[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/FpCziAp.png[/img] [hr][i]Vanq & Terminal[/i] [hr][/center] In the midst of Demeter’s temple where the Horae had been convened in hallowed ceremony, there was a sharp, exaggerated crack that rang through the air and reverberated off the carved, plant-adorned masonry of the central chamber. A set of six shimmering feathered wings seemed to [i]unfold[/i] from empty space, shadowed traces of light running across them as they pulled back to reveal the tall and lithe figure of Hermes - Herald of the Gods, adorned in his distinctive wide-brimmed helmet and bearing the badge of his office, the twinned-serpent stave Kerykeion. A rolling wave of gasps and shrieks bounced across the high stone ceilings, barely softened by the verdant interior. There were few mortals who had journeyed to this sacred hill. Their bodies had been prone already in supplication to the Horae and Goddess. With Hermes’ dramatic entrance, all flash and awe, the mortals scuffled to their knees, mouths agape before promptly prostrating themselves again, in hopes that neither god would feel less worshipped than the other. Thallo, sure to disappoint her mother, shrieked with the mortals before slender hands could cover her mouth and deaden her response. Her eyes darted to her sisters who bowed their heads stoically, then her mother upon her throne. The Harvest goddess need not look at her for her displeasure to be felt. Almost as if he had not just barged into a sacred ceremony uninvited, Hermes then lazily flourished his free hand and produced a black-and-gold filigreed letter seemingly from thin air as his six feathered wings folded in on themselves to become a single whole cloak draped across his shoulders. “I come bearing a message for Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest,” He announced, “From Zeus, King of the Gods and the Heavens, the All-Father on High, with the utmost exigency.” “You always make an entrance, my dear.” Demeter’s eyes narrowed, partly in annoyance at being disturbed, but more so at the fool-headed girl of a priestess. In truth, Hermes would need to do far more to earn her ire, she found him a welcome distraction from time-to-time. Her head tilted, chin resting on a closed fist, she wondered at what game the mischievous god would play today. “I would have waited for the closure of your ceremony, Goddess, but as I said. [i]Utmost[/i] exigency. You, your Scions, and all of the High Pantheon and their Scions as well, are being [i]summoned[/i] to attend Zeus upon Mt. Olympus, and I was ordered to deliver these invitations with haste to shock the Fates themselves.” Hermes said with zero trace of apology in his intonation as he offered a half-bow to the goddess. His tone was, as per usual, meandering and flippant - but noticed perhaps only by Demeter herself was the faintest of emphasis he had spoken with in places. The words between his words. [i]Zeus is not playing games.[/i] “I see.” She straightened, fingers snapping at her daughters. The daughters needed no further guidance, their presence was no longer needed. They bent towards the quivering mortals, hands gesturing to them to rise from the ground, compelled them to the antechambers. Auxesia, too proud for her own good, paused at the doors, tentatively hoping that the mortals’ departure would be sufficient, but it was just long enough to earn another snap of the goddess’ fingers. The Summer Priestess bowed her head and the doors heaved shut, leaving the sanctum in silence. Demeter rose from her throne fluidly, gilded sheer robes swirling with her every purposeful step, a faint floral perfume emanating from the lotus staff in hand. “You have no time for games today, Hermes? That’s a shame. These mortals come with their banal desires and give me no inspiration to return home with. Yet, if Zeus calls, I will of course answer.” She paused, something did seem different. Such urgent messages were rare, such seriousness from Hermes rarer still. A boring ritual would almost have been preferable to the suspense. [i]Almost[/i]. She stretched out her hand, “Let me see what our King has that requires such haste.” Hermes reached out with a splayed hand, proffering the black-and-gold letter. The lettering itself as Demeter opened it was clearly printed, but the texture made it clear that it was made from parchment - likely artificially synthesized and then aged for authenticity. [center][h3]BY DECREE OF THE LORD OF OLYMPUS[/h3] The Highest, King of the Gods, Father of All: [b]ZEUS[/b] Let it be known that Zeus is dead. His rightful Heir – forever may he rule – has succeeded him to the divine name and mantle of Zeus. Demeter and her Scions, Thallo, Auxesia, Xarpo, and Chione, are formally invited to a gathering of the High Pantheon at Zeus’ palace in Mount Olympus, on the noon of the day following receipt of this note. Zeus will accept oaths of fealty, and make the first announcements of his reign. Signed, Zelos Majordomo of the Highest Palace, Servant of Zeus Almighty[/center] The goddess scanned the letter once, paused and looked up with narrowed, questioning eyes. Her forehead creased as she reread the missive, more slowly this time. Eyes resting on the words - [i]Zeus is dead[/i]. Impossible. All life would be claimed by death one day, but this? Zeus? “Surely this is in jest - how?” It churned in her mind, searching for any signs of illness or decay the last time she had been in his presence. It had been some time, weeks - months perhaps - ago. She had not ever spent much time with the king, yet nothing stood out in her interactions. This was indeed unexpected. “Oh, his corpse scarcely had time to cool before our [i]renewed[/i] All-Father on high claimed his ascendancy. The cause and culprit, I imagine, shall tragically never be divined.” Hermes began scanning the interior of the temple almost nonchalantly as he spoke before turning his gaze judgmentally towards the tips of his metallic fingers, as if appraising the condition of the nails he did not have. “For rest assured, there was a culprit. The former King was murdered in a most gruesome fashion. His remains would not even be fit as fertilizer, if you will pardon my intrusion into your realm of expertise, Goddess.” “Murder? Surely not. Not even you should joke at this.” She had no great love for Zeus, not the friendship she shared with Hades, but she held respect for him - his position. Murder was quite the charge to level, but Zeus was quite a god to die. “Check for his vitals.” Hermes said, abruptly dropping his carefree stance, his voice suddenly flat. “The Captain is dead. His clone has assumed command.” Hermes’ sudden departure from the [i]script[/i] they had adhered to for centuries was something Demeter had [i]never[/i] known him to do. Not once. Her eyes widened, ever so slightly, the skin on the back of neck prickling at something Hermes said. It was odd phrasing but Demeter could not place the cause of her discomfort. If nothing else, it was clear that she did need to return to Olympus with haste, if only to see the truth for herself. Hasty decisions were bad decisions and before she acted further, she would need evidence. Zeus was dead, Hermes - jovial no more - seemed certain of nefarious acts. The Heir ascending, well that, Demeter thought quickly, at least that made sense. It was his purpose. “This is clearly a disturbing time for you, dear. I am sorry you must carry such news.” She drew close, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Truly though, nothing at all to test?” Macabre, but pragmatic. Godly physiology was not her specialty, but with GULA’s assistance surely they could discover the cause. “Oh, I suppose so, but you know of his temperament as I do. He has already promised his court that the perpetrator will be found. The alternative to there not being one is a scapegoat.” A pregnant pause fell into the air between them. “Did I mention now would be a good time to consider gifts? Perhaps you could sell off one of your daughters to him.” Hermes’ irreverent tone returned in a heartbeat as he raised and splayed his free hand while he tilted his head, stifling a laugh. “My foolish children would of course not be worthy of such an honor.” Demeter demurred, and a cold smile crossed her lips. In truth, she required absolute purity for her progeny. Even for her king, such an arrangement would be unbecoming. “I will of course be prepared with an appropriate offering, I am aware of his preferences.” As she was for most of her cohort, desires were not hidden. She saw movement behind Hermes and lightly waved her hand. Xarpo quietly re-entered the throne room, a flower at the peak of its bloom in hand. Her head lowered in reverence, she presented it to her mother without sparing a glance at Hermes. Demeter took it without looking, eyes trained on her fellow god. “But it is not just Zeus who will demand his due, no?” Her eyes brightened, her own game that she played with the messenger god. While mortals offered obols, she always sought some new experiment to share should he come calling. “This is from my personal garden, be careful how deeply you inhale its fragrance.” A knowing smile flickered. “And here I was eyeing the clasp from Xarpo’s dress.” Hermes drawled as he accepted the flower before pinning it against the cranium for his helm as ornamentation. “And rest assured, though his Renewed Highness is most assuredly the King, he is not the old King. All dues that are owed shall be collected, I suspect - and I do not imagine I am alone in that estimation.” Demeter shook her head in faux-disappointment. “You know she is my shy one, do not embarrass her too much.” She backed away, moving towards the great door that would give way to her gardens. “As it was, so it is, and shall it be. You dislike my preaching, but this too is a cycle - all life, even ours.” Life from death, she would withhold further judgment until she again laid eyes on this reborn Zeus. She would gather her daughters and ready them for their time in Olympus. “The reason I dislike it so is because it has always been my observance that life is more of a [i]spiral[/i] than a circle.” Hermes quipped. “Charming as always to chat with you, Goddess, but I must be running. Many other Gods and their Progeny to break the news to. I will be seeing you at Olympus soon.” With a parting wave, Hermes’ cloak split apart into the set of six shimmer feathered wings once more, which encompassed the God and then with another exaggerated cracking noise folded themselves into nothingness. Silence again, for barely a moment, before the door opened once more with her other three children returning to the sanctum. “Yes, as I’m sure you overheard, we must get to Olympus immediately.” The goddess stood before her temple’s throne, hand caressing the intricately carved seasonal motif. “Instruct the caretakers to resume their duties here and be ready to depart within the hour.” She heard the quiet steps behind her, obeying her orders, and snapped a hand up. “Except you Thallo, and you Auxesia. Penances first for your incorrigible nature and misbehavior.”