Familial Bond Mythology Short Stories & Novels

My husband Hades gave another woman my birthday celebration. Then he gave her my mother’s brooch. Then he let our son call her home. Nympha was the flower spirit who had grown up beside him. The healers said a curse was killing her, and she had only six months left before she disappeared forever. Hades said he only wanted her final days to be free of regret. So I was expected to be generous. Even when our five-year-old son, Eren, curled up beside her at the hearth and whispered that she felt more like home than I did, I still told myself he was only a child. Then one night, I heard him say to Hades, “Nympha is so gentle. So beautiful. I wish Mother could be more like her.” Hades only smiled. “Your mother is strict because she wants what is best for you,” he said. “But if you like Nympha so much, I can let her stand beside you at the family altar. She can bless you like a second mother.” That was when I finally understood. My husband had already given her my place. And my son had accepted her there. So the next morning, I placed a marriage dissolution agreement before Hades. He signed it without reading, because Nympha had collapsed again and he was desperate to reach her.By the time he realized what he had signed, I was already gone. If they wanted Nympha to be the lady of the Underworld, I would grant them their wish. But why, after I left, did Hades tear the Underworld apart looking for me? Why did my son cry himself sick, begging for the mother he once pushed away? And why did the dying woman they protected so carefully suddenly stop looking so fragile?

There were two famous good-for-nothings the gods loved to gossip about. One was me, Vera, the little princess of the Star Court, with most of my twin starblood ruined, good for nothing but eating, drinking, and playing. The other was my twin brother Orson. His life-fire was broken, and he was unable to stand being anywhere with too many people. But our eldest brother, Theron, was the next King of the Gods. Our second brother, Drake, was the Dragon Sovereign, who held every gold vein of the dragon clan in his hand. Our elder sister, Sylvia, was the heir to the Sacred Spring, the one art that could rekindle a dying life-fire. Our mother was the last High Priestess of the Court of Chaos, born able to carry different bloodlines of the gods. The day the star sea collapsed, Orson and I gave up most of our twin starblood to mend our siblings' fates. They lived. They became the three strongest elders the gods had ever known. And Orson and I became two cripples. Our days were simple: mooch meals off our eldest brother, spend our second brother's gold, and wait for our sister to feed us. That was until my sweet tooth carried me to a banquet thrown for Circe, the woman everyone said would become our eldest brother's bride. At that banquet, Circe, the daughter of House Siren, held up one blurry memory echo and insisted it was me who had climbed into Lord Theron's carriage the night before, stealing her betrothal to the Divine Court. I explained patiently, "You've got the wrong person. That was my brother. And this is my brother too." Circe exploded on the spot. She used her power to cripple me all over again, and nearly killed Orson. "One shameless slut, one useless idiot. A match made in heaven." It wasn't until my brother and I lay barely breathing that my three siblings tore House Siren's wards to shreds, and the whole realm of the gods shook.

I was the most beloved youngest daughter of the Sun Palace. When my father, Apollo, began arranging my wedding, my three brothers were certain the bride promised to Hephaestus, the Fire God of the Northern Realm, was Daphne, a mortal girl he had adopted from the human world. They took my wedding gown, my red-gold crown, even the Sunset Cloud Sea, and used them all for Daphne's wedding. I told them I was the bride. My eldest brother Orion scoffed, "Father spoils you enough to pluck the stars for you. Why would he ever let you marry a crippled Fire God with a shattered divine core?" My second brother Pyron looked at me with disappointment. "Daphne is about to get married. Are you really going to take her one and only wedding away from her?" My third brother Zephyros stepped in front of her. "You have everything. All she has is us. If you keep fighting for attention, we'll make sure you can't even set foot in the wedding hall." They thought I was just fighting for attention, and they believed that no matter how unfairly they treated me, I would always stay at the Sun Palace. That certainty lasted until the wedding day, when Hephaestus descended from his molten-gold chariot and reached out his hand to me before all the gods. "Helias, I've come to marry you."

My younger brother was severe panic fits. The healers said any sudden shock could kill him. So, my entire life was set to mute. I never dared to laugh. I never dared to cry. I wasn’t even allowed to bleed out loud. My parents would hug me and say, "You're our strong one. Your brother needs us. Be patient with him, alright?" Then came that day. I accidentally knocked over a sacred ritual tripod. The loud crash sent my brother straight into panic. For the first time, my father pushed me away with a blast of divine force. "Can’t you be careful?" he roared. "Are you trying to kill him?" I slammed violently against the stone pillars of the temple. The sheer impact ruptured my heart. But they all rushed to my screaming brother. Nobody looked at me. Agony tore through my chest as I lay on the cold floor, my vision fading to dark. They thought my brother came first. They thought my little blow could wait. They didn’t know that a ruptured heart don't wait for anyone. Not even the gods.