The comical ways of grief (A Valgrace story)

III

His affection was never meant to be public knowledge

To escape from his feelings, to escape from love had not been an easy road. Jason walked through a path filled with rage and lies. Everywhere he turned, everywhere he looked, overwhelming senses of crippling anxiety tried to take him over. It led to a tiny little room, limited of light and colors and ruled by dullness.

A tiny little room where he settled to live in.

To live, to believe the lie became easier and easier, to the point where Jason reckoned he could live the part forever.

But Jason was a demigod and nothing could ever be that easy:

The trip to look for the scepter was supposed to be easy. Facing Eros– or Cupid– was meant to be easy. And his secret was supposed to stay secret.

"Your master? Please tell me your master isn't Aeolus"

"That airhead? Favonius snorted. "No, of course not"

"He means Eros" Nico's voice turned edgy. "Cupid, in Latin"

When Jason met Cupid the crippling anxiety constantly knocking on his door took over, the little room he settled in became too claustrophobic to bear, and the lie became too heavy to continue carrying.

"Nothing?" Favonius cried. "The one you care for most... plunged into Tartarus, and still you will not allow the truth?"

"We've only come for Diocletian's scepter," Nico said, clearly anxious to change the subject. "Where is it?"

"Ah..."Favonius nodded sadly. "You thought it would be as easy as facing Diocletian's ghost? I'm afraid not, Nico. Your trials will be much more difficult. You know, long before this was Diocletian's Palace, it was the gateway to master's court. I've dwelt here aeons, bringing those who thought love into the presence of cupid"

"You took the scepter" Jason guessed.

"For safekeeping" Favonius agreed. "It is one of Cupid's many treasures, a reminder of better times. If you want it...: Favonius turned to Nico. "You must face the god of love"

Jason wasn't sure what Favonius wanted. but if facing the god of love meant forcing Nico into some sort of confession about which girl he liked, that didn't seem so bad.

'Nico, you can do this" Jason said, "It might be embarrassing, but it's for the scepter"

The wind god turned to Jason, an unsettling smile on his face. "Don't clean your hands just yet young son of Jupiter"

Jason's chest shrank into a knot.

Jason had faced various gods, titans, and monsters. All mighty and intimidating. They attacked with their claws and struck for the kill, yet none had scared Jason more than the god of love. Even when he carried weapons of war and the strength and agility of Heracles himself, what hurt the most, what left a scar that wouldn't leave was his knowledge over love and his obsession over it.

"Cupid," Jason called. "Where are you?"

The voice laughed. It definitely didn't sound like a cute baby angel's. It sounded deep and rich, but also threatening– like a tremor before a major earthquake.

"Where you least expect me" Cupid answered. "As love always is"

Something slammed into Jason and hurled him across the street. He topped down a set of steps and sprawled on the floor of an excavated Roman basement.