“In part. It also means the owls, the snakes, the predators that make their home on her domain.”
Hermes’s eyes got wide as he slowly started to tally all the things that that entailed. “Those exist on the mortal realm.” Hecate only nodded in response and kept going.
“There is no god or primordial who reigns over their realm in such totality. Even Helios is the God of the Sun, not the god of day itself.” Hermes’s eyes grew impossibly wide, and he paused, raking his hands through his hair and tugging on the curls. He let out a low whistle.
“No wonder Zeus is afraid of her… Why he downplays what she can do.” His gaze landed on Hecate, and she let out a dark chuckle.
“He’s never seen the full extent of her power. I haven’t, either. None of us have. There has never been a time in time immemorial that Nyx has unleashed entirely.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Hermes looked at the door where Nyx had left. “How are night and darkness fighting one another?”
Hecate nodded grimly, as though she had been hoping that her previous answer would suffice, and she could avoid this question. She looked at the pot in front of her and startled, seeing that the cracks were fixed, and the rosemary had started to grow incorrigibly with her magic. She rolled her eyes and pulled her fingers back quickly, tucking her hands in her lap. Hermes could sense that she was anxious about the answer, and he didn’t push. It took another few minutes until Hecate took a deep breath and continued.
“Erebus is the darkness. Nyx, clearly, can manipulate and control the darkness, too, but it takes all her focus. While she manages all the auxiliary parts of the night, too, we can all see that darkness is its most recognizable trait.”
“Right, so they make quite the pair.”
“Indeed.” There was something in Hecate’s voice that Hermes couldn’t place. “But without Erebus managing the darknesswithNyx, it becomes too… all-consuming. It drowns out the moon, the stars, and it becomes so overwhelming that even the owls could lose their way.”
Hermes let out a low whistle, thinking through what it would look like if apocalyptic darkness covered the world instead ofnightas they knew it.
“So…” Hermes continued, “Erebus leaving the Underworld means he’s refusing to work with Nyx… so she’s…”
“The definition of being everywhere at once. With Erebus refusing to work alongside her, inhabit the Underworld and make their trip to the mortal world once a day, it means Nyx is stretched thin keeping the blackness in line while giving space for the rest of the night’s creatures.”
Hermes shook his head and jumped off the counter, crossing the kitchen to Hecate. “What do we do? Can Nyx do that?”
“Of course she can.” Hecate raised an eyebrow at him. “Trust me, her power isn’t what we need to be concerned about.” Hermes’s face contorted as he tried to piece through his confusion again.
“Then what’s the issue?”
“Ignorant man,” Hecate hissed, her temper flaring as she fought the urge to throw her newly fixed pot at him. Hermes took a step back as if he could read her intention. “Always so willing to let women do the work for you.”
“Hey—”
“Shut up,” Hecate growled, her voice taking on a deep baritone echo as her power flickered to the surface once more. “Think critically. Yes, she can do it, but consider about how exhausting that is. It will consume her. What happens to all of us when Nyx gets fed up and simply retreats to the cosmos?”
Hermes felt all the ichor rush from his face. Hecate nodded in mock sincerity as she watched realization sweep over Hermes.
“Darkness would…”
“Consume the world,” Hecate finished for him, a tight feeling in her chest only deepening.
“Well… fuck.”
22
Erebus left the Underworld quickly after that. He couldn’t stay there a moment longer when the essence of Nyx was woven into the very fabric of the horizon there. He even opted to cross over Styx in his primordial form; he couldn’t imagine looking Charon in the face after that. After a few thousand years, the father and son relationship eventually evened out to one of equals, and no one wanted to be on the other end of a judgmental stare from the Ferryman. Judgement wasn’t his job, but when he felt it necessary, it was harsh.
So one of the most ancient beings in existence fled his home under the cover of his own darkness. He knew that Nyx would feel it and would have to rush to correct the balance and that sent another stabbing pain through his heart. It felt like a rock in his stomach, an acrid, sour taste filling his mouth as he crossed Styx and the border of the Underworld. As he climbed upward, the light began growing stronger and felt like it was constricting Erebus on all sides. His heart twisted in his chest like there was a vice, tightening and tightening with each treacherous step forward—and away from Nyx. More than once, he considered abandoning everything and running back to her. His thoughts would drift to how he had already betrayed Nyx and he better push on. He would fight to see her glory restored and only then would he come home, with something to show for it, with proof of his love.
When Erebus emerged from Cape Tenaron, Poseidon and Hades were waiting for him. They had told him they’d meet him at the apex of hell and would go to Mt. Olympus. Cape Tenaron opened into a small meadow, where the brothers were standing, framed by daylight. Erebus took some small comfort in the fact that it didn’t look like Hades was any happier above ground either; he was dressed in his usual black but shifted his weight and simultaneously looked bored. Poseidon, on the other hand, was more serene as you could smell the coast from the meadow. He was barefoot as always, his coral adornments shining brighter in the sunlight. Poseidon could immediately see that something drastic had happened in the brief time since he’d left him at Charon’s pier. He tilted his head in respect.
“Darkness.”
“Hardly,” Erebus muttered under his breath, self-consciousness spreading through his veins in a way that he had never known. He messed with the folds of his chiton and then clapped his hands together once, like he could frighten away the darker thoughts clouding his mind. “Well, let’s get going then.”
The brothers were wise enough to say nothing, all of them dissipating into the wind and sweeping up into the heavens on their way to Zeus. As they moved over Greece, Erebus took note of the little pieces of night that seemed to have escaped the Underworld. It wasn’t drastic—only he could notice it. A shadow that appeared where it shouldn’t, a star that was a little too bright for midday. He was distracted, and before he knew it, they had arrived at the foot of Mt. Olympus.
