Chapter Text
Stiles grumbled as he got out of bed, feeling a pulse of power from his mother. Not ten minutes after laying down for a much deserved nap — he’d been up for six hours! Six! — and she decided to summon him. He was sure she planned it, waited for the perfect moment.
He sighed as he redressed and trudged out into the hub. The others just tended to call it the “neutral space”, but Stiles always thought of it as the hub. He knew humans, at least those that knew of the gods, thought of the divine realm as being a singular, static thing. In reality the gods all had their own realms, shaped by their will. Some were grand, some were austere, but none could be entered without the express permission of that god. A little spilled over though, creating a central spot ringed with the entrances to the realms, an area where gods, their servants — and, in Stiles’ case, their offspring — could mingle safely. No violence had happened in the hub for millennia, and Stiles knew the peace was viciously enforced.
He slumped and rubbed his eyes tiredly as he trudged his way across the hub, finally catching sight of the huge gleaming portal into his mothers realm. The portal was an opaque silver, so pure it almost hurt to look at. The surface was placid, appearing like a vertical still pool, and surrounded by a deep blue stone coated with moss. He could feel the unfathomably deep, profoundly calm power that emanated from it, the power of the moon goddess. It was a stark contrast to its neighbour, a ragged hole in the ground leading to a black void. He’d had the displeasure of visiting Egara — goddess of the earth, and his aunt — a few times. She was one of the nicer gods, but the minute long, pitch black freefall into her earthen realm was a horror he wasn’t eager to revisit.
Stiles walked through the silver portal, feeling the cool rush of his mothers power, like invigorating moonlight on his skin, and making no effort to hide his irritation. Though his mothers power didn’t wax and wane with the phases of the moon, as Stiles’s own didn’t, her realm changed in line with it. As it was the new moon the realm he walked into was the most modest form it took. Instead of the towering palace she resided in during the full moon, he entered a wide open, sparse glade. Towering dark oaks dotted the open space, moss, lichen and shallow water covered the ground, and a huge moon hung overhead, so close it almost appeared you could reach up and touch it. The space terminated with a sharp drop into the surrounding void, the shallow water slowly trickling off the edge into oblivion, creating a large circular platform. In the centre of it, looking at him with fond amusement, was his mother. She sat in a chair made of pale, ethereal moonlight. Her silver eyes matched Stiles’s own, though her flawless silver hair was something he unfortunately didn’t have — his own grew silver at the root and faded to a dark brown, creating a skunk-like effect he’d never been fond of. She had a delicate, refined beauty, and looked regal sitting straight backed in her ethereal chair. The effect was ruined somewhat when she tutted at him.
”I called for you half an hour ago Stiles” she chided him, waving her hand and forming a matching chair next to her.
”Not all of us can just bend reality around us to appear where we want you know?” Stiles grumbled, taking the seat with another beleaguered sigh.
He knew himself to be cute enough, if a little gangly, and as a demigod he was strong. Living with gods though could truly give you an inferiority complex. They were just so… well they were gods. Physically perfect, incomprehensibly powerful. It was no wonder Palvos, one of the only two other demigods alive, had become a hermit when he grew strong enough to form his own small realm.
A small weave of power curled off the moon above and formed a table between them, cups appeared atop it, filled with steaming tea. His mother took a dainty sip while he took a large gulp, he had to admit her special blend was rather good.
She sighed at his lack of table manners, but Stiles could see a small smile on her lips, her love for him was always clear, even if she didn’t approve of everything he did.
”I have been considering things, and I feel a change is in order” She told him, taking another small sip of her tea.
Stiles frowned at her, not liking the slightly foreboding direction he could feel the conversation going.
“You know I’m proud of you son, you know I love you, but a time must come when the child of a god steps out on their own. As you will soon turn nineteen I feel that time is overdue” she began diplomatically.
Stiles sat up straight in his chair, his silver eyes brightening. “Holy shit, are you giving me a quest?” He asked with palpable excitement.
”No” His mother responded, causing Stiles to slump again. “And you will watch your language, no child of mine should speak so crassly” she reprimanded him, he could see that same small smile on her lips though.
”I have seen your little visits to the mortal realm have had a positive impact on you, aside from the unbecoming mortal habits you’ve picked up” she told him with a sharp look at his fidgeting form.
Stiles just shrugged, he’d always had a hard time sitting still, even before mingling with mortals.
”I have searched far and wide for a suitable place for you to become more integrated in mortal society, and I feel I have found the perfect candidates”.
Stiles set down his cup. “Wait, you’re planning to ship me off to live with the mortals? You can’t do that! I live here!”.
His mother reached over and patted his hand. “And you will always have a home here, but I worry you will be stifled here in time”.
Stiles opened his mouth to voice another complaint when she cut him off.
”If you integrate well I may even give you a true quest in time” She said, adding a carrot to the stick.
Stiles grit his teeth, he was being played and he knew it. Demigods were rare, gods had minimal interaction with humans and couldn’t overly interfere in the mortal realm directly, plus even when they got with one conception was rare. The relatively few of his kind that had existed before though had all gone on quests. It was like their whole thing. Not to mention that successfully completing a quest for a god rewarded a small sliver of their power. None of the other gods would give him one until his mother deemed him ready though, the cowards.
”You’re manipulating me,” Stiles pointed out, glaring at her.
”Yes,” she said with amusement. “Quite successfully too I suspect”, that small smile spreading.
Stiles continued his weak glare until he saw it was having no effect, slumping further in his chair.
”You’re a monster” he accused weakly.
”I’m your mother, and I have your best interests at heart” she corrected him.
He sighed again, deeply enough that his whole body moved with it, trying to convey the full depth of his suffering. His mother just rolled her eyes.
”Where will I be staying then?” He asked in resignation.
”There are a number of creatures in the mortal realm — werewolves — that are aligned with me, tied to my power. I have found a pack of them that I think would be a good fit for you” she told him, sitting forward in her seat and the sense of her power deepening.
”Wait, wait, wait, you haven’t even given me a chance to process this!” Stiles complained, sensing she was about to do something.
”There is no time like the present” she said gently, her power reaching a crescendo.
“I’ll visit you” she reassured as her power wrapped around him.
“Make me proud Stiles” she said with a serene smile as, with a sharp tug, her power tore him out of the divine realms.