Chapter One – The Manumission

"Hades! How delightful it is to see you, oldest brother! Please, take a seat. Rest yourself. You must be tired from walking all this way."

Zeus waved his hand, and an ornate chair – not as pretty as his own throne, but still quite remarkable – appeared behind the dark form of his brother, who did not choose to take a seat.

There was a few moments' pause. Zeus tried to look welcoming, but he could not conceal his obvious discomfort. Hades stood stone-still, gazing at the other god through the eye-holes of his brass helmet.

"Well; and how are things?" he finally asked.

"They're, uh… They're quite good," Zeus responded.

"How are all the other Olympians doing? How is Hera?"

"Oh, Hera. We haven't talked in the last few years. She's all right, I suppose."

"In the last few years? Did something happen?"

"No." Zeus scratched his head. "We just… don't talk a lot, I suppose. I'm not sure if she enjoys being around me that much."

"I see," Hades said. "And what of my daughter-in-law, Athena?"

"Spending most of her time on Earth at present. She said something about a war. But we've been keeping in touch."

"How are the twins?"

"Quite good. Apollo keeps talking about a new wind instrument he's going to design. And Artemis hasn't had to transform any men into stags for three centuries." He chuckled. Hades didn't join him.

"Ares?"

"If he's to blame for the war that's keeping Athena occupied, I wouldn't be surprised at all. He's been strutting around and smirking incessantly. I'd ground him, but I doubt he'd let himself be grounded." He sighed, shrugged. "Kids. You know? I mean, you can never just get through to them."

Hades simply gave a single nod of the head. And there was silence.

-----

Presently he said, "I assume you must be wondering why I came."

"Well…" Zeus smiled. "Yes, I expect I must."

"There is a matter that has come to my attention. Regarding Tartarus, and the souls that are doomed to remain within."

"Yes?"

"It has occurred to me that some of them are punished far more brutally than they deserve."

Zeus' eyes narrowed. "So? Do you, perhaps, feel that the souls should be exonerated? That Tartarus should be no longer a land of pain and torture? Is that what you wish, Hades?"

Hades laughed. It was a harsh, grating sound. "Little brother, I don't know what's more idiotic: the idea that I might wish that for Tartarus, or the idea that I might need your permission to do it."

Zeus was obviously flustered. "Let me remind you, Hades, that I am the king of the Olympian gods. All living things respect me, whether spirit, mortal or god. Not even another Olympian would dare to—"

"Fine; except that by any reasonable criterion, I'm not an Olympian god. I never have been, and I never shall be. My domain lies as far from Mount Olympus as the distance from one end of the universe to another. I'm just another god in the Greek pan-theon, that's all. And where I live," and here he leaned close to Zeus, "your petty rules mean nothing."

He straightened up again and added, "Besides, no matter how many puny mortals worship you, you're still just my little brother as far as I'm concerned."

"Enough!" Zeus leapt up from his throne, eyes aflame. Thunderstorms abruptly started all over the Earth. "I will not merely sit here and allow myself to be insulted by you. Did you come here seeking battle, brother? For you have provoked me such that I would kill you a hundred times over. You are banished from Mount Olympus. Go now, before I destroy you."

Hades slipped out of sight. Zeus was startled, but at the same time unsurprised. It was a property of Hades' helmet that he could use it to become invisible whenever he liked. A moment later, Hades reappeared at Zeus' side.

"Fair enough," he murmured. "I can see I have gone too far. But allow me to simply tell you what I meant to say about the souls in Tartarus before you invoke my exile."

"Just say it and go."

"Any normal human ought to be condemned to Tartarus. They've earned it just by being human; it's their nature. But there are some who have transcended human nature, and performed such great deeds in their time that they don't deserve the punishment I have had no choice but to give them."

"Name them."

"Muriathlos and Eutolmos," Hades listed. "Sebomai and Archegos and Skene. Agenor and Philoparabolos and all the Botianeira and—"

"Enough!" Zeus said. "I acknowledge your point. The men and women of which you speak redeemed themselves during their stay on the mortal plane. They have not earned their suffering."

"Exactly," Hades replied. "And that is all I wished to bring to your attention."

"Fine. Go, and never come back."

Could it be that Hades smiled a little, as his form faded away into nothing?

-----

After contemplating the words of his older brother for some time, Zeus walked to the opposite end of the room, where a small orb rested on its pedestal. The orb was smooth, cold, and jet-black, blacker than the night sky. There was an indescribable atmosphere of nothingness around it, as though the air surrounding it did not exist at all.

And even Zeus, even the mighty lord of the Olympian gods, could not suppress a shudder as he gently lifted the orb and held it up in the air.

"Now, orb of the Void," he whispered. "Take me to where the stars and the sun do not shine, where the winds do not blow, where there is no land and there is no sea. Take me to nowhere."

And the orb of the Void grew. Before it had been small enough to hold in the palms of Zeus' hands. Soon he found it had grown too large even to carry on his shoul-ders. The orb swelled up, engulfing Zeus' throne room, engulfing his palace, engulfing everything.

Or was it Zeus who was shrinking, growing so tiny that he could pass directly into the orb of the Void?

Zeus did not take time to reflect upon the matter. He was now completely surrounded by darkness, floating in the nothing. And he had a task to attend to.

He had a new plane to create.

He began by tracing a great circle before him with his finger. Where the circle had been, light emerged from the gloom. It was a sun, many millions of miles in diameter; but Zeus had an infinity of void to work with, and he found it easiest to form worlds when he was at his full cosmic size. Thus it was that the sun was only about the size of Zeus himself. He lifted the sun with no difficulty and cast it up into the air, where it hung, shedding its rays.

"For them doth the strength of the sun shine below," Zeus spoke softly.

Then he splayed his fingers and spread his hands across the black expanse. Where his hands went, lush grass appeared. Soon he had formed a vast stretch of grasslands, suspended like a sheet of paper in the void.

"While night all the earth doth overstrow," he said.

He rubbed his hands together and cupped them. He was holding a mountain of tiny red specks, which he flung out across the plains. "In meadows of roses their suburbs lie/Roses all tinged with a crimson dye."

He pulled out a single strand of his hair and clapped it tightly between his hands, then opened them. He was holding a green sphere of leaves. He threw it down upon the grass, and in mid-flight it fragmented into thousands of tiny trees, that spread out across the land in patches of forest. "They are shaded by trees that incense bear/And trees with golden fruit so fair."

He laid his hands flat upon the surface and drew them up, and hundreds of tiny horses emerged from the ground and galloped across the plains. "Some with horses and sports of might."

He uttered a soft note. The sound expanded upon itself and grew into a full song, beautiful and perfect, which echoed across the land and eventually faded away into other songs. "Others in music and draughts delight."

Finally, he drew up clay from the soil and fashioned several tiny shrines, which, kneeling down, he placed in a circle at the center of the fields. Each shrine had a small fire burning within it, and the fires exuded a wonderful scent. "Happiness there grows ever apace/Perfumes are wafted o'er the lovely place/As the incense they strew where the gods' altars are/And the fire that consumes it is seen from afar."

Zeus stood up. "It is done," he said. "Release this plane and its creator from your core, orb of the Void. Apallakteon."

And when he had said this word, the darkness churned around him and began to fade. The marble walls and floor of his throne room dimly came into view. Soon he was standing once more with the orb in his hand.

He placed it on its pedestal. The task was done.

He had created the Elysian Fields.

-----

"Are you sure about this, Zeus?"

They had been walking down the twisting tunnels and corridors of dark stone, when Zeus looked at his mother and found that she had stopped.

"I mean, do you really wish to let him go?"

"Yes, O Rheia. Of course I do. Kronos has been imprisoned for millenia. He will have repented for his actions. And none of the Olympian gods are free to guard the Elysian Fields. If I offer Kronos his freedom, he will be happy to accept the responsibility that comes along with it."

Rheia uttered the tiniest of sighs, and Zeus added, "What's wrong, mother? Surely you will be happy to see your husband again?"

Rheia did not have time to say under her breath that nothing could make her less happy, for they rounded a corner and faced the Hecatonchires.

The Hecatonchires were great, hulking humanoids with fifty heads and a hundred arms each. There were three of them, and they stood before the bronze door where Kronos was kept. They were among the children of the first couple, Gaia and Ouranos, and they had sided with the Olympians in the fierce war against the Titans that had marked the beginning of time.

"Greetings to you, Lord Zeus of the thunderclouds," said they. "And greetings to you also, Lady Rheia, mother of the Olympians."

"Briareus. Cottus. Gyges. It is good to see you once more. How is the door?"

"It holds. Our charge has not attempted to break free in several centuries."

"Good," Zeus responded. "But now I'd like you to set him free."

The Hecatonchires looked dumbfounded, and Briareus asked, "But why would you willingly let him go?"

"I have a job that only he can perform right now, I fear."

The Hecatonchires glanced at each other and shrugged. "What your lordship wishes is what we wish as well."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Then the Hecatonchires took the handle to the bronze door and pulled with all their might. Slowly, but surely, the door creaked open. Zeus walked into the dark room beyond, with Rheia following behind.

"My love? …And my son?" a low voice asked.

There sat the shadow form of Kronos. His four wings were crumpled and decrepit, and his hair had grown pure white in the darkness of the cave. He gazed up at them pathetically, but his old pride and anger were quickly returning to him.

"Yes, father. Rheia and I have come to set you free."

"Set me free?" Kronos asked. There was almost a tone of hurt disbelief in his voice. "Why would you do that?"

"I have created a new plane of existence, the Elysian Fields. It is a paradise where the heroes who once suffered in Tartarus can now live in peace and joy. And you are the only one to whom I can entrust custody of the residents."

"Ohoho…" Kronos laughed slowly. "This is a trick, vile son… You plan to kill me…"

"This is not a trick," Zeus said simply, "and I have no such plan."

"But…"

Kronos looked pained.

"Why would you set me free? I ate your brothers and sisters, so long ago. I would have eaten you, too, if Rheia hadn't tricked me. And once you had come back, I brutally attacked you. You defeated me, and imprisoned me here. Why should I suddenly be absolved?"

"You are absolved because I wish it," Zeus said simply. "Now come. We shall journey to Elysium."

But he could not help noticing, as Zeus helped him to his feet and walked him out of the dungeon, that the old god wore a grimace on his face, as though he wanted nothing less than freedom.