Chapter 17- The Celebration

The throne room hummed with life, the energy of a hard-won victory radiating through the marble walls. Laughter mingled with the sweet strains of satyr music, while the aroma of ambrosia and nectar filled the air. I sat on my throne, its black marble surface streaked with veins of shimmering gold, a reflection of my domain's dark beauty.

To my right sat Poseidon, his laughter booming as he joked with Brontes, the Cyclops tossing back goblets of nectar like water. Zeus, as always, had a perpetual smirk plastered on his face, though his eyes flicked to me now and then, likely brooding over something or other. On my left were my sisters—Hera, regal and watchful; Demeter, who chatted animatedly with Gaea and Rhea; and Hestia, whose torch cast a soft, warm glow over the festivities.

I sipped from my chalice of nectar, content to observe the revelry rather than immerse myself in it. Let them have their celebration. I had little need for such things, though I did not begrudge them the joy. My gaze wandered the room, catching snippets of conversations and laughter, until it landed on something—or rather, someone—in the far corner.

She stood apart, cloaked in shadow as though it were a part of her. A tattered black dress hung loosely on her slender frame, and a shawl obscured most of her face, though her piercing violet eyes were impossible to miss. A serpent coiled lazily around her shoulders, its forked tongue flickering near her ear as though whispering secrets only she could hear.

The whispers began before I could even rise.

"Why is she here?"

"She doesn't belong. Who would invite her?"

"Good riddance. Maybe the King will throw her out."

The murmurs grated against my ears like nails on stone. Slowly, I stood, setting my chalice aside. The room quieted as I made my way through the crowd, my presence parting them like the tide.

When I stopped in front of her, she froze, her violet eyes wide with alarm. She quickly bowed, keeping her head low as if bracing for some cruel reprimand.

"Why," I said, my voice softer than usual but firm enough to command attention, "is a beautiful woman like yourself standing alone in the corner, avoiding the festivities?"

Her hands fidgeted with her shawl as she whispered, "I… I didn't want to impose, my lord."

I chuckled, the sound rich and low. "Impose? Nonsense. You grace this hall with your presence." I reached out, gently taking her hand and pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. Her skin was cool, but not unpleasantly so. "I am Hades, King of the Gods. And you are?"

"Hecate, my lord," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hecate," I repeated, letting the name roll off my tongue. "A fitting name for someone so mysterious."

She blushed faintly and averted her gaze.

I straightened, smiling faintly. "You intrigue me, Hecate. I would very much like to speak with you further. Visit me in my castle in the Underworld when this celebration is over." I offered her a slight wink before turning and striding back toward the center of the hall.

The whispers behind me changed, a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Let them talk. I had more pressing matters to tend to.

I found Hera and Demeter near the central table, exchanging pleasantries with Prometheus and Metis. Hera arched a brow at me as I approached. "Something on your mind, brother?"

"Not particularly," I said, taking a sip from a goblet handed to me by a passing nymph. "Just ensuring everyone is enjoying themselves."

Hera gave a faint smile. "So far, so good. Though I'd wager Zeus will find some way to sour the mood before the night is through."

Demeter chuckled. "That would require him to stop smirking long enough to speak."

I couldn't help but smirk myself. But then I noticed the absence of one sister. "Where is Hestia?"

"She stepped outside for some air," Demeter said, her expression turning faintly concerned.

Before I could respond, a scream pierced the night.

The sound led me to the courtyard, where a chilling sight greeted me. Hestia was pinned to the ground by a drunken satyr, his hands gripping her wrists as she struggled beneath him. His slurred laughter died the moment he saw me.

"Get away from her," I said, my voice low and cold.

The satyr barely had time to react before I closed the distance, my hand snapping around his throat. With a single motion, I lifted him off his feet and hurled him across the courtyard. He crashed into a column, the stone cracking beneath the impact.

"Hera!" I barked, not taking my eyes off the satyr. "Take Hestia somewhere safe."

Hera appeared at once, helping a shaken Hestia to her feet and guiding her back toward the hall.

I turned my attention back to the satyr, who was groaning and attempting to rise. My black blade materialized in my hand, its edge gleaming with an ominous glow.

"You dared to lay a hand on my sister," I said, my voice eerily calm. "That is a mistake you will not live to regret."

The satyr raised his hands, his eyes wide with fear. "M-my lord, please—"

I silenced him with a single, fluid motion, my blade slicing cleanly through his neck. His head hit the ground with a dull thud, followed shortly by his lifeless body.

The courtyard was silent save for the soft rustling of the wind. I turned to the gathered onlookers, my gaze sweeping over them like a storm.

"Let this be a warning," I said, my voice carrying across the courtyard. "If anyone dares harm my sisters—or any member of my family—they will face a punishment far worse than death."

I pointed to a group of nymphs lingering nearby. "Clean this mess. And when this creature is reborn, I want whatever form it takes—plant or otherwise—destroyed. Do I make myself clear?"

The nymphs nodded hastily and scrambled to obey.

I sheathed my blade, my anger still simmering beneath the surface. As I turned back toward the throne room, I paused at the entrance, my voice echoing behind me.

"The celebration is over. Clean up and go home."

Without waiting for a response, I stepped into the shadows, leaving the revelers to process what had transpired.

<------- >

The steady scratching of my fountain pen against parchment filled the quiet of my office. It was a soothing sound, one I'd come to appreciate in the calm moments when the weight of my domains wasn't pressing on my shoulders. The Underworld was vast and intricate, and even as its ruler, there were always matters to tend to—laws to refine, judgments to review, and plans to draft.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

"Enter," I said, setting the pen aside.

Cain stepped in, looking a bit hesitate. "My Lord, Lady Hecate has arrived."

I leaned back in my chair, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Show her in."

Cain bowed and stepped aside, allowing her to enter. Hecate walked in with careful, measured steps, her black dress flowing around her like shadows. She looked unsure, her violet eyes darting around the room before finally settling on me.

"Lady Hecate," I greeted warmly, standing to offer her my attention. "Welcome to my domain."

Before I could say more, she surprised me by hesitating for only a moment before reaching for the ties of her dress and let it drop revealing herself to me.

My eyes widened as she stood infront of me nude. "What are you doing?" I asked, stepping forward.

She froze, her hands trembling as they clutched the fabric. "I—I thought you…" Her voice faltered, and she averted her gaze. "I thought you summoned me here to… have your way with me."

I sighed, raising a hand and had her clothes reappear on her body"No," I said firmly but gently, "that was not my intent."

Her eyes darted up to meet mine, confusion evident in her expression.

"I asked you here," I continued, "to offer you a position. Not for anything so vulgar, I am not my brother."

"A position?" she echoed, blinking in surprise.

"Yes," I said, gesturing for her to sit, though she remained standing. "I want you to serve as my Advisor. The Underworld is vast and complex, and while I can manage its intricacies, I would prefer to have someone I trust to oversee its workings in my absence—when I'm called to Olympus or other matters that demand my attention."

She blinked again, her violet eyes wide. "Advisor?"

I nodded. "You would be responsible for managing certain aspects of the Underworld. Overseeing its denizens, ensuring laws are upheld, and assisting in the integration of those who come to live here."

Her brows furrowed in thought, and after a moment, she straightened her shoulders. "If you trust me with such a role… I accept."

"Good," I said with a faint smile. "It's perfect timing, then."

As if on cue, another knock sounded at the door.

Cain stepped in once more. "My Lord, the leaders of the demon tribe have arrived and seek an audience."

"Send them to the throne room," I instructed.

Cain bowed and left, and I turned to Hecate. "You may as well see this firsthand."

Before she could respond, I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close enough for a momentary spark of surprise to flicker in her eyes. With a thought, I teleported us to the throne room.

The demons filed in, their footsteps echoing across the obsidian floor. There were fewer of them than I'd anticipated—a mere handful compared to what I'd been told of their numbers in Tartarus. Their leader, a tall figure with crimson skin and curling black horns, stepped forward and bowed deeply.

"My Lord," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "I am Azarok, leader of what remains of the demon tribe."

"What remains?" I asked, my tone carefully neutral as I studied the group.

Azarok nodded solemnly. "Tartarus was… unkind to us. Many perished, and the rest barely survived. When we saw the splendor of your Underworld, we dared to dream of a better existence."

I raised a hand, silencing him. "Dreams are one thing, Azarok. Reality is another. If you and your people wish to live here, you will earn your place."

He straightened slightly, meeting my gaze with a mix of respect and determination. "What would you have us do, my Lord?"

"Serve me faithfully," I said, my voice carrying the weight of command. "Prove your loyalty, and I will grant you a village within my domain, with access to all the resources the Underworld offers."

Azarok's eyes gleamed with hope, and he dropped to one knee, bowing his head. "We will serve you, my Lord, with unwavering loyalty. You have our word."

I inclined my head. "Good. From this day forward, you will answer to Lady Hecate. She will oversee your integration into the Underworld and report your progress to me."

Hecate's eyes widened as I gestured toward her. "Hecate," I said, "meet your first task as Advisor."

The demons turned their attention to her, bowing deeply. "We are at your service, Lady Hecate," Azarok said.

She stammered slightly, clearly overwhelmed. "I—I'll do my best," she managed, glancing at me nervously once the demons were dismissed.

"You'll do more than your best," I said, summoning a soft golden light between us. "You'll know exactly what's needed."

Before she could question me, I placed my hand lightly on her forehead. Her eyes widened as information flowed into her mind—the laws of the Underworld, its history, the intricacies of its governance, and my plans for its future.

She staggered slightly, her hand gripping the edge of my throne for support. "How… how did you do that?" she whispered.

"One of the many benefits of my station," I said with a faint smirk.

She straightened, her expression a mix of awe and determination. "Thank you… my Lord."

"You'll do fine," I said, rising from my throne.