Halves

XIV. Hades

Kronos parries my first strike but is unprepared for my second, which catches him right across the chest. In the millennia since the War that deposed him, he has grown slower, while I have honed my reflexes through rigorous conditioning. 

With his powers depleted and the pitiful existence he now leads, I am his superior in physical combat, and fierce satisfaction flares within me at the shock on his face when he realizes this.

He still fights dirty when backed into a corner, however, and watching for his underhanded techniques soon absorbs all of my concentration. Our combat rages, hot and swift, through the depths of Tartarus, both of us drawing blood but neither giving ground.

"Yield, Kronos," I snarl when I finally back him into a circle of stony crags. "You cannot defeat me. This realm is mine."

"So sure of yourself," Kronos sneers back, wiping blood from his lip. "But your kingdom stands on a foundation of shifting sand, Aidoneus. You have no idea what you have brought into this realm."

"And you have no idea what you are talking about, Old Man. Your time in power is long over." 

I call the stone from beneath his feet, causing him to sink into the cavern floor and effectively holding him in place. Although I try to keep my focus, his words regarding Persephone have set me on edge, and my attention is briefly snatched away.

That half-second is all the opening Kronos needs to plunge his scythe blade deep into my left side. 

The agony is blinding, but my anger at having been taken advantage of clears my head. I slam my bident into the ground and the crags around Kronos crumble, burying him in a mountainous heap of rock. 

It will not be a permanent solution, but it will at least take him a long time to dig his way out of that.

I spread my wings and soar out of the pit, ignoring the searing protest from the torn muscles in my ribcage. I need to find Persephone and bring her back to my palace. 

My wounds can wait until after I know she is safe.

I locate her near the edge of the pit, obviously lost. "Hades!!! Oh thank Gaea you are all right!" She does not say any more than this, and her wide, staring eyes lead me to think she is still in shock over what just transpired. There will be time enough later to learn how she came to find herself in the company of my father. Right now, I do not have the energy to ask, and I doubt that she has the emotional capacity to answer coherently. 

I encircle her waist with my right arm and lift off again, her own grasp frantically tight around my neck and her face hidden in my shoulder. I am glad I have the excuse of holding onto my bident for my clumsy one-handed carry.

I have no idea how much weight my left arm could take right now.

By the time we arrive back at my palace, I am hazy from exhaustion and pain. Persephone says something in my ear that I cannot comprehend, so I do not bother trying to form a reply. I hand her off to the nearest shade, with blurred instructions about taking her up to her room, and then I retreat to my own, pushing the door closed behind me.

Unlike Zeus and Poseidon, who love being fawned over and taken care of by anyone with a shred of sympathy, I always prefer to attend to my injuries in solitude. I strip to the waist so I can get a better look at what exactly my dear father has done to me this time. 

It looks as bad as it feels. Would certainly have killed a mortal man, but fortunately for me, I cannot be killed.

I just get to live with a slice taken out of me until it heals. Wonderful.