Chapter twenty-one
The mirror in Hade’s bedroom
Lady Persephone repeatedly struck her scepter onto the ground, and as the mist dissipated, they skidded to a halt.
In the vicinity stood a ferocious-looking hound, its three tremendously ugly heads swung in vigilance, blood ran down from its mouth, and bones lay scattered over the rusty gate. Its beady, macabre eyes bulge red, glowing faintly in the eerie darkness.
Its rough tail was pricked with spikes extending from its rear to the tip, where a venomous prickle akin to that of a scorpion protruded menacingly at them.
It was unequivocally Cerberus, the Hellhound.
Lady Persephone clapped her hands firmly, yet the hellhound disregarded her. It roared in fury, causing the ground to tremble beneath its crawling paws. Its mouth gaped wide, fangs emerging from its thin lips amidst a pool of what Elizabeth was fairly certain was saliva—dripping in filthy scarlet fluid—flowing to the ground and beyond.
It lunged forward, kicking up dirt along its path, its fangs bared, and dashed toward them.
Lady Athena, with a slight frown, raised her arrow, drew her bow, and released her shot with a bang at the hellhound. The creature ducked and skidded across the slippery ground, growing even more enraged.
It snarled, its blood-stained fangs glinting under the flickering torchlight. Lady Persephone drew her spear and charged. She thrust it toward the hellhound, aiming for its eyes, but it rolled over, causing the spear to turn over and soar back into Lady Persephone’s waiting hand.
Elizabeth drew her dagger, and as the enraged hellhound leaped into the air, Elizabeth stabbed the blade into its body. Warm blood streamed underneath it as the hellhound landed flat on top of Elizabeth.
Elizabeth trembled and collapsed to the ground.
Her dagger dropped to the ground in a clutter.
Crawling over her chest, it snarled again.
Elizabeth, trembling uncontrollably beneath the filthy beast, could feel its heavy, nasty breath puffed over her face, and blood dripping to her cheeks, sliding to the ground.
She stared, her eyes bulging as the sharp fangs twirled in front of her, and sank deep into her skin. Elizabeth could hear Lady Athena scream somewhere above her as blood trickled down her neck, dripping to the ground where a red flower blossomed over the puddle of crystal water beyond.
Excruciating pains seared over her; her entire body convulsed against the cold, hard ground as her face contorted in agony, her cheeks and neck now drenched in blood.
Agonized, Elizabeth screamed. She raised her hands shakily, trying to do something, yet the hellhound was pretty determined to get her killed once and for all. Its claws cut into Elizabeth’s forearms, and dark liquid oozed out from the deep gush. Elizabeth felt a sudden emptiness since getting bitten by a hellhound was no joke; she felt life was slipping away from her fingertips, so near yet she found it hard to stop, even to slow it down, even for a second.
Beside her, Lady Athena was striking at the hellhound, though it didn’t seem to work out. Lady Persephone had her palms aloft and was murmuring incantations Elizabeth couldn’t figure out.
She thought about how her friends, at the other side of the world, were still waiting, anxiously, for her to get back home safely; that’s all Veronica had ever wanted. Yet Elizabeth found it hard to keep herself alive, even to keep struggling; her breath was fading away, her mind went buzzing madly, consciousness was slipping away, yet she could do nothing.
No, she’d never thought her end would be like this.
And she definitely didn’t want to be eaten by Hade’s hellhound.
She could feel the venomous fangs digging into her skin, spilling more blood.
Yet when she thought things couldn’t get any better, she heard that voice again, “Hold on, my darling.” A crisp voice echoed through the depths of her soul.
Elizabeth raised her head loftily, and she could feel something making its way out of her body.
A glassy figure rose from the gush over her temple and soared overhead.
It twirled in midair ahead of her and shot out a dazzling light that knocked the hellhound over.
Both Lady Athena and Lady Persephone were momentarily startled, yet quickly regained their composure, summoning a beam of golden light that flickered over their palms and blended with the transparent figure.
Within seconds, an elegant woman took form ahead of Elizabeth, unmistakably the Goddess Freya.
Goddess Freya waved swiftly, and a bolt of lightning zapped out from her fingertips, lingered in midair, and stabbed the hellhound right in the middle.
It howled in agony, staggering backwards, and fell over onto the ground.
Elizabeth’s contorted face relaxed a bit.
She tried to hoist herself up, yet her elbow gave way.
Though drenched in blood, she drew her face into a feverish smile. Freya beamed back at her.
Suddenly, the hellhound bounced off the ground and shot toward Elizabeth, its sharp claws fell over Elizabeth’s neck, and sliced her throat.
Elizabeth’s eyes bulged, her scream was cut off as the hard crunch of her head hit the solid ground echoed within the cave, blackish blood ran down the corner of her lips, her eyes still open wide.
Lady Athena and Lady Persephone gasped; they stared. Goddess Freya twirled her wrist, and aromatic lights swirled within her palms.
Another shot of dazzling light escaped from Elizabeth’s lifeless body and hung in midair.
The ghost of Goddess Frigga emerged from the bloody mist.
She bent down, wiped the loose hair with a napkin, and pressed her lips against hers.
She then straightened up, flipped her palms over swiftly, and the dried blood that stained the ground began to rejuvenate. Blackish liquid was smeared by bright scarlet, gurgling lively on the floor, and flowed toward the gush over her chest. Reddish, fresh blood was sucked back into her body. The scarlet flower dipping into the ground was fading, and the deep cut was healing, trailing off into fair skin that once again revealed over her torn sleeves. Gradually, color returned to her cheeks, her eyelids flickered, breath returned to her body, and Elizabeth opened her eyes once again, this time, fairly alive.
She stumbled over, hoisting herself up by her elbow, and her eyes fell upon the two goddesses sitting and praying beside her.
She scrambled upwards and found herself lost for words.
“Thanks.” She whispered faintly.
“It's Goddess Frigga, in the name of the Styx.” Replied Lady Persephone briskly.
They walked past the hellhound’s body and entered the Underworld.
Narrow pathways illuminated by flickering torchlights directed them toward the interior. A dark lake encircled the inner cave, boiling with a murky liquid, while blackish mists hung in the air, and the Styx’s waters circled the Underworld. Not far away, Charon the Ferryman, stood by his ragged boat at the Styx’s edge, clutching bags of gold and silver. Countless ghost-beggars lingered within the cave, their silvery shadows shimmering faintly. Stalactites and stalagmites shimmered overhead, and dark silhouettes of various objects flickered and fluttered across the river. Lady Persephone handed Charon a bag of gold, which she had retrieved from her pockets.
Elizabeth noticed Charon was a centaur, with its hind legs tapping the ground, its horse body glistened in the darkness.
Swishing its tail, Charon let them onto the boat.
The boat floated across the peaceful surface of the Styx, the moonlit stones sparkled along the edges, and only the splashes of the paddles were audible.
Elizabeth suddenly found her eyes drawn to the shiny ripples across the Styx. She bent over and lowered her finger to the surface. It felt thick and sticky, darkish liquids wrapped around her fingers as if alive, which Elizabeth spent minutes frantically trying to free her hands.
Luckily, Lady Persephone came over to check what was going on. Upon seeing this, she sprinkled some powder over the liquid, and it loosened the grip on Elizabeth’s finger.
“The Styx need fresh blood to keep on flowing; you don’t come over and give it a temptation.” Lady Athena cut in, stroking Elizabeth’s hair tenderly.
Suddenly, the boat gave a tremendous yank and pulled over to the other end.
Charon climbed out of the boat and spun on his heels. Gently, he gave his hands to the goddesses and helped them to disembark.
He then clutched the paddle with a sudden, fierce intensity, tilting the boat as if it were a fragile leaf caught in a tempest, sending it precariously to one side.
In an instant, Elizabeth was cast into the deep, treacherous waters of the Styx in an instant. Choking mist raised above the water, enveloping her like a shroud, blurring her vision.
Panic coursed through her veins. as she realized the peril she faced—the thick, murky liquid twisted and writhed, curled around, cocooning her in its sinister embrace. Frantically, she thrashed her arms, paddling through the liquid, desperate to reach the distant glimmer of the shoreline that seemed to shimmer like a mirage.
Yet, as if a noose, the shadowy waters tightened around her neck with each desperate stroke, gripped her with force and dragging her deeper into their darkened abyss. Each gagging breath became difficult as the water gushed into her lungs, cutting off her air, and her vision blurred as blood rushed to her head.
The shimmering liquid contorted and twisted, gradually morphing into the fearsome monster Scylla.
At first glance, she may have appeared as an alluring woman—her delicate features framed by cascading locks of hair that glimmered like spun gold under the dim light. Her mesmerizing eyes sparkled with an allure that belied the danger lurking beneath the surface. However, the illusion was shattered below her waist, where instead of graceful legs, six fierce dogs roared to life, their snarls a chilling symphony of menace.
Each beast was sinewy, their coats were matted and wild, muscles rippling beneath the surface as they snarled menacingly, their fur bristling with primal energy, while focused eyes glinted ominously in the light. The air filled with a cacophony of barks and growls, sharp teeth flashing like daggers, ready to unleash chaos at their mistress's command.
They charged toward Elizabeth, the dogs roared in delight, their teeth tearing her body, tasting the fresh blood, and licking at the flesh.
Elizabeth stumbled forward, her heart racing as she pierced the heavy air with her dagger, aiming at the woman before her, her dagger gleaming faintly in the dim light. The blade went right through the Scylla’s body as if emerging from clear mist, and flew back into her hands.
But in an instant, the dark, swirling liquid around her erupted into a chaotic twist, shifting and roiling as it birthed the dreaded figure of Charybdis.
The colossal beast loomed ahead, spinning in a frenzied dance just inches from her, its cavernous mouth gaping wide, in it was an abyss, lined with a forest of razor-sharp teeth that glistened ominously, stained with the remnants of blood and flesh.
The long, slick tongue within writhed grotesquely, shimmering sharp teeth bestowed along the surface, dribbling with a foul, viscous substance, the stench of decay wafting through the air—a nauseating reminder of the many lives it had claimed.
Panic gripped Elizabeth as the liquid tightened its grip, drawing her toward the gaping maw filled with death. The dread of being devoured again chilled her to the core; death was not an option she was willing to face once more.
With instinct kicking in, she drove her dagger into the swirling chaos, feeling the liquid’s grasp around her waist weaken ever so slightly.
Summoning every ounce of strength, she fought against the darkness, kicking and thrashing her way toward the shore. The sharp teeth sank mercilessly into her forearms, and she felt a fluid warmness drenched over her body, just seconds before excruciating pain struck her. Her head swung in dizziness, blood soaking her shirt, it was hard for her to stay calm.
Just when she thought she would be lost to the depths, Lady Persephone appeared, her strong hands clasping Elizabeth's arm and yanking her from the clutches of the treacherous river.
Breathless and shaking, Elizabeth threw a glance back, her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum.
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Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched in awe as the monstrous form of Charybdis began to dissolve, its terrifying visage melting into the River Styx like a dark illusion evaporating at dawn. The swirling chaos transformed into mere ripples, leaving behind only a chaotic splash of liquid that vanished into the depths.
Elizabeth lay near shore, below the waist, now shown as a blur of flesh and blood.
She touched her bloody legs. Suddenly, from the point where her fingertips touched, the oozing blood drained off, the reddish flesh rose overhead and dissolved into thin air, and new skin regenerated across her legs, strength glided into her body, and her consciousness slid back. Fully rejuvenated, she straightened up by her elbow shakily.
And out of the corner of her eyes, she stared at Charon, and welled up with hatred.
With newfound vigor, she was prepared to strike the centaur, sending him flying across the lake with a hard crash—and she did just that.
After dispatching Charon, they proceeded further inward. Lady Persephone led them to Hades’ chamber and snapped her fingers to extinguish the light. Unexpectedly, an iridescent glow emanated and swirled from the obsidian chandelier overhead, forming shimmering shapes in midair. Lady Persephone snapped her fingers again, sending a lightning bolt crackling from her fingertips that struck through the swirling lights. An earsplitting explosion echoed across the room, bouncing from wall to wall, and amidst the mist, a glistening mirror emerged.
Lady Persephone knocked three times on the mirror’s surface, causing it to tremble.
“In you go,” she said with a smile.
Grabbing Elizabeth’s hands, Lady Athena touched the mirror’s surface. It wobbled, sending ripples across the surface; her entire hands went through the melting glass, and she drew Elizabeth inside with her.
Elizabeth felt as if ascending through a pool of sticky honey, yet she was, at least, safe and sound this time.
Lady Athena suddenly hardened the grip on Elizabeth’s hands, and a wild gust whipped them on the cheek as they ascended.
Opening her eyes tentatively, Elizabeth found herself floating above an ancient building.
“Follow me, Dolores.” Whispered Lady Athena as they tilted over and descended through the layers of clouds.
Together, they landed quietly in the doorway of a large palace, which Elizabeth recognized at once as the Ethereal House, only much grander.
"Why do you call me Dolores?" asked Elizabeth gingerly, looking up.
"With so much evidence you've seen, don't you realize the true identity that you have questioned for so long? Yes, my dear, from that day you travel through Yggdrasil, you should've known you're special. You are the daughter of Joanna the Great; you are Dolores the Evil." Whispered Athena excitedly, rubbing her hands together, sparks flying from her fingertips.
"Now that we've journeyed through time, let’s delve into your past,” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement.
Elizabeth pivoted on her heels, her gaze sweeping the surroundings. A sprawling palace loomed nearby, its towering spires piercing the heavens, glinting with brilliant hues as they caught the sunlight filtering through the wispy clouds. Beside the grand gate, a serene lagoon stretched out, its surface dotted with ethereal mists that danced gracefully in the golden light.
“Long ago, a powerful figure known as the Dark Lord came to the magical land of Alfheim as the first Nonblender.
The ancient lore of Alfheim spoke of an extraordinary legacy: the children of the two distinct species intertwined within its borders were said to possess the ability to metamorphose into the very essence leading to immortality, which the Dark Lord desperately wanted.
The Dark Lord summoned Joanna, the strongest soulblender, seeing her as key to his plans. He forced her into a marriage that felt like a trap. Joanna recorded her struggles in a diary, hiding it in a remote place buried in sands, hoping only brave adventurers would find it.
As the Dark Lord's plans for immortality took shape, an unexpected event occurred—something that didn't happen often, but it certainly threw a wrench in his plans.”
With a snap of her fingers, the towering gates of the palace creaked open with a haunting elegance.
As they strode through the lushly manicured gardens and entered the palace, their eyes widened in awe at the breathtaking beauty surrounding them. The halls were adorned with a stunning array of shimmering silver artworks and intricate golden murals that captured the eye and sparkled under the soft glow of the ornate chandeliers.
In the opulent Grand Hall, beneath the dazzling crystal fixtures, they caught sight of a formidable man meticulously grooming his hair at a grand mirror—someone Elizabeth recognized from a haunting portrait she had once viewed.
Behind him, an aged man knelt on the ornate marble floor, his face etched with worry.
The Dark Lord, still facing the mirror, spoke with a disquieting calmness, "What news do you bring?"
The old man hesitated, a wicked glint in his eye, before responding, "My lord, I come bearing a prophecy. It is unlikely to bring you joy."
He paused dramatically, the tension thickening in the air as he prepared to reveal the portentous words that could change everything.
"Traitors lurk deep within your vast domain,
The one you love shall leave and not remain.
Two cast to Ginnunga’s blackest night,
Six babes shall live to end your cursed plight.
What you most crave shall slip from your cold hand,
Years hence they clash in blood across the land.
Three strive for crowns, to rule and to enthral,
Two fight for faith, their loyal hearts enthrall.
From raging fire the strongest shall awake,
The last, the boldest, where the cold winds shake.
She shall descend with fury, fire, and wrath,
And burn your realm to ash and desolate path.”
Then, with a bang, before the Dark Lord could have him ordered killed, the old man disappeared.
With a graceful flick of her wrist, Athena summoned an unseen force, and Elizabeth felt herself almost lifted from her feet. The air around her seemed to shimmer with energy as she was pulled through the threshold of the heavy oak door. It swung shut behind them with a resounding bang, the sound echoing through the stillness of the corridor like a clap of thunder, leaving no trace of their presence in the dimly lit space.
“What was the secret plan you’ve mentioned before?” Elizabeth whispered softly over Lady Athena, bending down to examine the decorations curved on the gate.
“He wants to be immortal.” Replied Lady Athena, brushing her hair over her shoulder, and swaying in the wind.
Elizabeth had her eyes fixed upon Athena, staring at her as if she were some sophisticated elder who understood all the concepts in this madly crazy world.
Amused, Lady Athena laughed and stroked Elizabeth’s hair, velvety as she continued,
“Time was slipping away, and the Dark Lord couldn't afford any obstacles. He swiftly got rid of Joanna, ensuring she could never disrupt his sinister designs, and whisked away his children.
But fate was on your side, and you and your siblings managed to escape from his clutches. That had sent the Dark Lord into a fury; he could not allow you to grow strong enough to join the soulblenders in their fight against him. The very existence of the prophecy filled him with such loathing that he would stop at nothing to see you destroyed—”
Elizabeth looked up with her misty eyes and asked in a quivering voice,
“What had happened to us?”
Athena sighed and patted Elizabeth on the shoulder, "No one truly knows, my dear. All I can say is that they were unable to save you that fateful night during the storm, and that missed opportunity led to your suffering.
It's up to you to find out the truth.”
A flicker of disappointment crossed Elizabeth's face as she turned to leave, her brows furrowing slightly. With a graceful motion, she spread her expansive eagle wings wide, each feather intricately patterned and shimmering like rich mahogany under the sun’s warm rays. The gentle breeze rustled through her wings, whispering secrets of the open sky.
Gathering her strength, she readied herself, longing to break free and soar high above the world below, where the clouds danced and the horizon stretched endlessly.
But Lady Athena yelled anxiously after her,
“Wait, there’s something else I wanna show you, another secret, a very dark secret—”
Elizabeth skidded to a standstill, glancing back, and stared into Lady Athena’s eyes.
She nodded curtly.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Elizabeth spun around, her heart pounding like a war drum.
Athena, with eyes wide and intent, grasped her hand firmly, and together they dashed around the dilapidated corner into a dimly lit corridor. At the end of this passage stood a weathered wooden door, ominously creaking ajar as if beckoning them inside.
As they crossed the threshold, a torrent of fragmented memories surged through Elizabeth’s mind, sharp and vivid—the harrowing echoes of distant screams, the electric crackle that hung in the air like a storm cloud, and the frantic sound of footsteps racing through dark corridors.
Recognition struck her like a bolt of lightning; this was the fabled stronghold of the Evil Scarlet, a notorious prison designed to break the spirits of Enemy Spies, a place she had hoped to forget.
"Evil Scarlet is far more than a feared name,” Athena began, her voice steady but laced with a palpable urgency, each word dripping with gravity.
“It is a malevolent faction that ensnares all nonblenders, forging an army composed of mindless enforcers—the ferocious pawns of the merciless Fairy Lord.”
She paused momentarily, scanning their surroundings, as if the very walls might eavesdrop on their conversation.
Her voice took on an ominous tone as she elaborated,
“Told ya The Dark Lord wants immortality. He needed his blood child's essence and the Interstellar Crown to achieve it. Odin aided him in exchange for control over Grekheim, creating a dark alliance.”
"What?" Elizabeth gasped, her disbelief palpable, her voice echoing off the damp stone walls.
“Odin? The same one who sent us on this perilous quest? He’s been pulling the strings behind the scenes, setting us up for death one by one?”
“Indeed," Athena affirmed, her brow furrowing with concern.
As despair settled heavily on Elizabeth’s shoulders, she felt the oppressive weight of realization crush her spirit. A deep, anguished sigh escaped her lips. How could she have navigated the perilous trails fraught with hidden dangers, battled fiercely against overwhelming odds, and endured the heartbreaking loss of her beloved companion Veronica, only to come to the devastating realization that all her sacrifices had been in vain?
Each battle fought felt like a futile stroke against an unyielding tide, and the memories of their joyous moments now felt like fragile glass, shattered and scattered across the floor of her heart. In that haunting silence, as the weight of sorrow enveloped her, she found herself drowning in a well of melancholic reflection, each tear a testament to dreams shattered and the love that once gave her strength. The realization coursed through her like icy fingers, leaving her questioning the very meaning of her struggles.
It was a cruel, elaborate charade—a manipulation designed to train her as nothing more than a pawn in their grand strategy for victory. Would they discard her like yesterday’s news the moment she ceased to hold any utility? And have her killed afterwards when she had lost her values to them, as Morris had endured?
She and Lucius stood in silence, the weight of the night pressing against them like a shroud. Finally, as the jars filled with the dark substance, Lucius snapped his fingers, and the candles extinguished in a collective sigh.
“Head over to Datura’s office and dive into her folders—”
“You’ll see. They’re cheating you; you don’t understand. They are using you—the Fairy Lord, he’s—well—” He hesitated, uncertainty flickering in his eyes before he spat out, “Also, don’t forget to check out the legacy of that crown. Goodnight,” and vanished into the shadows without another word.
As Elizabeth sat there, lost in thought, it struck her hard: all those damn tragedies weren’t just life’s little bumps. They were personal hits, like a punch to the gut. Just then, she felt Athena's soft hand on her back, a gentle nudge of comfort that flickered a tiny spark of hope.
“Hey, I get it,” Athena said, leaning in close, her voice low but fierce.
“I know the weight you’re carrying is heavier than you think. But that’s exactly what they want— to break you apart, piece by piece. Don’t give them that satisfaction, alright? You gotta fight, not just for yourself, but for your people. They’re going through hell right now, and you need to keep that in mind.”
Elizabeth glanced around the dim room, feeling the heaviness in the air. Athena’s face turned serious, like she was digging for the right words in the shadows.
“You’ve been through so much; it’s easy to forget what’s going down back in Alfheim. There’s a storm brewing over your home, and inside you, there’s this amazing power—people would do anything to get their hands on it.”
“Girl, you’ve got guts and strength running through your veins,” Athena went on. “You’re one of the toughest soulblenders kicking around. The only ones who might take you on are Odin and that Dark Lord.” But even with all that power, Elizabeth felt the heavy ache of her kin’s suffering. They were living through hell—every single day. They needed her to step up now more than ever. “You’ve slipped out from under their grip, but don’t forget those still tucked away in the shadows. They’re clinging to hope. Your powers mean something, you know?” “Stay strong for your tribe. Don’t let that Fairy Lord’s dark cloud swallow them whole. Keep fighting for everything you love. You're their light in this dark mess, and you’re the only one who can turn the tide against this creeping darkness.” Each word out of Athena’s mouth hit Elizabeth square in the heart, resonating deep within her soul.
And inside, a daring, brave soul was sprouting.
Before she could say anything, Lady Athena disappeared in a flash of golden light.
Suddenly, the ground shook, and the images in front of them tumbled.
Elizabeth’s vision blurred, the Ethereal House melted in midair, and she was being dragged upwards.
She was drew back to the hard floor in Lord Hades’s bedroom just before the images ahead of her shattered.
Elizabeth spun around sharply on her heels, her heart racing, only to find Lord Hades fixed intently on her with an expression that could curdle milk.
Before her, Lady Persephone knelt on the ground, a picture of grace even in her submissive posture, yet the tension in the air hinted that things were about to take a turn for the worse.
“What in the names of the Styx are you doing here, and using my Mirror of the Past without my permission?” Lord Hades bellowed, his voice reverberating through the chamber as he stormed forward, an aura of danger radiating from him. The cold steel of his sword glinted ominously, its tip hovering perilously close to Elizabeth’s throat, promising violence.
“Hades,” Lady Persephone murmured softly from behind him, her voice barely rising above a whisper, but her presence was overshadowed by the imminent threat. The sharp edge of the sword pressed against Elizabeth's skin, a warning that was both terrifying and all too real when, just as suddenly, a mellifluous voice cut through the charged atmosphere.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Lady Aphrodite’s voice cleared the tension like a summer storm dispersing clouds. Elizabeth glanced to the side, her eyes widening as the goddess of love approached, her golden locks flowing like liquid sunlight behind her.
“Hades, this heroine is the one who unsealed our world. She saved us from your grasp, and yet you dare to threaten her with your monsters?” Lady Aphrodite exclaimed, her tone filled with both authority and indignation.
“Drop your sword!” Lord Hades’s expression twisted as if he had just swallowed a mouthful of ash, fury mingling with confusion. His furious glare locked onto Elizabeth, as if weighing her worth against the indignation bubbling inside him.
“Okay, just this time, go,” Hades muttered under his breath, his anger dulled as he slowly withdrew his blade, the edge of which had begun to bite into Elizabeth’s skin.
“What about Lady Persephone?” Elizabeth asked tentatively, concern creeping into her voice. “You’re not punishing her?”
“Just this time, little tyke,” he replied grimly, the lines of his face softening ever so slightly, hinting at some hidden remorse. A smile broke out on Lady Aphrodite’s face, bright and reassuring.
“Thanks. I may just send you back.”
She grasped Elizabeth's shoulders gently but then, with surprising force, she propelled her toward the swirling waters of the Styx. Before Elizabeth could utter a single word of protest or gratitude, she found herself hurtling toward the shimmering surface.
In an instant, with a thunderous boom that echoed through her very bones, she was thrust back onto solid ground. The ominous door to Grekheim vanished as if it were made of mist, dissipating into thin air. Stumbling slightly, Elizabeth regained her footing and looked down to find a golden key nestled in the dirt near her boots. She could feel her hands trembling as she reached down to pick it up, brushing away the specks of earth that clung to its gleaming surface. Two words were intricately carved into the metal, ‘Glacier Peninsula.’
Just below her, a crumpled piece of paper caught her eye. She snatched it up, heart racing as she read it out loud to the shadows that seemed to creep closer, hanging on her every word.
"Hey, everyone, I’m really sorry for the trouble I caused you all, especially to those who had my back. I let you down. I didn’t make it through... But you guys are amazing—your beauty, strength, resilience, it’s all beyond what you even realize. Here’s the key to my mansion. Consider it a little gift for sticking with me. I hope you’re the happiest you’ve ever been. I'm so sorry."
It was unmistakably Veronica's handwriting. That familiar loop of her letters made Elizabeth’s chest tighten. How could Veronica be apologizing for leaving? After everything she’d been through?
Emily nudged her gently, mouthing, "Elizabeth, we need to move on." With a heavy sigh, Elizabeth pushed herself to her feet. She took a deep breath, feeling the energy around her pulse like a storm. The earth near Veronica's body responded to her, the soil shifting and rising up as if cradling her friend one last time. The wind picked up, a wild howling that echoed their sorrow, and before they knew it, Veronica de Angelo was gently sinking into the ground, enveloped like a fragile treasure. Tears streamed down Elizabeth's face as the fresh, rich scent of earth filled the air, grounding her in the moment. She raised her hands, and blossoms began to spring up around where Veronica lay, glowing softly in the fading light. Each flower felt like a whispered promise as they sprung up, almost as if they were honoring her brave spirit.
"For my bravest friend," they murmured together, the words hitching in their throats.
Holding that golden key like it was the very last slice of pizza, Elizabeth yanked the teleport door open. In a split second, they were gone, just like that.