TU25. Ashen One
The glorious king of the Leuce Isles paced before his ornate throne, his patience wearing thin. The sweat on his cheeks and the strange heat radiating beneath his chiton were sensations he hadn't felt in many millennia.
"My king, would you sit down? The oracle has been fetched." Tachyon knelt beside him with her mother and sisters. She was the first to speak after his long, agonising pacing from one corner to another.
"Didn't we send her a bloody flying horse for crying out loud?" Achilles breathed out, shaking his head at the old retainer, who shrugged helplessly. Then, he snapped his head toward Tachyon. "And don't call me that! You shall address me as your grandfather!"
"Yes, grandfather." Tachyon bowed demurely.
"Sorry, there is a much graver matter to tend to," Achilles apologised; despite his shifting tone, it was genuine. His swift legs shuffled again, as if he could skip through time with the activity.
"It's fine, grandfather." Tachyon’s gaze cast toward the lavish red carpet; her ears flopped. "I'm not a fan of running… let alone fighting…"
The grandfather halted mid-stride, thinking his cheetah ears had tricked him. "Say what?"
The intensity of his golden stare caused her to flinch, her resolve wavering. "It's been so long since I did that… I don't want to hurt people again." Her gaze landed on Hermione, who reached out and squeezed her shoulders.
"Come on! It's part of the wars! Glory and blood like gold and red!" He roared at the sky with an energy that flustered the crowd.
He took Tachyon by the hand. "Don't you feel it when you hack, slash, and rip through an enemy's rank? You must feel that Bloodwrath within you too, do you not?"
"Umm…" Tachyon's eyes darted everywhere; her words flustered.
"Come on! You were born a warrior, a conqueror! We are unstoppable heroes, glorious golden Achilles and Tachyon! Right, right?" Achilles urged, nudging her with his elbow. There was no visible age difference between the two Wildrens, because they had both been quite young when they descended into the underworld.
Tachyon retreated a step, but Achilles wrapped his arm over her shoulder. "I've heard tales of you, my dear Tachyon. I've paid good coins for stories from the shades. Also, your father is absolutely ruthless, oh… I adore him so! But I adore my dear granddaughter even more! You don't know how much joy I felt when you arrived here. Even your mother couldn't keep you away from me for long. I'm not big for surprises!"
"My king—I mean, Grandfather. Did you just mention my father?" Tachyon eyed him with bewilderment.
"Yes, my sweet boy, Pyrrhus or Neoptolemus—err, whatever he'd like to be called. He didn't end up with us here, but that's not important now. You are here with us in this forever heaven! Anyway, the Bloodwrath is a gift within us, you see. That's what makes us the greatest, the most fearsome heroes in the history of humanity. How about this? Let's train, spar after this nonsense, shall we?" The fastest hero alive was already rushing to make a next plan.
"I… umm…" Tachyon couldn't find her tongue. To be honest, she'd never seen anyone speak so fast, jumping from one topic to another.
The crowd seemed to titter and chat; some even cheered like mindless dolls.
"My king," Hermione interjected, wrapping her arm around his, "Have you forgotten…?"
"What?" Achilles raised a brow as Hermione crept closer.
"About the ending? Hers," she whispered, her soft gaze landing on the daughter.
"Oh…" Achilles let out a breath, the excitement in his eyes dimming, his shoulders sagging. He wanted to slap his own forehead now. He didn't feel as glorious as he had when he met the gleaming eyes of his own granddaughter.
The air became stagnant. He scratched his head to chase the awkwardness away.
"It's fine! Well, umm, err, I think—it's just sports, you see!" Achilles beamed dryly. He spun to the nearest man, who nodded along. The others seemed to fake smiles and even laughter.
A soft, hurried rhythm of footsteps echoed through the hall, drawing every gaze toward the doorway. Then, the company was graced by the oracle. She moved with a spectral lightness, her presence cutting through the still air of the throne room.
Long elven ears, delicate and poised, were adorned with silver frames that caught the sunray, casting dancing reflections against the sparkling crystals nestled in her ashen hair. Beneath a layered cloak of deep, forest-green hue, a gown of shimmering silver clung to her form, revealing itself with every graceful stride.
She moved as if time had no dominion over her; the regal beauty that legends had whispered of for a thousand years was not merely a claim. The stunned silence was a reaction to the undeniable truth.
Austria turned to exchange a smile with Hermione, her two daughters, and finally, Tachyon.
She spun on her boot to meet the king. "My deepest apologies, Golden King of the Leuce Isles." Austria bowed; her smooth motion was ever graceful. Her shining silver eyes roamed to meet the king. He studied her, his lips parted without words; whatever he was about to say had long been buried.
"Well, you know," he began again, his words bubbling. His hands went all over the place.
"If I have to guess, do you require one of Clothia's blessings, a reading?" Austria asked in her soft tone. "That wouldn't quite explain the urgency that came with the Pegasus."
"Not really, but umm—this way, this matter is a bit private." Achilles beckoned her to follow him to the back, down a long corridor stretched out with rows of windows. Soft, gentle light filtered through and illuminated the paintings on the walls.
They didn't even make ten strides away from the chamber before Achilles spun on his heel, causing her to step back. Clearing his throat, Achilles began, "Sorry, didn't want to cause panic in the public. But I've heard that there is a mortal in the underworld."
"We find some from time to time. That is nothing new, and?" Austria asked, her long fingernail brushing over a smooth marble balustrade.
"Someone told me she's the Empress of the Osten Empire. A strong one, they said. Very, very strong."
Austria's eyes widened. A glittering spark shone in those pairs of crystals.
"That's your daughter, is it not? Her name's Aurora, or so I've heard."
"Are you certain, my king? Aurora's here in the underworld? Alive?" Austria's heart leapt; she took a step forward. "Where—where is she now?"
"Not here, she was briefly—in the Cave of Hypnos, but that might not be the case anymore. I heard it's been destroyed." Achilles raised his hands as the oracle darted close.
"Destroyed? That's the whole universe, a layer of reality. Nonsense, I knew my daughter, her power. She couldn't possibly…" She trailed off, her brows knitted in deep contemplation.
"I… I mean, Ashen Oracle, the reason I'm telling you is we need your help." Achilles's words came in quick pulses before he mustered a smile, a dry one. "Our reality and all of the underworld as we know it depend on it. This is dire!"
But before Austria could ask another word, Achilles cut in, "Take the Pegasus, take the gold, take the treasure, anything you desire, but make haste now, I beg you, before she destroys us all! You must stop her. The Underworld's fate rests upon you!"
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Austria blinked at the cruel joke, except Achilles wasn't remotely jesting.
***
In Erebus.
Thanatos slapped his thigh, his frame shaking as he battled a rising cackle. His ribs strained against the fit of glee, and tears pricked at his eyes — two glossy trails carving through the soot on his mask — until he wiped them away with a sweep of his thumbs.
Aurora crossed her arms, tucking both hands under her armpits, her lips pursed in what could almost be described as the most disgruntled pout that ever graced her visage. She eyed him with restrained displeasure.
"You don't even remember dying. You think yourself dead." Thanatos doubled back, snickering between words.
"Fine… All this. It just feels weird! Stop laughing at me!" She scowled, more upset than she cared to admit.
"Alright, alright!" Thanatos raised his palm, shaking the last bit of the giggle away. He wiped his grin off his face and steadied himself.
"So what now?" Aurora asked, her tone solemn. She stared into the darkness stretching in every direction. She couldn't feel anything beyond her own body; when she moved her fingers, she felt nothing. Not even the resistance of the wind.
"That, I do not know." He blinked at her, dumbfounded.
"But you are a god!"
"I am the god of death! Not the god of all-knowing!" He retorted.
He did have a point, Aurora couldn't deny that. She collapsed to the floor, if she could ever call it that.
"Now, we're stuck here for eternity," Aurora said, summoning the arc gourd. She wiggled it to no avail; the thing had been emptied since the recent battle. There was no mana in the atmosphere that the Everfeast could draw from. She sighed, dismissing it.
"At least, you're not alone…" Thanatos said, his voice softened as he took a seat next to her.
A cynical chuckle escaped her; she hugged her knees close. A semblance of mortality was the warmth of her body.
For what felt like an eternity, Aurora grew broody and sulked as each idea failed to release her from this cosmic jail. In that one moment, she thought of her people on Earth, and the land that she had parted. She missed them all; she missed the sense of the warm breeze, the gentle sun, and the home-cooked meals. The beautiful scenic view from the top of her castle that stretched out to the black sea. She realised that she longed for things she couldn't reach.
So far away.
Her glittering eyes cast down at her long toenails, "So, I succeeded in destroying the demons but… I." She paused, as the words were hard to utter, "I have nowhere to come back to my people. Death is mercy, you taught me." That phrase had her sit down and linger for a while.
"Come on, you'll think of something. You always do. A portal spell, perhaps? Surely you are more than capable of that."
"Spatial teleportation is relative. It marks two locations by using a third object as an anchor. In our solar system, it's universal to use the sun as an anchor." Aurora quoted, her tone rueful.
"Oh…"
"There's no multidimensional travel spell, damnation! We didn't even confirm the existence of the multi-dimensional planes until the helltides arrived," she admitted. "Hades! Gods and divinities only existed in the age of mythology and tales."
"Well…" He pointed at himself.
"You know what I mean…"
He shrugged, offering no retort. He understood the frustration in her eyes; it was not so different from when his brother vented about the emptied universe. Who could have thought that the beginning and the ending shared that similar aspect to whine about?
Aurora summoned the arc gourd again. And Thanatos could only watch her.
"Ha!" Aurora jumped to her feet, so fast that he almost saw too much of her bareness.
Not looking at her, he asked, "What is it?"
"There's mana here, see?" She shook the gourd, making a splashing sound. "Everfeast could accumulate some of it, if not all." Aurora sucked into the opening greedily. The soothing nectar quenched her thirst a little.
"Are you sure it's not from me?"
"Do you generate mana?" She asked.
He shrugged, signalling he didn't know.
"We're not alone—"
Like a sudden wash of coldness, the hair on her arms stood on end. Aurora glanced down to meet his darkening eyes. She had never seen the skin peeking from beneath that dull gold mask quite so ghostly.
"It's… it's…" Thanatos blabbered, rising upward.
They both turned toward a presence or two; she couldn't make out exactly since everything was just as dark as it had ever been.
"Ma… Mother of Gods…" Thanatos's words struck her like a club; she snapped to his unblinking eyes that pinned onto the voice.
"The Goddess of the night, Nyx?" Aurora gasped, pressing her palm on the shaking god.
"Not just her, my father, too. They're here." Thanatos whispered.
Before the cosmic tide drifted as the entire night sky passed through them, Aurora squinted her eyes, still unable to see. But everything else was a testament to their divine presence. The tightness that clutched inside her breath, the overwhelming suffocating feeling, was now evident.
The sparkling stars and galaxies formed and donned their skin; their clusters of lights barely illuminated their mighty silhouettes. She could see celestial movement like arms, one moving down, and another moving up toward the centre point.
Hemera.
The daylight lit the sky, so bright at first that Aurora had to shield her eyes; she blinked, tearing up, trying to adjust.
Two enormities, of a scale that transcended clusters of galaxies, stood before them. Resolute and powerful.
Aurora gasped; she could hear sounds, her actual voice now.
Her eyes roamed the oldest daimones beyond time; they stood like the origin of the universe. The outline of the female daimon brimmed with a fan of arms protruding from her back; it was beautiful and commanding, her galactic visage masked by a black veil that drifted eerily. The goddess wore an intricate, lavish long dress decorated with vibrant cluster stars. The mythical eyes of Nyx slowly opened, soft white light filling her sclera, though the nebula-like irises had fine details to them — ethereal, vibrant clouds and stardust watched back.
Levitating beside her with rival radiance, Erebus stood as a striking figure of sheer strength. His long hair and beard were braided into intricate, identical patterns, and a cosmic mountain of obsidian rested atop his head like a crown. His stern eyes burned with dark light, the irises eclipsed by the deepest void. Beneath his ancient armour, he was draped in a long, thick cape that writhed with massive serpents and slithering, tentacle-like tails.
Almost at the same time, Thanatos and Aurora fell to their knees. She couldn't explain why exactly.
With a soft nod of finality from the daimones, they spun back and disappeared. The darkness rushed to claim their territory.
"That's… intense, don't you think?" Thanatos exhaled a long breath.
"Agreed. But… Why are they here?" She replied, exhausted. A threat? No, it couldn't be. A cosmic recognition?
He could only look at her, he couldn't have the answer readily either. She scoffed at his blank stare.
"Aurora!" The echoing voice drifted like a hum into the empty void. "Aurora!"
"Did you hear that?" She snapped toward the source. "There's a direction to the source this time. Over there!" She pointed at the light shining from the curtain of the golden cloud.
Like the first dawn breaking out of the stormy night. Like hope renewed at the first light.
Aurora filled her heart with awe, spotting a white mare with beautiful wings soaring and sailing in the dark tide. Such a beautiful and majestic creature it was.
But the rider was someone she never thought she would meet again.
"That elf… That's… your mother?" Thanatos's lips curled into a smile.
Body frozen. Aurora had long gone mute, spiralling into incredulity. She studied Austria, every minuscule detail of her, matching the perfect picture in her memory. She was beautiful, and still she carried an air of commanding grace.
The ashen hair fluttered with high-born elegance as the elven rider galloped through the darkness. The Pegasus neighed sharply, accelerating with flapping wings. Gleaming feathers drifted away.
"Mother!" Her voice was small, brimming with doubt. She had to believe it. No, she wanted to believe it. "Mother, I'm right here!" Aurora shouted aloud as she eventually reached out her hand.
"Aurora!" Austria's worried frown turned into a thin smile when she eventually saw her clearly.
The elven oracle descended from the Pegasus with haste, and as she moved, her long robe whipped wildly. And they fell into a tight embrace. "I'm bringing you home, my dear," Austria whispered, snuggling close. She ripped her lavish cloak away and wrapped her daughter.
Aurora trailed her palms along the seamlines, the ornamental chain, and her mother's cheek and her ashen locks. It felt real, no, she was real. "How… how did you find me?"
"I saw daylight… It must have been destiny, or even the act of gods, that led me here."
"That's…" Aurora lost the words, instead hugging her mother tight. The sweet embrace had been a part of her life since she was a child, now rekindled again. Nothing else seemed to matter.
Behind them, Thanatos extended his palms to pet the Pegasus; the creature bowed gently, letting him without a discontent hiss. "Atta boy," The Lord of Death chuckled fondly, extending one of his wings to measure the wingspan of the flying mare.
"I…" Aurora could only manage a soft sniff. Under the warmth of the mother, when she should have felt comfort, yet the overwhelming guilt demanded words to roll off her tongue, "I'm sorry, mother. The Golden Age of Osten crumbled. I saw the death and despair of our people, I couldn't stop the wars, I couldn't protect them, I failed—"
"Shhh…" Austria shushed, closing her eyes. Her gentle palm stroked her daughter’s back. She was a hardened warrior, but she was also a ruler of people; that crushing weight was paramount. For this moment, even if it were selfish, she did not want her daughter to carry it any longer.
"It's okay now. It's going to be all okay…"
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