Hermes gazed steadily at the mortal-gods, watching their expressions twist in fear. Had he been any other god, he would have been pleased by their terror. But he wasn't. Seeing them stare at him as if he would end them made him feel strange. A sense of power tickled his mind, but he had no desire to give in to it. He had been around the gods long enough to see what happened when somebody was drunk with power. And a promise that he'd made as a child floated to his mind. He had sworn to himself that he would never be like them. And now, hundreds of years later, he had remained true to his word. Something else the others rarely did, he mused.
The silence was interrupted by a portal opening. Autolycus came through first, escorting a middle-aged woman. She had the same dark eyes as Ambrose, but her hair was reddish-blonde with streaks of silvery-grey. She was much too thin and her features were careworn, as if she'd had the weight of the world on her shoulders for years. When she saw Ambrose, she broke away from Autolycus and hurried over. Ambrose set aside his half-full plate and stood, catching her as she fell into his arms.
"Is it true?" she asked, her voice wavering as tears burned her eyes. "Is what that young man said true? Will one of those monsters truly bring back Ambrogio?"
Ambrose smoothed his mother's hair down and shrugged. "It is not so simple, Mother. But Hermes said he will try, and that is all he can do."
Her face pinched and she looked around, anger blazing from her black eyes. "Hermes? How could he possibly have any power? He is a nobody compared to Ares. Who is his father? What power does he have?"
Ambrose paused then looked up apologetically at Hermes. "I'm sorry, Hermes. She… She…"
Hermes smiled and stood, handing his plate to Autolycus. "It's alright, Ambrose. She believes that because it is what I have been. But perhaps not any longer." The blue god walked over and bowed low to the woman. "Hello, dear woman. May I ask your name?"
The woman broke away from her son and stared defiantly at Hermes. "I am Nahia. And your kind should die."
Hermes threw his head back and laughed. "Bold woman! I agree completely. Gods are too powerful, and they're entirely selfish. But I strive to be different, and I hope that you will pardon me. I didn't choose to be born a god, you know."
That response seemed to puzzle Nahia, and she pursed her lips and tilted her head as she studied him. "I suppose nobody chooses to be born," she finally said. "But who are you?"
Hermes's smile faded, and he glanced over at the mortal-gods. Zeus and Hera looked at him as if he were a stranger, and perhaps he was, at least to them. Turning back to Nahia, Hermes spoke honestly.
"I am the bastard son of Zeus," he said plainly. "My mother is Maia, one of the Pleiades, one of the relations to the nymphs. She was raped by Zeus, and I was conceived and born in less than a day. I grew up with my mother in the forests with the nymphs. Hera, Zeus's wife, was incredibly jealous that her husband was unfaithful, but instead of punishing him, she wanted to punish my mother and me. She tried to kill my mother on several occasions, and I was safe only because of the nymphs.
"Because of Hera's jealousy and rage, she ostracized me when I finally moved to Olympus. Through her spite, she made my life a terrible thing, and she incited the other gods and goddesses to treat me cruelly. I was beaten, lied to, abused, torn down, and belittled for a hundred years. Then I went down into Hades and stole water from the Pool of Forgetfulness, mixed my blood with it, and served it to the gods inside their nectar. They forgot all about me except what I wanted them to remember and I became their messenger, the lowest god there was, just to have some modicum of respect amongst them. I was still considered lowly, but I was needed. Though that didn't stop them from hurting my children.
"Pan, the satyr who came to your house, was my firstborn. His mother was punished by Apollo for refusing to have sex with him, and she was permanently turned into a tree. My second-born was Autolycus, and then his sister Angelia, both from a mortal woman named Chione. She was raped by Ares and committed suicide in shame because she couldn't face me. My next child was Tyche, then Hermaphroditus, both from Aphrodite, who made me drunk with wine and passion. She scorned them once she grew tired of me."
Hermes paused, refusing to look anywhere except for Nahia's face. He didn't want to see the triumph on the gods' faces, that sweet knowledge that they had so thoroughly pleased Hera. Nahia's eyes were wide with shock, and she looked at his children one by one before her gaze returned to his face. Hermes took a deep breath.
"I refuse to be like them. And I cannot promise that I can lift the curse. But I will try, Nahia. I understand how you feel. I've lost two lovers, and the third used me."
Nahia studied him then nodded once. "You have been wronged far more than I have."
"True," Hermes replied quietly. "But that doesn't mean you aren't in pain or angry at what happened to your husband."
Nahia softened then turned to Autolycus. "You may go and get the satyr. Be careful with my husband."
Autolycus nodded then turned and hurried through the portal. A few minutes later, Pan came through, cradling a thin, frail form to his chest. Autolycus followed and closed the portal, his expression grim. Hermes took control immediately. He formed a raised platform from the earth, and it was as smooth as marble and soft as heather. Pan gingerly set the frail man on the platform then stepped back, his green eyes full of angry tears.
"Herc?" Hermes said quietly. "Triton?"
Hercules and his cousin hurried to stand in front of him. The demigod's expression was pained as he looked at the wreck this poor man had become. Triton couldn't even look at the mortal, and he stood with his arms crossed, staring at the ground and fighting back tears.
"Yeah, Hermes?" Hercules asked, struggling to speak past the lump in his throat.
"Go. Get. Ares. And. Zeus."
Hercules and Triton didn't hesitate. They turned and strode over to the mortal-gods. Hercules pulled a knife from his belt and slashed through the ropes connecting Zeus to Hera and the others. Triton went for Ares, doing the same thing. They left the others bound as they hauled the two to their feet. They staggered, their feet and legs numb from lack of blood flow.
"Hercules!" Zeus yelped, nearly falling. "Please!"
Hercules and Triton ignored their whines and pleas. They were too angry to feel compassion. They jerked the two mortal-gods forward and shoved them to the ground in front of Hermes. Hermes stared at them coolly.
"Stand up," he commanded, his voice icy.
The two mortal-gods struggled to their feet, quivering from head to toe as they gazed fearfully at Hermes. Hermes didn't back away from their stares, as he had so often done as their messenger. Instead, his silver eyes met theirs defiantly. Then he pointed at Ambrogio.
"Look at him." They didn't obey, and Hermes began to glow silvery blue. His voice thundered out, a command that nearly deafened them. "Look at him!"
They shrank back from Hermes and quickly looked at the man they had cursed. His limbs were atrophied, withered from disuse. His body was thin and emaciated from starvation and dehydration. But they could tell from the slow, steady rise and fall of the mortal's chest that he was alive. They had never seen such a pathetic soul in all their lives, and they couldn't take it and looked away.
"No!" Hermes roared. "Look at him! Look at what you did to this mortal, Ares! Look at what you allowed, Zeus! And remember why you did this! Do you remember, O Ares, bringer of wars? All because you wanted red meat! Fish wasn't good enough! You have millions of pounds of meat given to you every single year! You didn't need this family to feed your insatiable lust for meat! But you, you foul, heartless monster, cursed this mortal because you had to have more! I'm going to tell you something, Ares! You don't need more! You have everything, and you didn't work a single day in your life to get it. You do nothing but fight with Athena and start wars that kill thousands of people! You should be forced to work for your food! Then maybe you'll understand what mortals go through!"
Hermes was flushed with rage, his eyes flashing like lightning. His teeth were bared in a snarl, and he was gasping for breath. Ares and Zeus cowered away from him, more terrified than they had ever been before. Hermes sneered then took a deep breath and steadied himself. He looked first at Ambrose then Nahia, then he looked at the poor man in front of him. With trembling hands, he reached down and touched the man's forehead. His skin was like parchment, thin and almost gone. He let out his air then spoke in a loud voice.
"I, Hermes, King of Olympus, command that this mortal be returned to his rightful state! There shall be no more curse to afflict him or his family ever again!"
Blue fire erupted from Hermes's hands, and even he yelled and jumped back. The flames engulfed the mortal, and for one horrifying moment, Hermes thought he had just killed the poor man. Then the fire dissipated, and there he was. Ambrogio sat up, his flesh a ruddy color, his form filled out with muscle from years of working in the sun. His hair was flecked with grey, but his bewildered green eyes landed on his wife and he blinked stupidly at her.
"Nahia?" he asked. "Where am I?" He turned to Ambrose and he goggled. "Ambrose? Is that you, son? You've grown up!"
"Papa!" Ambrose screeched, and he flung his arms around the man. Ambrogio embraced him, but he still looked confused. Then his eyes landed on Hermes. He pushed at his son.
"It's a god," he hissed, panic in his tone.
Ambrose pulled back and grinned, looking for a moment like a boy again. He wiped his eyes and smiled at Hermes. "He's a good god, Papa. He brought you back to us."
Hermes made a low bow, his silver eyes sparkling. "Welcome back to the land of the living. You've missed a lot. Ambrose and Nahia will fill you in."
Ambrose's smile wilted as he looked at the mortal-gods. "What about them?" he asked, a dark edge in his voice.
Hermes turned to appraise them. "Hercules? Triton? Do you still think I should punish them?"
The mortal-gods faces turned ashen, but they couldn't even find their voices to plead with him. Zeus and Ares scrambled away and stood shaking by those who were still bound. Hercules and Triton stared at them, watching their wide eyes and shaking heads, begging for mercy. But they had none to give for them, not even their parents.
"Yes," they both said. Hercules added, "Within reason."
Hermes thought for a moment then grinned. His face flushed with glee and he began to laugh. The mortal-gods watched warily. Ambrose frowned.
"What have you thought of?" he asked.
"I've already said it!" Hermes exclaimed. "And it will be perfect! Just the thing to get through to them, to give them a taste of their own medicine!"
Hercules and Triton shared a bemused glance. Then Hercules tapped him. "Hermes? Mind sharing?"
Hermes tugged his brother and cousin over and whispered to them. Ambrose leaned in and listened. When Hermes was done, Ambrose crowed with delight.
"Yes! Yes! Perfect!"
"Are you two in agreement?" Hermes asked, glancing from Hercules to Triton.
They looked at each other then Triton nodded. "I think that'll do it."
"Agreed," Hercules replied.
"Then it's settled!" Hermes said. He turned to the mortal-gods with a wicked grin. They waited, dread in their hearts. "I, Hermes, King of Olympus, decree that you, the gods of Olympus turned mortal, must behave as mortals for a whole year! Starting from now, you will have no special privileges. You shall offer weekly sacrifices to me and my children while trying to live as a mortal. We shall give you a starting supply of materials, and with them, you will build a farm and a house and raise livestock. You shall offer four pounds of fish, two lambs, a basket of apples, and four gallons of wine a week." He paused, his eyes glinting, as hard as steel. "Let's see how you like it," he practically purred.
Hermes took in their looks of horror, but he didn't want to hear them complain. So as soon as they registered their fate for the next year, he turned to his children.
"Let's get these brave men home. Then we'll gather the materials."
They all began to bustle, and Zeus finally spoke, his voice angry.
"It's not fair!"
Hercules turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Hey, at least he's giving you materials to start out with. You wouldn't have given anybody that luxury."
And then he turned away from his mother and father and strode toward the warriors with Triton. And that blow, seeing their beloved son walk away from them without a backward glance, was the blow that broke their spirits. And the gods resigned themselves to live as mortals for a whole year. It wasn't a pleasant thought. But for the first time in their lives, they had no choice in the matter.