Back? # **Chapter Seventeen: My Only Wish (This Year)** *OLYMPUS Headquarters, 2:00 PM* --- Eira returned to OLYMPUS headquarters, collapsing onto the couch. After all, his deal had given him a few hours to kill, and the heroes wouldn’t know he hadn’t spent all his time conniving against them. He felt his eyelids droop, ready to drift into his second nap. He prided himself on his restraint: back home, he’d already be on his third -- if he even bothered to wake at all. The underworld was immeasurably dull, especially after being trapped there for centuries. “EIRA!” An angry voice tore through the demon’s peaceful rest. A voice he recognized. “Y-your Majesty!” He stammered, jolting to his feet. Across the room, the Goddess of Death glared daggers at him through the vanity mirror, wild curls as red as her cheeks. Her mismatched eyes shot daggers through him: the left a roiling ocean, the right a withering void. Her rose-red lips curled into a scowl, revealing pristine, pearly-white teeth and canines filed to a deadly point. “What the hell are you doing?! I sent you up there to kill the heroes and ruin the Feast, not to waste time playing with them!” She gestured wildly with her hands, and Eira stepped back as if her nails could pierce him through the glass. The demon’s heart dropped as the weight of what he had done sank in. Instead of simply killing the meddlesome heroes right then and there, he had orchestrated a deal with them, essentially locking him out of his mission until the terms expired. He let his flair for the dramatic distract himself from the task at hand, potentially handing his enemies their victory on a silver platter. “I…Your Majesty, with all due respect, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied, his voice wavering. Seraphina rolled her eyes, but her hair changed from angry red to icy blue, a sign that her anger was beginning to temper. “I think we both know that you do -- your little visit with Yarru made sure of that. But, if you need a little reminder, your visit to the upper world won’t last forever. Parting the veil enough to let a Demon Lord loose isn’t an easy feat, and it’s only a matter of time before the binding spell drags you back home, kicking and screaming. You can already feel yourself weakening, can’t you? Best not to waste any more of that strength goofing off. Got it?” She sounded less like an arrogant queen than a put-upon kindergarten teacher, which somehow made Eira feel worse. He bowed in shame, silently cursing the God of Chaos for sticking his meddlesome nose where it didn’t belong. “Yes, Your Majesty. I understand. But I can assure you that my victory is already well underway. There’s no way the heroes will be able to fix everything in time, and even if the Festival is back in order, some of its key performers are thousands of miles away. I simply slip in, drive everyone to immeasurable despair, watch as they freeze to death, and return triumphantly to Obcasis!” “Mm.” The queen's reaction was damningly neutral instead of the impressed praise he had expected. “...Your Majesty?” “I honestly expected better of you, Eira. If there’s one thing that leads to a swift defeat, it’s underestimating your opponent. Remember how the Pandorae and Nicholas got the better of you? You give them an inch, they take a mile. You, of all people, should know this.” “Oh, come on,” Eira scoffed. “Even with the concessions I’ve given them, what will these heroes do? They’re not gods, they’re not Paladins--” “They’re something WORSE. The gods, the Paladins, they know they can win. Mortals don’t, which makes them fight even harder to ensure they do. I need you to do everything in your power to make sure that Astral and her stupid friends don’t win!” Seraphina’s voice grew to an angry, whiny shout, her hair flaming as red as a rose. All at once, Eira understood precisely why his queen was so furious. She had a personal vendetta against one of the heroes he was up against -- Astral Autumns. She had done the one thing mortals were warned never to do: defy death. Almost exactly a year prior, she had thrown herself into the Underworld, challenged Seraphina to a duel, and, most appalling, won. All so she could bring her true love back to life -- something that had clearly worked, considering that he was alongside her on a tropical vacation. “...Thank you for the advice. I won’t fail you, Your Majesty.” Seraphina nodded, satisfied. “You’d better not. If you mess this up, Eira, -- you think you’re treated cruelly now? You haven’t seen anything yet.” With a flourish of rose petals, the goddess’ image vanished, her threat hanging heavy in the air. Eira drew a deep breath, gathering his thoughts and steeling his nerves. He’d prove to his queen and her court once and for all that not only did he deserve respect, he demanded it. He’d prove it. He couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if he didn’t.