It seemed that the two young girls weren't the only ones plagued by uncertainty.
Hercules' mind was reeling as he sailed through the sea of night stars atop Pegasus, their destination fast approaching.
It had been routine ever since he'd first discovered his true birthright as a teenager, to visit the infamous temple of the mighty God, Zeus, his biological father. Theses nightly meetings consisted of; sharing events of the day, and seeking fatherly advice. Which what was exactly on his mind for quite some time.
While he had discussed his troubles and concerns with Torrin, but sometimes it helped to seek out multiple points of advise.
The temple structure soon came into view. Considering the time of night it was, there were no worshippers present, no distressed farmers pleading for a successful harvest come spring, and no childless couples seeking furtility.
The winged beast's glossy white coat seemed to almost glow from the reflected light of the ice cold, full moon. He landed soundlessly outside the columned entrance, out of respect and reverence.
Within the structure, an intimidating and renouned stone-figure, reaching nearly to the open ceiling in height, sat quietly upon his throne.
The hero dismounted his steed and approached the monstrous, bearded statue.

"Good evening, father."

A forceful gust of wind pressed against his back. Torches and braziers throughout the room were suddenly brought to life with a spark, engulfing the entire space with a fiery light.
The seemingly lifeless figure's eyes pried open with the sound of grinding stones. The presence of Zeus temporarily resided within the stone likeness.

"Hercules, my boy!" The god's booming voice echoed throughout the chamber. "I saw your heroic deeds this morning against the Harpies. Congratulations, my son!"

Hercules smiled at his father's praise. But it was not wholehearted.

Zeus sensed his troubled spirit. "Is there something wrong?"

He nodded. "Maybe...I don't know."

"Well, come now, spit it out."

Hercules shuffled his feet, feeling extremely awkward. "Remember the girl I've been telling you about?"

The statue nodded. "Ah yes, the auburn haired foreigner. Have you won her over yet?" He hedged and winked.
"Not really...no."

Zeus slammed the armrests of his throne with his rock hands. "And why not? You're my boy, after all. You may not know it but I was once quite the ladies man in my youth. If your mother hadn't captured my heart and tamed my manner..."
He gave a wry chuckle, which sounded like the hollow echo from a deep well, coming from the throat of the statue.

Hercules rolled his eyes. His immortal father often liked to brag of his exploits, whether past or present. Though his mother had quite a different story concerning their courtship, But that was entirely beside the point. He was beginning to think that that going to his father was not such an inspired idea after all.

"So you would naturally inherit these attributes from me. Which is why I cannot understand your difficulty in wooing this particular girl."

"It's not that simple, father", Herc complained. "Meg's just not impressed by any of my accomplishments." He cupped a hand to his chin. "Perhaps that is what I find most intriguing about her..."

"Ah", exclaimed Zeus. "The thrill of pursuit."

Herc shook his head. "No, father. I believe this is much more than just a passing infatuation. When Meg's life was in danger...I was willing to do anything to save her...even give my own life."

Zeus was slightly taken aback. Hercules had never expressed such sentiments. Perhaps he had truly fallen in love. "What draws you to her?"

Hercules didn't have to think long. "She's smart, brave, funny, loyal...she's just simply amazing."

Zeus nodded. "Then the only advise I can give to you, my son, is to continue to respect the young women. And if you're meant to be together, it will work out. Keep up the good work!"
With that, the statue once again became as it was, silent as stone.

The flames that lit the temple extinguished. The young hero groaned, still as unsure of what he should do as he was when he confronted his father, emotionally exhausted.
With the lull of sleep calling him home, he finally turned to his faithful companion and, together, headed back to the Villa.

...

In the dead of the night, when light-treaders retreat to the safety of their beds. This was when the shapers of evil worked in bulk.
The two pint-sized birds slowly weaved through the darkness toward their destination. Pain and Panic's humiliating shape was for the sole purpose of camaflauge, despite the fact that their mission of tactical espionage had failed.
Hades would not be pleased.
Finally landing upon the shores of the river Styx, the duo reverted back into their original forms, breathing heavily due to their strenuous journey. Not to mention their certain upcoming punishment.

"Is it just me", Pain began, regaining his breath, "Or is it a lot easier to fly when we're birds?"

"Duh", Panic drolled. "Haven't you ever heard of thermodynamics?"

"No. And neither have you", his purple protege countered. "You've just been listening to Julius' banter about the future for so long you think you're some kind of know-it-all now."

Panic sniffed indignantly. "Well, maybe you could learn a think or two yourself if you paid more attention to factors other than your gut!" He poked a sharp claw into Pain's fleshy abdomen.

"Look who's talking, 'Mr Neurotic'."

While in the midst of their argument, they failed to notice the presence of their volatile superior. Without warning, a wall of intense flame erupted between the unsuspecting Imps, causing the two to jump apart in the explosion.
Hades watched as his minions ran about, frantically patting out the flames that threatened to scorch their scaly bodies.

"Evening, boys", grunted the red-faced God. "Nice night for a barbeque, eh?"

At his will, an apron with the words, 'Kill the cook' scrawled across the front, appeared over his billowing tunic. Along with a spatula that he clutched tightly in his fist, slowly melting. The hot metal oozing between his claws and dripping upon the brimstone.
"Perhaps you could postpone your petty argument...AND DELIVER THE GOODS!"

The pitiful creatures cowered at their master's violent temperament.

"Did you discover which of the ceinuritas is our boy's descendant?"

The Imps's growing silence told him everything he needed to know.
Their beedy eyes shifted nervously between the other and to the towering doom before them, positive that they'd pissed off their boss for the last time. They shut their eyes, awaiting their plunge into the swirling vortex.
Surprisingly, the short-tempered God took some slow, steady breaths, his color returning to its normal gray pallor.

When the Imps realized that they were not being incinerated, they took a cautionary peek.

Pain dared to ask, "You're...not mad?"

Hades threw a casual wave. "Mad? For what reason should I be mad? This is only the umpteenth time you two have messed-up a simple assignment. I should be use to it by now."
He clasped his hands tightly behind his back and turned his back to them, as if taking in the luxurious view of the numerous craters of the Underworld.
"I'm only trying to claim rule over the future world by manipulating control over time itself. The elemental key to Julius' submission is within my grasp. But can you even uncover her identity?..."

With speed only credited to a God, Hades turned on a dime, bursting into volcanic flames, his face in theirs.

"NO!"

Pain and Panic's reaction was obvious. Their midget frames trembled and shook, threatening to rattle their skeletal forms.
It took what little patience he possessed to back off, drawing himself to full height.

"No. No, I will not descintegrate you. If only because you're too stupid, even for self preservation."

They graciously groveled at his cloudy robes. "Oh thank you, boss!" The daemons cried in one accord. "No one is as merciful as you."

The God's pallor threatened to overheat once more, retreating from his minions grimy claws.

"Don't you ever repeat such sentiments!"
"You got it, boss", they saluted.

Hades groaned. "The threat of Julius' wife is no longer concerns him. He believes her soul is safe. That is why I need a living victim. Though he's never seen his granddaughter, he's sure to see through a rouse. Morals have this sick sense of recognizing their own kin. So just find her so we can move on."