Haidou

Domos Haidou

"We were forged from the greatest warriors and thinkers, the most favored, by Lord Hades himself- "

"The moment I need a history lesson from you, Georgios, I will be sure to let you know." Abaddon swung his leg over the arm of his seat and stretched languidly. The wood creaked beneath his weight and the chain wound at his hip scraped along the stone floor. The golden links shone brilliantly in the dim lighting, elongating and contracting at the subtle flicks of his fingers. A gift from his old master, a token of his own favor.

He stilled suddenly under Kore's scrutiny, the only acknowledgment he would give.

Georgios huffed, recalling Kore's attention. "What you do not seem to understand is the inconceivable demise of our master has caused an upheaval. This upheaval is a threat."

"Your master sits before you," Abaddon barked, glinting metal snaking up his arm in warning. "Watch yourself."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Kore rested her chin in her hand. "Hades is gone. I am not threatened by the mere mention of him. Things are settling. I've heard of no upheavals or threats that should concern me."

"Then you are not listening," he pressed, ignoring Abaddon's answering snarl. The "Polemistes tis Flogas are proud and loyal, surviving eons under Hades' guidance. If it were not for him, we would not exist."

His fingers digging into the arms of his chair, Abaddon spoke through gritted teeth. "If not for him we wouldn't be trapped in these lands, surrounded by smoke and ash, knowing only glimpses of the sun. Descendants of the greatest warriors and thinkers and we are reduced to guarding a place no one has ever wanted."

"Have some pride," Georgios rasped, glaring fiercely across the table.

"I have pride in my people, for surviving Hades for generations after his deception. Warriors of the flame'," Abaddon scoffed. "A pretty title for forced company of a lonely God."

"You have no respect for history, for traditions-"

"Where have our traditions gotten us," Kore interjected. "Any of us?"

Georgios turned to face her. "They are the way things are done."

"They don't have to be. I know the feeling of being trapped by obligation and tradition."

"But not by blood." The first words Abaddon had spoken to her directly in weeks burrowed their way beneath her skin.

Rising from her seat, Kore planted her palms on the table. "As you said, Hades deceived your ancestors. He deceived me, and he's deceived countless others in between. What makes you believe he hasn't deceived you?"

"Goddess," Georgios sighed. "I have seen many things in my many years, I assume that is why you called the elders here today. I am honored that you would seek out our counsel, and I feel obligated to stress the reality of your present situation. The polemistes are not like the mortals who worship all gods. We worshiped our creator, and we followed in his truth. The only truth we've ever known. There will be some who will resist letting the creator and that ruth go." 

Answering grumbles of agreement rippled from the group of polemistes. Abaddon sat back, addressing the room. "So, we find the honest truth. For ourselves, for those who came before, and those that will come after. As the elders, the other polemistes look to you for guidance. So, it is up to you to help them see the opportunity we've been given. The opportunity for more. With the support of our goddess."

"To our Goddess." The chant roared over the din of chairs scraping against stone as each warrior to stood, thumping their fists to their chests. Kore lifted her chin.