Rocking, rocking, rocking my raft of bone and leather,
It lulls me drifting peacefully into eternal slumber.
But when I climbed aboard, I did not know of Hades tricks,
No one told my tired soul this was the River Styx.
The first time Zagreas died, he was scared of what happens next. After hundreds of deaths, however, he knows the worst thing that can happen to a soul when it dies is go to Hell. Lucky for him he was born in Hell, what's the difference dying into it?
"What was it this time, Zag?" Hypnos asked through a muffled yawn, "Meg? a skelly? trip on a rock?"
Zagreas shook the blood from his hair, careful not to get any on the carpets, "guess."
Hypnos put his hand to his chin, feigning thoughtfulness, "it was the rock, wasn't it?"
"A big rock," Zagreas winked and made his leave, he was anxious to try his escape again.
This last time was closer than the last 57 tries, that had to be a good sign, right? He passed Nyx in the hall on his way to his room, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Nyx grabbed his hand before he could slip by, "you should take a break," her voice rang with the concern only a mother is capable of, "your father is growing more and more impatient, I fear he may soon act irationally." Zagreas held his adoptive mother's hands in his, "I live in Hell," he smiled, "what's a worse punishment than that?" Nyx placed a gentle hand on Zagreas' face, "your father is meeting with the Olympians," she whispered, "be careful." Zagreas let Nyx's words ruminate in the air before offering a meek smile, "I will," he promised, "be careful, I mean."
Zagreas knew his father could be cruel but he was confident he wouldn't sell out his only son to the gods. Would he?