Chapter 5: The Ringing Echoes of Forever

“Best of all riches is to find a noble spouse.”Euripides, Andromeda, Fragment 137, (412 BCE)

With the announcement made, Zeus knew it would be best to actually start getting the kingdom ready for his marriage. Ouranos and Gaia’s wedding was witnessed by the Primordials, including the consummation of their marriage. Gaia had crowned Cronos in front of the Titan siblings.

Zeus knew that the wedding would need to be a public spectacle. The wedding night would be a more private affair, but the marriage’s start would need to be a grand event for all.

As such, while the halls of Olympus buzzed with anticipation, Zeus summoned Hermes. The brash young son of Zeus had grown to an adolescence in the last fifty years. The child had grown full of himself after he was the one to rescue Zeus from Typhon.

Hermes sprinted through the corridors until he reached the king in his throne room. His footsteps only made contact with the marble floors only long enough to propel the flighty god forward and no more. The son of Zeus was lighter than a feather, and quicker than any feather in the breeze.

“Ah, son!” Zeus said as a wise leader. “It is good for you to answer my summons promptly.”

Hermes had burst through the doors with an exuberant flourish. “Hey boss, found you, good!” he exclaimed. A mischievous grin played on his lips in his audience with the king of the gods. “Pleasure! You and Hera are the talk of Olympus!”

Zeus sat upon his throne and he resisted rubbing his own face in irritation at the flippant attitude of his son. The younger part of Zeus wanted to find the behavior amusing but as king, he needed to reflect a certain level of authority when dealing with the quick-footed god.

“Hermes, at your service,” the messenger continued before saluting and giving a bow.

Zeus’ expression softened slightly as he recognized that Hermes was trying to restrain his natural enthusiasm with respect.

“Ah, Hermes, always the eager one,” he mused, his deep voice resonating through the chamber. “I have called you here to personally deliver the invitations to Hera and my wedding. I trust you understand the importance of your task?”

Hermes nodded vigorously, his eyes alight with determination. “Oh! Mighty keen of you to leave it to me, boss,” he quipped, a playful glint in his eye. “And we both know you picked the best guy for the job.”

Zeus chuckled indulgently at Hermes’s jest, though his gaze grew stern as he addressed the messenger. “Remember, Hermes, I expect you to have all of the gods of note here. Obviously, I will understand if Hades and his ilk are unable to make it. Oh and Poseidon made relations with Oceanus touchy, so I will allow you an exception there, but I do expect you to make use of your swift diligence.” Before Hermes fled the room in his excited way, Zeus cautioned his son slowly with the weight of his authority. “Understand that there will be a reward for your success, but punishment should you fail to bring everyone here. I will not be made to look like a fool in front of the other gods.”

Hermes saluted again as a grin spread across his face. “Well now, that’s awfully kind there, Pops! No need to thank me, though. I have all the honor I need!” he replied with playful banter.

With a final nod from Zeus, Hermes dashed out of the throne room. His sandals barely touched the ground as he set off on his mission.

Zeus shook his head. He almost wished dealing with everyone was so easy. He gave Hermes a task and the boy went off and obeyed. Sure, he was full of himself after helping Zeus gain his freedom, but ... that was to be expected. There was no war to give Hermes glory, but there were great deeds to be done. He would need to bring Hermes into line, so he did not get too much of an ego, but should the child succeed at his simple task, that would be one less thing Zeus needed to worry about.

The dimly lit workshop had been the home to Prometheus and Epimetheus since the end of the Great War. Of course, when Cronos reigned, the twins had created life on the mortal plane. The only difference was Prometheus believed that humanity would be their greatest creation.

As Epimetheus stood before the bronze model of Pandora, he was seeing what his brother had in mind. His gaze was fixed upon her lifelike form. While he looked upon the meticulously crafted statue, the lesser known son of Iapetus could not help but admire the testament to their labor. Every curve and contour of her figure had been rendered with precision, and more so, he could not help but admire every part of her even if she was not alive. Her frozen features were the epitome of serene beauty to the second-generation Titan.

Pandora remained lifeless, not needing the breath of vitality to entrance the Titan. Epimetheus’s captivation was complete in her presence. He wondered how much longer he and his brother would need to wait to bring humanity into existence.

He traced the lines of her form with trembling fingers, wondering what a mortal would look like, feel like, be like. Her delicate features, the curve of her lips, the gentle arch of her brow would mean so much more when she finally walked among the divine.

She was more than the care and artistry that had gone into her creation.

As he stood before her, lost in contemplation, Epimetheus felt a swell of finality to all of the work, all of the bloodshed of the war. The divine was on the precipice of one great age heading into another. He could feel it even if the others did not.

Soon, someday soon she and the rest of this mortal humanity would exist, and twin sons of Iapetus would need to create no more.

That was the day he could be free to be however he wanted ... with whomever he wanted.

There was a place where the mortal realm and the realm of the dead blurred. It had once been host to the first battle between Hades and his dead Primordial grandfather, Ouranos.

The aforementioned Hades in front of the ever-growing form of Cerberus. The three-headed hound watched its master with keen eyes. Hades was discovery that puppies, no matter how young or old, are entirely temperamental.

“Come now, beast! Eat your meal.”

Cerberus whimpered, lowering his three heads. Hades felt like he might need to address each one individually to get them all to obey.

He pulled out meat from a few deers that he had killed. He was by no means efficient with his obtaining of the food, but Hades knew Cerberus craved food that was once living, so the eldest son of Cronos was willing to oblige the anima.

With a slight struggle, Cerberus started to eat the slabs of meat from Hades’ hand.

“Good boy,” Hades said, petting the head on his right. He turned his head when a loud shaking noise alerted him to the presence of a gigantic being. “Yes?”

One of the free Hecatoncheires, Gyges, was approaching with something in the grasp of his multitude of arms.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

He bore with him a massive container that was making a clanking sound.

“I bring gifts from the fires of Thessaly,” the enormous child of Gaia and Ouranos uttered.

“What sort of gift?” Hades asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Gifts, King of the Underworld,” Gyges remarked. “The destruction created by the conflict between the Titans and the gods left a lingering, malevolent energy. My siblings and Cyclopes decided to harness that power to make a reflection of a few of the Immortal Arms that we had crafted for you and your siblings.”

Setting the container down, he opened it to reveal the weapons of great power within. A shield smooth and black with a liquid energy radiating from it jostled against its chains. A two pronged bident of smooth silver wrestled with its restraints. Lastly, a single handed sword of black and red fighting as well.

“The Shield, the Dark Spear, and the Stygian Sword,” Gyges explained. “These are the purest essence of a sword, spear and shield. They shall have aspects that allow them to alter their form. If another were to make a sword, shield, or spear that was superior to these weapons, the weapon would be able to transform itself into them.”

As he presented their offerings to Hades, Gyges shut the container.

“These are no mere weapons,” the crafter went on. “They are wholly unique. They can be symbols of your dominion.”

“They will be a reminder of the past conflict,” Hades remarked, revealing his concern over the arsenal.

“True, but they will be peerless, and if nothing else, a treasure that displays the might of the Underworld when it is compared to Olympus.”

Hades prickled at the comment. His realm’s prestige when compared to Olympus, as well as his position when compared to Zeus, was becoming a weakness that others could exploit. While he nodded his thanks and accepted the gifts, Hades knew he would need to correct such an oversight. This time, he was being presented with powerful tools, but in the future, there was no guarantee that his enemies would not use such a weakness to their advantage.

The might of the Infernal Arms might prove useful one day, but for now, they were decoration. Hades would need to look into them.

Maybe he would present these weapons to an heir one day. After all, Hades had his Hooks and Bident. He needed no weaponry.

“Thank you, Gyges. Give my gratitude to your counterparts,” Hades said magnanimously. “I am not such a fool not to recognize what a boon you have given my realm.”

The Hecatoncheires inclined his many heads to the worthy King of the Underworld before departing. When the child of Gaia and Ouranos was gone, Hades looked to his pet.

“It would seem we will need a place to store these, Cerberus. Hopefully, you can be of help here.

The sky above was a blend of twilight from the setting sun and deep darkness of Nyx’s night sky. She often found herself on the remnants of the battlefield where Hades first fought Ouranos and lost. The precipice where the land of the living met the Underworld was an interesting place to her. There were pillars and a door that linked the realms.

She often wondered who made this particular part of the world. Was it Chaos? Tartarus? Erebus? It certainly was not her. Letting out a nostalgic sigh, he looked on at the world. So much had changed in the realm given to her at the birth of all things.

Nyx blinked, only just realizing that out of all of the true Primordials, only she and Gaia were left. Nyx’s effect on the living world was that half of a day’s span was covered by her night’s sky. Gaia’s presence was felt in every stone and tree.

What of Erebus, Tartarus, Eros? Nyx thought nothing of Ouranos or Pontus. Both were born of Gaia, in truth, and while they were called Primordials, Nyx did not recognize them as such.

In her ethereal beauty and powerful countenance, Nyx felt something was amiss. Something was changing once more. She was left to wonder what could it be when a gust of wind snapped her out of her own thoughts.

A teenage god in bronze sandals alighted lightly near Nyx. He landed in a bent motion before he straightened up before her. She had thought, for the smallest of moments, that he was a serious deity, but the mischievous grin spreading across his youthful face told her that he was more of a child than an adult.

If she had doubted her own summation, his words confirmed everything she needed to know.

“Hey there, missus of the Underworld!” Hermes declared in his light and irreverent way of speech. “Found you, good!” His grin morphed into a cheery smile. “Name’s Hermes! I’m at your service. Pleasure!”

Without asking Mother Night’s permission, Hermes reached out and shook her hand up and down three times quickly before withdrawing his hand and continuing his strange speech. “You and your king are the talk of Olympus, you know?”

Nyx shifted her body to regard the godling more critically. Ancient wisdom of countless nights could never have prepared her for the flippant messenger son of Zeus. Her readiness to deal with this child was immaterial.

She saw a child before her and an emissary of Olympus. It was likely Zeus had sent the boy. If Metis had survived the monster called Typhon, she might have given whatever news or message that this immature child had for her.

With respect for the fallen Metis in mind, Nyx regarded the son of Zeus with a calm, soothing, maternal demeanor. Though, she was never able to remove the undercurrent of force that came with being a Primordial from her gaze.

“Greetings, young man,” she said with the whisper of a night’s breeze. “What brings you to this forsaken place between realms?”

Hermes shrugged, still wearing his carefree grin. “Well, got a little message for you and Lord Hades. Big news—Zeus and Hera are tying the knot! And, of course, you’re both invited. Should be quite the party!”

Tying the knot? Nyx wondered. Such a phrase was not common to the lands. She was not sure what in the name of Chaos the boy-god was saying.

Nyx’s expression remained serene despite her confusion. He handed her a scroll that more eloquently explained the situation that Zeus and Hera were getting married. The prospect of that particular union would complicate the already risen tensions between the Underworld and Olympus. To tell Hades when his feelings for the Olympian Princess were mixed at worst or love at best would prove to be difficult...