The Queen’s Blessing

Sleep wasn't happening.

Kael had tried everything—changing positions, counting Cerberus heads, even attempting meditation (which, in his opinion, was just fancy sitting). But no matter what he did, his mind kept circling back to the tournament. He was too excited.

The glorious, blood-pumping, limb-shattering tournament of doom, where he was probably going to get his butt kicked—though a little less now, since he was trained by the best.

So instead of resting like a normal person, he made a different decision. An out-of-pocket one. Something only Kael would think of.

He was going to see his mother in the Underworld to ask for her blessing. After all, she was the goddess of the Underworld. At least then, he might have a better chance of placing in the top 30.

A soft whistle left Kael's lips. A second later, the shadows stirred, slithering through the open window before forming into the sleek, feline shape of Cyrus—his ever-loyal companion and professional enabler of bad ideas.

The shadowy creature tilted his head. "You're supposed to be resting."

Kael swung his legs over the bed. "Yeah, well, sleep and I are in a complicated relationship. I need to see her."

Cyrus let out a huff but didn't argue. Instead, the darkness beneath them twisted, swallowing Kael whole. The world blurred, melted, twisted—

And then, just as suddenly—

He was in the Underworld.

Not in some cursed battlefield or a sea of lost souls, but in a garden. A breathtaking, eerie garden.

Vines curled around marble archways like living things, their leaves shimmering between blue, silver, and something in between. A river of liquid moonlight wound through the center, flowing over smooth obsidian stones. The air carried a faint hum, an energy both tranquil and ancient.

She was sitting beautifully on a stone bench right in the middle of everything.

Persephone.

She hummed softly as she ran her fingers through the glowing water, and then she stopped.

"…Kael?"

Her head snapped up.

And before he could react, she ran toward him, crossing the garden with a speed that defied mortal limitations.

The force almost knocked him off his feet as she pulled him into a fierce embrace.

"Oh, my sweet child, look at you!" she gushed, cupping his face between her palms. "It's only been a week, and you already look thinner! Have you been eating? Are the mortals treating you well? Did you remember to wear warm clothes at night?"

Kael groaned. "Mom—"

She grabbed his arm, inspecting him like a battlefield medic assessing injuries.

Persephone pursed her lips. "Mm-hmm. And what exactly brings my son to the land of the dead in the middle of the night? Not that I don't appreciate a visit—you never visit anymore."

"It's been a week."

"Exactly! A whole week!"

Kael sighed, deciding to cut to the chase. "Mother, I have come seeking your blessing before I march into war."

The teasing light in her eyes dimmed. Something in her gaze sharpened—ancient, protective, dangerous.

Then, very calmly, she asked,

"…How many soldiers do you need?"

Kael blinked. "Uh. What?"

She gestured to the vast lands of the Underworld. "Our armies are endless, Kael. If you wish it, they will fight for you."

His mind screeched to a halt. "Wait—you're serious?"

"Completely."

He opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.

"I CAN SUMMON AN ARMY?!"

Persephone tilted her head. "You are my son. More than that, you are Hades' heir. The moment you choose to wield your power, the Underworld will answer. The dead do not defy their king."

His brain short-circuited.

"Okay, but like, is there a beginner's guide for 'controlling armies of the dead'? Or do I just yell 'Attack, or bring me victory!' and destroy everything?"

She let out a quiet chuckle. "In time, you will learn."

Kael exhaled. "As tempting as it is to storm the tournament with an undead horde, I feel like that might be… frowned upon."

"A shame," she mused. "It would be entertaining."

He snorted. "Mom, you're terrifying."

She smiled. "I know."

The brief moment of humor vanished as Kael hesitated to bring up the topic that had been gnawing at him.

"…Where's Dad? Did he not return yet?"

Persephone's smile darkened—not vanished, but softened into something unreadable. Kael didn't like that look. He knew she was hiding something. Before he could ask, she replied, "don't worry, your father will be back… he's just on important business."

Kael frowned. "Business? Where?"

She hesitated. "He didn't tell me."

His stomach twisted. "Really?"

"The last time he was here, he said he had something urgent to take care of. He promised he would return."

A cold sensation crept up Kael's spine.

Hades didn't just leave the Underworld. Not without reason. Not without telling Persephone.

And if even she didn't know where he was…

Then something was very, very wrong.

Kael clenched his fists. "You really don't know where he went?"

Persephone shook her head. "No."

Kael knew his mother was hiding something. He knew she wasn't telling him everything. Throughout their conversation, she hadn't once looked him in the eyes. He wanted to push her to tell him, but he realized it was only making her sadder.

So Kael forced out a smirk, shoving down the gnawing unease. "Well, if he's in trouble, at least he's got a cool son to bail him out."

Persephone let out a soft laugh and ruffled his hair. "That he does."

Before he left, she placed a hand on his forehead.

A warmth spread through him—deep, powerful, ancient.

"My blessing," she murmured. "For strength. For wisdom. And for victory."

The power settled in his bones like a second pulse. Kael took a slow breath, feeling the shift, the weight of something more coursing through him.

He stood taller.

"Thanks, Mom."

She smiled. "Go. Win. And do not forget—you are not alone."

The shadows stirred at his feet, curling around him.

And with a rush of darkness—

He was gone.

Back to his room.