Bliss

Chapter 2

Eros had a habit of sneaking into residences, either simply manifesting or finding his way through a window. It was part of his job to be stealthily, so when he arrived at his father's cloud palace and walked up to the front door, it felt formal and reverent. He was being respectful in a way that was unusual for him.

The palace itself couldn't be more different from his own, which was light and bright and filled with pleasures for the mind, body, and spirit. His palace was curved and spiraled, while his father's was sharp and spiked, with high walls and ramparts and gargoyles that seemed to blink or smirk if you looked too closely at them.

The gate opened and he walked through, suppressing whatever nervousness that his father still inspired in him.

He walked straight into the courtyard, and there he observed Ares in full armor, engaging in a mock battle with a boy who held his own against the God of War. No doubt Ares was holding back, but just watching, Eros recognized that Ares wasn't holding back nearly as much as he should be. Eros could see his son's eyes, focused and cold, concentrating on the task at hand. The boy managed to dodge a blow from his grandfather, and then he pivoted and attempted to knock Ares over. Ares wobbled on his feet for a moment, nearly toppling over, but he managed to right himself. But he ended the melee there, smiling at the grandson who nearly bested him.

This was a source of pride for Eros, and it confirmed that his instincts about Algos had been correct. Eros, for all that he had wanted to help his son, was not the right one to raise him. The darkness in the boy needed control as well as outlets. Who better to teach those lessons than Algos's grandfather, the God of War himself?

Having spied his son, Ares removed his elaborate helm and made a gesture at Algos, and the sparring ceased. "Are you impressed, my son? Algos is a far better fighter than you ever were."

Eros smirked. His father's put-downs had never worked on him, as Eros was absolutely happy to have been born a lover and not a fighter. "I can see that," he replied, his own eyes trained not on his father but his son. "And I couldn't be prouder of him. He'll one day be a match for you, father."

Algos ran toward his father and gave him a big hug, which Eros returned. "Do you really think so, father?"

Eros let his son go and knelt to his level. "I know so."

Algos smiled softly, and Eros felt a bit of a chill. The smile was genuine, but it was also a little cold, as if the boy was contemplating the damage he could do if he grew as strong and as skilled as his grandfather.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, son," said Ares. "Algos here is becoming a fine soldier and fighter, but he needs a better-rounded education." Ares paused, and he looked his son in the eye. "Better rounded education" was a euphemism for something, but Eros didn't quite know what. Algos was still a child, after all, too young for the romantic love that was Eros's specialty.

"I think he should spend some time at your palace," said Ares. "So he learns there is more to life than war and fighting. Or I could send him to your mother. I'm sure she'd love to have him."

Eros blinked. Aphrodite had been the opposite of a hands-on mother. Eros's boyhood had been spent roaming her palace, avoiding his studies and finding mischief. Looking down at his son, Eros felt highly uneasy when thinking of the kind of mischief Algos might get himself into.

He paused and looked down at his son. "Tell me, Algos, would you like to come to my palace and spend some time learning arts other than war?'

The boy nodded and hugged his father again. "Well then, go gather your things. We'll leave as soon as you have packed and said your goodbyes."

The boy darted toward the palace door and soon disappeared, moving at a swift pace despite the weight of his armor.

"Psyche doesn't know of his existence," breathed Eros. "I'll have to tell her before she returns."

Ares sheathed his sword and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "The boy came into existence before you even met. You can't believe she'll be angry..."

Eros shook her head. "She won't be, not about that, anyway. But she might fear him, and she might not be wrong."

Ares shook his head. "You can always bring the boy back, but I'm not lying when I say he needs to see something else besides war. He's too focused, and he enjoys it too much. It..."

Eros looked at his father, and he realized that Ares, the God of War, was about to admit to being scared of his own grandson. Eros swallowed. He cared for his son, but he also knew that he needed to be kept separate from the rest of the household. Psyche, Bliss, and the many servants shouldn't have to deal with Algos. The boy was Eros's responsibility.

"I understand, father," whispered Eros. "I understand."

A plan slowly formed in Eros's head. He'd have to contact Hermes about it, and perhaps he'd reach out to Athena as well. Algos needed him, and he would do right by his son, but he also needed to protect his other loved ones.

The whole situation felt dangerous to him, and it was a good deal out of his wheelhouse. He knew he had to tell Psyche the truth, and what he planned to do, but he didn't look forward to it. She would understand, of course, she always did. Her blasted logic and balance were a gift and a curse. She'd see the situation clearly, but she'd also have faith in Eros to handle it. Faith that Eros did not have in himself.