"You're late."

Arsen didn't bother to activate the magic stones, even though it was pitch black in the spacious bedroom. Bad form for an emperor, Calypso would say, but his trespasser was not a threat. The words... he would recognize them anywhere, from the smooth aristocratic accent to the clipped tone in which they were spoken.

"I told you I'd be by after nine," he said wearily, letting his robe drop to the floor. A rustling later, and light illuminated the bedroom and his visitor. "I thought you were having a late supper with your ladies-in-waiting and why are you sitting in the dark?"

Calypso gracefully rose from her perch on the chaise lounge, her bare feet soft on the plush carpet as she crossed the room toward him.

"We had to cancel at the last minute because Eli caught a cold," she explained. Her lips curled slightly as she stopped in front of him and reached for his tie, slender fingers working at the silk knot. "And I like the dark. It suits me."

His hand, which had settled on her hip as soon as she was within touching distance, slid around to the small of her back to draw her closer. "But I can't see you in the dark," he murmured as he dipped his head to stare at her sharp, intimidating emerald-green eyes. "And that's unacceptable. It's making me nervous."

"As it should be," she whispered.

Ever since that night she appeared in his bedroom and cried her heart out, they kind of had a silent agreement to sleep together every night. Sometimes it was Arsen who stayed at the Empress Palace and vice versa. But tonight was Calypso's turn to stay at his.

Everyone in the palace seemed to be excited by this development. Rumors spread among palace workers about the possibility of the next heir being born soon even though the reality was far from their imagination.

After all, Arsen and Calypso never did anything other than hold hands or cuddle, so how could the next heir possibly be born anytime soon?

If Arsen had to describe his current relationship with Calypso, it would be two people rowing a boat in an endless stormy sea, holding on for that little hope that the storm would pass and they would finally find land. He didn't know all the shit that happened to them in their lives, and she never really told him about it either, but it didn't matter. They sat there. They just sat there, together, and that was all that mattered.

He recalled how shocked he had been seeing Calypso that night. The last time he had caught her crying was when she was twelve. He had never seen her cry in front of anyone ever since. He knew that she was too proud and stubborn to let anyone see her in her vulnerable state, but once she started, she wouldn't stop for a long time.

He didn't have a lot of history with girls, let alone crying girls, so he had been nervous. His palms had been sweating in anxiety as he watched her crying between her hands.

They weren't pretty either. No, Calypso was an ugly crier.

Of course, he would never say it out loud; he wasn't a complete idiot. Even if he didn't know much about girls, telling them they didn't look good while crying sounded like it would only lead to more crying.

Not that it mattered to him whether she looked pretty or ugly while. In fact, he didn't care even if she looked like Medusa or a hag. The only thing that mattered to him was she was still his Calypso, and to be honest, all he could think about at that moment was how he should comfort her.

He recalled how she sobbed as she pressed her face on his chest. The voice that came out of her mouth was something in between a wail and a sob, something so full of misery that he couldn't help the tears that pooled in his own eyes.

There was a rustling sound as Calypso seated herself on one of the couches and gestured for him to follow.

He was still for a moment. Then he took a breath, walked to her, and laid down, resting his head on her lap.

She tenderly stroked his hair and forehead and though he wanted to look at her, he found himself shutting his eyes tightly instead, as if it were too tired to stay open.

"I don't think I'm made for this," Arsen whispered softly, but his voice sounded a little harsh—as if he was pushing them out of his throat.

She didn't say anything; just continued to gently stroke his hair.

"Sometimes, it's just so hard. I can't see myself living like this. I want to. More than anything, I want to do it. I want to protect my father's legacy, so I push myself to keep going. I try—I swear I try, but at the end of the day... I'm just a person, you know, not a concept." She stopped suddenly between stroking his hair, and he felt her stiffening briefly before she resumed her stroking. "Then one day I woke up and everything was just... black. It was so dark. I woke up and... I couldn't even see myself breathing—like I didn't exist. It was all black and there was no future to think of." Arsen sighed, his eyes still shut when her hand was suddenly on his. "It was scary."

His body shuddered slightly. He still had trauma about that moment. He hated thinking about it. But then, he continued, "I used to want so much. I still do now, but it's just me being greedy for things—none of which I deserve."

She didn't respond but just stared at him with a knowing look.

"Do you remember, Calypso? I used to be so bright. I felt like I could do anything if I just put my mind to it." A bitter grin tore through his lips and he opened his eyes just slightly to look at her. "But I can't even put my mind to anything anymore."

Unlike Calypso who had never been one to believe in something elusive, Arsen had believed in kindness and a fighting spirit. He had believed in easy humor and a temper that got the best of someone more often than not. He had believed in endless optimism despite having seen the worst of the world. He had believed in brilliance hidden in madness. And yes, once upon a time, he had believed in the people around him because there had been nothing else to believe in—or someone.

He shut his eyes tightly as if he was trying to get himself together. "I wonder where he went? That bright and young kid who felt like he had the world in his hands. Has the kid gotten sick of being me for so long?"

"I don't think that kid is going anywhere. He's still here. If there's something I know about that kid, he's always a believer of the impossible, just because of how much he believed impossible to be yet another challenge." She took his hand, pulling it toward her. "He's just hiding for a while. Yes, it might get too tiring for him a bit, but he's still there and he's waiting for you. Until you're ready—he'll always wait for you. After all, you are that kid."

He didn't know if she was just talking bullshit to make him feel better. Calypso had never been one for selflessness, or comforting, or caring, really. So yeah, she might have said that out of pity for him, but it was still the most hopeful thing he had heard in a while.

Calypso moved her hand from his grip, sliding it to his cheek, and held it tenderly. Her fingers were cold, yet it felt so nice.

Thinking back on the day his parents died, he remembered how she held him while he cried countless times. He should have confided in her earlier back then. Maybe they wouldn't end up in this mess?

But it's too late now.

So why does it matter?

"I'm terribly sorry. You don't need to know about my troubles. Surely you have enough of your own." He brought his forearm to cover his eyes. "I'm sorry for being so pathetic. Others have it so much worse than me and yet here I am, pitying myself. They have it worse. I have it easy, but I keep complaining."

She didn't reply, just letting him talk his heart out, but it was somehow comforting.

The topic was dropped just like that, and the next thing he knew, they were settled in comfortable silence, his head still buried in her lap.

Her hair reminded him of the purest velvety nights—he played with it while she read a book; something about a Greek god.

The tales from Greek mythologies were always her favorite since she was a child. She was named after one of the famous characters from that said mythology after all.

When they were kids, she used to host a play with other noble children every once in a while and they would act out these famous Greek plays. Sophocles, Euripides... whatever. His mother used to sponsor all of it. She always loved Calypso and was willing to indulge her in her literary pursuits—something that her own mother didn't deem worthy enough.

In every play, Calypso would always be the deity or the oracle, because... who would deny her if she wished to play whatever role she wanted to? She was Calypso Berenice.

Him, on the other hand, would hang off the balcony and shout commentaries, always going off the script. He remembered the hot burn of the sun on the side of his face when she looked up at him in awe—giggling, laughing, breaking her own character. It was one of the best parts of their childhood.

The silence stretched until Calypso decided to open her mouth again.

"If it wasn't for me, you would have forgiven her easily wouldn't you?" She asked him. It sounded casual enough, but he noticed the bitter undertone in her voice.

"Are we going to talk about her? Again?" Arsen furrowed his brows, skeptical. "Just to make it clear, you're the one who brought up this topic."

She rolled her eyes at him, but she gestured for him to continue.

"Probably I would," he admitted. "But it's only because there's no one I could blame more than myself for all of this mess."

He glanced to check on her expression and saw her frowning at him.

"Are you upset?" He asked.

"No."

Arsen raised his brow disbelievingly.

"I'm really not that upset," she blurted out as if to drown her own thoughts. He knew she was lying. "I'm just... bummed."

A pause. Then he replied with a too-slow, too-skeptical nod.

So she tried again. "Maybe a bit more than that. Aggravated. Annoyed. Yes, I'm annoyed."

"I don't know if this would make you feel better, but she hated herself, you know," he said suddenly.

Calypso looked up from the book she was reading. "What?"

"Phoebe... She has more demons than I can count."

"I know." She pondered for a moment. "Still doesn't change what I feel."

She went back to reading, but he could tell she was looking—he could even imagine her expression.

It didn't take too long before she gave up and put down her book. She looked at him then, but she was... blank. Nothing on her face.

"Your point is?" She asked.

"Nothing." He shrugged.

Calypso sighed tiredly. Her skin was so pale that she looked almost ghostly.

"I know that she was groomed that way and she maybe didn't do anything by choice," she said as if she could read his mind, her voice firm. "But someone has to hate her for what she did to you—to us. I know you've forgiven her, but I don't."

A slow smile spread across his cheeks and he gave her a helpless expression.

Someone was genuinely angry in his defense—he didn't realize until now that he needed to hear that.

"Thank you," he whispered.

It seemed like it took her a moment to register what he said before she shifted her posture and narrowed her eyes to a slit.

Damnit! He knew that look. The interrogation hadn't ended.

"Let me ask you another thing," she suddenly said.

Of course Arsen didn't get any say in this so he just let her continue.

"Did she appreciate what you did for her?" She raised her voice. "Did she know what it cost you?"

He started to reply, but she cut him off by grabbing his hair a bit too hard; intentionally or not, he was sure she had pulled a few strands in the process. "Ow!"

"Did she appreciate you? Did she know what she had?"

Sometimes he was really annoyed by how perceptive Calypso could be. She knew everything.

"Yes," he replied dreadfully.

He remembered how Phoebe had shed tears for him during his last moment.

That counts, right?

"Did she?" Her voice became uncharacteristically shrill.

"Yes!" His voice also rose slightly in irritation but he smiled, feeling a pleasant warmth from her concern.

She raised an eyebrow and loosened her grip on his hair. "She better."

Arsen studied her in silence and reached out to take her hand, running his fingers over her bony knuckles. It felt strange, and yet familiar. They hadn't really been physically affectionate ever since they got married. It was only recently that they started opening up to one another again, just like the old times.

He squeezed her hand, then mumbled, "You've changed."

Calypso squeezed his hand back. "So have you."

He got up to a sitting position and shook his head. A tired smile graced his lips. "Okay, enough with the heavy stuff. Let's talk about something light. What do you say?"

"Sure." She shrugged. "What should we talk about?"

Arsen looked around, his eyes landing on the book Calypso had been reading just a few moments ago. He picked it up and started flipping through it, stopping at an illustration of a man with grapes in one hand and a chalice in the other. "Dionysus?"

Calypso turned to him and smirked, her emerald eyes glimmered under the light.

"Did you know..." She started; her hand suddenly gripping his as if they were running. "Did you know that the Greeks used to put masks on a pillar to represent Dionysus when they prayed before him?"

"Yeah... I've heard about that." Arsen let out a sigh as some heaviness settled on his skin—he knew where this was going.

"Dionysus," Calypso spoke. "The devotees all wore a mask and it was sort of a test for them. If they were able to show complete devotion, they could take the mask off their faces and live their lives blessed with bounty."

Arsen felt Calypso drop her head softly on his shoulder.

"But if they showed fear and denial, the god they worshiped would curse them to be just like him. Deranged and full of madness." She paused for a moment before continuing, "I wonder if this world is like that, too."

"The Greeks did have a peculiar idea about godliness," Arsen replied.

"Yeah... It wasn't split into good or evil. The gods were mighty, powerful, and simple, really. Profoundly simple. They took their ambrosia and they stayed on Mount Olympus, far away from the humans and their emotions were... so simple. Jealousy, rage, love. They believed that a god was a god because they weren't so constrained like humans—weren't plagued by morality or regret. Everything a god did was... absolute. Implacable love and hate and fear and absolute monstrosity." A warm breath brushed his neck as Calypso huffed. "But it's so twisted if you think about it, isn't it? No goodness or wretchedness in them, then?"

"Maybe they just didn't see it that way."

"Was that why Euripides used the golden crane for Medea when they first acted out the play?" Calypso mused. "I always wondered. This child murderer... among the gods. Maybe that is divinity. Maybe it's not good or bad... just the opposite of being human."

Arsen licked his bottom lip. It was parched; every part of his was parched and weary. He felt at the edge of shattering. Perhaps that was why the next sentence cracked out of his throat. All the nonsense about godliness and foolhardiness and things that couldn't matter in his life broke away from his throat.

He said, "The Greeks used to believe the closest a human can reach to divinity is at the moment of death. When you... complete your cycle, you fulfill your destiny, and death awaits at the end." —because it's always death that's waiting. Death and darkness and this... eternal chain of giving and taking and flaying your skin in the hopes that there was some light at the end of the tunnel. Only the light was harsh. Only the light could be harsher than life. Maybe that was why it was scary. The light was scary.

People could easily forgive a child who was afraid of the dark, but the real tragedy of life was when men were afraid of the light.

Like us. Like us...

Calypso nodded, her breathing shallow.

"They believed that in the moment of death, a person is closer to the gods. Closer to being a god themselves than any other time," he continued.

"Did you feel it then?" She asked.

"Me?"

Calypso mumbled something, her lips dry against his neck. He pretended not to hear it.

"I'm not sure, Calypso," he said after a lifetime. "I don't know. Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. But honestly, I don't think it matters much to me. I'm dead either way."

She snorted. "It's sad, isn't it? Being us."

Yes. It was sad and unfair and absolutely, undeniably cruel. He wondered how it felt for her in her last moment. Was it painless? Was it full of pain? If from the journey to the darkness and back was safe or littered with the debris of all who died before. He wondered if she came back whole, or if parts of hers were rotting away in graveyards somewhere like his. Most likely the later.

"Maybe this world is truly a gigantic, meticulous power surge and it is the god and we are the masked servants with our knees folded and hands stretched and head empty. Heart empty," Arsen said. He shuddered at the thought.

"Maybe." She shrugged as she gave him a bitter smile. "Maybe that's why this world is infecting me. Because I resist—because I rebel. Mad god of madness."

He would have answered, he would have looked at her and hugged her tight and said it was okay to be scared and doubtful and to be wretched. The world was a wretched place anyway, and nothing mattered in the long run; everything was destined to die and rot and perish like it never existed. It didn't matter. They didn't matter.

But then it probably would only make Calypso feel worse, so he assessed it was better to keep his mouth shut.

After all, these were just the thoughts that poisoned his mind. Unwarranted, idiotic thoughts.

He tried to focus on something else instead—like her presence by his side. He focused on the comforting feeling.

In the end, he decided that all that mattered was that they were both here, alive—pretending like they were normal functioning human beings even if it was only on the surface.

***

Author's Note:
I'm finally back from the death, and yeah, I'm so sorry for the delay. I know I'm so behind schedule, but honestly, I can't even begin to describe to you guys how many hits of writer's block I had to get over to get the flow of this chapter down. So yeah, this chapter took A LOT of editing. Like, an unreasonable amount and I still don't know if it's exactly where I want it to be, but that could just be me overthinking literally everything. I tend to be a bit too perfectionist sometimes, and this thing can either be a blessing or a curse, you know. Or both. Still, I hope you guys enjoyed it regardless! Votes and comments are always appreciated.

Oh, and we got another Arsen's perspective. I realize that he might not be everyone's favorite character, but this chapter is needed since it does play an important part in the plot. But I'm curious though, what do you guys think about his perspective? And what's your favorite part of this chapter? My personal favorite is when they're talking about Greek Gods. I used to be obsessed with Greek mythologies when I was younger because of Percy Jackson. I don't know if you guys noticed or not, but I sometimes inserted bits and pieces of Greek mythologies in this story. Hahaha...

Last but not least, the theme song for this chapter would also be from Arsen's perspective. Enjoy!

Letter - Jimin

What should I say?
How will I deliver it?
I'm just clumsy
I know it's obvious
So that it's not taken lightly
Let me tell you properly

I say uh-oh, I hope you're happier
You-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh who used to reach out to me when I fell
I say uh-oh, I'll hold you now (I'll hold you)
So that you won't fall down when you want to cry

Will you still be the same even if some time has passed?
Like the first time we met, hmm-mmm
If we were together, even the desert could turn to a sea
Just the way we wеre then, oh-hoo-ooh

I say uh-oh, I hope wе last forever
You-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh that felt like a warm spring day to me in the cold winter
I say uh-oh, I'll always cherish them
The fun moments between you and me

Baby, don't leave, just stay with me, yeah
To you who saw me greater than my little self (to you)
So that I can only deliver as much as I received (Uh-oh)
So that I can keep my word (Uh-oh)
Don't worry, just stay by your side, yeah
Because I don't know what days awaits us (Yeah)
I'm scared even though it looks like it (Uh-oh)
Don't forget to always say "together" (don't forget)

I know it's obvious
So that it's not taken lightly
Let me tell you this properly

https://youtu.be/mckTU1bmFuw