abraxaslogs | May open

Coming back from the strange alternate version of the future took some adjusting. Even if Zagreus had still, on the whole, been himself - it was a disorienting experience.

What he didn’t expect, however, was to miss the goats.

They were never even real in the first place! And yet…somehow Zagreus misses them. And feels oddly guilty about the fact that they don’t actually get to exist.

So he might have ended up heading to his Domain, and just…made them. Like he did with Cerberus, except rather more intentional this time. Just like he remembered them. Two skeletal goats, their horns and hooves alight with flame.

Zagreus regretted this act of creation almost immediately after making it.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to eat that!” he says, as one of the goats d bites at the pile of towels Zagreus set up next to the river Styx. He tries to yank the towel from its mouth, but the goat stubbornly hangs on. “Blood and Darkness, I think I might have made you too much like how I remember…”

He’d meant to do this earlier, really. He’d arrived in a world ruled by a different pantheon of gods; Zagreus was an interloper and he knew it. Basic civility demanded that he go and introduce himself.

Except, well…things had gotten in the way. But better late than never, surely?

So, now Zagreus is taking the time to make some proper introductions. He visits the Shrine of each god in Solvunn (or at least, each one he knows about). He leaves an appropriate offering at each, according to what the locals have told him about what they like.

“In the name of Hades…please accept this message,” he says, kneeling down before each shrine. “I am sorry for not visiting earlier. Been rather distracted since I arrived here, and I didn’t realise just how long it’s been, and then I ended up living a rather extensive mass hallucination, and…well.

“But I did want to introduce myself properly. I’m Zagreus, Prince of the Underworld and God of Blood. Or at least...I am at home. But I promise you I have no intention of intruding upon your domains or your authority.

“Please accept my offering, and know that I’m honoured to be here as a guest in your world.”

If Zagreus wanted time to think, time to process - the best way to do it was usually to head out into Tartarus. Battle all of his father’s wretched shades, and fight his way to the Surface. Always cathartic, that was.

But he couldn’t go to Tartarus, and there weren’t any shades around here. So he had to fall back on the next best thing: hunting monsters.

He’d made sure to take Aloy’s keepsake with him, and acquired a spear from the locals (with some convincing). And then he’d headed out, looking for something to fight.

Perhaps someone else on the monster hunting crew would join him. He’s not used to having a companion, but he wouldn’t mind one. Or maybe he’ll encounter someone in need of a little protection, or just making their own way throughout the commune.

After everything she's experienced, Claire finds herself with a new appreciation for the shrines. She misses her forest, and while she dare not go deep into the woods of Solvunn, she knows of a shrine that's safe enough and makes her way there with a magicked wreath of pine and decorated with soft orange flowers for guidance. The trees surrounding this particular shrine make her feel more settled than she has in days.

She doesn't expect to see anyone else but recognizes Zagreus by his flaming feet, first. Keeping a respectable distance, she can overhear him only as a mumble, unable to make out his words. She can tell when he's finished, though, and makes her way forward. She's lost her intimidating height, but she's kept her long, silver hair that slightly glows. For now, it's in loose curls tumbling down her back and stopping at her waist. Claire looks tired; no longer immortal, not sleeping takes a toll, but she still manages a smile.

"It's good to see you Zagreus." Even if what she did was so out of character for her, that she hasn't quite wrapped her mind around it yet.

"I think the gods will appreciate your offering, now that I can speak from experience."

The equinox has since passed, but one particular shrine is still adorned with bright offerings. Flowers delivered alone, in bouquet, woven into crowns or other intricate designs are all laid about the main edifice. Everything about the shrine is friendly and welcoming and it is clearly a popular one.

The response isn't immediate, but after a moment Zagreus will feel a warm and gentle breeze and hear the flapping of wings. Perched at the top of wood and stone is a raven that is too inquisitive to have been a coincidence. It looks down at Zagreus, sizing him up from above.

Cawing once, it drops a bright red berry down towards him. If he catches it, he will see that the raven is watching expectantly.

"You've got a new look mate!" Zagreus says, giving her a wide smile as he rises from the shrine. "It suits you. And it's good to see you too."

There's no answer back, not from the god of this shrine. Something he knows to expect as well, after their...visit? Vision? Mass hallucination? The ways of gods weren't new to Zagreus, but the particular quirks unique to this world's pantheon were something he understood a little better now.

"I never doubted that they would. Everybody likes gifts! Mortals too, I'm sure. And...speaking of gifts, it's a good thing you're here. There's something I want to give to you."

And with that he reaches into his pockets, and pulls out a small bottle of mead he'd been keeping on hand - just in case. "I want you to have this. Couldn't make it from the honey you gave me since that only exists in Horizon, but...I thought of you, when we bottled it. My host family have been helping me make them."

He hadn't necessarily expected a response. The gods here weren't his family - he couldn't expect the same kind of notice that he would from his relatives. But then the raven appears, and his head snaps up when he hears it's caw.

"Hello mate," he says, as he deftly catches the berry. He holds it lightly in his fingers and inspects it. The colour of it reminds him of this mother's pomegranates. "A gift, for me? Thank you."

And of course the thing to do when one is offered a boon is take it. So with a quick bow of his head towards the raven, Zagreus eats the berry.

Back at home, Zagreus couldn't visit most of his family. With him unable to survive on the Surface for more than a brief time, visiting Olympus was simply not possible.

Thankfully, that wasn't a problem here. It didn't matter that Zagreus was in Solvunn, while everyone else was in Thorne or the Free Cities. He could visit them in Horizon whenever he liked!

And when he liked what right now. He moved swiftly through Camp Half-Blood, employing that dashing movement that had him rapidly shifting forward in space as he ran. As he went he constantly looked about, trying to spot any of his family.

Was anybody home?

Edited 2024-05-17 11:41 (UTC)

As soon as the berry hits Zagreus's tongue, a gust of a warm spring breeze ruffles the foliage surrounding the shrine. The raven caws and what was one bird quickly becomes several, all perched at different heights and all with their attention fixated on Zagreus.

The first raven's eyes glow a light red and the carvings around the edifice begin to glow. The Lyfbringr's runes bath Zagreus in a gentle light.

The rustle of leaves seems to sound like a faraway voice, somewhat coherent whispers discernable if one listens closely.

Welco...Zag...

Guest...

M...is...alm...life...love...

"I'm growing fond of it myself, I'm my own natural light source at night," she says with a soft smile. She's surprised when he says he has a gift for her, and when he presents her with the mead, Claire takes it graciously. He doesn't know yet, of the loss of her bees, and so this is a bittersweet present.

"Zagreus, thank you. I've grown fond of mead, and don't have near enough in my stores." She looks at the bottle again, tempted to uncork it now but deciding to wait, at least until she's home.

"I'd hoped to begin branching out into mead but unfortunately, in my...absence, the bees have died." She sadly explains how, because of the weather, she'd delayed setting the bee houses out in the garden, which meant feeding them by hand with sugar water twice daily.

"I'm not sure if I should start over again," Claire finishes with a soft sigh.

Zagreus tries to listen as closely as he could - but it's difficult. Are the ravens the source of the voice, or is it the trees around them?

This was rather more difficult than talking by boon.

"Life and love are...your domains?" And something else, maybe? But Zagreus hadn't quite been able to make out that part. "Makes sense that you're the one who decided to greet me in person then. Life's also part of my domain. Blood and life. Not love though, that's Lady Aphrodite's area."

"Oh...I'm sorry," he says, his voice soft with sympathy. "I hadn't realised bees were so fragile."

But then, there was a lot Zagreus didn't really know about life, wasn't there? He was all too used to being surrounded by death.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" They'd worked together in that other future. Saved a mother and her son. Even if they didn't have the same power here...perhaps they'd still be able to work well together regardless.

"God of Blood? You didn't mention you hold two titles."

Not surprising, considering it had been their first meeting. Michael emerges from the forest and approaches the shrine, expression neutral and looking exactly as he did that night the storm trapped half of the Primary Settlement in the Drunken Lamb. Their recent experience hasn't left any physical traces on his vessel.

He does not apologize for his eavesdropping. If Zagreus wanted to hold a private prayer, he could've said what he had to say on the inside.

"What exactly does that entail?"

It sounds like a rather brutal role for a man who seems to be more polite and patient than average. Unless he's the god of giving blood rather than taking it, or in some other more nuanced sense than Michael can intuit from those three simple words.

"Technically, Prince of the Underworld is my title. Blood is my domain." And there was an important distinction between the two. "And usually I don't really bother giving out titles. For most people I meet it's not particularly important. But when greeting the local deities...it seemed appropriate."

Like leaving out the title would have been a breach of etiquette; a failure to represent himself fully and accurately to the divine rulers of this world.

"As for what being the God of Blood means...well to be honest my own domain's still a relatively recent understanding for me, so I'm still working that out a little myself. But from how I see it...Blood is life. The strength that flows within your veins. The bonds you share with your family. And also probably bleeding a lot and dying repeatedly. I do a lot of that back home."

So not really god of giving blood or taking it...but Michael's right that it's not the brutal role that the words might imply.

One of the ravens caws in affirmation. That sounds is crisp and clear, though the voice still sounds muffled, fading in and out as if concealed by a fog or a boat swaying back and forth. But the voice behind it is androgyne and warm.

Life...bi...us.

The flowers that adorn the shrine open their petals wider, drinking in the sunlight. There's a sense of comradery Zagreus might feel, an acceptance of a similar nature that they both share.

Bloo...begets...life.

An acceptance of that aspect as well.

Wh...do...yo...seek?

"Life...binds us?" Zagreus says, taking a guess at what he thinks Lyfbringr is saying.

At least the next part he understands clearly. Blood begets life. He knows, showing his understanding.

And he's not sure if the question is 'who' or 'what'...but it doesn't really matter either way. Zagreus's answer is the same. "I suppose...I'm not actually seeking any particular god, or any kind of boon. There's nothing I'm in need of right now. But...I do want to learn more about this world. About you, the local gods. I suppose if I seek anything...it's that I'd like to get to know you."

"A Prince of the Underworld isn't necessarily the God of Blood and vice versa, I see. I wouldn't have made the distinction. Eldest archangel and leader of the Heavenly Host go hand in hand."

Michael isn't quite a god, though, even if he fits the definition of one where Zagreus comes from. He was built for a purpose rather than born, so there was never any need to discover the meaning of his role. Now here in Abraxas, his title and former function are almost totally irrelevant. If he wants a purpose, he's going to have to design it himself.

"So a god of vitality? You might consider rebranding yourself to that before you amass any worshippers here; before the mortals get any odd ideas about what the God of Blood would like as offerings."

The title of Patron of Dissidence is still available, he hears, though he's not going to suggest that without knowing how Zagreus feels about their shared dream-future. At the time he hadn't seemed all that different to Michael, but he'd only known him from afar.

The question he was going to ask gets bumped to the back of the queue upon hearing that Zagreus does a lot of dying back home. Michael gives him a skeptical look, brows furrowed.

"You come back from the dead often?"

She'd been a little skeptic of the Horizon after waking up from whatever the hell the Singularity had put them through, but ultimately Annabeth couldn't keep away from it. Knowing it's moldable to her whims, limitless in creativity - her interest can't be muted. She's been working on her own domain, and so as Zagreus zips his way through Camp Half-Blood, he might notice her sitting outside a cabin with an owl perched above the doorway.

She's staring at it, trying to re-shape the bird, torn between copying her memory and... improving it. It's not her entire domain, just the part of it she shares with the rest of the demigods - because she has every intention on making more.

Thanks to the lava wall though, she misses his flaming feet this time around, and her attention is so deeply into working on the cabin, that she genuinely doesn't notice him at first.

Another gentle gust of wind moves across the shrine, disturbing several of the ravens. They take to the air and settle around Zagreus on the ground and on the shrine's offering pedestal as well. A few begin to tidy up the shrine, moving offerings closer to the bowl or arranging flowers to their own aesthetics. Most keep their attention on Zagreus as if it is not only their eyes that see him.

One raven hops to the edge with another red berry in its beak. It holds it out expectantly, eyes fixated on Zagreus's hand. If it is not offered outstretched to receive it, the raven will nudge at his hand until it is.

The two words rings clear;

Plant.

Know.

"I suppose so! But despite what we experience in our visions of our possible future...I'm really not looking for followers. I pretty sure I've never actually had any anyway, so I wouldn't know what to do with them if we did. And...this world has gods. I don't want to overstep."

That was part of why it felt so important to greet them, actually. To let them know that he recognised their authority over this world, to assure them that he wasn't going to intrude upon what was theirs.

"I do actually! Every time I escape from the Underworld, in fact. Not sure how I'd get back home if I didn't die, come to think of it..."

"Hey, it's like the little bat your mother has," Zagreus says, as he dashes next to her. He looks up at the owl, even if 'owl' isn't a word he's very familiar with.

Or 'birds', hence the confusion. He's learned a little about them, but he still tends to think of them as just being another kind of bat.

The raven won't need to nudge at Zagreus too much - he soon gets the picture, and holds how his hand. He holds the berry carefully once it is given - and this time, does not eat it.

"If I plant this, I'll get to know you better?" He says, looking towards the raven for confirmation. "I don't have a lot of practice with plants, but...maybe if I'm lucky, I've got a little bit of my mother's way with them. Is there anywhere in particular I should plant it?"

"You may find yourself with them regardless. You've seen the way the locals revere the Summoned."

In Solvunn, at least. He hears the attitude towards the Summoned is less favourable in the Free Cities and Thorne in particular. Here, though, the more popular and noteworthy among their fellow Summoned find themselves stopped and asked for their blessings often enough. Michael's almost surprised they don't each get a shrine of their own upon arrival.

His expression doesn't clear at the response to his question. Is dying really supposed to be the easy way?

"Surely you could simply turn around and walk back home? Here, I wouldn't recommend using death as a shortcut."

Not that Michael walks much either—he prefers to fly. Somehow, that's still a more normal, everyday answer than Zagreus's.

"Which god were you hoping to introduce yourself to?"

Michael peers over at whatever Zagreus has left for an offering at the shrine, looking to see if he recognizes any of the common symbols or preferred gifts. Considering he's a god of the underworld, he figures Vagn or Zalyshyty would be safe guesses as first stops, but it sounds like Zagreus intends to honour the entire Solvunn pantheon if he can.

The raven that gave him the berry caws in confirmation and bobs its head for extra assurance. If Zagreus does a bit of research later, he will see that Lyfbringr is often depicted with ravens flying around him. A few are known to visit this shrine, but not usually in these numbers.

You...will.

It does not sound like a demand but a statement of confidence. Zagreus might feel a swell of warmth in the air at the mention of his mother's way.

Pla...ose... Home.

"Well...yes, I suppose I could. But that would take longer, and...I wouldn't get to spend any time on the Surface."

He looks up - at the trees, at the sky, the vast space above them. He's seen more of the Surface than he ever had the chance to since coming here. But before, all he'd ever had were brief stretches of time after defeating his father. Even after his Mother returned - when he didn't need to visit her little cottage on the Surface to see her - he still valued those visits. Stolen moments of a place that could never be his.

"But don't worry, I have no intention of dying here. This might be my only chance to experience the Surface for longer than a day. I...don't want to give that up. Not just yet," he says.

He'd want to go home one day. He was happy to be here; that didn't mean he wanted to stay here forever. The implication that they might was one of the concerning things about the future they'd seen. Zagreus had to hope that that future wasn't a fated prophecy.

"And I was looking to introduce myself to all of the local gods, actually. I wouldn't want to miss anybody."

May open

Horizon: You can never have enough goats (Open)

Solvunn: In the name of Hades…Hi (Open)

Solvunn: Time to pick a fight (Open)

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Horizon: Dropping in on the family at Camp Half-Blood (Semi-open)

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