. . .
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
. . .
Thunder boomed in the distance, like muffled roars of outrage–it was a sound that she hated ever since she was a child, too small and too naive to understand–as though Zeus, the lord of skies himself had known about her existence all along and was already prepared to smite her from his throne, way up high in Olympus.
Wouldn't be the first time he tried. Winters would be most grateful if her lord uncle did just that right now so… why not now?
Slowly, she peeled open her eyes with much difficulty, the sudden flash of lightning overhead making her wince, momentarily frightening her. A beat after, when the sound of heavy raindrops and booming thunder began to recede, she realized she was chained against a cold wall of polished stone, the bindings silver-gray, cold and painful around her already bruised wrists and ankles… staring face to face with a furious, pale face that somehow, in some way, eerily resembled her own.
For a moment, she closed her eyes, releasing a shaky breath, before opening them again, half-hoping that this was some sort of fever dream or worse, a nightmare.
Somehow her younger half-brother, William, had managed to summon the King of the Underworld, god of the dead–Hades.
...her father.
Pain churned inside her broken body, so much so that every taken breath hurts while every single bone within her limbs had been shattered beyond repair, she couldn't even lift a finger... never had she imagined such agony could be bestowed upon a half-god, half-human and have them live through it.
“You have a lot of nerve to bring this impudent one into my temple…” Winters can hear Hades grumbling to her brother, his powerful voice low and familiar, bringing goosebumps to her skin, “...and even dared to summon me to your realm? You must wish to die so badly, little one.”
William–only twelve years old, with her blood marring his porcelain pale skin–angrily retorted: “What else would you do then? Punish me or my sister for it? Torture us to your heart's content? Do it! We have already endured so much because of you without your help!”
The god's eyes glinted ominously.
“Oh?” Hades drawled threateningly as he easily loomed over the boy with his towering figure, “So you do wish to die.”
With all the naivety of a little boy, William pursed his lips, glaring up at the towering figure of the god as though he was already planning to pounce just to land a punch on Hades.
Winters struggled to speak, forcing herself to stay awake for William's sake. They just lost Winona; she didn't want to lose him too, “No, d–don't... don't hurt him, please... he's just a child! It's my fault; it's all my fault..!”
But her softly-spoken words were drowned out by a rumbling boom and remained as a silent prayer, completely unheard by the god present.
The temple of Hades was found deep into the caverns of their clan's compound in honor of her birth, the earth seemingly rumbling by thunder, as though Zeus had sensed, was probably already aware of Hades being in the mortal realm.
Finally... Hades asked William:
“Why did you bring her here?”
“You're a god and... you're her father. Someone did this. I was hoping you'd defend her.” William managed to say, the words slow and measured, as though he was traversing through a landmine, just one wrong move and–
“Gods cannot be held responsible for their children's actions…” For a moment, a shadow played over the god's face, his dark eyes glinting against what little light there is as he recited one of their ancient laws, “...and I never got involved in my children's fights,” Hades declared with a tone of finality.
That wasn't old news.
Winters weren’t surprised by that, she already knew of this.
But William was relentless, “It wasn't a fight at all if she wanted nothing to do with them in the first place!” he yelled with all the frustration of a child.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you for real? Look at her. No seriously, LOOK AT HER!” William shouted, pointing in her direction, gesturing wildly to her broken state. He stood up straighter but his voice was breaking as though he was about to burst into tears any moment now, “The vampires’ King... he attacked us. He tried to–”
Tilting his head down at William in an appraising way, Hades interrupted before the child can say more, “You are brave… for a mortal child, but very audacious to expect my aid for revenge.”
“For my family, I dare this and more” William answered with a hint of pride in his watery smile, “...drill that into your bone head.”
The god's right eye twitched in irritation while Winters gaped at her brother’s insolence, her voice was sharp, horrified–
“WILIAM!”
“What?” William scowled in her direction, stomped his foot like the child he rarely acted to be, “What'd I say wrong?” he complained.
Instead of smiting him right there and then as Winters had feared, the god impatiently gestured for his servants, the undead, who all marched right towards them from the shadows all from different directions; the undead were renowned fallen soldiers of all ages, all who had died in battle and now served directly under Hades, ready to fight and kill any living being on sight should their god wish it.
“William, was it? Very well... gentlemen, take this audacious brat out of my sight,” Hades commanded, “Do not harm him. See to it that he returns home.”
When William realized that his sister will not be leaving with him, charged straight towards her, small hands tugging helplessly at the chains in panic but Winters shook her head sadly at him, “No, no, William, please listen to me,” she soothed, trying to keep her voice level, “…it's going to be okay–”
“Stop it!” William cried, “Stop lying!”
“William, please,” she was crying now watching tears already forming at the corner of his eyes as he pulled and clawed the bloodstained chains, “…you have to leave now.”
“I won’t leave you–”
“William, for the love of all the gods!” Winters finally bursted out, her voice echoing despairingly in the underground temple, “Please just LOOK AT ME!”
He froze, meeting her eyes for the first time–tears, sweat, and her blood mixed and splattered over such a young face–and Winters steeled whatever was left of her heart as she nodded without a word… to the undead.
In answer, her father's servants marched as one and seized William around the waist, forcing him roughly and easily away from her as he flailed and shrieked his sister's name, clawing and still screaming as they took him away, “Winters!” William wailed, hands desperately reaching out for her, “DON’T LEAVE–!”
Unbidden, a tear slowly rolled down her cheek.
. . .
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
