Chapter 9: Asclepius’ Keep
Persephone
The pillars to the entrance of Asclepius’ keep were designed to not only
keep monsters out but also prevent unwanted threats. Beams of energy and magic
radiated off of the stone foundation—creating a safehouse for people like
herself. Persephone and Josephine were hidden with the God of Healing; he
promised safety in return for an obscure amount of gold.
Persephone sat at the dinner table, her eyes drifting to the handsome
servant that placed the roast in the middle of the table. His eyes gleamed a
pale gray, and his build was muscular yet scrawny. He disappeared into the
kitchen shortly after, leaving the Goddess of Spring and Asclepius alone.
“May I ask what’s your goal with Hermes’ death?” Asclepius pondered as
he shoved a piece of the roast into his mouth.
“Everything,” Persephone grunted. She started picking at the scarce
amount of stew beans on her plate, “He stole everything from me. And by the
way, Gods don’t die. You should know that.”
“Gods can surely die, child.”
“Is that so?”
Asclepius dropped his fork and sat back in his seat. He threw his hands
above his head and burped, “Our power, energy, and spirit doesn’t die, no. But
we can surely fade.”
She nodded and studied him. If she couldn’t kill Hermes, the least she
could do was banish him.
“When I was young,” she started, “my mother would let me outside on rare
occasions. At the age of fifteen, I went to my first party. I met this man
there. His eyes were captivating… and he looked lonely.”
“Let me guess, this…man was Hermes?” Asclepius leaned forward in
his seat.
“You are correct,” Persephone took a sip of her wine. It burned the back
of her throat; but she couldn’t help but admire the wood and berry aftertaste
it left in her mouth, “I snuck around with this man for ages. We went to
the beach, studied together, and saw the world. Later, I found out he was the God
Hermes. He was a spy for my mother. He told her everything, from me losing
my virginity to trying marijuana for the first time. That ruined my life. She
didn’t allow me to go anywhere again until Hades came and saved me.”
“Hm,” Asclepius flashed a quick smile at her, “And I assume you haven’t
seen Demeter or Hermes since?”
Persephone’s face darkened, “Unfortunately, he’s the Game Master for the
Trials. I see his face every day, and it haunts me. Sometimes I feel like he’s
still a spy. As for my mother, I haven’t seen her since.”
Asclepius grunted and ate another piece of his roast, “So, what’s the
deal with your friend? Why have me put her asleep?”
“Josephine is…new to this stuff,” she responded, “She reminds me of
myself when I was her age. It’s like she’s still learning how to walk. She
hasn’t even discovered her gift yet. To me—she’s fragile.”
“You still didn’t answer my question.”
“She’s injured, Asclepius. She needs to heal before anything else.”
He nodded along with her words and stood up, “Well, you’re welcome to
stay as long as you want—although I’m sure you’d like to get out of here as
soon as possible. I will go wake her, and you shall be on your way?”
Persephone took a bite of her food before brushing her lap off and
downing the remaining sip of wine in her glass, “I’d appreciate that. Thank you
again, for your help.”
The god flashed a quick smile and went upstairs to retrieve her friend.
Persephone knew that Josephine would be upset with her. This world they
lived in was not forgiving—especially the Valencia Desert. Persephone was aware
that Josephine wouldn’t understand how hard it is to try to explain her
reasoning when the daughter of Ares had never experienced that herself. The
goddess of spring stared at the clock.
She didn’t know how much longer they had before representatives of
Olympus came searching for them. It was against the rules to leave the Grande
Hall unless it’s to Olympus Towne Square—and even with that they needed
approval. They risked everything, even their lives, to hunt down Hermes.
Persephone wasn’t going to waste this journey.
A slender, feminine figure made its way down the stairs. Josephine stood
there, her eyes raging with anger. The light-blue hospital gown she’d worn was
replaced by a spare semiformal dress that Asclepius most likely allowed
Josephine to borrow from one of his previous patients. It hugged her hips
perfectly, accentuating every curve and every line on her torso. The baby-pink
color complimented her seafoam eyes and porcelain skin. Josephine’s blonde braid
was no longer the elegant style that she’d had in Olympus, instead it was draped
across her shoulders and sat just above her tailbone. The goddesses’ cheeks
were pale with distraught.
“I agree to help you—with a near impossible task, by the way—and
you repay me by knocking me out and leaving me in the dark?” Josephine asked,
her angry eyes pointed in Persephone’s direction. Asclepius brushed past her
and made a funny face before he disappeared into the corridor.
Here we go.
“I did not leave you in the dark,” Persephone responded, “I
simply put your best interests before your desires. Thank me later.”
“Thank you later?” Josephine’s eyes were flaming, and Persephone could
almost feel the heat radiating off of them and onto herself, “I’m done with
this. I’m done with you. I’m done with everything. If I get killed because of
this, so be it. It seems you don’t have any respect for anybody except for yourself,
Persephone!”
Persephone’s world froze. Those words.
She hadn’t heard those words since her mother. Since she walked out on
her birth-giver’s world and chose her own path— the path of love instead of
politics. The worst day of her life.
“You only care about yourself, Persephone!” Demeter yelled, “Don’t come
back. Don’t change your mind. If you go with him, you’re nothing to me now.
You’re corrupted. You’re dead to me, do you understand!?”
The Goddess of Spring stood up from the table and slicked back her
ponytail, “Let’s get this straight before we continue this journey. If
anything, you only care about yourself. Not once did you ask me
if I was okay when I walked into your room. Not once have you even thought that
maybe, just maybe, I had a good reason to keep you unaware of what happened to
us in that desert. I apologize for caring just the slightest bit about
you, Josephine, that I made the decision to keep your sanity somewhat intact.
But I’m the selfish one, right?”
Josephine’s eyes softened, “Are… you okay?”
“I’m standing here, aren’t I?”
Josephine sighed and threw her back against the wall, “I’m sorry. This
isn’t like me. I just don’t like not knowing what’s going on.”
“Does this mean you’ll continue on with me?” Persephone walked towards
her. She didn’t notice until now how beautiful Josephine really was. A daughter
of Aphrodite, indeed.
“As long as you promise me, whatever happens, you tell me.”
Persephone stopped in front of Josephine and smiled, “I promise. No more
leaving you in the dark, as you say.”
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