She discerned Cerberus’s eyes the moment they found her. Like a red-hot laser to her flesh. The beat changed as they stared at each other.
They’re ancient and eldritch, too.
The music began to accelerate.
War was on the horizon. Worlds were about to fall. The sun exploded from the sky above. She saw and experienced it all in the melody.
“Today marks the beginning of the end,” Hades’s voice boomed out, adding to the gravity of the ritualistic pounding.
With her gaze still on Cerberus, with the desire to see his face building like the tune, someone roughly ushered her to the dancefloor.
The Day of Dancing
Hades settled back downon his throne. Tantalus refilled his cup.
Cerberus glowered behind the shield of his helmet.
He’d felt each time Cyane had considered leaving Tartarus, like her thoughts, her intentions to be free of this place, were strong enough to provoke him despite the distance between them. He rarely received these feelings, as he was barred from the wants and intentions of the powerful undying that came and went from this place.
Cyane was a mortal, he reminded himself, and that made her weak, incredibly so.
So why am I feeling her?
It was like when Hades called to him. Or when a rare soul tried to swim against the current. But despite the itch, Cyane never actually tried to leave. He sensed it all the same.
He was attuned to this weak mortal.Perhaps it’s because of her weakness?Cerberus shook his head as if he could fling the annoying thoughts from his head.
Either way, he couldn’t feel her now, not since the music began—a tune played by Hypnos and Pan—as she had no thought of fleeing. But, while freed from this sensation, he stalked her through his hound’s eyes. All entrances and exits were guarded by them—by the parts of him that were now somewhat autonomous—just in case.
There was no escape. Not from him.
She was jerked into the embrace of an Arae, one of the many daemons that dwelled here, before being pushed into the arms of old Menoetes, who even from where Cerberus stood, smelled rank from cattle.
No other female would deign to dance with one such as Menoetes, and for good reason. The old undying not only reeked but was as large and lumbering as a giant, slobbering over the females with undisguised lust. Cyane was his first partner in eons. It mattered not how unwilling she was.
She was passed to Trophonios, who brought a smile to her face, then to Cocytus, who made tears fall from her eyes. Each man pressed Cyane up against them, taking in her naivety and her ignorance. They took advantage of her and her weakness.
She is meant for Hades.Cerberus scowled.
He gritted his teeth as something strange took hold of his mind and churned his gut.
Before he could stop it, he spoke out of turn. “Who is she to you?”
“A means to an end,” Hades said.
“Why did you bring her here?”
Cyane was twirled by a different Arae to the lilt of Pan’s flute. The Arae released her, and she fell to the floor with a gasp before being picked back up again.
Hades turned to him. Cerberus couldn’t tear his eyes off the mortal woman to address his lord properly. He would never know how Hades eyed him then.
“Would it please you to know?” Hades asked.
“Yes,” he responded, annoyed. His jaw ticked, and he stretched out his fingers to loosen the tension building within him.
“She’s here to serve.”
Cerberus’s eyes shot to Hades. It was the perfect answer, the worst answer, and the best answer.
