"So Aphrodite is all like 'Girl, he was not a mama's boy', and Athena, my girl, she was like…" Hermes droned on and on as he and Tiresias walked along the river Styx. The prophet held his knotted staff in one hand with the other behind his back. A short smile came across his face as he listened to the god beside him. Hermes hovered as he went, talking wildly with his hands.
"And then Ares comes in all like 'Rawr, I'm angry, how dare you!' And I, for one, was not scared in the slightest, especially not for Athena-"
"Yes you were," Tiresias interrupts.
"Wha?! How would you know that?"
"I see both future and past, you know."
"I, well-" Hermes flew flummoxed, hands at his hips. "Then why are you letting me tell this story, then?"
Tiresias's smile grew. "Because you're amusing."
Hermes scoffed and smiled back. "Well, at least I can be entertaining. Gods know how drab this place is."
"For a messenger god," Tiresias spoke, "you tell your stories in strange ways."
"So says the one who speaks in riddles."
"People are never ready for the full truth," he said, turning his head as if looking at the god. "Their hearts cloud their judgement."
"Well you're damn right there…" Hermes paused for but a moment. "But anyways! The point of my story being that I freed my glorious great-grandson from Calypso's grasp! He sails away, fights the big bad, and bada-bing bada-boom, he's back home!"
Tiresias stopped. He gripped his staff tighter. He stood still as ice, only his hands shivering. Even his breathing seemed to freeze.
After Hermes noticed the prophet wasn't following him anymore, he turned around. "Hey, are you okay? What's got you in a tizzy, my friend?"
Tiresias spoke in a whisper, "…the red palace."
"Hey." Hermes flew over to him. "Let's get your mind somewhere else, okay? Somewhere more fun."
"All those men… All that, fear… trapped like sheep."
"It'll be fine, darling. They deserve it, don't they?"
Tiresias paused for a moment. "Nobody deserves this… All this, needless violence," he almost snarled if his voice hadn't quivered.
Hermes's hands were coiled back, unsure what to do. There was no solace he could give, not in this world, not with gods like them. He took a breath. "Listen to me." Hermes went forward and reached to hold his friend's face. Tiresias winced, but didn't back away from the touch. He only stood in his daze. "It's going to be okay. Get your mind on something else. Listen to my voice." Hermes looked at his friend with worry. Though his eyes were covered by his band, Tiresias still looked down and past the god.
"Why don't you tell me something good?" Hermes asked. "Something you've seen that makes you happy."
"There's nothing good in this world," the prophet spat. "Nothing but tragedy, doom to be fortold-"
"Don't say that. There's plenty of good things. Like m-" Hermes stopped. "Er… Well, think about how Ody's going home to a wonderful wife. To be reunited with someone he loves and cares about, to someone who cares about him, too…" As he looked down, the shadows lifted and his eyes started to unveil themselves. "Or Persephone, how she comes down to see the love of her life, despite it being so dark and depressing. How she comes to give what little sunshine she can, because she cares about him…"
Tiresias loosened his grip on his staff. His shoulders started to fall, and slowly, he began to breathe again. Taking a deep breath, his head rose to meet Hermes. A breif moment passed where the two men faced each other in silence. Tiresias sighed, and gave a short smile. "Thank you, my friend."
Hermes grinned wide. "Anytime, darling."
Tiresias backed away, straightened up once more, and gestured to the river Styx. "Shall we continue?"
Hermes furrowed his brow. "Er- Just like that? Are you sure you're okay?"
"This is my burden to bear. I have beared it long enough to compose my countenance."
"W-well sure," Hermes stammered, "but that doesn't mean you should hold it in all the time. You need to let loose, let some things go, take the weight off-"
"He who veils his eyes should not ask another to reveal his," Tiresias said, turning to face the god. The prophet said nothing more. He only looked on.
Hermes moves back, his hands coiled back again. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. He looked to the ground. "You're right…" His eyes became shaded once more. A half-smile formed on his face. "You're absolutely right. You know, come to think of it, I think I'm going to see how things are doing up there. So if you'll excuse me, I think I'll be going now. Chao!" And with a clap of his hands, Hermes flew off down the river, which left Tiresias with a sudden, deafening silence.
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