Chapter Text
Hermes watches the little mortal family, a husband and wife walking and laughing as their small son runs and plays in front of them. He cannot be more than 7 summers old, carefree and secure in safety as his parents watch on, no other thoughts than fun in his his head and actions. He runs to his parents as they call out when he strays too far, and his father scoops him up in his arms, laughing at something his son says. They continue on down the dirt road towards the village in the valley.
He can’t help but feel envy and jealousy, what he wouldn’t do to have a little one of his own! Kronos’ curse on the gods has taken a heavy toll. Perhaps Hermes shouldn’t feel as deeply as he does, for he did have a son while his siblings had no children of their own. Not for lack of trying.
His son Pan was a happy accident, born from his desperation of wanting a child, and somehow surviving by taking the wild domain as his own. He was born with the legs of a goat, and top half of a human. And oh! How his son as grown to the god he is today. His siblings have had no such luck circumventing the curse. The only other gods who have had success are Zeus and Hera, given the Olympians that survive today, however it was not easy, and much suffering brought them forth into the world. Hermes’ own birth traumatized his mother, leaving her in a catatonic state. It’s a miracle he was born with domains pretty much at the ready for him to grasp. If not, he would not be here.
After the family reaches the village, Hermes flies off, shaking those depressing thoughts from his head. As he passes over a thick grove of trees, he feels a distinct pull in his gut. It gets progressively worse as he flies farther from the grove. Unable to ignore it, he stops and stares at where the pull is coming from. Curiosity peaked, he flies down into the trees, finding a swirling vortex pulling at him.
‘What is this?’ Hermes thinks. Unable to stop himself, he approaches the vortex. As he reaches his hand towards it, his surroundings warp. Shaking off his disorientation, he finds himself in a place he has never seen before. 'This does not look or feel like my home.' His attention is pulled towards the house he was deposited in front of. He observes the building. The walkway leading toward the entrance is lined with animalesque objects, completely worn down; many broken. There is a wooden walkway attached to the front, with metallic items hanging from the wooden frame, chiming in the breeze. It has two stories, and is white. The door is eye catching, painted a unique shade of blue and adorned with lettering. The first portion, he cannot recognize as letters he has ever seen before, but the familiar ones under it he can. "Castellan, what an interesting word," Hermes comments.
Suddenly, he feels that pull again, pulling him towards the house. Looking around, that vortex has disappeared, so he does the only thing he can do with this feeling in his gut. Hermes walks towards the house, interested in what could have possibly pulled a god from his home to a place seemingly so out of this world.
‘Well if I am here, I might as well investigate.’ With that thought in his head, he enters the building, ensuring no mortals will see him.