[The Seraphic Decree Begins]
The words echoed commandingly as a crimson thread stretched between them.
Divine and mortal binding their souls in pact deeper than blood and truth.
It should have been a moment worthy of legend.
For any mortal, even witnessing such a contract would have been the honour of a thousand lifetimes.
And yet…
The mortal before her did not tremble.
He did not blink.
He only smiled—that same unsettling smile he had worn from the beginning as if it was stitched to the bones of his soul.
Hel studied him again.
Rael Von Ashborn.
Even now, as the divine laws recognized him and the Seraphic Decree began… he remained unchanged and unbothered.
That alone disturbed her more than she dared admit.
Because something about this… didn't make sense.
He hadn't flinched in the presence of the Heavenly Principles, an entity so far above her that even she dared not look too long.
Has he met the Heavenly Principles before?
No, that shouldn't have been possible for a mere mortal.
The Heavenly Principles were a being that even, her, a Goddess could barely meet… so how could a mortal have done that?
She had doubted the Principles would even accept the Decree.
And yet they had.
Not only that, they had invited them here.
To True Heaven.
A realm she had only visited once herself, when she ascended to godhood.
When Gods invoke a Seraphic Decree, the laws respond remotely… they do not invite everyone to this realm.
But this time, they had summoned them.
They had opened the sky and watched him.
That was not normal.
It unsettled her.
Not with fear but with something far rarer for a goddess like her.
Puzzlement.
And then… there was the mirror.
One of the cracked ones had shimmered briefly to show her something.
A vision.
They never revealed the truth.
Only a truth, one the seer needed to know.
Not necessarily the most important, but always… something relevant.
And in that reflection, Hel had seen herself.
She was smiling.
She had studied the vision and deciphered it the only way she could.
She had smiled.
She, Hel, Queen of Stillness, Ruler of Helheim, the Goddess of Underworld and Silence had smiled.
She hadn't done that in eons.
Not for war. Not for worship. Not even for victory.
So if she had smiled in that vision, there could be only one explanation.
She had learned the truth.
She had discovered the location of the Chalice.
And in that moment, in that version of reality, it had been enough to move even her.
That was the interpretation she had come to.
"O Great Goddess, I shall ask my three questions now."
The mortal's voice cut through the stillness.
Hel's gaze shifted to him.
She waited, slightly curious now.
She wanted to see what kind of question this mortal would dare to ask.
No… not just dare but choose.
Because that was the thing.
He had orchestrated this moment, not just as a plea for life but as a maneuver.
Yes, it was a fair trial under the rules of the Seraphic Decree.
But it was more than that.
It was a method for him to extract information from a goddess—her—while keeping the gods and fate itself bound by cosmic law.
That was what she had assumed.
That was the story she had crafted in her mind.
The mortal sought wisdom and secrets meant only for gods.
And in return, he had wagered everything.
It was clever and ambitious.
"My first question is…"
He took a pause.
"… what is your favourite snack?"
Hel blinked.
For the first time since the Seraphic Decree began, her composure cracked, just slightly.
A single frown formed at the edge of her lips.
Was this some kind of mockery?
A joke?
Or worse… a genuine question?
Had she misjudged him completely?
Was he nothing more than a foolish mortal playing at grandeur, negotiating with the divine just to resurrect?
No greater game?
No veiled strategy?
Just a grin and nonsense?
She looked at the crimson thread between them, still pulsing softly with divine authority.
The question had been accepted by the Seraphic Decree.
Which meant—by law—it counted as one of the three.
Hel didn't speak immediately.
Instead, she thought about the question.
A snack?
She almost wanted to scoff.
Had she even spoken that word aloud since she had ascended? Since she had shed the name that once belonged to a mortal girl and taken on the mantle of death?
No.
Because Hel, the Goddess of the Underworld, had no need for favorites.
She had no time for desire.
And more importantly… she could no longer taste.
That had been one of the many prices she paid for her power.
She remembered. Not clearly—no, the memories were buried under eons of time.
But the memories still lived somewhere within her.
The girl she once was.
A foolish mortal with a warm hearth and cold hands.
A girl who had once stolen a small jar of lotus seeds soaked in honeyed wine from a market stall.
They weren't divine or rare.
They weren't even particularly sweet.
But she liked them.
Because someone she loved had liked them first.
Hel's gaze drifted downward.
And for a brief moment…
…she remembered the taste.
Or maybe she imagined it.
But either way, she spoke.
"Dried lotus seeds soaked in starlight nectar."
Her voice held just a small, unnoticeable hint of softness which vanished as soon as it appeared.
"I see."
The mortal across her nodded without a hint of mockery for the simple snack she spoke about.
As if the snack of a long-dead girl still meant something in the grand theatre of gods and souls.
And that made Hel pause.
Even more than the question itself.
What was his goal?
Why, of all things, would he make her remember?
She had buried those memories long ago.
Hel.
The End-Watcher.
The One Who Waits Beyond the Veil.
The girl she used to be had no place in Helheim.
She had left her humanity behind the day she became a myth.
But now… it stirred.
Not as a weakness.
But as a deliberate reminder.
For the first time since this began, she truly looked at him.
Not as a mortal. Not as a pawn of the Trickster. Not even as a calculated risk.
But as an unknown.
An anomaly.
Who are you?
The question echoed in her mind.
But she would find out.
Even if she had to answer two more questions to do so.
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