Chapter Seventy-Five
Have you never wondered why one of the main rivers in the Underworld is called Acheron?
Tabitha Wysteria
Kage reappeared in the Underworld at the river’s edge, where the dark waters whispered endlessly against the shore. He did not linger. He waited only long enough for Charon to arrive, his patience fraying with every passing heartbeat as the ferryman guided him across in silence.
The moment his boots struck the dock, Kage ran.
He ran without pause through the dim streets of Asphodel Meadows, past wandering shades and hollow-eyed souls, through fields of black roses that brushed against him like reaching hands.
He did not stop. Not once.
All the while, a single desperate plea echoed through him, raw and relentless.
Please. Just a little longer. Let her hold on. Let me say goodbye.
By the time he reached Tartarus, breath ragged and chest burning, the world seemed to narrow into a single, fragile moment.
And then he saw them.
Zagreus still sat upon the black volcanic ground, his body slumped, his head resting against the great white wolf as though he could anchor her there through sheer will alone.
Kage’s knees gave way.
He collapsed before them.
His gaze found Wren’s.
Those blue eyes, so bright once, were now dimmed, barely open, clinging to the last threads of light.
‘She was waiting for you to return,’ Zagreus said quietly. He sounded… small. Lost. Like a child who had finally realised no one was coming to guide them home.
Kage did not answer. He could not.
He dragged himself forward instead, the ground rough beneath his hands, until he reached her. Gently, so gently, he pressed his forehead to Wren’s snout, as though afraid she might vanish if he touched her too harshly.
And he stayed there. For a long, aching while. Listening to the slow, fragile rhythm of her breath.
‘You were always the purest and the bravest of us all,’ Kage said, his voice low, his forehead still resting against hers.
The great wolf whimpered, a fragile, broken sound.
Kage pulled back, just enough to look at her, to truly see her. The rise and fall of her chest had grown uneven, her breath shallow, her strength fading with every passing second. Those once-bright blue eyes struggled to remain open, flickering like dying stars.
‘Where will she go?’ he asked quietly, glancing towards Zagreus. But the god only shrugged, helpless, his silence louder than any answer.
And so they remained there together, the two of them, hands buried in white fur, offering what little comfort they could as the inevitable drew nearer.
‘I would have liked to have met her… up there,’ Zagreus said after a while, gesturing vaguely towards the darkness above, to the mortal world beyond their reach. ‘To have known her… as she was.’
Kage exhaled softly. ‘I’m sure she would have liked that too.’
The wolf let out a faint huff, as though agreeing.
And for a fleeting moment, both men smiled.
But Kage could feel it. The end, creeping closer.
She could not hold on much longer. And he would not ask her to.
‘You can go now, Wren,’ he whispered gently. ‘You can rest.’
Zagreus stiffened beside him, his mismatched eyes widening in alarm. ‘No…no, not yet—’
But Kage did not look at him.
His entire world had narrowed to the creature before him.
He leaned in, pressing a final kiss to her nose, his hand settling softly against her snout—a farewell that needed no grand speech, no hollow comfort. Just presence. Just love.
As Wren’s eyes finally slipped closed, her breath fading into stillness, Kage drew his hand back. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted two fingers to his forehead and bowed his head.
‘It was an honour to call you a friend, Wren Wynter,’ he said, voice steady despite the weight behind it. ‘May the shadows guide your way.’
And in the quiet that followed, she was gone.