There had been a time where Hades heard the Creator speak. Only once, did They reach out to him, when the world was alive and new and he was given his purpose to be. The words brushed against his mind, and he remembered them fondly-- like a comforting caress.<i>Life is a gift. There will be many gifts presented to you. Take care of them, Hades. For once they are brought to you, there will be no other to do so. </i><br/><br/>Not everyone had been so fortunate to gain the Creator's confidence, it had seemed. Most of the Gods even doubted the might of the Creator, simply because they found their own viable power the most assuring. After all, the Gods were responsible for what happened in the Other World; and the mortal creatures there sang all of their praises, to some degree. They loved the warmth of the sun and loved to watch it be drawn across the sky. They loved the quiet restfulness of the night and most chose to revel in its time, lost to dreams. They loved the waters that nourished the Mother Earth and respected the seas that the traveled to learn more of Her. They loved the harvest and the resources that it wrought.<br/><br/>There was so much love in this world, but none, it seemed, could be spared for the god of the darkness. No one, even those who cast it upon others, loved Death. But love was not the gift that he waited for. It didn't matter if they loved him. Hades knew that, in time, all would come before him and traverse his river of Styx.<br/><br/>But even with every "gift" brought to its final place in his realm, Hades was acutely aware that, in truth, he was alone. No one ever came willingly, and those who did arrive were never happy to be there. The misery of the first souls that entered the Nethers permeated the soil and withered the trees. The branches twisted onward as time went on, but never bore leaf of fruit. Every soul, man and beast, went forth to the river and shuddered away from him should he ever approach. He was their gatekeeper, the overseer they were told would keep them there. His presence was not welcome with the mortals.<br/><br/>The Gods were the same-- there was a time that they sneered at the sight of him. Zeus, the Almighty as he was often called, had once described him as a ghoul-- a pale wisp that hardly existed at all. And perhaps there was some truth to it. Hades had spent so much time tending to his keep and all that entered that he had not once seen the glory of the sun. His world was void of color and sound, as it was meant to be a place of rest as he had come to understand. Even the souls ceased their weeping eventually the further they drifted. But that did not take the sting from the dismissal, and he had taken it to heart. Hades stopped appearing before them.<br/><br/>And then one day, things were different. Something, perhaps the Fates, had beckoned him to the edge of the gnarled forest that he called his home and he found that there was a place where the trees suddenly stopped growing. Instead, what lay before him was soft emerald grass, a sky painted in a color that he had never seen, and at a distance--<i>her.</i><br/><br/>He did not know who she was. She was beautiful. She was like nothing he had ever experienced. Flowers followed her footsteps, and suddenly Hades realized that there was more to this world and the next than the inevitable rest and the silent snow. He found it harder to breathe as he realized who she was.<br/><br/><i>She</i>was the gift giver.<i>She </i>was life.<br/><br/>She had only been there for a few moments, but Hades cherished each of them as he went back into his own realm. But it had not been long enough. Without even looking his way, she had given him something he had never had-- hope. He hoped to experience color and life for another handful of seconds. He hope that she would come so close to the meadow's edge once more. He hoped to see her again.<br/><br/>And, to his delight, he did. He dutifully wandered the edge of the snow covered forest, watching the rolling hills for just a glimpse of her. There were times when she did not appear before him, but his heart was full when he realized that the flowers had begun to come closer to the line of trees. One those days, he would dare to venture past his realm's borders, just brush his fingers against the delicate petals-- just to feel the touch of something else. But he would always retreat before the flowers petals could fall. They were instead preserved, bowing with the weight of the frost that kept them encased. Frozen in time, to be admired, but not to join him on the other side.<br/><br/>Time marched on. She came and she went. There were times where she stayed away for longer than he thought he could stand, but he always found relief in a new bloom, close to his home. So he continued to watch, telling himself that it had to be enough. What more could there have been?<br/><br/>But Hades did not realize how the world could change with a single voice, and then she called out to him. His head swam and he suddenly forgot how things were meant to be. She wanted to see him? Had she noticed him? Was it the flowers? Emotions he could not readily identify solidified as a lump in his throat that he struggled to swallow around and he gripped a tree for support as his legs felt as if they were going to melt beneath him. Even her voice brimmed with warmth. What<i>was</i>she?<br/><br/>Hades was not a courageous god, so it was a surprise to even him when he began to step out from beyond the shadows of the forest. He hesitated, foot hovering over the plush grass and out of the ankle deep snow. Nothing would ever be the same again, he knew.<br/><br/>Hades stepped out into the light. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the setting sun. He was nothing like the stories said; no one had seen him long enough for an accurate depiction, it seemed. His hair, his skin, even the clothes draped over his thin frame, were all white and covered in snow. Frost coated his lashes and made light of the only splash of color on him-- his eyes were golden, like his brothers-- Poseidon and Zeus. It was the mark of their mother, Gaia.<br/><br/>He hesitated as he saw that he was standing before her. The grasses around him froze in place. Slowly, he dipped into a bow before her. "Hello..." he spoke and his breath curled in front of his lips. It had been such a long time since he had heard his own voice. It crackled from lack of use. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I didn't mean to frighten you. My apologies. It's just... your flowers..." His words trailed as he looked away. "...I do not see many of them. They're beautiful."