Hi Readers, this is the final chapter.
We live in an odd time with uncertain resolutions ahead. The stress is hitting us all in different ways.
Stay safe, stay healthy and thank you again for all your patience. I hope you have enjoyed this journey.
Four Mortal Years Later
Crossroads are terrible and important places. Where the road met another, there were choices to be made, for mortals and immortals alike. There will always be altars placed to the deities in these places to recognise how vital they are; they recognise the decisions made and the barriers of places, including the edges of the realms. Some of these altars are in the forms of great statues, elaborate arrangements of sacrifices and offerings, things deliberately built by the priests. But ask any chthonic god or goddess, they know the most important altar was the road itself and the earth scrapped by the feet of those who made their destinies in the route they took.
Deep in the heart of the Greek countryside, there was a crossing causing the mortals some concern of late, so much so that there were many stories in the local area. One of the altars looked strange to passersby and for the last three nights men and women had described an eerie shadow that would flicker where there was no light and no beast to cast the shape. The local people grew concerned at these tales but there nothing else special about the place and no obvious portents. They had finally consulted the closest priests, who came from the Temple to Hermes nearby to discern the cause. After more nights of the strange phenomena being reported to the temple without much change, two of the priests consented to go and see it for themselves.
The two priests knelt at the foot of the stony altar that lay in the middle of the crossroads, murmuring their fervent prayers to Hermes. The older one gasped as suddenly, like in all the accounts, there was the odd shadow in the gloom clearly before the two holy men.
"Protect us, god of travelers," they begged, backing away. Despite their trepidation, they didn't turn their gaze away. Auguries and omens had to be witnessed.
The shadow grew, almost forming fingers that stretched upwards towards the moon and out greedily in the direction of their torches, as though to snuff them out. The priests held their ground.
"What is it?" the younger one muttered.
"Hecate, perhaps," the older one considered, sweat beading down his face. "The witch-goddess often lies in crossroads waiting between the folds of the worlds. But I have never seen her power so clear to men."
A giggle answered him, issuing from the shadow. Both men glanced towards one another and bolted, leaving the torches to gutter on the road. In the dying light, the shadow reared up and the giggling got louder. Finally, it took more of a corporeal form but by then both men were hollering to be let inside the walls of the town, in a terror that something unnatural was chasing them home.
Melinoe was indeed a frightening-looking goddess. Half of her had the visage of a beautiful maiden, with wide eyes the colour of darkest silver; her creamy skin highlighted rosy lips in a heat-shaped face. But if anyone looked closely, the other half was permanently shadowy in appearance, like the surface of a murky lake. When the light hit her just right, you could see the outline of a gleaming skeleton underneath the thin layer of her skin. Her bones shimmered like the most exquisite diamond, with that strange inky skin going translucent at certain angles. Her black hair, so reminiscent of her father's, drifted in a sort of halo as though she was underwater. Likewise, the folds of her clothing hovered away from her body, as though gravity was non-existent in her presence.
She floated as she manifested, still giggling. Her hair splayed in the night air. A dog, or perhaps a wolf, howled nearby. Melinoe gave it an appreciative grin.
To those who were brave enough to watch her, she seemed graceful in the air. A human might think she was about six or seven years old, with a terrible childish amusement at her appearance in the night. Unlike her siblings, bound to this realm or the other, Melinoe exalted in the spaces in-between and roamed where she willed without the restriction of duties. Melinoe liked the effect of her appearance when she decided to manifest in front of the living – she liked scaring the mortals when she decided to explore Zeus's realm.
The road shivered. In the light of the moon, another goddess materialized but she kept her feet firmly on the ground. Her wrists jingled as she walked towards Melinoe, her many black skirts swaying beneath her.
"You didn't correct the poor man?" Hecate asked with the same hint of glee that was evident on Melinoe's face. Melinoe swam as she shook her head. Hecate surveyed the crossroads. Selene's bright face hung high in the sky.
"This night will do well," she noted, beckoning Melinoe towards her. The princess of the Underworld stuck her tongue out at first but as Hecate gathered the materials for a summoning, her curiosity made her drift closer. Hecate just continued her preparations.
"Do the dead talk to you in this realm?" Hecate asked. She pushed her skirts aside to study the earth.
"Mhmm," Melinoe agreed. "Did you know I told sister when she missed a soul?"
"Oh?" Hecate asked, drawing a circle on the ground.
"I met Circe too," Melinoe reflected, flipping daintily in the air to stare at the stars. "She was nice. We had pork. I tried a pineapple too. I like her island."
"She's another of my pupils," Hecate said, crushing powders between her fingers and letting them fall into the centre of the circle.
Hecate muttered words to begin the summoning, which brought the little princess's attention back to the ground. Green smoke filled the air. The altar seemed to hum. Stones danced from their places on the ground to form a solid platform for the dead.
A Shade stood and immediately bowed to Hecate.
"Welcome back," the goddess laughed. "Do as you are required."
The Shade began to walk away, over the hills towards the village the two priests came from. Hecate didn't need to spell out her will on the raised soul, they simply knew what their creator intended – she was powerful. Melinoe climbed higher into the air in order to follow his progress across the town's borders. A glimmer of unnatural green marked the Shade's steady progress.
"I could do that?" Melinoe asked. Hecate smiled and nodded regally.
"Princess, I expect you will be far more skilled than I in time," Hecate stretched her fingers and prepared for another spell to work her will. "This will be a small example of what you could accomplish."
"Zag won't like it," whined Melinoe. "He thinks its dumb."
"Your brother is bound to Olympus," Hecate shrugged. "He will think as they do." The goddess gave a sly grin. "Besides, his cousin will keep him occupied with merriment. Dionysus is good that way."
Melinoe let out a long dramatic sigh and drifted along the treetops. "Cari and Thanatos might not like it either."
Hecate laughed again, and the necklaces at her throat shivered. "Those lovebirds won't mind. It won't interfere in their work. Just make sure what you rise, you put to bed, you hear me?"
Put the dead to rest. Growing up in the Underworld, Melinoe knew the rules inside and out. But whereas her shining sister and her stalwart brother stuck to the limitations of their duties, their little sister had different ideas. But she wasn't going to inform anyone of that.
"Yes, Auntie Hecate," Melinoe recited, hoping she sounded sincere but the goddess's answering laughter said that she understood her little pupil to be chaffing at rules and expectations. Melinoe drifted until she was head-height with Hecate, listening to the sounds of the nighttime.
Suddenly, in the distance, there were bloodcurdling screams – the desperate cries of men. The priests had neglected to pray to Hecate when they thought they recognised her power, and now they were paying for it; Hecate didn't like being dismissed by mortal men.
Melinoe delighted in the sound.
"Please teach me auntie!" she demanded with a delighted clap of her hands.
By the light of the moon, Hecate taught her the fundamentals of raising Shades in Zeus's realm. As she tutored the princess, the screeches of the mortals petered out into gargles and wheezing.
Melinoe cocked her head to the stars.
"Death is near," she said, nonchalant. "The Shade killed him?"
"He died of fright, perhaps," Hecate shrugged. "Some old mortals are fragile. I've never known male priests to be strong."
They felt Thanatos's scythe sever the life away in a flash. Hecate's teaching continued until Eos started her climb and the inky sky changed colour. Melinoe watched the dawn grow with a strange expression on her face.
Hecate raised her hand and brought her power to bear – the Shade was put to rest, following Death back down to the Underworld.
"Time for us to leave," Hecate noted. But the princess floated away, looking over the hill.
"I think I'll go see my brother."
The goddess had no power to dissuade the willful Melinoe, so pinched the princess's cheek and vanished into the earth with the last of the night.
Melinoe drifted with the wind up into the clouds, watching the mortals begin their day. Sunlight didn't suit Melinoe – it made her bones shine like the precious gemstones in her father's realm and bleached her skin, making her eyes look milky-white as they adjusted to the brightness. But fortunately, Zagreus shared a lot of his time with Dionysus, and the god of wine and revelry enjoyed darker, gloomier places to bring about his festivities. As she sailed in the air, she heard Dionysus's party before she saw the groves. There was music, shouts of laughter and screams of those sacrificing their sanity deep in the cups of their lord. Grape wines tangled and weaved between the branches of the grove, almost writhing with the god's power.
The groves were cooler and a great deal darker. Dionysus hid his parties from anyone he thought interfering, or busybodies who would go tattling to his divine father. Melinoe didn't fall into either category – his companions welcomed her as a familiar face.
In the thickest part of the grove Dionysus's vines wove a tapestry of greenery against the sunlight. Candles burnt in the arms of trees, and Dionysus's women beat a great circle into the earth with their dances. As they crossed the circle and swirled around again, Melinoe put her feet to the earth and spotted the table where their god dined, with her brother at his left side.
Amid so many people, especially so many who had abandoned any kind of restraint or reason, she was an odd figure. Melinoe felt a little lost in a sea of stained mouths, purple tongues and the scent of wine mixed with sweat. Alcohol didn't hold any appeal to her yet (she had taken a sip once without her brother noticing and promptly spat it onto the grass) and neither did the mindless gaiety she saw happening all around her. But her brother always had time for her.
"Hey ho, the little ghost-girl!" Dionysus laughed and raised his cup to her. She gave him a grin in return. Zagreus left the deity's side to greet her and throw an arm protectively around her shoulders.
"How long have you been standing here?" he asked. Melinoe gave him a shrug.
"A few minutes?"
"Ah," some expression flickered on his face and Melinoe, well-trained by Hecate in watching the intrigues of others, knew it to be relief.
"What have you been doing, Zag?"
He waved it aside and sat her at a table piled high with food. The dancers spun around them both, singing in deep throaty voices about the spring.
"This place is going to get wild…" Zagreus cleared his throat. "Wilder, I mean. What brings you here?"
Melinoe told him about Hecate showing her how to raise the dead, and how the priests had mistaken her for Hecate but failed to show proper respect. Zagreus just listened, shaking his head and smiling at her. If there was one thing she loved about her brother, it was his ability to always listen to her.
"Hecate's certainly clever," Zagreus plucked a pear from a fruit basket and gave it to her. "Sounds like she's got a little apprentice now!"
He tweaked her nose, and she stuck her tongue out.
"I suppose you had better get back to your training, little goddess," he told her. "I'm sure Hecate has many other things to show you."
Melinoe sighed; she knew a dismissal when she heard one. But her brother always gave her little allowances – she didn't want to be a burden to him.
"Will you visit soon?" she asked him. No one had told her Zagreus's reservations towards the Underworld, but she knew he didn't often take dinner with them. In the way of younger siblings, she didn't question it – it was simply the way things were, just like the way Macaria was the true heir of her father even though Zagreus was his only son. She'd heard he had his own palace on Mount Olympus instead, and wondered what it was like there.
"Maybe," he gave her a look that was a little melancholy, but she had faith that the party would set him right. Dionysus cared about her brother and often cheered him up. Melinoe blew him a kiss, waved her farewell to Dionysus and stepped into the shadows, willing them to take her to the gates of the Underworld. Zagreus's answering wave faded into the distance.
The grey monochrome between the realms was a familiar playpen for Melinoe. She whistled as the Gates opened at her touch and flew up to scratch Cerberus under his many chins. But their pet was on duty and so she left him to his work as the Shades milled between his haunches. As she sailed higher over Cerberus's head, the Shades far below her cringed in fear. She skipped over the queue to the ferryman, flying high above the dead with her arms outstretched. Charon offered her a little bow as she passed, and she looped back to wave at him. Charon always let her have some fun with her ghosts, even though it could technically get him into trouble.
Home – the House of Hades. In all her trips to Zeus's realm, she had seen nothing that could rival it for beauty or splendor. Only Elysium and the Isle's secrets held more magnificence, and it was not to Melinoe's tastes the way that the dark decadence of the rivers were. In the contrary way of sisters, she both was proud of her sister's domain and bitter that she didn't have anything of her own to equal it yet. But her father's House, with its grand halls and its stately appearance, she adored without reservation.
And her mother was home! Melinoe alighted at the doorway and watched the servants jump to admit her. Trailing through the House, she made her way to the fireside where her mother sat writing.
"Mum! Mum!" Melinoe raced to her mother and Persephone moved the book she was working on for her youngest child to collapse into her lap. Wrapped up in the queen's arms by the fireside, Melinoe told her about her day, and that she'd started to learn some of Hecate's arts in Zeus's realm. Her mother gave a little surprised chuckle and pulled her close.
"You're getting so big!" Persephone sighed. "Soon I won't be able to fit you on my lap."
Melinoe grinned. She liked the idea of getting her ascendancy as soon as possible, being a goddess in full. She pictured summoning a whole party of ghosts to fly with her through the night, scaring the mortals on the ground.
"Will I be as tall as Thanatos, do you think?" Melinoe craved the ability to stare Death in the eye. She liked his brooding manner and the way that he didn't care if she watched him work, as long as she didn't interrupt or get seen by the soon-to-be deceased.
Persephone shook her head. "We'll have to wait and see."
Her daughter just pouted – waiting was not in her nature. It made the goddess laugh and point to the reflection of them both in the mirror. Persephone was all grace – long hair trailing down her back in a doe-brown river, her shimmering gold dress highlighted by the fire, her caramel skin gleaming in the light. Melinoe was as pale as death, half of her creamy and warmed by the firelight, the other half glinting and skeletal. Her black hair was a mess, her dark eyes dangerous and wild.
What will I look like when I have my own title, my own place, my own power?
As though she'd spoken aloud, Persephone gave a gentle smile to their reflection.
"You will be incredible," her mother promised her, "something unique to all realms."
Melinoe basked in her mother's praise and embrace for a time, but she could never be still for long. There were too many things to see, to explore. Persephone understood and kissed the little princess's forehead before her daughter left to roam the Underworld.
Thanatos's brother Hypnos was skulking around the House. Melinoe often liked to follow him, down past the shores to the place where he and Morpheus worked. Morpheus and his siblings would emerge from their own House, and trail down towards two gates – one of horn and one of ivory. These gates held a fascination to Melinoe, as they weren't really there in the way that the Gates of the Underworld were. They were a link to the minds and dreams of mortals and immortals alike but also a realm of their own – the realm of dreams. It sat within the Underworld in the same way Elysium did – like a small box hidden in a larger box that connected far beyond the realm of her father. Melinoe liked to sit on the hill and watch Morpheus pass through the gate on the left, while his siblings rushed through the gate on the right, the one made of ivory. Their mother Pasithea would sometimes come by and wish them well in their work, looking dream-like herself in a white gauzy dress that floated much as Melinoe could. The goddess always had a gravity and peacefulness about her that her children didn't have and Melinoe certainly didn't possess, but the little princess enjoyed watching her bless her children and wish them well in their work.
Sometimes Morpheus wouldn't have a job to do straight away and could sit with her for a little while. He liked to show her dreams. He'd hold them between his hands like cupped water so she could tilt her head until she could glimpse the visions he was going to give someone, at the will of the gods. He could make such pretty pictures so vividly that Melinoe understood why dreaming held such an attraction to mortals.
But it was Phobeter, the god of nightmares, that fascinated Melinoe the most. He had unintentionally inspired in her the desire to frighten mortals, especially those who were disrespectful. He told her that they would naturally fear her skeletal half, for anything resembling human that was not a human was horrifying to them. She often wore similar clothes to the long, dark robes he preferred before changing his shape in dreams to inspire dread but had the sleeves short, to show her bones to full advantage. He had a wicked grin when he told her of the types of things he'd brought into nightmares.
Phobeter was also the one who had no fear in leading the princess to meet some of the less reputable deities of the Underworld. With him, she had met Nemesis (a stern-looking woman, haughty with the pride of retribution, who often went about armed), Eris (a chaotic, bug-eyed goddess who delighted in strike and discord) and Moros (the god of doom was a huge, hulking giant who seldom said a word but looked about with damning eyes) in their little altars strewn about the Underworld. For someone who inspired so much terror, he seemed to possess no fear himself – even the wrath of her father when he found out who his daughter had been visiting didn't seem to make him hesitate. Wild, always craving excitement, Phobeter always had some sort of scheme to appeal to Melinoe's boldness and craving for novelty.
But when she followed Hypnos from the House, it was to discover that he was really only catching up with his most recent crush (at the moment, it was Iris who was definitely pretty but held no interest for Melinoe). Melinoe left the clandestine couple and instead wandered down to the gates into the realm of dreams, wondering. She stood on the hill overlooking them both, her eyes scrunched up with concentration.
"Sorry princess, they're not for you."
Melinoe knew that voice and gave a huge sigh. It was a subtle, unrelenting voice – gentle and stern all at once. Only her father could manage such a tone and only he would instinctively know what she had been considering. Sometimes she was convinced Hades could read her mind.
Hades's hand was gentle on her shoulder.
"Not yet, anyway," he gave her a look. "Maybe one day."
It took all her self-control not to stamp her little foot, but she managed it.
"I can summon ghosts and raise the Shades from the Underworld!" Melinoe argued, although she had yet to try to raise the dead herself. "I'll be fine!"
Her father picked her up and carried her away. Melinoe sulked and turned her face into his chest but the god just laughed.
"My fearless one," he chuckled, "the dreams of sleepers aren't ready for you."
Placated, the princess let herself be carried back into the House without protest. The King of the Underworld was a steadying force in her life, the rock the little princess went to with all her questions and worries. She liked that her father was both the impressive lordly figure that inspired dread in the mortals and the god who laughed as she hovered around his horses as he rode, praising her speed and her bravery.
"Daddy, why are the mortals so scared of us?" she wondered aloud. "Phobeter said they won't even say your name?"
Hades let her down gently and beckoned her towards his study.
"You know, your sister asked me something very much the same," Hades said, and watched as the comparison to Macaria made his other daughter pout with displeasure. "Mortals tend to both fear and respect me, and this realm. But their terror lies in things that they do not comprehend, thus beings like you and I frighten them, even long after Death comes for them."
"I don't understand."
Hades called for some scrolls he had been seeing to earlier and the servants ducked away to obey his commands. "You will. You are bright and curious, Melinoe. When you see a little more of the realms, you will understand."
The princess stored the compliment away with a smile. Another naiad drew near, bowing low to her father and to her.
"Prince Zagreus is here," the servant announced.
Melinoe bolted for the doorway but to her chagrin, Macaria materialized first at her brother's side. The younger princess had to watch, scowling, as her elder sister ordered dinner in her palace in Elysium for the family. The Lampades, those shining golden servants strictly for her sister's use, shone and disappeared.
The tension between Macaria and Melinoe stemmed a little from the fact that they were almost opposite in all ways. Melinoe was frantic for her sister's approval but also repulsed by any kind of closeness or comparison to her. They both resembled their father but Macaria was white, sparkling, regal whereas Melinoe was feral, frightening and gloomy. Their parents suspected that it would always this way between the two of them, given their natures (Melinoe had heard Hades and Persephone remarking on it many times with some amusement).
Macaria noticed her standing there after a moment.
"Melly, you'll join us too, won't you?" Macaria was every inch the gracious host, her hand outstretched to her little sister to transport the three of them. But her sister knew she hated the nickname 'Melly' and used it on purpose. Melinoe set her jaw.
"Yes, but I'll get there myself," the princess insisted.
"As you like," Zagreus grinned then he and Macaria winked out of existence, shimmering through the shadows together to the Isle.
Hades and Persephone agreed that they would attend the dinner also, but in the way of parents they had things they needed to finish first. Alone again, flying through the darkness over hissing water, Melinoe waited until she could hear the golden bells of Elysium and saw the shining entrance herself. Without the help of any of the Lampades she pushed the gates open with her own hands and walked into the Isle.
One day, she thought, studying the beauty around her, this will be the most important realm anywhere. It will be us, and the ghosts and the dead that will rule everything, not the Lord of the Skies high up on the mountaintop.
She strode down the paths of marble up to the temple of her sister.
I'll run the mortals into the ground, she thought. I'll whisper nightmares into their ears until they can't sleep any sleep. One day, the realm of Zeus will just be another realm of the dead.
Ambition burning through her, Melinoe raced up the steps of the temple to the main atrium, where a table was set out for the feast. Macaria and Zagreus sat together at one end, trying to convince Thanatos to dine with them. Macaria had a hand on the tiny swell of her belly and a special smile for Death. She had announced their baby shortly after their nuptials half a year ago. The two had been inseparable ever since.
One day, Melinoe thought half-hidden by a gleaming pillar. We will sit as equals. I'll be as strong as both of them and as feared as my father.
Hades and Persephone arrived, arm in arm, as Thanatos relented and sat at Macaria's side, his scythe vanishing to continue his work. The Lampades bowed low and poured wine for her parents.
"Melinoe?" Persephone called. "We're all here."
The last daughter of Hades, the little princess who would be renowned for the ghosts and specters that would haunt mortals for centuries to come, stepped from the darkness into the bright light of Elysium. Melinoe eyed the table of her family and her resolve grew. Five powerful deities saw her and bid her welcome, urging her to join them and enjoy the feast at their side – the king of the Underworld, the queen that crossed two realms to save humanity, the ruler of Elysium growing with child, enduring Death himself and the prince of Mysteries and rebirth. All of them legends – all of them family. Their bright faces, glowing with divinity, all looked towards her.
One day, Melinoe promised herself as she took her seat at the table. When I have my power, we will rule it all.
