Chapter 1
The ground of Mount Olympus felt cold against her knees, rough and uneven, the stone cutting into her mortal skin like the edge of a blade.
They had to reduce her to her mortal form to subdue her, and yet Fina stood tall, her head held high before Zeus’s enraged gaze, defying him with the firmness of her stance and the icy determination etched on her face. They could strip her of her voice, her immortality, perhaps even her freedom, —trapped as she was in what she once considered her home—, but they could never, never, take away her will.
She was a goddess, unmatched in power and unrivaled in her dominion. She was Hecate, goddess of witchcraft and magic, the Moon and the Night, sovereign of the ghostly and the arcane. And that would not change, regardless of how they sought to destroy her.
“Say you repent for your actions, and all will be forgiven.”
Zeus’s voice echoed against the white walls of the temple, his tone as pretentious as Dionysus’s favorite wines. Fina bit down on her tongue, clenching her teeth until she tasted blood—the same blood she was accused of spilling.
“No. I will not let Lethe erase what I’ve done, nor do I regret it,” she pronounced, her words clear and deliberate in the temple’s stillness. “One day, the tales will recount how it was you, Zeus, who dared to rob your wife of her freedom under the guise of granting her happiness. One day, the world will know that you alone are to blame for her fate. The Moon itself remains a witness to your deceit.”
Zeus struck the marble of his throne, and the very foundations of Olympus trembled beneath his fist. A distant rumble of thunder descended into the mortal sky.
“How dare you!” he roared, his eyes igniting with Hephaestus’s searing fire, growing in intensity until all trace of composure burned away. “You have condemned Persephone to the Underworld, and now she is back with that… abomination.” He could not even bring himself to utter his younger brother’s name, the hatred in his gaze so strong it was impossible to ignore. “You are unworthy of your station, unworthy of the devotion bestowed upon you, and from this day forth, you shall no longer be idolized in any sacred temple.”
The goddess lowered her gaze momentarily to conceal the fear flickering in her expression. Her exterior remained calm, but inwardly, she was terrified. With an uncomfortable lump in her throat—there were some human sensations she still hadn’t grown used to, no matter how many times she adopted this form—she waited for Zeus’s final blow.
“You leave me no choice,” the god continued, “but to strip you of your realm.” Fina suddenly found herself unable to breathe, forcing a deep inhale to get her mortal lungs working again. “I condemn you, Hecate, goddess of the Night, to the same fate my wife suffers because of you. I sentence you to an eternal life in the Underworld, land of the dead, never to return. Let your punishment serve as an example to any god who dares to defy me, and may your suffering in the Dark Realm know no end.”
Themis and Hermes, who had attended the trial to attest to the trial’s impartiality, whispered at the verdict but fell silent when Hecate furiously tugged at the chains restraining her.
“Damn you, Zeus. Damn you and your empire of subjects, who have no more will than the wretched souls of the Stygian River,” she said, glaring at the ethereal presences of the three gods one by one. “One day, the truth will come out, and you will all regret not standing by the values we once represented. But very well,” she said with a courageous smile as she turned her gaze back to Zeus, “I accept my punishment.”
“So be it.”
Without another word, the King of Lightning whistled, and his dark magic descended upon her like a shadow, compressing the mortal body she inhabited until her immortal soul had no choice but to escape, lost to the endless void of the cosmos.
Before surrendering completely to the depths of Tartarus, the goddess whispered a desperate prayer to Fate, pleading for it to hear her:
May I find in the Underworld the home I never found on Mount Olympus.