Chapter Text
The long winter was finally coming at an end.
Slowly the snow melted into water and mud, the sun was brighter and warmer, and people looked happier and serene. Goddess Lady Demeter gave in to Lord Sun Helios, yet with some reluctance ; days were still cold and the wind would still bring illness for imprudents mortals.
Like every cycle, people would start again to take care of their frozen fields, sow, grow, and reap their crops during the year, until next arsh Demeter's winter. Animal would come back from warmer regions of the world, birds would sings their melodic notes, the forests would start to live again. Life would come back after a long slumber.
Strangely though, there was one place, in this country called Greece, where one field would never lack of sun and water ; whether Lord Helios' sun burnt the crops or Lady Demeter's ice froze them.
This field was plenty of good scenting flowers, the trees would crumble under juicy and delicious fruits and vegetables would grow into a mix of various glittering colors.
"Zagreus, can you help with these, please? Zagreus!" the woman called.
She was carrying a basket of carrots and struggled to unearth them from the soil. They grew huge during the past months. She grumbled some words and wiped the sweat on her forehead with her dirty hands. Sure this boy would never stay in place more than ten minutes. Despite being hardworking, Zagreus would never stop to explore the surroundings of their domains. And thus was often scolded by his mother - and she would always forgive him.
The young man didn't hear the call. He was quite busy observing then melting ice of a passing river in the forest. The layer was thick and like a child, he would put his burning foot to accelerate the process. He knew it was childish, but he didn't care. The hissing sound of the water going directly from ice to hot vapor was satisfying. The crumbling gloomy sound of breaking ice, like a strike of thunder, was delightful. Sometimes, even the tiniest thing can be a source of joy, they say. That assessment was true.
"Zagreus!! Come this instant or I might fetch you by your butt!" the voice yelled.
The young man startled, quickly grabbed his bow and ran toward the source of the call. A quite annoyed face welcomed him at the field's entrance, his mother taping her foot repeatedly and silently growled of anger. Her face and vestments were dirty, and her bright green eyes darted invisible lightning strikes on her son.
" Young man, what were you doing?" she asked. "Didn't you hear me the first time?"
He coughed and scrapped the back of his head with embarrassment. How could he tell that he was too absorbed into a childish solitary game while his mother was working her butt off to pick up current harvest?
"I was... Huh... Too far to hear you, sorry Mother!" he blurted out with the best charming smile he could offer at the time.
She did not fall into the trap tho, and swiftly moved to pick her son by the ear. He hissed a whimp of pain.
"People in the northern village are awaiting some good provisions, spring is finally around and they need to get strength to make their own fields!" she argued.
"Yes... Yes sorry Mother! Well, it's just, you know, nature and all, I can't help it!" he grinned under the pain of his ear being twitched.
His mother sighed and released him. She could not remain angry at her son, never for more than mere minutes. She caressed the painful lobe and smiled with affection. Then she pointed out the carrots field, silently ordering him to take her place.
"Then you shall be punished. Pick up the remaining carrots, and then you will rince them all in the river just there. After that you will water my lavender and roses, and make some crown for the children." she listed.
Her voice was firm, and Zagreus could only concede and start working.
It has been like this for... Centuries, maybe. They're gods, after all. Time flew differently for them ; and much like every year is a cycle of death and life between winter, summer and in between seasons, they are eventually forgotten by townspeople and make acquitance with them again. This way, no mortal would question why those strange merchants would never age after several decades.
Zagreus kneeled on the dirt and started his chore ; much deserved after his mother sore her throat calling him. He couldn't help it ; the sight of the deep forest, the endless fields beneath them, misty mountains far away, it was hard for him to stay still. Every ounce of nature was a playfield. Only on harsh summers he accepted to remain inside his mother's protected domain, because his burning feet would cause terrible fires.
The orange vegetables all picked up, he lifted the now heavy basket and brought it by the river on the opposite side. The water was deadly cold despite the warm sun, the freezing temperature cutting in his flash like knifes. He hold back his complaints, as his mother was just inches away, busy trimming the border trees. He preferred to keep his ears safe, Zagreus was lively and wild, but knew to be wise when it was needed.
When it was done, he merely disposed the carrots on a large piece of cloth on the grass and let them dry, the vegetables gorging themselves with the sun. People would like them for sure. He then took a jar and filled it with water, and gave the flowers their drink.
He liked lavender. Their scent was soothing, and always reminded him the call the wild ; but breath on for too long and the odor would give headache. Much like him, in some way, though the young Zagreus never had been a pain for his mother.
Roses, however, were not his friends. He would always sting his hands with their thorns, his red blood glowing out of the tiny wounds. This time was no exception, and after just after one water pouring on the roses' roots, he scratched his left cheek with one of those damned spines when he stood up.
"Ouch- Damn those things -" he winced.
He wiped his cheek and glanced just for a second at his mother - he didn't want her him to complain. Thankfully she was humming while doing her tree trimming and didn't seem to have heard him.
It was strange that he was able to bleed red, like his mother. They were gods ; weren't gods supposed to have... Something different in their veins ? He never met any other gods actually, maybe some nymphes in the forest but that was pretty much all. They said that gods had no red blood, but golden ichor. He was curious to see that, to confirm that "they-say-thing". But never in his life, Zagreus had met any one except his own mother. And it seemed like, they were sealed off from their sight.
"Not all gods are as nice as you are, my son. Beware of them. Stay away from them." her mother had warned him, long, long ago.
He could only smile in response and lean his jaw in the soft hands cupping his face.
Yes, he was living a wonderful immortal life.
He stretched his growing-sore muscles and sat at a table in the garden to start some of his mother favored occupations ; crown flowers crafting. Children from the near villages would love them. Of course his mother's work was flawless and preferred, his own crowns were often a bit messy or roughly made. Zagreus had not his mother's fine hands ; his were a bit callous from the handy work and his numerous adventures in the wild. The fact that he was clumsy was probably a good factor, too.
Picking, crossing, knitting, he knew the tune perfectly. His mother soon joined him, all too happy to give him a hand with it. Her chuckle when she witnessed his work sounded like melodic ambrosia in his ears. They both spent the remaining of the day chatting and crafting crowns, rings and collars with flowers.
When Helios' chariot left for Nyx's dark purple veil of night, they both stood up and gathered the numerous decorations. The following days, they will visit the surrounding villages to give away the cute present to the children, and sell or trade their supplies to the adults.
"Will you come with me, my son?" she asked.
" Hm... " he hesitated.
As they were gods, they had a few quirks to conceal their godly presence and prevent mortals to burn on the spot, such as spells, an ability to make townspeople forget them with time, and then welcome them like they were new in the neighborhood, and magical items, like Zagreus' shoes.
Zagreus liked to wander among the people, but this meant he had to wear those special shoes she had crafted for him, to conceal his burning feet from mortals' sight. He hated to feel his feet sealed inside leather, his ankles imprisoned by laced braids, his sole resting on a piece of leather that made him sweat all day. He felt like bount to the ground, chained inside vulgar pieces of cloth.
Each time he had to wear them, at the end of the day he would tear them off and run in the forest for an hour to give his toes well deserved freedom.
This always amused his mother.
"I'll go, it's been a while after all." he replied.
"Well then, it's settled!" she announced.
Her smile was a sunbeam, and he joyfully bathed in it.
They departed two days later for Theoderma, a modest port town where people would live off fishing and trades with merchants. As the winter had been rude this year, they welcomed the little family with great enthusiasm and joy. Children gathered around Zagreus, and young people around his apparent age tried to have a talk with him.
Was it some natural charisma or his mother's spell not working correctly on him, but Zagreus would always find himself bathed in people, attracting liking into him, and youngers happy to play with a childish grown up. At least, this eased the annoyance of wearing shoes for the whole day.
"Lady Ione, as always, you are a benefactor for us." the local ruler thanked her. "Those supplies will be great help for us. We saved most of our crops, but sadly the winter lasted longer than usual..."
"Fear not, my friend, Helios' chariot shall bring good harvest. I am here to help if there is the need. It is natural for us." she assured with her usual warm smile.
"Lady Ione... May gods forgive me, but you are like the nicest of goddesses from Olympus, though you have just the chance to live in a place in the mountains bathed in sun." the man smiled.
The woman warmly grinned in return and offered what she had brought ; various vegetables and the basket of flowers accessories. Soon the children left Zagreus' company and rushed to her and organized themselves in a perfectly neat waiting line. How did they manage to be so compliant with his mother, while they acted as wild dogs with him, he had no idea.
"It's been a while, Zagreus, has it been two winters, no, three maybe? You don't seem to ever change." a young man greeted him.
"Oh trust me, mate, take a look at these hands and you'll see I work my ass off in my mother's field!" he joked.
One day, this mortal shall forget him, and meet him again anyway. There was no way to worry about not seeing them often.
"Don't you get bored anyway? I heard you live somewhere in the mountains, it's always sunny there, but I guess it's not much lively with people?"
"Tell us, Zagreus, how do you busy yourself up there?" a girl asked, her face resting on her arms on the fountain's border.
"Haha, well, there's the work in the field, and then, well... I just explore the surroundings. There're forests and lots of places, sometimes I go hunting with my bow too." he explained.
Zagreus then told them some hunting stories when he trailed a boar in the mountains, only to find face to face with a giant bear. The young man hummed absently, probably not believing anything and the girl drank each one of his words like nectar.
He soon was called by his mother to give a hand with their goods ; as a gift they gave them fresh fishes they stored in the snow for the moment. They still had work tho, and helped people prepare their stands on the central place.
The city became more lively as the day passed, people rejoicing to have some supplies to hold on until they could reap their own fields. A good for a good, they say, and the mortals were always thankful to their kindness and generosity, always ignoring their true nature.
"Hm?" Zagreus turned his eyes in a direction.
"Is there something, son?" his mother asked.
"No... Nothing, must be me." he brushed off.
He couldn't really tell for sure, but he had the faint impression he heard a strange sound. Was it low or far away, he thought he had hear the sound of a deep chiming bell.
"I'm exhausted! My, my, it's late, night has fallen!" his mother observed.
Twilight had left place to Nyx's veil, and stars were starting to light up in the deepening sky.
"Let us invite you for the night, please, Lady Ione, young Zagreus. It would be an honor for us to have you as our guests." the chief suggested.
"Hm... I agree, you're right, sir. Zagreus?" she called. "We'll stay here for the night, right?"
Her son simply nodded, busy playing with some children who didn't want to go to bed despite the still cold weather. Campfires were lit around the little city to warm the place up, but it remained hostile for young people.
When the youngsters finally gave in and let themselves be taken away by their parents, Zagreus deeply sighed. Not that he wasn't happy to be invited by people ; but this meant he had to bear with his shoes for one more day.
He managed to negociate a little extension of freedom, and his mother allowed him to walk around the city, where no one would see him.
"I'm sorry my son," she apologized, "I couldn't turn them down. They're nice, and leaving during the night, they could have been suspicious."
"Please, Mother, it's nothing. I can bear with it for one night. Maybe. I think." he smiled.
She chuckled and caressed his cheek with tenderness. She then taped his shoulder and pointed out woods at the city outskirts, where he could make some physical exercise.
" I know you're a strong warrior, but don't be reckless, right? " she asked.
"Sure Mother, you can count on me!"
"Precisely, son." she laughed.
The southern outskirts was a hill with peaceful woods. On the border Zagreus could see a wooden house ; most probably a local woodcutter. Once he had passed it, he could finally get off his damned shoes and have a real, good walk, or run among the trees. There, no one could see him.
Just after a few step, however, he heard it again. A single, deep toll of a bell in the distance. Zagreus perked up and tried to pinpoint where the sound came from.
The toll resonated another time, and he localized it ; it was the single house around the woods. Precisely his direction. He dashed there, curiosity winning over his sense of freedom.
It only took a few second to arrive there. He picked a look through a window, but no one could be seen. Actually, the house seemed abandoned. Windows were dusty, and the inside didn't look any better. Whoever lived there ; if indeed there was any inhabitant, they had to be alone.
The door was unlocked. Zagreus deeply inhaled and entered, trying to be as silent as he could ; this was a prowess itself.
The place was a wreck indeed. There was a single room, with a little table in the center and a single stool, wooden sculptures were laying everywhere, and the water basin seemed to crumble under jars and wooden dishes. The fireplace was dying, red Amber's trying to eat the blackened wood with their remaining heat. The noise of a loud snore startled him, and Zagreus did his best to no cry out of surprise.
It came from a single bed, in a corner, occupied by a very old man. He was sleeping, almost entirely covered by his sheets. Then he remembered him. It had been years indeed ; he didn't see this man in his last visit, three years prior. His house was distant from the city, so a stranger would pay no attention.
But Zagreus remembered this man, this mortal. Taciturn he was, but one day he gave him a nice looking wolf sculpture. No word, no thanks, just a glance had been enough. Feeling guilt to have walked uninvited like this, he decided to make his leave.
Only when he reached the entrance, the bell tolled, this time with force.
In a eerie green flash a man appeared before the old figure. Clad in black garments, floating a few inches above the ground, his head was hidden by a hood. The silhouette was tall, taller than him by a head, but what impressed Zagreus was the gigantic curved scythe the man was carrying.
A God.
A real God had appeared before him. The stranger did not notice his presence ; maybe because of the spell still on him, or merely because he had back presented to Zagreus. Was he a Olympian? Or maybe someone from the world of the Dead? Maybe the second ; he looked so gloomy, there was no chance such a grim face would belong to a place like Olympus.
His thoughts were cut off, however, when he noticed the newcomer had lifted his hand - covered with a gauntlet - and reached the old man face. Whatever was going to happen, Zagreus did not like it. A soft green light emerged from the gauntlet, and he finally got it.
"Hey!"
Startled, the man turned around.
"What the-"
Zagreus dashed and grabbed the dark robes in his hands.
"What's the big idea? What are you doing to this poor man?" he asked in a daring tone.
Whoever this god was, he was not afraid. He too was one, after all ; even though he had no real purpose, he still had godlike traits. His grab tightened and the man fully turned his face. Their eyes met and Zagreus was instantly struck by the stranger's.
Two golden irises, faintly glowing in the dark. His cheekbones were marked like stone sculpture, fine and curt. He had mid-long, silky silver hair, ending up into elegant little curls. His body oozed dignity and majesty, but his face shadowed by the hood made him look awfully gloomy and terrifying.
The man let out an annoyed click of tongue and swiftly released himself from Zagreus' grip, firmly tugging on his robes.
"Can't you tell this man can no longer hold on his life thread? I am here to ease him from pain." he said. "Or maybe you want him to cough up his blood until the end of times?"
"I... Well..."
Zagreus showed a pained look on the sleeping old man. His eyes then widened when the words were processed in his mind.
This was no mere god. Right in front of him was standing embodiment of Death itself, Thanatos. And he just tried to prevent Death to do his duty. He swallowed, waiting for any kind of retribution for his behavior, but Thanatos ignored him.
He had turned back to the sleeping shape, and lifted his gauntlet to cover the eyes. Soft green light emerged from the hand and sucked away this old man's last breath. Zagreus helplessly watched him, holding back his protest. Of course he knew that people died over time, through the centuries he had witnessed the cycle of generations ; aged ones disappearing, littles ones growing up, founding families, and their turn to go to the other world.
But never in godly life before Zagreus had witnessed someone actually dying, someone having their life taken away by Death Incarnate. A feeling of sadness and loneliness rushed into him, watching the lifeless figure.
Thanatos sighed and met Zagreus' face once again.
"Anyway... Who are you?" he asked. "You do not come from Olympus, that I can say. But you're not from the Underworld either. You can see me, so you are a god as well. But what kind are you? What kind of god would wander among mortals and befriend them?"
His voice was cold, curt, much like his scytche in his hand, or the blade sheathed on his hip. Something in his tone sounded... Resentful. Was Thanatos... Despising mortals? He had looked almost gentle a few second earlier.
Zagreus breathed in and stared at the tall figure. Gold irises met green spring ones- another trick from his mother to hide his red and black eye from mortals. No one gave in and they remained as such for a little while.
"I am just an errant god, like my mother." Zagreus eventually spoke up. "We live off from our own farm, somewhere around the villages. You don't need to know more."
"A stray god?" he scoffed, but no smile drew on his stern face. "That is uncommon. I know no god with no purpose. Anyway, this is not my concern."
Thanatos then lifted his scythe, the curved blade meeting Zagreus' chin.
"However, our paths better not cross again. I dare you to try to prevent me to do my duty. Once had been more than enough for me." he threatened.
Zagreus swallowed, but did not back off. Thanatos nodded, and disappeared in a flash of green.
"Young Zagreus, at last, we were getting worried." the chief welcomed when the young god came back from his errand.
After Death's departure, Zagreus had felt a sudden weight lifting from his shoulders ; he had realised then he had been tense for the whole encounter. He was strained. Thus, he had dashed into the woods, racing with fleeing deers across the trees.
Though he was a god, he managed to exhaust himself in the process and came back panting and sweating. But at least, he somehow felt better. He excused himself and joined his mother near the fireplace.
"Woods are dangerous at night, even for a strong young man like you." the chief's wife scolded.
"She is right, Zagreus. I know you're used to do it, but still..." his mother agreed.
"I'm sorry, really. I still had lots of stamina to waste, next time I promise I won't stay away too long!" Zagreus apologized.
The two women melted before his charming smile and couldn't remain upset for long.
Of course his mother was putting an act ; she knew too well there was no risk for him. But for the villagers, they were but mere local farmers living on the mountain. They had to act as such until the moment they came back in their own private domain.
But if they could easily hide their nature from mortals, Zagreus could not escape his mother's sharp eyes. Thus, she asked him some questions when everyone were gone sleeping.
"I rarely see you so exhausted, son. Did something happen?"
He swallowed. He could not bring up he met another god ; especially this one. But he could tell what he had witnessed, in some way.
"I... Well, when I walked to the woods, I saw this tiny house at the border." he started. "I don't know why, but... I wanted to check, kind of felt I had been there before. So... Well, I broke in."
His mother nodded, encouraging him to keep going.
"And, I saw the inside and I recalled ; this was years ago, it was a mortal who gave me that wooden sculpture. The house was in wreck, so... I... Well I tried to check on him... And he was dead."
He felt a bit guilty to blurt out a lie to his own mother, but it was half true ; he managed to use his unease to his advantage. Zagreus, despite his long existence, never saw dead people before. Or at least, he had never witnessed the lifeless body of a mortal he once met.
His mother cupped his face in her hands and embraced him.
"Oh, my son... I'm sorry for this poor man. And I'm sorry you saw that. But sadly, such is Life. It's an endless cycle."
"I know, mother, I know..." he murmured as he enlaced her back.
"Though, young man, you better never do this again. I don't like out an act with such honest people." she scolded, flicking his forehead.
"I shall oblige, O Lady Persephone." he joked in her ears, earning another flick.