He stands as still as stone looking into the Styx's turgid waters. The gloom of my empire has bleached him of his golden color and left him stark in black and white. Just another statue to grace one of his temples. Until you notice the tears running down his face and the tension in his muscles. Who would create a statue of a god in such pain?

The first time I saw his face he was barely considered an adult. Eyes sparkling blue and a smile too wide for his face. The light of adventure and rebellion made him glow as bright as the lighting bolts in his hand. His enthusiasm made me want to follow him to hell and back. Which I ended up doing far more often than I thought possible.

He had clasped me by the hand and called me brother, after a lifetime grown inside of my father's stomach, this young god was my sun, my moon, and I would do anything for him.

The sparkle in his blue eyes is gone now as he turns to me and whispers, "Brother, how could I have let this happen?" The light is gone. The adventure over. A new rebellion has come and taken the glow from my brother's face. I want to hold him and tell him it will be all right, as an older brother should. The lies don't come to my lips, though.

The war was over and all the gods, whether they fought on our side or the Titans, clamored for Zeus to take the throne. He was older now, he looked like he could rule us all with his brawn and strong features. He was a man. He was a god.

He listened to their cries and closed his eyes for just a moment to collect his thoughts. When he turned to where we sat, his brothers and sisters, and urged us forward, we didn't know what he was doing. His proclamation that he was to share his thrown with us, made the wind rush out of my lungs and make me fall to my knees. He was a greater god than all of us. Generous and strong.

Where was that strength now? He looked like he barely had the strength to hold himself up. He was using the stone pillar beside him as a crutch, as a cane. At the beginning, when eternity looked like a glorious thing, he shared his power with us all. Now when our kingdom was collapsing and a new empire rising around our ashes, he takes the burden on his shoulders alone. None of us can help him, except for me. Will I do what he asks?

His brow creased as the Fates held the three coins that would determine our future. One would rule the Heavens, One would rule the Seas, One would rule the Underworld. His blue eyes were sharp and calculating as he evaluated the blank coins that refused to betray which realm it would decree.

"This doesn't have to be determined by Fate," Poseidon murmured again.

"Yes it does!" Zeus's brow deepened as his stubbornness became more prominent, "I will not let it be said that I stole from my own brothers. This must be decided by the Fates. It's the only fair thing."

I looked at Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos sternly as they cackled and gave me a wink. I had pleaded with them before hand. I knew, even if this golden king of mine refused to see it, that he needed to be of the Heavens. The Underworld would steal the glow from my brother's face.

When I looked at the coin in my hand turn black, relief swept through me. Zeus would stay under Helios's glow and rule with light and power.

Here, at the end, it was not my kingdom that stole his glow, shattered his strength. He was grave sitting in the marble palace of Olympus. When the mortals that he loved so strongly gave their worship to this new God; they stole and killed the glow that has made me worship him as strongly as any other. Never again shall I pity these mortals who enter my land never to return to the sunlight.

"Please, brother," His pale eyes that held no color in this lightless land begged me. His voice had no strength. None of the stubbornness I knew. He wasn't demanding, he wasn't persuading. He was weary and looking for an escape. I had sacrificed so much for him; I had exiled myself to the darkest realm to rule for eternity. Could I do this for him too?

One of the first times I had seen him in pain was the first time Hera had found him with another woman. He came to me in my dark place and cried and lamented loudly. Nothing he did was without passion. The tears threatened to create another river in my lands and his howls made Cerberus cower. He told me that he didn't mean to hurt her. That he didn't want his new lover to feel pain either. He blamed himself and no one else.

"Help me, Hades!" He screamed, not at me but at the dark world in general, "How could I have ruined everything?"

I could not help myself… I laughed at my dramatic little brother and told him it would be alright. It was too. For a time.

His lament is much the same now. "Help me, Hades." His voice is a passionless echo almost drowned out by the lazy gurgling of the dark river. "How could I have ruined everything?" The last just a sigh on the still air.

Laughter couldn't come to me if I forced it. My words of comfort stick in my throat. For the first time I regret that he comes to me for aid and advice. For the first time I want to do nothing less then help him.

If only he didn't blame himself and no one else. Then maybe he wouldn't be asking this of me.

"Take away my divinity, brother," His request makes my heart ache and disobey, "Let me die." Without his kingdom, what is a king of a gods to do? Live eternity as a nothing? As an echo of his passionate glory? Or disappear like his kingdom? Go down with his ship?

Without my sun, moon, king, and brother… What am I to do? I once said I would do anything for him. Can I do this? Without him… Who will take the divinity from me?