Chapter 6 #2
But Hera interjected, her tone sharp. “Why this particular curiosity about these errors, my love? I am certain that they will prove as dull as all errors are.”
“I am under the impression that I asked you to refrain from speaking. You are excused from this meeting. I presume you are occupied with numerous tasks for your feast?” He bit out the words, anger causing his veins to surface on his olive skin.
Testy man, indeed.
As Hera watched him closely, her nostrils widened in an effort to manage her own growing rage.
Since the gods did not want to interfere in the spouses’ unexpected argument, they kept silent.
They were all cognizant that Zeus and Hera could not avoid getting into a conflict with one another. That was their true nature.
With no additional comment, Hera stood from her chair, and within moments, she stepped toward the door to abandon the tense atmosphere that grew with their discussion.
Shadow observed her approaching his location, and at the precise moment she grasped the door handle, Hera reacted with a dismissive sniff—even as her eyebrows drew together in utter bewilderment.
She sensed me.
Although she could have said something, Hera refrained from doing so. Surely, her anger outweighed any curiosity about the sudden and strong smell of peonies. Ultimately, she exited the room.
Finally.
“Athena, please proceed with the names of the mortals you found interesting,” Zeus finally said once his wife left the room, his expression contorting with boredom and a subtle, scarcely visible flicker of interest.
“Draven Moore, Zachary and Nicolas Jenkins, Yvonne Torres, and Verena Sloane.” Athena listed each error as though she had rehearsed their names to ensure her presentation would be impeccable and beyond reproach. “These competitors do not appear to be intimidated by death.”
“Indeed, we shall keep a close watch on them,” Zeus replied, his tone betraying his indifference.
It was unlikely he’d remain engrossed in the subject, as he didn’t care about the errors. Zeus only wanted to portray a king who was involved in everything, no matter how futile or tedious the task. Yet, those who truly understood him recognized he was detached from such topics.
Congratulations, esteemed king.
With a furrowed brow, Zeus remained fixed on his bracelet, seemingly engaged in an internal dialogue. With sharp and unrelenting intensity, Hades’ pitch black eyes locked on Zeus, creating a sensation as if he was desperately attempting to pull him back from the concealed depths of his mind.
With a swift movement, Zeus relaxed in the chair and looked to the ceiling, taking in the details of the murals that covered it.
The gods, seeming to disregard their king’s altered mood, chattered about several subjects, ultimately making the atmosphere feel strained with tension. Shadow intuitively sensed the facade and understood it was a calculated effort to obscure the true nature of the situation.
What are you all hiding from each other?
Positioned in the right corner of the table, Dionysus and Apollo were seated beside Demeter, the only goddess who did not appear to be pleased with the interaction between her divine counterparts. The two men exchanged heated words near Demeter, whose jaw clenched and face burned with resentment.
Shadow almost felt sorry for the goddess.
Ever since she lost contact with her only child, she hasn’t been herself.
Her transformation was clear to all, yet no one felt bold enough to address it directly.
Her remorse was so profound that the mere thought of discussing her actions was unbearable, a sentiment too heavy even for the gods to countenance.
He moved his attention to the middle of the table, where Athena was trying to explain to her brother, Ares, the strategy the contestants could use during the first trial.
With a slow blink and a barely-there scowl, Ares slouched in his seat and offered her a grunt instead of an answer.
“Do you ever stop being boring or is it a continuous thing for you? Athena, nobody is concerned with such complex strategies during a trial,” he said, both annoyed and amused by his sister. “In this situation, they are only interested in winning, not in how to do it.”
Athena let out a laugh as she placed her golden pen on the table.
“That is precisely why you are the best soldier and war captain, and I am the strategist.”
“Nonsense,” he added, his brows knitted faintly as he breathed out through his nose.
Predictable discussion between the Gods of war, indeed. Not interesting at all.
“Speak.” Hades’ voice directed Shadow’s interest toward him.
A true friend, indeed.
Since he realized that something was amiss with his friend, he kept him within his sight. Attempting to read every expression etched on his face, Shadow searched for a genuine understanding of the emotions concealed beneath the various facades Zeus had constructed.
“Later,” Zeus answered, his expression not faltering as he blinked with deliberate, slow movements. He leaned back in his chair and waved his hand in the air.
The God of the Underworld, Death, and the Lord of the Dead demanding the god of them all to speak? There must be something interesting there.
Speaking his own mind made him susceptible to vulnerability, and Zeus was incapable of accepting vulnerability, Shadow thought, continuing to analyze the gods.
“What is the subject you wish to discuss?” Eros intervened, prying into their conversation.
Eros cast a quick glance at the two men; his lips pressed into a firm line. There was a shift in the atmosphere, intensified by their exchanged glances.
Are they up to something without the other gods’ knowledge? The question rose inside Shadow’s void.
The two gods eyed him, with Hades’ stare not betraying any emotion, while Zeus’s was indeed betraying many. As he positioned the crown atop his head with his long, chiseled fingers, a venomous smile slowly formed on his lips.
“Curious little bird,” Zeus snarled, his voice dropping so low that one would have to watch his mouth to comprehend the words. “You must be patient. You will be informed shortly after this meeting.”
After glancing at his king with a questioning expression, Eros’s eyes darted to the door as if something called for him in that moment. Shadow had remained still, lingering near the door and continuing his efforts to remain unseen.
Eros narrowed his gaze, trying to determine whether a figure was present in that spot or if it was merely a product of his own imagination.
What are you looking for?
As Shadow shifted away from the door, Eros’ gaze also moved in the same direction. He was following Shadow, even though there was nothing to be seen—only to be felt.
“Brother, what is the reason for your quietude?” Zeus asked Poseidon, his eyes darting to the man sitting at the end of the table.
The brothers chattering captured Eros’s attention, pulling him away from trying to find what—or perhaps who—he was looking for.
He has ceased giving me his attention.
Perfect.
Shadow turned his attention toward the other god, and if he were alive, he certainly would have rolled his eyes at the sight of him.
There’s no way he would have left his weapon in the sea. He had to carry it to demonstrate his authority, despite being obedient to his brother, Zeus.
Feeling envy over his own blood.
Pathetic.
With his hand gripped around the trident, Poseidon raised his eyes to Zeus and moved his lips into a straight line, the wiry beard hair encircling his mouth subtly scratching against his lips.
“This should not be characterized as quietude, but rather as contemplation,” he responded, his profound, authoritative voice echoing throughout the room.
The king raised an eyebrow at him and placing his hand on the table, assessed the man. “Are you contemplating? Upon what subject?”
“Do you not think you may have exhibited a degree of arrogance during the discussion?” Poseidon spoke, and the irony in his words was palpable in the strained atmosphere. “It is not the aspiration of a true king to seek the admiration of wretched mortals.”
Even though I had not been present there, I’m sure he showed off and embarrassed himself over there.
Zeus straightened his back and raised his chin to look down at his brother, as his prominent jaw clenched.
“Without arrogance, a king is not a king,” he told his relative, letting the corner of his mouth curve up into a defying smirk. “Arrogance arises from having the ultimate power; a privilege you are not familiar with as you do not possess it.”
As Zeus’s voice became more intense, the atmosphere intensified. The two brothers were shooting daggers at each other simply by maintaining eye contact.
The narrative remains consistently boring.
An angelic voice silenced the room. “Are we finished with this performance? Our purpose in gathering here today is to address this year’s gambit, but you have only engaged in conflict.”
Well, if it isn’t the goddess of peace and family herself—Hestia.
Her cerulean eyes were radiant, filled with the light of absolute hope, and her rose-colored lips formed a small, tentative smile as she took her time to analyze each of her fellow gods. Upon reaching Zeus, she swiftly glanced at Eros, who offered a reassuring nod.
As if to speak, Zeus’s mouth parted open but then snapped shut, all while maintaining his unwavering stare on Hestia. Not once did he look away from the goddess whose white hair danced on her shoulders.
Curious thing.
Zeus has always spoken his mind, never holding back until now.
“The meeting is adjourned,” Zeus announced curtly, his jaw tight. He then glared at Eros. “Eros, you are to remain.”
If the tension in the room was high earlier, it now surpassed that. The clash of gods began sooner than expected, and it might’ve been possible for everything to turn out more interesting in the end.
Quietly thrilled, indeed.
Before she stood up, Artemis looked at Eros and made a quick, indecipherable remark with her lips, her fingers patting his shoulder in good luck.
Encouraging her friend. What a remarkable goddess.
While the other gods rose from their seats and walked toward the door, Hades disappeared, leaving only dark matter behind. Shadow lingered farther back from them to avoid being noticed once more.
He didn’t want to make his presence known at such an important moment. He was eager to witness what Zeus had planned to talk about with Eros.
Now the room of Concord wasn’t filled by the same intense atmosphere as it previously was—instead, it was filled with the breath of two of the most powerful gods of Olympus, who were waiting for something only one of them knew about.
Zeus, with his broad, muscular shoulders squared, leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table in order to support his upper body. He locked his silvery eyes on Eros, building a challenging eye contact with him as the left corner of his mouth curved up into a one-sided smile.
Unlike his king, the God of Love maintained a relaxed posture, subtly avoiding any display of defiance by keeping his arms at his sides.
His face gave nothing away—there were no signs of a furrowed brow, a clenched jaw, or even a tightly set mouth.
He carried only a grounded energy, not letting his king feel him distracted or tense.
Equanimous.
The only sound cutting through the silence between the two was their breathing. Zeus’s breath hitched as he broke eye contact and let his attention fall somewhere close to the door.
“Show yourself, skiá.”
Skiá.
The void in him stirred as Zeus’s gravelly voice called for him.
He crept closer to the table where the two gods were sitting, still not showing himself to them.
As he analyzed them, Eros did not show any emotion when faced with his king’s request—he rather appeared content with merely drifting his gaze to the side where Shadow was lingering.
Finally, something of interest is occurring.
“I was already here, basileús,” Shadow finally declared, his voice echoing as if every shadow in the room amplified his words for him to be truly heard.
While Eros refused to acknowledge him, Zeus directed his eyes toward the area where the shadows remained. And then, from nothingness, the air morphed into a human-like shape made of dark matter.
Ignoring my presence.
Really discourteous.
“I have been aware of your newly earned freedom. I have no interest whatsoever in learning how you escaped or what it is you are after; to silently analyze your gods and—”
“I have no gods, basileús*,” Shadow interrupted the king, inching closer to him. “In light of your apparent disregard for my presence and your failure to remember vital information about me, a review of your visual and mnemonic functions is recommended.”
Zeus tsked as he let himself fall back into his chair, while still maintaining his gaze on Shadow. “Because you seem to possess a high degree of intelligence, I request your presence for a matter of great importance.”
“And why would this matter of great importance of yours matter to me?”
He arched an eyebrow and approached, preparing to resume. “I am willing to offer you something in exchange.”
“What conceivable benefit could you offer to your favorite skiá*?”
“You have my word that you will never be imprisoned again.” Zeus began explaining, averting his eyes to Eros, and then back to Shadow.
“This is what I am able to provide. My proposal should not be construed as a benevolent gesture, but rather as an assertion of my authority, which encompasses the power to both bestow and withdraw your freedom”.
A pact made with the God of all gods.
Indeed, this is the missing piece of the puzzle I have needed since I regained my freedom.
The clash of the deities was about to begin.
Delightful.
* From Greek Basileús (βασιλε??) = “king” or “sovereign.”
* From Greek σκι? (skiá) = “shadow.”