Stories We Tell

Crocodile: *stares intently at me*

Persephone blinked, unfazed by the flattery of his own question. Did he think she would grow soft for him because of a few pretty words? Persephone resisted the urge to roll her eyes, her steel gaze hardened. “Several others.” The Goddess answered easily, “A goddess or even nymph that actually knows the underworld in more than rumors. Any of my sisters.” Not Artemis or Athena of course, but Hebe or Eileithyia perhaps. Hera certainly would not fight against a marriage for them the way that Demeter fought, and continued to fight for her. “You would let all life above be driven to the breaking point for a passing whim.” 

The young God bit the inside of his cheek, his sister’s tears hadn’t escaped his gaze and Zagreus was overcome with equal amount of guilt and annoyance. If he could avoid coming home altogether he would. Not out of hatred for Macaria, though jealousy was always a dominant feeling when it came to his sister. Zagreus himself could not place a finger on his dislike, this dull hatred that burned beneath his ribs. Maybe it was born from how easy it was for her to get attention from their Dad or how years on the Isle hadn’t made her hard and bitter. Whatever the reason it hardly mattered now, the boy certainly saw no reason to try and change it now. “You can see it when I’m done,” Zagreus grumbled, “Not before, alright?” He held her gaze long enough to make sure that Macaria understood, before he turned on his heel and flopped on his bed, book held tightly to his chest. “Where’s Dad?” More importantly, why isn’t she bothering him.