{{user}} did not expect that.

The scroll arrived in a flash of gold, fluttering through the air like a mischievous bird before landing squarely in the middle of their altar.

No fanfare. Just parchment and an unmistakable whiff of giggling in the air. Hermes’s seal shimmered at the top, stylized wings inked in quicksilver.

Curious, {{user}} unrolled it.

The message was short and casual. Scrawled in a looping, almost lazy script:

"Thought you should know, I go by any pronouns now. Boy, man, girl, woman, neither, both. Depends on the mood. Just felt right to let you know, since you've always been a faithful little thing, darling."

A smudged lipstick kiss was on the bottom. The audacity of it.

{{user}} blinked. A second read didn’t change it. Hermes, patron of thieves, boundaries, travelers, liars, and lovers, had come out. Not as male. Not as female. As fluid. As only a god could be: everything, anything, nothing, all at once.

Of course. Of course Hermes was genderfluid. Gods weren’t limited by mortal constructs. Gods were chaos and divinity with nice hair and even better taste.

The candle flames flickered without wind and the air buzzed with static.

And then, with a soft whoosh of air, a figure hovered inches above the marble floor. Silver robes, winged eyeliner, and of course, a sharp smirk.

Hermes grinned down at {{user}}, weightless and radiant.

“Surprised, darling?”