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Chapter Text

Augh... Melinoë had never endured the surface world for such extended periods of time. A fortunate clash of circumstances happened to ensue this evening: just as Icarus flew overhead, Dionysus offered his blessing via the fig leaf keepsake, granting the two of them a leisurely evening cruise. The legions of the dead, frankly, could hold off for a few minutes... Or, they told themselves it would be a few. Minutes turned to hours, and only came to cease because a rather impatient Strife took to surveying the fleet herself. A brief wing-measuring competition ensued, much to Mel’s chagrin, but the night’s regular course followed thusly.

Still illuminated under the moon’s soft silver glow, the usual journey up the base of Olympus proved unaffected by her little distractions. Prometheus snuck in one of his usual foresight jabs, teasing her for succumbing to temptation—the flame thief truly devoted himself to provocation. Yet Typhon’s assault on the fortress had not quickened, the forces of Chronos had not readied some stronger battle formation... The Titan’s combat intelligence clearly held a few weak spots. 

As she planted her dagger firmly within that massive red eye, blood gushing out in rivers as usual, Melinoë could not help but feel some greater light overtaking her. First assessments told her she had purely enjoyed this evening more than most. The extended stay with her favorite shade and master craftsman had been quite enjoyable, even without the amenities of the hot springs or taverna to keep them company. Thus, the budding sense of warmth. Yet... That couldn’t be it. On prior journeys, both through the Underworld and the surface, she had taken some liberal break time, devoid of any excuse beyond mere pleasure. This feeling, a comforting embrace, differed from all those other nights.

Lord Uncle can wait a minute, Mel convinced herself, eyes drifting off to the horizon as she contemplated the strange sensation. A minute would prove to be far too much time, however—the answer immediately presented itself on that far edge of Greece, rays of orange and pink emanating from below the earth and piercing through the blackened night. Oh, gods... We truly took our time in Thessaly, didn’t we?

Not wanting to keep her Olympian family wondering any longer, Melinoë felt her feet move of their own volition, not waiting for any rational thought to command her. The gates were just a short distance away, within a stone’s throw, when a voice echoed over the peak. An unfamiliar woman called out to her, and her head turned to meet their inevitable gaze... yet this stranger seemed to surround Mel on all sides, emanating from the sky itself.

“Good gods above and below, is that really you?!”

The sound of horses stood out to Melinoë amidst the shout, a rather curious accompaniment. Already a rare encounter for the princess of the dead, made all the more mystifying by their current altitude. Yet these mighty steeds rose not from the plains below, but descended from the skies above, leading a gilded chariot of marble and saffron. The goddess holding the reins, by all means a stranger, invoked a strong sense of family still—a resemblance far too uncanny to be a coincidence. Of course. The night had run its course; now, here to phase the world forward, was a future bearer of the umbral flames, prophesied lover to Moros... Rosy-fingered Dawn herself.

“Melinoë! Oh, I thought it might be forever until we could finally meet! Sister Selene waxes poetic about your devotion and blossoming strength whenever we speak, but I know too well how you silver sisters are—operating under the moon and all.” The titaness leapt from her carriage joyously, though she never quite reached the ground. Bare feet slowed to a halt above the stones of Olympus, hovering in a way not unlike what the devil sparks of Supay could cause. And just as streaks of light traced their path across the sky, beams of radiant joy seemed to emanate from Eos. “Yet here you are! Your first ever dawn, and what a view to go with it! Couldn’t have picked a better spot in all of Greece. So? What do you think, darling? Everything you dreamed and more?”

Melinoë could not answer in truth, for she did not grant herself the luxury of dreams. Perhaps an aspirational plan here or there, thoughts of life after her grandfather’s defeat... A reunion in the reclaimed House of Hades, perhaps, or more regular outings with those she held dear. No longer constrained by—well, time. Among her short list of future priorities, experiencing the dawn from such a vantage point had not once crossed her mind.

Yet the colors spilling forth, the warm kiss of the sun—a far cry from the flames beneath a cauldron, or the pooling lava of Asphodel—this blissful yet silent sensation resonated within the princess of the Underworld. Among the other luxuries in which she refused to partake, hope had become one of them. This current moment, however, proved enough to break that vow. The storm clouds had parted, leaving only beauty in their wake. A future she now desired for herself.

“I... I’d never imagined such stunning radiance before. With Chronos spreading his influence, infecting Tartarus with his visage like some decrepit plague... I’ve almost come to detest gold,” Melinoë murmured, nearly losing her grip on the sister blades as she took in the view one last time. “You... may have changed that for me, Eos. This was just one fleeting moment, but your rosy touch, the way you’ve transformed the skies... I’ll remember this. Fight for it. And, with any luck... I hope to see it again soon.”

The titaness immediately brought her hands together before her chest, squealing with delight at the poetic proclamation. “Oh, Melinoë, you little charmer, you~! If I had my way, I’d push ahead my schedule just to give you that gift once more... But I’d hate to disrespect Selene in such a way. If you’ve ever some time to spare, I’d be overjoyed to see you again; just, ah, mission first! You’re far from the slacking type, and now’s not the time to change for little old me.”

Returning to her chariot, Eos offered the princess one last wave goodbye, grinning from ear to ear as she urged her horses back into action. The dawn was fleeting, and thus was its embodiment; there one minute, gone the next. Likely, Zeus hadn’t even been made aware of her descent, save for the off chance Hermes had spotted the chariot touching down. And if her arrival happened to be a secret... It was one Melinoë felt content to keep. Just the two of them, sharing that touchless embrace of tenderness at the mountain’s peak.

... Selene would still probably hear before the next night, of course.

Chapter Text

For as long as Melinoë recalled, she had been absent from most of her family’s lives. Residing so stealthily within the boundaries of the Crossroads, there were at most ten members of this ever-extensive pantheon that knew she existed. Even among that small number, Artemis and Hermes stood as the only ones that could break that secret in the first place. Most would expect the loose-lipped messenger god to slip, but he held ever steadfast, much to the shock of Olympus at large. Melinoë’s entire youth remained bathed in secrecy, a technique the witch mastered far before her quest to slay the Titan ever began.

Now, having acquainted herself with the extended family atop Mount Olympus, the princess learned firsthand just how easily word could spread. The silence lasted for three nights at most, but whispers echoed behind closed doors—the earthshaker Poseidon was the first to reveal the rumors in circulation. “So you’ve crossed paths with rosy-fingered Eos, my niece! An elusive one, she is. But her golden glint over the tumultuous waters is second to none! I trust she hasn’t done anything to impede your aid of Olympus, else we’ll have a strong word for her!”

Though this new acquaintance could not remain a secret, that did offer Melinoë some flexibility with which to see the titaness. Longer nights on the surface—not many, just once a week or so—allowed her to share the occasional conversation with Eos, and the rare bottle of nectar as well. These rare yet delightful mornings helped to properly acquaint Dawn with the news of their current war. Sister Selene, ever the busybody between shining her natural light and aiding Melinoë, had only relayed the basic details. The Underworld half of her mission was news to Eos, and it left the two with plenty to discuss.

The unfortunate trouble of this dawning friendship, of course... was time. A frequent obstacle for Melinoë these days. Each meeting with Eos, as infrequent as they already were, could last for minutes at best. Olympus still needed her help, of course, and if she left Typhon unattended so she could dawdle on the mountain’s peak, the father of all monsters would simply climb back up and crash their party. The two needed some alternative to these fleeting mornings.

Melinoë spent days contemplating the solution, pondering just how she might find that isolated meeting spot with Eos. The surface, tragically, would not offer them any solace. And her route towards Tartarus proved infinitely worse, to the surprise of nobody. The last option, obvious as it may have seemed, was one the princess refused to consider. The Crossroads, isolated between realms as it was, did serve as shelter for those who wished to remain unseen. But Moros had aired his grievances many a time about the foretold betrothal with which the Fates had teased him. To bring Eos to the Crossroads could be seen as an attempt to fulfill this prophecy—the actions of a wingwoman, so to speak.

In time, however, the witch reasoned that this risk might be one worth taking. In the wake of this weaving of the Fates, Lord Moros had spent many evenings debating whether to resign himself to this destiny, or to embrace his current bonds while he could still treasure them. Even if he were to cross paths with Eos now, Melinoë held it in full confidence that he would keep his composure. Now, all that remained was to offer Eos the invitation, and allow the titaness to follow her back to those hallowed grounds at her own leisure.

The hours of the next night felt to pass at a snail’s pace, each ticking second echoing as entire days would. The sting of her wounds paled in comparison to the burning hole in her pocket, an invitation as regal and godly as she could muster: a bottle of ambrosia, just as she had shared with all her closest connections. The gods of Olympus, Primordial Chaos, and a select few others could not follow her to the taverna to indulge together. With any luck, Eos would prove an exception.

The tender rays of sunlight washed away the pain of tonight’s journey, anguish that had been amplified further by her vows. Ironic, to have invoked the will of night when her only concern was dawn. Watching that golden chariot descend, Melinoë felt her hand tighten around the hem of her dress, nervous energy dissipating through her ghostly fingers as Eos once more floated down—the bottle was soon displayed in all its glory, the sun’s rays reflecting through the glass in ways Melinoë could never have expected. This radiance, it truly did overwhelm her at times.

“Lady Dawn, your companionship... It has, time and time again, pierced the night to bring me warmth amidst a difficult mission. Please, accept this ambrosia as a token of my gratitude. May this drink of the gods bring you light comparable to what you bring to others.” Spoken lyrically as usual, Melinoë cloaked her affection behind those layers of sophistication, holding the bottle out for Eos to accept. Around its stopper, a note had been attached, one that charted a detailed course towards the Crossroads.

“Come now, Linnie! Your nectar’s already been quite sweet, but to have brought me ambrosia now?! You’ve truly upped your game, dear!” Eos teased in return, though she seemed to rile herself up more than anything, cheeks turning rosy with a rather visible blush. That nickname of hers—”Linnie”—its origin still made the princess laugh. Apparently, the titaness thought “Mel” or “Meli” were far too easy, and had likely already been in use. Not an incorrect assumption, given how Icarus and Dora oft referred to her. But for Eos to spend her hours brainstorming how else to turn “Melinoë” into a cute nickname... The mental image left the princess smiling every time.

“That said, I’ve been told that such a delectable drink is worth savoring not for its flavor, but for those you drink it with... And I’d hate to do that to my horses, driving inebriated and all. Is there any way we could...?” Dawn began to ask, letting her question falter as her fingertips finally brushed against that note. A squint, a gentle purse of the lips, a head tilt... 

... aaand there was the recognition Melinoë had awaited. “... oh. Oh! I see! Well, dear, it’s a date, then~! Until tonight, princess!” The bottle disappeared into her chariot, and Eos wasted no time at all grabbing the reins and returning to the skies. This urgency left Melinoë reeling, as that use of the word “date” certainly had some... charged connotations. There hadn’t been a moment to interject, but as she pivoted her focus to the fortress of the gods, she almost wondered whether she’d want to rephrase that in the first place.

Melinoë’s return to shadow, prompt as ever, did not work to lower her heart rate this time. The stillness of her tent, complete with her frog confidant, helped most nights to soothe whatever ailments might have impeded her mission. Whether that manifested in the form of severe injury, shortness of breath, or just a lingering sensation of dread, differed from night to night. This time, the only sense that plagued her was anticipation.

The wait was not long—fortunate for the Shades of the Crossroads, else the princess might have talked their ears off. The chariot of dawn touched down quickly, turning heads and stirring up attention from all sorts; only Eris and Hecate stayed back, the former being too disinterested and the latter having expected this arrival already. Questions bubbled up from all sources, but the titaness assured everyone they’d have plenty of opportunities to ask later . For now, her schedule had been thoroughly booked... and thus, the two made their way to the taverna, Eos joyfully holding up the ambrosia from before.

“Oh, Linnie. You really know how to amp up the theatrics, don’t you? Setting me up for a surprise arrival, leaving me feeling like a celebrity... And that ribbon you tied, securing the note to the bottle? Quite the handy little witch you are, hm?” Eos teased, taking a seat at a table seemingly reserved for them. Though shades occupied every other corner of this crowded taverna, this one candlelit spot sat emptier than most, waiting for the two to arrive.

“I’d... love to say that was my intent, Eos, but I truthfully just lost track of time. Balancing the nightly to-do list that comes with my mission, keeping my tent tidy, reciting any necessary incantations with Headmistress... You came sooner than even I had expected. I apologize if the sudden crowd might have been overwhelming.” Melinoë gently traced the grooves in the wooden table, translucent green fingers still unable to receive a single splinter. The embarrassment over her planning left her unable to meet Eos’s gaze initially, but a gentle hand traced along her jaw, pulling her in for closer eye contact.

“Oh, come on now. Not all plans can come along exactly as we picture them, dear. Some of the world’s most beautiful wonders are borne out of coincidence—Gaia certainly didn’t have my stunning sunrises in mind when she shaped the peak of Olympus, but what a view they make together. I’d happily thank old mother Earth for her work any day; why should you be deserving of any less?” As she spoke, Dawn slowly removed her hand from Melinoë’s chin, having just held the princess long enough to ensure that she remained at attention.

“But I... Mmh,” Melinoë began, only to bite her tongue after a few words and reconsider. Most if not all her existence thus far had been defined around careful, foolproof planning, night in and night out. Eos knew this well by now. And while the princess still found herself astonished that a plan had gone so poorly for once, further thought on the matter revealed that there hadn’t been much of a plan at all. The only driving force was excitement, bringing the two together. If any situation were to leave fair Melinoë off guard, this one served as a rather safe option. No way to fuck up a date so bad that Olympus falls. Wait. There she went again, calling this a date...

“... I-I suppose you’re right. I’d intended to truly separate this from my work—a leisurely stop for the both of us, a chance to lower our guard just a moment. But... When you truly grant yourself that luxury after so long, it’s easy for it to feel wrong. Like relaxing a muscle you’ve kept tense all day.” Some part of Melinoë wondered how well that comparison might even land with Eos. Was bringing about the break of dawn a rather arduous task? Her horses appeared unruly, but she knew very little about the equine beasts; Dawn could very well have the easiest job of the pantheon, and she would be none the wiser.

“Relaxing a muscle, hm...? Linnie, if this is your way of inviting me to those hot springs of yours, all you had to do was ask,” Eos teased, grinning ear to ear as she watched a fiery blush decorate Melinoë’s face. “But no, I understand. Even if it’s not exactly new ground you’re covering, there’s still that hint of apprehension baked into the whole process. Like... Sharing a bottle of ambrosia, after eons of waiting has made the flavor naught more than a distant memory.”

The princess attempted to keep her face somewhat neutral, astonished that Eos had spent so long without receiving a single other gift of this magnitude. Even if mortals were unable to supply such a precious substance in their offerings, that was no excuse for the rest of the extended family. What, did the view not impress them? It certainly hadn’t lost its luster the second, third, fourth visit. Not for Melinoë. 

“Eons, you say...? Well, Eos, hopefully it lives up to whatever sliver of recollection you might have. There’s certainly more to come soon—so long as you keep coming to visit here.” Melinoë twisted the stopper, letting the aroma of the bottle fill the air a moment before pouring small glasses for herself and Eos. The ambient light of the nearby candles, the radiance coming from the titaness, and the translucent orange liquid... The way they all intertwined, she felt as though she were holding a sunrise in a glass, the ambrosia having transformed to suit its recipient.

“... I’d like that, Linnie.”

As the moments passed by, blurring together in the eyes of Melinoë and Eos, the light in the Crossroads seemed to grow all-consuming. Every last detail, every asset, shining with the essence of the other. Melinoë grew intoxicated through the warm imitation of sunrise, wishing as all early-rising mortals do, that a split second could last for centuries. Fleeting beauty, a sensation truly worth chasing, never losing its luster but taking on new intricacies from every angle. One experience worth a lifetime of joys. 

And Eos, the bringer of rosy light herself... Well, she had imbibed the ambrosia far too quickly to wax poetic about her precious Linnie. The shadow that kept her grounded, one whose very nature of existence could have placed them on incompatible paths. A denizen of the night, a member of Hades' chthonic bloodline... If the Fates were to have their way, Melinoë would never have seen the sun at all. Yet, already having defied her curse with an incantation, she repeatedly tempted predetermination; not just for the sake of defending Olympus, but to see the sun rise. All to see her. Oh Gods, she was ready to cry at the mere thought of it.

Shadow and sunrise, perfectly woven together. Time passed around them, but the two did not seem to care, moving in unison and allowing themselves to exist as one. Whatever energy they each had reserved, it poured itself forth, manifesting as care for the other until both Melinoë and Eos found themselves unable to continue. Thus, brave Odysseus took to the taverna, draping them in blankets and allowing their embrace to continue as they drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

While no stranger to stress on most evenings, Melinoë’s head pounded now with intensity the likes of which had not been present outside her deepest nightmares. Perhaps a mere symptom of lacking self-care—a bed too rough for her now-aching joints, an unending rush to pursue her new mission and prove herself worthy of any newly acquired titles. Maybe the sheer volume of change had caught up and overwhelmed her senses. Her grandfather’s turn of heart, the Fates pursuing an indefinite vacation, all that had come to light about Headmistress Hecate... and, of course, being shut out of Olympus for the foreseen future. The tactical scope of combat each night, it had not changed. But every minute detail, every contributing factor, it took on a multitude of new facets—so much so that she struggled to keep up.

Perhaps she needed a break.

Gingerly reaching a green-tinted hand into her box of keepsakes, she wrapped her fingers around the golden time piece gifted to her by Chronos. A curious little trinket, one she struggled to balance against the rest of her collection... but its prowess in the field did not concern her on this night of nights. No, she hoped to speak with her grandfather this time. And just as Odysseus had projected a spiritual form to confront the spectres of his past, certainly a Titan would be more than capable of doing the same.

Nesting the watch in both hands, its timekeeping face pointed skywards, Melinoë closed her eyes and attempted to recall details of her grandfather’s essence. Among a myriad of mixed signals (to put it lightly), one sense stood predominantly over the others. The gold-clad titan of time, in both his attempts at redemption and his wrathful ways of yesteryear, carried a distinct metallic bite to his scent. Even now, that odor lingered on this time piece, a trace of the titan with which he could be called forth. “Heed now my words, Grandfather. I seek you out, and require your guidance.”

In truth, perhaps there were better locales for this meeting than the training grounds. The spectral projection of Chronos did not exactly inspire any sort of calming sensation amidst the shades, to say nothing of Commander Schelemeus and his panicked yelp. Even though news of this finished war had spread thoroughly within the Crossroads, old habits die hard—she’d be receiving an earful the next night, that was for certain.

“Granddaughter...! I had not expected your call so early this eve—and to welcome me into your Crossroads, no less. In a mere spectral form, of course, but such trivial details all the same shalt not be ignored. You require my guidance, yes? To what end? Does it concern your mission as my Time Keeper...?” His voice wavered slightly at his last question, uncertain as to what might befall the world if these rogue timelines, alternate hostile shades of himself and Typhon, were to remain unchecked. Surely Melinoë did not intend to give up...?

“Good evening, Grandfather. Yes, I... I merely wished to ask if I could take this one night as a brief reprieve from my hunt to slay these fragments of Typhon. I still intend to pursue my full responsibilities, of course, I just...” Her eyes drifted towards her two gateways, lingering on the path upwards to the surface. How could she broach this topic more subtly...? “My nightly routine offers me time enough to speak with the gods, through my acceptance of their boons. But these splintered storm clouds that Typhon carries in his wake, they make it... difficult to contact another dear ally of mine. I simply hoped, tonight, to visit the temple of Olympus as it stands in this time.”

“But my girl, I remained under the impression that they had shut their gates. A decision I would question, were it my place to do so... Have they allotted you a brief time for visitation? If such is the case, I shall gladly stand aside and allow a mild-mannered journey upwards.” The titan proved rather quick to accept that Olympus would open their gates once more, even if he had heard no word to solidify this claim. He simply knew one thing with certainty: would his son venture to once more open the palace gates, his name would not be on the guest list. So such frivolous speculation did not exactly serve to aid him.

“While I’d undeniably like to be welcomed more readily, no, Lord Uncle has not yet changed his stance; his palace remains sealed off. Luckily, I don’t need to breach that aethereal gate. I simply need to reach the summit itself; my... companion can meet me there.” Truth be told, Melinoë wondered whether this utmost secrecy held any point. For years now, the Silver Sisters had moved in silence—the whole point of the Unseen was self explanatory. And this concealment had offered quite the edge over Chronos when the fight truly began. Now, with a legacy of combat truly left behind... What good came from such secrecy?

“Companion, you say...? Such an emotionally charged word, for a meeting clouded so thoroughly with secrecy. Tell me, granddaughter, do your affections lie somewhere within the realm of godhood, or is a future meeting in order?” Chronos soon asked, a sly jesting smile dawning upon his face.

Right. That was the benefit that came from secrecy. While she no longer labelled the titan of time as an enemy, Melinoë unfortunately held no sway over him being her grandfather. And thus came every behavioral quirk that she had heard the Shades bemoan in their stories, time and time again. “That’s... none of your business, I’d think,” Melinoë stammered, dismissing the spectral image of Chronos before he could get in another word. Ah, the quirks of family. Now, the only question that remained was how long until Zagreus caught word and continued the teasing.

Standing before the gateway, Melinoë felt a stirring sensation begin to brew in her stomach. An impulsive first thought wrote it off as mere nerves, a fear response from striding weaponless into what often served as hostile grounds for her. But, in all honesty, with Typhon’s broodlings absent from the summit, the princess would have no issue simply relying on bare-handed combat. That, in conjunction with her latent magical prowess, would be enough to complete the journey without too much issue.

No, she knew fear; nightly vows or not, there would be no fear this evening. This bubbling, one that grew stronger in each passing moment... Anticipation pierced every vein in her body, butterflies circulating through not just the stomach, but all internal organs. These weeks cloaked in endless night, a steady turnover of weeding out odd timelines, they had left the princess unable to seek out any special meetings. And though her desired partner knew the way to the Crossroads, there had been no surprise visits, pleasant notes, anything of the sort. Finally, Melinoë stood prepared to bridge that gap.

The darkest night had passed. It was time to return to Dawn’s embrace.

What was a month to a god, really? A mere blink, the short span measurable only by the most world-altering events. When you’ve persisted at full strength through multiple ages—seen billions of mortals come into existence, then vanish into Hades below—a month is tantamount to nothing. Time spent brainstorming a new song, grooming a particularly detailed beard, throwing a party... Hell, for some, it could even be a brief foray through watching one fascinating mortal, the same as that smaller soul might watch a bug on a rock. It could pass as easily as breath flows from the lungs, gone without any thought given.

For Eos, that month had likened itself to eternity.

Each passing morning, her eyes scanned the summit of Olympus, her horses knowing just when to slow their otherwise frantic gallop. But the saffron-haired princess eluded her grasp time and time again, seemingly having vanished into the Underworld below for good. Perhaps that horrid Typhon had been doing her one favor—his existence was reason enough for Melinoë to make that fearsome journey. With no beast besieging the mountaintops, these morning rides took on a loneliness that hadn’t been felt ever in the millennia prior.

Some days, after passing the day’s responsibilities to her brother Helios, she pondered whether another visit to the Crossroads might be in order. Her heart ached for that connection once more, though the singular trip taken in the past... It left behind a slight aftertaste. Not the ambrosia, but the company that dwelled in that secluded forest. Strife, Doom, Retribution... All children of Nyx, and those were just the mere few she spotted on a first glance. Her rosy glow stood in gross contrast to the pallid tones and gloomy atmosphere harbored by the spawn of Night, a reminder that the light of dawn never did reach these particular depths. Perchance for good reason.

Yet, for the titaness, Olympus offered no greater solace for her to enjoy. Their lavish revelry appeared inviting to all, naturally, though their company proved a hollow gesture not worth pursuing to any greater depth. The fair Aphrodite could be tolerated, though the goddess of love only served to remind her of what could be. So, with heaven and hell alike proving themselves unwelcome... Eos kept to her golden skies, company found in her horses and none else.

The vastness of Greece held such a quiet beauty on nights such as these. Melinoë oft failed to appreciate it, preoccupied more so with her choice of weaponry, and its effectiveness in reducing the lingering armies of the Titan to mere ash. But with no combat to stifle her journey, the minute detail of every locale grew more and more appealing. The marble columns of Ephyra, illuminated in tandem by moonlight and sparse torches... the crashing sea of Thessaly, its violent nature not impeding the many aquatic species that called it home... and to speak nothing of the glorious architecture of Olympus. Quite the scenic route, really; she’d have to slow down and enjoy the view more often.

Her usual gauntlet of guardians, known for causing just enough trouble night after night, appeared to be... mostly susceptible to reason. The flame-bringer Prometheus seemed most amicable, dismissing Aetos immediately and letting his favorite “Agent of Change” proceed without a fight for once. Eris, naturally, still sought to sprinkle in some chaos, but some quick persuasion left them with enough room to change up their form of competition. What was normally a fight to the death, now merely found its resolution through a simple arm-wrestling exhibition. As for the cyclops Polyphemus... He was not as easily swayed. Melinoë’s only saving grace was a particularly noxious brew from Lady Medea, one capable of knocking him flat on his back. Otherwise doomed to a bare-handed combat against a target thrice her size... She couldn’t imagine how that would fare well for her.

The halls and chambers of the summit, devoid of the sprawling father of monstrosity, echoed with stillness so thick that Melinoë felt its pressure against her skin. Perhaps a faint taste of her bloodline’s curse; though her incantation had allowed this venture time and time over, the Fates never intended this to be possible. The higher she might climb, the more the pull of the Underworld would intend to drag her back downwards. But the fearsome princess would not be swayed, venturing summitbound to wear her heart upon her sleeve once more.

Certainly enough, that familiar arena soon fell beneath her feet, mere steps away from the astral gate behind which the gods pursued their hedonistic ways. For years now, she sought an audience in that palace, a chance to stride through marble halls and bask in the surface-dwelling company of her family. Now... She found herself content to sit on their doorstep, knowing her last responsibility was to wait. If they took notice, they made nothing clear; no stirring from the gateway, nor any emergency boons sent for correspondence. The princess was left with nothing but her thoughts and anticipation.

Melinoë had such strange thoughts about time, if one would dare to believe it. Even to say nothing of her grandfather, whose presence had defined much (if not all) of her life thusly, the princess could not go minutes without a need to attend to something new. Tactical briefings with Master Odysseus, assorted lessons with Headmistress Hecate, sparring with Nemesis, her nightly crusades toward her father’s realm—the thought of relaxation existed only in impulse, the desire to take one of her close bonds aside and... well, enjoy their company, so to speak. To sit for hours on end, resting on cold stone and watching the horizon, it nearly drove her mad.

Fortunately, as waiting oft is said to do, it paid off triumphantly as a distant flame flickered to life. The umbral blues of the night sky grew more vibrant and light, supplemented by beams of pink, orange, golden yellow, and all the stellar hues that rested between. And that burning white ball of desire centered itself in that swirling vortex of color, a blessing whose power dwarfed any of her usual Olympian boons. The churning sensation in her stomach returned, blood boiling over in anticipation. Any second now, any moment, she’d be hearing–

“Is that...? Linnie?! LINNIE!”

Eos leapt from her carriage, unable to hold back long enough for a peaceful landing. And though Melinoë hadn’t exactly braced herself to catch an entire titaness, the two didn’t mind as they tumbled across the rocks. Their bodies melded together, arms and legs intertwined as each attempted to pull the other closer and closer. The heat of their bodies drowned out the cold of night, a cacophonous exchange of laughter breaking the silence and bringing a new life to the chambers of the summit. Neither found the energy to form coherent speech; neither needed to do so, content to let their embrace communicate whatever mouths might fail to express.

“My little princess...! It’s been so long, I... mmh...!” Eos attempted the first words, but drowned her own efforts out in equal parts, joyous giggles bursting through when she wasn’t burying her face in Melinoë’s body. “Where have you... What’s... Ugh, tell me everything! I’m liable to explode if I don’t hear more!”

“Eos, you... If you’ll just... allow me a moment...!” Melinoë stammered between her own chuckles, slightly overwhelmed by the enthusiasm she had received. Her companions in the crossroads, they held dearly to a more composed and restrained appearance—Eos had no such reservations, allowing this radiant joy to spill forth and consume the two immortals in tandem. “Hah... There’s been quite a bit of... change in my routine, to put it lightly. I’d tell you all about it, but I’d hate to waste our time together on mere stories. You have... responsibilities, after all.”

The twin horses of daybreak had arrived on cue, empty carriage in tow as they awaited the titaness’s return. They knew of their master’s affections, of course, but this took things a step beyond, causing them to answer a rarely asked question: horses indeed are capable of rolling their eyes. Eos failed to notice, but likely would not think twice if she had. No, her priorities sat elsewhere. A hand immediately wrapped itself around Melinoë’s wrist, Dawn pulling the princess to her feet and pulling her closer. “So join me for a morning, then! No ghastly monsters to concern ourselves with; I want only to know how you’ve been, and I will not allow you to run off without indulging me just a little.”

Melinoë did not know how to say no. Particularly because she had no plans to do so.

Reclining in the golden chariot of rosy-fingered Eos, Melinoë found that the warmth from their embrace had lingered, staving off that sense of pressure from earlier. She expected that this chariot work, raising the sun into the sky, might be a rather involved process for the titaness. But this impression proved itself to be flawed, with Eos discarding the reins after a moment and allowing her steeds to handle the brunt of the task. “Right. Now, explain something to me, Linnie. Last we met, you’d slain the father of all monsters yet again, leaving you a few hours before he might climb back up and resume his onslaught. Now, the hulking beast is nowhere to be found, Olympus appears to be mostly at peace, and you’ve not once crossed my path since then?”

“It sounds absurd of me when you phrase it suchly. But... Yes, you’ve a solid grasp on most of the story. Typhon is, quite simply, gone from our time. A special incantation, paired with my father’s spear, were able to erase that beast for good. Lord Uncle Zeus, he... had his reservations about such power, but seemed thankful all the same. Which meant our only remaining target sat on my father’s throne, in the House of Hades.”

“Ugh, that old bugger, Chronos. Even among us titans, always hailed as the sour apple of the orchard. What of that windbag now, hm? If you’ve removed Typhon from the equation, then surely...?”

Though Eos didn’t finish her sentence, Melinoë flinched at what her open-ended question meant to imply. “Er... That was the plan. One that suffered a sharp deviation approximately twenty years in the past. My brother, Zagreus, he... I entrusted him through dreams with the enchanted spear, assuming he would dispatch of Chronos in the past as I slew him in the future. Thus, a complete dissolution of his power, and freedom for my family.”

“Linnie, don’t tell me he messed that up. Please don’t. My heart can only handle so much.”

“He... sought a more diplomatic approach.”

Eos’s dramatic groan of anguish echoed across the clear skies, likely gifting a few mortals with a confusing glimpse into the realm of the gods. “Brothers. So, what did this peace-brokering nightmare involve on your end, hm?”

“Well... When I returned to lay Chronos to waste, he sat in surrender before myself and Hecate. In an altered past, he had been welcomed into the House, even coming to act as a... loving grandfather to me, as he described it.” The words still left a slightly bitter taste on Melinoë’s tongue, one that she found unlikely to fade with time. “He freed my family from their temporal chains—Father from his more literal ones—and offered me a clean strike. One move, and my mission would be brought to its idealized complete end.”

Eos fell silent, likely waiting with bated breath for the story to continue, so Melinoë spoke further. “Yet, when I held Gigaros towards him, it felt... heavy. Not with the power of the enchantment, or the heft of that infernal metal. But the rippling wave of consequence that would spill from one decision. Even if this talk of change were insincere, a ploy at taking me prisoner with the rest of my kin... To thoroughly erase a titan would sow chaos between gods. That sense of finality has never been present for us, and it left many minds uncertain even when wielded against a monster such as Typhon. Olympus is... no stranger to pointless conflict. Level heads do not always prevail. If I dared set that as a standard for resolution, it would spell disaster for all.”

The princess felt a gentle touch as Eos draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling the goddess in for the softest of embraces. A tear welled up in the corner of her eye, but she blinked it back into submission, refusing to let herself be reduced to a sniveling mess. “Linnie... I apologize if this betrays some sort of immaturity you’d never wish to see in me. But gods, I would not have your strength to hold back in that moment. Raised from infancy to commit yourself to revenge, only to realize with success moments away that such a war could never truly be won. It would tear me apart.”

“It... nearly did, Eos.” Using her spectral left hand, Melinoë pulled Eos’s arm tighter, letting herself fall into the titaness and complete the embrace. “To know I lost not only one childhood within the House of Hades, but two... I’ve spent night after night dreaming of what could have been. The aching voids where happiness ought to reside. Yet... I know that those years, significant as they were, act only as a beginning. You and I, we’re no mere mortals. Before us lies an eternity of whatever decisions we choose to make, a cavalcade of choices that allow us to strive for a beautiful tomorrow. I’ll have far more days ahead than I could ever hope to reclaim in a shattered past. And, though accepting Chronos is a stark adjustment... Time is said to heal all wounds.”

Melinoë had drifted off so thoroughly into thought as she spoke, no longer concerned with the moment around her. What broke through this trance, strangely, was what felt like a drop of rain falling upon her head. Then another. Yet they sat far above the clouds now, unimpeded by the weather... Confusion caused her to stir, only to catch a faint sound that accompanied these falling droplets. Choked-up sobs, pushed back by a titaness who promised herself she wouldn’t cry the next time they met, gods what is wrong with her. “E-Eos...?!”

“Linnie, I-I... You...” Eos sniffled a moment, her free hand wiping away whatever tears fell down her cheeks before pulling the goddess into a proper hug once more. “You’ve... suffered so deeply, my darling, all for the sake of those who might not think twice of you or your choices. To think, who you could have been, if not for all the ways in which cruelty had been forced upon you...”

After one last squeeze, Eos drifted away, basking in the stunning contrast that Melinoë’s eyes offered. That chthonic black and red, and the verdant green of Demeter’s ancestry... and the softness that both betrayed in equal parts. “But then, I’d not have ever found myself by your side. No, our past will never change. But the sun rises yet on a new day, and its golden light will always be with you. There will be love, wherever you go. That much I can promise.”

... Of course. Her inclination for witchcraft, all these incantations and draughts—they had been the product of Hecate’s teachings. If raised without these tools of war, she’d never once set foot in the world above, no less reach the heavens as she did now. Just as there were pleasures she would never feel, she now held the potential to forge new futures that the House of Hades could never provide. Broken and reforged night after night, the princess finally saw the latent beauty that laced every crack in her warrior facade. Golden light shining through, radiant and flawless.

Without thinking, Melinoë felt herself pull forwards toward the titaness, eyes closing as their lips instinctively met. They welcomed her with the plush softness of a pillow, inviting the princess to stay a while, get comfortable. She found a home in this embrace, her arms nearly falling limp as the sense of comfort overwhelmed her, only to settle her grasp around Eos’s hips. Whatever facade she intended to carry, it dissolved away, leaving bare unfiltered truth present in every minute detail. And that truth beckoned with joy: in this moment, I am yours. The rest of the world may as well have faded to black; all the two could recount upon landing was a sensation of sheer bliss, the sort that left them a little wobbly in the legs, red in the face, and drunk with joy.

Eternity, the rarest of all the world’s treasures, is sought after by countless souls in each corner of the inhabited world. Among those who desire its blessing, however, each will maintain a different explanation for why. Fickle, palatable reasons, ones that all underlie the same desire. We seek eternity because we feel as though there is not enough love to give. There are warm embraces to bestow, gifts wrought of kindness, comfort to offer when life proves unkind. We dream of this for ourselves, but also for those we call our companions. Those wed in eternal matrimony, those borne into bonds of blood, and those we deem birds of a feather, spirits cut of the same cloth. An ideal life is one spent showering your bonds in a torrent of joyous emotion, an unending reminder of the love you share.

Melinoë and Eos have a rather ideal life ahead of them.