Aine stared at the golden blonde-haired young man, now sleeping on one of her lounges in the comfort of her customer waiting area. She controlled the hearth forming a warm and cosy fire, while having her father disgruntledly throw a soft and fuzzy blanket over him.

“All I am saying is that this boy should be made to stand on his own two feet. You should never coddle a hero, especially not a demi-god. A hands-off approach to raising your children is the standard for most Divines. You are special, the exception to the rule, so to speak.”

Her father having the clearly biased opinion that every Divine’s child should have to live via the mottoes of ‘the survival of the fittest’ and ‘the school of hard knocks’, with the sole exception of his own daughter. He wasn’t even the least bit abashed and said it with a completely straight and even earnest expression on his face.

Aine could only roll her eyes at the blatant and unashamed show of favouritism.

“Ssoooo, I just leave him to perish of dehydration and malnourishment on my doorstep? Sounds like great free advertisement!

“‘Come one, come all, don’t mind the corpse by the door, he wasn’t a paying customer or even a browser. Just some unfortunate layabout that collapsed and I couldn’t be bothered to offer a drink and a sandwich, so the poor sod shuffled of his mortal coil, real shame that. If only he had used the last of his strength to say, ‘What ho, a store of weapons and armaments, how fortuitus, I request a look at your brochure.’, I could have offered him a complementary mug of ale and a hot meal. But oh well, it’s not like the poor fellow would have sung my praises for, oh I don’t know, saving his life! Oh no, not at all! In fact, I dare say it would be impossible!’”

Aine didn’t bother with her father’s opinion, because she suspected he made the suggestion mainly because of his dislike and suspicion of an unapproved man potentially knowing where she lived.

Not that she would say her suspicion out loud.

That would be an embarrassing conversation starter for both herself and her father, especially if he tried to inform her of the intricacies of ‘the Birds and the Bees’ metaphor for reproduction in all its wonderfully awkwardness.

Still, the poor sod was a handsome specimen of a demi-god, though it is apparently very rare to come across an average looking child of a Divine. Odd that, huh.

His golden hair, strong nose, bold features, charming mouth and chiselled jaw formed quite the pretty picture, very top-of-the-range masculine stereotype, if you like that sort of male.

Though she had heard from an ex of hers that said all guys like ‘that’ are all appearance and no substance, she took it with a grain of salt due to the fact that her ex sounded rather hateful about the subject, as mysteriously her ex looked nothing like guys like ‘that’.

More of a dark-and-brooding, bad-teen artist type, if she was honest about her ex.

Her ex had been hot, in a jaded and mouthy sort of way, but even Aine lost interest in that particular type of sexy in a short amount of time. A tad to self-absorbed for a long relationship.

A dark chocolate that was a bit too bitter and not smooth or sweet enough to cover it up.

The blonde on her couch looked more like a piece of steak to Aine, packed with iron and filling, suitable and tasty on any number of occasions and with any number of embellishments. Still, time will tell if appearances are deceiving.

Her father let out a rather loud series of coughs, with Aine finding herself biting her lips in the anticipation of finding out. She quickly turned away while whistling as she walked off to her bar/customer service area, pulling an empty mug from a tray of them as she walked past it and poured a draft of mulled mead.

Aine pondered as she poured, watching absent-mindedly as her father walked over to his previous lounge and side table, picking up his mug of now cool cider, his trashy novel having disappeared. She wasn’t sure when, but she suspected it was around the time her exhausted guest arrived.

The legendary High-King of the Isles and Champion of the Celtic Pantheon, Lugh Lámhfhada couldn’t possibly be seen reading some bargain bin romance novel, no sir. Maybe a grand epic, a heroic saga or a Shakespearian Tragedy, but trashy romance? Not on your life. Aine continued to grin even as her father glanced scheming at her guest, his thought of getting rid of a fly buzzing around his daughter clear on his face as he sipped from his mug. She knew her father wanted to toss the half-dead sod out on his ear, she also knew he would resist the urge to harm the little demi-god.

Finishing up the pouring of mead, Aine opened the fridge to see her prepared sandwiches. Not to toot her own horn but her ability to make an awesome sandwich was leagues ahead of what it once was.

But that was mostly down to the Aspect of the Hearth. It made her a veritable wizard when at home, the more skilled she became with the Aspect, the better and more powerful she would become within the walls of her home and within her Divine Territory.

Which was, in her own opinion, one of the best things about the Hearth Aspect, while within those places, every aspect about her Divinity and even her general ability is amplified.

It is little wonder why the Hearth Aspect is oft considered a Domain in its own right. If it wasn’t that so many other Domains laid claim to it such as Travel, Home and Civilisation, it probably would be. One of the best examples and most famed of the Aspect, is Hestia, Goddess of the Home and Hearth and while born one of the Original Six Olympian Gods, is not counted as a member of the Twelve Main Gods of Olympus despite every other Original being counted as a member.

Aine considered the Hearth Aspect a potent asset and while not individually powerful, it provided an excellent home field advantage and a comprehensive increase in ability to the owner and others if the owner so wished. Hestia being counted for seemingly so little by the other Olympian Gods didn’t make sense to her when it came down to it and disappointingly, she had no one to ask at the moment as her father claimed he had no knowledge of any nefarious goings on. So, she could only shelve her curiosity for the moment and drag out the large tray of sandwiches and pick up the mug of mead.

She had a guest to save from starvation.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Leif woke from unconsciousness to the glorious smell of food, the rich aroma of warm honey and subtle hints apple and spice. However, his eyelids felt like lead, while feeling lightheaded and drifting in a seemingly lucid dream.

“So, do you know which god or goddess his divine parent is?”

The voice was clearly female, one with a smoky yet deep and crystal-clear quality to it, arousing to the senses as well as refreshing, the kind of voice you instantly sit up and pay attention to if you hear it. Carrying the faintest of accents, something that came less from the culture one has grown up within and more from the genetics that formed your mouth and tongue. Like how some people can twist their tongue or others can whistle.

“Odin. The All-Father of the Norse Gods. A god of Death, War, Magic, Wisdom and Kings among others. Highly skilled warrior and leader, a master of magic and wise enough to know when and how to use said power and knowledge, though he is a tad lecherous. Lucky enough to have many sons, unlucky enough that both he and many of those same sons are destined, doomed and fated to die. They are bound to die in or after certain events, in a certain order, in certain ways and so on. The first of the events that lead up to their deaths however have always been thwarted so far by heroes and demi-gods and their children, and their children’s children. All the way into our current Age.

“The rest of us gods have either the same circumstances or similar ones, with our children staving off our fated doom, often paying the ultimate price to do so as well. The only ones that don’t have this fated demise and inevitable end are the you and the other Earthly Divines, your divine sources are tied to Earth and its fate, for better or for worse.

“Like a marriage, except instead of a humanoid or divine being, it’s with a sentient and aware lump of mud, water and rock. With a slow but all-consuming temper, one perfectly content with and very able to devour and obliterate any god or being that irks it.”

Leif felt a little slow on the uptake of his situation. There being not one but in fact two gods standing nearby discussing things that are very likely lightyears beyond what he needs to know at present. Still, more information is only dangerous if you intend to act on said information. The second voice was definitely male, powerful and bold, bright and carefree with a subtle hint of . . . something deeply unnerving.

Something both dangerous to Leif and likely anyone else, who didn’t own the other voice in the current conversation. The woman, no, the goddess, spoke after a slight pause.

“As the son of Odin, can you tell what powers he inherited?”

The god replied smoothly and with an oddly disgusted tone.

“The Aspects of Battle and Judgement. The Domains of War and Death combine and share the Aspect of Battle, while Judgement resides within the Domain of Wisdom. However, the Aspects of the Divine Domains are all a demi-god will ever able to master without connecting to or be given a divine source. Domains are the sole providence of Gods and very few demi-gods ever rise to surpass and supplant their divine parent, which is what they would have to do if they wish to gain access to a Domain. Though exceptions to the rule do exist. The most famous of which being Heracles.”

Leif could physically feel the hair on the back of his neck as a shiver ran down his spine at the mention of one of the most renowned or at least the most documented hero and demi-god ever said to exist.

Did he really stumble on the opportunity to hear how Heracles apparently beat the system to become a god and would this method be useful to himself and other players?

The god continued, his voice having drifted into indifference, the danger Leif had instinctively felt before, gone, he couldn’t help thinking this guy was rather creepy, who gets more threatening the happier they were?

“Heracles was basically a god in all but power even before his mortal death, beloved and worshipped by countless mortals, his name and fame reaching from one end of the know world to the other. His deeds fabled, his feats of strength legendary, his story one of tragedy, labour and finally triumph, his status as a man capable of tasks beyond the limits of other heroes, even other demi-gods, was renowned. But gods can never have even a hint of mortality within them, so despite having the momentum to ascend, the chains of his mortal half, his mortal soul, bound him firmly to the coil of mortality.

“Now some say it was a plot by Hera, Queen of the Olympians, hating and fearing Heracles would do the impossible, as he had done so many times before, and somehow rise to become a god while still mortal, so she plotted his death. Others that it was Zeus, out of fear that Heracles would surpass and supplant him as he had done to his own father, so created his own son’s doomed fate. Another theory is that one of Heracles’ divine siblings did it out of jealousy for the attention and pride Zeus held for Heracles. In all honesty any and all of them could be true knowing the minds and fears of the Divine and the Olympians in particular.”

Leif listened intently as the male god spoke, discovering the background and legends that a Nexus made Reality was built on, learning about the characters within them and their individual and personal relationship histories where key. Now if only the goddess would stop waving what smelled like a beef, lettuce, cheese and mustard sandwich under his nose. Leif wondered why his sense of smell had to be so acute, so tortuously accurate about a silly sandwich, when he didn’t manage to smell a giant man-eating wolf creeping up behind him. Leif threw the question to the back of his mind as the god continued.

“The end result is the same whoever the mastermind, Heracles died, poisoned and in agony, with ironic results. His mortal half, his mortal soul, taken personally by an old rival of Heracles, Thanatos, God of Death, Reaper of the Dead and the Doom of Mortality, to the Underworld and Kingdom of Hades. His divine half, some say bolstered by his fame and deeds, by the love, belief and worship of so many mortals who considered him invincible, having bested even the God of Death in trial by combat once before, rose to Olympus and took his place as a god.

“The other theory is that Zeus saved his son, whether out of guilt or genuine sorrow is up to debate. Zeus, watched with grief and/or guilt at the sight of his favourite son suffering from the poison his skin burning and melting like wax, suffering the effects of dying as a mortal but unable to do so due to his divinity. Unable to watch his son writhing and screaming in agony, his thrashing so terrible they made the mountains and land quake around him, Zeus separated his son into two halves, allowing the mortal half to descend to Elysium, while carrying his son’s divine half to Olympus. Again, whichever the theory, the result was the same, Heracles become a god of the Olympian Pantheon, perhaps the most arduous feat he ever accomplished or his easiest, depends on who you ask.”

Leif would have rolled his eyes if they were open at that last comment.

The goddess hummed in contemplation, before responding, her tone ponderous.

“So, what Domain did Heracles gain? If he became a god, no matter the route or method he took to get there, he had to have had at least one Domain, right?”

The god chuckled mockingly as he responded.

“Good question, one whose answer lends credence to the first theory I mentioned, whereby Heracles achieved godhood on his own merit alone. Heracles is considered by mortals as the first God of Heroes, with the Aspects of Fame, Combat, Strength, Endurance, Labour and Invincibility as he has suffered no defeat without trickery being involved first. In my mind, his Domain and Aspects leave little doubt over how he became a god, Zeus and the other Olympians’ opinions aside.”

The goddess seemed finished with questions as the next thing Leif heard her say was more of an order, or more probably, a request.

“You should go fetch me some more iron and materials from the mine and forest, unless you finally want to let me do it for myself now that my apprenticeship is over, I’ve almost run out from forging Solemn Star.”

The other god scoffed.

“My Alannah Aine has the hands of an artisan, while suited for labour, it should be rewarding labour, you, my Alannah Aine, are Grandmaster of the Craft in the making, they should be used doing what they are best suited. They should be crafting and forging things mortal minds are incapable of even dreaming of fashioning, and what gods tremble at the mere thought of attempting. I will fetch you some more supplies for now, I can use them to help guide you to create some helpers to perform the more menial tasks within your Territory so you can focus on honing your craft.”

Leif heard footsteps moving away, when moments later, after they disappeared, a soft voice whispered in his ear.

“Time to wake up, my sleeping beauty, you should have fulfilled your want of guidance and need of direction after hearing my father’s informative lecture, haven’t you? Besides you really should eat and have something to drink, my restorative sleep enchantment can only do so much to help a body without the necessary nutrients to actually recover.”

Leif’s eyelids sprang open with ease and leaning over him was probably the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, the wild yet graceful beauty of her form branding itself into his eyes like looking at the sun like an idiot. She took his breath away in world shattering shock and awe . . . wait did she just call him her ‘sleeping beauty’? And how did she know about him feeling at a loss on what to do in Modern Age? Who is this lady?