Raising Hel, in Danmachi.

[Common]

The morning air over Orario was crisp, cool, and humming with anticipation. Ruby stood at the gate leading out of the city, watching the Loki Familia assemble with their usual chaotic confidence. Armor clinked, packs thumped against backs, mages murmured last-minute incantation checks. Even so early in the day, the crowd had gathered—because whenever Loki's elite went on an expedition, it was an event.


Ruby had to admit… they looked impressive.


"You don't need to come all the way out here, you know," Tiona said brightly, leaning forward with her hands behind her head, flashing Ruby a grin that could've powered a small district.


Ruby shrugged. "You guys are going deep. It felt wrong not to see you off."


"Tch." Tione smirked, arms crossed. "Or you're making sure we don't slack off."


"I mean, that too," Ruby said, grinning sheepishly.


Finn approached, prim and polished even in expedition gear. "We appreciate your presence, Ruby. And your concern." His eyes softened. "But don't worry. We'll bring them all back safely."


Behind him, Bete snorted. "Hah. As if we're the ones who need worrying about."

But even he didn't say it with full bite this time… more like the familiar bark of a wolf trying not to show he was touched.


Gareth gave Ruby a nod. "Stay outta trouble up here, lass."

As the last preparations wrapped up, Loki herself strolled over, stretching like she'd just woken from a particularly comfortable nap. Of course she hadn't—Ruby had seen her subtly checking her children's gear, counting her party lineup with hawk-like precision.


"Well, well, my lil' flame," Loki drawled, poking Ruby in the cheek. "Ya look like a maiden seein' her sweetheart off to war."


Ruby spluttered. "W-What?! No I don't!"


Loki grinned wide, then leaned in conspiratorially. "Relax. They'll be fine. This is just a deeper-than-usual dive, not the end of the world."


"I still plan on going in…" Ruby muttered, folding her arms. "Honestly walking in with them now would be kinda awkward."


Loki's grin sharpened. "Awwww, awkward? My lil' flame? The girl who punched a dungeon boss so hard it forgot how to respawn?"


Ruby's face went crimson to the ears. "That NEVER HAPPEND! AND WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME LITTLE FLAME?!"

"Because you set the guild on fire twice." Loki responds

Ruby let out a tiny, mortified squeak—

a sound so small it probably registered only to gods, animals, and people with very specific adventurer perks.


Then she exploded into a swirl of rose petals, the gust of magic whipping Loki's hair back as Ruby fled.


"Oi—! Don't just turn inta flower confetti when I'm bein' honest!" Loki called after her, though the grin never left her face.


A few petals drifted down lazily, almost mocking her.


"Kids these days," Loki mused, catching one between her fingers. "Strong enough to level a floor… emotionally fragile enough to die at a nickname."


Behind her, Bete snorted. "She ran."


"An? Shes like stupid strong. Did you not see how big that scythe actually is? I kinda want Hephy chan to outlook at it." Loki states

========

Ruby didn't stop moving until the air grew heavy and warm, the oppressive humidity of the mid floors wrapping around her like a damp blanket. Petals scattered behind her as she re-formed, boots skidding slightly on the stone.


"WHY does she keep calling me that?" Ruby hissed to herself, clutching Crescent Rose's haft and stomping forward. "I didn't set the guild on fire. I set parts of the guild on fire. Accidentally. Twice."


A roar answered her.


Ruby perked up instantly.


"Oh, thank the gods," she sighed, relief washing through her. "Something I can hit."


An infant dragon tore out of a cracked wall ahead—massive for its age, thick skinned, jagged scales the color of volcanic rock. Its molten-orange eyes locked onto her, steam curling from its nostrils.


Ruby's expression brightened like she'd just seen a puppy.


"Ohhh my gods, you're ADORABLE."


The dragon shrieked, offended.


Ruby lifted Crescent Rose, shifting into a stance Hel drilled into her—low to the ground, center tight, scythe poised like a reaping strike.


"Okay, big guy," she exhaled. "I'm embarrassed, emotionally compromised, and in desperate need of stress relief."


The dragon charged.


Ruby's smile turned sharp.


"Perfect."

It lunged with surprising speed, claws raking the stone where she'd stood. Ruby shot upward with a burst of petals, flipping over its back. Crescent Rose's blade traced a red arc that chipped three of its dorsal scales clean off.


The dragon howled, tail whipping toward her like a battering ram.


Ruby braced—caught the tail with Crescent Rose's shaft—slid backward a few feet from sheer force—but her boots held.


"Whoa! Strong!" she grinned. "Okay, you're officially worth the cardio."


The dragon inhaled—a deep, building rumble in its chest.


Ruby twirled her scythe.


"Oh no you don't—"


It exhaled a jet of flame.


Ruby vanished in a burst of petals, reappearing on its snout mid-breath, and slammed the heel of her boot downward.


"NO FIRE BREATHING AT ME. I AM VERY FLAMMABLE."


The dragon's head cracked the floor.


Ruby hopped off, twirling Crescent Rose casually as the beast struggled to rise.


"Round two?" she asked cheerfully.


The infant dragon roared weakly.


Ruby sighed, almost disappointed. "Aww. Okay fine, I'll make it quick."


She blurred forward.


A single sweeping strike.


A shockwave rolled through the hallway as the dragon dissolved.

CRACK.


Ruby froze.


She slowly— very slowly—looked down at Crescent Rose

A hairline fracture ran along the crimson edge, glowing faintly like an offended ember.


"…oh no," she whispered.


The weapon hummed in her hands in a tone that could only be described as judgmental disappointment.


Ruby winced. "I-I know, I know! I didn't mean to! You just—he was—okay, yes, maybe that was a little excessive—"


Another soft crack.


Ruby squeaked, hugging the scythe like it was a fragile baby bird.


"PLEASE don't break!" Ruby shouts

===

"Okay… okay… don't panic… don't panic…" Ruby muttered as she half-jogged, half-teleported down the main street of Orario, clutching her scythe like a dying pet.

Hel spotted her immediately — hard not to notice a girl carrying a weapon taller than a lamppost while hyperventilating.

"Ruby," Hel greeted calmly, "you look like you murdered a dragon and then lost a custody battle."

Ruby whined. "HEL I THINK I BROKE MY BABY."

Hel rested a hand on the scythe, feeling the faint hairline fractures shivering along the divine metal. "Hm. Yes. I see the problem."

"CAN YOU FIX IT?!"

"Can't you?" Hel asks almost certain the redheaded girl had built the weapon herself.

Hel lifted a single brow. "Can't you?"


Ruby froze mid-panic, blinking. "I… I mean… I made her, yeah, but I didn't think I'd need to fix her this soon! Or ever! Or— or that I'd hit something that hard!"


"Yes. An infant dragon," Hel said flatly. "On floor eleven. A creature most adventurers treat with extreme caution."

She tilted her head. "You treated it like a fly landing on your sandwich."


Ruby made a pathetic dying-seal noise.


Hel sighed lightly — not exasperated, just the eternal calm of someone who has already accepted chaos as an ambient background noise.


"Well," Hel said, "if you want real repairs, you'll need a proper forge."


She deflated.


"But I've never done it with THIS world's materials! Or this world's forging methods! Or this world's… uh… rules! And I don't even have the right setup or tools." Ruby Rambled

 

[Common]

Hestia was outside sweeping, humming a cheerful—slightly off-key—tune when she spotted the two girls approaching.


She blinked.


Then blinked again.


Then dropped her broom.


"Hel?! YOU DESCENDED?!"


The goddess of the dead raised a polite hand. "Hello, Hestia."


Hestia's jaw worked in small, panicked flaps. "B-But—BUT—You—YOUR DOMAIN—THE DEATH—THE RULES—LOKI—WHAT—HOW—WHY—"

"Is Hephaestus in?" Hel asked, with the same tone someone might use to inquire about today's weather.

Hestia snapped out of it with a dramatic inhale. "W–WHY do you need Hephy?! Are you here to bring her to the underworld?! Are you here to—"


"No," Hel said simply. "Ruby fractured her weapon. She requires tools ranked above 'primitive.' Hephaestus is the logical option."


Ruby held up Crescent Rose like a child offering a broken toy. "It's… um… in pain."


Hestia blinked at the scythe. Then at the hairline fractures glowing along the blade. Then back to Hel.


"…Why does her weapon look like it lost a fight with a dragon?"


"That is because it did." Hel answers

Hestia froze.


Her eyes slowly… slowly… tracked back to Ruby.


Ruby, who stood there smiling like the world's guiltiest puppy.


"…Floor… eleven…?" Hestia whispered, horror blooming.


Ruby nodded.


Hel added helpfully, "The dragon died instantly."


Hestia slapped both hands onto her cheeks. "THAT'S NOT A REASSURING DETAIL!! Isn't she NEW!?"

"It was my second trip into teh dungeon." Ruby chirps

Hestia froze.


Absolutely, completely, spiritually froze.


Then she turned her head toward Hel with the slow, mechanical rigidity of someone bracing for a divine audit.


"…Second… trip…"


Ruby nodded proudly, like she had just announced getting a gold star in kindergarten.


Hel, ever helpful, added, "She also outran the Loki Familia on her way in. At petal-speed."


"P–PETAL—?!" Hestia sputtered, eyes bulging. "SHE TELEPORTED INTO THE DUNGEON BECAUSE SHE WAS EMBARRASSED?!"


Ruby fidgeted. "It wasn't teleporting, it was just… um… moving very fast


They reached the workshop door just as a burst of heat rolled out from the forge—Hephaestus was clearly in the middle of one of her "don't bother me unless you're dying" sessions.


Hestia hesitated.

"Uh… maybe we should come back later—"


Hel didn't bother knocking.

She opened the door.


Inside, Hephaestus turned mid-swing, hammer raised, sparks scattering off molten metal.


Her single visible eye landed on Ruby.


Then on Crescent Rose.


Then widened.


"…What," Hephaestus said slowly, "is that."


Ruby froze. "…M-My weapon?"


Hephaestus marched toward her like an inspector about to condemn a building.


She grabbed the scythe, turned it, twisted it, clicked one mechanism—


CHK-CHNK—VRRRRRT—CLACK


The weapon shifted, folding into rifle mode.

Hephaestus recoiled like it had tried to bite her.


"WHO MADE THIS!?" she demanded, staring at the impossible number of moving parts.


Silence.


Ruby wilted.


"…I… did…?"


Hephaestus blinked once.


Then twice.


Then a third time, as if her brain had to reboot just to process the concept of a teenager casually forging a master-grade mechashift scythe in her spare time.


Finally, she jabbed a finger directly at Ruby.


"Hel, I want her."


Ruby made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a dying kettle.


Before Hephaestus could take a single step forward, Hel smoothly wrapped an arm around Ruby's shoulders and pulled her firmly against her side — a sudden, possessive shield that radiated the cold certainty of a goddess who did not share.


"No." Hel said simply. "This is my little reaper."


Ruby blinked, going stiff as a board.


Hephaestus's good eye twitched. "Hel, you can't just— you don't even forge! You don't need a prodigy smith!"


"I need Ruby," Hel responded calmly, as if that settled the laws of the universe.


"It's not even the smith! It's the WEAPON!" Hephaestus snapped, pointing at Crescent Rose. "This thing shouldn't EXIST in this world! It— it transforms, it's made out of alloys I don't even RECOGNIZE, the weight distribution is absurd."


Hephaestus leaned in, eyes blazing. "Ruby. Ruby. Sweet child. HOW did you forge this?"


Ruby swallowed. Hard.


"Um… I… just kind of… used what I had… and improvised…? Until it worked?"


In the silence that followed, Hestia silently inhaled like she was watching a meteor fall toward Orario.


Hephaestus dragged a hand down her face.


"…Improvised," she muttered.


"Ruby has to fix it, However what if you were to provide a forge and the needed tools for her to make. A new one with better materials? You could watch her make it along with some junior smiths." Hel states


"I am going to need some precision machines to make it." Ruby responds.


"We have those. An the ones we dont. If you have the designs I can get them made." Hephastus states.


"So then are we off to the guild to get some land for my familia and a work shop for Ruby here?" Hel asks

Hephaestus stared at Hel like she'd just suggested relocating Mount Olympus using elbow grease.


"…Land?" the smith goddess echoed. "Hel. You descended five days ago."


"Correct," Hel said.


"You have enough money for land?" Hephaestus pressed, mildly shocked.


Hel tilted her head. "Hephy… I am massively wealthy."


Hestia blinked. "Then why do you keep sending every bill for everything you buy to Loki?"


Hel's expression remained serenely deadpan.


"Because it's funny."


Hestia choked. Hephaestus pinched the bridge of her nose like she suddenly understood the source of several of Loki's stress-induced migraines.


Ruby raised her hand timidly. "…S-Should we… still go to the guild?"


Hel nodded, entirely unbothered. "Yes. Let's go buy land."


"And send the receipt to Loki?" Hephaestus asked dryly.


Hel's eyes gleamed with mischief. "As much as I want to, I'll foot the bill this time."

 

[purplefox1013]

Hestia blinked. "Then why do you keep sending every bill for everything you buy to Loki?"


Hel's expression remained serenely deadpan.


"Because it's funny."

Click to shrink...

i am eagerly awaiting when loki finds out

 

[Common]

The Guild was not ready.


To be fair, no one is ever ready. Especially when Hel was involved.

The receptionist at the front desk took one look at the trio and immediately straightened like she was about to be inspected by the gods themselves.


…Which she was.


"W-Welcome to the Guild," she squeaked. "How may we assist you today?"


Hel stepped forward with the regal calm of someone asking for extra napkins.


"I require land," she said.


The receptionist blinked. "L-Land…?"


"For my familia headquarters," Hel clarified. "Also a workshop. Preferably a full forge layout with high-grade isolation wards and a hazardous-material zone."


The receptionist's quill stopped mid-scratch.

"…Wards?" she echoed slowly. "What are those?"


Hel blinked once, as if she'd forgotten other people did not simply know these things.


"Magical reinforcement barriers," she explained. "Danger-containment fields. Structural stabilizers. Noise dampeners. Heat-redirecting circuits. Anti-explosion buffers." She gestured casually toward Ruby. "She requires them."


Ruby smiled nervously. "I don't mean to explode things. It just kind of… happens."


"Those sound like very advanced magic Hel… Can you tell me more about them?" Hepestatus states

Hel turned her head toward Hephaestus, giving the goddess a calm, almost instructional look — the exact expression of a teacher deciding how much reality a student could survive in one sitting.


"They are standard," Hel said simply.


"Standard for where?" Hephaestus demanded, gesturing incredulously. "Because nothing you just listed exists in Orario."


Hel considered this for half a heartbeat.

"Huh, i guess they might not be here. Huh, Ill have to introduce them eventually then." Hel states


Hel said it with the casual tone of someone announcing she might try a new soup recipe one of these days.


The entire guild front desk went still.


Hephaestus stared at her as if Hel had just threatened to reinvent metallurgy from the ground up.


Hestia made a soft, wheezing noise in the background.


Ruby raised her hand very timidly. "…Um… Hel? What does 'eventually' mean?"


"After the paperwork, an we get the forge an the house set up. How would you like to be the first ever runesmith?" Hel asks causing Hepheastus to let out a whine.

The receptionist, who was now three seconds from a stress-induced coma, forced a shaky smile.


"W-Well! Ahaha… m-maybe we should just… um… look at available properties first…?"


Hel nodded serenely. "Yes. Bring me the listings."


The receptionist scrambled into action like her life depended on it. Within moments she returned with a thick binder labeled PROPERTY OPTIONS – ORARIO (Updated Weekly) and slapped it onto the counter with the reverence of presenting a holy text.


"O-Okay! Here we have the available buildings for purchase or renovation," she said, flipping it open. "Most familias start small, so there are modest homes, refurbished storefront properties, and several mixed-use plots—"


Hel leaned forward. "Show me the ones with the most space."


The receptionist blinked. "…Space?"


"Yes," Hel said. "Large yards. Structural freedom. Ideally something far from residential areas."


Ruby waved her hands frantically. "I'm not that dangerous!"


The receptionist did not look convinced. She began flipping through listings faster, visibly sweating.

"W-We have several unused lots at the edge of the city! They're very affordable because they're… um… extremely far from everything!"


Hel shook her head. "Too far. Ruby needs regular access to the dungeon, the guild, and normal social stimuli."


Ruby blinked. "I do?"


"Yes," Hel replied, as if this were obvious. "Otherwise you will become feral."


Ruby sputtered. "I— I'm not—"


The receptionist jumped ahead, eager to escape this topic.

"W-We also have some properties closer in! Ah— here!" She pointed frantically at a cluster on the map. "Three adjacent buildings for sale near the Hostess of Fertility!"


Hestia leaned forward. "Oh, those! They've been empty for ages. Good structures, lots of room, decent location!"


Hephaestus crossed her arms. "They'd have to come down and you would need a new building built."

Ruby perked up. "Close to the Hostess? That means food!"


Hel nodded approvingly.

"I will take them."


The receptionist froze mid-blink. "…All three?"


"Yes. I require a headquarters, a forge, and overflow space." Hel said it like she was listing groceries.


The receptionist swallowed hard. "A-All three buildings together come to—"


Hel reached into her side pouch, an pulled out a sac that was much bigger than said pouch.

The sack hit the counter with a metallic CLANNNNG, the kind of sound usually associated with someone dropping a fully armored dwarf.


The receptionist flinched hard enough to knock over her ink pot.

Hephaestus leaned over instinctively.

Hestia leaned over nosily.

Ruby leaned over because everyone else did.


The receptionist opened the sack…


…and immediately stopped breathing.


Not figuratively. Literal, spiritual freeze-frame.


Because inside was nothing but gold bars.

"Do you… do you even want to hear the price?"


"No," Hel said. "But you will give me a receipt."


The poor woman nodded with such frantic obedience she nearly sprained her neck.


She fumbled through papers with trembling fingers.

"T-The three buildings are yours, Lady Hel. We'll file the transfer immediately, a-and the deed will be delivered by courier. Please don't— I mean, thank you for your patronage."


Ruby leaned toward Hel and whispered, "Um… we could've haggled…"


Hel shook her head.

"No. The quicker it's done, the quicker you can have a safe workspace. And the quicker I can move out of my parent's place…"


Hestia blinked. "…You mean Loki?"


Hel sighed with the bone-deep exhaustion of someone who had lived through every one of Loki's shenanigans twice.


"Yes. Loki. My parent."

A beat.

"I love her. I do. But, I can tell she still is kinda scared of the prophecy acting up again. An I will indirectly kill her familia this time."

"I am the goddess of death, I am a child of Loki. I was one of the few responsible for Ragnarok, I mean it ended after Fen and Granpa died. An luckiley we didnt create the dungeon that was the greeks."

 

[Common]

Chapter 22: The inbetween

The three newly purchased buildings stood in a neat row, shutters rattling in the evening wind. Dust clung to the windows. The signs were faded. No lights. No life.


Perfectly ordinary structures.


Which meant they survived exactly three seconds.


Hel stepped onto the center plot, lifting one hand with all the ceremony of someone preparing to delete an annoying email.


Ruby watched, eyes wide.


Hestia and Hephaestus watched, eyes wider.


The guild courier—who had escorted them to finalize the deed—watched, eyes the widest.


Hel pulled out a stick, and with but a simple motion she flicked her wrist.


A pulse of black-blue magic erupted outward like a silent wave.

No sound. No flash. Just the sudden, absolute disappearance of three buildings that had existed for decades.


Poof.


The courier dropped the deed.


Hestia made the tiny squeak of a goddess experiencing her first stroke.


Hephaestus pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know most people hire demolition crews…"


"I am efficient," Hel replied.

Ruby raised a hand. "Do you, um… want help… picking up the rubble… or—"


"There is no rubble," Hel said.


Ruby blinked.

A moment later, the ground burst upward in controlled, precise waves of dark-blue magic, forming foundation lines, heat channels, ventilation structures, and a basic, sturdy forge shell. The entire skeleton of the workshop rose like a blooming flower—clean, crisp, functional.


Ruby stared.

Hephaestus stared harder.

Hestia looked shook.


When the magic settled, the forge stood complete: bare-bones, but solid, symmetrical, and built to handle temperature levels that would char lesser buildings into soot.


Hel brushed off her hands as if she'd built a sandbox.


"This is a starter forge," she said. "You and Hephaestus may fill it properly with whatever machinery you require."


Ruby stepped forward, eyes shining. "Hel… this is… this is amazing—!"


Hel opened her arms and Ruby understood the signal hugging her.

Hephaestus crossed her arms, looking half impressed, half personally attacked.

"You built a forge shell with one spell."


Hel shrugged. "It is temporary."


Ruby pulled back just enough to look Hel in the eye. "Are you gonna stay and help set up?"


"No," Hel said instantly.


Ruby blinked. "No?"


Hephaestus raised an eyebrow. "You just built an entire structure. What could you possibly need to do that's more important?"


Hel's shoulders slumped — the first sign of exhaustion Ruby had ever seen from her.

"I am tired."

======

Hel's head touched the pillow—then the world peeled away.


Colorless mist curled around her ankles, cool and weightless, moving with the slow rise and fall of something breathing. Above her stretched a sky that wasn't a sky at all, lit by a dull, directionless glow. Stairways drifted through the air with no beginning and no end, and half-formed echoes of familiar and unfamiliar places shimmered in and out of existence like memories that weren't hers.


Hel released a long, resigned sigh.


"…Of course," she muttered. "May as well have a look around again. I did promise Ruby."

Hel wandered forward, boots making no sound on the not-quite-ground beneath her. The fog curled away from her steps as though recognizing her, parting in slow, reverent spirals.


A soft chime rang out.


Hel stopped.


The mist ahead thinned, drawing back to reveal a lone figure standing with perfect stillness—hands folded, head bowed, a faint reflection on the metallic crown covering her eyes.

"Welcome, Ashen One…"


She paused.


Her head tilted—just slightly, but the motion carried a strange, intuitive understanding.


"…No. Not Ashen."

Her voice warmed with curiosity, reverence, and something close to recognition.

"You carry a presence ancient and cold… deep as the crypts beneath Lordran."


The Fire Keeper raised her sightless face toward Hel.


"It is as though Lord Nito himself walks again."

A small bow followed, graceful and unhurried.

"Then allow this Keeper of Fire to serve you, O Lord of the Grave.

How may I be of assistance in this forgotten in-between?"


Hel looks at the firekeeper an figures tehre is no harm in answering.


"I am looking for fallen heros wishing for another chance to go on an adventure. An I take them into my family."

"Fallen heroes… seeking another chance."

Her hands slowly unfolded, fingertips brushing across the air as if feeling threads Hel could not see.


"A noble wish for one who carries the weight of death itself."


She stepped closer, bare feet making no sound on the misty ground.


"Many souls linger here, Lord of the Grave. Some burned by failure, others by fate. Some wait quietly… others desperately."

A small, wistful smile touched her lips.


"But you must understand—those who come to this place do not always remember what they once were. Some souls flicker like dying embers. Some have wandered for ages."


She lifted a hand, palm up, offering—not touching.


"Tell me, Hel of the Half-Dead…" her voice carried like a whisper woven through coals, quiet yet resonant. "What sort of heroes do you seek?

Brave ones?

Broken ones?

Or simply those who still dream of wonder?"


Hel studied her for a long moment. The Fire Keeper's blindfold reflected nothing, yet Hel felt watched all the same—gently, patiently.


"…Do you yourself not wish for another chance, Fire Keeper?" Hel asked.


The woman's head tilted slightly, as though she were smiling behind the stoic calm.

"No, my lady. My purpose has been fulfilled. The Age of Fire is done—and with the last Fire Lord choosing to embrace the darkness, rather than bind this world to dying embers…" She exhaled softly, and the air shimmered like cooling ash. "I welcome the eternity that follows. As do the Ancient Dragons, who feared no dusk."


Hel blinked.


She had not noticed the shift until then.


The mist had receded, peeling back like a curtain to reveal stone arches and crumbling steps. The soft lapping of distant waves echoed where no sea should exist. The familiar bonfire sat ahead, its coals dormant, yet somehow still warm.


Firelink Shrine breathed around them—quiet, ruined, and serene. Ash drifted like slow snow through the air. The distant toll of a bell echoed once, then faded, as if the world itself were breathing in its sleep.


The Fire Keeper lowered her hand gracefully, robes whispering against the stone.


"Here, in this place between endings, many souls linger," she said. "Some long to rest. Some… yearn to rise again."

She tilted her head toward Hel, the blindfold glinting faintly with that uncanny, knowing light.

"Seek souls—greater ones, their strength unspent. Seek the King, for only through such might may you shape a path. Otherwise this land will swallow you whole, as it has so many others."


For a beat, Hel stared at her.


Then she barked out a sudden, sharp laugh.

"Honestly? I thought you were giving me a cryptic quest. 'Seek the King'? Really?"


The Fire Keeper's lips twitched—first a smile, then a small laugh of her own, quiet and musical.

"It is tradition," she confessed lightly. "We do enjoy our ominous warnings."


Hel snorted, crossing her arms. "You almost had me."


"And you, Lady Hel," the Fire Keeper said, inclining her head, "are far more delightful than any Lord of Cinder I have served."

 

[SharkCultist]

....just gonna leave this here for completely unrelated reasons.