BONDING WITH THE DEVIL
Her entire body felt heavy. She was exhausted. She opened her eyes and immediately recognized the ceiling of her room. Her room—how strange it sounded to say that this room in the underworld was now her room.
She tried to sit up when she noticed a couple of weights on the bed, and saw that Pain and Panic were sleeping by her legs, so she slowly shifted to avoid disturbing or waking them.
The girl almost let out a scream when she realized that, right next to the bed, sitting on a kind of throne, was the lord of the dead himself. But, like the two little demons, he was asleep; he looked peaceful. Even though he had an intimidating appearance, seeing him this way made it seem like he had never harmed a soul. Even though it seemed like he was a good guy.
She managed to sit up completely and lean against the wall. She noticed her left hand was bandaged. Erianthe remembered that she had cut it on the rock. Fortunately, it didn't hurt much. She sighed, realizing she was still alive, though she could have ended up in the vortex's waters and died.
At that moment, she thought of her family. The drawing of her family and the medallion caught her eye as she surveyed her bedside table, so she picked them up. She wanted to see them and be with them again. She held the objects to her chest, as if she were hugging them, and couldn't help but get emotional thinking about them, thinking she would never see them again. A few tears slipped down her cheeks.
"What a crybaby I am," Eri thought.
"If you keep crushing that scroll, you're going to end up tearing it. And you're crying again? Are you a drama queen?"
The girl jumped. She hadn't expected Hades to be awake, watching her with a bored expression, his head resting on one hand.
"Damn it, Hades! You scared me —don't do that again! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Eri was startled. Her expression had instantly shifted from teary to irritated.
"If you died of a heart attack, I'd be genuinely disappointed," replied the god with a mocking smile.
"You're insufferable," the girl retorted.
"Thank you." The god kept smiling. He loved how easy she was to get riled up. "She looks so adorable," he thought to himself, quickly dismissing the idea. Hades, don't get sappy.
Erianthe looked at him, momentarily speechless. Then she noticed she wasn't wearing the tunic from earlier that morning but her pajamas. Had Hades undressed her?
The lord of the dead, noticing how the girl's face shifted to one of complete embarrassment, guessed what was likely running through her mind.
"None of us put you in your pajamas. Agapios took care of it; he bandaged your hand and checked that everything was fine. By the way, he mentioned you're gaining weight — you're close to reaching your goal."
"Oh, good…" Eri sighed in relief, though it was still audible to the god's sharp ears.
"What, did you think I was some kind of pervert?" he asked, exasperated.
Erianthe gave him a look that said, That's precisely what I was thinking. Though, in truth, she couldn't quite picture Hades being that type of god. Still, she didn't know him well enough to trust him completely.
Hades sighed, feeling tired. It was only natural for her not to trust him — it was natural for no one to trust him. He was used to it… though he wished she might give him a chance. He noticed how she still clutched the medallion and squeezed that piece of parchment, which had clearly seen better days.
"Why did you decide to bring that medallion and drawing to the Underworld?" Hades asked without thinking. He had seen them on her bedside table the first day and had been curious.
Eri looked at him in surprise, then smiled slightly. She placed those treasures on her lap, gazing at them nostalgically, for they truly were her treasures.
"One is a promise," Eri said, holding the medallion in her right hand, "and the other is a memory, something I don't want to forget."
Although her hand was bandaged, she managed to hold the parchment firmly, looking at the drawing of her family back when they were still all together.
Hades watched her. He knew these objects didn't have much material value — well, the medallion was gold and forged by none other than the god of the forge, Hephaestus. But he understood that their true value was sentimental.
"Let me see that drawing." Even though Hades had seen it before, he wanted to look at it again. Eri hesitantly handed it to him, still remembering what had happened to her last creation.
"I swear, I'm not going to burn it. I just want to take a look."
As he looked at the parchment once more, he realized the image seemed familiar — it was the same one he'd seen on the tapestry in Meg's room. He had to admit the girl had real skill, and the soul of that man from the Styx had been right. Erianthe had an undeniable, natural talent.
"Honestly, you draw very well," the god said.
"Th-thanks, but it's not one of my best drawings. I made it when I was about ten or eleven," Eri replied with a faint smile.
"Really? You were drawing like this even back then?" Hades was genuinely surprised; the girl had an impressive talent.
"My latest drawing was much better, but someone burned it." The god took the hint, knowing he'd been the one who'd destroyed it that night in a fit of anger. His temper was well known. Still, he wanted to see how she'd improved, so he conjured up a set of drawing materials.
"Draw me. Then we'll see if you've gotten any better. What do you say?" Hades challenged her with a teasing smile, daring Meg's daughter to show her skills.
Erianthe was surprised. She wasn't expecting Hades to be interested in her art, but she jumped at the chance and got to work drawing the deity, who was already posing for the portrait.
She found herself enjoying it. His angular features and his flame-like hair were fascinating, and though she wasn't used to drawing fire, she felt she'd captured it well.
Hades, for his part, couldn't stop watching her. She was already beautiful, lighting up every room she entered, but seeing her so focused, pushing her hair back sometimes so it wouldn't get in her way, was utterly mesmerizing. And here she was, in her pajamas with messy hair, yet to him, she was the embodiment of beauty.
He couldn't help but think of the moment he'd held her at the edge of the vortex, and especially when she'd said, I won't let go of you or I can have your back, too. No one in centuries had said anything like that to him, and though he'd never admit it, he loved that this girl had. It stirred a pleasant warmth in him. He thought, I'm getting soft, but the feeling was too nice to ignore.
When he closed his eyes, he could still sense the warmth, which became more intense when he carried her to her room. He didn't know why, but when he'd brought her to her bed, he hadn't wanted to let her go. He wanted to hold her close, to have her near and safe in his arms. It was an unfamiliar, warm feeling mixed with a dangerous possessiveness, a need to protect her like he had against the manticore.
When he opened his eyes again, she was still focused, biting her lip as she added details to his portrait. At that moment, the Lord of the Dead felt his heart skip a beat. Erianthe looked up and smiled.
"There, it's done. I hope you like it," she said proudly, handing him the drawing.
The Lord of the Dead was rarely left speechless, but this girl had done just that. She had drawn him exactly as he was, capturing his true essence with an imposing aura—a king, or better yet, a god. Erianthe was, undoubtedly, an artist.
"This is fantastic! That guy from the River Styx was right; you have serious talent. You'd make an amazing artist!" he exclaimed, genuinely enthusiastic.
"Thanks, though it'll only be a hobby, really," Eri admitted, looking down.
"Why? You're superb!"
"For one, if I recall correctly, my new job is keeping the underworld sparkling clean… for eternity," she replied, giving him a pointed look.
"Touché," he conceded.
"And two. It's not what my parents envisioned for my future, or rather, what they had envisioned."
"Oh? And what did they have planned?"
"To marry me to one of the princes of Thebes—the heir to the throne." Eri looked down sadly, holding her father's medallion, while Hades, shocked and angry, processed her words. They wanted to promise their eldest to a prince.
"Dad was always friends with the king of Thebes—not the current one, but the one who went to fight in the war. And he always thought that if he arranged my marriage to someone in royalty, I'd never lack anything and that I'd be protected when he was gone."
Erianthe's eyes filled with tears. Though she loved her father dearly, the decision affected her greatly as a child. "They never got to formalize the engagement. The call to arms arrived first."
Hades watched as she held the medallion, her face hidden, but he could sense the mixture of sadness and frustration, a feeling he understood all too well. His future and destiny had been decided for him after the war with the Titans.
From what he could tell, his nephew wasn't too different from Zeus in that regard, making decisions without considering the person they affected most.
"Just before the recruitment missive arrived, my dad and I fought. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I said terrible things because I couldn't understand why I wasn't allowed to choose my destiny. My mother stepped in to defend me, and the two of them ended up arguing. In the end, my dad let it go, but I know that when he returns, he'll want to bring it up again. Although, now there's a small problem."
"What kind of problem?"
"The prince they wanted me to marry, the eldest, died five years ago. He died along with my paternal grandparents when they burned down our home. It was the worst night of my life." Erianthe was trembling. Reliving that nightmare and those moments were painful, and Hades didn't want to see her that way.
The god recognized how much the daughter of his nemesis had suffered—even Meg and her younger son, too. He was surprised that she was opening up to him. He wasn't one for sentimentality; seeing Eri's true self, her vulnerable side, unsettled him. Likewise, he wasn't sure how to react, but he let her continue.
"That drawing is a copy of the tapestry that was left after the fire. I made it to remember the good times and to remember my father's face. I also made drawings of Pegasus, Phil, and my grandparents, but I left those with Zenos. And this medallion—it's all I have left of my father. Yet, I hate it."
"You hate that medallion? But it's all you have left of your father," Hades replied, puzzled. To him, it seemed like her most prized possession.
"Because it's linked to Olympus. Not once in almost ten years has any god other than you bothered to help us. I despise being tied to that legacy. In fact, I refuse to connect myself with anything related to Olympus, besides my father." Eri replied with bitterness.
He could hardly believe it. The king of the underworld had found someone who hated Olympus as much as he did, and it was none other than the granddaughter of Zeus! Perhaps this girl could one day be an ally. Who knows? He was beginning to like her.
"The gods are selfish by nature, and those on Olympus… they're the worst. So never expect anything from them. Trust me—I know from experience."
Hades knew what he was talking about. Those gods could be absolutely vile, and that was coming from the worst god of them all.
Erianthe knew she shouldn't speak that way about the Olympian gods. Her father would probably be disappointed to hear it, but she was genuinely furious with them. They had ignored the prayers of mortals.
At that moment, Hades's two minions woke up and joyfully rushed toward Eri.
"Erianthe! You're okay!" exclaimed Pain.
"You worried us when you fainted. Even the boss was worried," added Panic.
"Thanks for caring, guys." Eri smiled, glancing at Hades, who had turned red from Panic's comment. "I'll fry him later," the god thought, but seeing Eri's smile made him let it go. He couldn't deny it; he had been concerned.
"You had a great idea at the end."
"Yeah! And your skill with ropes and that knot, perfect on the first try—impressive!"
"Hahaha. Well, it's natural. I'm an expert; I've spent years climbing, crushing rocks and tying all kinds of knots," she replied proudly.
At that moment, the Lord of the Dead stood up. He made his throne disappear and said, "Alright, you two, let Erianthe rest. Today, you're staying here to recover, but tomorrow, first thing, I expect you in the throne room," Hades instructed.
"Yes, sir. I'll be there," Eri replied softly. When he was serious, that god could be incredibly intimidating, even a little terrifying. She supposed that was why Hades didn't get along easily with others, but really, his intentions were unclear.
Hades and the two minions left the room, bidding her farewell.
"Get some rest, Eri!" the minions chorused, while Hades simply looked at her.
She quickly fell asleep again.
The following morning, she still felt tired, but she had told Hades that she would come to the throne room, so she dressed and went straight there. She had no desire to anger the god.
When she arrived, he was there, sitting, reading a scroll. Sensing her presence, he set aside what he was reading and looked at her. He noted that she still appeared exhausted, but he was glad she was doing well.
"Good morning, sleepyhead. I thought you weren't going to show," the king of the underworld teased. Good, Erianthe thought.He's in a good mood. "Come on, let me see your hand," Hades said.
"I'm fine, really, it doesn't hurt much. Seriously, you don't need to look."
"Would you stop contradicting me, girl! Come here and let me see that hand of yours." Eri hurriedly held out her hand, not wanting to irritate the god, who seemed to be in a good mood. Wow, what a temper he has. Is he always like this? she thought.
Resigned, Erianthe offered her hand. The god took it, removing the bandage with his other hand. The cut was healing, but he decided to take advantage of his restored power to finish healing it. Instantly, Eri felt the same warmth as the night he'd healed her in the forest. She shivered at the connection she sensed, noticing how massive his hands looked compared to hers.
"Why is her face red again? Did I use too much power?" Hades wondered but dismissed it as he finished healing her wound.
"All done."
"Th-thank you."
"I didn't call you here just to heal your hand. I wanted to discuss a few things, but you must swear not to disobey me again. Capisci?" Hades looked like he was about to lose his patience again, so Eri nodded quickly.
"I swear I won't do it again, sir."
"Good. Now, let's talk about your punishment. After reviewing what happened at the Styx yesterday, I'm revoking it. You'll be free to do your work without supervision, except in areas where I've told you I'll accompany you. You're also free to leave your room whenever you want."
"Really? Thank you! I—I…"
"Silence! I'm not finished yet."
"Yes, sir."
"I'm not sure if I'll regret this, but I'd like you to redecorate the Underworld. I want you to put that talent of yours to use down here. What do you say, Erianthe? Will you accept?" declared the god of the dead, challenging Hercules's daughter, who was left speechless.
Hello, everyone!
Here's another freshly baked chapter! This one's a bit less intense than the last, but I wanted to start showing how trust slowly builds between Hades and Erianthe.
I hope you enjoy it, and I'm really aiming to capture both Hades' personality and Erianthe's background. I want to gradually reveal her character—creating someone with true strength but also personal conflicts, rather than a flat character. The same goes for Hades.
Remember, English is not my native language, so you might find a few errors here and there, but I'm doing my best to translate and adapt the story into English so it can be understood and enjoyed. I hope you like it!
Enjoy the chapter, and as always, I know I keep saying it, but any comments or feedback are more than welcome to help improve the story!
Thanks for your support and for continuing to read it!
