Epilogue

“You can run the mile.”Hall of Fame, The Script (2012)

Throne room of Olympus was starting to become host to many pivotal moments for the history of the Grecian gods. Zeus wondered how many great decisions had been mad in the throne room.

It had been made by and for his grandfather, Ouranos. If Zeus’ lessons were correct, the Titans had once kneeled before Ouranos in Zeus’s throne room; they had kneeled before his father, Cronos, when it was his time to be king.

It was Zeus’ time to reign. As such, the one who would be kneeling before him was on his way.

Tension mixed with impatience into a swirling concoction that filled the air of the room meant for Zeus’ greatness ... Golden light streamed through the high windows onto every facet of the room from Zeus himself, to the pillars, to the marble floor. From the light to the color of his hanging tapestry curtains, everything existed to accentuate the splendor of the place.

Zeus sat upon his throne as he waited for Hermes. Only two days after his wedding night with Hera, he knew it was best to deal with his wayward son.

The doors creaked open, and Hermes strolled in, his movements casual and unhurried.

He wore his usual attire of a white toga with a red sash and an orangish gold wreath on his head while his bronze sandals clinked softly on the ground from his superior grace.

“Pops?” Hermes said in the form of a question. While his tone was usually light and bordered on mocking, today he struggled to find his usual ease. That was the final confirmation for the King of Olympus. “You called?”

Zeus leaned forward in his chair. His eyes narrowed when his son found himself standing near the center of the room. “Ah, Hermes,” Zeus began as if he had not been expecting him. His voice was deceptively calm for what he suspected. “There is a matter I wish to discuss with you.”

“Shoot,” Hermes said. The effort he forced out the single syllable might not have been noticeable to others but to Zeus it was as loud and bright as a thunderbolt.

“At my wedding,” Zeus started, ensuring his son understood the inflection in his voice. “There were many guest. You know I do not blame you for the foreigners, but there was one guest that seemed ... different.”

Hermes’ right foot started to shake subtly

“I will be blunt, young man. Was Chelone there?”

Hermes’ smile widened as he shrugged, stepping over to lean against one of the columns. “Of course she was, Pops. Why would she not?”

Zeus’ grip tightened on the arms of his throne, turning his knuckles white. A spark of lightning crackled around his fingertips. His voice lost all of its cordial kindness for his son. A growing edge started to infect his words. “Do not play games with me, Hermes!”

Hermes flinched back, realizing some of the peril that he was in. “Come on, Father!” Hermes cried with both hands out, imploring. “What does it really matter? Everything else went off without a hitch. Everyone was happy! No one missed one river nymph!”

Zeus rose from his throne, the golden light glinting off his crown, and the red of rage was spreading over his face. His full height made the room feel smaller.

“Chelone is a descendant of Oceanus, idiot boy!” Zeus exclaimed. “If everyone had been there, Oceanus and Tethys would have missed the celebration! And they ... would ... have ... come back to Olympus ... on... their ... own!”

He slammed his foot onto the ground, and lightning shot out from his sandal to charge through the edges of the room.

“That was why her presence was required, you stupid child! Your flippancy, your insolence—” His voice thundered, reverberating off the marble walls.

Hermes’ smile vanished from sight. In its place was the trembling of a child before his father. “I couldn’t get her—”

Zeus’ eyes blazed with fury from his son’s excuse. “Enough!” he roared. The thunderous command shook the room and created a tremor to run through the walls. He took a step forward toward Hermes threateningly. “You’ve overstepped! This isn’t about your usual fun! Where was your respect for your family, for your king.”

Hermes straightened, his eyes flinching back to escape. There was nowhere to go with the cage of lightning holding them both in.

For the smallest moment between the two of them, the room was silent with the faint realization of what was about to happen.

Zeus stood over his son, a towering figure of divine wrath. Though a young god in his adulthood, Hermes was not ready to battle the being who had cast the Titans down to Tartarus.

The lightning crackled more intensely around the king’s form, casting sharp, erratic shadows across his face. He loomed over Hermes. The fleet-footed god tried to move, but Zeus lifted a finger and Hermes’ bronze sandals seemed glued to the ground.

Nonetheless, Hermes tried to move to no avail.

Zeus’ restrained fury was etched into his eyes as he looked at his son’s lean, strong legs.

“You’re so proud of your speed, aren’t you, son?”

The look in Zeus’ eyes grew malicious as he came up with the retribution for Hermes’ disobedience. A single stomp forward caused Hermes to howl in rage and pain. Another accompanied the first, and any on Olympus could hear the cries of the messenger god who had saved his father only decades before.

In the Underworld, Hades stood, staring at his cavernous halls. The air was heavy and cold compared to the free warmth of his brother’s heavenly mountain. Spectral flames cast light as opposed to Helios’ sun. He would need to give his realm something better.

His robes of crimson and obsidian made him appear like a specter that haunts the shadows of one’s forgotten dreams.

Suddenly, after seeing Hera marry Zeus, everything of his realm was becoming a wound, demonstrating his exile from the warmth and light of Olympus ... from her. Her words had been more harmful than any wound inflicted upon him, more lasting than any of his golden-ichor scars.

He stared at the towering stone walls that he had erected, tracing his fingers over the cold surface. His mind jumped back to the wedding. He should have done more, he should have fought harder.

With a growl of frustration, Hades slammed his fist into the wall. The stone cracked under his godly strength. It surrendered to his might and splintered into hundreds of pieces with a deafening sound that echoed through all of the Underworld. Fragments and dust of rock fell to the ground by his feet.

He leaned against the broken wall. Hades pressed his forehead against the cold stone, closing his eyes. The ache was becoming too much.

What could he have done though? Zeus was King of Olympus. Zeus had a right to a wife, and Hades would not trick, coerce, or even kidnap Hera to make him his wife.

With that acceptance of his own morals, Hades understood, regardless of what cruel words Hera had said, she was beyond his reach. Zeus would make certain that the vows they had exchanged would bound Hera to him forever. The thought of her lying with Zeus flashed in his mind, causing him to flinch and struggle with a torment worse than any punishment he could have devised for the souls in his realm.

Agony had always been his companion. Why should it have been different as King of the Underworld? This was just another wound that would never heal.

Hades let out a slow, shuddering breath before straightening up. That was the truth of it, he knew. Regardless of Hera’s affection or marital status, he was King of the Underworld. He needed to be the equal to his brothers.

Poseidon was doing nothing to extend his power in the seas. He was just in love with the fun of it all. Zeus would always be forward thinking with the assistance of Prometheus, Gaia, and even Rhea.

That led him back to the thoughts of the wedding. More about the guests, not the marital parties.

Hades’s thoughts were heavy and muddled from Hera still, but he was focusing ... Who were those other guests?.

Zeus was expanding his influence, forging alliances with those guests. They must have been foreign gods even if Hades did not know their names or histories. The idea of powerful beings from distant lands being tied up with his brother did not fill Hades with happiness. Strange and mighty powers from afar would only bolster Zeus’ confidence in thinking he could maintain his supremacy.

The thought sickened Hades. Zeus was already King of Olympus. Reaching beyond the borders of their lands meant he would be unstoppable and unable to be toppled.

Hades was falling behind, regardless of how much he improved the Underworld. The gap between him and his brothers was becoming a widening gulf that would become a chasm that would consume him.