"Brought you something."

Hades sat sunken into his throne with his head supported against his knuckles. His listless eyes barely shifted as Hermes flitted about like an eager sprite, perhaps emboldened by the apparent weariness of his host. The God of the Underworld appeared more sullen than usual, and though he hid it well, even the messenger was visibly struggling to maintain his usual mirth beneath the weight of Hades’ empty stare.

Seated in her own throne, Persephone looked to be gazing upon an injured deer as she stared somberly at Hades. He felt her eyes upon him, but did not return her gaze. Instead, he merely sighed and gestured lazily toward Hermes.

"Bring not your baubles into my domain, Messenger," he said. "I am more than satisfied with the treasures I possess already. Has not Demeter joined you to claim her child?"

"Ha!” Hermes laugh came forced and cold. "Of course not. She took one look at that vicious beastie of yours and wouldn’t take another step forward. She’ll meet the girl at the gates. I’ll be her guide."

Hades scoffed. "I would think my own sister might have even a trace of faith in me. But alas.” He waved Persephone off. "Go. Your mother is waiting."

The delicate fingers of the goddess gripped the armrests on which they’d rested, but she hesitated. "Really? I just walk out?"

"Well, you are not dead, are you?" Hades replied. "Don’t forget to visit the Lethe as you leave."

The thought at last elicited a genuine chuckle from Hermes, who waved his hands emphatically for their attention. "Hold on, hold on. No one’s leaving yet. I told you I brought you something."

"Hermes-"

"Just sit tight, Hades. You’ll wanna see this."

The messenger god sprinted from the throne room and was back before either of the others could blink. He dropped a large sack at his feet, and it writhed about against the ground like a worm caught in a fisherman’s grip. With some difficulty, Hermes managed to grip the sack and tug it open, and Persephone covered her gasp as they all looked down at the bound up Sisyphus struggling after freedom.

"See? Good, right?" Hermes said with a prideful grin. "Old King Sissy-Puss, courtesy of the God of Guile himself. No need to thank me. Just happened by him on my way down and thought I’d do you a favor."

As he regarded the now twice-undead king, Hades’ frown grew significantly more pronounced. Persephone’s features became colored with a mix of fear and contempt, and seeing this, Sisyphus smirked. "Ah, my savior!" he hissed. "Why do you look upon me so? Does the sight of me knot your girdle?"

His biting laughter was interrupted by the agonized yelp he let out as he was abruptly skewered on a stake that shot up from the floor.

"Men would do well not to address gods in so cavalier a manner!" Hades shouted, his voice filled with a fury that shook the palace to its foundations. Though he choked and coughed, Sisyphus still managed to find space for laughter between his labored breaths.

"How many times must a mortal conquer gods before we can do away with these meaningless distinctions?" he asked. Whether courage or foolishness, the question drew a shocked whistle from Hermes, who pointedly stepped away from the captive king in preparation for the worst. Hades, however, replied with neither violence nor debate. Instead, he exhaled a long, heavy breath and settled back against his throne. Eyes closed, he made his decree.

"My Furies will return you to Tartarus to resume your sentence. Expect no visitors this time."

"Mmmm. Indeed," Sisyphus replied. "I will expect no visitors. Only the unexpected."

"No."

Persephone stood. Her hands clasped together and her features set like iron, she strode confidently down the steps that let them so easily look down on visitors to the throne room. Hades regarded her with suspicion, and Hermes quirked a brow. The goddess took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"No," she repeated. "You mustn’t chain him up again. He has proved himself above that fate, wouldn’t you say?"

She inclined her head toward Hades, who leaned forward in response. "Persephone…” Unsure what exactly he was seeing, he didn’t know how to continue.

"Lower him, please," said Spring.

"Lower him?" Hades repeated.

"Yes, if you would be so kind. I would meet the mortal king on equal footing."

After a moment’s hesitation, Hades raised a hand and dropped it, and the stake descended back into the black stone whence it came. Sisyphus sputtered and wheezed as it slipped free of his gut, curling himself around the wound that could not bleed. The corners of Persephone’s lips turned slightly upward. She bent down to caress his arm.

"Poor, pitiful Sisyphus," she said. "The gods have so wronged you, haven’t they? Time and again, you prove your worth, and yet those who claim to stand as paragons above mankind have nothing but contempt for you."

Even weakened by agony, the mortal king could recognize something dark lurking behind the pity in the eyes of the goddess: something he’d not seen in her before. He shivered as her lingering touch sent a chill down his spine. "Your sympathy will earn you no love from me," he spat. "You are still just another naïve immortal fooled by my cunning. You have nothing with which to threaten me and less still to offer."

"Not so," Persephone countered. She moved her hand from his shoulder to his cheek and filled his mind of visions of the verdant haven she’d left behind. "Do you see this?" she asked him as his eyes shined with the light of her revelation. "Do you see?"

"I see," he said. "Fields of gold and green, bountiful gardens, springs that shine like the sun! So this is the bounty that rests atop Olympus."

"Again, you are incorrect. This, King Sisyphus, is my creation, a paradise set apart from Tartarus and the Fields of Asphodel to serve as the final resting place for only the greatest of your kind."

She removed her hand from him, and his eyes lost their luster. Inhaling sharply, he grasped the bottom of the goddess’ gown and clung to it desperately.

"Aha!" he exclaimed with a poisonous laugh. "I knew there was something special in you! You are more than meets the eye. You are my salvation after all and, at last, the one who will see me to my proper reward."

Persephone smiled. "Quite so. Except…” She stood suddenly and took several long strides to distance herself from Sisyphus, easily slipping from his grasp.

Hades furrowed his brow at her. Their eyes met, and she shrugged and giggled. Twisting her features to express deep contemplation, she turned and began to pace the room.

"You’ve proved your cunning time and again," she mused. "Even the God of Thieves stands in awe of your wit."

"I most certainly do n-!” Hermes’ interjection was quickly silenced by the frigid glare of the goddess. She adopted a pout and looked to Sisyphus once more.

"I am afraid that one must possess more than a single virtue to prove worthy of my Blessed Isles. It matters not how magnificently that one virtue is expressed; alone, it can never be enough."

Sisyphus let out a long and rocky groan. "Enough with your coy monologue!" he complained. "If you weren’t going to let me in, you’d never have brought it up. Name your terms and be done with it!"

The goddess unleashed a sharp and vivacious laugh that made Hades squirm in his throne. She turned to Hermes, and he swallowed hard. "We’ll just be a moment. Please let my mother know."

"Eheh. Of course," Hermes said, and he zipped from the chamber in quite a rush.

Hades rose from his throne and descended the steps while Persephone bent down to place a hand on Sisyphus. "What are you doing, Kore?" he asked. The goddess grabbed his hand when he grew near and gripped it tight in her own.

"I am not Kore."

She looked at Hades, and Hades looked at Persephone. And they smiled.