Pomegranate

  Prologue

  All legends are born out of truth. All fairytales have slivers of facts buried in their history, and what today is known as merely myth and foolishness was once very real. As stories are passed down through time from one generation to the next, facts are exaggerated and omitted until what was once a simple story becomes fantasy. But if you dig deep enough, all legends have a beginning; and while many tales are rooted in truth, there is one that’s true story has all been but forgotten.

  In the beginning, legend tells us that Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades were brothers who overthrew the first gods, their Titan parents, and took the world for themselves. By drawing lots, Zeus, king of the gods, became ruler of the skies. Brave Poseidon drew the lot of the seas, but wicked Hades was tricked into drawing the lot of the Underworld where he became the most feared and hated of the gods. This is merely legend though. The truth...

  The truth is very different. Zeus and Poseidon were indeed brothers who overthrew their parents after their power-lusting father Cronus began to hunt down his own children. They split the world as they saw fit: Zeus with the sky and Poseidon with the seas. The Underworld, though, ruled itself. Sealed off from the rest of the world, it was greatly feared… even by the gods.

  For in the days when Cronus ruled, the Titans built themselves a great fortress in between heaven and hell. The Fortress possessed two Great Doors on either end of its vastness, one opening on Elysium, and the other on Tartarus and the Underworld. From the beginning of time the Underworld did its own bidding, but one Titan, mighty yet too proud, strode through the door to Tartarus believing he had the power to subdue the beast called hell. He would step over the threshold of hell destined never to return, for in the bowels of the deep there are god-killers, and they ripped him to shreds. A great panic spread over the Titans. If the Underworld could claim one of their greatest, who then would be safe?

  Cronus felt the weight of the fear rippling through his fortress and called upon his brothers. Joined together as one, Cronus and the Titans sealed the Great Door to Tartarus shut. Separated from the land of the living by the River Styx and now sealed off from the Titan fortress by the Great Door, the Underworld was left to its seclusion. Cronus vowed it would stay that way, sealed for all eternity until the Universe saw fit to birth a child of power, power meant for the darkness that lurked just beyond the stone. He declared that he who would one day break the seal of the Great Door would be bound to the Underworld and for all eternity keep it at bay as the door once did. And the fury that was once Hell’s would be his to unleash.

  Over the next centuries, Titan’s would present themselves and their children to the great door in the hopes that they were the powerful one, but the door’s seal refused to give way. Not a shiver, not a groan. Sealed. And as time wore on fewer and fewer Titans visited the door in hopes of grandeur until finally the door stood solemn and alone. Forgotten.

  Centuries later the Titans would fall to Zeus and Poseidon in the Great War nearly destroying earth. It left the once great Titan fortress in empty ruins, and the new gods made for themselves a new home on Mount Olympus. Yet the Great Door still remained shut tight. The Olympians possessed a grave fear of the Underworld, and even though there was the promise of power to he who broke the seal, none of the new gods ventured down to the ruins of the Titan fortress to test their strength against the door.

  But as for Hades, the third brother of legend… in the beginning, Hades was not even a god, but rather an immortal of Olympus. Once a mortal of earth, Hades had so pleased the gods that life among them was granted. On Mount Olympus, Hades’ eternal youth was that of pure beauty said to have rivaled the beauty of Aphrodite herself. All were captivated by the splendor that was Hades, but Zeus most of all. For Zeus loved her.

  I

  Hades’ eyes snapped open, her heart slamming against the walls of her chest. She could hear the blood rushing through her ears and feel the bumps on her arms rise in a cold chill. Her breath was labored, body frozen stiff. Fear was the best way to describe it, and then again it wasn’t. Hades had been harshly jolted out of a deep sleep by a wave of alarming panic that would have stilled the heart of any other, but not her. She loved this feeling. She loved the cold that rushed over her skin, loved the deafening sound her heart made as it crashed against her ribs. She loved how no matter what she had been doing, this paralyzing rush made it completely irrelevant. She loved this sheer terrifying panic, for it meant one thing… a god had entered her presence, and she knew exactly which one it was.

  Hades lay in her bed silent and still, letting her heart slow and her skin forget the cold shivers. Her deep pomegranate red hair lay over her white bed sheets like blood spilling over an altar; her full lips clenched shut while her dark blue eyes stared at the ceiling growing accustomed to the night. When the corners of her ceiling became visible, she shifted her eyes around the room. Her furniture rose in the darkness like great beasts. The sheer curtains flapped in the night breeze like demons come to take her, and then her eyes fell on the broad shadow blocking the moonlight. He stood in the dark, his huge frame covering the entire opening that was her window. He was tall, so very tall with shoulders so smooth and so broad one could not help but stare in awe. His skin taught and perfectly stretched over muscles only gods could possess. His large arms were folded firmly over his chest, and the moonlight danced over his short blonde hair as he gazed outside, his bare back facing her.

  Hades’ eyes drank in the sight of him as if he were water in the desert sand. Slowly pushing the sheets from her body and swinging her bare feet to the floor, she silently moved towards him, the swing of her hips causing her gown to swish gracefully about her ankles. Sliding behind him, her slender arms slipped around his waist. His back felt warm as she pulled him close, her fingers tracing a path over his skin until they came to a rest on his chiseled chest. Without a word massive hands folded over hers, and they stood pressed together utterly silent letting the night air wash over their faces.

  “What’s troubling you?” she ventured, her soft voice breaking the silence. He ignored her though, his jaw set in a harsh line as he stared out into the darkness. Craning her neck around his mountain of a shoulder, she stared at him her cheek resting on the warm flesh of his arm. But even with her gaze boring into him, Zeus remained silent; and so with an almost imperceptible sigh, Hades squeezed his hand reminding him that she was still waiting on an answer. By all that was good on Olympus, he was beautiful.

  “There is nothing troubling me,” he spoke into the night, an automatic response to her gentle prodding.

  “Every time you stand at this window, your heart is heavy with something,” she said, her lips murmuring the words into his bicep.

  “You know me too well,” he replied, the corners of his mouth turning up as he finally turned his gaze to hers. He looked at her for a long moment before squeezing her hands lovingly as his eyes wandered back to the night outside her window.

  “Well?” Hades asked, her gaze unwavering.

  “The gods’ grumbling is growing louder. It’s becoming harder to ignore,” he answered finally, his chest slightly deflating as he let out the air in his lungs.

  “What grumbling?” Hades asked, her brow furrowed.

  “Against you,” Zeus answered. “For decades they have kept silent but no more.” Hades let go of Zeus and backed up. Finding her bed with the back of her legs she sank to the satin watching Zeus turn his hulking body around to face her. “You are not a god, my love.”

  “I know that… they do too… always have. Why now do they decide to grumble?”

  “Because,” Zeus’ face fell, the words he was about to utter were bile. “They will not have an immortal as Queen. Their grumbling betrays what the council’s final decision will be. Only a goddess will be accepted as Queen of Olympus, and all my love for you will not change that.”

  “Queen?” was the only word Hades managed to get passed her lips.

  “You would automatically become queen by marriage.”

  “Marriage?” She uttered, still not able to find the words to speak in full sentences.

  “Yes,” Zeus laughed a little. “You did know that is what I wanted?”

  “Yes,” she struggled to find her tongue. “I had hoped.”

  “Hades,” he said, her name tasting of honey on his lips. “My beautiful Hades, I have wanted to wed you for decades, but if the gods’ grumbling grows much louder, the council could forbid it.”

  “They can do that?”

  “They can try.”

  “But you are Zeus, their king.”

  “And the last time a king defied his council and his family, his children overthrew him in a great war that almost destroyed earth.”

  Hades opened her mouth to say something but couldn’t find the words. She could barely wrap her mind around what he was saying. The pit of her stomach churned like one of Poseidon’s storms. She loved this man with all of her soul, and now he stood in front of her speaking of queens, councils and fallen gods and that somehow they had a say over her love.

  “I don’t want to be queen,” she whispered faintly into the night air. “I just want you.”

  “Unfortunately, to marry me is to become queen,” he said but seeing concern marring her beautiful face added, “But nothing is certain. The council has not spoken, and I may yet be able to sway their decision.” Zeus moved towards the bed covering the distance in one massive step. He reached out and scooped her up folding her into his powerful arms before he too sank to a seat. His skin was warm against hers, a
nd Hades could feel the massive pumping of his heart. It was strong and rhythmic, its steadiness comforting. She pressed her head on his chest and listened to the blood coursing through his veins.

  “Make sure you tell them that I do not want to be their queen,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I just want you.”

  Zeus placed his massive hand gently on the back of her head pulling her closer. “I know,” was all he could manage to whisper back. “I know.”

  Zeus watched out the window as the fiery rays of light began flickering in the sky as the great sun blinked awake. Hades had fallen asleep hours ago, but Zeus had remained awake staring out of the window cradling the beautiful red-haired woman. His eyes remained unblinking as the dark sky turned pink. The world was so quiet as all of Olympus and all of earth slept. Even Hades was peaceful in her slumber. Zeus enjoyed the silence. His body would become still like a statue, muscles frozen, eyes open wide. The problems of the world almost faded away in moments like these; moments where he let everything disappear, and in his solitude, the only thing he was aware of was the slight rising and falling of Hades’ breath and the pitch-black sky being set on fire. The fire started out as sparks, and these sparks were a reminder to him that the end to his solitude was fast approaching, that his rigid stillness with the red-haired girl would be disrupted. He hated when these moments ended because if the council went against him he might never have this silent perfection again.

  The sun’s arms stretched higher into the sky causing the shadows to run and hide in fear. Zeus’ eyes finally blinked starting a chain reaction of movement that rippled throughout his body. He stood to his feet still cradling Hades in his massive arms and in a few large but silent steps made his way from the foot of her bed to the head ever so gently setting her still sleeping figure down. He brushed her red hair from her face letting his fingertips brush lovingly against her cheeks before pulling the white satin sheet over her perfectly shaped body. Zeus straightened up to his full hulking height gazing at Hades, printing a permanent picture of her peaceful face in his mind, and then before she could wake he was gone.

  Zeus walked through the empty corridors that had grown out of the very stones of Mount Olympus. He was surprisingly silent despite his hulking weight and heavy steps, and as he rounded every corner it was as if the hallways had never even been disturbed.

  He eventually came to two massive doors on the opposite side of the Council Chambers and planted his hands firmly on either one. His muscles writhed under his skin as he pushed, the hinges creaking with their weight as they opened and continued until they had swung shut with a thud. When the Olympians had first come to the Mountain, it was nothing but a striking peak in the clouds, but the moment Zeus and Poseidon had set foot on the stone, Mount Olympus began to creak and strain beneath them before growing up further towards the sun. At first, it made no sense to the two young brothers why the stone at this very moment had begun to change its height, but eventual forms began to take shape. Thus the Home of the Olympians was grown from the very Mountain on which it now stood, no tools and no manpower, just smooth solid continuous stone. It had emerged from the ground with the Council Chambers being the highest point, which was circled by the ring of the gods’ residence, which then, in turn, was circled by the residence of the immortals. Hades’ room was on the opposite side of the Council Chambers from his, which wasn’t far, but at the moment it might as well have been at the bottom of the sea.

  Inside Zeus’ room, the curtains were drawn leaving it as dark as when he had left it hours before. His mighty thunderbolt still lay propped up against the wall where he had laid it to rest. It didn’t look like much, the long jagged spear of an old worn metal the likes unknown to mankind. Its slightly zigzagging body and rough dark grey surface gave off the appearance of shoddy craftsmanship, but the pure electric power it possessed was no careless matter. In his hands, the old metal was great and terrible.

  “Hello, brother.” A deep voice shattered the silence, causing Zeus to turn around with a jolt. There in the corner with his feet casually propped up on a table and his tall bronze colored rusting three-pronged trident in hand sat Poseidon. He was tall like Zeus, but not as hulking. He was a lean man with long muscles, long arms, and a long torso. His hair was darker blonde than his brother’s, and unlike Zeus’ clean shave Poseidon sported dirty blonde scruff on his handsome face. His sea-green eyes stared right into Zeus’ blue.

  “What are you doing here?” Zeus asked startled by his brother’s intrusion. It always unnerved him how his slender brother could catch him off guard. Not one person, be it god or man, could sneak up on Zeus save his brother. It always irritated him, and this morning was no exception to that.

  “I have heard rumors, brother,” Poseidon said looking at his brother as he slowly spun the end of his unearthly metal trident on the floor. “Rumors about the red-haired woman.”

  “Hades does not concern you,” Zeus retorted.

  “She does when it involves my brother, and the grave mistake he is about to make.” Poseidon continued still twisting his trident. It was eerie how his hands spun the weapon, threatening without an actual threat.

  “Hera is to be queen, Zeus,” he continued. “I am going to make sure of it.” Poseidon stopped twisting his trident gripping it tight. “My sister is a great goddess; she will not be subjected to your immortal.” He pulled his legs off the table and stood to his feet stretching to his full lean height. “The rumors about the red-haired girl best not be true. My sister will not be humiliated. If she is I will be very angry… and I will not be the only one.” Poseidon strode towards Zeus striking his trident on the ground like a massive walking stick, the ringing of metal striking stone echoing throughout the room.

  Poseidon clasped the back of Zeus’ neck with his free hand and pulled his brother's head towards him, kissing Zeus on the cheek, a gesture that was neither friendly nor loving. The two stared at each other, eyes wide seeing which would blink first. Neither did. The look in Poseidon’s green eyes unnerved Zeus, though, so he stepped back forcing Poseidon’s hand to fall limply to his side. The corners of Poseidon’s mouth curved up.

  “I’ll see you at the council, brother.” Poseidon’s words were a cross between honey and vinegar as he hoisted his trident into the air. His long legs carried him to the heavy doors, his long sinewy arm pulling one of them open just enough for his lean figure to slip out leaving Zeus standing alone in the dark room stone-faced and unsettled.

  Crack! A flash of golden lightning ripped through the air. Hades put her brush down and went to her window. Crack! Another flash tore through the morning silence. Lightning shot from one cloud to another setting ablaze the morning sky with an unholy light. Cloud to cloud lightning always meant Zeus was angry.

  Hades sighed and left her room knowing where he would be. There was a cliff on the edge of Mount Olympus, a length below the top on which the gods had built their lives, where Zeus went when he required solitude. This particular cliff offered an impressive view of the earth below, and on days where the sun was shy, the clouds completely covered it in mist and fog rendering it nonexistent. Zeus had claimed this little spot of rock as his own, and she was the only other person on Olympus that knew it was even there.

  Hades wandered through the open corridors, her dress and hair blowing about in the morning breeze. She took the quickest route out of the buildings to the open green fields that ran long and rolling only to end abruptly at the mountain’s edge, where they dropped off suddenly leaving nothing but air and a long plunge down towards earth. Out here in the static open air, the cracks of the lightning were singeing the sky with an acrid smell. They were in fact so close she could reach up and shove her hand straight into the bolts, but she didn’t. One time she had been out in the fields with Zeus during a lightning storm watching as he had reached up and put his hand into the flash. The electric jolt that had ripped through the air after that was terrifying, anchoring her feet fast to the ground, but Zeus had only laughed and then proceeded to grab her hand and thrust it into the light. The shock of the lightning jerked through her rushing over her skin like icy needles, paralyzing her. Her hand had gone numb after that incident and it took days for her to wash the burning smell from her singed hair, and that was with her hand in Zeus’. She would never dare touch the light on her own, so Hades let the lighting crack and scream close above her head as she crossed the field to the edge of the mountain letting the charged static air tickle her skin.