His growing curiosity made it impossible to be patient, and the desire to know the outcome of the god’s plan, whether it would be a success or complete failure, consumed him. Andthiswas the only way to find out if Charisma had truly completed her task.
He knew that the gods would arrive shortly in the Celestial Chamber, a place where they could observe the mortals while they were undergoing their trials, and he knew he needed to be faster than them in order to keep his presence a secret. Nevertheless, he was unconcerned about their discovery of Charisma’s actions, given that the gods had provided a flawless imitation of her, engaged in the trial as a regular mortal.
Moving quicker than usual for him, he made his way toward the round, enchanting table placed in the center of the room. The gods were able to observe every challenge from that location, as though they were overseeing a game of chess. But just as he came to a stop above it, a momentary thought passed through his mind.
I am eager to find you, mortal. However, I cannot help but be curious whether you fully understand the dangers you are exposing yourself to.
The moment it flashed through his mind, he swiftly dismissed it, instead allowing a portion of himself to delicately come into contact with the circulating air currents that hovered above the center of the table. As the forceful currents tossed andturned around him, he was eventually pulled into the depths, crossing over the boundary and arriving in a perfect mirror image of Hades’ realm.
The darkness enveloped him effortlessly, and the air was heavy with the distinctive scent of decay.
So characteristic of the dead’s realm.
Though it was only a construction of the gods, the way it was portrayed made it feel utterly real, as though he’d been thrown into one of the circles of the Underworld.
With the earth clawed through by abyssal roots, the trees stood tall and twisted with blackened bark. The air was calm, however; there were faint, disgruntled sounds moving amongst the blood-covered branches, like the mournful breaths of the condemned.
Though Shadow hadn’t visited the trial’s site before, he was genuinely amazed by the gods’ accomplishments. He was impressed that they could recreate everything so thoroughly. But as he glided farther between the tree trunks, he attention finally landed on what truly interested him.
There you are, Charisma Sinclair.
She was the second in a row of five mortals who were waiting for the next challenge of the trial. Her chest was heaving, each breath sharp and uneven as sweat clung to her forehead. It appeared as though she was instinctively hunching her shoulders, as if she was attempting to shield both herself and whatever she was holding behind her back.
“Are you well?” a girl asked her, while everyone moved their gazes to Charisma.
One could assume that they were all scrutinizing the blood stains on her hands, but it was far more likely that they were trying to figure out what she was trying to keep hidden from them.
Well, well, what do we have here? Very impressive, indeed.
Shadow glided closer, noticing her bare back. Although the fabric of her T-shirt had melted and made contact with her skin, remarkably, there was no injury that broke the surface of her flesh, just a small area of redness on her skin. That was when he let his attention fall toward the object that Charisma was gripping between her fingers. Even the slightest bit of light within the Underworld appeared to be absorbed by the lengthy, dark, carved wood, which also had a vague glow emanating from its twisting, ancient runes.
A plethora of runes, etched with letters and symbols signifying death were present on the wood, and Shadow instantly realized the identity of the person it belonged to—Charon.
The staff of Charon.
Let whoever dares to wield this staff experience the surge of deadly souls until their spirit descends into the depths of the Styx.
He recalled the words of the prophecy, gliding closer to Charisma as shock grew within him.
His attention was solely on Charisma, and as a result, he immediately lost track of everything else that was happening around them. He turned a blind eye to the other mortals and stopped when he almost reached her tiny frame.
Charon’s staff continued to gleam in her hands and Shadow saw the minuscule black veins that were emerging from her fingers and spreading under her uniform. The dark markings on her flesh were pulsing in unison with the runes etched on the staff.
As her pulse throbbed, a frigid shudder ran through her body; her fingers trembling around the relic. With every vibration, an overwhelming tremor consumed her. Only her grimace betrayed the haunting pain she was feeling.
I am curious, my wretched mortal, as to what lengths you will venture to evade this world?
As a gravelly, commanding voice resonated throughout the entire depiction of the Underworld, Shadow noticed how Charisma instantly regained her composure. She struggled to conceal her emotions with a stoic expression. The sorrow was clear in her eyes, and she continued to try and withstand the powerful magic lingering inside her body.
“Each of you has now reached the final stage of the trial,” Hades stated, revealing himself from the clouds of darkness and chaos.
It was then that Shadow realized how much noise there had been. All of them had ceased speaking when Hades and Artemis finally showed themselves.
Shadow could sense an idling trace of fear among them, considering the change of their posture as the silence completely took hold of them.
The two gods scrutinized Charisma, and if Shadow had been a living creature, he probably would have allowed a playful smirk to touch his lips. He knew they were evaluatinghismortal to determine whether she had accomplished the task they’d given her.
If only they could see the depths of suffering she experienced in accomplishing her task.
