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𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬
𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

^{𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐝. 𝐀 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐭 (𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐝.) 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐧. 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐜-𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲, 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐀𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧.}

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𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬
𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬

<sup>𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬. 𝐄𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞. 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬’ 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 , 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬, 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐰. 𝐈𝐟 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐮𝐦.

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐮𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐜. 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟕𝟎𝐬. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝟓𝟎 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐮𝐦, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐛 𝐂𝐄𝐎 𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐱 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡.</sup>

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𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬
𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

<sup>From the Union of Death and Life in the depths of the Underworld did many a god emerge. Zagreus was the first divine being among his siblings, but also first of this new generation of deities to grace the planes of divinity. The Prince of Underworld captured the attention of the Olympians almost immediately. A few of them visited and left behind gifts, and boons fit for the new prince. Zagreus grew quickly in his ability as a god and in his influence among them.

Eventually he was summoned to Olympus, a private invitation with the King himself. Zeus had been keeping an eye on the young prince and was quickly impressed by Zagreus. So impressed that Zeus offered Zagreus a spot among them, and hint at one day relieving his duties to the prince if he were to take his youngest daughter’s hand in marriage.

Zeus had not been the only god among the Olympians who had been keeping an eye on Zagreus. Hera, the Queen of the Gods, had done so as well. Hera’s watchful green eyes rarely left Zagreus, her envy and resentment for her station grew with the passing days as she bare witness to the life Hades provided Persephone and Zagreus. Those watchful eyes of hers did not stray from Zagreus even as he spoke privately with her husband. Hera was enraged by the proposition Zeus offered, and could not stand for anyone but a son of her own to be considered for the throne in Olympus.

Before Zagreus left to return home, he was approached by the Queen of Olympus, who begged him for his help. Zagreus had no reason to suspect anything malicious from the Queen, and quickly agreed to her request. An important attendant of the Queen’s had wandered into the Underworld, chasing after Hermes with an important letter but had gotten lost along the way, and who better to guide them back than the Prince himself? The task was simple enough, and Zagreus set out in search of a stray attendant. Though what waited for him was an elaborate trap, Zagreus searched high and low through the Underworld for the attendant, before giving up he thought to search near the prison which housed the Titans of old.

It was here that Zagreus fell for the Queen’s trap. For the gates to Tartarus had been left ajar, and Zagreus acted upon his impulses to save another being. The hastiness carried him from those gates to the entrance of the abyss where two firm palms against his back had him falling into Tartarus to the chorus of envy filled giggles. Time does not pass in Tartarus whose darkness is even deeper than that of Erebus’, and sanity does not exist in a place meant to torment and tear your being into indistinguishable pieces. Zagreus was tormented by the demons of other beings as he had been much too young of a god to commit any atrocities throughout the worlds. Zagreus’ body became sustenance for the abyssal pit, his youthfulness as sweet as ambrosia to the Titans trapped in the living prison.

It was fate that save Zagreus, the essence of his divinity had been fading when the entrance of Tartarus opened again and the king of the Underworld was saving him from this eternal torment. To protect Zagreus, Hades sent the essence of Zagreus to a mortal family who worked the fields in a humble village. Zagreus was reborn in a mortal form, with no recollection of his godliness he lived life among the mortals, he was the son of a farmer, an older brother, and then a soldier. Zagreus met another end on the battlefield, but unlike other mortals who were carried to the underworld by Thanatos, Zagreus emerged from a luxurious pool of blood-red liquid, the memories of both his previous lives was a whirlwind of pain in his head. The cries of his rebirth alerted the Queen and King of his presence and his return to the Underworld was celebrated by the denizens of the kingdom, but marked the end of his autonomy. Neither Hades nor Persephone could watch Zagreus suffer again and so he was confined to the Underworld, never allowed to leave again.. or so it was supposed to be.</sup>

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𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬
𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬

<sup>The glittering night sky was even more beautiful enveloping the space between the earth and the heavens than Zagreus remembered peering at it from the Underworld. Waking among the other gods, in aching bodies and stripped of their godliness was less of a blight to Zagreus himself.

Unlike the other deities, Zagreus was elated to be relieved of his divinity. No longer confined to the reaches of the Underworld he was free at last. Zagreus remained distant to the secret society of the gods, and further away from his own Pantheon. The memories of old still vibrant and painful in his mind kept him away for decades.

Once the Prince of the Underworld, he now spends his days dedicated to saving mortal lives, and putting those he can’t at peace in their passing. The move to Seattle proved no different for him, taking up ranks among mortal paramedics, he’s kept busy at work and far, far away from the gods.</sup>

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𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬
𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

<sup>Hathor has always been there, emerging from the primordial waters at the beginning of time. She has helped mortals with love and fertility, leading them to the creation of life. She is the one that has protected mothers as they carry and breathes life into every child born so they can take their first breath. It is said that her protection can even reach beyond those of mothers and in the past she was called upon by soldiers for her strength and concentration during battle but she will not confirm or deny these facts. Her protection does however extend beyond the living as she welcomes souls into the land of the dead, helping and protecting them on their journey into the afterlife.

Due to her being feminine in nature, Hathor’s sphere of influence included music, dance, and sexuality. Those features of hers has also made her the consort of several Egyptian Gods but only one held her heart, Ra himself. Another very important point worth mentioning is that she was one of the numerous deities that was seen as the Eye of Ra, i.e. the feminine component of Ra. In that state, Hathor was the deity that kept Ra safe from his enemies. It also brought out the other side of her, one dark, vicious, and blood-thristy. She did not only punish and bring destruction to those that had threatened Ra but went on a rampage which needed to be stopped by her fellow Gods and Goddesses. There are two sides to every kind and she is very much the holder of this truth.

Unfortunately, on a more personal level, Hathor’s love and affection went unanswered because of this same fact. While Ra had promised her the world and to be by his side as his wife, upon seeing certain aspects of her character and with Isis in his ear and openly displaying her attraction, he instead married the other goddess. Hathor was left with a broken hearted but still feeling the need to protect him as she had been made for him. This left her conflicted, angry, hopeful, and saddened though fate seems to be kind in its punishment as he was betrayed by Isis. Set up with a trick to harm him and have his true name revealed (one Hathor never had been blessed with knowing) which give Isis more power. This chain of events lead to Osiris and her rise. It even became where Isis took away Hathor’s followers, the domains that were hers to be shared with this snake of a goddess, and even before their fall this was the start to making her forgotten. A relic of a different time.</sup>

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𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬
𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬

<sup>Fitting, to disappear from the waking world during a war, only to be awoken in another. It was a strange sort of panic to arise in the dust and rubble filled chamber, the fight of mortals raging above as she was surrounded by both friend and foe from a war of their own. It didn’t take long for her to make her way out, to figure out the state of things as they were, how much she herself had been changed, and they all felt the impact of the barrier that was now confining them, no matter how large it may have seemed. A cage was a cage no matter how it was viewed and while she wasn’t happy about it, there wasn’t much to be done. The chaos of the war at least made it easy to slip into a mortal life, taking up work as a nurse and helping in the only way she still knew how. Obviously, things were different and she had to learn how to protect them all over again but this time with current medicine and advancements instead of her own gifts, though the small amount she had left did help in some ways. It was a better way to spend her time than focusing on the real situation and sure, maybe she was in denial but at least she was doing something positive.

The wrap up of the war also brought change and not a welcome one. Colossus was moving to the British museum which meant packing up and leaving the life she had just started to settle into. This sparked the fire of simmering anger she had kept buried after all this time, after holding it together for years she just couldn’t any longer. It sent her on a bit of a spiral, trying to drown herself in homemade drink or getting into trouble just to let off steam at the unfair hand she had been dealt. She found her way into organized crime by wooing one of its members and making sure to prove her worth enough to have a way in on her own before cutting any ties with the man. She might be a woman but she knew she was just as fierce if not even more of a threat than anyone. It was cruel to use someone’s emotions against them but at the same time, she was not in the best of places. This was a way to blow off steam, help some people, punish some others and she lived for it. The lifestyle and thrill made the risk seem trifle but it also helped her forget the negatives. Not aging has its downfalls though and eventually she faked her death.

Unfortunately, with so much female restriction left on anything fun and no longer in a position to grease certain wheels or do as she pleased in a sense, she decided to stick close to the museum. Playing the odd job of secretary or anything they needed as long as she could be close. She wanted to know more or at least have a heads up if anything would be happening to Colossus. It did have her fate and many others tied to it after all. She continued in this manner until she could no longer do so because of a needed identity change and by that time, it seemed things like bars were not able to turn her away without an escort or down right because it was ‘men only’. Honestly, she wanted to roll her eyes at the ways of mortals sometimes but at least improvement was being made. She was just getting into her groove, living one day at a time and at her own pace. She started bartending and eventually started up her own business. Finally, a place that was all hers and she loved it. Every piece of the style and so much pride in what she had created. She spent many years being one of the best around and proved her perseverance as well as her passion. Sadly, about the time she was debating on if she would need another change in her identity soon, Colossus after so many years in a single place was set to move to the Smithoen. Her heart broke having to leave her place and sell it, not by choice but because she had to. Where Colossus went, she had to follow.

Being around Washington D.C. wasn’t horrible and she found herself drifting back to wanting to help people so she started to do medical schooling, and worked to truly become a doctor. Luck just didn’t seem to be on her side, she had to stop just shy of completing her ten years of progress because Colossus was unexpectedly bought by a private dealer and due to be moved to Seattle. The frustration of having to try and transfer, work with new people, and just realizing that there was no point if in a few years she would have to drop the job anyway….she gave up. She picked a random bar to work at and started to just find new hobbies or passions she enjoyed. Eventually, she ended up meeting Tlaz, the two hitting it off and she convinced her to ditch the stuffy bar she had no joy in, to come work with her instead. She made the place sound fantastic and upon seeing it for the first time, she was hooked. It seemed like things were finally starting to look up, though she feels as though she is waiting for the other shoe to drop.</sup>

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𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬
𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

<sup>Zeus had never been known for his fidelity, of that, everyone can agree. Leto was just another woman in a long line of affairs, hardly even the first to get pregnant. Nevertheless, Hera came at her with all the rage she usually mustered, and sent the serpent Python slithering after the pregnant Leto. Tired and alone, with the serpent closing in, Leto found refuge on Delos, the ever moving island. Unbound, Delos floated across the many seas, keeping Leto safe from Python. It was on Delos where the twins were born, first Artemis, and then her brother, golden Apollo.

Suckling on nectar and nibbling on ambrosia, Apollo grew faster than any mortal. He was fully grown within days, and hungry for vengeance on the beast that had hunted his mother. A babe in man's clothes, he slung his bow across his back and set off to slay a monster. He found the serpent at Delphi, guarding the resting place of his mother, Gaia. Their battle raged for three days, and three nights, but as the sun rose on the fourth morning, Apollo loosed his final arrow, and the great Python fell to the ground, dead.

Apollo took Delphi as his sacred site after the battle, and in the years to come, he'd be known as the patron of Oracles. As a young Olympian, Apollo flaunted his divinity every chance he got, leading him into a myriad of troubling situations. Everyone knows the story of him, Daphne, and Eros' accursed arrows. For a long time, Apollo was a sort of proof that gods were just as unchanging as the mortals they lorded over. That is, until Hyacinth.

Brash and braggadocios, Apollo was known for falling fast, and leaving faster. What drew him so closely to Hyacinth, none can say for certain. Perhaps it was his beauty, supposedly unmatched, or perhaps it was the fact that Hyacinth chose Apollo over all his other suitors? Whatever the reason, their love, like everything Apollo was apart of, was bright and splendid. Of course, like anything involving a mortal, it was also fleeting. Hyacinth's choice had angered Zephyrus, the West Wind, and he was not known for his forgiveness. One day, while Apollo and Hyacinth were throwing a discus, Zephyrus swooped down, and sent the disc crashing into Hyacinth's skull. He was dead before he hit the ground. Apollo held him until the sun went down, and on the earth, divine tears and mortal blood mingled.

At first, Apollo was unaware of the wind's crime. It was Chrysis who betrayed the treachery to him, and unleashed his fury. Zeus forbade him from taking revenge on the winds, but he had said nothing about the other Titans, those who'd sided with the gods and been allowed to keep their domains in return for their loyalty. Zephyrus' uncle, Helios held the sun, his aunt Selene, the moon. With his sister at his side, Apollo challenged Helios to an archery contest, demanding that he answer for his nephew's crime. Artemis demanded the same challenge of Selene. The stakes? The coveted chariots of the Sun and Moon, one a shining star of gold, the other a shimmering silver. The titans lost that day, and with their chariots went any hope of a return. The Olympians had taken what remained of their regality, and they had nothing left but immortality.

When the War of the Gods broke out, Apollo was all too ready to fight. It had been ages since the Trojan War, and he was itching for excitement. He and Artemis plagued the Roman countryside, bringing pestilence and chasing away any game. The twin archers were fierce warriors, and while they might not have been frontline fighters like Ares and Athena, they were essential as agents of sabotage. And then, it all went dark.</sup>

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𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬
𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬

<sup>He awoke with a start, reaching for a bow that was no longer there. What had he been doing? Was the war not still raging? The stones around him did little to answer the questions burning in his mind. He quickly realized that he was not alone, and as the other gods stirred, the questions only began piling up. Apollo didn't stick around for long after the first of them died. He'd never seen a god died, never been faced with his own mortality like that. He tried drinking, and whoring, and fighting, but nothing seemed to bring him peace.

The first two years were lived in solitude, for the most part. It was Artemis that found him, and told him the Colossus was moving. For half a second, he considered letting it leave, and waiting until he collapsed on the beach, blood turning to poison in his veins, but he was too afraid. He boarded the boat, and prepared for another new life.

England was more enjoyable, at least after the first few decades. The aftermath of World War 2 had soured Apollo on thoughts of violence, and he resisted his family's efforts to pull him back into the War. Had their lives not been upturned enough? Apollo spent the next decades partying and performing, often finding places within the music industry to insert himself. You can thank him for The Beatles. Elton John too. While he enjoyed the island immensely, when the time came to move again, the sun god was ready to go. Diana's death had really soured his opinion on the country anyways.

America was... well it was America. In many ways, it reminded him of home, and in many ways, it reminded him why the gods had existed in the first place. Mortals were not a group that should be left to their own devices. Still, as far as he was concerned, regaining their divinity was a lost cause, and if mortals were good for something, it was a party. He continued to inspire where he could, but the truth of it is that Apollo, had developed an even greater appetite for hedonism than he'd had before, and unlike Artemis, divine troubles and responsibilities were seen as outside his purview.

Seattle is where Alexander Calimeris was born. The first few months in the city were tough (if he ever meets the idiot who bought the stupid fucking rock, he's going to introduce him to the wonders of sunlight), but he's managed to survive the seemingly endless clouds. He can usually be found in an upscale condo, where he lives with a few other likeminded gods, or at one of the many bars in Seattle, charming the mortals with his music.</sup>

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𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬
𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

<sup>Perhaps Artemis' nature is not surprising, given the nature of her beginning. Conceived out of a tryst between Zeus and Leto, Artemis and her brother were forced to face Hera's wrath while still in the womb. No place was safe for her mother, not with Hera's serpent following her every move. When Leto finally found refuge on Delos, the twins were nearly there. Artemis came into the world, stoic from the moment she opened her eyes. Her infancy was short lived, as moments later, she helped deliver her brother.

While her brother sought immediate vengeance on Hera's beast, Artemis, always the more calculated of the twins, was far more willing to bide her time. While her brother gallivanted across the earth, inspiring mortals and finding pleasure wherever a lyre was plucked, Artemis spent her time traipsing through the forest, hunting the creatures of the earth and exploring the unknown wilds. She did share her brother's interest in mortals though, at least certain ones. Artemis was known to collect young maidens like they were coins, often saving them from the terrors of the forest. Always young, always virginal, always beautiful. These were the benefits of being a Huntress.

Some think Artemis' vow of chastity is as old as time itself, entwine with her essence. While it's true that she took chastity as a sign of devotion in her Huntresses, Artemis did not take her own vow until later. Not until Orion.

He had been a demigod, a child of Poseidon and a princess of Crete. Their meeting was fortuitous, and Artemis, whose eyes were rarely drawn to anything other than adventure, found herself enthralled by the young hunter. She began to spend her days with him, the first man to hold her bow, and those days turned into weeks, and then months. At night, they lay beneath the moon and watched the stars. It was perfect... until it wasn't. Mortals don't live forever, she knew that, but she had not expected him to be taken so suddenly. The scorpion moved faster, even faster than her, and she'd turned her back to him, and... when she turned to face him again, he was dead. She asked her father to bury him amongst the stars, and swore off love and anything that might lead to it.

Artemis was always colder than her brother, more prone to offense, but after Orion she seemed to grow even closer to the wilds that she loved so much. Her vengeance became legendary in the wake of her grief. The likes of Actaeon and Niobe learned that the hard way. Artemis' wrath was terrifying, and lasting. When Apollo came to her, fuming over Hyacinth's death and seeking revenge on Boreas' blood, she was all too happy to help. She'd always thought it silly to entrust Titans with the Sun and Moon. The only trustworthy one was her mother.

When war broke out, Artemis and her brother more than lived up to their reputation as archers. Their support won Ares and Athena many a battle, and their boons were coveted by mortals. War was not particularly interesting to her, but winning... that was everything. They were winning too, at least she thought they were, until the fall.</sup>

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𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬
𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬

<sup>At first, there was darkness. Never ending shadows, impenetrable, unescapable. Soon though, the darkness faded, and dreams swept her away. Orion was there, guiding her through the labyrinth of her mind, until, with a crash, he was taken away again. As she and the other gods began to stir, the dream faded away, and when she awoke, she was not alone.

Perhaps it was a good thing that Artemis was one of the last to awake. Had she had it her way, there would've been a massacre, but cooler heads prevailed. She stuck around long enough to learn that nobody knew anything truly useful, before slipping off to explore this new world.

At first she lamented. The wild places she had loved to explore were gone now, bricked up and replaced with mortal homes and businesses. Tethered to the Colossus, she chafed at the boundaries she was forced to remain within. Already disagreeable, imprisonment did little to temper Artemis' moods. She became colder, more callous. She distanced herself from her fellow Olympians, though she could never completely leave Apollo to his own devices. Gods help the world if she ever did. She preferred the company of other pantheons, and the mortals who fawned to her.

Despite her initial aversion to this new world she'd awoken into, she found her stride easier than most. Her powers might've mostly left her, but she was still divine, and she could still sway mortals with promises and sweet words. She'd always had a knack for collecting followers, and modernity had not made mortals less desperate for leadership and authority. If anything, it made it easier. Wherever she went, she was likely to have a harem of young women attending to her, much like her Huntresses in the time before the fall. Some knew of her immortality, others just thought she was a woman with answers. None knew the entire truth, that she was just a lost goddess, searching for her own answers.

Running this scam for a few decades in England helped Artemis amass enough wealth to live comfortably, while shifting her focus to other matters. For so long, the Colossus had seemed like an unsolvable puzzle, but the journey to America filled Artemis with a renewed willpower. She would not be tethered to this rock until her veins turned black. Her years in DC turned up little, unfortunately. She spent hours staring at the Colossus in the Smithsonian, found myths and legends and paper trails that led to even more questions, but nothing that could help her break out from her gilded cage.

The move to Seattle caught her off guard, a troubling event. Artemis was rarely caught off guard. So, she returned to her own tricks. With the money she'd been saving, she purchased a large plot of land, on the edge of Seattle, where Moon River Retreat was opened and Selena O'Ryan was born. Selling itself as a "holistic healing retreat which aims to reconnect women with the divine feminine essence within them," it's little more than a cult with fancy paint. Artemis has charmed her way into the hearts of women all across Seattle, and the retreat allows her and her more devout followers to operate without scrutiny.</sup>

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𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬
𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

<sup>When the Greeks are brought into conversation, there are usually three who stand out; the brothers, Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon. Zeus, for all his passions, was a born leader, and Hades, gloomy as he was, could be considered the responsible one. Poseidon was the middle child, prone to fits of rage and melancholy as bids for attention. Last to be eaten and first to be freed, Poseidon spent the first millenia of his existence beholden to Zeus for his freedom. He was loyal, and grateful to rule over the seas when the Titans were banished.

With the war fought and won, Poseidon came to realize that he was not a man for peace. Down below the waves he was nothing more than a sunken treasure. As mankind rose from hovels to homes, Poseidon was there, lapping at the sand, and when they got too arrogant, rising up in anger to wash away their progress. When they made it to sea in their floating trees, Poseidon sunk them, and sent back bones. He took fun where he could find it, and pleasure in his power. Of course, this made him something of a controversy among gods and men. Plenty took issue with his nonchalant approach to destruction, but what could they do? Athena was nothing more than sharp words, and mortals could do nothing more than shake their fist and wail at the sea.

Of course, peace would not last. When the Romans brought war to them, Poseidon was among the hawks, calling out for blood. And blood he received. War was where the Earthshaker belonged, a force of nature unleashed. Later, he would stop and wonder if it was he who had brought about the Fall, if this was all punishment for him to endure. But first, there would be sleep.</sup>

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𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬
𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬

<sup>First, there was anger, like there so often is when Poseidon is involved. When he realized that his weapons were useless against the other gods, his rage cooled, at least for a moment. As the reality of their situation fell upon them though, the rage simmered, and after a final explosion Poseidon was alone. That first night, he did his best to drink himself into a stupor, throwing liquor like a man dying of thirst. He awoke on the edge of Rome, still mortal, still troubled. His family found him at some point, doing his best to overcome whatever remained of his divine constitution and drink his days away, but he shunned their help.

He tried killing himself plenty of times, to no avail Humans had invented so many new ways to kill each other during his slumber that it was easy to find ways to harm yourself, but none worked. He even tried the classics, like starvation and dehydration. Both failed, and were unnecessarily painful. He made a note to talk to whoever handled pain if he ever got back to normal, and finally, forced himself to carry on, simply because all the humans around him seemed capable enough, despite their overwhelming mortaldom. With death out of the question, he tried walking, wandering as far as the Colossus would let him. Before, he'd been mostly limited in his time amongst mortals, preferring to spend it tangled in bed with the pretty ones, but now he had nothing but time. Years passed and when walking grew boring, he worked as a mercenary, a fisherman, a chef. As he collected jobs and stories and fond memories, somewhere around decade three or four, he began to notice something funny. He was starting to like it. It hadn't happened all at once, but sure as seafoam, it was there, an appreciation for the human condition and their short, little lives.

Maybe it was the immortality, or the weight of the entire ocean finally being lifted off his back, or maybe he had been a prick and now he was a little bit less of one. Whatever it was, he was changing. He found his family again sometime after England, and he's been enjoying the fruits of their labor on and off for the decades since. Seattle has kept him busy in terms of odd jobs and time at the beach,</sup>

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𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬
𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

<sup>The eldest child of Saturn and the first to be consumed, Vesta's early existence is hazy. She remembers being alone, in a dark, cold, cavern, and then suddenly, a light. A sibling. Family brought her warmth in the days before Zeus, and family is what she fought for in the war against her father. When Jupiter wished to divide the world up, family is all she cared for. Vesta became the mother of all Romans, a warm hand in the darkness, guiding her lost children home.

It was only natural that Vesta would grow to prefer the company of mortals to gods. She spent so much time watching over them and their homes, protecting them from all the world's evils, how was she expected to remain detached? She spent her days walking amongst them, hearing their stories and blessing their food. She had no great romances, or tales of adventure like her brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews. She simply had her travels, and the wisdom she gained from sitting round the hearth, and listening.

When war came again, pounding at the door like it always does eventually, Vesta thought it would be an easy choice. Her family had always been where her loyalties lay. But as the war drug on, and death and destruction rained down upon the mortals, Vesta grew enraged. She could not sacrifice the world she'd helped build, the people she'd guided, for her brother's ambitions. In a great row that shook Rome, Vesta abandoned the War of the Gods, and hid herself away from them. What follows is as hazy as her days in Saturn's stomach.</sup>

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𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬
𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬

<sup>The first thing Vesta noticed upon awakening was her family. She hadn't seen them in...well she couldn't quite remember. As they stirred from their own slumbers, Vesta greeted them, too confused to harbor anger. She was a voice of reason in that first gathering of the pantheons, a champion for the level heads in the room. When they dispersed however, Vesta released the joy she'd been containing. She was mortal, or close enough. At first, she rejoiced in her newfound freedom.

She would come to find, however, that she was not truly mortal. Something still separated her from them, an invisible barrier that she couldn't hope to pass. The lovers she took could not stay by her side forever. The children she nurtured would eventually die. The first move of the Colossus, their first uprooting, was a devastation to her. By the third, she'd learned not to get too attached to the humans. It was best to do as she had always done, listen and guide.

Removing herself from the humans, detaching herself from their problems, proved difficult. Gone were the days when she could simply whisk herself away to another part of the world. Every soul she turned away, each one begging to be let into the fortress of her mind, hurt her. But as they became greater in number, they hurt less and less, or at least she hid it better. In Seattle, she's committed to this same ethos. The Hearthfire allows her to make the mortals' days better, if only for an hour or two, before sending them back out into the world. She is simply carrying on, the way a Roman ought to.</sup>

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𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬
𝗠𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗬

<sup>You awaken curled into the large root of a tree. The overhang of leaves is thick and the air tastes pure and old. Before you sit a large wooden plate loaded with vegetables, fruits, and dried meats. Next to it is a wooden goblet filled with a dark purple liquid. Standing beyond that is a man that seems to be both old and young, leaning on a long staff with massive horns erupting from his head and a bearskin thrown over his shoulder. He turns as he hears you stir. "Oh good, you awaken." His voice was a deep rumble, not thunder—never thunder—but more like the groan of an ancient tree in a strong wind. "Eat. Drink. And tell me of yourself, my foal." You reach forward and go to ask a question only to find your voice gone. "It'll come back soon. Maybe you could do without talking for while. You, mortals, do love to squawk." Your expression blossoms into surprise. "Fine, I shall go first...

"There was child. He was lost in woods on surface. Blond locks and sweet smile were threatened to be pecked away by crows. I found him. In shape of bear, of course. Jyah. Jyah. Don't give me that look. What about this entire place seems natural? Anyway. I took him. I brought him here, to Naiwa. I sat him on my golden throne and named him my son. My Jaryło. Of course, he was not my son by blood. Instead, lost infant was Perun's offspring. Cursed god of sky, thunder, and general shit." Veles spit, it is black like ichor. "He loathed me for calling Jaryło my own. Yet, he left that little bastard in forest. Every time I touched surface, he'd rain lightning down upon me. So, I took to form of bear. It was easier to hide from him. Perun couldn't tell his creatures apart. That's what you get for living so far above mortals you love.

"Years passed. As they do. You, mortals, become wrinkly, old, and impotent. But mighty Veles still rules from Nawia. I sewed seeds of chaos for Perun. Laughed at his attempts to smite me down. And when he turned his backs on you mortals, I gave you magic. I returned your cattle. I made rivers flow deep and blue. Anything to make Perun pause. He was supposed to be your mortal's gods. I could take his followers as easily as I could his son." Veles pauses, laying his staff down. "Jaryło grew up. He took wife. He slew winter. He danced in spring and in blood. A good boy. Until he was taken from me.

"Great irony, scholars say. I call bullshit. I went across plains, demanding his return. Those mortals that knew much and spoke nothing, I cursed. Disease ravaged them. I spun chaos across lands. But I got too proud. Too foolish. What? Gods can admit when they're wrong. Hindsight is for owls with their wicked heads. Perun finally caught me. He sent lightning down upon me and made sure that I'd return to Nawia. Sit on this throne. Be unable to find Jaryło. So, that's why you are here.

"I hear war is brewing up there, but not pitiful mortal one. One between gods. I'm curious. Friends could be made. Bargains struck. Jaryło could be found. But I need to do this not seen." He approaches, kneeling in front of you. The food and drink were knocked aside, you having eaten and drank your fill sometime during his story. He places his massive hands on your cheeks and pulls your gaze up to him. His eyes are dark, eternal, and terrifying. "You're dead, anyway. You shouldn't mind me having stroll in your flesh?"</sup>

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𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬
𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬

<sup>"I woke up covered in ash because they thought they could defeat me by burning forest I was hiding in! I laugh. But I remember black. Soot. It covered me. My large hands, smaller. My mighty horns, gone. Something wasn't right. I now was now like mortal. There were gods that never seen ground. Hah! I walked in mortal's homes and taught them magic. I fed them. I walked them into Naiwa. Jyah. Jyah. Stop looking at me like that. We're both drunk..."

Veles's turn to mortality was a mixed one. He'd spent a lot of time among the mortals, during the good times and the bad—even if he was what created the bad. Yet, when he was no longer wanted, or if his battles became too hard he could turn into a bear and slip back to Nawia—the underworld. Now he was trapped in the flesh of his own doings and mistakes. He didn't care for the steam that rose from the blood of the battlefield. His plan had always been to find a way to outsmart Perun and retrieve Jaryło. Now, both were a moot point.

When the first god died, trying to escape their invisible cage, Veles watched with interest. And his lips twisted as he couldn't see their ghostly visage rise from death. He called out to Nawia, but he heard silence. He tried to shift into a bear, only to find his flimsy flesh unchanged. A god of chaos that had no hand in his own downfall, wasn't a happy one. He cursed the other gods and ventured from them as far as he could. All his plans were on the wind, and he was power and purpose were fleeting. Yet, Veles wasn't purely made of pride and idiocy. As it was said of him:

"Like the bear, he is powerful and wise, but he also has the fangs and trickery of the snake. Duality is his nature and survival is his promise."

So, he carved an existence in the form of a small shop in London. He found other immigrants from Slavic bloodlines, and he told stories from the homeland. Many a бабушка saught him out when there was disease or death upon their house. They referred to him as a shepherd, not knowing why. He tended to his flock while amassing a small following that became criminal in nature. When he was unfortunately upended and moved to America, he found the fruit of his endeavors actually held up. He could contact his growing connections in London. It was enough to get established in DC before finding himself on the West Coast.

The transient nature of their constant upheaval and relocation wasn't something that was hard for Veles to get used to. He was the shepherd to the Underworld, after all. In the shady part of Seattle, he started a butcher shop, importing delicacies from London. He made a name for himself, and the бабушкаs quickly took a liking to him, along with hipsters talking about how "authentic" his sausages were. Slowly, he was building up his blue-collar criminal connections again. If he couldn't seed into the earth with his mighty Underworld, he'd use the figurative one of mortals.

The Medved Butcher Shoppe moved more than cuts of meat, and its old-world criminal influence could easily be seen. He could move things in and out of Seattle with a smile and a shot of vodka. Still, Veles takes kindly to the other gods that wish to stop by and share a drink or two with him. His dalliances are no secret.</sup>