Divus Amare

Preface

‘Once upon a time’ is no doubt the phrase you expect of me, however this is no tale of fancy nor can it be considered a ‘Fairy Tale’ as the story. Nay the Epic I am about to tell you is one that is very real and not suitable for younglings.

This is a tale which has been recounted numerous times in recent history, and as I sit here in the library of Eternia of Heliopolis. I cannot help but look at the flickering candle and remember those days. The days when Zeus once commanded respect; once ruled the western realms, once let his thunderous, birthright be known to all in sundry, a time when he once lorded over his fellow Olympian without any of them, questioning his authority.

That was mere millennia after the fall of his cannibalistic father, Kronos who has been sealed away into Tartarus the deepest pits of Nifleheim, or as many call it now; the Underworld, a tale perhaps for another time.

Let me ask you, a deeply philosophical question, how would you judge a hero, or a king; by his ‘power’, his ‘deeds’ or perhaps his heart?

Ah it seems that even when I am writing I have the ability to babble and drift off-topic rather quickly, a sign perhaps, of my age. So let me just say that the story will be beginning soon, but I must first wonder how to start it. As we all know the beginning of a story is perhaps the most important part to it.

This story probably should start when Hades first courted his would be consort and queen Persephone (or Kore as she was called in her youth) or at the birth of their children.

However, I have neither the time nor the inclination to merge two separate epics into one. Check the fourth volume of the series titled; Divus Matrimonium. If you truly wish to read, about how Hades courted Persephone, how their marriage life came to be and how they became parents.

This tale will start shortly after the birth of the twin children of Hades, these children who would play a critical role in the fate of the cosmos, who would be separated shortly after their birth. A mere two centuries in fact, as you well know deities age to the point that two centuries are as a mere month or two.

Yet tragedy would follow in their wake everywhere they went, not a day would go by that Asta, the daughter of Hades and Persephone, would not suffer at the hands of Fate. Despite it all she would carve her story in history as one of the greatest of all tales ever told.

Now then it is time for this tale to start and where better for me to start than at the beginning of my tale...

God of Knowledge and head of the archives of the gods, Djehuty

Library of Eternia (Sökkvabekkr), Heliopolis

*****

Part I

Prologue

Eos raised herself to signal the dawn of a new day, Ra’s flames sent warmth throughout Midgard; the light of Amaterasu rising ever so slowly to provide light for all the creatures of the land while Helios drove his slow chariot holding the sun goddess, protectively, in its daily upward manner that would have him drop and move downwards as the day progressed.

The light of the Sun Goddess bounced off of the river and unto the trees of the jungle as the spirit or Nymph of the river called Naida chased after the young child Goddess Asta who giggled and danced about slipping from the shadows of one tree to the next shadow without difficulty or so it seemed to Naida.

At six centuries old, Asta had to be the most cheerful goddess Naida had ever met especially given the nature of her parents, Hades and his queen Persephone; rulers of the western parts of the Underworld. Neither of whom Naida had (thankfully) ever met. The only things that seemed to speak of the girl’s resemblance to her parents was her physical appearance, with dark eyes, long dark locks of hair that she had probably gotten from her father and skeletal white skin.

And her growing power as every time someone managed to adapt to her current levels, Asta would go and do something that revealed she was far more powerful than the day before.

‘The power of this young godling is steadily growing day by day, today she’s dancing and moving from one shadow to the next, tomorrow shape shifting,’ Naida thought as she failed to catch the young godling with her outstretched arms, Asta it seemed had also grown perhaps a bit too good at running away from her friend.

The Nymph huffily threw her long green hair over her shoulder with a dainty hand and jumped into a puddle only to appear in front of Asta who had been looking over her shoulder for the water spirit. Having not been paying attention to where she was going. The young girl crashed into the Nymph who reacted on instinct by becoming liquid, causing Asta to fall through her only for Naida to return to her solid form seconds later.

This was luckily only possible to Naida being a Nereid, a Nymph that is the spirit of a lake or pond which the young girl owed to being the children or grandchildren of the legendary Titan Pontus (the personification of the ocean and all waters circulating Midgard the mortal realm). Naida knew her connection to the waters from which she was born were beyond Asta’s understanding even though she was her best friend, the girl was after-all too young to understand much.

It truly was a pity that someone so powerful could be so inexperienced with the world, or so Naida thought. Her analysis of her friend came to an end when she took in how ridiculous the long-haired girl in front of her looked with said hair in her face and mouth and how ridiculous it was to imagine the daughter of Hades and Persephone all wet with her hair in her face.

Naida burst out laughing after Asta’s long dark untamed hair fell in front of her face blocking her dark eyes that were throwing lightning bolts at the river guardian furious at her for laughing at her.

It’s not funny Naida! Asta whined grabbing her hair with her hands and wringing said hair with her scowl growing as the Nymph fell to the ground clutching her stomach failing completely at holding in her mirth.

Yes it is mi’lady! Naida replied still giggling uncontrollably, Besides you were the one who said I couldn’t catch you.

But you didn’t catch me! the young godling retorted smugly still cleaning her hair. Also you weren’t supposed to use your Nereid powers!

Asta knew as well as Naida that Nymphs could be divided into several ‘races’ of Nymphs and that Naida was a river Nymph. Though not immortal Nymphs were long-lived enough, that centuries were as nothing to them (millennia are a completely different matter, though). Even though she was bordering on her five hundredth year, Naida didn’t seem overly concerned with acting her age a fact reinforced by her next actions.

That maybe so, young princess... Naida agreed only to pounce on the child and to start tickling her, ...But now I have caught you!

No! Stop! Stop! Asta ordered, kicking about as her playmate’s feathery fingers tickled her mercilessly showing no signs of stopping in the near future.

Not until you admit it... the Nymph threatened as she caused more laughter to bubble forth from the girl’s lips.

Alright! You win, you caught me! Asta caved in, relieved when Naida stopped tickling, allowing her to catch her breath. However a sudden gust of wind put a hold on her relief.

"ASTA!" the wind blew their hair out of place and the force of the blast sent Naida flying off her knees from where she had been tickling the goddess.

Crashing into the tree behind her sent pain flying up her back, but what really made the pain worse was having Asta fly head first into her gut. Gasping in pain with tears of agony in her eyes as she fell from the top of the tree and onto her rump, the girl in her arms clutched at her in terror of what they both knew was coming.

Almost simultaneously the named girl and her caretaker glanced at one another in alarm before saying at once almost comical in the terror that united them at that moment in time in such a way that nobody else could ever or would ever understand.

Uh-Oh... They both knew at that moment their speaking was a mistake as they both existed as extensions of the hearth which fell under the control of Asta’s aunt, Hestia. Goddess of the hearth, of womanly arts and of all things female, hence the pair who’s every conversation could be monitored no matter where they hid since they essentially are female, so long as the goddess was focusing on finding them.

Within seconds as the two had predicted a tall, short blonde braided haired woman wearing a long conservative dress that attempted (abysmally so) to hide the older woman’s beauty. It also failed to hide the aura of anger that surrounded her, her rage was a terrifying thing as her eyes flashed and her bared lips combined with her high-cheeked bones made her look like a over-grown hawk a rather frightening combination given the situation the girls were in.

Well? She growled out furiously, her two wards rushed forward to explain their actions to her yet all they managed to do is annoy her as their voices seemed to blur into one loud and grating voice.

Lady Hestia please; Naida began her eyes begging for mercy that she knew she probably wouldn’t receive from her mistress.

Aunty we had no intention to displease- Asta interrupted the Nymph only to be interrupted in turn by the wrathful matron of the hearth.

Naida, Asta what did I say about coming out during the day? Hestia demanded her voice a frightening hiss that dared the girls to speak again, a dare they took at their own peril.

Um well my lady, I was just- the Nymph started again after a false start, her fear almost over-powering her, lucky for her she was interrupted by the girl who until then had been sitting in her arms and lap only then gathering her own courage by climbing to her feet and stand before the matron semi-defiantly.

Don’t blame Naida, Hestia I asked her to come, play with me. She rushed out looking up at her aunt earnestly.

If Naiad hadn’t already been on her rump she would have fallen down out of the sheer relief at knowing that Asta would protect her from her monster of an aunt.

Step aside Asta, Hestia ordered before she continued her tirade against the petrified Nymph, You know what’s at stake, Naida so why did you do this? I thought she might like to see sunlight for once as we shield her from seeing daylight obsessively as though she were our prisoner rather than our ward, Naida explained weakly, knowing that she was in for it the moment she saw the look in her mistress’s eyes.

See some SUNLIGHT!? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED!? Hestia shrieked her voice stronger than any gust of wind should be, as the dark leather clothes of both Nymph and godling alike picked up flapping here and there as though there was a tornado and flames winked into existence in her hands.

Yes, Mistress... Naida whimpered covering her face, tears in her eyes as she prayed to her grandfather Pontus or any god or goddess who might be listening for that matter for help.

Asta looked at her aunt pleadingly, hoping to pacify her fearsome tigress of a foster-mother whom seemed intent on ripping Naida apart.

What very few knew, but that Naida was privy to was that the only way to calm Hestia down like with any angered parent. Who cherished their children was to have said children (or in this case singular child) look up at them with pleading eyes.

Then get yours and your ‘friend’s pretty little cyan haired behind to the house or so help me you will be making a permanent visit to Asta’s father. Hestia ordered her face falling as her niece’s influence washed over her.

But her next words possessed a threat so mighty that it promised that Naida so much as thought to ever do something like this again, not even Asta’s pleas would be able to stop her from punishing the foolish Nereid. Am I clear?

Crystal. Naida responded solemnly, looking more than a little relieved for having gotten off with only a mere threat.

Hestia gave her one last warning look before pointing in the direction of their home, her message was clear; they were to go back immediately.

Not being one to look a gift-horse in the mouth Asta fell into step beside her playmate and her foster-mother and remained silent not wishing to bring down Hestia’s fury upon them again.

Sorry Naida. Asta whispered to her friend while Hestia followed them to make sure that they followed her orders to the silent letter.

It’s alright... everything comes full-circle, so I couldn’t really avoid my fate anyways... Naida with a smile that she knew the dark-haired girl would take to mean that her apology was accepted.

Naida couldn’t care less what Asta thought then as she was certain of at least one thing; Her private dislike of Hestia and her obsessively over-protective ways would push her to want to spoil Asta another day.

Asta; Hestia growled teleporting to stand in front of them sounding as though she still hadn’t forgiven them. The dirty look she sent them solidified that argument.

The named girl gulped, from what Naida could see afraid to approach her furious guardian. Not that Naida could blame her as she would rather face off against the cruellest of demons than face Hestia’s wrath. With these observations made, the girl was surprised when Asta spoke up, her voice sounding weak to Naida’s ears.

Yes aunty?

In the future you will never leave the house without my permission, also when you go out during the night you will insure that either Ariam or myself are present. Hestia ordered with a glance at her ward out of the corner of her eyes.

However her eyes met those of Asta’s puppy-dog ones and her will seemed to almost crumble at that moment as Naida knew it would in the face of such a ‘dangerous’ weapon.

Yes aunty. Asta bobbed her head obediently a tentative smile on her young face, Then would it be alright if Ariam, Naida and I came out to play tonight?

Well... Hestia answered uncertainly only for her niece to pounce on the opportunity like a cheetah on a gazelle.

Pleeeaaassse? she begged, appearing in front of her aunt via a shadow, Hestia’s eyes widened at this brief show of power that the girl had not been able to do before.

Fine!; Hestia said, her mind still focused on figuring out the girl’s new found abilities of rather than the girl’s plea.

Asta in turn did not question her good fortune and dashed off leading the way to their home, giggling and dancing from shadow to shadow completely in love with the world around her.

She’s a beautiful child mistress... Naida said hesitantly yet sincerely, her previous fear seeming to evaporate under the heat of the sun.

That she is, she maybe my brother and Persephone’s daughter but her and her brother’s spirits are the most unique spirits in all of existence. Hestia complimented her eyes following the happy child affectionately, I love her as though she were my own.

*****

The home of Hestia was small and made of wood enchanted to hide everything within from the outside world; or so Asta had been told. If the wood was enchanted than the magic did not seem to want to extend itself to the contents of the building.

Though clean and attractive, everything within was built of cheap materials such as clay, wood and other basic materials. The only items inside that were attractive were the silk dresses, the fine jewellery and the ingredients to various delicacies.

The dining hall though usually the most used room simply had a few dozen pantries lining one wall; food was stored in a closet which had the house shrine next to it. This shrine distinguished itself only with the large black gem that rested on it; the only unique thing to the gem was that it was attached to a necklace while a long table stood in the center of the room with five chairs of various kinds of wood lined it.

The women inside the building like the elegantly carved chairs lining the table were of assorted looks, while Naida was young, attractive and cyan eyed/haired (her reasons for being there was because of her parents abandoning her as a child only for Hestia to have found her).

The rigidly strict Ariam was a Nymph of the forest with muddy brown hair, attractive looks and a pair of eyes that seemed to be permanently icy. Her reasons for serving Hestia was a mystery that Asta had failed to solve (not for lack of trying though).

Akaya was the only human of the group and when she had first been introduced to the child, she had had long orange hair and bright blue eyes, however with time her features had wrinkled only for her to become decrepit in appearance (yet another mystery Asta had been unable to solve as she had no knowledge or concept of age or death) and her hair had also first greyed and had recently started thinning. Out of all the women who lived with Hestia, Akaya was the most indulgent of the three handmaidens as she tended to give Asta various sweets that amazed the girl with both their spiciness and their tastes. Akaya’s reason for her presence was because as a young woman she had become a widow, when Asta asked what that was she was met with a sorrowful silence that swiftly destroyed her curiosity with its awkwardness.

The first to arrive home was Asta who ran straight to Akaya for a hug that left no doubt to the bond between the two females, moments later Hestia and Naida arrived.

Ariam looking upon Asta and Ariam’s little reunion scene seemed more concerned with why their ward had been out during the day.

What was she doing out during the day? she demanded stoically her eyes flashing from Asta whom was being served lunch by the gentle Akaya and Naida. Who was also in the act of trying to make her self seem smaller than what she really was.

Naida took her out wanting to let had some ‘fun’. Hestia retorted, her eyes looking at her niece’s indulgence with uncomprehending eyes, for she had never understood why the girl enjoyed eating seeing as they were goddesses and the divine do not need sustenance to live the only purpose for the food was to keep them strong thus they could go months almost a full year without food.

Don’t need to keep bringing it back up. Naida sulked as she kicked out a chair gracefully so she could sit in it.

Ariam opened her mouth to reprimand the Nereid harshly, but she was intercepted by Hestia who spoke swiftly.

Quiet, the both of you will sneak off to see if Prometheus or Tyr knows what the situation is and- Hestia orders were cut off by the dimming of the sun and the gathering of dark clouds that began pouring out rain upon the land, seconds later thunder boomed signalling the approach of the women’s worst nightmares and fears.

Asta looked up uncertainly her meal forgotten, not consciously aware as to the reason of the dark mood inside the room yet sensing that something was amiss both at her aunt’s tone and at the mention of the two names. For the names of Prometheus and Tyr were almost never uttered, even when someone was telling Asta stories, or when the latter would drop by for his visits every few days. The reasons for these visits were a mystery that Asta had accepted but had never questioned as it was simply a fact of life that came with living with Hestia.

What should we do Mistress? He knows where we are! Naida squealed gazing thanks to the window in the dining hall at the darkening clouds that seemed to be approaching at an alarming speed.

The other two servants looked to the head of the household for guidance, Hestia however seemed unsure of what to do herself. This status quo went on for several moments before Hestia seemed to remember her position as matriarch and regained her self-control; the matron of the hearth revised her previous orders. Her servants having lost what few doubts they might have had of her in the face of her regained determination.

Naida use, the water realm of Aegir to escape, find Bifröst, from there go to either Asgard or Takamagahara to find Amaterasu or Odin and beg one of them for aid. Hestia looked from the shrine in the back of the dining hall to her niece her mind working rapidly.

Yes Mistress! Naida said as she swallowed fearfully, her voice sounding stronger than what she appeared to be.

Akaya, Ariam get the pendant and the gag ready. Hestia ordered briskly as Naida departed through a puddle on the floor from the bucket of water she spilled purposely, the bucket being there for this exact kind of situation.

What’s going on Aunty? Asta asked frightened, her caretakers in turn grabbing the gag and the pendant from the shrine hurriedly.

Asta... you must promise not to look no matter what... Hestia said desperately as she bent down so that she was at eye level with the girl.

Sure. Asta agreed, thrown off by the intent look in the elder Deity’s eyes although her curiosity got the better of her after Akaya put the pendant over her head. What’s this for?

You know daddy’s big helmet that hides him? Hestia questioned only to continue after her niece nodded energetically, Well on it there are these rocks that can do the same thing because the maker made them of the same materials as the helmet itself.

Is there one for you aunty?Asta rushed out hopefully her expression so expectant that for a moment Hestia looked as though she would grant the girl’s request but knew that intellectually she couldn’t.

No I’ll be... I’ll be fine dear. The older goddess replied a lump of fear and sadness in her throat.

Then I’m not going. Asta said firmly her gaze determined as was her youthful heart.

Ariam the forest Nymph pulled out a gag that was a bright shiny silver colour, her expression neutral as though she wished to banish all of her emotions. This’ll silence her for sure as it was specially made by Dvalin the Great, so there’s no way she could ever tear or overpower it.

What about you!? the girl repeated herself, as her aunt took the gag and tried to with some difficulty to put the gag on her niece, Asta however was intent on not listening and on staying by Hestia’s side. The result: They struggled for a few moments in which Asta cried out for Hestia to listen to her, all the while the matron of the hearth remained stonily silent until losing patience she pinned Asta to the ground with her other arm and had Ariam force the gag into the girl’s mouth.

Everyone has their Fate Asta, remember that. Hestia stated catching her breath that had been held during her little confrontation with the child, then she chanted in a soft voice words that seemed to be a mystery to Asta and she became invisible.

The women took the resisting goddess and forced her into a pantry and closed it shut, only for Hestia to chant yet again some strange words.

There, now that the door is sealed against her, you two should escape while you still can... Hestia’s voice said to her two compatriots in ‘crime’.

Asta furious at having been put in the tight, enclosed space slammed herself against the pantry door with no success, the pantry door did not so much as budge an inch, slumping with her head near the door and her feet touching the pantry wall opposite the opening she planted her right ear against the door to hear what was happening outside. And her rage at her situation increased, even more so because of the fact that she needed to see the shadow to traverse through it to enter and exit it, but with the pantry door closed she could not escape. Still the sound of thunder from outside the building penetrated the house.

But: what about you Mistress? Akaya’s voice asked distress apparent from her tone.

Asta clawed and bit at the gag in her mouth but for all her valiant efforts all she would succeed in doing would be to cut at her lips and the skin around it, blood starting to colour her nails as well as her flesh. Tears of pain and fear nearly fell from her eyes but Asta reminded herself that Hestia and her daddy didn’t cry so she wouldn’t either. The boom of the storm outside the house became louder.

The time for such talk has come and gone, we followed you in life after you saved us now we follow you in death... Ariam vowed loyally, her usually expressionless voice now filled with passion.

The sounds of thunder which had been omnipresent throughout all this time grew louder and louder until finally it came to a stop but before Asta could so much as sag in relief a chance in the over-all air occurred.

All at once it seemed to Asta as though shadows overcame the pantry, it seemed as though something that wasn’t supposed to be there had just arrived. Whoever had just arrived seemed in Asta’s opinion to inhale air and all things good and exhale nothing but evil.

Where is it? a deep male baritone asked an edge in his voice, his words and tone penetrating the pantry door so powerfully that Asta froze in terror.

Whoever do you speak of? Hestia shot back, her own tone filled with adrenaline, hearing the strong voice of the woman she idolised gave Asta strength enough to swallow the fear that had overcome her and she renewed her attempts to scratch at the pantry door.

Must we play these games? I am looking for the child of Hades. The male voice questioned in a mild tone so mild it was almost conversational, moments later the sound of the table being thrown and breaking in half cut through the room.

We know not of what you speak of oh wise one for we are but simple wo- Akaya’s gentle voice pleaded, her voice’s weakness sending chills up Asta’s already uncomfortable spine.

A quick flash of thunder lighted the pantry and deafened Asta’s ears as it interrupted the elderly servant’s begging, the scream that followed the attack paralysed the girl.

But what truly petrified her and haunt her for the rest of her life would be the male laughter that filled the room and pantry. His laughter or so it seemed to Asta, was that of all that was wrong in the world, all that was evil in the nine worlds of existence.

AKAYA; Ariam’s voice shrieked, grief colouring her voice.

Come now, she was only human and a hideous one at that so it doesn’t matter. The man commented his confusion evident for all to hear.

LEAVE! Hestia ordered shrilly.

No. Instead I think I’ll make myself at home and search the pantries as there’s been a scratching noise that’s bothered me for some time. Asta gasped in terror pressing herself onto the floor of the cupboard in an attempt to make her self as small as possible, scared that this terrifying speaker would find her and do to her what he did to Akaya.

Perhaps, it is your loss of sanity that is the reason for you hearing scratching noises. Ariam hissed bravely, Asta raised her head a bit as a silence followed the Nymph’s words however in the next moment her pantry was lighted again and deafened a second time, as the top right corner was blasted to pieces.

The pieces of wood fell onto the girl who had managed to narrowly evade this heart stopping attack, the pantry door was ripped off its hinges, Asta backed up against the remains of the pantry wall praying with all her heart and soul that the invader wouldn’t find her.

At first all she could see were white haired legs then the legs bent and a face peered into the pantry, the yellow eyes sweeping the small space impatiently until his gaze locked with the girl’s hypnotising her within her terror to the point that she could not think or silence her raging heartbeat.

The man’s eyes made all the previous surges of fear seem like nothing. She could feel her meal trying to leave her mouth due to the terror of the man’s insane eyes, eyes that lacked all compassion, all remorse and all capabilities to feel anything for anyone other than himself.

The girl barely managed to keep the bile from leaving her mouth and hitting the gag, however her lower body region did not have the same scruples as she to her embarrassment, relieved herself.

To Asta this angry man was the bogey-man, the embodiment of all her nightmares in one with his angry yellow eyes, his large white beard and flowing white hair and elderly looks combined with the white toga which normally would look rather ridiculous on such a feeble looking man looked like it was also a monster to the girl’s inexperienced eyes.

Did you not hear me Zeus?! I ordered you to leave this place! Hestia said from outside of Asta’s view.

Zeus sighed and sulking got up to his feet, apparently disappointed that he had not found the famed child of Hades as well as irritated by his older sister’s tone of voice.

I need not listen to you woman. The thunder God retorted petulantly, almost childishly with one last glare at the pantry where Asta sat attempting to regain the ability to think as her eyes took in the trashed door, the dismembered table and the butchered chairs and her caretakers who stood in front of the wall to the left of the isle of pantries and the invading God who began to pace in front of them all as though waiting for the opportune moment to destroy them. The only sign of Zeus’s previous attack was the dust on the other side of the room.

You might learn something if you did you stupid, arrogant brat! Ariam snapped her temper winning out over her fear of the ruler of Olympus as she spread her arms fearlessly, What will you do next? Go cry to your mother?!

Zeus reacted to this insult with an icy silence then by summoning a lightning bolt and throwing it at her furiously. The white streak of light was thrown with masterful precision, the attack came so suddenly and so quickly that when the lightning bolt flew and blasted Ariam’s right arm off that no one acted immediately as the remains of it flew and hit the opposite wall with a loud splat.

Everyone seemed to jump at once, with different reactions; Asta started shaking staring up at the angry God above her whom was glaring at the Nymph wrathfully. Ariam glanced from the remains of her arm near the wall then at her own arm in shock and collapsed in agony screaming out her pain to the world as her tears poured down her cheeks. Hestia jumped forward with a raised glowing hand to try to heal if not soothe the poor forest spirit’s pain.

With visible effort Zeus breathed in and out as he regained his ‘calmness’, but to everyone in the room it didn’t matter for they had seen his true nature. Not that he cared, as he pretended to look almost regretful as he examined with his eyes the kneeling, crying Ariam.

I wouldn’t have done that if you had not been a little more polite. He scolded sounding almost fatherly in his disappointment. Now then where are you hiding that creature sister?

Hestia looked up, the hatred in her eyes encompassing everything that her brother was, is and ever would be. She spoke scornfully, almost daring him to do his worst to her as she stood protectively of her handmaiden, I do not know what you speak of and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you!

Asta looked at Hestia, her eyes wide from what she had just seen and from the terror that had flowed through her body moments before. But as her foster-mother’s words sank in she felt hope blossom in her heart, for who could defeat or match her tigress like aunt in such a show of power?

For a brief moment, Zeus looked rather surprised before a transformation seemed to take over him body and soul. His surprise transformed itself into a wickedness that seemed to make even Hestia uncomfortable.

If I’m not going to find what I want, why should I leave empty-handed? Zeus mumbled to himself ominously as he sighed in frustration and inhaled deeply obviously trying to calm his short-temper, he then smirked what he seemed to think was a suave grin, but what really looked like was a smirking skull before he approached the angry goddess with his hand extended out to touch her.

Come now, Hestia as matron of the hearth, aren’t you supposed to welcome me home? The Goddess took a single step back her eyes glaring at him with more fury than the girl hiding in the remnants of the cupboard had ever seen.

Don’t you DARE touch me you little bastard! Hestia shrieked her hands clenched into fists as she stood to her full height to intimidate her younger brother.

If not you then can this fair maiden at least welcome me home? In fact what is your name delightful flower? Zeus asked innocently as he teleported closer to the women and kneeled closer to the Nymph, invading her personal space as he caressed Ariam’s cheek with his right hand unafraid of any of them.

Hestia meanwhile was pushed to the side by his other arm so effortlessly that the ruler of Olympus didn’t care, the goddess crashed through the wall and out of Asta’s view. Moments later though she appeared once again, but this time she stood behind her younger sibling and with her back to the young daughter of Hades.

Eat... shit... the Nymph gasped out, still held in the thrall of the pain that was coming from her burnt, smoking remains of her arm but still finding the strength to look up at him and to spit on his face.

‘Please do not do anything more and just leave Ariam in peace...’ Asta begged mentally unable to form the words because of the gag in her mouth that was now covered in her saliva and the fright that consumed her.

Zeus however would not take this denial very well, he pulled his back and slapped hard, so hard that the woman fell to the side crying in agony. He then rose to his feet, turning around to look at Hestia with both rage and a gleam in his eyes that the godling had never seen before, his eyes spoke of something perverse, something so cruel that Asta’s stomach shrivelled to nothing within mere seconds of looking at him.

The Sacred Laws of the Cosmos written by the divine scribe Thoth and signed by all the rulers of the gods forbids you from committing such a deed... Hestia snapped as she took another step from Zeus as though to try and escape.

Yes, but sister you do realise the duty of a goddess overrides such a stupid law. Zeus said with a smirk as he approached his sister with the same sinister look in his eyes, reacting swifter than thought he grabbed Hestia by the throat and threw her next to Ariam and approached the two women calmly, without haste as though he had all the time in the world.

Over the next few hours Asta would watch as her role model, her protector, her aunt and her caretaker/handmaiden would be tortured and killed in front of her. The young goddess would remain silent both because of the gag and also because she was trying to understand what was happening and why and how her world had imploded upon itself so suddenly.

But she would never be able to find a reason to satisfy herself as her childhood came to an end and she lost everything that defined her beautiful world. In the end though Zeus would leave, no longer caring to look for her and instead headed back to Olympus leaving Asta to try to pick up the pieces of her life...

*****

Tyr hated these kinds of chores. Odin, the one eyed leader of the Aesir, was always making someone he trusted, such as Tyr himself, check up every few days on Hestia to make sure she was safe.

‘Why can’t I be at home making excuses to Hulda about why I’m not home to help raise Zisa right now?’ the God of War thought to himself as an image of his wife and young daughter entered his mind.

It’s not that Tyr didn’t like Hestia or her entourage. Quite the contrary, he considered her a good friend and confidante whenever he had marital problems or any such problems that may trouble him. However it was the fact that he had to go to Midgard (the Realm of Mortals and a place he had always considered none of his business as the Laws usually forbade any one of the gods from entering it) to find her. Luckily he knew where she lived but it didn’t stop her from always wanting him to travel at night, take on the guise of a human and to occasionally double or triple back to make sure that he was not being followed.

The other factor that made him uncomfortable was the fact that whenever he visited he had to deal with a child and having never been very good with children he frequently found himself unsure as to how to handle Asta. To add insult to injury he wasn’t sure if she’d become like other Olympians one day, that is weird, insane, evil or depressed or all of the above. The only exception to these rules being Hestia as the only weird thing about her was that she was perhaps a bit too serious about protecting Asta.

Grumbling about the inconvenience of the chore he came to accomplish he made sure he was headed the right way and that it was night before he stopped to wait for one of Hestia’s handmaidens to come greet and guide him to the hut. Tyr refused to acknowledge it as a house as it was built of nothing but wood and other primitive items.

After waiting for several hours though he grew impatient with the matron of the hearth and swore to have a serious talk with her about wasting his time. Breaking protocol he continued on through the forest just as sunlight began to climb up over the mountain and arrived at where he thought the invisible hut would normally be.

His eyes widened at the sight of the now visible hut and the way that it’s thatched roof was crumbling and how it had fallen apart.

Concern and logic battled as Tyr wondered what could have happened. Concern won, the god of war rushed in screaming Asta and Hestia’s names unable to see anything properly in his distressed state till after he tripped.

‘The great Tyr, the god of war and oaths trips like some clumsy child still learning how to walk! I better leave this detail out when I next see Thoth...’ he thought as got up to his feet, looking for the rock that he tripped over however instead he didn’t find anything save a head.

Hestia’s horror-struck face stared at him making him jump back in fear. As he well knew, when a deity dies their body disappeared due to the fact that the gods were magical in nature and magic faded usually after it outlived its original purpose. That was as much as Tyr had studied on the biology of himself and his family as he didn’t much care how they existed only what they did now that they did exist.

Slowly, cautiously even, he reached out with his only surviving good and now trusted left hand, his right hand having been torn off by Fenrir, the demon wolf son of Loki and Angrboda, some centuries ago in an attempt to pacify it. When he finally touched the head he felt his skin crawl yet persisted in his endeavour and grabbed it by its hair and pulled.

The head gave way a bit only for it to pull away from him, surprising him. Suspicious he let go of the hair, wrapping his left hand around it feeling small hands that for a moment touched his own hands before they pulled the head and themselves away from him.

With a quick glance at the shrine he found it destroyed yet with no sign of the Pendant that had protected the hut for millennia so he reached forward with his left hand and grabbed at the invisible being in front of him holding onto the head and finding a shoulder he adjusted his grip and found the neck that instinctively pulled away from his prying hand.

Seconds later he found what felt like a large round object near the neck that had just pulled away from him, realising it was probably the pendant. Before he could do anything other than tighten his grip on it there was a quick jerk so fast it left even Tyr trying to catch up for a moment. As he seconds later belatedly realised that the person with the pendant had tried to make another escape only for the pendant’s chains to break, forcing the person to become visible.

That person was Asta; the cheerful, rambunctious, friendly child that would never hurt a fly was now looking at him with the dead, lifeless eyes of a corpse. No tears streaked down her delicate cheeks, nor did it seem as though any had. Their absence spoke more loudly than any words ever could. Asta’s once pure and untainted, innocent heart was dead. Now there was a living corpse that looked up at him silently, the head of her foster-mother still in her small child-like hands.

Being the god of war, Tyr had seen many various kinds of traumas and ways of dealing with the pain both because he had had his fair share of it and because of the Mortals he had seen wage war upon one another. With each war there were fresh victims and monsters who each had their own reasons and traumas. However, Asta’s lifelessness was something that Tyr had seen less than a dozen times, it was the worst possible result.

The trauma left her spirit without feeling. Her heart had been so butchered that she might never come to terms with the loss of her family and who knows what else had happened to them as she watched. Tyr had guessed that she watched from the fact that the necklace’s power had been activated around only her, which meant that Hestia had sacrificed herself to save the girl.

‘A child’s eyes are supposed to be filled with naiveté not death,’ he reflected sorrowfully to himself.

Sorrow hit the Aesir like a hammer blow. His heart which was so hardened by war broke at the girl’s apparent suffering. So consumed by his silent grief was he that he almost missed her words, or the fact that the head she had been holding so protectively disappeared.

I... tried to recreate her, but all I could summon was that rotting face of hers that spoke of nothing but her suffering... Asta explained her eyes staring at her hands now, this only lasted for a moment before she seemed to remember something and turned her dark eyes upon the god of war who shivered at the sight of her eyes. Hungry for something he could not give to her, her death. Are... you going to kill me?

The words caught in Tyr’s throat, the lump that was there merged with the words. Climbing clumsily to his feet he looked down at the child with pity in his own orbs.

No, he admitted truthfully though he didn’t know if it would be more merciful to do so.

Tyr remained silent, uncertain whether he should speak or do something and if he did do something what should he do or what should he not do. Comforting children had always been something for Freya, Odin and Freyr as they were all child lovers who knew the nuances of the minds of children.

Who did this? He wondered, unsure of whether he should ask this particular question. The look he received spoke of hatred, a rage that was beyond a child, beyond even rational thought.

Whomever had done this had earned Asta’s eternal hatred, a hatred that was the oldest of all hatreds a rage older than Tyr himself; hatred of evil. Hate originating in trauma at the hands of said evil.

Zeus. She spat out as though it were the foulest of all words, the venom in her voice as poisonous as the venom in her dark light sucking eyes.

Tyr considered the answer for a moment. The truth of what Asta might have seen dawned on him and he considered the girl’s fate for a moment. She was alone now; her family could not take her in for reasons that Tyr did not know. Her only protector was dead and if she turned to any of the other Pantheons for help she might be turned in due to the fact that she would soon be regarded as a criminal, framed for perhaps the murder of Hestia by Zeus. She was forever damaged. Emotionally she might never recover and might forever be gripped by a passionate anger that matched that of his adoptive brother Thor.

Or perhaps he was wrong and her family or another Pantheon would take her in to protect her and Zeus might not frame her for his crimes like he had done to many other Gods, Titans and Jotuns. It took only a few seconds for Tyr to dismiss the idealistic notion and to return his head to the crux of the problem.

Guilt plagued him for his quick dismissal of Hestia’s death and of Asta’s broken heart He knew that it was within his own nature to dismiss and even hide or shirk responsibility when it came to important events but this was cold even for him.

‘But what can I do? I can’t very well take her in, if that were the case I would have to hide her as my own child or some other similar excuse and hide her from everyone and for what? So she could one day seek the vengeance she no doubt craves so badly?’ The god of war argued internally with his own conscious which seemed intent on destroying him.

His eyes moved from the girl, who was now attempting to once again conjure the illusion she seemed to be so obsessed with, probably to try and engrave it into her memory he assumed, and onto his right arm that ended in a short stump right below the wrist.

You may one day think you can’t do this but remember that Destiny does not strike us when we are prepared. We must accept this fact and move our feet along the path that it presents to us no matter how difficult it may be... Odin’s wise voice seemed to say into Tyr’s ear, sounding so real that he almost turned around to try and find his old adoptive father. His father had spoken those words to him when he was but a young godling full of dreams and with two hands attached to his muscled arms.

The memory of the loss of his hand struck him the moment he thought of it. The pain of the loss was as though Fenrir had just ripped his right hand off anew. He remembered how he had hated both the wolf, for having bitten off his precious hand, and the rapid dismissal made by many of his ‘friends’ and ‘family’.

He realised that a part of him, that hurt, enraged part of him that hated those people for having dismissed or been indifferent to his agony, wished to lash out even though he couldn’t.

The emotional pain now accompanied him like a constant companion even after the physical pain had departed, the thought struck him just as much as the words of his beloved mentor and father; ‘I may have never learnt how to make the pain disappear but I certainly learnt how to deal with it... maybe just maybe this is destiny striking me with an opportunity to redeem myself from my own stupid mistakes and failings as a father and husband...’

His decision made, he felt pride that after so many years of failure, with his only success being his defiance of Fenrir, he had finally found himself once again and was finally doing something right again.

What does your name mean to you? Tyr asked, his resolve strengthening by the second until he finally convinced himself that this was the right course. The girl turned her eyes from the illusion that promptly faded away due to lack of concentration, and onto him. Even if she could never heal from this, he thought, perhaps he could help alleviate some of the pain, with some wisdom taught to him by his father and some of his friends of the east.

She turned her eyes away; avoiding his penetrating gaze, as he remembered how he had felt as a child, when his real father had abandoned him, to die in the frozen wastelands of Jotunheim. And what he had, done to grow as a man.

Your current name will always be a reminder of your weakness. Which is why, from this day onward you will become, under my tutelage, the living definition of ‘Divine Strength’ itself. At least until, you can cleanse yourself of the weakness which was born today. Which is why, you should follow the customs of the east, by choosing for yourself a new name. He declared solemnly, remembering the speech his adopted father had given him in his own youth. Though he knew that the possibility that she might use his teachings for ill was high, he knew there was an equal chance that she might, use his teachings for good. Either way, if she killed Zeus or failed she could never