Percy Jackson : The Odyssey of a Primordial.

Chapter 8: Hecate



Hypnos had no trouble finding the abode of Hecate. She was a chthonic goddess, so she obviously lived in the underworld, and the shadow plane was conveniently connected to the underworld.

The underworld was the realm of the dead. It was a domain where the mortal souls of the Greek pantheon were destined to travel after death for their eventual afterlife. It was an instinct etched into the deepest crevices of mortal souls to seek out the land of the dead. They were moths drawn to the bright light.

The problem that spelled true catastrophe for the souls of the dead was that the Underworld had no order, absolutely no order. The land of the dead was simply a desolate place with five rivers. There was no Elysium for heroes and the virtuous, nor were there any punishment fields for sinners and blasphemers. It was simply a barren realm engulfed in perpetual darkness.

The mortal souls who entered the underworld spent the rest of their existence aimlessly wandering through the black plains of the underworld, gradually losing themselves and eventually fading away. Even worse, some unfortunate souls would dazzlingly drift into the five rivers of the underworld and melt away into nothingness.

The Titans simply disregarded the existence of the Underworld. Nobody among the chthonic divine entities residing in the underworld was suitable or even interested in taking on this enormous role and responsibility. It would have remained trapped in an endless cycle of chaos if it hadn't been for his brother, who saved all the lost souls.

Thanatos, after opening his realm, led all the lost souls of the underworld to Tenebrous, where he judged them. He also temporarily assumed control of the underworld until a suitable ruler could be found.

So Hypnos could finally stride through the dim and distant lands of the underworld in serene silence, free of the wailing and cries of millions.

The river Lethe flowed peacefully beside him, with opium poppy plants growing all along its dark banks. He occasionally bent down to pick up the best plants and teleported them to his castle.

If he ever decided to start his own cult in Greece, the poppy plant would be extremely useful. It was a good sleep aid and the source of the majority of future drugs such as morphine, codeine, heroine, and so on. If he's not mistaken, psychedelic drugs were very much a part of ancient Greece. It was used for a variety of purposes, ranging from medicinal practises to divine rituals.

Hypnos increased his pace toward Hecate's abode as he pondered creating new drugs for his eventual cult, and he soon arrived.

The light from the torches illuminated the home of Hecate, which was a cave. But to call it that was to demean it, for it was not made of dark stone but of pale silver quartz, thrumming with mythical echoes of magic.

The dim yet vibrant fire burning in torches swayed gently, elucidating a divine woman standing in the entrance. She had haunting green eyes and flowing black hair. Her face was as pale, beautiful, and ageless as a Greek statue. Her dark gown rippled as though ink spilled from it, and a silver crown with a crescent moon symbol adorned her head. The darkness of the underworld grew thicker around her, with stars swaying in its dark ocean like the night sky.

The ethereal woman was none other than Hecate, daughter of Perses, Titan of Destruction, and Asteria, Titaness of Falling Stars and Divinations.

"I have been waiting for you," Hecate lightly bowed. "Lord Hypnos."

"Hecate." Hypnos nodded. For a goddess, Hecate was absolutely terrifying. She had too many divinities, each of which was powerful in its own right: magic, witchcraft, mist, crossroads, necromancy, ghosts, the moon, and night. Her powers extended into numerous domains such as the underworld, sky, earth, and even oceans.

He wouldn't be surprised if she could beat most of the Olympians, yet she was regarded as a minor god by them. And the fact that Hecate always hoped and worked to get good grades despite her vast powers totally perplexed him. Even now, in the Titanomachy, she chose to betray the Titans and help the Gods...

Titanomachy!

The realisation hit him like a bolt of lightning.

Hypnos, you're such a moron. He chastised himself.

Hypnos was perceiving the entire situation wrongly. The Goddess of Magic was willing to help the Olympians now and even serve them most of the way in the original story because they were totally favoured by Destiny. She was just following the right path of Destiny and worked so hard not to get in the good grades of Olympians rather Destiny herself.

As he was regarding the Goddess of Magic, Hypnos followed Hecate into her abode. The interior of the cave was massive and illuminated by torches. At one end, there were rows of tables strewn with silvery instruments that whirled and emitted small puffs of smoke from spider-legged tables. The walls were covered in parchments and manuscripts. An iron bench with straps arose on the left side platform, surrounded by numerous stands hung on the wall, each holding glass jars containing organs and specimens from various species, mostly humans.

A dozen worn books covered with esoteric engraving, like runes and alchemical symbols, were seated on the carved shelves. And at the far end of the room, there was a single bed, thick and draped with dark veils of night.

Hecate summoned two chairs and motioned for him to sit in one of them. Hypnos followed, sensing a mystical force embroiling every nook and cranny of this cave, though it avoided him like he was a plague.

It was magic. Magic was, well, unbound and unfettered. It felt like potential given form, and he had an odd sense of familiarity with it.

Restraining his flying thoughts, Hypnos guessed, breaking the momentary silence between them. "Divination?"

"No," Hecate said, shaking her head. "I am the Goddess of Crossroads," she paused. "And you, Lord Hypnos, are about to face a grave crossroad in your path. You've also decided to seek my assistance. Thus, I was able to know of your arrival well beforehand."

In intrigue, Hypnos arched his brows. "Do you also know my purpose?"

"Those who are about to face a crossroad in their paths," Hecate peered at him. "always wish to seek the guidance of fate."

Hypnos understood that it was the duty of Hecate to guide all those at the crossroads. She was in charge of directing seekers in the place of fate. He was not, however, here for Hecate. She cannot grant him the answers that he requires.

"Hecate," Hypnos said, revealing his intent to make her understand the gravity of the situation. "I wish to summon the Fates and seek answers from them directly."

Something passed through Hecate's serene eyes. A flicker that was almost surprise. But it went away as fast as it came.

The Goddess of Magic nodded. "Nevertheless, it is still my duty to guide you." She strode to the shelves and took a large book with a black cover embossed with silver runic lettering that read: "Rituals and Ceremonies."

Hecate returned to her chair and ruffled through the pages before passing the book to him and pointing to the middle page.

Hypnos examined the page. It was engraved with letters and symbols that together depicted a

simple ritual.

"If a seeker wishes to summon the Fates and ask their guidance, they must perform the

Destiny ritual," Hecate paused. "regardless of their status."

Hypnos gave the page a brief glance. "Guide me," he requested.

Hecate stared at him for a moment, and then she said, "Lord Hypnos," her voice growing

deeper and lower. "The ritual of Destiny must be performed in a destined place with a sacrifice. As simple as this may appear, it is far from it. This is one of the most dangerous

rituals in existence."

"Everything hinges on whether the Fates are satisfied with our sacrifice. If they are, they will appear before us; if not, they will turn away, cursing us with eternal misfortune." Hypnos was unfazed by her ominous words. "Sacrifice...." he murmured. Something that Fates could crave.....

He immediately had an idea, raised his hand, and willed his sacrifice to become a reality. Hypnos whispered. "My sacrifice shall be a symbol of transformation, of life, death, and

rebirth."

A long hiss broke in the cave. A green snake slithered into reality, coiling docilely around his hand. Since the concept of the snake were so closely linked with the Fates, this would be the most appropriate sacrifice for them.

Hecate looked at the green snake in his hand, her eyes widening ever so slightly. The magic around her churned like the roaring sea.

"Will this suffice?" Hypnos lifted his hand. He could guess why she was so surprised. He envisioned the snake in his dream and brought it into existence. It could be said that he created it from nothingness. Hecate was obviously taken aback by his power. "Yes," Hecate answered, her eyes returning to serenity along with her magic. "In fact, more

than enough," she went on. "The next step in the ritual is to find a fated place," she paused, looking at him with a distant gleam of expectation, as if she wanted him to discover it.

Hypnos fell into a moment of contemplation. "You said I was about to face a crossroad in my path," he said. "So, the destined place should be a..." he paused. "crossroad."

"Yes." Hecate stood up and extended her hand to him. "There are countless crossroads in the world, but I will guide you to the most suitable one for your ritual." Hypnos stood from his seat and grabbed the hand of Hecate. The surrounding space began to sway like curtains brushed by wind, then the wind turned into a breeze, sweeping the curtains away and revealing a vast desert illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun on the horizon.

He probed his location discreetly, not wanting to draw the attention of any gods nearby. His senses were heightened, and he knew exactly where he was: Central Asia.

To be more specific, he stood on the land that the future civilization would call Afghanistan. It was surrounded by the rising civilizations of Egypt, Sumer, the Indus, and Xia. The thrum of divinity filled his senses as Hypnos felt the presence of thousands of gods in his

brief probe. He almost felt like he was in the epicentre of the present world, of human

civilization today.

Hypnos extricated himself from the surreal feeling and focused on Hecate. He immediately felt her divinity flow into reality. Without interrupting, he peered at her.

The Goddess of Magic walked in front of him. She extended her hands, and two torches appeared in them with a shimmer of magic. She then raised the torches high into the twilight

sky.

Brilliant flames burst into existence in them, and with that, the orange sun sank into the horizon, and the last colours of twilight were extinguished by a shimmering dark curtain sweeping the sky, ushering in a night brimming with millions of stars.

"This is," Hecate said inscrutably, her haunting face illuminated by mythical flames. "the land of Aryana. The first interaction between various aspects of human civilization transpired here—the first exchange of language, knowledge, culture, and trade between mankind." With each word of the Goddess of Magic, Hypnos felt it. In his perception, the very essence of human civilization appeared. It was like a massive river with numerous tributaries that flowed and forked through Asia and Africa.

All of the branches of the river met together in the land where Hypnos and Hecate stood before further branching off into the civilization of humanity.

"This was the very first crossroads of human civilization." Hecate murmured, her figure dissolving into specks of light that returned to the night sky. "I wish you success in finding

the answers you seek, Lord Hypnos."

Hypnos gazed at the fading starry light for a fleeting moment, and then he looked ahead at

the dark desert with faint traces of roads and footprints etched all around.

This was it.

He was here.

The expected nervousness and reluctance did not fill his heart, but rather an absolute firmness

was all that settled within his being.

First, Hypnos willed a veil of Concelament, draping it over the first crossroads of human

civilization and hiding it temporarily from all prying eyes.

Then, under the mighty roars of the river of civilization, the Primordial of Sleep raised his hand, which was coiled around the docile snake. He uttered, his voice filled with power.

"I, Hypnos, the Primordial of Sleep, summon the Fates, the three who are one, the one who is

three."

The night sky brightened. Millions of stars glistened and sparkled, revealing three primal

figures shrouded in an ethereal aura.

"Hello, my dear cousin."

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