All The Precious Souls

Stupid as the day I was born

Hades

We'd lied to her. We'd sobbed for her to be returned to us for nineteen years. Makaria, our sweet blessed death, had been abused. She'd died as a human with no memories of her life here in the Underworld, at home with her true mother and I. Persephone and I had both heard the gut wrentching screams belonging to our golden haired daughter, but we'd been to late. The deal in front of me is the only thing I could think of that would keep her with us. As selfish as it was. Persephone had watched over her frail tiny body for a week with nothing but unbriddled rage in her eyes for the bastard who'd cause this.
   "Hades, how much longer can we lie to her? She's met her siblings, who she thinks are just other minor Gods who work for us. What happens when she realizes, we lied to her too? I can't- No I won't- lose her again." I sighed, something I seem to be doing a lot this century.
  "Thanatos went missing three years ago, the same night Makaria was returned to us." The crystal bowl in my wifes hands shatters, and a golden wrath swirls in her eyes.
  "The. Grim. Reaper. Is. Missing?!" Her voice shrieks at me, and I begin looking for places to hide. I'd held on to that secret for three painful years. Not only did our daughter not remember us but our son-in-law, quite possibly the only one to spark memories she isn't aware of, is missing with no lead or trail. Persephone's stunningly perfect blue eyes return to bore deep into my blackened soul. "You added the clause because she's the only one able to do his job, Sycthe and all. You down right dirty, two timing son of a bitch! And to think I came home early for you to drop this gods damned piece of bullshit on me?" More sighing.
  "Yes, I lied, again. I might not be the jackass my brother is but by all means I'm not Athena." pinching the bridge of my nose, I try to think of a way to tell Phoebe who she actually is and why we need her to stay without causing her to instantly lose her mind. "I'm hopeing she can find him on accident, Perse. It's possible he doesn't know who he is." The love of my immortal life gives me a look I had never wished to see grace her face but seemed to be the only one ever there. Saddness.
   "If anyone can find him, it's her." She whispers, projecting a image worthy of tears into my head.

   Makaria stands proud at the shores of the Island of the blessed. A white poppy in hand, Scythe in the other. In front of her stands our son-in-law, black wings spread wide and dripping with Ichor.
  "Karis, my blessed death, Please do me the honor of becoming my wife. My soulless heart was yours from the moment I saw your emerald eyes. My sweet mercy, I've been stuck between truly living my immortal life and trying to run from it. I don't want to run unless it's into your forgiving arms. Please Makaria?" Tears roll down our sweet little girl as she nods and lets out a choked yes.

"She'll always be our Blessed Death, but she'll only ever be his sweet Mercy." I pull my wise wife into my arms and let my heart break for the daughter who doesn't know her father has put her to the task of finding her own husband, when he himself has failed.
  "His Sweet Mercy and Her Grim Reaper." I whisper, as Persephone sobs into my chest a little harder.