A maiden's son.

Unknown POV
“But sir, why must I take a mortal host?”
“Silence, wench. Without a host it’ll take decades to complete our plan and the demigods we need will be dead by then!”
“Sir, do you not realize that the one who can stop us will also be dead.”
The master sighed in exasperation. Slinking back into his burnt throne he stroked his marble white beard. I sat among the burnt wreckage of the old house, sitting on a soot-stained beam that had fallen. It was painful to watch her negotiate with the master. I myself had made that mistake once, only once. I still have the scars on my chest as evidence to my master’s cruel ways.
He had once been peaceful. Centuries of soaking in his misery, betrayed and cast aside, had hardened his heart and poisoned his mind. Now he was bitter, very bitter. Despite being healed he was not at full glory. He had been waiting for the right chance, for the right demigods to come along. Now there have been stories of a band of demigods who slew Gaea and Kronos. My master has seen his chance.
“This is true,” he replied, “But we must take the risk. If we wait for more demigods to come along another champion might also bring back the prophecy. We must take the risk and act soon.”
The girl in rags sighed.
“I suppose. But how will we go about finding a host? My spirit has only been reclaimed recently and I don’t know if I can handle a live demigod.”
“Then we’ll find someone dead. Someone who has wrought both order and chaos to the mortal realm. Someone that fell to darkness and was redeemed at death. We need a child of balance.”
I grew tired of carving scratches in the beam with my knife so I stood up and decided to join in the politics.
“Asphodel would be our best bet,” I chimed in, “Sure the place is riddled with people who have done nothing with their lives but there must be at least one person of your description.”
Master smiled.
“Very clever,” He said, “Finally my worthless uncle finds something worthwhile to do and states the obvious.”
His smile instantly disappeared and with a flick of his hand, I was flung into the rotting wall by a huge gust of wind. Soot and splinters rained down on my head.
“Do you not think I know where to look,” he stood, stepping into the light pouring in from a hole in the ceiling, “Asphodel is the most obvious place. Dot not speak until spoken to!”
I stood and brushed the soot from my eyes. You couldn’t know which one of us was the strongest just by looking at us. Even at full power he was unimpressive: fat and gluttonous. Now, being weakened, he was bone thin. His sandy hair was choppy and stringy. His once powerful aura had been reduced to a small wave of energy. Indeed he was unimpressive but I wouldn’t be one to talk. I was almost as thin, despite being at full power even now. My jet black hair was coarse and dull. My skin was sheer white but my eyes were so sunken that my sockets were darkened. My nails were as dark as my hair and were chipped and cracked. A knife was strapped under my leather jacket and a sword hung on the belt around my black jeans. I wasn’t one for mortals in general, but I did like their sense of fashion nowadays.
As my vision readjusted, a scowl ran across my face.
“You have no authority to treat me such way!” I exclaimed.
“No?’ My nephew stated, “Then why are you under my command now?”
“Because you’re nothing but a fucking liar. A cheater! You stole my daughter from me!”
“I saved your daughter! I brought her spirit back from death before it could slip into the void. You should be thanking me!”
“I have nothing but hatred for you. I am more ancient than you, you should be bowing at my feet right now!”
His raspy laugh shook the ground.
“I have beaten you more than once. You are my servant.”
“Well I think that’s about to change.”
I drew my sword, its four foot jet black blade almost glinted in the blue light above. My opponent drew his own weapon, a scythe. That scythe had nearly taken my soul but luckily, my ancient age prevents that from happening. Our blade met and I could feel the power slowly seeping from my arm. My own weapon had similar effects, however, and my opponent could only keep his blade strong for a few seconds before I struck his chest. He stumbled back but recovered shortly. This was pretty much routine at this point, our blades slashed in perfect harmony. This time, however, I could feel it would be different.
I concentrated and tapped into my ancient power. A ray of pure darkness flew from the edge of my sword and cut its way through my opponent’s bony chest. He doubled over and a pool of ichor began to collect on the ground. Anger fueled my next move and I willed the shadows to toss him to the side.
“Now do you see who is truly more powerful?” I said looming over him.
He sputtered and gasped a few times before collecting himself.
“This defeat changes nothing. When I regain my full power I will make all of the universe bend to my will. You are nothing to me. Your power has been drained as much as mine. You know very well that the gods have altered your realm as they have mine. Is that not why you joined forces with me.”
I could feel my anger dissipating. I took a deep breath and sheathed my sword.
“We are on the same side,” I said, “You merely forget that I am the eldest. You do not treat me like some child you can toss around. You have beaten me but your realm hasn’t been reduced by mortals and gods. Your power is greater than mine, for now.”
I extended my hand and helped him up.
“As soon as your plan is complete, do not forget your promise. Returning my realm to me will be easy to you when your strength is replenished.”
“I understand. Centuries of being overthrown has filled my mind with anger, I know this. I am not too prideful to ask for your forgiveness.”
“You are forgiven, nephew. Just remember why we are on the same side. You do not treat my daughter with disrespect, nor I. This plan will take as long as it takes and if you so much as lay another hand on my daughter I will not hesitate to show you just how unforgiving I can be!”
“Of course. We must find the perfect host for your daughter to command. I cannot escape this place to search, you or your daughter must roam asphodel while I prepare other things down here.”
I smiled and dismissed him. Then I walked toward the girl in rags. Her arms had been bound in chains and she was dressed in tattered black robes. Her face was almost elvish, with pointed ears and delicate features. Her hair was black and glossy, with strands of dark green. Her skin was copper colored and gleamed in the blue light. Despite all this she looked weary, like she had just been woken from a nap. I kneeled at her and cut the chains, my dagger slicing through them like butter.
“Thank you, father,” she said, wrapping me in an embrace.
Tears began to stain the shoulder of my jacket.
“Of course, my child,” I replied stroking her hair, “I believe your cousin will be fairer to you now. I promise that you will never be hurt by him again.”
Even now in her weakened state, my daughter was truly beautiful. For months I had been planning with my nephew to bring her back as a goddess rather than a spirit. She will never fade again, for we will soon leave our mark on the mortal world.
“Are you ready to find a host?” I asked.
“I suppose. I just don’t see why I need one.”
“Because it will be faster, my child. It will give this child of the prophecy less time to prepare. You will also be able to take me back to the mortal realm. I will regain my powers and be able to aid you in the conquest.”
Her glittering violet eyes gleamed with hope for the first time in millennia.
“I will be honored to fight with you again, father. We will make the gods pay for their crimes. I once thought they were fair but seeing what they have done to you, I will gladly make them pay!”
She smiled and I helped her stand. She almost tumbled to the floor but I caught her. It was tricky but we finally made it to the underworld. I was glad to be reunited with my daughter. Soon I would spend eternity with her. All we had to do was find the right spirit in asphodel.

Notes