The nights in Olympus felt solitary, the sky was still burning over the mortal realm, streaks of fire dancing along the clouds. But Olympus was quiet, as it always was in the still hours of divine night. Aphrodite reappeared at the edge of the celestial path, clothes torn, golden skin dimmed with soot and blood and heartbreak. Her bare feet stepped soundlessly across the marble causeway, her eyes empty.
She did not look up. Not even when the gentle hum of light stirred from above.
A warm voice called down. "Aphrodite?"
She blinked, barely reacting. From his high perch in the firmament, Helios was descending, the last of his flaming horses dissolving into stardust behind him. He had returned from his arc early— worried, perhaps, by the unnatural storm Zeus had conjured below. His golden armor was unblemished. His face handsome and radiant, lined with concern.
"You're hurt." He said, landing softly near her. "What happened?"
She did not answer right away. Her body trembled, and she took a long breath before finally speaking, her voice brittle as cracked porcelain.
"Kassus." She whispered.
Helios' brow furrowed in confussion. "The mortal?"
She nodded. "He's gone."
His expression darkened subtly.
"You mean... Zeus killed him?"
"No." Her voice broke. "Not yet. He sent the Hecatoncheires. Dragged him—" She stopped, hands clutching her arms. "He made me watch."
Helios stepped closer, hesitant. "I... I'm sorry, truly. I didn't think it was this serious."
"I love him." She admitted.
Helios paused mid-step. She did not notice. Her gaze was far away, somewhere in the mortal world, where blood met dust and Kassus' smile had clung to her like a lifeline.
"I've known him a week." She said, a soft, broken laugh in her throat. "Seven days. That's all. But I... I've never felt anything like this. Not even with Ares."
That name —Ares— might have stung, but Helios kept his composure.
"You risked exile." He said with concern. "for a man you've only just met?"
Aphrodite finally looked at him— and there was something terrifying and beautiful in her gaze.
"I would've risked Olympus itself if it meant one more day with him."
Helios said nothing at first. A perfect silence settled between them. And in that quiet, something inside him shifted. His features remained gentle. He reached out, brushing a curl of ash from her cheek with two fingers, tenderly, reverently.
"You're too kind for this world." He said.
She smiled, weakly, as if not even hearing him. Helios watched her closely. And somewhere, beneath his golden warmth and godly calm, a subtle ember of jealousy lit.
One week, he thought. And she would defy Zeus himself for him. He said nothing else as she moved past him, her steps slow and distant. But as she disappeared into her chambers, Helios lingered under the stars, watching the direction she had gone, wondering if she was making the right decisions by choosing Kassus over another one of their kind.
The next morning, the golden halls of Olympus glowed with a sleepy hush, the morning barely creeping in through the divine mist. But Aphrodite was already awake, because she had not slept in the first place. Her knees pressed against the cold marble floor of her chamber, her hands clasped before her. She was not praying to Zeus. Not even to Ares. She was whispering to the Fates, the Moirai. The ones behind every death, every creature's destiny.
"Please." she breathed, her voice cracking. "I know he's only a mortal. I know. But he's brave, and kind, and everything the gods have forgotten how to be. He doesn't deserve Tartarus. He doesn't deserve this. If you have any thread of mercy left, don't cut his."
She closed her eyes, golden tears slipping down her cheeks. Unseen by her, the door creaked open gently.
"Aphrodite?"
She startled slightly, turning. "Helios..."
He stood in the doorway, soft and golden as always, though a faint concern lined his features. "I heard you speaking. May I come in?"
She nodded, wiping her eyes quickly so he could not see her crying. He stepped inside slowly, his radiance subdued, like he was dimming himself out of respect for her sorrow.
"You were praying to the Moirai." He said gently. "That's not like you."
She smiled faintly, bitterly. "Nothing about me is like me anymore."
Helios knelt beside her. "Tell me about him." he said. "About Kassus."
She hesitated.
"I just want to understand." He added, soothing. "You don't have to hide from me."
Her lip trembled, but she nodded. "He's from Rhodes. A soldier. A God hunter."
Helios blinked at that. "Rhodes?"
"Yes," she said, voice growing softer. "He lost everything in the war. His family, his home... the gods took it all. And yet he still manages to be— " she stopped, breath catching. "Good."
"A god hunter." Helios repeated, more thoughtfully now. "He... wouldn't happen to be the one who—" he paused delicately. "—slayed Hephaestus, would he?"
Aphrodite flinched. Her silence was enough of an answer. Helios looked away briefly, lips parting in surprise. That was a revelation.
He exhaled slowly. "So that's why Zeus was furious. Kassus was already branded an enemy."
She nodded. "He wanted to kill me at first, but he didn't. He didn't even kill Hermes because he saw the fear in my eyes, and instead, he acted kind. He saved my life, and I saved his. We had a connection." Her voice trembled, and then the dam broke. "And now he's in Tartarus. And I can't help him. I can't do anything—"
She collapsed into sobs, her body curling slightly in on itself. Helios reached out and gently pulled her into his arms. She did not resist. She wept against his chest, shaking. And Helios just held her— warm, strong, quiet.
"You've suffered enough," he murmured, brushing his hand through her hair to console her. "You don't have to go through this alone."
Helios held her tighter, letting her cry as long as she needed. Once she composed herself, he pulled away first, looking into her eyes, admiring her beauty even when she was in her worst moment. He caressed her cheek softly with his thumb, and the sight of a smile in Aphrodite's face made him feel satisfied that he was able to console her.
"Thank you, Helios." She whispered. "But can you give me some time alone? I still... need some space to think."
Helios nodded, immediately walking towards the door, even if his steps were slow and hesitant, almost as if he wanted her to stop him.
"Of course. Just please don't isolate yourself, Dite." he said as he walked through the door.
The golden halls of Olympus were silent, save for the faint crackling of a brazier outside her window, it was already late night. Aphrodite sat curled at the edge of her marble bed, wrapped in silk, but nothing could warm the chill inside her chest. Her hands trembled as she stared at the floor, seeing flashes of Kassus' bloodied face, his broken body dragged across the earth like a trophy of her guilt. The door creaked softly.
She did not turn though, she already knew who it was just by the way her room began to feel warm.
"Helios," she whispered, voice strained.
The Sun God stepped inside, radiant even in the dim candlelight, though his golden glow was softer now, almost somber. He approached slowly, carrying a steaming cup of nectar.
"You didn't eat during the feast." he said, kneeling in front of her. "I thought maybe this could help."
She looked at it with tired eyes, but could not bring herself to take it. Instead, her voice cracked.
"He screamed for me."
Helios' expression fell. He placed the cup on the bedside table and gently reached for her hand. She did not resist.
"I couldn't save him." She whispered.
There was a long silence before she spoke again.
"He's in Tartarus now. Because of me."
Helios' thumb brushed across her knuckles. "Because of Zeus." He corrected softly. "Not you."
Her lip trembled. "I should have stopped it. I should've fought harder, bargained better— something." She finally looked up at him, eyes swimming in gold and grief. "You don't understand. Kassus... he didn't just save me. He saw me. Not as a goddess. Just... as someone worth loving."
Helios' eyes darkened, just barely. "You love him."
She nodded, barely able to breathe. "Yes."
He looked down for a moment, the silence heavy between them. Then, gently —almost painfully— he smiled. "Then I understand."
He stood suddenly, and she blinked in confusion as he turned toward the door. "Where are you going?"
"To speak with Zeus."
"Helios, no—he'll never listen—"
"Then let him strike me too." he said. "No one deserves what happened to that mortal. Least of all you."
He crossed the door, his steps firm and fast, the glow in his body growing the closer he got to Zeus' throne room. Helios' eyes were purely fire, because he did not like to see his friend, and the woman he loved, in such pain. As soon as he opened the door of the throne room, he spoke loudly.
"Zeus!"
The god king was right in front of Helios, he was about to leave the hall since it was late at night. But hearing Helios scream right in front of him made him show evident disgust. He already knew what Helios was there for. Everyone was pretty much aware in Olympus, except for Aphrodite herself. The thunder in Zeus' voice had not stopped rumbling since his return. The flames on his throne crackled with divine fury, even if he was almost a yard away from it.
"You DARE speak of the mortal again?" Zeus roared, his hands clenching into fists.
Helios stood tall, eyes bright and firey. "I dare because she is in pain. And because what you did was cruelty, not justice."
Zeus stepped closer to the Sun God. "Tread carefully, Sun God. You glow with borrowed light."
"I do not fear your shadows." Helios replied calmly.
With the speed of lightning, Zeus raised his hand and struck. It was not a bolt— no. He simply slapped Helios across the face, but the force behind it was divine. Helios staggered, ichor trailing from his lip, his knees almost buckling.
Aphrodite gasped from the doorway, running forward. "Stop it!"
Zeus glared down at Helios. "You would choose a mortal over Olympus?"
Helios looked to Aphrodite, pain etched on his face— not just physical, but quiet and noble, as if he regretted nothing.
"I would choose compassion."
Zeus' eyes narrowed, finding the actions of his own gods stupid, to say the least. He grabbed Helios by the collar and slapped him once again, before throwing him out of the hall as if he was a ragdoll, falling directly in Aphrodite's arms. The doors closed on their own right after, and Helios was left outside with the goddess of love.
"You're an idiot." Aphrodite whispered as she helped her friend get back to his feet. "And you're bleeding."
Helios let out a painful chuckle, before he wiped off some of the ichor on his lip. He bowed slightly as a sign of respect, and at the same time, admitting his foolish actions of trying to defy Zeus himself.
"You might be right, but you still came to watch my divine ass get kicked." He responded, slightly playful.
He saw it. That hint of a smile, those eyes lighting up just a little bit. She was still in pain, grieving a man she wasn't sure if he was dead or not. But he just made her smile, and that was more than Helios would ever ask for. Aphrodite eventually thanked him for trying, and left to her chambers. The Sun God wanted to do the same, to have some rest before his usual work at day. But a flame of curiosity and determination filled him. He had to know where this mortal man was, who was really Kassus and what he could do to help Aphrodite smile again.
It was still early morning. The moon hung low, reluctant to give way to Helios' ascent. Aphrodite sat beneath the whispering olive trees, her eyes distant, sleepless. She heard him before she saw him. His footsteps always light, respectful.
"I thought you might be here." Helios said, offering her a gentle smile.
She returned a tired one. "You always find me."
"The sun always looks." He sat beside her. "I couldn't sleep either."
A moment passed. Aphrodite toyed with a flower in her hands, but Helios did not speak immediately. When he did, his voice was laced with hope.
"I may have found something."
Her head snapped toward him. "What?"
"About Kassus. Or... where he might be." He looked to the horizon. "There's a theory I've been chasing. It started when I asked Hephaestus' old forgers if they ever saw the blade Kassus used. They didn't— but they did mention the markings on it were Titanborn. Not Olympian. So I thought... what if the blessing on his sword didn't come from Olympus?"
Aphrodite's brow furrowed. "You think a Titan blessed the Aegis Blade?"
"More than think." Helios said. "I visited Tartarus before sunrise."
Her eyes widened. "You what?"
"I asked for audience with Iapetus."
"You risked—"
"I had to." Helios interrupted, earnest. "For you."
Aphrodite's breath caught. She looked at him, torn between gratitude and guilt.
He continued, "I told Iapetus everything. The blade. The mortal. How he was dragged to Tartarus... but never arrived. He should've passed through Iapetus' domain."
"And?" she asked, heart pounding.
Helios hesitated, then gave a slight shake of his head, eyes serious.
"He didn't know who Kassus was."
Aphrodite stared at him. "But... Olympus said Iapetus blessed the sword—"
"Which means Olympus was wrong." His voice dropped low. "Or lied."
Silence fell between them like thunder.
Aphrodite turned her gaze to the trees again, her lips parting slowly. "Then who blessed Kassus' sword to kill Gods?"
"I don't know." Helios said softly with a shrug. "But I'll help you find out."
She looked at him again, her eyes shining. "Why are you doing all this for me?"
He smiled gently. "Because I know what it's like to want the impossible."
She did not ask what he meant. She leaned against him again, exhausted. And once more, he let her cry in his arms.
—————————————————
"Come back to me."
Kassus' eyes snapped open with a gasp. He was still in Aegaeon's grasp, but his breath was fire now. The cold was gone. His pulse thundered through him like a war drum. He remembered who he was. And more importantly, who was waiting for him. With a growl, Kassus moved, writhing in the monster's grip and using every ounce of pain and adrenaline to shift his body just enough to slip through two of the beast's fingers. He twisted, kicked off a forearm, and flung himself between tangled limbs.
"What!?" One of the heads snarled.
"He squirms!" another cried.
But Kassus was already gone— small, agile, bleeding but burning with purpose. He dodged a swipe, leapt from a wrist to a shoulder, then dove under an arm. The beast swung blindly after him, its own massive limbs tangling.
"Hold still!"
"WHERE IS HE?!"
Kassus did not stop. He climbed, he ducked, he moved like the tide itself. A blur of mortal fury against divine monstrosity.
Then, he saw it. A swirling whirlpool forming beneath the beast's stumbling steps. Created by its own thrashing, by the imbalance Kassus had caused.
"This ends with you, not me." He growled lowly.
With a roar, he sprinted down the creature's back and struck one of the heads with a discarded piece of bronze, a splintered trident from a long-lost battle. The creature reeled, arms flailing, heads screaming in chaos.
And then it stepped wrong. Its own hand crushed one of its ankles mid-swing. The whirlpool beneath churned with ravenous hunger. Aegaeon howled and toppled. With a thunderous crash, the Hecatoncheire fell, dragged into the sea by its own weight and fury. The whirlpool swallowed it whole —limbs, heads, screams— all vanishing into the abyss.
Kassus, panting, collapsed onto a nearby rock, his body shaking from the effort, soaked and trembling. He looked toward a distant shoreline. His fists clenched.
"I am coming back to you." he whispered, still tasting her voice in his mind.