CHAPTER 161: CHAPTER 6

Persephone’s soft humming carried through the obsidian corridors, light and melodic against the somber stillness of the Underworld.

She twirled a strand of her hair idly, her steps taking her toward the gardens, where Nekyria often spent her time.

She swear, she must make Nekyria call her aunt!

One day, she’d call her mom too!

When she arrived, Persephone paused, lips curving into a smile.

Nekyria was seated cross-legged on a black marble bench, eyes wide with childlike wonder.

Before her stood a striking woman in a flowing robe of deep purple, her long bluish-violet hair cascading down her back, her sapphire eyes glimmering with a quiet confidence.

Medea.

Disciple of Hecate, one whose potential for magic eclipses anyone else in history.

When she was born, Hecate quickly found her and took her in as a disciple.

In the original myth, her tales weren’t so good.

The infamous sorceress of Colchis, she was cursed by Aphrodite to fall madly in love with Jason, causing her to even go as far as killing her brother and dismembering his body and scattering them just so she can help Jason escape.

But Jason would soon leave her for another woman, causing her to go mad and killing her sons and Jason’s new wife.

That was her original story, though here she was no longer infamous, no longer burdened by the cruel hand of fate.

With Hera—who in the original myths was the one who asked Aphrodite to curse Medea to fall in love with Jason—being an underworld goddess and severely overworked, and Aphrodite herself also on the same boat, Medea did not fall in love with Jaosn.

Although she still boarded the Argo due to Hecate wanting her to gain experience, she did not bear the same fate of killing her relatives.

Once Jason’s quest ended, Medea returned to Underworld and decided to stay here with her teacher.

Now, she stood in the garden, conjuring ethereal illusions with graceful gestures of her hands.

Wisps of purple fire danced in the air, blooming into glowing lotuses that floated serenely above Nekyria’s head.

Nekyria clapped, her laughter ringing clear, the flowers shifting into phoenixes of light that spiraled skyward.

Persephone tilted her head, watching the scene.

For a moment, a faint tug of envy pricked her—Nekyria’s delighted expression, eyes brimming with adoration, was directed entirely at Medea.

The sorceress, for her part, seemed perfectly calm, almost regal, as though this kind of praise was nothing new.

"Big Sister Persephone!" Nekyria’s voice broke her thoughts, the little one waving excitedly when she noticed her.

Persephone’s smile twitched. She really wanted to correct her again, but swallowed the words, forcing her expression to soften.

Medea turned her gaze on Persephone then, bowing her head slightly in greeting.

"Lady Persephone," she said, her voice smooth and respectful. "It is an honor."

Persephone walked closer, brushing her hair back with deliberate grace. "No need for formalities. I see you have been entertaining my ’little niece’"

"Big sis, it’s little sister. Not niece." Nekyria giggled at the phrasing, completely missing Persephone’s hidden meaning.

Medea, however, caught the subtle tension in Persephone’s tone, her blue eyes studying her carefully.

She smiled faintly, as though amused, before returning her focus to Nekyria and conjuring another spell, this time, a magnificent dragon of violet fire that coiled protectively around the garden.

Persephone lowered herself gracefully beside Nekyria, folding her gown around her like petals of a dark flower.

She reached out to tuck a loose strand of the girl’s hair behind her ear, her smile radiant but with a trace of insistence hidden beneath.

"Little one," Persephone cooed, her voice warm, "you should call me Aunt Persephone. Come on, try it, just once."

Nekyria tilted her head, blinking her wide eyes at her.

"But... Aunt Demeter is my aunt, and you’re her daughter...And!" She grinned, bright and guileless. "You feel like a big sister. Pretty and fun! So I like calling you that better."

Persephone’s smile stiffened, though she forced a laugh, light and airy.

"Sister, hm? That makes me sound far too young." She leaned closer, voice dropping, gentle yet pressing. "Aunts are wiser, more dignified... don’t you think I sound like that?"

Nekyria giggled and shook her head. "Nope! You sound like a big sister trying too hard to be an adult."

Medea, standing just a little ways off, hid her smirk behind her hand. Her blue eyes glimmered knowingly, watching the exchange unfold like an unspoken play.

Persephone, undeterred, tried another angle.

She cupped Nekyria’s cheeks softly, her gaze affectionate yet firm. "If you call me Aunt Persephone, I’ll teach you something special. A secret song of the nymphs... only nieces are allowed to learn it."

The girl’s eyes widened with interest, but then narrowed with suspicion in a way only children could manage. "That sounds like a trick."

Persephone gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "Me? Trick you? How cruel you are, little one. I only want what is proper."

"But you are my big sister," Nekyria insisted, clinging to her arm with childish stubbornness. "And I like it that way."

For the first time, Persephone’s composure cracked, her cheeks puffing slightly in frustration, though she still looked beautiful doing it.

Medea’s faint chuckle finally slipped free, making Persephone snap her gaze toward her.

"Something amusing, Medea?" she asked, her tone velvet-smooth but sharp as a dagger.

Medea lowered her eyes, bowing slightly, though the smile on her lips remained. "Not at all, my lady. Only... I see you have quite the challenge before you."

Persephone’s hand twitched.

Nekyria, oblivious to the silent tension between them, snuggled closer to Persephone and chirped, "Big Sister is the best!"

Persephone forced another radiant smile, but deep down, she swore she would find a way to make Nekyria call her aunt.

However, before she could try one more time, a cold female voice resounded.

"You seems to be having fun, daughter of mine."

The garden, once filled with laughter and the soft shimmer of Medea’s illusions, grew heavy with silence.

Persephone froze, turning her head slowly, she saw her mother, Demeter, smiling sweetly st her. Perhaps a little too sweet.

So sweet that the air itself seemed to stiffen under her sweet smile.

Persephone straightened immediately, nerves flickering across her usually radiant smile.

"M–Mother," she greeted, voice a touch too bright, "how lovely of you to join us..."

Demeter’s eyes, sharp and commanding, did not soften. "Why did you leave without permission, Persephone?"

Caught, Persephone fiddled with her gown’s hem, her smile strained. "I... only wanted to visit Uncle Hades for a little while. To... keep him company, you know."

She gave a nervous laugh, her eyes darting toward Medea and Nekyria as though seeking an ally.

Neither of them moved to defend her.

Demeter narrowed her eyes as Persephone avoided eye contact.

For awhile, the garden grew silent, until Demeter simply sighed in defeat and stepped past her daughter, before kneeling gracefully to scoop Nekyria into her arms.

The little girl laughed, wrapping her tiny arms around Demeter’s neck.

"Auntie! Miss me?"

"Oh, I do little one."

The goddess’ severe expression melted instantly into tenderness as she kissed the child’s forehead. "Ah, Nekyria. How sweet, how polite, how gentle you are. I only wish my daughter were more like you, very cute and obedient."

Persephone’s smile twitched, her brows furrowing. She crossed her arms, muttering indignantly, "I am beautiful and obedient."

Demeter’s head snapped toward her, one brow arching with matronly disdain.

"Beautiful? Yes. Obedient? If by that you mean sneaking away and dreaming of climbing into your uncle’s bed..." She let the words hang in the air, cool and cutting. "...then yes, Persephone. You’re very obedient."

Persephone’s face flushed scarlet, caught between outrage and humiliation.

"Mother!" she hissed, stomping her foot lightly against the marble path. "Don’t say such embarrassing things in front of everyone!"

Medea coughed discreetly into her hand, her lips twitching as though she were restraining a laugh.

Nekyria tilted her head, blinking innocently, then giggled. "Big Sister wants to sleep with Papa?"

Persephone’s mortification deepened as she buried her face in her hands. "No, no, no! Not like that!"

Demeter smirked faintly, her voice cool but laced with that dangerous motherly bite. "Then perhaps you should think more carefully before chasing shadows and neglecting your place."

The tension between them hung sharp as a blade, while Medea and Nekyria watched with differing amusements, the child giggling without understanding, and the sorceress silently enjoying the scene.