chapter three ;

A glimpse into
the mirror of
mistakes

Aka

Familiar eyes

SOUNDS OF MURMURING AND MOANS OF PAIN MET HIS EARS.

He gilded along the dark corridors; his wings moving along, soundlessly. On his back, held numerous arrows of various kinds; their partner being a big white bow which was glowing softly as if it was blessed by the divine creatures themselves. Yet the dark oppressiveness of the place made the glow seem like a single candle lighten up in the eternal darkness of night.

Eros stopped and pondered upon the door. The skeleton guards shifted uneasily. His hands stubbornly stayed at his sides even as the guards began twitching.

"Announce my presence," he commanded.

The doors swung open. Eros eyed the snarling figure of the three headed dog above the gaudy throne, made of all the precious metals in the soil.

The sound of murmuring and moans of pain eased to whispers, and he held the attention of two gods.

"Hades," he greeted, his voice bland as ever. "Persephone," he tilted his head towards her in respect.

Persephone smiled. Her light green eyes which had flecks of yellow and brown in it twinkled, her aura brightening up the dank, dark atmosphere. She greeted him happily. Hades' eyes twitched.

"Eros," he said quietly. Hades turned to Persephone who kissed upon her husband's cheeks and stood up from where she was seated in the arm of the throne where Hades sat on. She nodded to Eros who smiled, and then walked towards the door, head held high.

The sound of the door closing was loud, Persephone's absence making Hades look grime and grave. It was a high contrast to the smiling face he had when Persephone was near.

The whispers of agony increased a notch at Persephone's absence.

How very amusing, Eros mused. His eyes sharpened with malicious glee that he didn't bother hiding. Hades stared at him, his pale face judging him.

Silence ensued. Eros resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he spoke quietly, "I'm not your dog for you to summon me, whenever it strikes fancy, Hades. You have Thanatos for that. "

Hades let a small smile break out. "We have matters to discuss and I could not visit you on Earth, could I?" He said dryly.

Eros sneered. "You could've left me a message with Hermes or Iris then, O' Lord of the Underworld, instead of summoning me like I'm some filthy half-blood! " He paused, and then smiled slyly. "Yet, your concern for your mortals is so touching. Going soft with age, are you." Hades scowled and Eros felt his lips twitch.

"Stop with the games, Eros and listen to what I've heard." Hades said, choosing to ignore Eros' petty jabs with the ease of someone who has lived with difficult family members.

They both knew if Hades returned 'upstairs', Demeter would try to murder him.

"Tell me then, O' Lord of Death." Eros simpered. Unfortunately, Hades did not rise to the bait.

He straightened, his silk robes giving out faint sounds of anguish. Souls stitched upon his clothes, Eros summarised.

How tacky.

His flickering eyes met Hades' challengingly.

"There are talks about your role in the war." Hades said. Eros raised an eyebrow. "Talks of how you're not honourable and bloodthirsty to our own kind."

"Hypocrisy," Eros muttered, to which Hades nodded. Grecian Gods liked to pretend they were honourable and kind but they were anything but.

Zeus and his father were the best kind of example.

Hades' next words pierced through every being. "There are conversations about your banishment."

Eros narrowed his eyes, his wings ready for flight. "Where," he gritted out, "have you heard such nonsense?" Hades smiled. His smile was predatory and Eros realised his mistake.

Quickly he retreated. "I'm a Primordial, godling. Not a titan who is pathetic to snivel at the Lord of Time, nor a god who gets their power through mortals and certainly not a giant who can be banished or killed." He smiled smugly. "None has the power to banish me, as you said. So your point is moot."

He did not let the black veins of fear affect him.

Hades tilted his head, his dark sightless eyes sensing something Eros couldn't see or hear. His eyes followed the movement of the primordial's wings, somehow knowing where exactly they were.

None could see Eros' wings unless he wished for them to be, which was why the primordial felt justified at the alarm of Hades sensing him.

"And so it is," Hades said softly. "But be careful, Eros. My beloved loves you so and I would hate for her to be crushed by your death." Eros smiled sharply.

"Next time, do not call me for such silly concerns." Was only Eros' reply.

***

Even with his confident words in the realm of Hades, Eros was wary.

He eyed everyone with great suspicion and distrust; every corridor, every doorman, even his lovers. It was maddening, anticipating where the knife would strike him.

Was it back or front?

This was in his mind when he landed where his father and mother were residing.

"Mother, Father." he said, bowing on his knees with head down.

"Eros,"  Nyx said, and he repressed a shiver.

Her eyes were dark, searching and cold- more than Hades ever managed to do. However he tried, Hades could never intimidate him.

Eros grew up with Erebus and Nyx, one who was the personification of dark and night themselves. He grew up with many darker sides of personification like Thanatos. Darkness was a comfort for Eros except his mother.

While Hades' eyes were warm, like spring Sun while Nyx's was hot, like the heat in Sahara's desert.

His father was cold as ice.

"Mother, I've information from the upcoming war," Eros held his head high, refusing to bow down to the suffocating aura that Nyx radiated.

"Pray tell us, son," Erebus drawled. "Do not dawdle unnecessarily." For a small moment, Eros' eyes blazed with fury, like a hungry fire which burned furiously in the belly of Tarturus. Then his eyes turned to their usual; calm and composed.

"It goes well. Aphrodite has her protection to Paris and Helen while Hera and Athena are fuming with the disrespect they had faced. The Greeks and Trojans are about to be in a standstill. The Greeks cannot penetrate through the walls-"

"Of course not!" Erebus scoffed, rudely cutting off Eros' words. "Two Olympians, however unwillingly, had bitterly made them! I would like these arrogant petty mortals to see and penetrate them."

"Husband." Erebus quietened. "Speak, son." Nyx said.

"The Greeks are thinking of a horse, mother." Eros said after a beat.

"Poseidon and Apollo certainly made the Trojans invulnerable," Nyx mused. Erebus laughed.

"Except for intelligence, dear wife," he added with malice. Both of them chuckled.

"Speaking of mortals," Nyx turned those cold, cold eyes upon him. "Are you still frolicking with that mortal, Eros?" Shadows behind her moved, slowly moving towards Eros.

He pursued his lips. "I see how it is relevant," he said coldly. Erebus toyed with his weapon, his red eyes staring daggers at his son. His previous mirth was forgotten at the cheek. Nyx smirked.

"You're not in love with a mortal, are you son?" She moved from her throne, and gilded towards him. Eros stiffened, as she softly brushed up his curly hair. Her shadows embraced him from behind while some curled around his legs, making it impossible for Eros to move. His wings edged up for a flight.

"No mother," his heart started beating furiously.

"Good. I do not want you to end up like that foolish little sun god, forever chasing after impossible dreams." She gazed upon his eyes, and Eros had a terrible vision of getting swallowed in the night. "You're the God of Love, my son. You're made to toy with their emotions rather than embrace them." She stepped backwards.

"Go now, Eros. Come back when you're free of such inhibitions."

And he fell into the dark and deepest parts of the world. He was ripped apart, piece by piece, feather by feather and the world burned. He was swallowed by the green hues of the greek fire; those green and consuming fires who ate away his everything.

He screamed, he cried and finally he was pierced deep by a spear of blue.

Burning black eyes filled with emptiness met his gaze unflinchingly.

"Kalinychta Éros."

****

With a jerk, Niklaus woke up. Breathing heavily, he scrambled to his dagger with haste.

Toy with their emotions, Niklaus could still hear Nyx's soft but powerful voice.

Breathing heavily, he glanced around. He willed his heart to calm down. He was safe.

For now.

Exhaling noisily, he put away his dagger. Dreams are his hated enemy these days. Memories of days past, those filled with pain and sheer loneliness haunt him while his days are filled with peace.

He breathed in. A very desperate method to calm down the sudden rush he had.

The air surrounding him was fresh, the light of the sun was mild to his sweaty skin. Birds were chirping cheerfully, one last time before the sun set on the horizon for the day.

What a wonderful time to be alive. Except it wasn't. Not for him.

Even thousands of years later, his lady mother terrified him. Even after four years of this fictional bizarre universe, he couldn't forget them.

Nikolaus breathed in. Again, in and out. Eyes closing, he leaned back to his oak tree. Its bark is rough and familiar. It was his tree. Somewhere, he can go when things get well.

"I should go to my mother," he mumbled. Esther would tan him if he stayed out late again. "She'll be worried."

He should be helping his mother with his younger siblings but there's only so many cries of children he could take until he needs a break.

He doesn't know how Finn or Ejnar do this. He doesn't know how his mother or father do it.

He loves little Kol, the mischievous little shit who needs no excuse to fling dirt onto Ejnar, or loud Rebekah, who was so curious and drools more than showers from a storm.

They're precious but he needs peace sometimes.

But he'll not, Nikolaus thinks bitterly. One more time. He knows. One more sibling, and the end is near.

Nikolaus doesn't remember much of his previous life, as always he won't when years pass by in his next life—but he knows the end will be near with that child.

Sighing he stood up. Nikolaus took up the buckets, filled to the brim with a grunt. The Sun's rays were going down, and darkness was slowly creeping in. Father would be calling him to come back soon.

Even if in the dark of the night, he wonders if he's doing anything right. He wonders if he's doing justice to the original Niklaus whose body Ero—no, Castiel stole without your permission.

He shook his head at his foolish thoughts.

A low growl snapped him out of his thoughts. The sounds of leaves snapping met his ears. Warily, he put down the buckets to the ground and turned back.

His eyes met the brown fur at first. Coarse fur, and strong legs of a predator. Nikolaus felt the little hairs in his neck stand up.

Gulping soundlessly, he met its eyes.

They were blue. Eyes that looked so familiar to him.

"Fuck." He took a step from the wolf.

"Fuck," he repeated, when the wolf tilted its head,as if curious.

Stupid, he chided himself. You should've ran away or called for help, you stupid boy. Now you're going to end up with a meal for a wolf.

Wolves can smell your fear, he recalled Mikel's voice, strong and powerful. His father was the most efficient hunter and protector of their village, and he couldn't be any prouder.  Do not show your weakness.

He contemplated that, but now he wished his father was here. Mikel would know what to do unlike him, who's trying and failing to not show his fear.

"Stay-stay back," he stuttered, when the wolf took a step towards. To his surprise, the wolf listened. It furrowed its brows— do wolves even do that? — and wagged its tail cheerfully.

Wolf and the boy observed each other. Eyes so similar yet so different.

Nikolaus flinched when he heard footsteps and his name being called out.

"Nikolaus!" His father yelled, sounding tired and annoyed. The wolf snarled at the voice and he took a step back in fright.

"Child, I'm in no mood for your games
—Nikolaus, where are you son?!"
His voice was panicking now. Nikolaus could hear the sound of leaves snapping loudly. His father must've seen the wolf by now.

It was as if the world had stopped. Nikolaus was frozen and the wolf—

The wolf stopped snarling for a moment and looked at Nikolaus, eyes down as if he's familiar.

Such sad eyes, such longing, pleading and asking him to understand but what?

I'm sorry, Nikolaus tried to say wordlessly. Then it runs, and an arrow flies, making the boy startle. The wolf misses it by an inch. Mikel swears under his breath but does not go after it.

Nikolaus stared at it, eyebrows raised. He blinked when something obscured his vision.

"Are you alright, my boy?" Mikael asked, his hands stroking his hair and cheeks, looking for any injuries. Nikolaus nods but couldn't answer.

He lets Mikael tug him to a hug, and lets himself sob on his shoulders.

--𝝥𝝥--