Kintsugi

by The White Wulf

The practice of repairing broken pottery with precious metals. it signified the importance of an item's history and the beauty of imperfections. In one reality, the God Hephaestus experiences such a concept. The melding of a Heroic Spirit and Divine Entity creating an impossible miracle. A new God walks the earth...for good or ill. (Will go from Ancient Greece to modern day).

11. Chapter 11 (UnBeta'd)

I LIVE! Fate/Clover is almost done, but I decided to release Kintsugi before Beta was finished with it. Poor guy only received it today and I just released it again XD.

Aside from that, trying to release the chapters before I no life Monster Hunter Wilds. I also give you this warning in advance. When Digimon Story Time Stranger releases…and Borderlands 4…and whichever Game catches my fancy.

….or my ninth playthrough of Baldur's Gate 3….

…I don't have a problem.

Kintsugi Chapter 11 (UNBETA'D):

The child had run forward like the wind, disappearing through the woods within a second. In response, Hephaestus held his hand out…and traced the leaf.

It held none of Demeter's divine energy, but it did hold the history. It was fragmented history, barely worth a dime, but it was a history of events, nonetheless. It fluttered down the path, aloft only by his divinity and the memory of its construction.

Still…it was strange.

"This child keeps appearing before me," he thought, "there must be a reason. Is it trying to lead me somewhere?"

The way the young nymph moved always suggested a need to rush, yet it never made a sound unless he actively looked to her. Always grabbing his attention and running away. Still, he couldn't waste time chasing after something whose goals were unknowable. A human child he'd be concerned about, not a nature spirit with abilities beyond mortal ken. Best to work with what he had.

Besides, for all he knew the damn childlike form was thousands of years old.

So, with leaf in tow, he went north, cutting through a deluge of vegetation. It was beautiful, rows of perfectly aligned trees, saturated with flowers of all sorts, some that he had never seen. A tapestry of color that was right at home in a fantastical forest.

It was a pleasant trip, but one that ended as he finally found the clearing that Demeter had left for him.

It would seem that she had heard some tales of his forging process. The clearing was wide, free of detriment and vegetation. The ground was like a solid night, the soil rich and dark. It was tamped down and was obviously manipulated with magic of sorts. While muted, there was still some phantom of sensation underneath his feet.

The ground gritted against his metallic feet like ashphalt, ye t the ground was obviously dirt. Littering the circumference of this clearing was the work of dozens of runes. Obviously placed to contain his power if need be.

It wasn't a cage, so much he could tell. If it was, he'd just rule break out and leave her empty handed.

Hephaestus took a breath, feeling the minute prick of irritation.

He thought it would be easier, this whole arming the Gods thing. It was supposed to be quick, easy, and forgotten about. He still needed to find those that had murdered Calliope.

His chest heated up and he clicked his tongue.

"Calm," he muttered.

He knelt, placing his hands against the dirt, feeling it seep between his fingers. The ground was surprisingly cool between his fingers, the sensation of the dirt dulling the sharpness of his thoughts, if for a time.

He took a breath as the vastness of Demeter's divinity enveloped him. He needed to refocus on the task at hand. It would take time…but this place was perfect, even more so than the depths of the oceans like Poseidon's kingdom. Here was in the heart of Demeter's domain. Whether she knew it or not, forging her symbol here was the perfect place.

It wouldn't change the actual creation, but it was possible it might alter the means he created it. His thoughts were shattered at the sound of a deep rumbling. He looked around, seeing countless eyes. There were sentries everywhere, but it was the largest of them that caught his attention. It lumbered through the forest around him, hidden from normal sight.

He was not afraid, he could see an intimidation tactic like this from a mile away. It broke the edge of the woods, entering the clearing with clear and concise steps. It's maw opened up, a steam following the hiss it billowed at him, the saliva of the beast dripping to the ground with a sizzle.

What filled him was not fear…but awe, as this was the first time he had ever seen such a beast up close. It was a winged serpent, a Drakones of sorts.

In EMIYA's time they were long extinct but were recognized as a form of lesser dragons. Powerful, but not pure in the same way Fafnir or Ddraig were. It must have been young too, for its entire length was barely 10 feet or so, the wing span longer than any outstretched arms. It's eyes shone in the light, an emerald green slitted as another hiss slithered from it.

Hephaestus narrowed his eyes, and the two stared at one another, the creatures leaning forward on their haunches.

-22 minutes later-

The door to Demeter's shed opened. It was a small area, meant mostly for her weavings of plant life and other such hobbies. Perfect for quality mother and daughter time. More importantly, it was warded from all means of detection, though Iris was strangely still able to get through. Persephone was close behind her mother, a bit distracted.

Demeter scowled, eyeing her daughter's vacant expression.

"Kore, focus! Stop staring into the woods, you know nothing here would ever harm you!"

Perspehone, or kore as those close to her would refer to her has, eyed her mother.

"I'm not afraid," she muttered.

"I know, but you've been staring into the trees as if waiting for someone to jump out at you! It's been days now sweetie, there's no one there. I promise."

The brilliant shine of Perspehone's golden hair shimmered a bit, reducing to a whiter tint for a moment.

"…Of course mother."

The older of the two waved her hands and the forest around them made way. The trees unnaturally curled around them, as if protecting them.

For a moment, despite her anger, Persephone felt a small smile form. Even annoyed as she was, her mother still warded them with her divinity despite her words.

"Are you prepared Kore?"

Her daughter nodded, ignoring the way Demeter still insisted on calling her Kore. A silly nickname or some such when she was a child. She was in her hundredth year! She wasn't a child any longer.

"I believe so mother. Though…is this not a little…paranoid?"

They stopped their walk through the woods, Demeter turning to her daughter. It was a strange expression, both contempt and pity mixed in. She clasped her daughter's face with both hands, her touch gentle as if afraid she'd shatter her.

"Oh child. Understand that this isn't about that. It's about precautions. Just because they act one way with someone, doesn't mean they'll treat you the same. Your father is an excellent example of that."

Persephone looked to the side. She knew of their history; of the way her father had left her alone. Zeus was…strange to her. He had hurt her mother deeply, but Persephone found it difficult to view him with hate. Though, to be fair there was no love lost for the God either. She felt nothing for him and thus did nothing with him. Still she interjected, though not for her father's sake.

"But mother, he had already forged the symbols for the others…why would he keep just yours?"

Demeter smiled.

"Oh, it's not just mine I am concerned he has sweetheart. For all we know he has been gathering pieces of Divinity with none of us the wiser."

True in the case for Hermes, not that they knew that.

Demeter walked through her realm with grace, each step measured in its gait. Even as she walked with her daughter to Hephaestus, her eyes and focus were on all things across her realm, small as this piece was. A shimmer appeared, as another copy of Demeter moved away from them to deal with a problem she noticed.

Her attention turned to Perspehone.

"You're right, of course. He could very well be genuine…but if he is not, the consequences can be dire."

Demeter looked to the sky, frowning.

"Hera had abandoned him darling, totally and utterly. What reasons she may have are irrelevant. What she did is nothing short of horrific. It's despicable."

The clouds darkened for a brief moment, but Demeter's almost demure expression was cracked into a sneer. She pulsed with a power of her own, the dark clouds dispersing. For a moment Persephone had felt a weight that was almost unbearable if not for her mother's intervention.

Hera and Demeter never truly got along for long periods of time. What had happened with Hephaestus had only driven Demeter further away from her sister.

"There is vengeance in his heart child, there must be. Deep enough I cannot see it…but it must be there…and our power could be used to enact it. Whether it is just or otherwise, I refuse to possibly play a part in it. So, you'll remain, just in case he tries something."

There was no concern if Hephaestus would hear them, after all this was Demeter's realm. It was simple enough to control how far sound traveled and unravel any mystical means of observation. Such thoughts rambled through her mind, wondering about all the nefarious possibilities and how she could counteract them. His politeness, while appreciated, didn't hide the shame of his birth and his circumstances. The sterness on her face faltered a bit at the thought but resolved itself after. Her heart hardened into stone as she approached the clearing, ready for anything.

They cleared the woods, and Persephone almost chuckled…though it did bubble out when she saw the slowly disbelieving look on her mother's face. Curled around the young god was the very supposedly "threatening" dragon they had left to keep on eye on Hephaestus.

Its maw was wide open as it lay languidly against the lord of flames. It shivered at the burst of heat billowing from the God, chirping as his hand ran along their tough scales.

You could hear the loud grinding as his calloused fingers rankled across the hide of their dragon. Demeter felt her expression dwindle into the sort of expiration only a mother could have.

This particular dragon was her pride and joy. It was the son of the pair that pulled her chariot. Young, but stronger than both of its parents combined. It was supposed to eventually grow into a fine beast, mighty enough to protect this place. To protect her daughter, if need be.

Such was its strength that even Circe' sought it out. Demeter had refused her vehemently of course, but it spoke of the potential, the danger, the utter dominance it could command.

Yet, here it was, acting as a puppy to the being it was supposed to threaten. Hephaestus turned and quickly tried to quell the childish glee he held, if even for a moment.

Perspehone was a bit worried her mother would lose it…but instead she seemed to sag.

"Antidikos."

The dragon suddenly lurched away, curling around the opposite tree. It looked down. What little expression could be discerned from its scaly face was mired in guilt.

"My apologies," said Hephaestus, "I didn't mean to deter him from his duty. I…I just have never seen a dragon…at least not like this. Most do not have the privilege to spend time with creatures like this."

He stood and bowed to her again.

"I shouldn't have let myself get distracted. Please, if you have a form of what you wish your symbol to take, then I can get started right away."

Demeter snapped her fingers, a scythe and dagger displayed before him. It was soon followed by a variety of farm tools and other implements, most of which were not yet born to human hands. Though there was that Telemachus fellow she had grown fond of.

"These will suffice. I have no need for something obtrusive."

She had to admit, the way he simply got to work gave her a smidge of respect. Hermes and even that new ditz Apollo always tried to have a conversation with her.

There was a time and a place obviously. She always made it clear they were free to visit whenever they wish, so long as prior notice was given. Her nieces and nephews were…a fun sort, that she would admit. All she asked was for a bit of respect. But did they listen?

NO!

"Honestly, the one who shows the most respect is of course the human one," she muttered.

Perspehone blinked, staring at her mother. Most would assume she was dismissive, but there was a tell of humor to her mother's voice.

Demeter was inspecting the rest of the clearing but felt herself drawn to the process that had started. She could feel the conjuring's of his divinity, narrowing her eyes as she watched Hephaestus. She felt her eyes slowly widening as she dissected the process of him summoning his materials and structures.

A billow, an anvil, every and any tool that could be used was quickly brought to bear. But these were no hollow shells, not the way most Gods 'created' things. This boy…he was weaving. The complexity was on a scale that was usually unnecessary for gods, but he was doing it. Right down to the anatomical structure of every item he was working with. Nothing was left up to the world, or to the natural order…

It was exactly like Hera.

"…Oh," she muttered staring at the sky, "you're a fool."

Hephaestus turned to her. His face was as calm as ever, strangely absent of frustration, but the words he spoke were not as serene.

"I am no fool Lady Demeter. If you wish to be rude, I'll go elsewhere."

There was being polite and tolerating, and then just being a push over. His patience was running hin enough already. If she was going to fire comments and her weird attitude, then he had a better use of his time.

"I didn't mean you Nephew," she said with grace, "I must admit, I find the way you weave a testament to your skill, more so considering your age. I apologize…I was just thinking of someone else. She weaves like you do."

"Weave?"

That just seemed to make Demeter even sadder, but her daughter brightened up, examining the objects Hephaestus had created. The anvil, the billows, all that would be home in the smithy of someone in the medieval ages. The clearing was large enough to fit several homes, but even so they seemed to fill the larger space.

"Your process is immaculate!" she said, "I take more of a natural groove myself."

He watched as a flow formed between her fingers. It was entirely different than his own process. It lacked the steps, the intent, and the history. But the result…even to his eyes it was a small tulip, though colored a hued pink. It sputtered into fragments of Persephone's divinity.

"I usually like to start the process already in the ground, that way they can grow and fertilize naturally."

Persephone was grabbed and pulled closer to her mother, poor Demeter exasperated.

"Child breathe! Let the poor boy work. You know how much you hate being interrupted, hm?"

Persephone blushed a bit, curling a bit of her blonde hair around a finger.

"I'm…sorry, not many Gods weave overall, so I don't get to talk about it much."

Weaving…was it possible?

"The roots of the spell were so old that no one was able to decipher its history…but…"

Weaving, and Gradient Air…was it possible they were one and the same? The same result, powered by different sources and methods? Unlikely, but it did tickle his inspiration slightly, about what next steps he would have.

"To see such talent from one who knows nothing of the art…it is remarkable."

The burden Demeter seemed to carry wilted from her shoulders.

"My apologies…I'll leave you to your work…Nephew."

Hephaestus remained ever stoic as usual…but inwardly he was relieved that she was stepping back in a more positive state. Demeter's emotional swings were well known in myth…with horrifying consequences. The clearing began to heat up as Hephaestus produced the materials from within. The wood from the tree of Wis. It was far more potent than the wood that he had used for Artemis and Apollo but was utterly saturated in the concept of the "earth", making it ill-suited for either God. But for one like Demeter? It would do nicely. Demeter blinked, but remained silent. Word of Wis' passing had long since spread.

It was the metal that was of a different sort than expected. It was a sleek bar of common divine metal, Celestial Bronze. Unlike its mortal comparison, it was not an alloy but a base element natural to the divine environment of the Greeks.

Abundant and highly durable, it was the perfect metal for divine entities. She knew of some of the more primitive metal working practices, that of heating the metal block and hammering it into shape. Yet, instead he placed the metal bar within a bowl and held his hand to it. The pot he touched sizzled loudly as it turned cherry red.

Minutes passed as he waited for the metal to slowly melt. He then went to what appeared to be a large kiln, and placed it within. A few rocks formed within his hands, black in color, and were crushed into the mix. He closed the door on the kiln and reached underneath the base of the furnace.

He grunted as a torrent of flame screamed out, the heat blistering even to her. Yet, she saw the way the heat never shimmered far from the very edges of the clearing. He stood, staring at the flames, it would surge and simmer at his thoughts before he was satisfied.

A bit of black smog began to form…and it was retched. It reeked offensively to her. She was content to suffer through it, after all this was not her domain to judge, yet she felt the respect that had formed raise even higher as she watched her nephew place a small bottle near the furnace, catching all the smoke within. The scent was soon dispersed and diluted.

The thoughtfulness of it…it was sweet. She felt no guilt for her preparations of the boy, but she would admit she might have been a tad hasty mentally comparing him to Zeus. Maybe just a bit. It was sudden, the tingle up her spine. She turned to the kiln, feeling something being formed. He placed his hands on the kiln, reciting under his breath. Was this his mantra?

"Judging the concept of creation.

Hypothesizing the basic structure."

The metal within caused the furnace to crack with unrestrained power. Spurts of raw material jutted out from the cracks, staining the ground in a molten slag. It cooled rapidly into a lumpy cool grey. The surge of divinity settled, and he reached within. He hefted the bucket, smiling at what he saw.

"Congratulations aunt Demeter, yours will be the first weapon made with Celestial Steel."

He smiled as if it was no big deal, but even Demeter knew the achievement that had been made. It was thought there was no improving the metal of the Gods. Since the dawn of their little pantheon celestial bronze had been a stalwart and unchanging force. Yet…they were wrong. She could feel the way the lords of iron all shivered, their stature lessening as the sole use of their realms became lesser.

The metal of the divines, Celestial bronze, was durable. Of that, there was no question. Yet, it was not indestructible. Demeter could crush such weapons in her grip if given the opportunity, though most Gods protected their items with their own power as they fought, shrouding the metal in their divinity to prevent such a thing. Yet, she could tell that this metal was stronger, even with her limited experience.

The wood that he had put aside was molded by his magic to fit the shape of what she knew as handles. He took a breath, his voice rumbling through the clearing, clear and concise. A blacksmith's song echoed, rough and course.

Yet, to Demeter it spoke of commitment and strength. She turned to her daughter, smiling at the way her eyes had brightened. She knew her well enough to know when her eyes sparked with desire, and alight they were in that artistic spark.

The idea of adding one's voice was a power all its own, one that most Gods overlooked. Her own daughter was guilty of this. But Demeter knew the power even a God's voice could carry. He brought the metal to the anvil and swung.

She blinked as a torrent of pressure ripped through the clearing, brushing every leaf across the trees around him. Every hit echoed like thunder, the ground reverberating. His divine beast surged out from within him, fanning the flames at his billow. It was a tedious process, one that went on for hours as he painstakingly analyzed every bit of his work. Each swing was not merely a blow of force, but a repetition of form and power.

Eventually his hammering ceased, yet still he was not finished. A new tool formed in his hands, one that focused his divinity like a lens, right down to the fine point. Sigils and markings danced as he wrote across the blades he had made, saturating them in the basics of divinity. Her blades were…perfect, even incomplete as they were.

The process had been far longer than she would have liked. Especially when he went to heat the metal once more, hammering and adjusting as he went. The sigils never wavered even as the metal warped and shifted, however minutely. For all the time she had spent there, it was only near the end that he beckoned her. She entered, cringing slightly at the overbearing heat. She hated to admit it, but Hephaestus was well equipped for someone of her nature.

She offered him a strand of her hair. It fell unto the blades, turning the metallic sheen into a blistering stark white. The wood splintered and slithered across the metal. Demeter smiled as she saw what her symbols had become.

It was duel purposed, both a weapon and a tool. A means to arm herself in battle but still represent that which she had grown to embody. She lifted her new tools…and felt her smile grow. Thew way they responded seamlessly to her…they were perfect. Her sickle and knife were perfect.

"Thank you, Nephew."

He merely bowed.

"Of course. I've taken up enough of your time as is Aunt Demeter, I believe it best to return home to my abode."

To Hephaestus shock, and detriment, Demeter merely smiled. She gestured for him to follow.

"Come. You must have a feast with us before you go. I must celebrate these items, and it would be dull taste to do so without the maker in attendance.

It was said with words that dripped like honey…but it was not a request. He felt himself squirm at the thought but relented.

"What are you doing?"

The voice of the river Styx echoed, no thundering in his skull. Her annoyance was clear.

"You're letting her dictate the terms? I don't understand why you are bothering with this? You've already done what was needed and you care little for being here."

"You wouldn't understand," he mentally sighed.

He felt their communication mute itself before he could say a word. The entire affair proved to be more tolerable than he gave her credit for.

The process was faster than he expected as well. None of the Olympians were in attendance, nor any God of note. Instead, it was just those that made their home in Demeter's domain. The feast was supplied with fruits and vegetables with only a small assortment of meat.

Most of the evening was centered on Demeter. In fact, it felt like he was less a guest and more of an exhibit, something to see rather than interact with. It made it a lot easier but that wasn't to say he had no interactions for the night.

Goblet in hand, filled with some wine, Hephaestus had found himself admist a conversation he never thought would be.

"So, you separate it into steps?"

"Yes."

"What made you think to even do something like that?"

"A lack of knowledge," smiled Hephaestus, "and plenty of time. What made you like weaving as you do, Persephone?"
With Persephone's questions, the night proved to be amicable even. The way she smiled and sought to improve her weaving, as the Gods called it, sparked his artistic soul. She was genuine, bright, and obviously very pretty.

Her hair shone like wheat, and her personality was bright, her disposition sunny. In fact, she was almost human like in her mannerisms. Still, that wasn't to say she didn't have quirks. Key in point, her lack of response as she stared into the woods for the third time tonight.

The way she stared into the distance…it felt familiar to Hephaestus. He smiled as he interrupted her focus.

"You seek to wander?"

The merriment was aplenty and loud, but she heard him clearly. She blushed a bit.

"Outside your mother's domain, I mean?"

She cringed a bit, turning to Demeter. Thankfully, Demeter was preoccupied.

"I…just wish to see more of what's out here," she smiled.

A strange blush had formed on her face, though to Hephaestus it looked more like a sheen of gold than the usual red.

"I understand. I plan to travel once I'm done arming the rest of Olympus."

She looked at him.

"Really?"

He nodded, smiling.

"I enjoy it. I find I can't stay in a place for too long…though in that same breath I've always wanted a home to return to as well."

Honesty was the best policy when you were conversing with a species that could detect lies. Half the truth was even better.

"Still, it is about time I return home," he murmured.

Demeter, as if she was hearing the conversation from the start, appeared beside him.

"Impatient, are we?"

Hephaestus only smiled.

"I apologize Aunt Demeter, but my residence had recently been intruded on. While I believe the situation resolved, I find it more comfortable to be close at hand…considering my limitations."

Hephaestus' smile remained, he had to admit he could see why the Gods enjoyed banter like this. Everything he said was the truth, it didn't also mean it wasn't an excuse. This sort of…reverie, while tame in comparison to the normal debauchery he's heard of, still wasn't his scene. A small whimper echoed in the woods, as a familiar reptilian came close.

"Hello, my new friend," he smiled, "it is my time to go. It was a pleasure meeting you.

One last lick at his hand and Demeter scoffed. It was a good-natured one, mired in her amusement as she gave the adolescent beast a look over.

"I bid you farewell Nephew, you are always welcome here so long as you abide by customs."

Ah, that. Demeter had spent a majority of the night explaining to Hephaestus just how much the other Gods in his generations were idiots, rude, or both. She gave a small gesture with a demure smile, and he was gone. With a pop, he was home.

The forest was dead silent on his arrival, and honestly, he just wanted to get away for a little bit. A sentiment the fates seemed to allow.

Kassandra was gone, none of the nymphs were around, and thankfully the humans were far away. His home stood undeterred, magically created as it was.

"A project for the future," he muttered.

He entered in, and smile as he neared his bed. While the rest wasn't needed, he wanted to spend his evening within his reality marble. Most of its contents thus far had been pressed to memory, but there was still more to actively catalogue. While the contents truly were unlimited, the Noble Phantasms were not.

Emiya's renditions within Chaldea allowed him numerous glimpses at the treasures of Gilgamesh, many of which found a copy within his reality marble.

It wasn't hard work by any means but having them committed to memory granted him more than just understanding, it granted him methods and a means of studying the concepts that were embodied within the weapons.

Even if he was the Greek God of the forge, he had in hands the knowledge of countless other pantheons and cultures, all able to be plied and formed to suit his needs. It was incredible for him, to feel himself improving his art even in his sleep.

As such, one would understand him being peeved at the sight he was greeted to once his head hit his pillow.

Standing before him, irate, was Styx. Her tanned skin contrasted beautifully with her white hair, her eyes drilling into him.

"You stayed," she sighed.

The disappointment dripped like venom, and while it didn't hurt…it did irritate him.

"I…please explain to him love. I'll just yell if I try."

Styx sighed, rubbing her skull. Pallas, ever in her shadow, bowed slightly to Hephaestus.

"Lord Hephaestus. This foolishness is…concerning." \

"No hello," murmured Hephaestus, "no how are you? Just judgements. Judgements that are none of your concern."

Pallas seemd seepish at least, but Styx was oddly defient.

"None of our concern?" she scoffed behind her husband, "you service forces beyond you without a second thought! At least have the strength needed to be a force amongst them, rather than a servant!"

The comment stung more than he was willing to admit, but he had his reasons for staying his course.

"I…appreciate your candor. But I care little for what you have to say on the matter."

Pallas tilted his head.

"I do not believe you understand the severity of what you've been doing."

"I do."

He left it at that. Well, he tried too at least. He ignored Pallas, ever silent as he followed him. He moved from the volcano and the river, venturing into the freshly grown forests that sputtered around his reality marble.

At first it resembled a savanna but now looked more like a full and lush forest region. The trees were thick and strong, standing like sentinels over his blades. He picked one random noble phantasm up. It was a quant thing, making a sharp sound that would attack the ear drum with every swing. It wasn't all that durable though. A remnant of the works of Atlas in EMIYA's old life.

"You seem calm, considering what happened."

He rolled his eyes, deciding to just get it over with.

"Pallas, I told you your words will mean little to me. I understand you feel as you do, but my life and what I do are none of your business. I am asking you politely. Drop it."

Pallas hummed, but Styx was not so silent anymore.

"We are worried," she muttered.

"Don't be. It is none of your concern," he muttered.

"It is my concern," she scowled, "especially when the God that freed me allows himself to be…trampled over! You've done nothing but serve at the behest of your fellow Olympians as if you are beneath them! It is infuriating! Do you not see the lack of respect?"

"I care little for it," Hephaestus stated plainly.

It was true. After all, aside from council meetings, he had plans to simply keep it business. The so called lack of respect was barely felt in truth. He did his business, they moved on. Hestia, Apollo, and seemingly Demeter proved to be the sort that he could talk with regularly maybe, but that was about it.

Relationships required trust, and only a fool trusted Gods so deeply.

As he rounded another tree he saw Pallas studying a kirk, the small weapon imbedded to the ground. The titan turned to him, studied him.

"Pallas!" she called out, "talk to him! Make sure he understands that this is not the way!"

He gave his wife a quizzical look.

"You're repeating yourself dear…I think you spent too much time with Lethe again."

The glare he got was something only a wife could fire, sending Pallas back to Hephaestus. He stood, his towering form slightly taller than Hephaestus. Yet, the words were soft but unwavering.

"You must understand the concern Styx has. What we are…diplomacy is not in our nature. Your actions will not grant you leverage or good will like it might with humans."

"I am well aware," he muttered dryly.

"Than just listen to-"

He didn't yell. There was no screaming or threats. But the look he fired held her silent. Hephaestus stared at Styx.

"No."

Pallas stilled. He stared at Hephaestus. Yet, even he was not free from his words.

"Regardless of whatever debt you feel you owe me, that stands for you as well. I am well aware of the capricious nature of those I tangle with. I do not fear them."

"Yet you serve," muttered Styx.

"So it seems to you."

"It won't end well," she muttered, "whatever big task you're thinking of demanding won't follow."

Hephaestus smirked. That weas what it always came down to. Give and take. He had felt that same trepidation from the other Gods. Only Hestia and Zeus lacked such a tinge in their interactions…though Apollo recently felt more natural as well.

"It is good then require nothing from them."

Pallas' eyes widened and he gestured for his wife to stay silent, even as she prepared another bout of words. He whispered it, almost like he was afraid to be overheard.

"The humans."

The young God actually stilled, narrowing his eyes. Styx stared at her husband.

"What?"

"This is about the humans…no about all the lesser species around you. You fear for their safety."

Pallas let a pitying sigh flow from his lips. He looked to Hephaestus, pity and annoyance both in his expression. He even reached out to place a hand on the younger God's shoulders.

"Your worry for them is a weakness."

"I can handle it," he muttered.

"…Enduring it is not the same as handling it."

Hephaestus looked at him.

"You believe that by serving you'll…protect them?" continued the lord of war, "keep attention away from those that be near you."

"Agitated Gods will be petty in the worst of ways," muttered Hephaestus.

Pallas sighed.

"As good intentioned as you may think this is, it is ultimately foolish. The gods will not care how little you've affected them. If you truly wish to deter others from overstepping their boundaries than you must step up."

"For what?" muttered Hephaestus, the flames within broiling up, "to just crush another beneath my heel? Proclaim myself the strongest for no other reason than domination and pride? I have better things to do with my time than waste it on pointless struggles. Let the Gods have their disputes."

"Those disputes," stressed Pallas, "have a way of spilling into others domains. You are like a great expanse Hephaestus, one unprotected by walls. Reaction is not the same as being proactive. This…subservient behaviour does not shield others like you think they do…and it certainly is not the subterfuge you think it is."

The blade he had picked up and analyzed fell from his hand as he sighed. He didn't glare, but instead stared Pallas down.

"…I do not know what is worse," muttered the Titan of War, "most that know themselves as you do, do not lie to themselves. Yet, here you are…hiding behind petty fears."

As much as it aggravated the Titan of War, Pallas found himself respecting the stalwart nature of Hephaestus. The provocation was obvious, but the young God remained entirely in control, both of himself and the conversation. Another blade was placed in Hephaestus' hand, as he finally gave Pallas a response.

"I know what I am doing."

"No, you really don't" muttered Pallas, "but you are right. This is your choice, your realm. How you wish to deal with things is your decision."

"But!"

Pallas placed a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Calm love. He is young…and uneducated."

It could have come across as an insult, but the words Pallas spoke was drenched in sorrow and distaste.

"Lord Hephaestus…there will come a time when my words will make more sense to you. You express this idea that freedom is a right for all…yes?"

He remained silent, analyzing another blade. This did not deter the older deity.

"Freedom is not the absence of order Hephaestus. Your need to distrance yourself from them for their protection isn't…never mind."

Pallas remained silent, and dispersed from his reality marble. Styx however, remained. She followed him, her eyes drilling into his back. Hephaestus stiffened as he felt a cold hand practically steam on his shoulder.

"I do not wish to watch you fall, young one. That is all. Do not take my words as barbs against you."

"I know."

It was all that needed to be said really. As of late, their connection had proved to be surface deep. Yes, she was entrenched within his reality marble, but in truth that did not grant her access to his innermost thoughts, nor he hers. Yet, there was still the overall feeling they felt from one another, the vibe if one would.

Her words, while sharp, were never intended to simply mar him. He could feel that much. Just as she could feel that his rebukes were not a threat to her continued sanctuary within him. Still, how much of her desire to interfere was from fear…or her own pride.

As he analyzed another blade Hephaestus couldn't help but ruminate. Were they right? Perhaps in some respects. He wasn't perfect after all…but the idea of others suffering simply because he got too uppity with another God was just too much to bear.

It was ridiculous and aggravating in every way. He had no idea just how far thew Gods wrath could extend…and the risk was too great. What happened to Calliope…it will not happen again.

"Never again," he growled.

Countless blades were analyzed in the few hours his waking body slept. He wasn't sure if this was real sleep, but since there were no negatives yet, he saw no need to find out.

Eventually, he decided it was time to wake up, or he might sleep too long.

The grogginess of waking up was thankfully absent from his rest. At least…he thought they were?

Hephaestus stared at his ceiling, looking to the confines of his room. White, white for all that could be seen. He eyed his window, open and a gale screaming through it. He sat up, the white powder falling from his torso.

He blinked.

"…how long was I asleep?"

The harsh galloping of a horse crunching through the snow echoed, and he moved to greet it. He wasn't cold per say, if anything he was still relatively warm even wrapped in a toga. Of the oddest things he had encountered in his life, both lives, sleeping until winter was strangely not the oddest thing.

"…I'm never sleeping again," he muttered, "I don't care what Apollo wants."

He scowled as he meandered through his now wrecked home. The entire home was shrouded in snow, his windows and doors blasted in from the harsh winds. His entire body was strong enough to withstand the winds overall, but once he was outside, he could feel the unnatural strength.

It felt like the wind was biting, carrying a frigidness that was eerily purposeful, as if it was trying to freeze him solidly. The wind obscured his vision only slightly, and the sight of Kassandra shivering through the cold made his frown deepen. Kassandra was no fool. She wouldn't be galloping through the snow so unprepared.

"Kassandra," he nodded.

Ifrit swooshed from his chest, bringing a sense of relief to Kassandra as they landed on her back.

"Heph," she shuddered, "what's happening?"

He sighed.

"Of course this isn't natural."

"…no shit!? It doesn't snow like this overnight! Nor has it ever snowed like this!"

A shock drilled into his spine, a memory of EMIYA's screaming in the back of his mind. He had heard of a story like this…fore when Persephone was kidnapped by Hades. Demeter was so distraught that she basically induced the season of winter outright. She cried for her daughter for months, reducing Greece to a winter standstill.

If Hephaestus was honest, it didn't think the story would hold much weight in this world. The realm of the other Gods would be impaired by Demeter's actions, so he always assumed it would remain a story at most, not an actual event that would pass.

Yet, here they were. Drenched into a winterish hellscape. His mind automatically thought of others.

"How are the nymphs, the humans, and whichever denezins you've let in and think I wouldn't notice?"

Kassandra stiffened a little and chuckled lightly.

"I…probably should have just let you know about them, huh?"

"So, she actually did invite others," thought Hephaestus, "not my business to begin with, but nice to know regardless."

Kassandra's chuckle was the worst indicator that Hephaestus had heard. It was forced and hollow. So, he didn't let her finish, instead looking at the skies. There was no sense of any conflicting divinities. No Zeus, no Hera, no anyone. Whatever Demeter has done, it was done in such a way as to remain unimpeded.

"…Fuck."

Kassandra only nodded.

"The others. Heph, they can't survive this for much longer."

"The nymphs?"

Kassandra actually sagged in relief.

"Wis' stump can protect them, for a time. Eventually they won't be able to handle it but that's a longways off. It's the others that can't take much more than this Heph. I'm…I'm not strong enough. I know you said you didn't want to be involved but."

"Take me to them, now."

He didn't hesitate, running close behind Kassandra. What a hypocrite he was. All his talk of maintaining his distance, and the moment there was trouble he came running. If he was aware of it, he didn't show it. He almost slid out as he came to a stop at the village. Families were huddled around, shivering away near their fallen homes. Perhaps their original village might have been able to sustain shelter in this weather, but the hovel they created on short notice stood no chance. Even with Kassandra's magic bolstering the village, it wasn't enough to withstand the frigid terror Demeter had unleashed.

Igniting a simple campfire would do nothing, but it didn't hurt to try. He conjured a few balls of flame, allowing his divinity to simply do as he wished. It went against every fiber of EMIYA's knowledge of magical control, but the balls of fire were hot enough to bring some solace. But he could feel them beginning to sputter out already. As concentrated as they were, the divinity he had splintered was too small a force to survive surrounded by Demeter's great expanse of power.

"Damn," he muttered.

Kassandra was still shivering, but she smiled.

"We just need a bigger source. A brazier maybe?"

"The issue isn't heat," he stated, "the problem lies in that Demeter's divinity drowning my own. Once it separates from me, it can't maintain itself with her so spread out."

It had only become obvious to him the moment he had tried to conjure those fireballs. This entire incredibly insane coldness wasn't from a spell, or means of divine manipulation. This was an outpour of Demeter's grief, taking the form of a frigid winter's night.

Her sorrow was so immense, it was enough to spread across all of Greece, far as he could tell. The wind itself was being pushed and pressured by Demeter's own presence, creating the utter chill that permeated through his home. He needed to push back.

He looked up. He turned to Kassandra.

"Kassandra, I need you ready in case this doesn't work."

She blinked but nodded ready for anything. A torrent of fire she was not ready for.

He became a pillar of scorching flame, a great orange torrent, tinged with the occasional blue. It pushed his arms out, the flames billowing past the denizins and landscape. Yet, nothing burned or crumbled. Instead, the cold was washed away and foreign divinity pushed back. Thankfully, the mortals were not harmed by the change of temperature as it remained gradual in its increase.

Hephaestus grunted, as he popured even more of his strength. He felt there was still so much left untapped, but thankfully even as that wellspring of might remained out of his grasp, he was not alone in this struggle. From his chest, came his ever faiuthful companion.

The fire bird of legend cried out as it began to grow it size. What was once a relatively normal sized bird, grew to be the size of a boulder, than a hill, and yet it kept growing.

The winds began to die down, and the once frigid temperature began to slowly rise. Ifrit however was far from done.

The bird absorbed its master's power, expanding to cover the entire island. Despite being composed of mystical energy, even Ifrit would find movement at such a grand scale to be quite challenging. But, such movement was not in consideration. It needed only a single wing beat to expand its wings and back to cover the island from the storm, its own divine flames a bulwark to the worst of Demeter's wrath. The sky was now covered by a wall of flame.

It was not a permanent solution. But it would do as a stopgap.

Hephaestus felt the pull on his divinity. It was strange, feeling his power be consumed and replenished at equal measure. Kassandra soon stopped shivering, smiling at her friend.

"Thanks Heph. How long do you think this will last?"

If EMIYA's memory was to serve…it would last months at the worst. A fact he would not allow to happen.

"I'll handle it from here."

"What?"

"Make sure everyone is safe and contained. With Ifrit here, the worst of the weather will be mitigated. Some of the cold might seep through, but it should be tolerable."

He moved, trying to pinpoint where Demeter might be. The concentration of her power from what he could sense was already in a general direction away from the island he had been not just yesterday.

"Uh, Heph you are not confronting Deme, uh the Lady of the Woods!"

"She must be stopped Kassandra. Waiting her out in a dome of fire is not a long-term solution."

Even the most uneducated human was aware of who was at fault for this, even with Kassandra's slip of the tongue. Demeter, the mother of farming and tender of the lands. While unbeknownst to Hephaestus, a similar event had occurred decades previous, though not on such a scale. Yet, the humans looked upon the master of the island, feeling seen for the first time by the dfivine. He locked eyes with them. Instead of annoyance or pity…they saw only indignation. A righteousness despite his words.

Krios was the first to get up. The young boy was gloomy, but even so his youthful energy was quick to burgeon at the sight of the familiar God.

"You'll stop her, right?"

He turned to the young human.

"I will try. That I can promise you Krios."

He smiled, a toothy grin spreading.

"You'll stop her Lord Hephaestus."

He only nodded, but that small gesture was enough to give Krios resolve. Suddenly the young boy was filled with energy, looking g to see where he could help. Already the boy had found blankets that had been buried in the snow, bringing them to the elderly as Hephaestus attempted to pinpoint Demeter's location.

Kassandra was biting her lip, feeling her energy return from all the runes she had been maintaining.

"Heph…you said,"

"I know what I said. This is now, not than."

She only smiled.

"You don't have to make a big show of saying no, you know?"

He grunted, his eyes shining as he finally got some help.

"She's near Thrace," stated Styx.

He gave a mental thank you, turning his body instinctively with Styx's directions.

"You'll come back…right?" whispered Kassandra.

He turned to his, his back hiding his grim expression. EMIYA had made many promises he could not keep, so only a fool would give his word over something so uncertain. But Hephaestus had no plans to fall over something like this.

"I will return. You have my word."

Kassandra assumed Hephaestus would summon a mighty vessel of some kind, as the other Gods did. Instead…he just began huffing it. Granted, the god blitzed forward at a superhuman speed, but he was still miserably slow when compared to the centaur's ability to bend space to twist their way to a destination.

"Good luck," she whispered.

As Hephaestus exited the confines of Ifrit's wings, he was almost torn clean off his feet from the sudden surge of winds. His vision was buffered by a slew of white. Even with his divine senses, he couldn't see more than perhaps a few dozen meters in front of him. The sea had long since frozen over, and under ordinary sircumstances he would simply be sliding on the ice.

But divinity held all sorts of possibilities, and keeping himself stable using that power was within the realm of his abilities.

"OOF!"

…or so he thought as he suddenly slipped at full sprint and flew across the ocean. He was quick to recover, but the unevenness of the ocean's frozen surface proved more perilous than he thought.

He was a quick study and made mental notes to adjust his prosthetic legs for such an environment. Perhaps attachments of some form might be a good idea, as his divinity proved to be less than perfect even for something as simple as this.

While it would be nice to see more, Hephaestus didn't need to necessarily see where he was going to get where he needed to be. If anything, he got faster. He had never actually sprinted with his legs, an oversight that was proving to be more of a hassle than he had meant. The metallic replacements he had made were already starting to show signs of needing to be replaced. They were sturdy and reliable, but his current speed was barely a rank C for a servant, bolstered only with reinforcement.

He launched himself forward, flying ahead as he jumped across the frozen landscape as fast as he could. The sound of the wids was his only company, even as the nymph child floated stubbornly by his side.

"…."

He blinked. His expression morphed into disbelief as he stared at the child. They locked eyes for the first time. A name danced on his tongue, but the surge of Demeter's power interrupted his thoughts, and dispersed the small child.

He hadn't been running for long, but the sudden surge of pressure ironically made his trip all the easier. His toga burned as his back burst with countless renditions of mana burst, launching himself as fast as he could. At one point he was basically launching himself like a bullet with every jump, having to contort his body to ensure he landed on his feet, just to repeat the process again.

Like a bullet jumping into the fray, Hephaestus had found a groove for his movement. Eventually, he turned up to an island shrouded in a violent twister of ice and wind.

It bellowed like the guts of a dragon, the high screech of the wind tumbling into a low and thunderous growl. Hephaestus drew from within him a peerless blade, whose edge was blessed by the Abrahamic god itself.

Durandal, the decedent forged from the remains of Hector's spear. Where other Noble Phantasms would exude an aura, Durandal was instead like a cage. It contained within it 3 miracles from God. Miracles he had no need for, as he used the peerless edge to cut straight through the divine saturated winds. The blade enshrouded in his own divinity was enough to cut through the cage Demeter had created for herself.

The silence was eerie, when compared to the roaring winds he had been hearing since he had woken up. The snow that fell here was somber. The particles of Durandal shattering was right at home. It didn't take long for Hephaestus to travel through this broken region of Greece.

The sound of hiccupping tears was easy enough to follow.

"Kore! Give back my Kore you ravenous bastard!"

He jaw clenched as another surge of pressure buffeted across his form. The very air shimmered from the distortion of her cries.

"She's not yours to take! GIVE HER BACK!"

Her voice was horse, if that was even possible for a God. He sighed, jumping down to a cave's entrance. He could feel the minute traces of other divinities here, of others that had tried to stop her and failed.

As entered the caves entrance, the temperature plummeted and frost covered his legs and torso.

"LEAVE ME BE! You know nothing of what's transpired!"

His body sizzlewd as the frost melted off. A calm approach was best, and his steps echoed his arrival with equal trepedition.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Every echo brought the temperature ever lower, not that it hindered his inner flames much. Perhaps if Demeter was a proper Goddess of snow this might have been a bit more difficult. But none of her tantrums great cries could stop his arrival. He blinked, staring at the large wall of shadow…no, not shadow. The metal was so black it looked as if the shadows were used to create it. There was no gate, just a surface that looked sturdy and metallic, with not a shine to its appearance.

Demeter was beating against the shadowy doors, her face streaked with tears.

She turned to him, her divine eyes alight with power, her silverish tears shining from the light.

"Nephew, you have no place here. Leave before I-oomph!"

Any sensible God would have left. Any human would have been shattered into fine snow particles. Any living thing would be far away from a distraught Goddess. Yet, He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her slightly. He forced her eyes to look directly at him.

"Calm yourself Aunt Demeter! Breathe!"

She sputtered slightly, bewildered by audacity.

"Are you not a slayer of titans?" he pressed with another shake, "cease your tantrum, you are destroying everything around you!"

He stared right at her, letting her go.

"I am here. Tell me what has happened, and I will try to help…but I cannot do that with you freezing the world over."

She blinked, her tears drying somewhat.

"You…you would help?"

He stared at her like she was nuts.

"If this is about Hades kidnapping Perspehone, why wouldn't the others help you?"

"How did you know?"

He stared at her blankly. She closed her mouth, her mind frantic and frazzled. Of course he knew, the shadowy door, her crying out Kore's name, it wasn't difficult top piece it together.

"The others said I have…I have to wait! He's defiling her right now, I can't wait!"

Hephaestus blinked. While it was possible for Gods to do that to each other, it wasn't as simple as straight assault, not when the very action itself would you leave you open to a swift, horrendous, and overwhelming brutal rebuttal.

Emphasis on brutal.

A fact Demeter didn't seem to be registering.

"What. Happened. Start there, after you call off this frigid winter."

She glared at him, and felt her fist shake at the way he didn't seem to care. He had seemed a tad more obedient, meek even, than the others. A fact she had to revise. She did nothing and scowled as he glared at her.

"I gave you my word that I would help you, but I refuse to do so with you holding the lives of others in your fist. Cease your tantrum before others are harmed needlessly."

She did not retreat her divinity, but at the very least Hephaestus could feel the way the temperature eased. It was still winterishly cold, but it was no longer immediately life-threatening. Not that it helps any that were already in the open when this spontaneous winter started.

"Persephone was kidnapped?" asked Hephaestus.

"Yes. My…my brother," she spat, "came across and just snatched her in my domain! That monster just dragged her screaming into the pits of his domain and had the gall to slam the gates shut! I…it won't open and Zeus will. Not. Help. Me!"

The sky's thundered, but nothing came of them. Whatever reasons were restricting the other Gods mattered nothing to him. Leaving Demeter to her lonesome was obviously the wrong move. He nodded and turned to the gate. He had another means of entering the underworld if need be, but he would rather keep Styx a secret for as long as he could.

"If I can get Persephone back to you…will you cease all of this?"

"Of course," she muttered.

"And repair the damaged crops," he drawled.

"…is that a demand."

There was a sense of something he couldn't pick up.

"No," said Hephaestus, "an expectation. You've destroyed the livelihoods of many mortals with this. It is only right that you repair that which you've destroyed. An expectation, not a demand."

He had no grounds to force her anyways, or at least none that he was aware of. He didn't wait for her answer. The faster he got this over with, the better. He approached the slab of the strange dark metal.

It radiated with an energy that was distinctly that of the underworld. There was no other way to put it, it just radiated that odd spiteful and somber feel. There were no seems, no edges, and certainly no hinges of any sort. If anything, it was less a gate to the underworld and more a plug. He dug his fingers as best he could into the metal. His fingers heated up, turning the metal a dull low orange. He dug into the metal, feeling it resist him.

He began too pull, grunting as he fought the material. His arms and shoulders cracked like molten veins, spurts of fire billowing out as he augmented his strength further.

"Grah!"

The metal began to churn a bit.

CRUNCH!

SCREECH!

The middle of the slab gave way with a squeling screech as the slab fore in the middle in a siz-zag pattern. With a final mountainous heave, her tore the gate completely open, slamming the metallic shards to the side.

He turned to Demeter, his body steaming.

"Keep your promise Aunt…I'll be holding you to it."

Hephaestus jumped into the gleaming abyss before him, intent on sorting this mess out. Yet, as he fell he couldn't help but reflect, even if just a little. He really needed to be more honest with himself. He wasn't exactly having a stellar track record. It felt as if he fell for only a few minutes. There were no souls, like previously, instead he was stuck in a long corridor. He could feel the river styx was far away from his current position, but he was in the underworld.

But this was no normal cavern. After all, it was one filled with the sounds of countless beasts and monsters.

He looked in front of him, and then behind. This stony corridor slowly dimmed as what little light could be viewed sputtered out like a dying gasp, leaving on his glowing eyes in the dark.

"…fine," he muttered.

A flash of light as a pair of married blades, altered in appearance, fell into his comfortable grasp.

"I'll take you all on."

-END-

The Hades story goes on full blast! Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!

Persephone is heavily inspired by the Hades interpretation of her general appearance (albeit in her twenties rather than the older appearance they have in the game series). Not sure of a voice actress for her yet, as Persephone, like many of the Gods, are not really singular in the appearance they can have. So her appearance and voice may change by the time we get to the modern day.