The Taste Of Divinity

Τ Ε Σ Σ Ε Ρ Α

The past spoke to him some nights.

It came to him in the darkness of his chamber and crawled silently to his side, whispering memories to him, the faint words sneaking inside his ear with ease. They changed forms after they reached him, bursting and turning into colours that painted images he couldn't forget, not even when he slept.

And the images ran beneath his eyelids, teasing him with their softly misted edges, deceiving him into forgetting the sheer cruelty that hid in their centre.

That cruelty took many faces.

It took the face of an oath made by the banks of a river that connects the land of the dead with that of the living, a river of hate that, using the voice of his brother, promised him love. It was nothing but words, that oath, and yet it hid enough power that if ever fulfilled would cause a catastrophe unlike any other.

It took the face of a memory that visited him more than any other. The memory of the gift he'd received after claiming his unwanted throne.

It usually came to him while the scent of asphodels clung to his skin, as if to help him remember and not mock him. And so, it was not strange how the past slithered over to him mere minutes after Hermes departed, leaving him in a flowery haze seconds before succumbing to the delirium.

There sitting on his throne, Hades recalled how the Moirai had come to him the first night of his rule, the first night his body rested on emeralds, diamonds and gold.

❁❁

The Great doors opened to reveal the new King waltzing in, wearing his armour even though the war was long over, as was the celebration that had come after it. He strode inside the room holding his head high, the way only a young God can manage while gold drips from his wounds.

A wreath adorned with golden leaves and delicate myrtle flowers rested on his dark head while his fingers held tightly onto his helmet of invisibility, the object that had forced the Titans to face defeat.

"I wasn't anticipating a welcoming party. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" He asked the figures standing patiently by his grand ebony throne. His voice was harsh and loud like Zeus' thunder and yet it travelled in waves, caressing the air as if it was a long lost lover.

The three sisters were draped in a similar avalanche of gossamer fabrics which hid their wretched forms from the wandering eyes of the shadows lurking all around. What little skin they showed appeared equally diaphanous and fragile.

The gentlest of the three, Klotho, found a smile tugging at her lips as his teasing tone reached her ears.

"Always the charmer, Aidoneus." Klotho greeted him properly, moving closer to him and placing a small hand on his shoulder.

He, in return, inclined his head in respect. "Klotho." He then, turned his attention to the two remaining Moirai and greeted them in the same manner. "Lachesis. Atropos."

Klotho removed her pale, vein filled hand from his shoulder and reclaimed her position between her sisters. "Your reign begins today."

"I am aware." His lips twitched. "Have you come to congratulate me?"

Lachesis laughed, a terrible, painful sound that'd make the ears of any mortal unfortunate enough to hear it bleed. "Congratulate you for what, for playing a trick on the Titans with your little helmet? For continuing the circle? No, dear King we have not come to congratulate you."