Chapter 25
Demeter, goddess of the harvest, agriculture, and fertility, found Eros tied to a cliff with invisible chains. She was one of the oldest of the gods, older sister to Zeus and present during the mighty war with the Titans. Most of Olympus was in awe of her, and she preferred it this way, demanding the utmost respect. She spoke little but was known for favoring the old ways. She did not like the new Olympian Democracy Zeus supported where the gods cast votes on big decisions. She thought it weak and lacked true leadership. Sometimes, the best decisions were not popular.
Demeter was one of the few allowed to speak her mind to Zeus who treated her with great respect. She called Hermes a liar and a thief who should be chained to the bottom of an ocean, one only barely tolerates Apollo. As for Eros, she announced to Aphrodite one evening that she found him undisciplined and reckless, his manner too friendly and informal for a god, and she was not certain he deserved his place in Olympus.
Although Demeter never admitted it, recently she had begun to begrudgingly admire the nascent god’s work, especially in continuing the population of the earth at such a steady and consistent rate. Demeter knew that there was more to raising healthy children than simple procreation. There needed to be an understanding between the parents, joint effort, and at the bare minimum, a mutual respect. Love was a romantic notion, but Demeter did find that couples who were in love in its mature form seemed to raise healthy, strong children. Somehow, Eros did a fairly good job of matching pairs. But Demeter did not believe in excessive praise. As far as she was concerned, spreading love was Eros’s job; he was supposed to excel in it.
Today, however, Demeter had a specific agenda. There was a rumor going about and she wanted clarity. Having the blue-eyed cherub chained to a tower where there was no escape for him was quite convenient.
When Eros looked up at her from his work, Demeter spotted a surprised look that amused her. She kept forgetting that certain gods did not have the All-Seeing Eye and, therefore, could not anticipate her. Why Eros was not allowed it, she was not sure, for certainly his work warranted it.
“Demeter.” His voice was reverent as it should be for she was quite the superior goddess. She was one of the originals, older than Zeus himself.
Demeter did not mince words and did not lower herself to greet him back. “Child of Aphrodite, I have come to get some answers. I hear such opposing viewpoints that I decided to come to the only person who could tell me the truth.”
Eros could not run from her, she knew, so reading his mind should have been easy, but he had managed to keep it blank, a trick that few gods could master. To her dismay, Eros began to think about how beautiful the sky was today and how much he missed his wife. Demeter sighed, knowing that the only way to find out what she wanted to know was to ask him outright.
“There are rumors going about that you are partially responsible for the taking of my Persephone. That you had actually struck Hades with one of your arrows while he was gazing upon her.”
Eros swallowed, and she saw him considering his options.He is going to lie to me, she thought. But a look in his mind offered her no information.
Persephone had been Demeter’s favorite daughter, the most talented of all her children. She had chosen Persephone to co-rule the earth. But Persephone had been taken, forced to live in the Underworld for half a year. When Persephone and Demeter were together, they filled the world with fruitfulness and bounty. But after every Closing of the Harvest Ceremony, Persephone would return to the Underworld to be with Hades. In retaliation, Demeter refused to make anything grow.
Demeter’s most recent separation from her daughter was only a few weeks ago. The goddess of grain was not in the best of states. The fresh grief in Demeter’s eyes made them look like torches in the rain. Recently, Demeter had overheard Dionysus, the wine god, suggest to an audience in a ballad that Eros was to blame for Hades’s obsession with her daughter. The idea that Persephone may have been taken because of Eros was a shock. Demeter did not think such a puny god could affect a being like Hades. She couldn’t believe it. But she needed to hear the boy say it.
“Well, what say you?” Demeter demanded, her eyes trying to dig the truth from his mind. “Did you strike Hades with an arrow and cause him to take my daughter?”
Demeter could see the conflict in the young god’s eyes. He is going to tell me what I want to hear. Demeter thought with certainty. He would be a fool not to. If Eros denied any part, Demeter could not punish him. She would have no proof and therefore, no reason.
Eros opened his mouth. “I... did. Forgive me, Great Demeter. I was only trying to help. I did not think it would work. I was like you, certain that someone as strong and as... well, opposed to love as Hades was, would be immune to my arrows. But Hades wasn’t. He fell in love with your daughter because I struck him. I thought I was helping her.”
Demeter was silent for a while gazing at the celestial eyes that had caused her so much grief. She scanned his mind, but all she could see was remorse and compassion... and then something that made her eyes narrow.
Pride. She saw pride in his heart. Eros was proud of his work. Proud of the pain he caused.
Her voice was dangerously low. “Do you realize what you have done?”
“I understand your pain—”
“My pain?” A storm cloud trembled behind her, reflecting the rage that was blackening her eyes. “You think you understand my pain? Do you have a daughter that you raised her entire life, healed every scratch, taught her everything you know, protected her from all harm, only to have her snatched away from you by that God of Rot and Slime! To play slave to that horrible monster? Have you?”
“Demeter—”
“Have you?”
Eros stopped and simply bowed his head. Chained as he was to the rock, there was no escaping her withering stare. This was, perhaps, the worst of Zeus’s punishment. To bear Demeter’s words crushed his spirit and any pride he might have in his work.
“I’m sorry,” Eros choked.
Demeter’s nostrils flared. “No. No, you aren’t. You think you did the right thing. You think... she’s happy.”
Eros trembled. Demeter’s eyes were coals in the night, reminding him of the stories of the ancient and evil Titans that ruled the world when she was born. “I don’t know. I know that Hades has never been happier. But there are some who say—”
Demeter straightened but Eros did not stop the words he knew would hurt her. He needed to say them. He needed to defend himself against anyone else who might be listening, and in Olympus, nothing was secret, especially a conversation that was shaking the seas themselves, causing the clouds to block out the sun, seemingly forever. Demeter was in a fury and all of nature was being affected by it.
“Don’t you dare say it!” she warned between her teeth.
Eros clenched his fist. He did not know where his courage was coming from. A god like him should be cowering before such a mighty deity. He should be on his knees begging for her forgiveness and therefore her mercy. But he could not. His voice rang loud, firm but calm. “There are some who say that Persephone chose to eat those pomegranate seeds. She did so knowingly. That Persephone, even though I never touched her with an arrow, wanted to remain with Hades. That she loves him back.”
“How dare you! How dare you utter such blasphemous lies!”
Eros tried to reason with her. “Even daughters need freedom from their mothers sometimes.” He thought of Psyche and her overbearing parent. Perhaps, the woman did have her daughter’s best interest in mind but in the end, she only caused more unhappiness. “There is no shame in this. And Hades is a good man. A man of honor. He would never hurt her.”
“He is the King of Tartarus!”
“And what is the point of life without him? Persephone has a greater understanding of her duties as the bringer of life and growth and harvest now that she is also his mistress, his goddess, his wife. And, perhaps, Hades will do better work with her as his advisor, friend, and pa
rtner. Just as I will have a greater understanding of love now that I have tasted it with my own mouth, held it in my arms. And I have lost it as well. I do not know your particular loss, Madame, but I understand loss. I am sorry for the pain I cause, but I am not sorry for that union. In the end, it was the better choice. It was not an easy choice, but that is what makes us gods.”
Tornadoes were forming behind Demeter, whipping debris around them. “Hah!” she screamed, her voice overpowering the howling wind. “It is what makes you a fly on a swine’s neck!” A cyclone was brewing behind the enraged goddess and she did not even seem to notice. The oceans crashed beneath them and Poseidon looked up nervously. “You may not know my suffering, young Eros because you were not given the All-Seeing Eye. But I will make sure you will.”
Demeter grasped Eros’s shoulder and closed the gap between them until her eyes were only a few inches away, burning into his mind. She spoke the words that dug a hole so deep, Eros did not think he could ever recover. Her voice was as soft as snake’s hiss. “A seed grows inside the love you have given up so much for. A seed that may one day blossom into a daughter not unlike mine. Beautiful, intelligent, and full of joy. You think you know loss? You know nothing. When Psyche dies, your unborn child will die with her.”
Suddenly, in the glowing amber of Demeter’s eyes, Eros could see the little girl, no older than three laughing up at him and reaching out with her cherubic arms. She had Psyche’s green eyes and dark hair with streaks of gold. Her happy smile melted his heart. Suddenly, she was gone and Eros felt as if a thousand swords impaled him.
“You lie,” he managed to choke.
“That could have been your future,” Demeter continued relentlessly. “But no more. And when Aphrodite punishes your precious Psyche, that child will die with her. And with it, all your joy, as you would have named her. Joy for all the happiness she would have brought you. Joy, the daughter you will never see. Then, you can look me in the eye and tell me you know pain.”
“Stop!”
Demeter was already leaving him and he lunged towards her only to have the invisible chains snatch him back. He tried again, screaming in agony, tearing at the sky. “No! Get me out of here!” All he could see was Demeter’s glowing eyes piercing back at him, getting smaller and smaller the further she went.
Eros’s cries shook Olympus, the storm raging around him, a soft hum compared to his cries for freedom. Athena could not look at her shield. Apollo lowered his armband. Ares paused in his swordplay. But one did not need the All-Seeing Eye to hear the torment. Eros’s cries were the sound of pure despair, unheard of from the mouth of an immortal, curdling the blood of all who could hear.
Hermes looked up from the cup of wine he held, having watched the entire conversation between Eros and Demeter. Hermes set the cup down with a thud. There would be no more drinking tonight or any night for a while. He knew there would be no peace until that boy was freed.
Eros was not without fault, Hermes knew. The boy deserved many thrashings for some of the mischief he had played throughout Olympus and the world. But the usually placid god of love, Hermes’s smiling, youthful friend did not deserve this.
With eyes unrecognizable in its solemn determination, Hermes raced out of the alehouse. He did not know what he was going to do, but Hermes knew he could stay neutral no more.
Acknowledgement
Starting a project is a little like dreaming. Finishing is more like living. I’d like to thank the wonderful people in my life who encouraged me even during my darkest days writing this book. As much as I enjoyed the process, it was also hard to say good-bye to a beloved character. I’d like to thank my father, the inspiration of Paulo Halsted, who instilled a love for learning in all of his four children and who’s passing is still felt each and every day.
If you enjoyed this book, please write a review. If you want to know more about upcoming projects, join my contact list at www.jendelatryst.com. I’m also available on Facebook and Twitter @JendelaTryst. I love hearing from my readers. Story telling is my passion and writing is my life long dream. Thank you for reading.
Rupture
Origin of Love Book 3
Fallen Immortals Saga
Excerpt
♦
Jendela Tryst
Chapter 1
Lucius, the horse trader, leaned forward to take a sip of water from the recently melted river that snaked through the thawing woods of Bromeia. It was an uncommonly warm winter day, causing rhythmic drops of melting icicles to fall on the still frosted pines. The warm day brought hope to Lucius’s heart. He hoped to have his new villa ready for his bride before the summer season. That is, if Claudia agreed to marry him.
As always, thoughts of his future wife made Lucius’s heart hammer with excitement. The young horse trader had donned his most elaborate gray tunic with silver studs after preparing what he hoped was an elegant speech. He was going to ask Claudia, the daughter of an old friend, the late Paul Halsted, to marry him. Love had snuck up on young Lucius like a morning mist. He did not know why he had been so blind to Claudia’s allure before. Lucius used to think Claudia, the middle daughter, inferior in both looks and intellect to Halsted’s two other lovely offspring. However, after watching Claudia handle the loss of both her youngest sister, Psyche, and then her beloved father with such grace and poise, Lucius realized that there could be no better mistress for his heart and his villa.
Trying to calm his anxiety, Lucius dabbed some of the frigid river water on his face and neck, shivering slightly at the shocking but invigorating cold. He took another sip, then dried his hands on his tunic and waited for his stout and reliable horse, Ceres, to finish drinking.
Lucius heard a twig snap in front of him. Startled, he looked around and spied a dark figure by the trees on the other side of the river, watching him. Lucius straightened. It was not uncommon to see other fellow travelers in these parts so he didn’t know why he felt so alarmed. Perhaps it was the way the strange figure stood so still, half in the shadows.
“Good day, sir,” Lucius called out in a friendly tone. Most people in Bromeia knew him and were friendly.
The dark figure did not respond. He continued to stand staring at Lucius.
Lucius reached for his short sword. Robberies did happen on occasion. It would be terrible to be set upon today, but he had to admit, he was rather conspicuous, dressed as he was in his finest. Claudia and her mother always seemed to have an affinity for well-dressed men.
The horse trader looked around, searching for others who may be hiding in the brush. So far, the only person he saw was the dark figure. It would at least be a fair fight, almost too fair. It was unwise for a robber to take such a risk, especially now that he lost the element of surprise.
At last, the mysterious figure stepped away from the trees and into the light. Lucius could see that the man was a hunter and not a vagrant. He was tall, his step languid and his eyes shaded by his hood. The horse at Lucius’s side, however, was not relieved, but whinnied, taking a few steps back. Lucius soothed it.
“Good day, Master Lucius,” the man called from across the river.
Lucius did not relax at the sound of his name. His horse rarely acted like this. “Do I know you?” Lucius asked, still struggling to tame Ceres.
“You know of me, but I do not believe we’ve ever been formally introduced. I am Hermes, messenger god, and I am here to tell you something of great importance.”
Lucius stopped and stared that the figure. He immediately took his hand off his short sword, then threw his head back and laughed. “Hermes! Hah! Oh goodness!” After a moment, he gathered his composure. “Did Marcus set you up to this? He is a terrible jester. I suppose he’s hiding in the bushes somewhere. What an--”
“Silence!”
Before Lucius could respond, the man flew impatiently from the other side of the river, his skin flickering and the wings on his heels barely flickering with speed. The horse trader stumbled to the ground in shock and bega
n crawling back towards the trees.
“Calm down,” Hermes assured him. “I haven’t time for formal introductions. I need you to take care of something immediately.”
“B-but you’re… Th-this can’t be happening!”
“Lucius,” the hooded man leaned in, his face brimming with savage frustration. “Are you a man of faith or aren’t you?”
Lucius could not keep the fear from his voice. “Of course! You can ask anyone in Bromeia. I am always defending the gods. I-I have always believed--.”
“Good,” Hermes interrupted. “Then you will be able to obey me without question. There is a woman trapped in the Temple of Aphrodite. She is of great importance to Olympus. You must help her.”
Lucius nodded before he could even process what was being said.
Hermes reached out and shook him. “Do you hear what I am saying? Go to the Temple of Aphrodite and help the woman who is praying inside it.”
“Help the woman. Yes, of course. Inside Aphrodite’s temple. B-but why? Who is she?”
“There is no time to explain. Will you do it?” Hermes snapped.
“O-of course! But, I don’t even know how.”
“The town listens to you. Convince others to help her, and it will be done.” Hermes made to leave, but Lucius stopped him.
“Wait! I think you over estimate my influence. I’m just Lucius, the horse trader. Perhaps you’ve mistaken me for someone else, someone of great power. I don’t usually dress like this!”
Hermes turned and looked at the desperate young face, not needing to read his mind to feel his fear. “You question my knowledge of you? You are Lucius, also known as Lucius the Pious, not only the finest horse trader on this side of Greece, but a devout believer and champion of the gods. Your loyalty has not gone unnoticed. You are about to get engaged to Claudia Halsted of Seventh Hill and you will be exceedingly happy with her. Five children, four boys and a girl. But first, you must rescue your bride’s sister from certain death. The future depends on it. Your future depends on it. Can I count on you, Lucius?”
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