The Scared God [ManXManXMan]

Chapter Twenty-one: Союз - Soyuz

~Chapter Twenty-one: Союз – Soyuz~

Though I want nothing more than to sit here and pretend the Greek messenger does not exist, it would be foolish to allow Hermes to wander the palace, so I wipe my face on the sleeve of my tunic, wincing a little as the fabric, which is far from soft rubs unpleasantly against the irritated skin around my eyes. It does not put an end to my tears, unfortunately, but standing up does help aid me in shutting the waterworks down. I still feel the dull ache in my chest, but I hastily throw up my emotional walls in order to keep it from hurting me more.

The first deep breath I take is shaky and weak, which only adds water to the seeds of frustration already planted by everything that has happened. However, a couple more attempts leave me with enough composure to leave the library. After tapping into the realm's magic, I manage to pinpoint Hermes' exact location, and I immediately head to the secondary throne room, the one meant for entertaining visitors rather than judging the dead.

As I head his way, though, my steps start to slow before faltering and stopping entirely just in front of the throne room doors. Maybe I should do what I did last time and return to guarding the gate.

Before I even finish that thought, though, I dismiss it. It turned out okay last time because I revived shortly after hiding out there and did not end up having to face Hermes. Right now, though, I am only on day three of an at least two-week stay in Iriy. I suppose it could be shorter, as I never really experimented with my revival time concerning suicide, but it could also be longer. And spending more than a week in front of the gate to hide from Hermes sounds like a nightmare.

I suppose I could just wait out there until I have composed myself, but there is no guarantee he will not leave and then return at a worse time. Though, considering how much I do not want to face him, especially not with my no doubt recently-cried appearance, I just might be willing to take that risk. He could arrive at a worse time, or he could arrive at a time when I am more prepared to face him; either way, that time would not be now.

That is, unless the time in Iriy is moving slower than the time in the other realms. I could hide out until he leaves, only for him to reappear a minute or two later, a full week having passed in the living realms. Of course, it could go the other way, though, and a few weeks here might only be a few hours out there.

Feeling a sudden burst of frustration over the unending loop of possibilities, I angrily run my fingers through my hair and start to pace in front of the door. I wipe at my face again, though I know it is only making my face look worse. So fucking what if he sees me crying. I'm a god, not an insecure teenager.

However, even as my frustrated pacing stops, I still hesitate. I am certain he knows I am out here, as messengers always know where the people they are looking for are with their magic, but I cannot seem to muster the courage to open the doors. I know I should, as I am already here, but...

What if he is here to torture me? What if Zeus found some way to force me out of Iriy without a revival? What if he discovered a way to kill me permanently?

That last question, as improbable as it is, sends a chill down my spine, and my hands press against my stomach uncomfortably as something heavy settles in my gut. My next breath is shaky on the exhale, but I manage to shove down the rising panic. Not wanting to give myself a chance to freak out by waiting any longer, I drop my hands from my stomach and kick open the doors, forcing myself to toughen up lest Hermes catch on. Though, if my undoubtedly red face is not already a big enough hint that something is amiss, then he might just be dull enough to miss anything else that happens.

"What does your father want, Hermes?" I demand, not even glancing at the dark-haired messenger god as I pass by him on the way to my throne. However, instead of sitting in it, I pause beside it and lean against the throne's high arm before daring to look at him.