The scent of incense drifted softly through the imperial villa—frankincense and warm sandalwood to calm the air. Outside the chambers, guards stood silent, gold-plated helms gleaming beneath the torchlight. The sun had long set, but the palace remained awake.
Emperor Helios entered without a retinue.
He was wheeled forward in his intricately carved chair of whitewood and bronze, his crimson cloak trailing behind like a dying flame. The golden circlet sat upon his silver-streaked hair, and the once-proud warrior now bore his age with a dignity untouched by pity.
He said nothing upon entering. He didn't need to.
Luciana, propped gently against her pillows, turned her head toward him. Erebus stood beside her with Ra'el in his arms, the child now bundled in a finer linen wrap, cheeks warm and flushed from his first full sleep.
Helios looked upon his daughter first.
Her pale skin was still tired, her hair loosely braided, a few strands stuck to her brow. But her face bore an expression no one had seen in months—one of deep, weary peace.
Then his gaze turned to Erebus.
The two men—sun and void—exchanged a silent acknowledgment. No glares. No spoken claims of dominance. Only the mutual exhaustion of protectors who had survived what others would not.
"May I?" Helios asked, his voice softer than usual.
Erebus blinked once, then bent slightly and extended the newborn carefully into his grandfather's arms.
Helios received Ra'el without ceremony. His hands trembled faintly, but his grip was sure. He stared down at the tiny boy whose white hair glowed faintly even in the lamplight, and whose ears bore the unmistakable trait of Erebus' bloodline.
"His soul is whole," Helios murmured after a pause. "He carries no curse. No fracture. Only duality."
Luciana lowered her gaze, eyes wet. "He didn't cry much. He just looked at me… like he already knew who I was."
Helios smiled faintly—deeply lined and short-lived, but genuine.
"Then he already knows what many never learn: who matters most."
He looked once more at Ra'el's small face. "This child is proof of what we dared not name. That fire and void, day and dusk, can share blood."
Then, with more effort than he showed, he reached out and placed Ra'el back into Erebus' arms.
"Guard him well. The world may not know what he is. But it will watch him all the same."
Erebus nodded his head slowly. "I will. Always."
Helios turned his chair back toward the door but stopped as he passed Luciana. He gently took her hand in his, his thumb pressing softly into her knuckles.
"My starlight… you've endured what most queens could not." His voice dropped to a whisper. "And you've given Olympus a legacy beyond gold or conquest."
He let go.
And just like that, the Emperor of Amanécer wheeled himself into the hallway and left the family in silence.
The villa remained in silence save for the occasional flicker of a torch and the low hum of a lullaby from a distant maid. Outside, Olympus was calm—but within the high chamber, a new light had arrived.
Luciana sat upright now, her back supported by cushions, a gentle warmth in her cheeks after some hours of rest. Ra'el nestled at her side in a woven basket, swaddled in soft linen. His white hair curled against his forehead. His tiny chest rose and fell with rhythmic softness.
The door creaked open.
Augusta entered first, her brows furrowed, arms full.
Hades was sobbing, his little face red, his arms reaching blindly forward. As soon as he saw the bed—his mother's outline, her voice, her scent—he began to wriggle fiercely against Augusta's hold.
"Mama… mmm-mamaaa…"
"Hades…" Luciana's voice caught in her throat.
Augusta carefully handed him to Luciana and as she opened her arms just in time.
He collapsed into her chest, little fists grabbing at her robe as if she might disappear again.
She held him tightly, pressing her cheek against his silky hair, rocking gently.
"My sweet star, I'm here… I'm here now…"
He wailed softly, his cries broken by gasping hiccups. But he didn't let go. Her scent, her voice, her warmth—it was all he had needed for days. His whole world realigned in her arms.
"Mmm-mmm…" Hades tried to form something, his mouth moving again and again between sobs.
Luciana pulled back slightly, brushing the hair from his eyes.
"What is it, darling?"
"D-da…" Hades' lips trembled, then furrowed again. "D-daaa…"
Her eyes glistened. She looked to Erebus, who just came out of the bath nearby, unmoving, expression unreadable—but his hand clenched faintly at the sound as his eyes met his first-born's.
Luciana whispered, "He's here too, little one. Your father."
Hades turned his head slowly. Tear-streaked eyes met Erebus'. For a moment, he hesitated.
Then lifted a trembling hand toward him.
"Da...da."
The word came out raw and broken. But it was there.
Erebus knelt slowly beside the bed, unsure, uncertain. He reached forward—and Hades crawled into his arms.
It wasn't graceful.
It wasn't immediate.
But the boy buried his head into Erebus' chest, sniffling quietly.
And Erebus held him.
Held him like he'd held the weight of the empire. Like this was the only thing that mattered anymore.
"I'm here," Erebus murmured, low and rough. "You don't have to cry anymore."
Behind Them
A step faltered.
Nemesis stood frozen in the doorway, fists clenched at his sides.
His eyes were misty, though he tried to blink it away. He'd cried enough already—when the doors shut on Luciana, when Hades sobbed through the night, when Melody tried and failed to comfort him.
But now, seeing his mother whole, seeing his brother in his father's arms…
His composure broke.
He rushed forward and threw his arms around both his parents at once—tight, trembling, burying his face into Luciana's side and Erebus' shoulder.
Luciana gasped softly, wrapping her arm around him as she held both sons close.
"You're safe," Nemesis choked. "I thought—when I heard you screaming—"
"I know," Luciana whispered, pressing her lips to his temple. "But you were brave."
"I didn't feel brave," he admitted.
"You were," Erebus said quietly, one hand resting protectively behind Nemesis' head. "You held the line."
The three stayed like that—folded into each other, breaths uneven, but hearts whole.
Then—
A soft whimper.
Nemesis stiffened.
He pulled back and looked to the side—toward the woven basket resting at the bed's edge.
A pair of deep raven eyes blinked up at him.
Nemesis stared.
Ra'el's tiny mouth moved. His ears—curved and pointed like Erebus', though softer in contour—twitched at the noise of their voices. A lock of snow-white hair fluttered across his brow.
Nemesis didn't speak at first.
He stepped forward slowly, the room holding its breath.
Luciana smiled faintly. "Your baby brother."
Nemesis knelt beside the basket, eyes wide, arms resting on the edge.
"He's… small," he whispered.
"He'll grow," Erebus said gently, still holding Hades close.
Nemesis leaned a little closer.
Ra'el blinked again—and for a moment, their eyes locked.
Not as strangers.
Not even as siblings.
But as something inevitable.
Nemesis whispered, "Hi."
Ra'el yawned.
Nemesis looked over his shoulder at his parents.
"Is he going to stay?"
Luciana nodded, her voice soft but certain. "He was born to."
Nemesis' face was replaced from sorry to delight he told Hades about Ra'el.
The little toddler tried to imitate his older brother as Nemesis tried to get him to pronounce their little brother's name.
"It's Ra~ el!" He mouth.
And Hades followed clumsily.
"Aa~ eee?" Hades struggled.
Luciana broke into soft laughter.
"Go easy on him Nemesis. He's still too young to speak properly." Luciana advised him.
"But he can call you and Dade too!" Nemesis said confidently.
Erebus raised him and placed him on his shoulders startling Nemesis.
" You're just too intelligent little one." Erebus chuckled.
"Dade I'm not little anymore! I'm once again a big older brother." Nemesis argued.
"Yes yes, you must promise me to protect them all the time,"
"Nemesis will!" He puffed up trying to look like a brave knight.
The room was engulfed in warmth of a family joined together after months of longing.
Hades wanted to have his turn next to ride on Erebus' shoulders.
Erebus lifted him up too. Luciana worried that Erebus being wounded from his mission could worsen his injuries.
"Alright boys. It time for sleep. Let your father rest too." She said.
But Nemesis groaned not wanting to leave. And Hades imitated his faces.
"You can show your father your wings in the morning," Luciana tempted him making him eventually give up on his tantrums.
Hades wanted to sleep with them. But Augusta took the two princes leaving only Ra'el who was already asleep in his basket.
"Goodnight mama, papa!" Nemesis called before he left.
Luciana planted a kiss to both of them before they left and wished them a goodnight.