The weight of loss is lighter in a mother's arms. But it never truly fades.
I woke to warmth.
Not the kind that comes from a fire or the sun.
The kind that feels safe.
The kind I hadn't felt in a long, long time.
Persephone's fingers combed gently through my hair, moving in slow, steady strokes.
I let myself stay there for a while, eyes shut, breathing in the faint scent of pomegranate and fresh earth.
For a second, I could pretend.
Pretend I wasn't in the Underworld.
Pretend I hadn't just lost him.
Pretend that everything was still okay.
But then I cracked my eyes open.
And I saw her face.
The way her fingers stilled for a fraction of a second.
The way her normally unshaken expression was just a little too tight.
She had known.
She had sent him off knowing she would never see him again.
And she had accepted it.
Because that's what queens do.
My chest tightened. I sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over my face.
"You knew," I murmured.
Her fingers twitched slightly in her lap, but her expression remained unreadable.
"…Not yet," she said quietly.
But I saw it.
I felt it.
She had let him go before I had even arrived.
She had made her peace with the pain before it even came.
And I hated that.
Not because I blamed her.
But because I understood.
I swallowed, my throat burning.
I had lost a father I barely knew.
She had lost everything.
And yet, she sat there, whole—because she had no choice but to be.
I hesitated. Then, before I could second-guess myself, I reached forward and wrapped my arms around her.
For a moment, she didn't move.
Then, slowly—almost hesitantly—her arms wrapped around me in return.
She didn't tremble. She didn't cry.
But she held me like she had been waiting forever for this moment.
A lump formed in my throat.
I pulled away, forcing a smirk. "Alright, well, that was depressing. Time for me to leave before I start writing bad poetry."
She blinked. "You're leaving?"
"Just for a bit." I stretched, pretending my body didn't still feel like I'd been hit by a divine chariot. "Need some air. And, you know… a place that doesn't constantly remind me of that."
Persephone studied me for a long moment.
Then, she nodded.
I turned to Cyrus. He sat at the edge of the room, watching silently, his silver eyes unreadable.
I crouched, scratching behind his ears. "You stay here, alright? Keep Mom safe."
Cyrus let out a quiet, low growl.
I smirked weakly. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine."
I stood up, glancing at Persephone one last time. "I'll be back soon."
Then, before I could hesitate—
I stepped into the shadows.
The Academy Was Too Loud.
The second I emerged on campus, people stared.
I ignored them.
After the tournament, after I had stood in that arena, shadows writhing around me, crushing the Chimera—
I disappeared.
And now, I was just… back.
The whispers started immediately.
"Where the hell did he go?"
"I thought he got expelled."
"I thought he DIED."
"Why does he still look like he hasn't slept in years?"
I shoved my hands in my pockets and kept walking.
My body still ached from the fight. My ribs throbbed with every breath. But the worst part?
The looks.
People glanced at me like I was something dangerous. Something that shouldn't be walking through these halls.
And honestly?
I didn't have the energy to care.
I just wanted my bed.
I reached my room, shut the door, and collapsed face-first into my mattress.
…Oh yeah. That was nice.
The weight of exhaustion finally settled in.
For the first time in days, I could just—exist.
I closed my eyes.
Knock, knock.
I groaned into my pillow. "If you're here to kill me, come back later."
Silence.
Then—
"Tempting," a dry voice said. "But no."
I cracked one eye open.
Felix Regas, so of Zeus, stood in my doorway. Lyra Castor, daughter of Apollo, was next to him, arms crossed.
Both looked way too judgy for my taste.
Felix raised an eyebrow. "You look terrible."
"Gee, thanks." I rolled onto my back. "Love the warm welcome."
Lyra stepped forward, peering at me like I was a science experiment gone wrong. "You disappeared. Then you come back looking like this?"
I smirked. "Define 'this.'"
"Like you got dragged through the depths of the Underworld and barely crawled out alive."
I snorted. "Huh. Weird."
Felix narrowed his eyes. "What happened?"
I stretched, letting the silence drag out.
Then, I plastered on my best carefree grin.
"Oh, you know. Took a vacation. Saw some sights. Fought a Titan. Screamed my soul into oblivion. The usual."
Lyra blinked.
Felix exhaled through his nose. "Right. And I'm the King of Olympus."
"Wow." I clutched my chest. "Didn't realize I was in the presence of royalty."
Felix didn't laugh.
I sighed. "Nothing happened. I'm fine."
He didn't look convinced. But after a moment, he let it go.
For now.
He crossed his arms. "If you're alive enough to crack jokes, you're alive enough to train."
I paused.
Then—I hesitated.
My mind drifted back to the Underworld.
To Hades.
To what should've been done differently.
I clenched my fists.
I needed to be stronger.
If I was going to rule the Underworld—if I was going to protect the people I cared about—
I couldn't rely on luck.
I had to learn.
I had to fight.
I sat up, meeting Felix's gaze.
"…That enchantment technique you used against the Chimera," I said slowly.
Felix raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"
I exhaled.
"Can you teach me?"
Felix blinked.
Then—he smirked.
"Well, well. The Lord of Shadows asking the Lord of Thunder for help?"
I rolled my eyes. "Shut up."
He chuckled. "Meet me at the training grounds tomorrow morning."
I nodded.
And just like that—it began.