. Ares is a capable god. He knows. 

I don’t care what he or anyone else tells me. Hephaestus told himself in the recesses of his mind. Ares will come with me. Even if I have to rip him out of his cell myself. 

Like every other dinner, Hephaestus dismissed himself when he finished eating and returned to his beloved forge. He missed the thick heat from the depths of the tunnels, even if he had only been above them for less than two Mortal hours. He began to plot for his brother’s escape, manifesting scenarios through trial and error. Only one prevailed, and it made Hephaestus queasy.

I don’t have a choice. I have to mentally subdue the guards. And somehow, I need to make sure Athena doesn’t notice. She could ruin everything… I have to wait until she sleeps…

Hephaestus didn’t mind. He thrived with patience as it gave him more time to think, work, and study. Despite the night failing, Hephaestus floated into bed with a smile, eager for his journey to the southern graveyard.

***

Mortal days went by as Hephaestus planned. He didn't mention his newfound plan nor bring up any updates about the southern graveyard at supper. Ares asked at random times, and Hephaestus redirected him to maintain cover. All the while, Hephaestus used minimal mental contact to watch his tracks.  

On the third Mortal night, Athena checked in on him with a mental whisper. Hephaestus didn’t flinch in his forge, keeping his attention on a small project. Brother, you are focused. 

I am. Hephaestus responded, minding his mental tone. Any emotion could lead to questions. He screwed two metals together, infusing them with his heat. Is that abnormal, sister?

No… I merely miss you speaking. The confession shocked Hephaestus, and he had to wrangle his thoughts immediately before he triggered any alarms. If I may ask, what is it that has your mind in such a tight grip? 

The usual. I have lots of work to do. Hephaestus let the question sit before he timed his sentence. You’re attentive today.

I must attend to you and your mind. But I must rest now. Hephaestus suppressed a grin. Do well to finish your tasks and stay away from mischief. 

I will. Like clockwork, Athena's mental presence dimmed. Hephaestus waited extra Mortal seconds before he straightened his posture in his chair and left his forge.

Hephaestus swallowed, wheeling up to the guarded cell. He lightly searched for mental voices, hearing the two guards immediately. Past them, inside the locked chamber, rumbled a faded mind so faint that Hephaestus almost missed it. It made him gasp, realizing the volcanic mind belonged to his brother sleeping. He distanced himself from Ares’s mind to prevent startling him awake. If he’s asleep, then that means he’s calm. Hephaestus reasoned. That makes this easier.

He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves as he reached his destination, right in front of the guards protecting the cell. “Divine greetings,” Hephaestus bowed, attempting to set a casual tone. “How is the patrol?”

They exchanged a wary glance before the left guard raised his voice. He didn’t look down at the child before him. “As well as it can, Your Grace,” He replied, straightening his shoulders. “The weapon must be safeguarded at all costs.”

Hephaestus knew the guards didn’t choose to call Ares a weapon, as his father mandated it across the Realm. Still, the gesture made Hephaestus grit his teeth. “Of course,” He plastered a fake smile as he continued. “If the weapon were ever to escape, the Divine Realm could crumble beneath his feet. It would certainly be a shame if that happened.”

“Indeed.” The right interjected. He had more bulk and muscle than the leaner left guard, but luckily for Hephaestus, that didn’t matter to him. “Did you need something, Your Grace?”

“Ah, yes!” Hephaestus stammered, his feet growing cold. Make it quick. Just like Athena does. His breath quickened as he held out his hands, a physical urge to steady his nerves. Hephaestus repeated his mantra, slowly edging his mind to both guards. As he pooled deeper past their thoughts, he hit strong walls. Hephaestus gasped, causing the right one to reach out to the prince. In shock, his mind exploded and penetrated the barriers like a knife through cheese. He barely remembered his strategy once inside, bombarded with panic and confusion. The mental states almost mirrored Ares’s mind, but even his had less force.

Hephaestus hated the feeling and immediately regretted even trying. He wanted to retreat and hide in his foraging tunnels to scrub his brain of his misdeed. But… his curiosity about the southern graveyard grew, and the guards stood in the way. So, with shaky hands, Hephaestus focused on their minds, holding on to each consciousness. Rest. He told them again and again until their mental presence dimmed. The imposing feeling made him feel like his father, making him lose focus and leave their minds. 

As his vision returned to the darkened hall, Hephaestus blinked, wiping his sweaty hands on his trousers. To his utter relief, the guards lay on the floor, their chests rising and falling with their slow breathing. Externally, they looked healthy to Hephaestus. He only prayed to Gaia, hoping he left no mental scars. 

After another deep breath, he pushed his wheelchair forward to unlock the door. He memorized the lock configuration and expertly moved the inner locks with telekinesis. With a gentle push, the door creaked open. 

The room had no light, barely illuminated by the sole window leaking in the moonlight from the crescent moon—faint golden splotches and aged scratch marks stained the walls and stone floor. In the center of the cramped room curled a god, his hair tumbling around him. Hephaestus noticed its new length. He wheeled closer, realizing some ichor spots gleamed brighter than others, settling an uneasiness in Hephaestus’s stomach.

“Ares,” Hephaestus whispered, knowing all he needed to wake his brother. The oversized god stirred before shooting up, his royal violet eyes staring straight into Hephaestus’s soul. He dared not move as his brother pounced over, letting Ares readjust to the new lights and scents. 

He sniffed across Hephaestus’s body before a light rumble left Ares’s chest. “Phee!” He grinned and lifted Hephaestus, pulling his younger brother into a tight hug. 

“Hi, Ares,” Hephaestus didn’t hesitate to hug back, needing the warmth of his brother after his unsettling experience. “How are you? Have you been sleeping well?”

“No laughing tonight!” He rumbled, sitting up to cradle his brother. “No dreams! Did you come for a sleepover, Phee? There’s enough space for you.”

Hephaestus shook his head. “No, not tonight. We have to go. Now.”

“Outside?!”

“Yes, outside. And you have to stay quiet. No one’s supposed to know we’re leaving.”

Ares’s eyes widened, craning his neck down to sniff Hephaestus. After a questioning head tilt, Ares’s grin returned. “We’re going to the southern graveyard, aren’t we?”

Hephaestus hesitated before nodding. “Yes. And you aren’t supposed to go with me. So let’s get out of here before the guards wake up.”

Ares stood with Hephaestus in his arms and shifted the child to rest on his back. Hephaestus assumed the proper position, wrapping his arms around Ares’s thick neck. Ares hoisted him up by the legs, and they left his cell. He paused to look at the guards, hopping down on his hands to get a better sniff. “They aren’t dead,” He commented.

Hephaestus looked away, ashamed of the unsettling aftermath. “They were in the way,” He admitted with a low voice. “And I panicked…”

“You could have told me to kill them,” Ares offered, so calmly Hephaestus nearly shuddered. “They never fight back because they’re so afraid.” 

“Not today.. they don’t deserve to die… They tried to help me. And I didn’t hear them insulting you.”

Ares didn’t respond, but Hephaestus didn’t need him to. His thoughts still expelled confusion, but the younger Olympian opted to drop the conversation as Ares stalked away from the mess they made. Ares had quiet footsteps for someone so large, making little noise as they crept down the barren halls. To Hephaestus’s surprise and relief, no stray gods rushed past them to complete a task, leaving the brothers in a welcomed solitude.

They reached a window, and Ares paused, feeling the cold breeze wash over them. Hephaestus closed his eyes and exhaled, letting the fresh air overtake his senses. He didn’t give Ares a signal, as the elder Olympian already knew what to do. He crouched down, getting on his hands before he pounced, leaping into the outside world. Hephaestus couldn't resist squealing, even with the bumpy ride. 

Ares began to laugh, his wild barks echoing past the trees. Hephaestus wanted to care about the noises and getting caught, but he threw his caution to the wind in place of fun. Playtime rarely came to either prince of Olympus, so the brothers let their guard down. 

Finally, after endless running, Ares paused to heave. His breath came out in smoky puffs as he rumbled to warm up. “How do we get there?” He asked, his voice still grumbling like falling rocks. 

“Good question,” Hephaestus relaxed, pulling out a map from his pouch and unfolding it with his mind. He showed it to Ares, who instinctively sniffed it. “We left the South Wing, and… we need to head further south, closer to Mount Othrys. It’s not too far; we should be able to make it there and back within a Mortal night. That’s all the time I need for my research.”

“You weren’t lying to Zeus earlier,” Ares commented, grabbing the floating map and starting slower. “About a Sacred Weapon being there. Are you going to make me one?”

Hephaestus snorted. “I don’t have the power, but there are ways to make copies. Besides, there’s not a high chance of finding one. I mostly said that to bring you along, but… that didn’t work.”

“Well, I’m here now.” Ares finalized as he hoisted up Hephaestus again with one arm. “That’s all I care about.”

A dreadful realization mellowed Hephaestus’s otherwise warm mood. He was listening the entire time.  He swallowed, training his eyes on a tree. “You know, I don’t agree with what Father said about you,” He added. “You aren’t an anomaly I’m unprepared for. I know you better than everyone in the Divine Realm. I wanted you here with me.”

“I know,” Ares chirped, starting to hum as he worked into a light jog. His bare feet padded into the dirt, crunching leaves and twigs below him. A stray woodpecker flew away, startled. “It’s okay. I like it when you ask me for my help.”

Hephaestus smiled. “I always will,” He said without a second of hesitation. “There’s no one in the Divine Realm that I trust more. You always come first to me, Ares.”

After a hiccup of silence, Ares replied. “I care about you too, Phee. Brothers are supposed to care about each other.”

Hephaestus hummed at Ares’s words but said nothing in return. He noticed his older brother concerned himself with how a brother “should” act. Hephaestus chalked it up to a coping mechanism, considering Apollo didn’t want to do much with the giant war god. Then again, Ares didn’t consider Apollo a brother anyway, and Hermes barely could talk.

So why? Hephaestus wondered to himself. He almost asked, but the sight before him suppressed the question. 

The southern graveyard expanded across a wide, open valley, exposing numerous ruined graves. Ares hesitated at the sigh and stepped back from the moonlit grassland. His festered mind simmered with memories of screams and ichor, making Hephaestus squirm. “Ares,” He called, attempting to bring his elder brother back to reality. “Ares, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t like it here.” The young war god firmly declared, tightening his grip on his brother. “I don’t feel good, Phee…”

“I know,” Hephaestus responded with gentleness. He reached up to Ares’s cheek and rubbed it. Ares responded with a low hum and nuzzled his face into his brother’s hand. “We don’t have to stay long. All I need to do is go in, take some notes, and come out. And we could look for the sacred weapon in the meantime. It can be our secret. How does that sound?”

Hephaestus waited for Ares to respond to the offer, knowing the length it could take for his words to process, especially under his mental distress. Ares heaved, and after another shudder, he nodded once. “Okay. Not for long, though… This isn’t a good place.”

“I know…” Hephaestus agreed. In the silence of the night, Ares slowly stepped into the open field, taking care to avoid stray and exposed weapons. Hephaestus smiled, grateful for his pace. The lack of enthusiasm meant Hephaestus didn’t have to remind Ares to give him time to take notes and mental images. His pen flew across his notebook as he observed nearly every scattered weapon they passed. “These are incredible! Why weren’t these salvaged when the war ended?”

Ares mumbled despite the question being rhetorical. He set Hephaestus in front of an aged grave, crumbling and faded. He couldn’t make out the name, but he and Ares paused at it and silently paid their respects. Amid Ares’s mind, Hephaestus heard a broken, poorly constructed prayer with blurred and intense images. Hephaestus hoped Khaos understood him. After their prayer, Hephaestus grabbed a spear that laid before the grave. It looked used and rusted but had an otherworldly sheen that drew the young blacksmith towards it.

He knew better than to touch it with his hands, so he raised the weapon with telekinesis. Ares, who sat behind his brother, sniffed the spear and reeled back, growling at it like the spear spoke. “It smells evil, Phee,” Ares told him, refusing to relax.

Hephaestus frowned at him before returning to examine the artifact. “Does it?” Hephaestus toyed with Ares’s idea, opting to tease his brother to help him lighten up. “Why does it smell evil?”

“It burns.” Ares leaned over Hephaestus, casting a large shadow as he obscured the moonlight. “Everything used to burn… Don’t hurt yourself, Phee.” 

“Don’t worry, Ares,” Hephaestus reassured his brother with a soft tap on Ares’s thigh. “I do this all the time in my forge, nothing is going to happen from a simple inspection. It’s okay, you’re outside… you can relax a bit.”

Ares didn’t reply, unnerving Hephaestus. He swallowed back his concern as he continued to look at the marvelous weapon in an eerie silence. The dory had a mixture of metals and stones, glowing as it responded to Hephaestus’s elemental energy. He rested the spear in his lap to observe the wood used for the length. A quiet whistle left Hephaestus when he realized the spear had an inner mix of stones that also reacted to him. He lifted it for Ares to try it, but Ares recoiled away.  

Hephaestus frowned. He didn’t want to admit that his father could have been right about Ares. He didn’t expect this behavior from his brother. Hephaestus planned and anticipated for his Ares to enjoy himself. The discoveries within the southern graveyard hardly mattered with the war god’s wariness.

He rested the spear down and turned up to look his elder brother in the eyes. The war god’s eyes shot back and forth like a frightened animal. Hephaestus knew calling him wouldn’t work in this state. What can I do to help him… Hephaestus wondered, resting his small frame on Ares’s body. Not even the physical touch stopped Ares from slowing his breathing down.  

Take his mind. A dangerous idea bloomed through Hephaestus’s consciousness, making him flinch. He could never… no matter how tempting the idea became. It’s not like it would be hard. He doesn’t protect his thoughts. Hephaestus gritted his teeth. He wanted to scream or do anything to prevent the sinister idea from forming. Not again... Not after I took control of the guards. Tears welled in his eyes from complete shame. Ares leaned in again, sniffing him.  

He almost said something, but a strong gust of wind interrupted him. Ares looked up.  

Hephaestus heard another mental voice. Panic sped up Hephaestus’s breathing.

What a hesitant little prince. The voice whispered and overwhelmed Hephaestus’s mind in a single sentence. She didn't sound like Athena or any other woman Hephaestus knew. Another gust of wind pushed down against the Olympian princes. Ares snatched his brother up. Even Ares's warmth didn’t stop the prickling winds from making him shiver. You have nothing stopping you but yourself.

“Leave us alone!” Hephaestus snapped, frantically whipping his head around to find the source of the voice. In defense, he tightened his mental barriers, focusing on nothing but himself, Ares, and finding the voice. 

“Oh, I mean no harm, Prince Hephaestus,” A giggling voice tingled against Hephaestus’s ears. After a final burst of wind, the perpetrator landed behind the grave. She didn’t look tall, but Hephaestus stayed wary. Dark and dreadful wings jutted out from behind her, matching the sclera in her eyes. A daunting smile exposed predatory teeth like Ares’s, making Hephaesut swallow. Her electric blue hair marked the only bright part of her appearance. “I only wanted to have a quaint chat with you.”

“We’re busy,” Hephaestus countered at the mysterious woman, his mind walling up. Ares understood the threat and growled to intimidate the woman. 

“Are you?” Her smile didn’t fade. “Defiling graves is such a naughty thing for young boys like you. And even after your poor father warned you against going under these conditions.”

Hephaestus’s heart plunged into his stomach. “How do you know that?” He whispered as the fight in his voice evaporated. “You weren’t there-”

“I am everywhere, child,” Her voice echoed across the southern graveyard. She held out her pale arms, unfazed as Ares shuddered. “Everywhere. Can you guess why?”

She’s playing with me, Hephaestus realized, grunting in frustration. He didn’t have time to solve riddles when they had a deadline. “No,” Hephaestus tried to reply with a tone he heard his father use on his mother. “I’m not doing this right now.”

He heard her click his teeth. Hephaestus didn’t take that as a warning.

The mental pressure heightened, consuming every thought Hephaestus had. His tight mental walls shattered with ease. She’s psychic?! But that’s impossible! He tried to resist the impending scream, knowing better than to startle Ares. His resistance failed as Ares hopped away from his brother to prepare to pounce on the woman. “Don’t, Ares,” She warned against his vicious snarl. “Unless you want me to kill him. And I want both of you alive.”

Of course, he didn’t listen. He never did during times of war. He pounced, but the woman prepared for him, trapping him in an intense force field. Ares thrashed against it, roaring and clawing and biting. Hephaestus let the tears fall, scrambling to find a way to free his brother and escape. She didn't relent. Hephaestus struggled to focus on her mental presence from crushing him.

“This can go away, Hephaestus,” She teased. Hephaestus heard bare feet pressing into the ground. He squirmed away from the sound. She pulled him up with one arm before he crawled too far. His mind scrambled to piece itself together to teleport, but no clarity came. “I want to experiment on you and your brother. It will be fun, I promise.”

“Fine!!” Hephaestus screamed before silence swallowed the night. He gave Ares a nod, hoping the gesture would ease his brother. To his surprise, Ares plopped on the ground, not taking his eyes away from the two deities. With utmost care, Hephaestus ripped his eyes away from his brother and back to the vile woman. “Alright. You have our attention. What do you want?”

“You, of course!” She cackled, making Ares bristle. “The two of you are the most fascinating gods in the Divine Realm. You, Hephaestus, are the newest natural-born psychic. Like me. They never treat you with the reverence you deserve, do they?”

Hephaestus knew who the woman referred to, and he still refused to answer. He knew better than to indulge. Instead, his mind scrambled for a plan of escape. I need to break that barrier.

What you need to do is pay attention to me. The winged woman told him, invading his mental space. He almost squealed in surprise before dread clogged his throat. His eyes returned to hers, and her grin didn’t shift once. Good boy. 

I don’t understand!! Hephaestus couldn’t find the words, using his unfiltered mind to echo his thoughts. Ares only started, pressing onto the forcefield. There are only three recorded psychics. If you were one, I’d know about it.

There is much you don’t know about this world or yourself. I would be more than willing to teach you. Eris's voice slithered and hissed, much like a snake. Hephaestus felt like prey, wanting to escape her constricting mental hold. Your mother and father waste your natural-born talent. Shameful.

I don’t want to be like you, or like anyone else! Hephaestus retorted. You will not tell me how to be a god. I won’t follow in your or anyone else’s footsteps. By our will, we will make our way.

You’ll take Ares with you? 

You can try and pry my brother away from me, Hephaestus eyes grew dark as a suppressed rage bubbled up. You will only make that mistake once.

Hephaestus braced for Ares to respond to his anger, growling against his new prison. His sharp teeth gleamed in the moonlight. Eris only raised an eyebrow at him, entering his mind without pause. After a mere Mortal second, her mental voice returned. He is useless, She commented. Her idle voice only made Hephaestus’s anger rise. How can a god forge his path when he cannot think? 

“He can still try!” Hephaestus roared. He forced himself to speak aloud for Ares to hear him. Ares’s eyes widened, his mind blotting in confusion. Hephaestus didn’t care. “He deserves the same opportunity we are all granted. He has the right to learn and grow and love! I will never control him, or treat him like a weapon. Because he isn’t a weapon, he’s my brother. And I will love him for eternity, even after our souls get sent to the Void. I don’t expect you to understand, Witch.”

Ares stared, and Hephaestus locked eyes with his brother. A tense Mortal second passed as the war god took in his brother’s declaration. He blinked, and Hephaestus didn’t falter with eye contact. With time, Ares’s mental fog faded, leaving space for a singular phrase he said aloud. “I love you too, Phee.” Hephaestus’s smile deepened. To his surprise, Eris didn’t interrupt Ares’s words, not until his words hung in the air. 

“Witch?” Eris cackled in a reply. Hephaestus didn’t expect her to focus on that. “There are many witches across this realm, but I am not one of them.” Her mental tone sharpened, prickling the frail god’s mind with needles. 

Hephaestus winced, and Eris did not acknowledge his pain. “That is lucky for you and for your brother.”

“Wh-What?” Hephaestus breathed. “Why?”

“Ares, as you know, is a weapon designed to end those who have our power,” Eris explained, her edge never leaving. Ares lost his fight at the words, the truth hitting him like a sword through flesh. Hephaestus could only listen in shame. “He does not think. Only kill. And from the looks of his collection, he’s killed many. When will your pillage end, Andreïphontes?”

The epithet made Ares shiver, recoiling from Eris’s explanation. His mind blended into a sea of incoherent emotions. Hephaestus had little willpower to focus on it. “Not until Zeus dies,” Ares stated, defensive. 

Eris raised an eyebrow. “Will you kill him?”

“Yes.” The conviction made Hephaestus swallow. 

“How fascinating,” Eris sneered. “What an impossible goal. I expected many things, but not this.” Hephaestus regretted her gaze returning to his eyes. “Why not kill him now? Dearest Hephaestus, it is so simple. Take your brother’s mind and destroy your father.”

Hephaestus didn’t dare to think of a reply. “Never!!” He roared, starting to wriggle again. “I’m not a monster. I’d never do that to someone I love!” 

“Zeus made that very same promise all those Divine years ago,” Eris lifted her voice. Her laughter grated against Hephaestus’s ears, passing through him like a ghost. “And yet, you know of the destruction he caused. Look around you!” She thrust Hephaestus forward to face the southern graveyard's devastation. The rows and rows of deserted weapons suddenly looked disgusting to Hephaestus.

 “This is what will become of your Olympian lies. War and destruction! He could have avoided this battle, but he chose to deny who he was and what Khaos made him for.”

Hephaestus didn’t want to ask what Eris meant. He suppressed the urge to twist and scream despite always knowing the truth of his place. Psychics only served to sever and corrupt, too lost in their minds to progress. His grandfather succumbed to that fate, with Athena following in his footsteps. But himself? He always wanted to deny it and believe he had a different destiny. Dedicating himself to his weapons, brother… and mother. It gave him an identity to latch on to. A binding one.

Even in the face of absolute certainty, Hephaestus denied his truth. “Show me whatever you want. I won’t become like him… or you.” He declared, his youthful voice carrying over the southern graveyard like gusting wind. “I am my god own, and so is Ares, and no amount of torture or pain will take that away. We will exist, and we will survive.”

“You are wasting a precious gift.” She snarled, her shrill words echoing in Hephaestus’s mind again. “You could be the last god with such power, and you waste it on normality! Pathetic!” 

The force field dropped, and Ares fell back into a defensive position. His thoughts burst out again, meshing with Eris’s intense pressure in a cruel disharmony. She threw him toward his brother, making them crash into the ground with each other. They stumbled into a messy pile, with Hephaestus curling into Ares’s muscular arms. Ares held him, growling at Eris. 

“I don’t fear you, abomination,” Eris said, raising her clawed hand. Old tombs crumbled as they rose out of the ground. “All you are is a mindless weapon. You can be recreated with the right soul and the right mother. And if your brother will not control you, then you are useless to me.”

She snapped her fingers, and tombs around them rose. They collided together, combining and forming into a sentient golem. Ares’s snarl turned into a grin. Hephaestus steeled himself. “We need to work together,” He mumbled. Ares nodded once.

“Arrogant bastards,” Eris laughed. “I refuse to waste any more of my energy on you. Attack, my minion.” 

Ares had no time to react. The golem smashed into the ground just as Ares leaped back. His black curls draped over his eyes. Hephaestus quickly used telekinesis to return his vision. The golem moved with an intense unpredictability. Without a mind, Hephaestus couldn’t help Ares predict movements. Ares growled in frustration as he moved Hephaestus to ride on his back. “You shield me,” Ares barked. Hephaestus agreed, unfazed by his brother’s tone. In his mind, abstract battle plans scatter loosely. Hephaestus knew better than to get lost in his brother’s mind.

The golem smashed again. This time, Hephaestus raised his hand and projected a shield to block the blow. With the gained seconds, Ares summoned a heavy, two-handed hammer he wielded with ease. He stepped forward and raised the hammer, smashing into the golem’s makeshift jaw. It cracked but did not crumble. How? Hephaestus asked, alarm spiking his heartbeat. 

You only know the surface of what you can do, Eris replied from within his mind. Hephaestus winced with pain. Ares didn’t let up his strength, letting out a fearsome roar. The golem raised its fist, unfazed and readying to strike again. Hephaestus took the regions, shoving his brother away to create distance. With newfound space, Ares ignited the head with bursts of red lightning. Fear and complacency limit you both. The realm can be what you make of it, child. All it takes is a nudge against what you consider limits. Taking a mind is the first step. Altering the very fabric of matter comes later. 

Ares charged forward. Eris smirked, watching the battle below. Hephaestus knew her game meant to test them, but the young smith refused to play the game. We will not be pawns for you to toy with! Hephaestus retorted back, putting power and force into each mental word. Eris didn’t look fazed by the response. The golem’s right fist crashed into Ares’s intense blow. Once again, the golem didn’t break. We will break for no one!

Ares swung and swung, relentless in his flurry of attacks. The steel hammer sparked with friction. Hephaestus could strained to keep up with his brother’s movements.

As the tomb cracked, it reshaped and reformed. Hephaestus only saw minimal damage from Ares’s attack.

Ares growled and pounced back. His hair reached near his ankles and curled around his face. The lightning shone brighter, darkening in color. His thoughts fell into a furious haze as he breathed harder. “It won’t fall.” He spoke with gritted teeth.

“I don’t understand how she’s making it impenetrable,” Hephaestus told him. “Stay defensive. We can-”

It is my turn. Eris gave a single warning.

The golem moved faster than either god had time to prepare for. Its fist reeled back, pounding into Ares’s right cheek. The connection sent both gods flying backward. Hephaestus barely reacted in time to cushion the blow with telekinesis. They crashed into the ground, kicking up stray dirt and rocks. Ares groaned in pain, reaching behind him to feel for Hephaestus. The younger Olympian immediately reached up to grab and squeeze his brother’s hand. “I’m okay,” Hephaestus reassured him after a cough. “I-”

Hephaestus had no time to finish his instruction. More tombs rose from the dry dirt and mashed together to form a golem. And another. Again. And again. They surrounded the two young gods. Hephaestus cursed. Ares growled.

The golems reacted faster than Hephaestus spoke. His eyes widened with fear as one grabbed him off  Ares’s back, several others pinning him down. His hammer smashed to the ground before Hephaestus mentally reached for it. He wriggled and reached for his brother, tears clouding his vision. Hephaestus heard a crack, then a crunch. Ares howled. 

Please… Hephaestus mentally begged their oppressor. From above, Eris only smirked. You don’t have to do this. Just let us go!

You are the one preventing your freedom. Eris retorted. Distantly, her tone reminded him of his mother. For once, he wished to hide in her arms, away from this disaster. At least her coldness meant safety. Protection. Even if she hated him, she kept him from harm. Tears fell from his face and wetted the dirt below. Another crunch, but this time, it sounded so far away. 

Eris gripped his mental presence and squeezed. Hephaestus screamed. You are here. You will stay here, coward. All you’ve done is run from who you are. Not anymore. You know what to do to free your brother. Do it, and this will all fade. 

I’d sooner give myself to the Void!! Hephaestus startled himself with his ferocity. He locked eyes with Eris, fists clenching. An undeniable fury wormed its way around Hephaestus’s mind. More than anything, he longed to have the power to send her to the Void. Tear her limb from limb. Shatter her mind. Bury her far below his forge underneath his home. He reached out, sending his mental force straight toward Eris. He let out a formidable roar, clawing and tearing at her impenetrable wall. I don’t care what you do to me or how long you mentally test me. But what you won’t do is hurt my brother! 

Hephaestus expected to die. She had thousands and thousands of Divine year's worth of experience against him. She had all the skill to block or counter anything he threw at her. She thought and reacted faster. Like Athena, she outclassed him in every form.

Crunch!! All of a sudden, Hephaestus didn’t care about class. 

Eris scowled once she felt the rebellious child in her mind. But she didn’t react. She didn’t have the time.  

A precise beam of light shot through her torso. She screeched and twisted, her body searing into black mist. Hephaestus retreated in shock, surprised her pain didn’t affect him. Around the younger gods, the golems lost sentience and collapsed. Hephaestus gasped as he fell, but managed to tumble himself to the ground. After readjusting his glasses, he quickly checked for anything broken. Then, he whipped his head around for any signs of Eris. 

He looked to the sky, and only spare wisps of smoke remained. 

Hephaestus didn’t waste any time. He moved onto his stomach and pulled forward with his arms to the small mound of broken tombs. The mound rustled before Ares rose, turning around and pouncing on his brother. The smithing god surprised himself when he hugged back with equal strength. “Phee!” Ares wailed, his tears dampening Hephaestus’s tunic. “I’m sorry! I didn’t…I didn’t protect you.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hephaestus mumbled underneath his older brother’s sobs. He knew Ares still heard him. “Of all the things to account for in the southern graveyard… I didn’t expect an ambush, and neither did you. All that matters now is that we’re okay. What’s hurt?”

Ares didn’t answer, preparing to stand. He gritted his teeth and fell back on his knees. His breathing labored as splotches of gold formed on his stained skin. He grunted in frustration, pounding into the dirt. Cracks formed. “I’ll be fine,” Ares’s crying made his voice hoarse. “WE have to go back home. Do you have your notes?” Hephaestus could only nod once, stunned. “Good. Then we can leave now.”

“Ares-”

He’s hurt. A new voice shocked Hephaestus’s mind. 

He immediately became defensive, creating a force field around him and his brother. He darted his head around, refusing to make the same mistake a second time. “Show yourself!” Hephaestus bellowed. “No more games, no more fighting. Or I’ll break you and end you myself.”

To his surprise, the person revealed themselves immediately. She appeared before them, floating right above the ground. A midnight blue drape covered her dark skin, floating like soft breezes. With pulled-back dark curls, her distinct eyes pierced the princes of Olympus. Her left reminded Hephaestus of an ancient indigo, but her right mimicked the noonday sun. Her small hands held a golden scepter, alight with some unknown magic.

Hephaestus heard Ares gasp. The girl tilted her head. “Not a bad fortification,” She noted, oddly calm at the sight of a psychic and a beast. “But I would like it if you said thank you for saving your lives before you threaten me.”

“You…” Hephaestus couldn’t finish his sentence. It was you!

It was me. The girl's mental response jolted the younger god. Ares growled, instinctively pulling Hephaestus away. His eye never left the weapon. You two must be the Cursed Princes. Good. I’ve wanted to ask you something.

I go first. Who are you? And speak aloud. Ares is a part of this conversation.

Hephaestus held his breath. To his surprise, the girl complied. “I am Hecate of the Many Crossroads.” She said aloud. Ares and Hephaestus looked at each other. Neither god recognized her. “I have longed to meet you both. There are many rumors about the Queen’s baneful children.” Hephaestus opened his mouth to rebuttal when Ares whimpered, but Hecate raised a hand. “I didn’t say it. The rumors did.”

“What do you want?” Hephaestus ordered, his patience growing thin. Meeting a second psychic in a single Mortal night baffled him beyond reason. Especially one so young. His weariness prevented him from spilling out a million questions. “How do you… Why didn’t I know you existed?”

“Simple. I did not want anyone to find me. Even now… but I had no choice. Neither of you could face Eris in your state. So I used this.” With telekinesis, she raised the golden weapon toward the young boys. They both stared at it with wide eyes. A Sacred Weapon! Hephaestus exclaimed. He had never seen one up close. Witnessing the magnificent weaponry almost made up for the terror Hephaestus experienced. Hephaestus reached out to touch it, but Hecate snatched it away. “No. This isn’t for your filthy Olympian hands.”

“What?” Hephaestus’s eye twitched. Then, her words fell into place. “You… You’re a Titaness.”

“I am. And this is mine.” Her grip on her weapon tightened. “I used it tonight because I want you both to live. Maybe someday you’ll kill Zeus for me.”

Hephaestus blinked. He didn’t want to process what she just said, let alone consider the idea. Ares had other plans. “We will, Titan Girl,” He told her, his tone too firm for Hephaestus’s liking. 

She narrowed his eyes at him but didn’t retreat. She floated closer, shoving the head of the beautiful scepter into Ares’s side. He winced before Hephaestus felt his body relax. He rumbled in delight after she pulled the weapon away. “I healed him. There were a lot of broken ribs. Next time, it’s best to run.”

“Thank you,” Ares rumbled, stretching. He flashed his serrated smile. Again, Hecate didn’t flinch but smiled back. “You’re nice.”

“I am, aren’t I?” Hecate replied. “Go. There is nothing more for you here.” Ares obliged without asking Hephaestus first, standing with ease now. “Oh, before you go. I still haven’t asked my question.”

“And that is?”

Hecate smiled up at them. Hephaestus forced himself to keep eye contact. Even with her eerie gaze unsettling him. She picked up on his mental state and tittered. “What is it like constantly listening to him? All that misery and confusion can’t be good for you."

A bolt of anger flashed within Hephaestus. Hecate heard it, but her smile didn’t falter. And yet… he couldn’t deny the truth, especially after tonight. Ares’s mental state flickered between delirium and acute awareness. The whiplash gave Hephaestus a headache. That didn’t loosen his grip on Ares’s tunic.

His answer mattered, so he took his time since he knew Ares listened. “He’s all I know,” Hephaestus answered honestly, sounding more tired than he liked. “I wouldn’t change his mind… it makes him who he is. Even with the headaches, and the pain, and the death. He’s my brother, and I’ll protect his mind from anyone… even myself.”

Hecate hummed. She almost opened her mouth to reply, but a distant voice interrupted her. “Ares! Hephaestus!” 

A woman’s fast footsteps padded into the dirt. Hephaestus’s eyes widened. Blond curls tumbled down to worn knees. A spear in a white-knuckled hand. Stark, dominating violet eyes. “Mama!” Ares exclaimed, waving at the woman. Hephaestus didn’t have to touch her mind to taste her fury. 

“What in Gaia’s name are you two doing here?” She demanded, falling into a practiced stance Hephaestus had only seen with Ares. “Your father gave you direct orders to leave the southern graveyard be. Not only do you disobey him, but you release your brother and incapacitate guards! I ought to lock you in your forge for the next Mortal month for this.”

He couldn’t even form a sentence, too flustered and embarrassed. Unfortunately, Ares only fed off her emotions and rumbled like a sleeping giant. “Mama, we made a friend!”  Ares explained, shifting a silent Hephaestus to one arm so he could gesture at Hecate. She stood between the Olympian family without a word. She kept her mind expertly protected, displaying great control. “Titan girl, that’s our Mama.”

Hera gasped. “A Titaness…” She whispered, finally acknowledging Hecate. Hephaestus noticed a hint of sorrow in her eyes but refused to mention it.

Still holding the scepter, Hecate backed away and sent a deadly glare toward the queen. “You won’t have me,” She glowered.  

“I don’t want you,” Hera told the girl. “Leave this place, and leave my sons. You have no business with them.”

Like lightning, Hephaestus flashed into her mind. Wait! We won’t hurt you. I promise… There’s so much more to know about you and Eris! What if she comes back?

Hecate didn’t look away from the queen when she responded. I don’t know if I trust you. But I know that I don’t trust her. I never will… but this isn’t the last you’ll hear of me, Hephaestus. It’s… She finally ripped her mismatched eyes away from Hera to look at Hephaestus. He gasped at her sorrowful and intense gaze. Even Ares whimpered. It’s nice to find someone else like me. A child. I’m seven Divine years old, too.

Consider me a friend, then. You know where to find me.

A friend. How silly. You are my first one. Hephaestus held in a relieved breath when he saw a ghost of a smile. When you come back, I’ll introduce you to my mother. And we can plot your father’s downfall… Until then, Hephaestus.

Hephaestus reached a hand down to her. Hecate disappeared in a blink, taking her Sacred Weapon with her. He knew his longing didn’t make sense, but the young Olympian still missed her company. Ares pulled him in for another hug, and Hephaestus heard muddled sadness from his mind. 

“Who was that?” Hera asked, bringing the attention back to her. Her hair gave her a frayed look, almost like a beast.

Almost like Ares.

“She saved us, Mama!” Ares replied again. He walked to their mother, handing Hephaestus off when Hera opened her arms. Hephaestus almost refused, but a relentless urge compelled him toward her chilling hold. She held him with a surprising tightness that he appreciated. 

He didn’t expect any extra affection. Or affection at all. Not after how he made quite the mess tonight. Hephaestus began to play a memorized lecture she often gave him when he made messes.

When Hera held his head, he froze. 

The rest of the walk blurred for Hephaestus. Ares rambled about Eris and how he bravely saved his little brother before Hecate arrived. Hera didn’t reply. She didn’t remove her hand. Hephaestus couldn’t stop his silent tears if he tried. 

Arriving home, Hera didn’t make Ares or Hephaestus return to their rooms. Hephaestus felt too tired to focus, but he knew where they headed. He heard ruffling bedsheets and felt crispy night air tingle his neck. Hera rested him down on her master bed, right next to Ares. Hephaestus didn’t move, training his eyes on the blurry ceiling. Ares’s snores soon filled the bedroom. Hephaestus kept his eyes open, even when his mother rested between her sons. She whispered something to him. Something about dealing with the guards in the Mortal morning after rest. Nothing about the mysterious goddesses that shared his cursed power.

She came for us. Hephaestus’s thoughts finally formed into words. He didn’t want to think about Eris or even Hecate. One fact of the night prevailed over all. Not knowing the danger… she came to save us. Oh, Mother… why must we be near the brink of death for you to care?

Hephaestus had no answer. Nor did he have any sleep.