1. Chapter 1
Chapter one
Corre
T he air smelled like sunshine. That warm earth around the cottage always smelled faintly of the cocktail of flowers Correlia and her mother carefully grew. But today it was different. More , somehow, though the young goddess couldn’t place why or how. Maybe it was simply that her powers were getting stronger, growing like the pastel fields around her. The thick blanket of dewy grass stretched its way to the forest entrance beyond her tiny home. She swore it was all she’d looked at for the past week.
But it was worth it.
She stared down at the emerald leaves pouring over her fingers. The bright blush of pink that bloomed at the center created the perfect contrast. “Finally,” she breathed, blowing a strand of rose-gold hair from her face and placing her creation into the soil. With one slow wave of her hand, the earth swallowed the stem and roots, branching the velvety plant into the ground beneath.
A smile tugged at her lips for a fraction of a second, but it quickly collapsed when something tightened in her chest. Something threatening to take this small joy away from her. “Not today,” she whispered, patting the ground beside her rosy creation, anchoring herself to the present. Today was a day to celebrate. Her plant had been welcomed into the earth, successfully formed. At last.
It took almost two years of serious study, but Correlia—or Corre, as she was most well known—was finally getting the hang of this life she was to lead. These powers she never understood. Her mother had spoken with her extensively about her grand calling since she was old enough to retain the information. Then, as she got older and she approached training age, the discussions became more serious. She’d spoken of Corre’s responsibilities and why she and her powers were so necessary. So important . “You are Persephone,” she’d said. “You are the embodiment of life and light in this world.”
No pressure , she’d grumbled to herself.
Corre swallowed hard and planted her gaze firmly on the newly birthed flower draped beside her bent knees. As that sweet, grassy aroma once again filled her senses, a feeling of peace soaked into her skin. The newfound serenity allowed that faint smile on her lips to reform and spread in fullness across her face.
Despite any doubts or anxieties that crept into her mind, she couldn’t deny this victory. Up until now, all she could make were rust-colored weeds and wilted flowers that never stuck around or lived beyond their first moment placed in the earth. But today, she managed to bring color into the world. To make something sprout and liven the field around her home, alongside the intricate flowers created by her mother.
The nineteen-year-old had made her first successful creation at last. Not just a replica of whatever her mother had last shown her, which to date had been the only plants to stick around. She created something all her own, and it stuck. Just in time for her coronation.
And it felt pretty good.
Her cheek sunk lazily into her palm as she admired her little sprout. Strands of wavy hair fluttered against her skin, the wind wiggling the leaves and making the blades of grass dance around her. A content sigh escaped her lips as she fell back and stretched against the earth. “Day one of successfully becoming Persephone.” The first of many , she hoped.
When the wind blew the plant against her toes, and her eyes settled on the clouds swirling drunkenly above her, her smile dropped. How am I supposed to make a world of these? Her chest tightened again. That familiar pull tugging just a little harder. The moment her body tensed, something shook beneath her feet. She snapped up, and a gasp shot up her throat. Her beautiful pink and emerald creation shivered violently and began to wilt. “Oh no,” she whispered, immediately squeezing her eyes shut. “Breathe, Corre. Breathe.”
I don’t need to worry , she assured herself, tidying the chaos spiking in her mind. I’m already off to a good start. I can do this. I can do this.
Her breaths steadied, and the world around her slowed. Sunlight warmed her freckled skin, and the scent of that new flower wafted through her nose, pooling through her. She opened her eyes and looked at the pastel petals. Her shoulders relaxed. Her fingers slid down one of the plush leaves. “It didn’t disappear this time.” She closed her eyes again, soaking in the perfect combination of fresh, earthy aromas and warm caresses from the sun.
As soon as Corre had turned eighteen, she’d embarked on the path of study and tutelage to become Persephone. As a “Great One,” she was required to train thoroughly for two years in order to take on her given title at age twenty. It was what her adopted mother, Berenice, had readied her for since childhood. She hadn’t been allowed to train until then—something about it risking the wellbeing of the planet. So, Berenice taught her as best she could, having received instruction from Zeus himself.
But her twentieth birthday was only a few weeks away, and until today, she’d been no closer to fulfilling her role and prophecy as the goddess Persephone than she’d been when she was a child. Was one plant really something to celebrate?
The loud chirping of a bird made Corre look up. Its feathers were a beautiful mix of cyan and ruby, perfectly paired with the vibrant world around it. She smiled and leaned onto her back, studying the small creature’s round puff of a body and the sharpness of its beak. It chirped one more time before flying away. Her eyes followed it until its body became shrouded by the rich fullness of a maple tree a few yards away. Berenice had created that one. She had to learn the ways of creation before Corre did so she could properly teach her, but her powers were limited. Only her daughter could fulfill the job in its entirety.
Her mother was the Goddess of Agriculture, the assigned goddess “Demeter”. She had been given that power and title to help her adopted daughter. But all the pressure was on Corre, and she desperately wished it wasn’t.
The young goddess groaned, begging herself not to think about it all. But the time to show Zeus her powers was coming soon. She’d have to walk before his throne and show him what she could do.
But what if she wasn’t good enough? What would happen? Would she be cast off, too?
Her fist curled around a patch of grass. Would I become like…him?
Corre had heard stories of the Underworld for as long as she could remember. About the dangers lurking there, and who would one day be running it. It gave her chills to know that he’d been down there all this time, training to be completely evil, while she was up here training to make the world a brighter, more beautiful place.
Part of Corre didn’t believe he existed. He could be a myth for all she knew. Theron. The ruler of the Underworld. The appointed Hades.
“Corre!” Her name pierced through the songs of birds and shimmering plants. She tried to ignore it. “Corre!” She sighed and plastered on a smile, turning to face her mother. The tiny goddess waved at her from the end of the path at the mouth of the cottage. “Come in, child! Supper is ready, and I have something to tell you.”
“Coming!” she called, smoothing her starlight-colored dress as she rose. She reveled in the softness of the dirt and grass beneath her feet. Whatever her responsibilities were and whatever was going on around her melted away. It was a gift she’d always possessed: the ability to move forward. To be cheerful, despite anything and everything around her. Her mother often told her she was the sun itself. Which was why her true identity meant so much more than her title as a Great One.
She was Corre. Just Corre.
The moment she walked through the door, the young goddess was hit with the scent of freshly baked cinnamon bread. Every muscle in her body relaxed as they adjusted to the warm, cozy home. Her feet slid against cool tiles, wiping away the dirt as she padded to the wooden table in the middle of the kitchen, which was affixed to both the front entryway and main living quarters of the house. It was a small, snug cottage, but it was home.
“How was it out there?” Berenice asked, sorting through a drawer of silverware. Her hazelnut eyes crinkled as she smiled.
“I finally made something that didn’t die, so pretty well, actually.” Corre laughed, but Berenice’s eyes widened.
“Is that so? See!” she wobbled a spoon at her daughter, “I knew you were almost there!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Corre teased, waving a hand back with another laugh. When her mother grinned back at her, Corre couldn’t help but wonder if every god and goddess on Olympus was as happy as she was. Of course they are , she assured herself as Berenice placed a bundled loaf on the table in front of her. They have to be. If an orphan like her could revel in such happiness and love, all the others must have it in spades.
It only made sense.
Theron
Pain splintered through Theron’s chest, jerking him awake. His body shook as he lurched forward in bed. With one swift movement, he swept the inky black hair from his face and caught his breath. The slick coolness of sweat was nothing new, but he hated the clammy residue it left on his skin.
He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about before panic jostled him awake. Sweat clung to his skin, sticking the dark strands of hair to his face. He sped across his chambers, bending over the small fountain in his bedroom for any sort of relief. In the dim light of the washing room, Theron sighed, splashing cool water against his skin. These dreams—these nightmares—were becoming more frequent, more intense, in a way he didn’t understand. Grabbing a ratted towel to dry his face, Theron couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with his coronation. Maybe it was finally coming, after all these years.
His destiny may finally come to pass, and he would be Hades, ruler of the Underworld and God of the Dead, after all this time. The ruler of his own kingdom.
A scream echoed through his corner of the labyrinth, but he didn’t budge. He hated that he was used to it. The screams, like the nightmares, were his constant companion and were becoming more frequent. It had been hard at first—when he was small and afraid of every creak and snarl that snapped at him—but now the sound was like static in the back of his mind. Just another sound to ignore.
He pulled on a new tunic and wrapped his crow-black cape around his shoulders, clasping it at his throat, when a knock pounded at the door. “What?” he shouted, irritation dripping from the word. Someone mumbled on the other side, but the thick metal was impossible to hear through. Theron growled under his breath and strode to the door, flinging it open and glaring at the hunched creature gawking up at him. “What is it?”
The demon trembled, bowing its long, hollow head. “You’re wanted in Master Thanatos’s quarters, sir.” Even without eyes in its beaked skull, the servant’s fear was evident. It, like most other creatures slithering around Tartarus, appeared decayed—this one even more so. Its body was withered, shriveled to little more than bones, making its large, crow-like face even more exaggerated.
Theron raised an eyebrow. What was so urgent that his master needed him so early in the morning? He hadn’t requested his pupil’s presence for weeks. Thanatos’s face flashed through Theron’s mind, in a memory from long ago, but he resisted the urge to let it linger. Pain cranked the muscles in the young Hades’ chest, and his gloved hand curled into a fist. Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. I can handle it.
He swallowed and shot a glare down at the trembling creature. “Why is my presence needed?”
“Something about a new assignment,” the demon croaked, raising its head to stare up at its master.
“What ? ” Theron’s eyebrows drew together. New assignment? After another moment, he nodded and said, “You may leave now. Tell him I’ll be there right away.”
The demon nodded and scurried away like a rat down the corridor.
Theron’s heart pounded against his chest, but he didn’t let the possibilities of what Thanatos might do poke fear into the armor of strength he’d spent all these years constructing.
Without another thought, he took a deep breath and headed toward Thanatos’s chambers.