The world had lost all hope for a better future, as Eros began his slow descent into the realm of forgotten memories.
Chapter 42
Eros
He was unfazed by the cold air that touched his bare skin, showing no sign of distress nor concern for his own well-being. Eros ignored the necessity of wearing a shirt as protection from the first unprecedentedly severe snowstorm that had blanketed Olympus and entire Elythra.
While maintaining his grip on the balcony’s edge, he subtly moved his head and continued to gaze intently at the distant horizon. The snowflakes swirled and danced in the air while the forceful wind kept on howling without any interruption.
He wondered if his bonded enjoyed the snow, and it was through that thought that he realized how little he knew about the woman he bonded with. Even with as little as he knew about her, it was more than enough to stir those feelings inside him. Because he found her inherently easy to love, even though he hadn’t yet known the sensation of loving her.
His fingers tightened their grip on the balcony’s edge, and his gaze shifted downward to observe his hands. In that instant of mental fogginess, he yearned to see the mark of the bond on his arms, but only noticed his pale, dry skin prickle with goose bumps from the cold.
“She is no more, Eros,” he whispered to himself as his fist struck the edge, the marble cracking under the force of his unbelievable strength.
The darkness within him had changed Eros to such a degree that he had become a frightening god. Perhaps it was the reason why no one had dared to visit him recently.
After he had commanded Hades and Artemis to leave his place, they had not returned. He did not have any desire for company, regardless of who it was.
“There has to be a way to bring her back.”
The quiet words of a creature he knew very well drew his focus. His eyes quickly shifted to the right, and he saw Charisma’s fairy on the opposite edge of the balcony.
“I am afraid that is not true,” Eros said, his jaw twitching.
The fairy approached him carefully, hovering in the air directly before him. Before he spoke, he fiddled with his fingers as he thought carefully about what to say.
“T-th-ere has to be a way to bring her back,” he insisted, and a hint of hope was clear in his tone. “Maybe you should explore other ways to resurrect her before you destroy the world . . .” He gulped, taking a deep breath. “I cared about her too.” As the last word left his mouth, a torrent of tears streamed down his face, prompting him to immediately wipe them away.
Eros focused his gaze, sympathizing with the deep sadness the little one was experiencing. He realized the fairy did not get to see her before she passed away. He had been completely oblivious that their last meeting together would be their last.
“Perhaps you are right,” he finally whispered, letting his gaze fall to his feet.
“But. . b-before you leave, is there anything I can do to make the pain more bearable for you? I am aware of the immense suffering gods endure if their bond is broken without the ritualto reverse the process, which I believe you didn’t tell Charisma about. . .”
But as he didn’t give the fairy an answer, his mind quickly drifted, allowing him to contemplate and understand the significance of the fairy’s words. He pondered again about a method to bring her back, all the while knowing that reviving a mortal would disrupt the equilibrium of their world.
But what does it matter to me?
I would allow the world to be destroyed to know that she is safe—and alive.
His darkness’ voice echoed loudly in his head, and his face instantly changed. He knew there was someone who could help him, but he did not think that she would be willing to. Regardless, he was going to make certain that she would fulfill his demand.
“I miss her so much,” he said again, his voice breaking with each word he uttered.
“You will see her again. Take note of this,” Eros interrupted him as his gold wings sprung from his back and he finally left from the balcony.
For over an hour, he’d been pleading with Hestia to aid him in reaching her sister, Kalythea, and he could feel his frustration building. Eros wanted to find her, knowing that she was the most powerful dark witch Elythra had ever known so that she might help bring Charisma back from the dead. He was frustrated with himself for being unable to locate her, but Hestia was theonly one who knew where she was. Kalythea was hiding from everyone but her sister.
“Eros, I forbid it. I will not disclose my sister’s whereabouts, and even if I did, she would not be of any assistance to you with such a matter.”
She will, or else I will make her.
Hestia’s voice stirred at his insides. Every line of his face, unshaved and rigid, seemed taut as if he were a coil being pulled too tight. With his nostrils flaring and sharp breaths escaping his lips, his fingers began to clench, revealing the venomous words that were on the verge of being spoken.
“I believe you underestimate the lengths I will go to, Hestia.”
The moment he spoke, the large windows of Hestia’s house flew open, and the interior space became subject to the snowstorm that was raging outside. It felt like the wind shouted at the same time with Eros, helping him to make his demands even clearer. The goddess gasped as the frigid air invaded her home. She immediately stood from the sofa and attempted to shut the windows; however, the strength of the wind was too intense.
