The corners of Aergia's mouth curled up slightly, and Nephele seemed to sense her joy, spreading its wings as well. Vast swathes of long, pure white feathers fully unfolded above the sea of clouds, their translucent tips refracting faint hints of pale gold and purple light.
“How beautiful.”
Upon receiving the praise, Nephele immediately raised its head like a proud princess.
“...”
Well, now Thanatos was certain. Not only did this steed care entirely about looks, but it was also remarkably vain.
Only after truly riding Nephele did Aergia understand why Hypnos had specifically asked Thanatos to bring her here to tame this divine creature.
When Nephele spread its wings, it needed practically no running start; with a single flap, the mountain peak rapidly receded below.
Layers of clouds surged toward them, only to part naturally to either side before touching its body. Aergia hardly felt any fierce wind blowing against her face.
It was not merely a matter of flying speed. The divinity of day granted Nephele lightness and the ability to traverse the sky, while the mountain divinity left within its body by Ourea allowed such high-speed movement to maintain an almost miraculous stability.
Even while flying at high speed above the sea of clouds, Aergia, seated upon its back, could easily maintain her balance, allowing her to exercise her authority without hindrance.
Aergia raised her head; the earth was stretching backward beneath her feet.
Forests, rivers, endless mountain ranges, and vast wildernesses yet to be named by later civilizations—this was her first time truly looking down upon the world of Chaos in this era.
Primal and vast, it was far more vivid than any written record could convey.
Aergia closed her eyes, and her godhead of Sleep Induction lit up. Soft divine power spread from her body, showering down bit by bit onto the earth below in cadence with the flapping of Nephele's wings.
She needed only to walk through these places in person, allowing Sleep Induction to truly enter the sleep of life after life.
Deep within the forest, beasts still on alert gradually felt drowsy. Birds chirping on branches slowly folded their wings. Ancient living beings hidden in rocky caves also began to slide naturally from constant wakefulness toward sleep.
No longer active one moment, only to lose consciousness without warning the next.
Between wakefulness and slumber, there was now, for the very first time, a path that could be crossed naturally.
Drowsiness, grogginess, consciousness gradually drifting away from the outside world, and finally, sleep.
This was Sleep Induction—a rule operating within this living, breathing world.
Thanatos flapped his dark wings to catch up alongside them, casting a glance at the goddess and the steed.
“It seems I don't need to worry about you failing to keep up with me anymore.”
Aergia turned her head to look at him.
“Lord Thanatos, our duties in this area have been fulfilled. Where do we go next?”
The pale gold butterfly at Thanatos's waist suddenly fluttered its wings, and the relaxed expression on the young God of Death's face faded.
He raised his head and looked off toward a distant direction across the earth. In that moment, the childishness and impatience that normally belonged to him seemed completely stowed away by an invisible power, leaving only the solemnity that a true God of Death should possess.
“A life has reached its time,” Thanatos said, unfurling his dark wings. “Keep up.”
Aergia gently patted the side of Nephele's neck, and its pure white wings spread in response. The goddess and steed quickly caught up with the God of Death ahead.
They eventually descended into an ancient grove deep within a valley. It was unusually quiet here, devoid of flying birds or the sound of beasts moving about.
Vast patches of even, white skylight filtered through the branches and leaves, casting fine, dappled light and shadow upon the ground.
And in the deepest part of the grove, a tall, ancient pine tree had reached the end of its life.
It was far too old; its thick trunk required several people to encircle it, while its once-lush canopy now retained only sparse branches and leaves.
Grayish-brown bark peeled away in large patches from its surface, the exposed wood drained of moisture, while long, slender pine needles continually drifted down with the mountain breeze. With every falling needle, the faint aura of life within the tree dimmed by another degree.
Beneath the ancient pine sat a young girl—or rather, a divine entity that resembled a young girl.
She had long, dark green hair with fine pine needles scattered among the ends, and light, bark-like patterns faintly visible on her pale skin. Her long dress seemed naturally woven from moss and thin leaves, and her bare feet sank into the gnarled roots of the ancient tree.
Aergia recognized this kind of divine creature at a glance.
Nymphs—a special kind of existence extremely common in later Greek mythology, yet difficult to simply categorize under a single race.
Mountains, rivers, springs, forests, and even a single ancient tree could spawn a nymph of their own. They possessed divinity and could walk alongside the gods, with lifespans far exceeding those of mortal beings, yet not every nymph could truly escape death.
The one before her was clearly a Wood Nymph, born together with the ancient pine behind her and sharing a single life.
While the tree lived, she lived; and when the ancient tree reached its end, her life would likewise be snuffed out.
“Aetali.”
Thanatos, the God of Death, landed not far from the nymph and softly called her name.
Aetali slowly raised her head, clearly recognizing the deity before her. The moment those eyes—originally as bright as fresh leaves—fell upon Thanatos, an undisguisable fear surfaced within them.
“Is this the end?” she asked, her voice very quiet.
Thanatos did not urge her, merely glancing at the ancient pine behind her. At the highest point of the canopy, the last few branches that remained green were losing their color at a pace visible to the naked eye.
“Come with me to the Underworld.”
Aetali fell silent. A gust of mountain wind blew through the grove, rustling down withered pine needles. She reached out to catch one, gazing at it in her palm for a long time.
“I thought...” She gently clutched the pine needle. “I thought I would be able to see it sprout new leaves once more.”
Thanatos did not answer. The God of Death was never responsible for promising how many tomorrows a life might still have; he came only when its time had truly reached its end.
The pale gold butterfly at his waist fluttered its wings and took flight. It did not land on the nymph immediately, but first circled the dying ancient pine, leaving specks of golden scale-light on the cracked bark. Deep within the ancient pine, a light of life—already so faint as to be nearly imperceptible—manifested in response.
Only then did Aergia notice that countless thread-like green rays of light still connected the nymph to the ancient tree. They passed through the tree's roots, through the soil, and through the nymph's translucent body. Most were already extinguished, leaving only the final few strands stubbornly connecting them.
Thanatos walked up to her. Without drawing his sword, he slowly reached out a hand, and the law of death descended accordingly.
There was no killing intent, nor any gore. The God of Death was not stingy about bestowing his meager mercy upon these pure divine creatures, making death seem more like nightfall descending at last upon a journey that had reached its end.
Aetali's body gradually grew transparent as tiny specks of green light slowly rose from her skirt, fingertips, and long hair, resembling microscopic fireflies scattering from among the leaves under the pure white skylight.
At the same time, the final green pine needles on the ancient pine began to fade in color; her soul was being extracted.
Yet at the very instant those last few strands of light were about to snap, Aetali suddenly reached out with both hands and tightly embraced the tree trunk behind her, causing the green specks of light that had begun to scatter to come to a sudden halt.
“Wait,” she whispered, her voice filled with reluctance and fear—reluctance to leave this beautiful earth that had accompanied her through vast ages, and fear of the unknown, dark Underworld she was about to enter.
Aetali pressed her face against the rough bark, her voice trembling slightly.
“...But I don't want to go.”
She did not weep or wail, nor did she struggle frantically like the lost souls in the Underworld. She merely held tightly to the ancient tree that had shared long ages of life with her, her intense unwillingness deepening her bond with that withered wood.
“Ever since I opened my eyes, I have been here. When the first rain fell, when the first bird built its nest on a branch, I was here.” Her fingers tightened bit by bit. “I don't know... how to let it go...”
Thanatos frowned; a living creature's resistance to death was an affront to his majesty.
He increased his divine power output, and death pulled at her once more. Aetali's soul parted slightly from her body, only to be yanked back by those last few strands of life that were dim to the point of being nearly transparent.
She was still unwilling to let go.
Thanatos's patience was completely exhausted, the mercy in his heart dissipating entirely as his hand moved toward the short sword at his waist. A life severed by his short sword would suffer the agony of having its soul ripped away by force.
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