The Beast Of Both Worlds: A Drunk Mythology 12 'Til Death Does His Par

And on that note, only one other divinity excelled.

"Thanatos, stop lurking around and show yourself!" demanded Ginrius.

The death G.o.d's scythe gleamed in the night first, as though cutting an opening through the darkness. Then he appeared fully, in his cloak wisp of deeper shade. With his hood undone, Ginrius noted how his hair was actually blonde, and that he only mildly resembled their father. His features were sharp and p.r.o.nounced, from those blood-tinged eyes, lips, and nose that could have served as a side armament.

"Ginrius," Thanatos said beneath his voice. This time he knew better than to point a blade at his brother.

Ginrius turned back to Hades, who wore a hint of pride on his face now. There were very few—even in the pantheon—who mocked Death w.i.l.l.y-nilly. "So, father, why do you need me at all for this? Between the two of you, no soul in the world is safe."

"Have you heard the story of Sisyphus?" returned the elder G.o.d.

"Yes." Ginrius gave Thanatos a sideway glance. Shame and annoyance barred further comments from the death G.o.d. They shared a bit of history, those two. "What of him?"

Hades sighing made the night a heck of a lot chillier. Thick mist crept over them like a storm warning, dispelled only by the G.o.d's next words. "I'm ashamed to admit that the impudent mortal had escaped Tartarus, and is wandering the earth as a vengeful spirit even as we speak."

Still confused by his role in the scenario, Ginrius pressed for some affirmation. "Again, between the G.o.d of the underworld and its pet death G.o.d, what else would I be able to contribute?"

"As you know, even as a mortal, Sisyphus was a crafty one, managing to bind Thanatos and opt out of our deal until age itself sealed it for him." Hades said. In the background, Thanatos started to cough for no reason. "As a spirit of torment, he would prove even more formidable…"

"So you want my help wrestling him down?"

"No, you will commission a cage to hold him for good," Hades revealed. "Build one of the strongest dimensions, enough to hold a deity if need be."

Which sounded a lot easier than done. In summation, rookie G.o.dsmith Ginrius had to build a container that superseded even Tartarus, a literal primordial being older than both G.o.ds and t.i.tans combined, inescapable as far as prisons go. But as daunting a task as it appeared, it was from impossible. It wasn't as if he needed to overhaul the entirety of Tartarus (which would probably take ages even for him), he simply had to construct a specialized cage that would hold an aberrant spirit—with the wayward gifts of a G.o.d. "It's possible…" mused Ginrius. "But I have to have something of this Sisyphus. I'm also going to need the details of his escape."

Hades went on to explain how it all happened out of the blue. Cerberus sensed the breakout and chased the king's spirit, but in the end it still managed to persevere. "The human will is such an extraordinary attachment," the elder G.o.d concluded. "Sisyphus' fear of death extended even beyond his penalty; to such a degree that Tartarus couldn't contain it."

It felt like there was more to the story, leaving Ginrius half-convinced of the account. Thanatos attested to it, looking like he wanted to come clean in exchange for saving face. But then the chief G.o.d had spoken and that was to be the end of it. The G.o.dsmith was handed effects of the late monarch: one golden scepter and a jewel-studded crown.

Before they left, Hades imparted Ginrius with a tip that screamed lazy consolation. "By the by, in a week's time, a feast will be celebrated here, in Athens, to honor its patron G.o.ddess. The entire pantheon is mandated to attend—I highly suggest you complete this task within that frame, as social events like these have proven very taxing."

A full week's allowance wasn't bad, since a G.o.dsmith could craft miracles in way less. But this time the project's scale did not give it justice. On top of that, he needed to prepare for another feast, one held in the more political, more corporate mortal plane.

To shed some light on the gravity of the situation, social events like these were like pageants to the G.o.ds. Everyone had the sole desire to one-up the next deity, making them the celestial equivalent of Jeopardy, the prizes of which ranged from a lifetime of glory to immeasurable wealth. And while they made for some fantabulous storytelling, the abject effects of these games included curses, climate change, and wars that launched a thousand s.h.i.+ps—for one woman. Go figure.

It was time to put his department to the test.

***

Over the course of the week, Ginrius proved to be both a good son and an even finer G.o.dsmith, completing the mystic container within the set parameters. The Cyclops and Hecatoncheires toiled tirelessly with him, utilizing the same techniques that forged weapons like Poseidon's Trident and Zeus' Lightning. The end product was an absolute masterpiece, worthy of its cla.s.s as the fourth great Olympian artifact. It worked with the same concept as the Hephaestus Net (which bound war and love, i.e. Ares and Aphrodite indefinitely). Nothing placed upon it could ever escape—not even intangible life elements like air and fire.

At the end of this tenure, Ginrius of course chose to visit Minea and her mother. He knocked on their door just in time for supper.

"I'm sorry, I've been very busy." Ginrius said after that overdue kiss. He then produced a gilded bracelet for the waifu, along with the walking aid he promised her mother.

"When did you find the time?" Minea asked as she received the items.

Ginrius grinned. "I always have time for you."

Supper ended and the elated mother worked her now functioning leg. When she retired past midnight, the couple decided to go for a stroll around the neighborhood; reminisce about their childhood before they called it a day as well. Sometime in the affair, the idea struck for Minea to accompany Ginrius to the ball. Because what could possibly go wrong in a tourney of supersized egos.

Minea of course had her fair share of concern. "I'm not really sure," she said. "You know how those events go. I also don't have anything to wear."

"Do not worry about the dress. Worse comes to worst, I would forge you a battle garb that would make Athena herself jealous," Ginrius promised her.

But her face did not light up, atypical of a lady in reaction to dressing up. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of… the G.o.ds aren't exactly sport about… anything. These events often go bad and the bystanders suffer most of the repercussions."
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"But you're not exactly an ordinary bystander, aren't you?" debated Ginrius. "You're a demiG.o.ddess yourself. Plus you're forgetting the one thing that made you exempt from all the downside."

"What's that?"

"You're with me."

Minea crossed her arms and gave him the eye-roll, but counterbalanced the act with a modic.u.m smile. "You are such a braggart."

At that moment, Ginrius knew that he had won the round. He puppy-eyed for good measure, made even more irresistible by the stark contrast of G.o.dhood. "Come-on, it'd be comedy gold: all the free-flowing hypocrisy and pettiness, live and unscripted."

Minea agreed under added terms that she would design her own dress.