Author Topic: A Daughter's Adoration  (Read 5754 times)


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A Daughter's Adoration
« on: March 13, 2020, 05:03:31 am »
Beyond the River Styx.

The Eve of Spring.

“My queen, why are you doing this?”

The Underworld was not what most thought it was. In fact, in many ways, in mimicked the mortal world, the living. The dead, at least, those deserving, could find themselves among the creature comforts of home, eternal sunshine, and peace. Of course, if you didn’t deserve it, your fate would be much, much harsher.

There was a hell of a bureaucracy to even get there. Sure, Hades and Persephone ran the joint, but then there was Thanatos, the actual bringer of gentle, eternal sleep. His powers were primordial: A combination of the Night and the Shadows, coming upon you like a star-dusted dream. His touch was not feared. In fact, by most, it was welcomed. The best Death anybody could ever want for themselves or loved ones. One without suffering or pain.

There were other immortals for that.

The Algea. Children of Chaos Herself. Bringers of pain to both the body and the mind.

And the Nosoi, released by Pandora herself. They were disease and plague. But they could not act alone. For that, they needed help. Help beyond the Great Rivers and into the Sky. It was by only the arrows of the Twins borne of Zeus that they could ride into the humours of mortals to remind them of the dangers of their hubris.

It was the Nosoi that knelt before the ebony throne of She Who Destroys the Light, as the Queen gazed off into the distance. Toward a small, inkling of light piercing the horizon as Helios’s chariot made its approach.

“My Queen,” they begged again, averting their gaze. The Algea remained in the shadows, knowing their time would soon come after, “Why? Why now? You’re to return to Olympus soon, to end the gaunt days! We will ever abide by your wishes, but, we must know. What you desire is stonehearted. My Queen, please, tell us, why do you wish to befall pestilence upon the children of man?”

Persephone’s eyes turned back toward the collective of daemons. Green eyes, ever always the color of a fruitful, warm, summer’s day, but shrouded in skin of alabaster and black hair that glistened as the finest byssus when the light shone upon it. Her diadem was cut of pure obsidian, thrown from the forge of Hephaestus, and set with rubies in the shape of her beloved pomegranate seeds. She was terrifying in her divine beauty.

“Because.” Her voice was half past a whisper, “They pissed off my mother.”

[Nanonovel brought to you by a sleepless night and a useless classics degree.]
Sovereign Episkopos-Princess Kaousuu; Esq., Battle Nun, Bene Gesserit.
Our Lady of Perpetual Confusion; 1st Church of Discordia

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