Later that night, the Underworld was quiet in a way the mortal realm could never be.
No wind, no insects, only the faint hum of magic that wove itself through the very air.
Hades walked with Nekyria along the winding path to the River Lethe, her small hand wrapped around two of his fingers.
The moonlight from the upper world didn’t reach this deep, but the river didn’t need it, each ripple shimred with a soft silver-blue glow, as though the water itself rembered the fallen stars.
Nekyria crouched at the edge, peering into the current. "Papa... does it really make you forget?"
"Yes," Hades replied, his voice low but not unkind. "A single sip, and mories you’ve carried for centuries could vanish forever."
She tilted her head. "Wouldn’t that be... scary?"
"For so," he said, watching the way the light bent over the waves. "But for others... it can be a rcy."
Nekyria reached out, her fingers just above the surface. "If I forgot everything... would I forget you too?"
"Yes," Hades answered truthfully.
She frowned, pulling her hand back quickly. "Then I don’t want to forget anything."
Hades said nothing for a mont. Then he crouched beside her, his hand resting gently atop her hair. "You won’t. Not while I am here."
The river’s glow reflected in her eyes as she smiled, leaning into his touch.
For awhile, they strolled the river in silence.
The River Lethes shimring as they passed by. Hades just realized how breathtaking this view is now that he actually decided to stop thinking of the future and just focus on the mont.
He wondered if the rest of the rivers have their own charms too.
Nekyria broke the stillness first, kicking her feet playfully. "Papa, if the river can take away mories, can it also give them back?"
Hades’s gaze lingered on the shimring current. "...No. That’s why it must be treated with care."
Well, if Lethe really wanted to, she can make them rember fragnts.
Just like how she made him rember bits of pieces of his past life, sothing he completely almost forgot.
"Oh..." She looked thoughtful for a second, then bead. "Then I’ll make so many good mories that I’ll never want to forget."
Hades allowed himself the faintest smile. "That would be wise."
They stayed there until the glow of the river dimd with the turning of unseen tides, father and daughter quietly watching as the waters carried away the past, and promised to never touch theirs.
The gravel path crunched softly under their feet as Hades walked through the garden, Nekyria trotting beside him with both hands clasped behind her back.
She was humming sothing tuneless, eyes darting from flower to flower.
Without warning, the air ahead shimred like sunlight on water, and a tall, serene figure erged, Lethe, her hair flowing like pale mist, her eyes deep and unreadable.
"Your Majesty," she greeted with a graceful nod, her voice as calm as a still pond.
"Lethe," Hades acknowledged with his usual asured tone. "I thought you’re busy today? Styx would punish you if she caught you slacking off."
Her gaze softened slightly. "Yes, but I felt the current call here. And it would be rude not to greet the king and his daughter."
Nekyria peeked out from behind her father’s leg, eyes bright with curiosity.
"Auntie Lethe!" she chirped.
Lethe knelt smoothly, her robes pooling around her, and smiled faintly.
"Princess," she said warmly, the title rolling off her tongue like a benediction.
Nekyria puffed out her chest. "Aunt Lethe, I told you not to call that. I don’t have a crown, I’m not a real princess."
"Ah," Lethe replied, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from Nekyria’s face, "but it is not the crown that makes the princess, little one. It’s how she carries herself... and how much she is loved."
Nekyria tilted her head, thinking this over. "So... does that an you’re a princess too?"
Lethe blinked, then gave the faintest smile. "Perhaps..."
"Then we can both be princesses," Nekyria declared matter-of-factly, slipping her small hand into Lethe’s. "But you have to promise not to forget ."
Lethe’s expression gentled, the ghost of a laugh escaping her lips. "Princess... you are the one thing I will never let slip away."
Hades watched them quietly, the corners of his mouth twitching in the barest trace of amusent.
They began walking together, the strange, colorful flowers swaying in the garden breeze.
They strolled slowly along the garden path, Lethe’s ethereal presence making the air around them feel cooler, calr.
Nekyria still held her hand, swinging it lightly as if trying to coax the normally stoic river goddess into matching her playful rhythm.
"Aunt Lethe, how can your river makes people forget?" Nekyria asked, peering up with wide eyes.
Lethe nodded. "It just does, princess. Maybe, I was born because people wanted to forget what they have experienced and start a new life."
Nekyria frowned slightly. "I don’t think I’d like that. If I forgot Papa or Mama, or any of my aunts... I’d be sad. Even if I didn’t rember why."
Lethe’s expression softened. "And that is why my river is not for you, little one. So mories are treasures... worth keeping, no matter how heavy they feel."
Hades glanced down at his daughter, his voice low but with a faint warmth. "Wise words. Hold onto them."
They reached the edge of the garden where the cobblestone path forked toward the courtyard.
Ahead, under the shade of a marble pavilion, Hera, Aphrodite, and Hecate stood together.
"Papa!" Nekyria tugged on his hand and pointed. "Over there!"
Hades gave Lethe a small nod of farewell. "Don’t stress yourself. Rest is important too."
"I will, my king." Lethe replied. "You as well, take care of yourself."
She turned towards Nekyria, "Until next ti, little princess."
"Bye, Auntie Lethe!" Nekyria waved until Lethe’s figure faded back into the shimring air.
The mont they joined Hera, Aphrodite, and Hecate, Hera raised a brow. "Done with your stroll?"
"Mm. It was nice," Hades replied. "I’m tired. Let’s head back to the palace now."
"Eh?" Nekyria looked up at him, looking confused. "But I haven’t had enough fun yet!"
Aphrodite smiled down at Nekyria. "Co now, little one. We can have a sleepover in your room."
Hecate leaned closer to the girl, whispering conspiratorially, "I made a biscuit. Don’t tell Hera."
"I heard that," Hera said dryly.
With a faint chuckle, Hades adjusted Nekyria onto his hip.
The small group began their walk back toward the towering black gates of the Underworld palace, the scent of cooked food drifting faintly from the kitchens, and the deep, steady heartbeat of the realm pulsing beneath their feet.
*
*
*
Back at the floating fortress, the vast halls were warm with a gentle golden light.
The chaos of the past months felt like a distant echo here, the walls no longer humming with war magic, the air calm and still.
Hades sat in a deep chair by the hearth, Nekyria curled in his lap with a thick blanket wrapped around her.
She had exhausted herself playing with Hera and the others until she asked to be taken to his room to sleep.
She had even insisted on a story, and he had obliged, though halfway through, her small breaths had already grown slow and steady.
"...And so, the last star in the sky refused to fade," Hades murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "because it still had a promise to keep."
She didn’t respond, already drifting deeper into sleep, her head resting against his chest.
Hades leaned back, gazing at the flas.
It had been centuries since he had monts like this, no battles, no negotiations, no urgent summons from gods or mortals.
Just... peace and quiet.
His hand rested lightly on Nekyria’s back, feeling the steady rhythm of her breathing.
This peace... is worth protecting, he thought.
Outside, the vast expanse of the Underworld stretched endlessly in every direction, the fortress drifting through its dark skies like an unshakable island.
For tonight, there would be no enemies, no sches, no shadows looming over them.
Only the quiet, and the warmth of the fire.
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