by Gene Stiles
It took another ten years before Hades learned of their origins and his initial horror turned into a seething rage, not directed toward the unfortunates, but at the Lord Father of Atlantis, Cronus. It was that one who was more monstrous than his creations. It was Cronus who bred them in a hellish place called Pettit. They were the first born of that nightmarish, abhorrent experiment. Nature screamed along with the women of the People, raped repeatedly under command of that beast, producing twisted creatures in an attempt to prevent further torment. But Cronus did not listen nor care so the Great Mother relented, giving him what he wanted instead of filling the world with creatures of nightmares. Hades swore an oath that someday he would make the Lord Father pay for his crimes against the Creator. He vowed he would punish that animal as no man had ever been punished, that the agonizing, exquisite tortures would be the worst ever devised and would last for an eternity.
In the decades that followed, the First Children, as they came to be known, integrated seamlessly into Underworld society. Those who could not stomach their ungainly visage found work in other mines or simply looked away. The wraith of Hades against any who abused them was harsh, well-known and sometimes permanent. Strangely, many grew to love them almost as much as their protector did. Though they grew to gargantuan size – the tallest towering fifteen-foot-six-inches high – they maintained a child-like mentality. The smallest of kindnesses or sweet treats brought a glowing smile to their twisted lips, lighting their eyes as brightly as a noonday sun on the meadows above. The tinkling giggles that emanated from them were high-pitched and so out of place in their huge, titanic, heavily muscled chests that it never failed to warm those responsible for their joy.
The First Children may have been mentally stunted, but their other gifts made the highly respected and sought after. No ten men could compete with their prodigious strength and they were quick to help with labor that would have broken their smaller fellow miners. Yet, that was not the main reason even highborn Ladies and Lords ventured into the dark pit to find their representatives. Their minds might be slow to speak – two of them never uttered a single word – but their fingers could create a beauty of gem and metal so delicate and stunning it awed all who gazed upon it. Their jewelry demanded such a high price throughout the world that it was worn only by the wealthiest of the People.
They had another talent, spoken of only in the shadows, but equally if not more important. They created the most deadly weapons ever devised.
Hades never forgot his oath to his wards, yet even his power was not great enough to capture or kill the Lord Father or to take on the might of Atlantis. Against his strict orders, three mines rose up in defiance against Cronus. Now they were just empty blackened pits filled only with restless ghosts and the decayed, shattered bones of the dead. Those savage, vicious attacks only fueled his burning hatred and his seething desire for retribution. Hades prayed to the Creator every night for a means to fulfill his vow. His pleas went unanswered…until today.
“Thank you for seeing us,” the golden-eyed man standing before him in his private living quarters said respectfully. He stood almost as tall as Hades, a fiery mane of blond-streaked, wavy, red hair surrounding his strong, sharp features. He stood straight-backed and proud, the smile beneath his yellowish-red beard warm and friendly. His sculpted, hard muscled body was clad in simple tan pants and calf-high, black boots, a collarless, beige, V cut tunic stretched across his broad, flat-shouldered chest. A wide belt of plain, black leather encircled his waist, a large, square buckle of silver emblazoned with a stylized lightning bolt in the center.
Hades could see in the man’s stance someone used to being in command, yet not arrogant or rude. It was the two women with him that drew his attention the most, not because of the stunning beauty, but because of the strange look on their faces as they gazed at him. They could have been sisters, though something told him they were not. Both had long waves of honey-blond hair cascading over their shoulders down to their narrow waists and eyes of the purest sky-blue. Their curvaceous, sensual bodies would bring out the lust in any man who caught their gaze, but the toned, corded sinews clearly visible beneath their skin-tight, knee-length dresses told Hades that they were warriors used to battle.
“You do not know how long I have been searching for you,” the elder of the women said, her lips trembling as she spoke, tears streaking her high, blushed cheeks. Her fists balled at her sides and her body quivering as if she wanted to rush forward and wrap him in a crushing embrace. “I am so very sorry it has taken me so long. Please forgive me.”
“Forgive you? For what? I do not believe we have ever met,” Hades said, his head cocked in curiosity, his black eyes glittering in the lights of his living room. He waved his odd guests to his couch and took a plushy padded chair before them.
The woman slumped to the sofa like a stone, unable to speak, her head buried in her hands as she sobbed uncontrollably. He did not know what to do or say as the other woman comforted her so he beckoned for his servant to bring hot tea and ale.
“What troubles you so?” Hades asked the woman gently after a moment. “Who are you?”
She looked up into his face, her eyes puffy and wet. He could not comprehend the reasons for the depth of the sorrow shining within them, nor the love mirrored alongside until she spoke the words that shook the foundations of his world and hammered into his soul.
“I am Rhea,” she cried softly. “Wife of Cronus, Lord Father of Atlantis, in a life long passed. I am your mother and this man is your youngest brother, Zeus, ruler of Olympia. Together with your sisters, we shall take from that animal all he has taken from us.”
“The Creator truly moves in mysterious ways,” Minos said, sitting before the hearth in Hades’ chambers. He leaned his bulk back into the couch, his arm draped over the end as he sipped on steaming green tea. “Who would have guessed that the man you have sworn to punish is, in fact, your own father? How do you feel, my friend?”
“I feel as if I have been dragged through a fist-sized shaft by the hair of my head,” Hades replied, sighing heavily as he stretched his long legs out in front of his overstuffed rocking chair. He used his boot to pull over a large, padded ottoman and sank his heels upon it, crossing his feet at the ankles. “Mother,” he pondered, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling. “It is strange. I have never given much thought to having one. Of course, I know I was born through the flesh of a woman as were all men and I do have a faint, childish remembrance of warm arms embracing me. However, this woman, Rhea, does not fit my memories. Maybe those ancient recollections are naught but the fantasies of childish desire.”
“What I recall from my misty early years,” Hades said, sipping upon the tankard of strong, dark ale he cupped between his hands, “are reflections of soft hands and bright, shining eyes; of loving arms that cocooned me in a blanket of warmth and love; of a tender smile in a foggy face filled with gentle kindness.”
“The woman waiting above has none of these things.” Hades looked into his ale as if hoping to find clarity in the froth resting on top of the dark brew. “She is bitter, filled with hatred and fury. Her eyes blaze not with love, but with a need for vengeance. I see in her terse lips not tenderness, but an almost animalistic savagery. Could she truly be my mother?”
“Think of the life she has lived,” Minos responded, remembering all they had been told over the past two days. “Her children were ripped from her by her own husband and hidden so well that she thought they might have been murdered. Yet, if she is to be believed, she never gave up searching for them and for you. The Lady Rhea has suffered violent abuse at the hand of Cronus. She has watched him destroy the ideals and principles on which Atlantis was founded. She has witnessed his cruelty and viciousness against the Izon and against any who oppose him. She has lived in fear and terror, never knowing when his madness might be directed upon her flesh. These things change a person…as you well know.”
“I do,” Hades agreed, “but we have a choice.
We can let hate devour us as it seems she is doing and become as vicious and evil as our abusers, in turn becoming abusers ourselves, or we can choose to become better. I hope I have become such a man. I do understand the place of violence and force in this world, but I believe it should only be used in defense and for the sake of justice and not for the sole purpose of seeking revenge.”
“There is still love and kindness within her,” Minos pointed out. “I can see it in her eyes when she gazes upon you. I saw it in the piteous tears she shed when they told us of Pettit and you introduced them to the First Children. When she held their hands, her face was not filled with revulsion, but with a mother’s compassion and deep-seated remorse for the circumstances of their birth and her part in it. I saw her guilt that she did not learn of that vile place earlier and did not act sooner. There is much goodness within her.”
“Perhaps,” Hades conceded, his ebon eyes sharpening as he came to a difficult personal decision. “And perhaps it is time I returned to the world above – at least for a short while. With what we have learned from these people and what we have heard from all the new prisoners sent to the mines in recent years, the world above is crumbling. Divisions among the surface dwellers are as deep as the bottom of this pit and just as black. A war is coming and it will not take long for it to destroy all we of the Underworld have built. We have already seen what horrors Cronus is capable of. The First Children and our dead mines are proof of that. He must be stopped.”
Hades slammed his tankard upon the small table next to him hard enough to slosh the liquid upon the polished wood and rose from his chair.
“If, as they believe, reuniting with my brothers and sisters can become the symbol the world needs to stand together, I have no real choice.”
“Then I shall go with you,” Minos replied sternly.
“No, my friend,” Hades said, placing a firm hand upon the man’s shoulder before he could arise. “I need you here to run the Underworld and to keep me informed of any intelligence you gather.”
“But, you will have need of me out there,” Minos said in turn, frowning as he looked up at his Lord.
“True enough,” Hades replied, a warm smile upon his lips, “and there may come a time when I call upon you to join me. Until then, there is no one I trust more than you to stand in my stead. Please do this for me.”
“As you command, Lord of the Underworld,” Minos said, a small, humorous grin touching his lips as he rose to embrace his friend. As Hades guffawed at his words, he added much more seriously, “Take care above. It is a very dangerous place.”
“It can be no more dangerous than life below ground,” he said, thanking Minos for his concern. “I have survived this place. I can survive that one.”
The brilliant yellow sunlight in the cloudy azure sky reflected off the dark water beneath them, hurting Hades’ eyes even through the tinted and polarized, clear-crystal eyewear the First Children created for him. It gave him constant headaches and burned his naturally copper skin, darkening the hue to almost black. His flesh bubbled and blistered painfully whenever it was exposed the flames of the sun so, despite the oppressive heat, Hades learned quickly to keep himself covered during the day. Thankfully, he healed overnight, each day adapting to this blazing foreign environment a little bit more.
The Great Vastitis River they traveled upon wound its way across the entire Prubrazian continent from the southwest to the northeast for over fifteen hundred miles. As they sailed along the rough, often dangerous waters, they were hedged in by dense, dark verdant forests filled with a cacophony of sound at times so loud that speech became difficult. Not even the night was quiet. Howls and snarls rent the air from unseen nocturnal predators followed close by the horrific wails of their terrified prey.
“How are you feeling?” Zeus asked kindly, coming up behind Hades as he leaned over the rail, relieving his stomach of its dinner.
“Oh, just wonderful,” Hades quipped coarsely, wiping his mouth with the back of his shirtsleeve. The bile filling his throat burned like acid and left a foul taste in his mouth. “My belly coils like a nest of vipers. I cannot hold down my meals. My skin burns. I have daily headaches and I cannot seem to maintain my balance on this constantly rocking vessel. Beyond that, I am just fine.” He gave Zeus a disgusted glance and added sarcastically, “I am so glad I came with you,”
“I am sorry for your discomfort,” Zeus said, unable to keep a small chuckle from accompanying his words. He handed his brother a cup of light yellow tea to cleanse his lips and leaned on the bulwark to stare into the pitch-black jungle passing by them. “Hopefully, you will gain your legs by the time we reach the Biblis Delta where the river meets the sea. I have arranged for a sky skimmer to meet us there. The flight to Afrikanikis should be easier on your delicate constitution. I doubt you would care for ocean travel.”
“Delicate?” Hades growled, sipping on his tea, grateful for the soothing feeling as it passed down his throat. “I have never thought of myself as ‘delicate’.”
“I do not believe that you are,” Zeus said, laughing out loud as he clasped his brother’s shoulder. “Truly. It is only that you have spent your life on land. Sea life takes time to get used to. At that, after spending months on the rolling, churning water, one must adapt to the feel solid ground once again. I believe you will find air travel much smoother.”
“Then why did we not simply fly in the first place?”
“Cronus has Sentinels and scout ships that scan the sky,” Zeus answered, “and though it is unlikely we would be discovered by his patrols, we deemed it safer not to take the chance if we did not have to.”
“I must admit,” Hades said, nodding his understanding, “this is the most unusual vessel I have ever seen. It seems to be a cross between a water ship and a skyship.”
“It is,” Haleah replied, stepping up from the cabins below to join the men on the deck. She took a moment to gaze up at the inky blackness of the star-filled sky that shown through the canopy of trees bordering the river. “The sky drive allows us to float down the waterfalls and can lift us across unnavigable sections, but it is too small to maintain long-term flight. The jet drive can take us through rough currents, but that, too, is insufficient to power us the entire way. Thus, the sails.”
“It is a marvel, to be sure,” Hades said, enjoying the presence of this incredible woman as she came to stand next to him.
Despite the tragedies of her life, there was a strength and kindness about her that astounded him. From what he knew of her, Haleah, like Rhea should be bitter and angry, but she was not. She was open and warm, spending time with him and answering his questions honestly without hesitation. Her life intrigued him, especially the time before she had awoken the People. It was through her he learned that the Izon were bloodkin and the reason behind the hatred Cronus felt for them.
“The scanners tell us we shall be in a calm, clear section of the river for some time,” Haleah told them. “Your mother is preparing a small repast below should you care to join us.”
“I am hungry,” Hades grimaced, his hand upon his belly, “but I do not know if my stomach can handle another round.”
“Then at least you can bless us with your company,” she replied, a stunning smile upon her full, red lips. Her bright blue eyes glimmered in the dim lights of the main deck as she took his hand. “Besides, we could all use some rest.”
In the weeks it took to reach the delta they learned much about each other, building a deep bond of love and respect between them. It was strange for Hades to find he had a family of brothers and sisters and a mother who loved him deeply beneath the bitterness that enshrouded her. The more Hades learned of his father though, the more he realized he had chosen the right course, the path every horror, every experience, every decision and every judgment that he had ever made had led him down. He had no doubt he was now part of something bigger than himself, something for which his whole life had been designed and he thanked the Creator for it.
C
hapter VIII
Anak had come to know he was truly a monster. How could he not? The People of Atlantis never let him forget it. No matter the Lord Father’s mandate, he and his Nephilim brothers and sisters were ostracized in the golden city. Especially the few like him – one of the gigantic elite. No one would take them into their homes unless forced to by Cronus. Those compulsory placements only fueled the fires of hatred heaped upon the children of Pettit. Though fed, clothed and educated by decree, the lucky ones were disdainfully ignored in their households, the others treated with outright savage cruelty. After only two short years, the children begged the Twelve to return them to the group home. By the end of the fourth, three-quarters of the elite fled the city and disappeared into the wilds of the world.
Anak did not. Like a child who spent his lifetime seeking the love of a chastising mother who denounced and rejected him, he vowed to earn at least the respect he was owed. By now he realized he could not demand their approval so he would just have settle for their fear and that was easy to receive.
“I think it’s time for us to leave,” Alcmene said, warily eyeing the four young Black Guard a few tables away. Though she could not hear their words over the pounding music and the babble of hundreds of laughing voices filling the Wind Song, her skin crawled at their sadistically lecherous sidelong glances. She could feel the malice radiating from their blurry, drunken eyes and see it in the twist of their acrimonious sneers.
“I believe you may be right,” Anak replied, his glistening amber eyes narrowing as he caught the direction of her gaze and sensed her mounting apprehension.
