Chapter 5
Aletheia's POV
The light hit me like a physical blow.
I'd forgotten how bright it was here. How the divine radiance seemed to come from everywhere at once—the sky, the buildings, even the ground beneath my feet. In Cocytus, there had been only darkness and ice. My eyes had adjusted to that. Learned to see in the absence of light.
Now, surrounded by Olympus's eternal day, I felt like I was being stabbed through the pupils.
And it wasn't just my eyes. My skin was starting to prickle. Not quite pain yet, but the warning of it. Like standing too close to a fire.
Ten years of Underworld law had changed me. My body had adapted to darkness, to cold, to the absence of divine energy. Now, surrounded by sacred light, I was rejecting it. Or it was rejecting me.
I pulled my sleeves down further and started walking, keeping my head down. A divine servant was waiting near the entrance.
"Miss," she began. "Lord Helios has assigned you quarters. Please follow me."
We walked through the estate in silence. I kept my gaze on the ground, watching the servant's feet instead of looking around. But I couldn't help noticing the changes.
The estate looked the same, but different. Cleaner, maybe. More polished. Like someone had scrubbed away any trace of imperfection.
We passed the central courtyard, and I caught a glimpse of the golden laurel tree. The family's sacred symbol. Father had explained that it needed to be nourished with Dawn blood to bloom.
Now it was covered in golden blossoms. But not during the period when I fed it.
I looked away.
The servant led me to the western edge of the estate. The furthest point from the main halls. From the family quarters. From anywhere that mattered.
"Here," she said, stopping in front of a small pavilion.
It was surrounded by high walls that blocked most of the light. Dead vines covered the entrance—withered things that crackled when I pushed through them. Inside, the rooms were bare. Stone floors. Simple furniture. A few candles instead of divine light crystals.
It looked like a servant's quarters. Or a prison with better furniture.
"The Withered Vine Pavilion," the servant said quietly. "Lord Helios said... said it would be more comfortable for you. Since you... since the light..."
She trailed off, embarrassed.
I understood. They'd put me somewhere dark because I couldn't handle the sacred radiance anymore. Somewhere I wouldn't be seen. Somewhere I could be forgotten.
"Fine," I said.
The servant bowed quickly and fled.
I stood in the empty room, looking around. This was it. My place in the family now. Hidden away in the shadows like something shameful.
I should have felt angry. Humiliated.
Instead, I just felt tired.
And honestly? The darkness was a relief. My skin had stopped prickling. My eyes could finally relax.
I walked to the simple bed and sat down. The mattress was thin, nothing like the cloud-soft luxury I'd grown up with. But it was better than the frozen ground of Cocytus.
I lay back and stared at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, I'd see Grandmother again. Spend what time I could with her before she slept.
And then...
My hand found the passage token she'd given me, still tucked in my pocket. Warm. Waiting.
And then I'd leave.
The next morning, I woke to silence. No shouting. No footsteps outside. Just the quiet darkness of the Withered Vine Pavilion.
I looked at the prison rags I was wearing. Grey, rough, carrying the chill of the River of Lamentation. This was what I'd worn for ten years in Cocytus, proof of my suffering.
But I couldn't keep wearing it. Couldn't let Grandmother see me in it and cry again.
I pushed open the door and found the divine servant from yesterday in the hallway.
"Miss." She kept her head down.
"I need clothes," I said calmly. "Something plain. The kind you servants wear."
She looked up, confusion flashing in her eyes. "But... the divine robe Lord Helios sent—"
"I can't wear it." I cut her off without explaining. "Get me a simple linen robe. Something plain."
She hesitated, then nodded quickly. "I... I'll get one right away. Please wait."
She hurried off and returned a few minutes later with a folded garment. A simple robe, beige linen, no decoration. The kind servants wore for work.
"This is it," she said, her hands trembling as she handed it to me. "This is... this is what we usually wear. If you don't like it, I can—"
"It's fine." I took the clothes. The fabric was rough but clean, and most importantly, it wasn't saturated with divine energy. "Thank you."
She froze, as if she hadn't expected me to thank her. Then she bowed deeply and hurried away.
I went back to my room, took off the prison rags, and put on the linen robe. It was a bit big, the sleeves too long, but comfortable. No burning. No stinging. Just ordinary fabric against ordinary skin.
I looked at the prison rags on the floor. Ten years of torture soaked into those fibers. Bloodstains, frost, despair.
I should throw it away. Burn it. Let it disappear with those memories.
But my hands didn't move.
Finally, I folded it and placed it in the corner of the room. Not because I wanted to keep it. Just because... I didn't know what to do with it yet.
I pulled down the sleeves of my new robe, making sure they covered the scars on my arms, then pushed open the door.
The path from the western edge of the estate to Rhea's sanctuary cut straight through the central courtyard.
Through the golden laurel tree.
I tried not to look at it. Tried to keep my eyes on the ground, my pace steady.
But I couldn't help it. My gaze lifted, and there it was.
The tree stood in the center of the courtyard like a monument. Every branch was heavy with golden blossoms, their light so bright it hurt to look at directly. The air around it shimmered with divine energy, and I could smell the sweet scent of the flowers even from here.
I stopped walking without meaning to.
I forced myself to start walking again, but my feet carried me closer to the tree instead of past it. Like they had a will of their own.
When I was close enough to touch, I stopped. Reached out slowly.
The moment I made contact with a golden petal, warmth flooded through me.
Not the burning heat of divine light that hurt. This was different. Gentle. Familiar. Like sunlight on skin, like the first warm day after a long winter.
I gasped, my hand freezing in place.
The flower I'd touched grew brighter. And the branch it grew from shifted, curling toward me like it recognized my touch.
Before I could pull away, a thin vine wrapped around my wrist. Gentle. Almost affectionate. It brushed against my scarred skin with a tenderness that made my chest ache.
More vines reached toward me. They moved slowly, carefully, like they were afraid I'd run. They touched my arms, my shoulders, swaying around me like they were trying to comfort me.
Why?
The question burned in my mind. It had never responded to me before. Never bloomed during the period when I fed it.
And now, after everything, after I'd been proven mortal and cast out and broken—now it was reaching for me like I mattered.
I stood very still, the vines continuing their gentle exploration.
It doesn't make sense, I thought. I have no divine power. The Testing Basin proved that. So why—
But I cut the thought off before it could finish. Shook my head sharply.
It doesn't matter. None of it matters.
I was leaving. Grandmother was still waiting for me. Whatever mysteries surrounded this tree, whatever questions remained unanswered—they could stay that way.
I wasn't part of this family anymore. Wasn't part of their story.
I pulled my hand back, and the vines released me immediately. But they didn't retreat all the way. They swayed in place, as if waiting. As if hoping I'd change my mind.
I turned and started walking toward the path that led to Rhea's sanctuary.
"Aletheia?"
The voice stopped me cold.
I turned slowly.
