Queen of the Underworld

As Kael lay alone in bed, his eyes slowly closed, and he drifted into a deep sleep. Shadows crept in, pulling him under. They wrapped around him, embracing him like a blanket, holding him still.

He wasn't falling—he was floating, weightless, as if gravity didn't exist.

This darkness was different. It wasn't the cold that bit at his skin in the slums. It wasn't heavy or suffocating.

It was warm. It was soft.

Like being embraced.

Like someone was holding him.

Then, a voice flowed through the empty void. Gentle. Soothing.

"My sweet child… sleep."

And he did.

Kael woke to a warmth he had never felt before.

Not the kind that came from fire or sunlight—this was different. Softer. Safer.

Fingers ran through his hair. Slow. Careful.

His body tensed. That wasn't normal.

He forced himself to blink. As he did, silver light filled the space around him. It wasn't from an Academy lantern or the golden glow of streetlights. It was muted, stretched like twilight that never ended.

He inhaled deeply. The air smelled fresh, like rain on stone. A floral scent lingered, something familiar.

But he couldn't remember why.

Shifting, he felt something solid beneath him.

Someone.

He wasn't lying in a bed.

He was lying on someone's lap.

His body froze. His thoughts stopped working.

He didn't know what to do.

Every part of him screamed to move. To run. To roll away. To fight.

But something told him he didn't need to.

He felt safe.

Slowly, he looked up.

And he saw her.

He knew her.

He didn't know how or why, but he did.

It didn't make sense. He had never seen her before, yet deep inside, recognition flickered.

Her hair was dark and flowing, braided with gold threads. High cheekbones. Perfect lips. Eyes deep violet, filled with something he couldn't quite grasp.

She wasn't just beautiful.

There was something else. Something that made him feel small yet safe.

Like looking at the night sky and realizing how endless it was. Like standing at the edge of the world and knowing there was more beyond it.

And he had seen her before.

He wasn't sure where.

Then, his memory flickered.

Blurry. Faint.

But real.

Flashes.

His knees hit the ground. His hands clutched his head.

Memories poured into his mind like a flood.

He saw someone running.

Someone holding him.

A voice whispering words he couldn't understand.

Fear in her eyes.

A promise.

Then—

The feeling of being left behind.

His breath slowed. His chest ached, as if something was missing, but he didn't know what.

Before he could think—before he could even process the words—

He spoke.

"…Mother?"

His voice cracked.

Barely a whisper.

Before he could say anything else, she pulled him into her arms.

He wanted to protest. He wanted to push her away.

But a part of him didn't.

No one had ever done this for him before.

Yet, he didn't feel unsafe.

He felt safe.

Like something he had always wanted but never had.

He didn't understand why his throat burned.

Why his hands shook.

Why his eyes stung.

Just for a moment, he let it happen.

He let her hold him.

He let himself believe—

That he wasn't alone.

That someone had been waiting for him all this time.

But the moment didn't last.

Reality came crawling back.

His breath turned uneven.

He pulled away, panic setting in.

"Wait—" he forced out. "Who… who are you?"

Her expression changed.

Kael could see the sadness in her eyes.

Something deeper.

She gazed at him and whispered—

"Do you not remember me?"

It wasn't a question.

Kael shook his head. "Why do I feel like I know you from somewhere?"

She didn't answer right away.

She just watched him, searching.

As if she had lost something precious and had finally found it again.

As if she had been waiting for this moment her entire life.

Then, she let out a small, sad smile.

"You were always a curious child."

She reached for him, brushing her hands against his cheeks, as if she had waited forever to do this.

The second she touched him—

His blurry memories sharpened.

Everything crashed down at once.

This warmth—he had felt it before.

She was the first person who had ever held him.

It was her.

The woman who had carried him while running.

The first person he had ever seen.

The one who had held him in her arms.

A lump formed in his throat.

He didn't know what to say.

He wasn't in danger.

But there were bigger questions now.

"…What is this place?" he whispered.

She took his hand, squeezing it gently.

"Welcome home, Kael."

Kael stared at Persephone, his mind racing, his body frozen, unable to move.

Then—

Everything hit him all at once.

His chest tightened. His breath slowed.

Gasping for air, he stepped back, clutching his chest like he had been stabbed.

"Oh no!" he cried. "I'm dead!"

"This is it! My tragic end! My untimely demise! I was so young! So full of potential!" He threw his hands in the air, collapsing to his knees. "I hadn't even kissed a girl yet! And now? My own mother has dragged me into the depths of the Underworld to perish in eternal darkness!"

Persephone gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. "Oh no! What have I done?"

Kael stopped mid-spin. "…Wait, are you—?"

Before he could finish, she grabbed his arm, her expression filled with fake terror. "Oh, my poor, poor son! He was stolen so young! Such a tragedy! Such heartbreak! Will this world ever recover from the loss of the legendary Kael Voss?"

He squinted at her. "Are you—are you making fun of me?"

She nodded warmly. "Yes."

Kael groaned. "Unbelievable. My own mother mocking my suffering."

Persephone clutched her chest in mock despair. "How shall I ever forgive myself?"

Kael crossed his arms. "You know, I was really committed to that performance. You could at least pretend to feel bad."

She cupped his cheek, smiling. "Oh, I do, my love. But you're not dead. So forgive me if I'm not drowning in guilt."

She fought back a smile.

"I'm sure it would have been a great act."

Kael sighed.

He turned and leaned over the balcony.

"So if I'm not dead… then where exactly am I?"

Got it! Here's the next part of your chapter, with improved flow, sentence structure, and grammar—while keeping all your original words intact.

Kael looked over the balcony, taking in the Underworld for the first time.

There were no limits to the sky. It wasn't day or night—just an endless silvery-violet haze.

Far below, the land stretched on, strange and ghostly. Shadows twisted across the ground, colors muted and blurred together.

The River Styx cut through the landscape like a black scar, its waters shifting unnaturally. Charon stood at the edge, ignoring a spirit desperately trying to haggle over the passage fee.

Kael's eyes scanned the realm, and he frowned.

The Underworld was… a mess.

Spirits wandered aimlessly. Some fought like angry teenagers, shoving and shouting. Others threw insults, pointing translucent fingers in exaggerated fury.

A three-headed hellhound bolted past, barking wildly at a shadow sprinting in the opposite direction.

Nearby, a ghost in a toga swung a cane at another ghost, screaming about an unpaid debt.

Kael blinked. "Why are they acting like this?"

He turned to his mother. "Where is Father?"

The warmth in Persephone's expression faltered.

She hesitated. Just for a second.

Then, she smiled softly. "Your father went to run some errands. He will be back soon."

Kael stared at her.

Something about the way she said it… felt wrong.

She looked worried.

Not the kind of worry over a late return. Not the kind over something simple.

It was the same look he had seen before. The look of a wife watching her husband leave for war, unsure if he would ever return.

Kael didn't push.

Instead, he changed the subject.

"So… what do we do now?"

Persephone's lips curled into a grin.

Kael took a step back. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

She clasped her hands together, her voice light. "Kael, my dear, you are the heir of Hades. That means you are next in line to be king."

Kael's head spun.

"You're joking."

Persephone shook her head. "No, Kael. Until your father returns, you are the king."

Kael's hands flew up. "I'm fourteen—almost fifteen! I don't even know how to file taxes! How am I supposed to run a kingdom?"

Persephone let out a soft laugh. "You don't get a choice, my love."

Kael groaned. "Unbelievable."

Persephone looped her arm through his and began leading him down the hall. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty of help."

Kael eyed her suspiciously. "You sound way too happy about this."

She beamed. "I've always wanted to spend more time with you."

Kael sighed, dragging his feet. "I should have stayed asleep."

The Throne Room

They passed through massive obsidian doors into a vast chamber.

At the far end, two thrones stood side by side.

The Queen's Throne gleamed, carved from smooth ivory stone streaked with silver and deep violet. Delicate carvings of blooming flowers and curling vines wrapped around the frame, their petals glowing faintly. A gentle warmth radiated from it, as if an unseen presence lingered.

The King's Throne was stark in contrast—black obsidian with sharp edges, flickering shadows crawling over its frame. It loomed, solemn and powerful, its presence undeniable.

Between them, a sword rested on a stone pedestal.

Kael's breath caught.

The Black-Bladed Sword stood apart from anything he had ever seen.

Shadows curled along the metal, shifting as if alive. The blade gleamed darker than the night sky, sharp enough to make his skin prickle.

The hilt, wrapped in old, worn leather, bore the weight of many hands before him. Strange symbols lined the blade, glowing faintly silver—words of power, long forgotten.

Persephone stepped beside him. "That's your father's sword."

Kael didn't speak.

The sword's beauty left him stunned.

Then—he felt it.

A pull.

It was calling to him.

Persephone's gaze softened. "Seems like it's chosen you, my son."

Kael's feet moved before he could think.

He stepped forward.