Gnomon, Greece.

  The Pythian Gate was a massive, majestic archway crafted from ivory-white stone.

  It stood at the center of a circular plaza, supported by twelve towering columns, each adorned with intricate patterns and detailed sculptures carved into the surface all the way to the top.

  On one side of the gate was the bustling city of Gnomon at night, blending the timeless grace of marble structures, statues, columns, and fountains with the sleek shimmer of glass and light, where modern brilliance met the quiet pulse of ancient design.

  Crowds of people and non-human beings dressed in all sorts of styles moved through in waves below the gate. Pathways for pedestrians, small vehicles, large transports, and airborne ships were separated by the stone pillars.

  On the far side of the Pythian Gate stretched another city at daytime, this one filled with palace-like structures built on a massive, horn-shaped mountain that curved upward into the sky. Scattered across the city were skyports of all shapes and sizes, buzzing with airships that ranged from sleek and impressive to outright strange-looking. From high above, one could look down and see a dozen major roads from all directions converge at the base of the mountain.

  Tavrato stood as an enormous hub of commerce and travel, a vital point connecting the divine kingdom of Elyrion with the Heart of Cosmos.

  In a private villa near the mountain’s peak, a young woman was soaking in a vast hot spring pool shimmering blue. It had been carved from a single block of tidalquartz taken from the depths of the Ionian Sea.

  Her long golden hair glowed with radiant light, forming a soft halo around her face. Her high cheekbones rivaled marble shaped by a master’s hand, and her piercing eyes, mirroring the color of the Aegean at dawn, held a brilliance that was both intelligent and divinely pure, difficult to describe in words.

  Most striking of all, her entire being was enveloped in a soft golden light, gentle yet commanding, at once noble and divine, making it almost impossible for other people to discern her true features.

  Around the misty edge of the hot spring stood several quiet and composed handmaidens. They posed like steady pillars of devotion, each one holding luxurious tools or supplies with practiced ease.

  One carried a linen towel, woven with exquisite care, soft to the touch, and warmed just right, ready to wrap around their mistress as soon as she stepped out of the water. Another held up an ornate silver tray filled with jars and vials, each containing precious magical herbs and floral oils, extracted to soothe and scent the skin until it felt like silk.

  At the very moment Aaron established his permanent Ether Focal Point, the woman’s closed eyes opened a little bit. She turned her head, looking in the direction of the Pythian Gate for a few seconds as though trying to sense something far away. Her well-shaped brows drew together in a faint crease.

  “Call Photeinis for me,” she said to one of the maids.

  Not long after, a young woman in a long white gown stepped through the doorway. Her face was gentle, and her long, dark-green hair, which flowed to her waist, was adorned with a variety of vibrant flowers.

  “My Goddess,” she said, bowing her head before standing still, awaiting further instructions.

  “Take this, and make a trip to The Origin,” the woman said, removing the necklace around her neck and handing it to Photeinis. “If it leads you to something, or someone, bring them back here. Be cautious and don’t draw unnecessary attention.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  The young priestess accepted the necklace with both hands. The moment her eyes fell upon it, crafted from solar metal and bearing an engraving of the sun, her expression shifted with surprise.

  “Your Highness, what …” she began, but stopped herself mid-sentence when the golden-haired woman raised a hand, signaling her to be silent.

  “No questions,” the woman said.

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Photeinis responded, then turned to prepare for her journey to Earth.

  Watching the priestess’s silhouette disappear down the corridor, the woman whispered under her breath:

  “Such pure solar power ... what could it be?”

  Her voice was so soft that no one around could hear it. Then she closed her eyes once more and sank a little deeper into the warmth of the enchanted Castalian spring’s water.

  . . .

  Lincoln High, the fourth day after Aaron woke up.

  The brown-haired boy walked into the school and was immediately surrounded by his close friends who had waited for him at the gate.

  “You okay, man? We came to visit the other day but your mom didn’t let us in. She said you were still sick. Pretty sure she’s still mad at me for giving you booze,” Wilson muttered.

  Aaron clapped him on the shoulder and said with a bright grin:

  “I’m better than ever. You know how my mom is, just give her a few days, and when she’s calmed down, I’ll take you guys over to apologize.”

  Paul let out a long sigh.

  “I’m sorry, Aaron. I never should’ve messed with that stupid Ouija board.”

  “It’s fine. Really. What’s done is done, so let’s not dwell on it. By the way, where’s that board now?” Aaron asked.

  “I burned it that same night.”

  “Good.” Aaron exhaled in relief.

  Even though the gateway to the Underworld had already closed, he still worried that Tarisel might find a way to use that cursed board for some other trick.

  Kevin lowered his voice to a whisper and asked:

  “So … what really went down with that demon thing that night?”

  Paul and Wilson also leaned in, holding their breath, waiting for the answer.

  “What demon? There wasn’t any demon. I just got alcohol poisoning, that’s all,” Aaron said, brushing it off.

  If this had been before his terrifying journey into the Abyss, he for sure would’ve bragged about everything he saw down there.

  But now, after facing such horror and coming so close to death, something in him had changed.

  On the last few nights, he dreamed himself struggling in the burning current of the Phlegethon River. His skin melting away, his eyes seared raw, his screams merging with the endless chorus of weeping and wailing souls.

  Those dreams would jolt him awake, covered in cold sweat, even though his body always burned hot from the solar power flowing within.

  Besides that, Orpheus’s fragmented memories had also left a mark and shaped him.

  Now Aaron understood there are things that shouldn’t be shared with the wrong people. If he told his friends everything, it might put them in danger. Curiosity was one of the most dangerous things in the world, and he was nowhere near strong enough yet to protect anyone else.

  That was the reason why he had lied and kept everything to himself when Michael and Helen questioned him about the demon after he woke up.

  Sensing that Aaron didn’t want to get into the details, the three boys glanced at each other and chose not to press further.

  “You got some makeup on or something? You looking kinda different today,” Kevin asked, squinting his eyes.

  Normally, Aaron already attracted more than enough attention, but today, a lot more people were turning their heads to throw glances at him. Kevin felt a surge of annoyance when he recalled what the demon had said.

  Single until twenty-seven? Sounds fucking great.

  “What makeup? I’m not wearing anything. This is all-natural, man. You don’t understand how hard it is being this good-looking,” Aaron said with a sigh, feigning misery.

  Kevin rolled his eyes so hard it hurt while trying to fight the urge to kick Aaron in the ass.

  The group continued chatting and laughing as they headed to their own class. After homeroom ended, Aaron stood up and walked toward Ms. Melissa’s physics class.

  But the moment he stepped through the door, he froze in place, and his mouth fell open.

  His eyes widened as he stared toward a student sitting at the back of the classroom. That was a boy wearing an oversized hoodie adorned with a pattern of black feathers on the shoulder. From underneath the fabric on his back, a small pair of wings poked out. Perched on his left shoulder was a raven with deep red eyes, his sharp gaze locked onto Aaron’s face.

  In that moment, time itself seemed to halt.

  Luther:

  “?”

  Acher:

  “??”

  Aaron:

  “???”