Hanpung soared gently through the sky like a goddess's chariot led by pure birds.
Passing through mist-shrouded mountain peaks, they crossed fertile plains. Beyond the golden wheat granaries, they passed through narrow, shadowed valleys.
Submerged temple columns came into view, and they passed a spring where a nymph had drowned gazing at her own face. They brushed past the tomb of a youth who bled to death from the messenger god's coercion, the cave of a woman turned spider for insulting Ananke, and crossed the hill of Anemone and the strait of Scylla.
Kallian whispered all the myths he knew into her ear. His low voice was pleasant even in dreams, and the occasional kisses that tangled like seeking lips were hot as if pushing through prison bars, but she remained deeply asleep, wandering only in Morpheus's grasp.
Finally, land dark as black wine appeared. Fog wrapped around the darkness, concealing the ground like a rolling sea.
It was Hades' domain. A place where the ominous atmosphere that forces mortals to turn back could be felt in every breath like wetland.
The Lethe, where even the cypress's mourning had ceased, lay buried in hazy silence as if preparing for hibernation.
Kallian covered her deeply sleeping face with his arm. So the cold air wouldn't touch her thinning cheeks, so Eos's breath that parches dry lips wouldn't settle.
The chamber long abandoned had grown cold, and white breath misted forth. Now there were neither servants nor minor tasks in the black marble palace, so only drifting wind spirits remained to serve.
Torches lit the pale stone walls. Among the flickering shadows, Hanpung and Bukpung busily darted about.
Kallian laid a thick mat on the bed, layered soft wool over it, then gently set her down. He lit a fire in the hearth and filled a bronze pot with water. She might want warm water for her thirst.
As night deepened, grasshoppers chirped as if embroidering the silence. Through the window, it was pleasantly audible. It was a feeling different from when he had a human body, but enjoying the night's lingering atmosphere was an unexpected gain. Life, it seemed, was meant to be lived like them.
Invisible waves seemed to surge before his eyes. Darkness that seemed to coil around his hand approached his face then receded like an ebb tide. He realized that it was his own breath.
When he inhaled, darkness approached as if to scratch, and when he exhaled, it retreated like waves. The sound of breath caught somewhere on his gradually protruding Adam's apple and stopped.
He gazed down at her sleeping form with pale eyes. Emotions he couldn't bring himself to show earlier now rippled, mingled together. Only after feeling with his hand the faint breath escaping between her swollen lips did a sigh of relief escape him.
Thus the first night passed.
Ψ
Her consciousness flashed back like flint striking. A bitter taste filled her mouth. Asteril threw off the blanket that was wrapped tightly up to her neck—enough to make her sweat—and sat up.
She heard water bubbling and boiling. Sunlight streaming through the window settled hazily. With senses sharper than before, even small birds chirping in the distance reached her ears sharply.
Kallian sat in a beechwood chair, gazing into the lit hearth. She could see the himation he wore shifting from dark blue to purple in the firelight.
Asteril watched, fascinated. After a moment, he pulled a small bronze pot from the hearth. And walked toward her.
"What is this?"
"…."
"Did you make this?"
Asteril stared at him as he sat facing her before the bed. Without a word, he spooned the barley porridge from the pot into a silver bowl.
With his hair loosely tied, he looked even more mysterious and intellectual today. His emotionless eyes gazed as if assessing whether the porridge in the bowl was too hot.
It was a rare sight. So rare that even his mother Ananke might be surprised. Asteril waited with wide eyes.
Kallian blew gently to cool the barley porridge on the spoon. Asteril, who had been wearing an expectant expression, found her mouth twisting in distaste as soon as she saw the porridge's color.
It was dark green with strange lumps floating in it. But as if he wouldn't tolerate refusal, he thrust the spoon into her mouth. Asteril swallowed without complaint. It was so bitter and astringent that she nearly gagged.
"This isn't food, it's more like... medicine..."
She could roughly guess what the ingredients were from the taste. As if everything good for the body had been thrown in and boiled... a nutritional dish of sorts.
Presently, he lowered himself to his knees on the floor. He lifted her dress and gently stroked her calf once with his hand. Fortunately, there was no further decay.
He reached for a jar placed under the bed. Kallian dabbed freshly made ointment onto the back of his hand, then began spreading it over every corner of her instep.
Asteril quietly extended and folded her legs as he directed.
"I... how long did I sleep?"
"Three days."
"What did you do alone?"
He glanced up and gently rubbed her bruised knee with his thumb. Black bruises remained here and there. It was not ordinary. Bruises remained like tattoos even in places she had never bumped.
"More than I thought... there was much to do."
"Did you make that ointment too?"
Asteril asked as if it were nothing. Like the barley porridge earlier, he must have ground and pounded every medicinal herb said to be good for the body. A helpless laugh escaped her at his clumsy handiwork for a Keton.
"Humans."
He said, closing the jar lid and rising. As if someone watching would think he had attained enlightenment about mortality.
"Are beings who must rely on such things to recover their bodies."
"I'm not."
"You are as well. Therefore, for three days, not even a little..."
He faltered and gazed at her. Silence followed.
Asteril quietly opened her mouth to ask.
"It didn't heal?"
"…."
"Not even a little?"
"…."
"I normally recover right after sleeping, how strange..."
Her right hand, held by him, came into view. Her ring and little fingers were gone, roughly severed. Her limbs had even more cracks. When she ran her hand through her hair once, tangled hair came out in clumps as if someone had torn at it.
She could see time beginning to race. Chronos swings his sickle. A price no one dares defy rushes in like a storm.
Asteril laughed vacantly. There was no way to avoid it. She was merely tiny dust spinning within the fetters of fate. At least Ketones might form the bones of those fetters.
Kallian gazed at her in silence. As if looking at a girl standing in a building about to collapse... with eyes that vividly revealed such anxious feelings.
"Oh, right."
Asteril, looking out the window, suddenly seemed to remember something and called to him. She placed her lips beneath her fingernail and whispered Hestia's name. A fire seed sparked and flew up.
"Hestia says she wants a new brazier."
Bukpung, lying indolently on a branch outside the window, picked his nose and looked inside. Had that chatty one finally returned to normal?
"She says she'd like a bronze brazier with flower patterns in relief."
Rel... what? Kallian frowned as he looked at Hestia floating in the air.
"She says for the first sacred year, build and set up an altar outdoors, and after that, build a marble temple and create her own space inside..."
Asteril found Hestia, who sparked whenever she chattered, endlessly cute, nodding and saying "Really? That too?"
Why were all the ones Gaia raised like that? From Bukpung to Hestia, even Nyx—they were all spoiled brats.
The one he actually wanted to spoil, perhaps because she wasn't raised by Gaia's hand, was too sensible for her own good.
Kallian narrowed his eyes in displeasure and summoned Hanpung, ordering him to quickly go to the spring.
Hestia, humming as she thought about her new bronze brazier, failed to detect Kallian's murderous intent toward her. Perhaps because she hadn't yet adapted to Lethe. Bukpung looked in through the window and clicked his tongue at the newcomer's future.
Presently, Hanpung returned. He stealthily approached the fire spirit who was lying sprawled in the air as if it were her own bedroom, oblivious to propriety. Hestia, who naturally disliked cold, glanced at Hanpung and glared in complaint.
"Drench her."
Kallian said, resting his chin on his hand. Hanpung followed without delay. He calculated the angle that would maximize the amount of water pouring from the jar carried on his tail, and poured it precisely onto the crown of Hestia's head.
Suddenly hit by a deluge, Hestia shrieked at seeing her dying fire seed sputtering, and Bukpung outside the window looked in with wide eyes and burst into guffaws.
"Lethe dislikes commotion."
Hestia flinched. Only then did she sense something was wrong.
The ruler in a black himation, with skin pale as marble, was draped in ominous murderous intent. Where boredom should have lingered in his eyes, irritation dwelled instead. When a Keton develops neurosis, there is no greater disaster.
"If you wish to be dragged to Tartarus and eternally bound where fire and ice meet, by all means, continue."
Hestia shook her head with all her might. No, I hate both water and fire. Unless it's my own body's flame, I detest even brushing against a bonfire's breath. Hestia said politely. Indeed, she had such severe mysophobia and an arrogant nature that she wouldn't even speak with other fire spirits.
Looking like a water-soaked mouse, Hestia barely breathed out a puff of heat and prostrated herself. She even burst into tears. He was the most beautiful among Ketones, the master of Lethe, but as she'd heard, his temperament was also the most wretched.
They said he executed even his own kind without mercy, so she couldn't help trembling. With power enough to annihilate Ketones, he would handle a spirit's life as easily as melting a snowflake in his hand.
"Then now, quietly disappear from my sight. Before I finish pouring this wine."
As Kallian picked up the wine glass on the table, Hestia threw herself into the hearth's ashes. The dying fire began to blaze back to life with her breathing.
The room instantly grew warm. He should have stuffed her in there earlier. Anyway, chatterbox and complaining spirits were a matter of taming.
Kallian hooked Asteril's waist and burrowed into the blankets with her. She glared at him, asking what he was doing. Wasn't Hestia pitiful?
"Is your compassion reserved only for me?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"What about me, who had to endure watching you sleep for three days and nights?"
"You said you had a lot to do. That you were busy..."
"If I hadn't done something, I would have held your unconscious body and satisfied my lust alone. I've already endured that humiliation several times."
"Several times? When were these several times?"
Kallian removed Asteril's clothes and buried his lips in her bare shoulder. If you don't remember, you may consider it didn't happen. She was exasperated by his attitude of speaking as if doing her a favor...
Rough breath soon burst from her lips. His hand, digging between her legs, was pushing through the moist mound.
His lower body, with no strength left to endure, entered swollen and sliding. At the force thrusting upward from behind with wet sounds, her breast held in his hand swayed heavily.
"Ah..."
His breath on her back exhaled heavily several times, then his tongue extended to lick down her dry spine. For some reason, he hesitated once or twice, but soon buried his lips again. Carefully, as if soothing a wound.
He sucked at her side skin, leaving reddish bruise marks.
His lower body, which had been pushing in wetly, stopped moving. Kallian pressed her slightly lifted waist against his abdomen and rubbed against her. Their groins pressed tightly together as if not allowing even an inch of gap.
"I'll be a bit rough... endure it, my dear."
He whispered softly, then inserted his tongue into her ear. Holding her chin fixed so she couldn't even tremble.
From thighs where water splashed with wet sounds, the sound of skin slapping together rapidly continued.
"Ah, hut, eung, haeut... you're, you're too rough!"
He wordlessly thrust only himself in. His face, narrowed brow and concentrated, seemed to struggle with releasing the force constantly trying to push in. It was because habits from when he was briefly human remained.
Unable to withstand the erratic, striking impulses of Erebus, he turned her face aside and captured her lips. He sucked fiercely, as if trying to tear off her lower lip, drawing out her panting breaths.
Asteril gasped for breath and pleaded.
"Ugh... K-Kal... P-pull out..."
He held back his release, alternating between pausing and thrusting fiercely. Smearing the leaking seed inside, he thrust deep as if grinding into her.
"Hah... Pull out? Why would I pull out..."
He pulled his lower body out slightly, smearing the slick fluid that had flowed over her mound onto the outside. Unable to fully take him in, Asteril kept trying to push him out. He knew. He knew her body was not yet ready to accept him.
"Then, j-just a little..."
"That is impossible."
"Hah, hahh, Kalian..."
"Be quiet, you."
"It's too full. It feels like I'm being pierced inside..."
He let out a low, ragged breath. Closing his eyes, he buried his forehead against her shoulder.
"I told you to be quiet..."
Her weeping moans made his heart race. Why did even that voice have to be exactly to his liking? A tearful face on a frail body—it was a sight that didn't just stimulate his Ketos instincts, but drove him utterly mad.
"Just a little."
The voice spilled out like a groan through gritted teeth, growing hoarse.
"You just need to endure a little."
"Ah, ahh, hahng, aht!"
The manhood that had entered with a squelch lost all reason, plunging relentlessly between her spread legs.
Roughly kneading her breasts, he tugged at her nipples as if trying to tear them off. Asteril, who had been arching her hips unconsciously, thrashed and trembled as he grabbed her pelvis and pinned it down firmly, before letting her limbs drop limply with a long exhale.
As she reached her climax, her walls clamped down as if twisting around him, and Kalian, unable to hold back any longer, finally let out a groan.
"Ugh... Uht, hah..."
He had released, but the slick, squelching sounds continued. The slick, slippery sensation of friction. He drove deep inside her once more, lost in the sensation.
Staring blankly at the ceiling, Asteril swayed like a ragdoll. Through her parted lips, moans spilled out intermittently, like delirious ramblings.
Having lost consciousness, she made no more sounds. He placed a hand over the crown of her head to keep it from hitting the wall.
The seed that squelched out thoroughly soaked her mound. It was so slippery that his member kept slipping out. Kalian hoisted her hips up high. Spilling his seed inside her like a beast while she was unconscious was something he had done many times before, so he was used to it.
Yet, for all his familiarity, the pleasure reached its peak every single time. A low groan of satisfaction slipped from his tight throat. His lower body, hooked deep inside her, swelled rock-hard before releasing, repeating the cycle multiple times.
Some time later, as he slowly pulled out, she trembled softly and gasped; catching his own breath, he froze mid-motion. He throbbed once more, inevitably spilling over.
"You truly..."
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he pushed his seed-slicked member back inside. A voice, locked tight enough to sound like grinding metal, whispered amidst his groans.
"The only one who makes me crumble... Hah, uht..."
Propping himself up on his elbows, still joined with her, Kalian looked down at her flushed cheeks.
The only one.
The unrivaled master of his breath, his precious and beloved heart, his reason for existence. My Anteros, my companion.
The love soaking his gaze suddenly turned freezing cold.
An unfamiliar crack had appeared on her white shoulder, like a fine wrinkle. He hastily pulled the blankets back, scanning every inch of her naked body. The cracks that had only been visible on her limbs had spread long across her back and sides.
Dumbfounded, he slumped down and stared at her fast asleep. He couldn't say a word.
And so, he spent another sleepless, pale night.
Ψ
The next morning. Dewdrops gathered like beads on the windowsill. The North Wind blew against those bead-like drops, knocking them to the ground one by one. He cackled, seemingly amused by the fate of the water drops as they burst and vanished.
Watching the sight with a sleep-heavy face, Asteril sighed as if finding him childish.
"Stop it, Notos."
- Why? It's fun.
"Instead of doing that, could you go fetch me a glass of water?"
- You can fetch it yourself. Does Despoina not have hands?
"I don't. I only have one hand now."
Startled, the North Wind's eyes went wide. He flew over in a fluster, fluttering about in a panic.
- Let me see, really? Gasp... What happened to your fingers!
"Will you fetch it for me now?"
- Yeah, of course. But Despoina... are you really okay? Your complexion looks terrible. Your skin used to glow even if you didn't wash for days, but now it looks like the parched, cracked rice paddies of Side.
Asteril shot him a glare.
"Notos, there has never been a drought in Side. And when have I ever gone days without washing?"
- You did sometimes. It just didn't show because you're naturally glowing. If my Lord knew, he would probably...
"Quiet."
- Yeah, but you saw, right? How tight-lipped I am...
Mumbling, the North Wind glanced around as if checking for anyone nearby, then whispered low.
- My Lord has been suffering deeply. You wouldn't know since you were asleep, but he went to Triton's Agora for three days straight, then to the market in Side—I've never seen him so frantic. He even gathered healers and herbalists to threaten them... He even went to Mount Caucasus and the Garden of the Hesperides searching for medicinal herbs that don't even exist in this world. The rocky mountain where flocks of giant eagles fly and the nymphs' garden with the golden apples, you know the one, right?
Asteril listened in silence, wondering when the North Wind's mouth would ever become heavy even for a fleeting moment.
- Anyway, Despoina, you're of Lady Gaia's bloodline. Nothing bad will happen to you, right? Right?
Seeing the North Wind finally reduced to sniffles, Asteril gestured him over and stroked his head. Stroking the wind was a logical impossibility, but even the mere gesture seemed to reassure him, and the North Wind fluttered about like a child.
Feeling much more at ease, he perched himself back on the windowsill and started running his mouth again.
- I heard that on Mount Parnassus, some crazy woman is running around carrying a headless corpse in her arms.
"A headless corpse?"
- Yeah. When the hunchbacked woman with white hair runs around screaming with her head held high, a man who's nothing but a head shouts at her to put him down, and they fight.
A man who can speak even with his head cut off. A hunchbacked woman with white hair...
- There are plenty of witnesses in Delphi. Some say the man's hair is pitch-black like seaweed, while others say it's bright gold like the sun. They even started a betting pool on which side is right.
Asteril swung her feet off the bed and stood up. The North Wind scurried after her, continuing his chatter.
- You figured out who they're talking about, right, Despoina?
"Yeah. It's Psyche and Nyx. But who cut off Nyx's head? Surely not Kalian?"
- No, it was Lord Uranos. Because he dared to harm Lady Ananke. Lord Kalian's ruthless nature takes after his father, Lord Uranos. Lady Ananke is surprisingly full of affection, after all.
Asteril let out a soft chuckle. She couldn't help but agree with his final remark.
Just then, the North Wind went, "Huh?" and looked back. A needle-like, sharp current of air grabbed him by the nape.
It was Kalian's summons. Asteril nodded, signaling him to go. The North Wind scurried away across the sky.
In the meantime, Asteril shook out the bed and smoothed the blankets. They were steeped in Kalian's scent. The events of the previous night suddenly came to mind. She buried her cheek in the blankets, closing her eyes as she traced the memory of his low groans in her mind. Then, she recalled the sight of him burying his face into the blankets in despair.
For a moment... a wave of sorrow washed over her.
Staring blankly around the room, she walked over to the vanity table. She thought she might freshen up a bit. Sitting down on the chair draped with sheepskin, she first untied her bound hair.
On the table lay an exquisitely crafted ivory comb, each tooth meticulously coated with scented oil. She gently drew the wide-toothed comb through her hair. Her hair had been falling out so easily lately that she had to be exceptionally careful.
A cold wind blew in through the window, lining up sparkling hair ornaments in a row. They were kekryphaloi8) made of metal and ribbons.
She looked up, wondering where such things could have come from. Had the princesses left them behind in their haste to pack? The cold wind feigned ignorance, looking the other way.
Asteril gathered her hair and twisted it up into a neat coil. She then secured it firmly with a hairnet woven with gold thread and pearl ornaments. The stray wisps were tied with a thin, narrow ribbon and hidden discreetly behind her ears.
She looked into the bronze mirror and smiled. It wasn't quite up to par with what the skilled ladies-in-waiting of the royal palace could do, but it was still excellent in its own right. This unexpectedly discovered deftness reminded her of Gaia. The Queen Mother had rather rough hands, so her father, Kakeitos, must have been the same.
The cold wind slipped an intertwined gold bracelet, featuring two snakes facing each other, onto her wrist. It was Gaia's totem. The princesses couldn't have owned something like this, so could it have been Kalian? The same went for the pricey ivory comb she had never seen before; the suspicious circumstances were lining up one after another.
"Can I wear this?"
Asteril asked, pointing to the kalasiris9) hanging on the chair. The cold wind nodded. As Asteril draped herself in the veil-like, white, translucent dress, the cold wind pinned a golden rose brooch to her chest.
The sandals adorned with jewels and knots were light and elegant. Once she sat down and the cold wind tied the laces for her, it stepped aside as if telling her to take a walk.
As was typical of items crafted by master artisans, they produced a pleasant, resonant chime with every step. They were the kind of wares one might only find in Triton's luxury markets.
Next, she opened the powder jars. Her complexion was so terribly pale that without powder, she looked like a corpse just dragged out of the River Styx.
After a moment's hesitation, Asteril dabbed just a touch of red rouge onto her cheeks. It looked much better.
"Do not apply any on your lips. I will end up eating it all anyway."
Startled, Asteril turned around while still in the posture of looking into the mirror. Kalian was leaning against the doorframe, gazing at her.
Bathed in the morning sunlight, his face was as dazzling as the radiance of the sun god. His straight nose and deep-set eyes made her heart pound all the more, and his pursed rose-colored lips—though they had seized her heart every time they kissed—were so strikingly beautiful, like a sculpture, that she couldn't tear her eyes away.
Always clad in dark clothing, he was for some reason wearing a bright ivory himation today. Like hers, it was woven from premium linen.
Gold ornaments with pendants were wrapped around his arms and shoulders, and on one ear, he wore an earring studded with a ruby the same color as his eyes. It was no illusion; he truly looked as resplendent and noble as a god above the clouds.
"Is today... some kind of special occasion?"
He walked over wordlessly and placed a golden tiara on her head. It was a feminine gold crown interwoven with flowers and vines. At its center, top-grade red garnets were densely embedded.
"The garnet is Gaia's symbol."
Asteril wore a puzzled expression. He courteously extended his hand to her. It was an unfamiliar demeanor—like a youth from a temple attending to his goddess.
She didn't know what it meant, but her heart raced. The sunlight shining like a halo behind him looked like a door she needed to open. With a trembling heart, she took his hand.
Then, as if he had been waiting for this very moment, Kalian whispered.
"Welcome to Olympus, my goddess."
Ψ
It was a day that truly captured the essence of the season. On a day like this, one should feel the earth beneath bare feet, but the garden was far too formally adorned for that.
The moment she stepped over the threshold, the scent of freshly baked bread and sour cheese pricked her nose. A long bench made of wicker and a table wiped down with mint were draped in pristine white linen.
The prepared food flew in one after another. Compared to the cold wind, who worked without a single complaint, the North Wind was busy grumbling every time he moved something.
Green olives, blanched radishes, fruits preserved in wine lees, hard-boiled eggs, dried figs, shriveled dates, young and sour grape clusters, and even honeycombs dripping with glistening honey.
A bonfire crackled in the garden, overgrown with dead grass and weeds. A suckling pig, tied to a spit, roasted over the fire, wafting out a mouthwatering aroma.
Suddenly, a rumbling sound echoed, and the cold wind and the North Wind recoiled in shock. The gale dropped a whole pile of wine-diluting jugs it had been carrying on its back onto the ground.
Just which drunkard was coming that they needed this much alcohol? Boreas beat a hasty retreat, fearing he might be ordered to pour the drinks.
Asteril gazed at a particularly ornate chair and pondered. It was an oak chair with a backrest adorned with olive leaves and grapevines, and a soft rush cushion placed on the seat.
This was a banquet. A celebratory feast where there was unquestionably a guest of honor. For whom was this seat prepared? Could it be...?
Just then, a flash resembling lightning illuminated the deep blue sky. A swarm of locusts flew in, and Ananke emerged from among them. Steam billowed as the gray Uranus also made his appearance.
It was the Ketons. The Ketons had arrived.
The trees murmured in fear. Asteril was so startled she couldn't finish her words.
Following that, the sound of churning water echoed as Pontus and Thalassa walked forth. Pontus was shaking the sea foam from his trident onto the ground.
The sky darkened to a pitch black. A bustling murmur, as if conversations were being exchanged, drifted over. Riding the winds sent by Uranus, more of the clan arrived. They descended to the ground, paid their respects to their chieftain Uranus, and embraced one another in reunion.
The daughter of Gaia. The lover of Calian. The key to Asphodel and Ambrosia. A candidate for the new throne?
Curious gazes poured in from all directions. Asteril searched for Calian with an uneasy face. He approached from behind and pulled her into an embrace.
"There is nothing to fear. They are all Ketons who once shared Gaia's will."
The Ketons wore tense expressions upon seeing Calian. The rumor that he had annihilated all the dissidents of Nysa had already spread like wildfire among the clan.
He was now called the Blade of Chaos. He could easily be deemed the master of Erebus. There were quite a few who had been too intimidated to show their faces at this gathering today.
"The birth of the Asphodel is cause for celebration, yet I heard that Gaia has ultimately perished. Will the same situation not repeat itself, then? Without Gaia's blood, the sacred tree will wither and die once more."
Someone voiced their concerns. Everyone nodded in agreement. She was mortal, just as they had heard. This being who was Gaia's sole remaining daughter.
"Do not worry."
Asteril spoke.
"The Asphodels will no longer require anyone's blood. They are not Lady Gaia's Asphodels, but my Asphodels."
Even the sound of the wind ceased. It was a voice that, for some unknown reason, carried such conviction that it compelled one to listen.
"Henceforth, they will bloom and bear fruit of their own accord. They are strong children possessing the power to do so. So please, set your minds at ease. Even if I were to perish, the Asphodels will continue to thrive."
Only then did everyone's expressions brighten. That was what they wanted to hear. Daughter of Gaia or not, what truly mattered was the Ambrosia—their own safety and survival.
The clan raised their cups in satisfaction. The wind spirits each took up an instrument. Then, as if showing off their respective skills, they began to play the wire-strung harps and the aulos.
The garden birds brought flower crowns, densely woven with their beaks, and placed them one by one upon the heads of the female Ketons. As flowers and music grew abundant, the atmosphere of the banquet finally began to ripen.
"On behalf of the clan, I pay you my respects, bloodline of Gaia."
Uranus approached Asteril and offered her a flower. Asteril accepted it awkwardly. She couldn't bring herself to speak, unsure of what to say.
The supreme being she had served and revered as a deity her entire life was standing right before her eyes, tenderly calling her name.
"Come here, my daughter. Leave the foolish men behind and let us women share a tender bond."
At Ananke's gesture, Asteril's face instantly brightened. She bowed respectfully to Uranus, then ran toward Ananke with such enthusiasm that the golden crown on her head shook.
The two pushed their chairs together and sat side by side. Then, as if they were old friends meeting for the second time that day, they began to whisper affectionately.
Ananke listened with her chin resting on her hand, while Asteril chattered incessantly like a child returning from a grand adventure. Before long, Thalassa also drew near to listen, and together they waved their hands and laughed.
The bonfire continued to blaze. Pontus shared drinks with Uranus as they exchanged casual conversation. The name of Ares occasionally surfaced, though the topic was nothing serious. The fathers burst into hearty laughter, as if the matter were nothing more than a passing breeze.
Tender voices ceaselessly filled the air. It was a scene much like women gathering at the well every dawn, cackling as they shared the events of a single night.
It was the first time Asteril had ever looked so unguardedly joyful. Even when she was with the princesses of the detached palace, or when she poured out stories of the queen mother and her sisters back in her homeland, her eyes had never sparkled with such pure innocence.
When Ananke caressed her cheek, she looked up like a child awaiting the next gesture, smiling with dimpled cheeks.
Just then, Ananke frowned and snatched her wrist, staring at it intently.
Several of her fingers had crumbled away, and the ones remaining dangled loosely as if ready to fall off at any moment. Asteril pulled her hand away as if it were nothing and hid it beneath the dining table. A brief silence fell.
Ananke looked at Calian, who was sitting across from them. Calian was terrifyingly still. Sitting there like a vortex of darkness being sucked into the earth, his dark eyes captured every detail of her figure without missing a single thing.
With what sort of feelings did he maintain such a composed expression, staring at her so piercingly as if wearing a mask?
He heard his mother's secretive voice, but Calian feigned ignorance. Just as his mother said, he was too busy maintaining his mask. Merely looking at her smile was already more than he could handle.
The water in the clepsydra was depleting rapidly. The usually unhurried Eos was ungracious today; she seemed to be drawing in her long tresses earlier than usual.
In the deepening blue sky, stars appeared, embedded like the points of needles. Ananke stood up with a smile, feigning intoxication. It was a foolish pretense; there wasn't a single soul among them who didn't know she was a heavy drinker.
She cupped the cheeks of Asteril, who was looking up at her, and planted a kiss on her forehead.
"I love you, my daughter."
Then, she continued in a tone of regret.
"But it is now time for us to return."
Uranus approached and kissed Asteril on the cheek. The breath of the sky god was cool and refreshing. Pontus pressed his lips to the back of her hand in reverence. Thalassa slipped a bracelet, crafted from gathered starlight, onto her wrist.
A swarm of shimmering golden butterflies flew in. They unfurled a peplos that Ananke had personally crafted, letting it drape in the air like a veil.
It was a peplos woven from the finest linen and delicately embroidered. Asteril rejoiced as she draped the garment over herself. Thalassa stepped forward and pinned a butterfly-shaped brooch onto it.
Everyone burst into laughter as they watched Asteril spin around on her tiptoes, showing off her new attire. Only Calian stood leaning against a tree with his arms crossed, silently watching her.
"Great Keton, miracle born of the earth, sole daughter of Gaia."
Ananke raised her cup one last time and proclaimed. Everyone's faces were flushed as if intoxicated by the alcohol. Asteril quietly waited for her to finish. Ananke stroked Asteril's hair and spoke in a voice befitting a god.
"I, Ananke, bestow upon you the title: Asteril of Life."
A title. It was an honor that only the foremost Ketons—those recognized for their prowess, deemed worthy of ascending the rock of Olympus—could grasp.
"Welcome to Olympus as one of its own."
Ah, only then did she understand the words Calian had spoken when he reached out his hand. Today was the day the Thrones accepted her as a member of the sacred council.
She was a human. A mortal, infinitely frail existence. Yet, the Ketons of Lethe applauded without a shred of hesitation. Asteril faltered in bewilderment before her eyes welled with tears.
"Now, do not act like a guest. You are our family now. You are the daughter of Uranus, the daughter of Ananke, and the companion of Calian. Hold your head high as the Despoina of Lethe, and wear a smile that no one who sees you can ever forget. That is the bearing of a Throne."
Asteril finally burst into tears, overwhelmed by emotion. How could such a day ever come to pass? How could so much joy and ecstasy befall her?
Today, she had received more embraces than she had in her entire life, and more gifts than she could count.
She couldn't help but weep.
Ψ
The music that had flowed along the Milky Way ceased, and the silence that suddenly descended was perfect for reflecting on the day's joy.
Everyone left Lethe with expressions of deep satisfaction, while Ananke grabbed the scruffs of the men who, oblivious to the mood, wanted to linger longer, dragging them away.
Before ascending the tempest, Ananke took one last look around. Calian stood there—the man who, throughout the entire banquet, had hidden his anxiety behind his back, staring intensely at his lover's fragile shoulders.
The choices of life cannot be as easily untangled as thread unwound from a spindle. Just as the Milky Way, once spilled across the sky, cannot be scooped back into a jar with a ladle.
Yet, because of this, life is beautiful, and the night sky is endlessly mystical; who could dare criticize what went wrong? It, too, was simply a pattern woven into the fabric of life.
Once everyone had departed, Boreas hung lanterns on the garden trees. He placed corn-husk candleholders here and there to illuminate the night path, which was overgrown with dense thickets. The lord would take the Despoina to the spring.
Hanpung had already prepared a wooden basin, soft linen cloths, and moist fragrant oils to apply to the body. To add to this, Hestia had breathed her warm breath upon the spring, heating it like a hot spring.
Calian undressed her as she flushed with shyness, and they entered the water together, bare-skinned. Asteril only turned her shoulders to meet his gaze after countless rose petals scattered across the water's surface had concealed her body.
"How could you possibly..."
A hand parting the water made a clear, rippling sound. He caressed her breast, murmuring as if speaking to himself.
"If you had not met me, you might have lived an ordinary life like any other princess."
"Before a princess, I was a priestess. I would have spent my life confined to the temple, playing with Rhea, the west wind, and the hills. Even that would have left me breathless as I aged, and using my healing powers would have gradually become too taxing. With no chance to interact with men other than the believers and priests, I would never have known the touch of another man. Even so, I was prepared to live a life devoted to the gods."
"Ah."
He let out a low sigh. With a deliberately feigned demeanor. His thinly narrowed eyes inquired, just as when he pressed his lips against her soft skin. With a resonant voice that made her body grow hot.
"Was Gaia the sole object of that devotion?"
Had it been any other male god, he would have destroyed that altar and statue without leaving a single trace. Even if it had only been for a fleeting moment in the past.
"Devote yourself, then."
"..."
"Offer your everything to me as well."
A hand approached with a splash, grasping her shoulder as their lips overlapped. With a gasping breath, his tongue pushed its way in.
If simply being held like this and accepting his love was what he called devotion, she felt she could do so for eternity. Even if her body were to crumble away like sand in the desert.
In the water, his member pierced into her like a thrust. Sitting her upon his thighs and burying himself within her, he let out a low, chest-rumbling bass, like a groan.
"Ah, aheuk..."
"Do not move."
"Heok, heuah, ah!"
Grabbing her waist, he forced her down, binding her tightly in an embrace as he sank his teeth into her shoulder.
Her plump breasts quivered, folding together like the wings of a butterfly. Asteril let out a sobbing moan.
"My lower belly... it's, it's so stiff."
The pillar swelling within her pressed against her lower belly, threatening to burst.
"Take it all in."
He exhaled a low, ragged breath. With his eyes closed, he buried his forehead against her shoulder. The voice spilling from between his clenched teeth was steeped in restraint.
"I will not tolerate pulling out."
Calian grasped her pelvis and began to thrust heavily. Asteril swayed back and forth, unable to withstand his strength and pace.
"Ah, aheut, haahng, ahat!"
Her hair spread out like aquatic plants swaying in the water. Between the strands, her red lips had their breath stolen by him as he came in, biting at her intermittently.
Asteril, who had been unconsciously lifting her hips, suddenly flinched at a surge of pleasure racing up her spine, her movements halting. She convulsed, clenching her core tightly. As the pleasure overwhelmed her and Asteril ground her hips against him, Calian could no longer hold back and finally let out a groan.
The seed gushed forth. The pulsing essence, swelling greatly before spurting in fine bursts, poured hotly into her womb.
The water mixed with their bodily fluids sloshed murkily. As the slapping sounds of water ceased, languid breaths followed.
"Do you... not dream of having a child or anything like that?"
Asteril, who had been catching her breath with her cheek pressed against his chest, lifted her heavy eyelids. A child. It wasn't as if she had never thought about it. It was a topic akin to a rite of passage that every woman must go through at least once in her life.
"I've never dreamed of having a child. Because I didn't have the confidence to become a mother."
"...."
"But if it were your child, if such a miracle were given... I think I would probably be greedy. How pretty would they be? A being for whom it wouldn't be a waste to give my everything..."
"If they take after you, they would be."
"What if they take after you?"
Kallian avoided her gaze and picked up the wine cup placed on the rock. He didn't seem too keen on it.
"Why? Do you not like that?"
A gaze that seemed to ask, *Must you?* looked down at her.
"Why should they resemble me when they have you?"
"Because you are more beautiful than me...?"
Looking at her smiling radiantly, Kallian considered how to retort but gave up. She wouldn't understand no matter what he said, anyway. With what words could he express the sight of her reflected in his eyes, those tender feelings?
My Anteros who knows nothing, and thus she is so lovely.
He placed her body between his legs and embraced her from behind. Perhaps because of his breath brushing the nape of her neck, she laughed, saying it tickled.
"You... truly do not resemble Gaia even a tiny bit."
"Really?"
A splashing sound of water arose. It was because Kallian shifted his legs. He pulled her, who was nestled between his legs, even closer to his body.
"Gaia was a god-like existence to the Keton. She herself knew it too."
"Something like the Vice-God, Chaos...?"
"It's not an evil feeling like Chaos."
"Is it okay to insult the Vice-God like that?"
"I don't think they'd care much."
Her thoughts were the same on that.
"But how does that become the basis for me not resembling Gaia?"
"You weren't exactly pleased with becoming someone's god, were you? You'd rather receive love than give it."
Kallian grasped Asteril's chin and kissed her. He pushed his tongue in, swept over her teeth, and licked and sucked her lips.
"You only want to receive the love of a male god like me all day long, aren't you?"
Asteril, who had become hazy, couldn't answer. Kallian hugged her tightly and whispered.
"Don't become like Gaia. Don't even think of becoming everyone's goddess. You are enough as just my own priestess."
That alone is enough. Muttering so, he hugged her waist tightly as if afraid she might run away.
"I love you, Asteril."
Her breath caught.
"I love you."
Asteril stroked the hair of him who was confessing with his cheek pressed against her waist. Tears flowing down her cheeks fell and sank into the water. It was a relief. He would merely think they were water droplets from his wet hair.
An owl hooted. Fluttering as it swam through the darkness. Chaos, embracing the darkness, was watching them with eyes that sparkled like stars.
The deep blue night passed as if raking across their backs.
Ψ
The next day, Asteril, who had slept until the sun fully set and the stars came out, didn't open her eyes until near midnight, and then begged to go to the Himeros flower garden. Holding her, he walked the moonlit earth.
As they walked through the center of the garden full of white blooming flowers, the Himeros sang in praise of their love. It was a tone that sounded even more beautiful if one closed their eyes. The two headed under the tree where they had first overlapped their lips sometime ago.
Kallian stirred up the wind and scattered a rain of white flowers. Asteril, looking blankly up at the empty air, muttered as if possessed. *It's pretty.* Whispering in a husky voice, she drew a faint smile on her lips.
Everything was blurry from the pain. The wind briefly brushed her forehead, and when she closed and opened her eyes, the stars had faded. Asteril closed her eyes again as if sleepy.
Kallian stayed by her side without distinguishing day and night. Lying on his side with his chin resting on his hand next to her sleeping figure, he stroked her thin back, and sometimes, like the day they had first joined their bodies, he used his arm as a pillow for her and closed his eyes with his lips against her cheek.
When she was conscious and opened her eyes, he would wait for the focus to form in her pitch-black pupils and then casually greet her as if it were a dazzling morning.
"Is it acceptable for a priestess who is to receive a god to sleep in this late every day? When your very male god is staying up all night like this, looking only at you."
Every time he did that, she would softly curve her lips and hold back her laughter. Then, she would quietly pull her hand out from under the blanket and stretch the corners of his mouth. He would look down with a gaze asking what on earth she was doing, and Asteril would giggle.
After that, the two would smother each other in random kisses under the blanket with flying white fuzz. Around the time she couldn't withstand the ticklishness and couldn't hold back her laughter, a soft, murmuring conversation would begin.
Like a persistent male god determined to find out everything about his lover, Kallian poured out all sorts of questions. It was the first time they had talked nonstop for days on end like this.
"Why was I nine years old?"
Asteril sank into recollection with an "Um...". Having fallen into a deep sleep by a mysterious power as soon as she was born, she suddenly woke up one day after more than ten years.
She remembered the old priestess guarding her side cheering, and a few days later, the Mowang wearing a golden crown arriving with tearful eyes.
The growth achieved slowly over the entire time she was asleep created a considerable difference between her actual age and the age range she appeared to be.
After much deliberation, Amphita set her age at nine. And she called Kiane and Penelope to introduce them.
"First of all, I had to be younger than Sister Penelope. At the time, my appearance looked about eight or nine years old at a glance. Since the Mowang had a somewhat pessimistic side to him, I also think he might have wanted to bestow something divine upon me."
"Something divine?"
"Nine is the number of the gods, isn't it?"
He had an expression as if hearing it for the first time. That made sense. It was also funny that the Keton were calculating this as a mortal number, that as a finite number.
"The Mother Goddess and the Vice-God coupled for nine days, and afterwards the Mother Goddess groaned for nine days to birth the earth, and weren't many gods born at the end of the nine days of labor? Chaos stretched out ninety-nine hands to craft the night sky, and the sun god's palace has nine pillars. The number of heads of the monster guarding the front of that terrifying Tartarus is also nine, and the sisters of Mousai, the goddesses of music who bring joy to the world, are also nine. Oh, do you remember the clay doll made for you was also crafted over nine days? It's a fun coincidence. Anyway, thus I also became nine years old. Containing the wishes of the Mowang, and the desire of Pandora that the Mowang had in mind..."
Perhaps because she was out of breath, she took a long, deep breath.
"Our priests believe nine is the number of eternal life. So all festivals end on the eighth day at the latest. The ninth night is the night of the gods. The ninth night is..."
She trailed off and stared into the empty air. His gaze followed hers. Asteril muttered blankly and asked.
"How many days has it been since we came to Lethe?"
"I don't know."
"Come on..."
"Isn't it funny for a Keton to live counting the days?"
Generally, that would be true... but you seem like you would have counted.
"I didn't count."
He retorted as if he had read her mind. A snort of laughter leaked out.
The playfulness continued. The tickling hand movements turned into teasing. Between the moans letting out warm breaths, he pushed his way in.
Kallian, who overlapped their lips while gripping her breast with one hand, inserted his tongue. He quickly swept the inside of her mouth, sucked her upper lip, and then pulled his lips away. *Are you out of breath, my dear? It's okay.*
Nevertheless, he stopped. As if that was enough to merely wet his thirst.
"I feel like I've enjoyed all the joys of my life in this place."
Kallian made an exasperated expression. *Right. How long could your so-called life possibly be?*
"Shouldn't you at least live as long as me to be able to say such things?"
"Even Kal has only just reached adulthood, so in human terms, isn't he a youth who just turned twenty?"
Twenty. At those words, Kallian seemed at a loss for words. Not even two hundred years, but twenty.
"But how old are you?"
"I don't know."
"You haven't counted that either?"
"No matter how bored they are, no Keton counts something so pathetic."
"It's your own age, though?"
"That is your concept. To the Keton, there is no such thing as age."
Asteril burrowed into his embrace with a fascinated face.
"Still, you must have lived for over a thousand years, right?"
"Who?"
"You."
Isn't that obvious? He looked at her with such an expression, and
"What are you thinking, my dear?"
"It's a secret."
Normally, he would have playfully teased her body, telling her to spill it, but these past few days, he simply waited no matter the situation. He only looked at her with a calm gaze.
She knew. Why he was acting like this. Why he was trying to share so many stories whenever there was a chance. Afraid she would break, yet persistently mingling their flesh in the end, taking each other's breaths into their mouths only to be frustrated. He was enduring it too. He was holding out.
"Today is the eighth day."
Whether she had counted on her fingers under the blanket, it was accurate to an annoying degree. Kallian, resting his chin on his hand, retorted indifferently.
"Yes, it is the eighth night."
Her lips were chapped like dry fallen leaves. No matter how much he rubbed his lips against hers to wet them affectionately, they didn't return to how they were before.
Ψ
The next day, Asteril didn't move an inch in bed. Because she was so still that he didn't even know she was awake, Kallian froze while pulling back the blanket.
Her body beneath the blanket was blackened and corroded everywhere, like a rotting old tree.
Under her lower back, powder from her corroded body had piled up enough to fill both hands. Kallian barely managed to swallow and said.
"Just wait here for a moment... Wait, my dear."
With veins bulging in his neck, he turned away. He quickly left the room and leaned against the doorframe. As he burst out the breath he had been holding, a shattered breathing that felt like his chest would explode leaked out.
Her right arm was completely gone. Her white instep was also mangled, having lost its shape. Her side was sunken as if gnawed by mice. He lowered his head, pressing a hand to his forehead. It felt like someone was strangling him.
A little while later, Kallian returned, picked up Asteril, and sat her on a chair with a cushion. When she said she wanted to see a mirror, he brought one to her. Asteril, narrowing her eyes, muttered that she couldn't see well. When he brought the mirror closer to her, she flinched.
"White hair has appeared. Wrinkles around my mouth, too..."
Kallian slowly combed her hair with an olive wood comb applied with fragrant oil. Her stiffened hair was at a level where combing was difficult.
"Could you braid it in a half-up style like this?"
At her request to braid it long and thinly on both sides, he raised his hands. At first glance, his hand movements were calm. Of course, if doing things calmly made everything go smoothly, things like the thread of fate wouldn't exist.
It was an expected result. The back of her hair became a more miserable shape than woven straw.
"So Keton aren't good at everything either?"
At her words, he was speechless as if flustered. Asteril glanced sideways and smiled. She wondered what reaction he would show if she said such a sight was quite cute. Sometimes, she too wanted to gladly dote on him. To say she just loved even his arrogance.
"I like it."
The North Wind, unable to watch any longer, made a flower crown and placed it on her head.
- Despoina might like it, but I can't stand to look. At least cover it up a bit like this, okay?
He whispered, glancing at Kallian. Kallian, standing with his arms crossed, looked at the North Wind with displeasure. As if saying, *Do you think I won't hear you just because you whisper?*
Asteril burst into laughter. Laughing cheerfully while sitting in the chair, she suddenly coughed. Struggling in agony, she suddenly started gasping as if she couldn't breathe and crashed down along with the chair.
The North Wind screamed, and Kallian ran over in a single bound.
He held Asteril, who was sprawled under the chair. First, he kicked the door open and rushed out. The North Wind brought warm wool and covered her body. With every step Kallian took, he saw the powder smoothly falling to the floor. Her body was crumbling like a sandcastle.
"Poseidonia, no, to Demeter..."
Hanpung dashed before him like lightning and stood at the ready as he panted heavily. Kalian’s eyes wavered in turmoil.
Where to, where should I go....
An illness with no cure, no prescription, no remedy. She was simply sinking helplessly into the well of death.
"The garden... Take me to the garden..."
Asteril, who he thought had lost consciousness, spoke with effort through a cracked voice. Her purplish lips trembled. Kalian stared at her in silence before fiercely pulling her into an embrace.
"Alright... Let's go to the garden."
The garden, reached by walking across the earth where sunlight lay like a carpet, was deathly still. The Himeros let out only sorrowful breaths.
It was half a day later when Asteril opened her eyes again. Everyone waited in silence, pressing their foreheads together. The moment she lifted her eyelids, they all let out long sighs of held breath and began to sob. The choked voices of the wind, the trees, and the birds merged into a single weeping.
Kalian sat beneath the elm tree she loved, holding her body wrapped in layers of soft cloth.
Asteril felt Kalian’s face with her pale hands. It seemed her eyes could no longer see well.
Her remaining hand traced his lips. "Ah..." A faint smile settled on her lips as if she had found what she was looking for.
"I am here."
She pressed firmly against Kalian’s lips, stretching the corners of his mouth sideways.
"A smile only I can see."
The corners of her mouth, which had been smiling faintly, went slack.
"I wanted to see it... You smiling."
Kalian bit his lower lip. A voice repressing his emotions slipped through his clenched teeth, feigning calm.
"You will see it. I intend to practice, just as you said. All you have to do is teach me how to smile."
"I want to... I want to, but..."
Kalian squeezed her hand and bowed his head. His jaw trembled faintly.
"That is all you need to do. I can wait however long it takes."
"Are you crying?"
"..."
"Don't cry."
"..."
"I'm sorry for saying such things."
Burn... Burn my body in the Hestia.
"Are you asking me to..."
Do what? His dilated pupils asked exactly that. An emotion seeped into his crimson pupils like dawn mist. A shock that briefly welled up before dissipating, like the fading moonlight of dawn.
"Are you asking me to burn your body?"
With my own hands? You? His bloodshot eyes, streaked with red veins, asked back. The agony of him staring at her in bewilderment was palpable.
Kalian clutched both her hands fiercely, as if trying desperately to persuade her, only to let go without uttering a word.
He buried his face in his hands. When he raised his head again a moment later, moisture brimmed in his eyes.
"Please."
The god of the Ketons pleaded with a voice steeped in tears.
"Please, do not do this to me, my..."
Asteril stroked his cheek with a look of pity. My god, my heart, my sword, my Rian.
"Look."
Look at me.
"Look at my death."
He shook his head in refusal. His shoulders could be seen trembling.
As the hand he had been holding so tightly, afraid she would slip away, crumbled away like sand, Kalian snapped his head up. His red, tear-soaked eyes shook with shock.
"I have to go now."
"No, I cannot let you go."
"Then I will simply vanish."
"..."
"I don't want that. You must let me go."
"..."
"You are the wind. So with a gentle breath, blow me far away to a beautiful place."
"..."
"Try it just once."
"Do what?"
"Here, stretch the muscles like this..."
Her eyes were now unfocused, as if she had gone blind. Yet she pretended to see.
"You smile like this."
"..."
"If you try it a few times, it won't feel awkward anymore."
What was he supposed to look at, and toward whom was he supposed to smile? For what reason should he smile...?
"Why do you speak as if I will be left behind alone?"
Asteril gave him a puzzled look, as if asking what he meant.
"You are my Anteros. We will face even death together."
"Ah..."
She hesitated for a moment. She seemed to think of something, but choosing not to say it, she smiled weakly.
"...That's right, of course."
From somewhere, a cypress wept mournfully.
Despoina....
The shrubs and trees called out to her, stifling their sobs. Asteril glanced at them sideways and murmured that it was time to go.
Ψ
On the western hill where the last remaining Asphodelos had once stood alone, a wide, flat bronze brazier waited with its maw open. It was the Hestia she had longed for, her very own brazier, yet it held only a devastating silence.
Carrying Asteril on his back, Kalian paused his steps. He stared blankly at the Hestia, blazing brilliantly like a giant plume.
Asteril was as tranquil as if asleep. Her limbs had lost their shape, and even her shoulders were crumbling away, scattering in the wind.
"There is nothing to fear, my dear."
"..."
"When your flesh breathes its last, I shall soon turn to ash and follow you."
He continued, as if making a vow to himself.
"So you need not worry about anything."
Kalian gently laid her body down on the soft earth. Then, he carefully caressed her pale white face.
Crack, crumble. Her soft cheek crumbled into powder. Kalian buried his face in her chest. He wanted to hear her heartbeat. But her ribcage, rattling like a rotted branch, caved in and crumbled.
He raised his head to look at her. Her face was serene, as if she felt no pain. He quietly etched the sight into his eyes.
The crackle of burning flames reached his ears. The Hestia beckoned with its broad embrace, urging her to come.
The screams of the innkeepers of Lethe came to mind. The sight of them struggling, reaching out blackened hands from within the blazing inferno, flashed through his head.
Chaos had finally swung its scythe of condemnation upon him. Scattering the lumps of earth crushed by shattered bones and screams.
He carefully gathered Asteril into his arms, as if draping her over them. She was as light as parchment stripped of moisture. Her lifeless body spilled parts of itself like powder at the slightest vibration.
Standing before the flames, Kalian pressed his lips to her bloodless face. Just once more before her last warmth faded, just once more....
Even though she had begged him never to kiss her, saying she didn't want to be remembered with a dry, withered touch. Had even a single strand of her hair remained, he would have pressed his lips to it countless times. No matter what it was. He would have clung to it and embraced it until the very end.
Dry, gritty sand crunched between his teeth. He looked down in dismay. Her cheek and lips were gone.
A drop of moisture fell from his vacant eyes, seeping into her fading, shapeless form.
Whoosh.
The Hestia, having swallowed Asteril's body, contorted its flames as if dancing. Her blackened body shrank in an instant, finally oxidizing into ash until it was unrecognizable no matter how hard he stared.
Kalian’s eyes also lost their focus. He seemed entirely unaware of what he was even looking at.
The crimson flames condensed into a dark red before exhaling their final breath, erupting into a massive blaze that roared fiercely.
The embers adorning the sky were as brilliant as a flock of butterflies chasing the Milky Way. His gaze followed them weakly. The path of her departure was so vast and boundless it was terrifying to even look upon.