The Reviver’s Passage: The 1st Meeting with An Odd Traveller Years Prior

The Revivers' Passage - Ch.9
The Reviver’s Passage: Chapter IX
By: Prappies

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. The two avoided each other like the plague. But Hestia could feel his cold gaze pierce through her, even when she wasn’t looking. 

She herself refused to even look at him, for fear that his anger would reinvigorate. 

The god sat to the side as Hestia ate dinner. The rice rations she had packed were beginning to get very low. Hestia figured it would last a few more days at most. 

Hestia froze, because once more she felt the god’s gaze land on her, like it had multiple times that evening before. 

But instead of a snarl coming from his mouth (as what had happened every time before), she heard a heavy sigh emanate from him. 

From the corner of her eye, she saw him rise from where he stood. She felt him slide in beside her. 

“We can’t keep this up. We need to continue practicing our coordination. Take a rest today, tomorrow we will continue,” the god stated, his voice was strict. As if he was forcing himself to say what he wanted to say, battling against his true feelings of anger and annoyance. Which was probably what was happening. 

Hestia made no comment. 

The god sighed. 

“Look,” the god was not looking at her. He looked straight to the ground.
“For what it’s worth… I’m sorry I said all that. I lost my cool, ok? It’s going to take a while to get used to all this. I’m sorry, I should know better.” 

Hestia continued to stuff her face with rice, not giving him an answer until her plate was empty. She chewed her last mouthful of rice slowly, staring into the now empty plate. Only when she was finished, did she turn to look at the god. 

“Why are you doing this?” she asked him. 

The god looked confused. “I’m sorry?”

“Why are you doing this? Fighting your brothers… all this… dealing with me when I can’t do anything you require of me. Why are you doing this?”

“I already told you. I was banished by my father. This will allow me to return home… and once more become my father’s son, and my brothers’ brother. That is why I am doing this.” 

“You must really want that… to be able to deal with me this long,” laughed Hestia. 

“As I said before, everything I yelled at you had been said in the heat of the moment. I spoke many falsehoods and I apologize. We will complete our individual goals. I have hope in you and me.” 

Hestia smiled. 

“I think we will get it solved soon. Go to bed with a clear head. Even if it takes 5 months… We will complete our mission. 

And that night, when Hestia went to bed, laid her head on the log at their camp, Hestia would not find sleep immediately. Instead, memories flooded through her, taking advantage of her despair and loneliness. Her memories started from the very beginning. 



The memory started 10 years ago, an image of me walking through the bustling town. I was around 17 years of age, with a basket filled with knives and swords strung to my back, pockets empty of any and all money, save for a few measly coins. I whisked my way through the crowd, trying my absolute hardest not to gain any attention to myself. I felt the eyes of much older men peer over my, not in a crude creepy way, but in a more dark dangerous one. They eyed me, lips pursed, as I pushed past through them. Their eyes were bloodshot from alcohol or drugs, whatever it had taken. 

Perhaps they were wondering if I would be a good target to rob… if they attempted to rob me, they would quickly find out that they would be false. The only thing I had on me were the clothes on my back and the pot in my arm. 

I lived alone in the shack by the river, far from this village. I had taken the boat and rowed myself to the outskirts, parked the boat and had gotten out. This had been one of my weekly trips to the village for supplies. 

I came across numerous stalls selling lackluster goods. Meat that looked so old that Hestia was sure it was in its decaying process. Fruits almost all black, and artisan crafts breaking apart. Nevertheless, all the stalls were packed with people looking to buy whatever came cheapest, even the most hideous of food and items. 

I was in a boat similar to them. Food was suddenly not easy to come by as of recent, so a blacksmith who sold very few and mediocre looking knives, swords, and other metal tools, had to be very wary of what they bought. I did not have the skill in smithery as I do now, experience came with the years. The 17 year old me was far less experienced than I am today. 

I was also very much alone in a new place. And I was scared. 

Nothing much happened for a long good while. I took out a knife and began to show people my handiwork, while charging very little for them. No one really paid me much attention. The knives were very crippled: their shape wonky, edges dull. Not something someone so low on money would want to buy, unless it was the only thing they could afford. 

I had no skills in selling stuff so I awkwardly went up to random people and began speaking to them. But I had been nervous, consistently stuttering over my words, jumbling my b’s and d’s, along with s’s and c’s up. People began to avoid me. When they saw me near them, they picked up their speed, dragging along an unbalanced child or spouse. 

Those who did not ignore me, chose to scorn me. Some men spat in my face, some women swore at me. One man even threw his shoe at me. The village people had been cruel. Very, very cruel since necessities had become scarce. Anger, violence, and hopelessness had flooded the areas I had once found much bliss in. 

After three hours of this, the sun had begun to dip over the horizon. The blue afternoon sky dipped, as a darker shade took over. The sun gave off several hues of orange and yellow, which too were slowly disappearing, leaving only black in its wake. 

As the sky turned dark, the market dwindled down. People settled in for the night, running into their homes so as not to get caught by any late night rowdies or thieves looking for an easy target.

I now know that not returning to my boat, as soon as the night turned a shade darker, had been foolish. A stupid idea. 

I was desperate; I was hungry. I had not eaten all day and would not be able to unless I had some money. I stayed out in the dark for a little longer. Thinking to myself that I would only stay out until the night turned lapis, but when the sky turned lapis, and no one had still come, I figured I could stay until the sun dipped out of sight. When the sun dipped out of sight, I waited for the sky to turn ash, and only after looking at the abandoned streets around me, with only the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, did I finally choose to leave. 

I took a back alley. Watching the memory over again in my mind, I wonder how I thought it had been a good idea. 

A deep-low whistle interrupted my thoughts. 

I turned around to see the outline of two men. They walked closer and closer to me, one was slouched while the other was standing upright with his hands in his pocket. The one slouching was carrying a knife.

I gripped my basket a little tighter.

“Can I help you?” I asked. My hands were shaking as I spoke. I took a few deep breaths and bit my lip. I forced myself to sound confident, to hide my fear, to put up a facade to show these two I guessed to mean no good, that I was not a good target. But of course I had been small, young, and alone. Nothing I could’ve done (at least then) could have deterred them.

“Can you show us your bag please sweetheart?” Asked one of them. 

“There is nothing for you inside my basket,” I had answered. The knives in my bag were my livelihood, I could not afford to lose them. 

I had been unlucky enough to have put all my knives away into the basket, I didn’t have any weapons readily available at that moment to help me get out of this situation. I could not reach into my basket without alerting the men.

“I’m sure there is something of slight interest to us in there. Even if there isn’t, you yourself would suffice,” said the slouching man. I noticed that in his hands was a long piece of rope. 

Not knowing what else to say, I squeaked out “Not really.” 

The slouching man was now close enough that I could see his teeth when his lips parted in a sinister smile. They were yellow and crooked. 

They inched closer and closer, and I could see no way of escape. No small tunnel to run through, or gap between them. Even if there had been a gap, I don’t think I would’ve had the strength the push past them. 

I was stuck and had nowhere else to go. 

The lanky man grabbed my basket from my arms and pulled hard. My knives fell to the floor, clattering as they hit the ground. The lanky man looked confused.

“What are those?” He asked, reaching down. 

But I was quicker. I grabbed one of the knives and had risen to my feet before he had even brushed his fingers against one. In my haste and panic… I stabbed him.

But in my haste and my panic, I had not been looking where I had stabbed him. 

My knife lodged itself in his shoulder, then the man howled in agony as he stepped back from me. He slowly fell to the ground, ramming into walls and chairs sprawled around in the alleyway before hitting the ground with a thud. 

His partner rushed in forward, past him and slapped me across the face. As I recoiled from the pain, his hand had curled into a fist and slammed into the side of my ribcage.

Over and over again he hit, each hit harder than the last. He swore loudly with each punch, sounding much like an echo of each hit. 

My hands found his shoulder blades, and I gave him a harsh push. I managed to render him off balance as he tripped backwards. Before he could regain himself, I sent my own flurry of punches. The first to his face, the second to his throat, the third to his own rib cage and so on. Looking for a new open spot I could effectively attack. 

Suddenly I felt something bash against the back of my head. I could see splinters fly everywhere in my peripheral vision, which was slowly going black. My head throbbed and my vision blurred. A put a hand to the back of my head and pressed against it. I felt a prickle of pain go throughout me. I brought the hand back in front of me and noticed a pool of blood dripping down my hand. 

I laughed. The blood began to merge with my hand as my sight dimmed. I could not tell which was my hand and which was my blood. Concrete lines of the world fused together, turning fuzzy as the colors blended into each other.

I turned around and saw what seemed to be the lanky man behind me. In his hands were the remains of whatever he had used to hit me. Perhaps it was a chair. I don’t know.

Taking advantage of my delirium, the man with the rope wrapped it around me, tying it tight around my arms and my waist. He tied the knot behind my back, and then knocked me to the ground. My head slammed against a trash barrel, my pain soared. The lanky man scoffed in anger, and kicked me in my stomach. I grunted. 

“Filthy…” and he began to call me words that went in one ear and out the other. “Making our job so difficult huh?” He gave me a firm kick to the abdomen to further his point. 

“Do we just drag her off?” Asked the man who had tied me up. 

“Yeah, you’re bigger than me so just throw her over your shoulder and follow me. We have to avoid the police running around town. I refuse to have gone through all that just to be arrested at the end of the night.” the lanky man said as he touched his jaw. He hissed. 

“Fair point,” said the one who had tied me up. He grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder in one single move. “How should we get back to the boat?”

“Well we could go…” 

“Excuse me!” said a new voice. I could not see anything, the only view I got was the backside of my kidnappers. I could hardly make out his voice from the buzzing in my ears. 

The kidnappers turned around very quickly, caught by surprise. 

I heard the new man walk closer to us, his footsteps were loud and heavy against the ground. 

“Is everything alright over there?” asked the voice. The new voice had a cheery countenance to it, the voice was warm but loud. 

“What do you want?” asked the lanky man. He walked in front of me and the man with the ropes, covering us from the view of the new man. 

“I thought I heard a commotion. I came to check it out. Is everything alright over there?” the man repeated, this time his voice was slow but had taken on a firmer tone. 

“Everything is fine here, please move on,” said the lanky man with forced sweetness. 

“If that is the case, why is there an injured young girl thrown over your shoulder?” said the voice.

The silence that followed was so quiet that I could hear a water tap dripping water, the droplets hitting the floor with soft splashes. 

Then I heard the sound of running, something running away from us, which was followed by the sounds of a skirmish. Loud grunts, clothes scraping against another, and the sounds of hands being thrown. The man holding me up took a few steps back, his grip on my legs tightening. I could hear his breathing turn ragged and fast, his hand shook. 

I heard a final grunt from the fight between this new man and my kidnapper. A thud quickly followed. The man with the rope stood eerily still, so still that I feared that my kidnapper had won his fight with the new man. My heart sank, my mind making up all sorts of situations that would occur in my near future since these men had won. 

I would be shipped off to some far away town, sold as a slave to a family who would torture me the rest of my life, I would spend the next 40 years…

“Do I have to ask you personally sir?” said the voice of the new man. 

I dropped to the ground, letting out a yelp of surprise. My hands were still tied behind my back, I could not do much save for laying on my stomach, trying not to focus on the pain in my chin which now had a gash from the fall. 

I turned my head and watched my second captor run for it. He sprinted at full speed past the man and turned a corner out of my view. The new man made no effort to stop him.

The lanky man gave another grunt, as he moved to his knees.

“Stay down,” ordered the new man softly, digging his toes into his ribs. The lanky man returned to the ground. 

The man moved towards me, and grabbed the ropes wrapped around my hands. I felt him tug at the ropes a few times softly. He tutted from somewhere above me, not wanting to crane my neck to look at him, I just stayed still. 

To my utter astonishment, he pulled at my ropes once more but with much more force. The rope ripped straight in half. I pulled my arms away from him and pushed the rest of the rope off, letting it fall to the ground in a circle around my body. 

I rubbed my arms, nursing newly swollen injuries, and turned to look at my savior. It was too dark to see much of anything, there was no light illuminating the alleyway and my mind was still reeling from the sudden kidnapping. 

He pulled me to my feet, grabbing my arm, and yanking me up with a gentleness that surprised me. When I was firm on my own two feet,  he dusted my shoulders off of any dirt and grime. He gave me a sparkling smile as he spoke directly to me.

“Are you ok?” he asked, he bent his head down slightly so he could look into my eyes. And when I looked into his eyes, I could not help but notice the soft green-hazel color of his eyes. With the minimal light in the alleyway, somehow I was still able to make that out. His voice was a low sounding thrill, his words came out in a slow succession, each of his words sweetly transitioning into the next.  They would become a sight and a sound I would become very accustomed to. 

I nodded, using my hands to pat away the dust from my stomach and side. “Yes, they didn’t do too much damage to me fortunately.” 

My sides were in agony from the barrage of kicks my captor had thrown upon me, but the man had done enough to help me. I do not need him to worry about me further, it would be highly impolite. The new man, on the other hand, did not share my sentiment. He looked me up and down, clearly catching me in my lie, as my hands wrung around each other, and my balance was on my right foot, as my left had been damaged. 

He smiled down at me, and grabbed my arm, throwing it over his shoulder. He led me out the alleyway, as I limped in accordance with his steps. We walked down the finally empty street in an almost silence. I limped along awkwardly as he hummed a tune under his breath. Suddenly, I realized I don’t know where he is taking me, he had been leading me along for the past few minutes, walking with purpose as he took twists and turns without any hesitation. 

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, in between breaths. He turned back to me, ceasing his humming as he answered me.

“I’m taking you to the town doctor. You are in desperate need of medical assistance and I’m sure he can give it to you, as that is what doctors do” he said plainly.  

I nodded at him. But he continued on. But this time his voice took a firmer tone, replacing the sweet caring one he had shown me before.

“What were you doing at this time of night? Walking all alone in an empty town on an empty road?” He looked to the sky, the night had turned it a dark dark black. Not a star was in the sky, not a single light of brightness. 

“I was trying to sell my metal tools for some money.” I reached over my shoulder in an attempt to grab my basket which is usually there. My hand instead came in contact with nothing, my fingers swung through the air grasping onto nothing except oxygen. My heart dropped. 

“My bag… my basket… I left it in the alleyway in my rush.” I felt panic rise once more in my heart. Those knives, even as deformed and ugly as they were, my livelihood. I could not afford to lose even one. 

The man must’ve seen the panic on my face, because his tone simmered down immediately.

“I’ll return to the alleyway to collect your stuff. Don’t worry about it. Your knives will return to your hands and your hands alone.”

I frowned. “No, there is no need, I can get them myself.” I made to remove my arm from around his shoulder, but the man’s grip on me tightened further. 

“In this state, you cannot return. Let me take you to the doctor and sort it out myself. Please dear.” He flashed me another smile which would have won awards had it been in a contest. I found myself wavering, and let him lead me on. 

“Alright,” I said. 

And so I followed him without protest. 

The doctor was a small, older man. He wore a white coat, ragged and crinkled with years of use. His lips were pulled into a firm line as he took my arm in his hands. His eyes scanned over the cuts on my arms, the bruises on my stomach, and the raggedness of my breathing. 

After taking a cursory glance over me, he told the new man that while the injuries were serious, they were not life threatening. I would heal just fine, but I would need to stay under supervision for a short amount of time. 

The man left to get my knives. He slammed the door as he left, the doctor gave the air that he had been standing in a dirty look before looking at me. He bandaged me up, wrapping a gauze around my arm and legs, alternating the hand he was holding the gauze in to make it easier. When he was done with taking care of whatever injuries he could at that moment and had told me to rest, the man had returned. A large basket resting on his shoulders.

He threw the basket down next to my bed, a loud thud reverberated through the floor surprising both me and the doctor. The doctor yelled a curse at him that I did not catch, the man ignored him.

He sat down next to me. 

“Feeling any better?” He asked, he placed a finger on my arm, dragging it down, feeling the wounds that were hidden under layers of bandages.

“Yes, I am feeling much better now. Thank you.” I said smiling. He answered me with a smile in return. “I just realized. I never did learn your name. Can you tell me?”

The smile on his face fell. He turned away from me. Worried that I had offended the man somehow, I was about to tell him to forget it. But then I noticed his smile had not been replaced by a look of reproach, but a more hard, thoughtful look, like he was thinking of an answer to my one-worded, simple question. It took a few odd seconds, but then he gave me a name.

“Wally.” he said. “My name is Wally.”

I greeted him and said my own name, to which he said I had a very pretty name. 

The rest of the conversation began to go blurry within my dream, like my mind was not finding those small moments relevant enough. I seemed to say something, and he seemed to reply. But I do not know what was exchanged between us. Until finally, my mind deemed the next events relevant enough to be thoroughly dreamt. 

The conversation took a shift to the man in front of me. “Where are you from?” I chose to ask him.

“A far off land,” he said. “Not near here. I was passing by, but I do intend on staying in this town for a while. A couple months maybe before continuing on.” he said. 

“Where are you staying?” I asked, I gripped my leg where I felt a sudden jarring sensation of pain wash over.  

“I am figuring it out right now, I have no place yet for me to stay. I might camp around outside with the beggars,” he joked. He stopped laughing when he saw my aghast face. His face turned slightly serious, but there was still some mirth hidden in the creases of his cheeks. “I am a traveler, not a rich merchant.”

“Why don’t you stay at my house?” the words rolled off my tongue with such ease, that surprised me almost as much as the fact I had offered my house to him. 

“Sorry?” he asked after a stunned silence. 

As odd an offer as it was, I was not about to take it back. Even if I had said it without fully understanding the words coming out of my mouth. My house stood far from any civilization, be it a  town, village. I was young, and I was lonely. Any opportunity to interact with another human being was an opportunity I immediately grasped, even if the opportunity came in the form of an odd but kind man who had saved my life. 

Perhaps another woman would not have done this, they would’ve never opened their mouth and said just a lecherous proposal. An unmarried young girl with an old man, who made no notion of being married himself. Had I any more sense than I had at that  immediate moment I too would not have made the offer. But the offer, when he accepted, would change my life in ways I would never have guessed.

But the only thing that mattered at that very moment was the man’s imperceptible nod when accepted my proposition. I told him my house was a ways away from here, and he was ok with it. He had just wanted a place to settle down for a while before continuing on. My home would give him that.

I joked to him that he could stay an entire year at my house if he so wanted. He laughed along.

And somewhere along the way, his few months turned to 10 years. When the “couple” months time period had passed, neither of us had made any notion of changing our “little” life here by the river. He would help fish for meat, and I would cook. He helped gather metals for my work, and I smelted. 

Nothing “lecherous” happened between us, as what the surrounding villagers and townspeople would call our act. But even with that it took 2 years for them to understand that we were doing nothing wrong, and it was time for them to look away. 

Of course, part of the reason the man never left was my fear of loneliness, and Wally’s sickness. But that wouldn’t come for a while. 


The morning came quickly, the god and Hestia rose to the sunless underworld dark red sky. Well more like the god slapped her back to wake her, when he believed she had enough rest.

“What? I-Why do you keep waking me up so early,” protested Hestia groggily.

“The average human needs 8 hours of sleep to properly function. I merely woke you up after 8 hours had passed,” defended the god, mildly confused. 

“The average human doesn’t go on suicidal missions with a god of the underworld to bring a dead man back to life.” She pointed out. “I think I deserve a few extra hours of sleep.” 

The god placed a finger to his chin, mimicking the action of being lost in thought. Before he grinned a goofy little grin. He grabbed Hestia’s shirt collar and dragged her out. Hestia reacted with a yelp of surprise. 

“No. We start now.” 

He hauled her to her feet, before jamming his hand into her back. Hestia, from the corner of her eye, could see him become a small wisp of blue light before going inside her.

Helllllllllooooooooooo! Hestia heard the god’s ecstatic voice inside her mind. 

“Yes, yes, yes… We’ve been through this multiple times before…” Hestia rolled her eyes. “Also you left my sword in the tent.”

Hestia went back to her tent and grabbed her sword, annoyed with the dramatic wake up by the god, ending with him forgetting the most important part of the fight… the sword. 

Hestia walked around looking for attacking souls. Most of the souls she came across regarded her for a second before sauntering away slowly. They looked at the ground, with their arms around their body. 

It was a sad sight. 

They had to go a bit closer to Animus’s castle when they came across their first bad soul. The soul noticed them first of course. Hestia only realized this when she felt the god’s heartbeat spike. 

Behind you…” said the god. “Relax and loosen yourself. Leave the wheels to your body, to me.” 

Relax… loosen up. Let, the god, do the work. 

She took his words to his heart. As she felt her grip on the sword loosen, her stance weakened… only to be undone by the god himself as he gained control of her body. 

The soul came closer and closer, much like all the times before. 

Ok, so the god likes to do last minute slashes and attacks. I have to be prepared. I need to put my trust in the god inside me. Don’t close your eyes Hestia… open them, relax. Open them, keep them open… keep them open. 

And she did just that. 

For the very first time, Hestia gave all her trust to the god she met only days prior. She put her life in his hands, and let her control him. 

And once more she felt her limbs move, independent of her mind. But this time, she chose to trust the god. And this time, the movement of her swings, and the steps of her legs felt natural. She was no longer battling him for dominance of her body. She relaxed and let him do all the work. 

YES! DEAR CHILD! YES! Perfect! Relax, trust me… FINALLY! The god said inside her, elation pumping through his veins (or was it her veins since they were in the same body?). 

The excited god’s words were enough to fuel Hestia with determination. She found herself grinning maniacally as her sword cut off the soul’s head. 

Hestia slid backwards, after cutting off the head. She watched the soul in amusement as it shrieked in annoyance, as its body looked for the decapitated head. The soul was crouching and patting the ground like a hard-of-seeing man looking for his glasses. When he found the head, he walked off without putting it back on. 

An interesting sight…well we have to continue practicing. Let’s look for some more scarier monsters. Let’s work our way up to the beast you nearly died to earlier. How about it?

Hestia winced in embarrassment. “You have zero tact do you?”

I merely said a fact. If you keep at this we could challenge Animus in a few days time!” said the god.

“We are going very quickly here aren’t we…” said Hestia. 

We need to defeat 3 gods, and my father. We need to do this quickly. There is much to fear if we don’t do this quickly.

Hestia stopped, and looked confused. “We have much to fear?”

The god stopped mid-sentence. 

“Hey… what do you mean by ‘much to fear?’ what is going on?” panic seeped into her voice. Her eyes were wide with fear. 

Don’t worry about it. Look we have to practice and soon we will be able to fight Animus. Anything else is a minor detai-

“God.” She said firmly, that even the god fell silent under her hardened glare. 

“What… is there… to fear… if we don’t do this quickly?” Hestia asked with a cold calmness, enunciating every word. Her eyes drifted upwards to the sky. 

The god stumbled on his next words. “Look- child – Hestia you are overthinking this. There is nothing wrong… there is nothing going on…

“Hey…,” Hestia once more reiterated. “I think you should come out, and that we should have a little talk. I am beginning to believe that you are hiding something…”

The god was about to protest, but he felt him lose control of his vessel. He sighed and exited her through her back. Hestia turned around and stared at him down. The god, unsure of what to do now, decided on a goofy smile. 

“Look… we both have our motives. Let’s just keep it at that…” the god tried to reason. 

“Buddy… you can’t hit me with the ‘we have much to fear if this doesn’t go well, and then dip!’”

“Well. I said something out of turn, there is nothing wrong going on. Let’s drop this… and…”

“We are not going to drop this!” gritted Hestia.

“Do you wanna save your friend?!” yelled the god. “Do you want to save Wally?”

Hestia stuttered. 

“You’re trying to blackmail me!” she accused. 

“Look, keep your mind on your problems, and I’ll keep my mind on my problems. We should both have a one track mind.”

“What problems do you have? You know my reason for being here, you know my problems, it’s only fair that I know your prob-”

“ENOUGH!” Screamed the god at the top of his lungs. When he yelled, a jet of wind coming from his body slammed Hestia. She fell to the ground in surprise. She looked up at the god’s face in fear.

The god took a few breaths in, and calmed himself. He looked down at the frightened young woman with a regretful expression on his face. He reached his hand down, offering it to her. She slapped it away, before getting up and storming back to their camp. 

The god made no attempt to intercept her, and merely trudged after her. 

At the camp, the two sat next to each other. Hestia ate a small bit of rice, adamantly ignoring him. They sat like that for a good 10 minutes before the god had had enough. 

“Look, let’s forget this happened and move on, ok? We have a job to do. You need to get Wally back home safely…” he attempted to appease her. 

Hestia continued eating her rice without answering. The god sighed. 

“Look, I’ll tell you later… I can’t tell you right now due to reasons. Please trust me with this. I promise on my head that I will tell you eventually.” 
Hestia was silent for a few more seconds before answering. 

“Ok, but I will not drop this. I will resurface this conversation again.” She stated harshly. The god grinned. 

“Your terms are acceptable.” 

And the two shook on it. And the deal was made. 



The god was ecstatic. Beyond ecstatic. Yes, Hestia and him had been fighting, and were not on the best of terms with each other due to the whole “there is much to fear” fiasco. But, neither let that get in the way of their mission.

The god was sighing multiple sighes of relief, he wouldn’t have to explain anything to her for now. 

Hestia was giving him her full trust of her body. He figured that even she was hesitant to fully trust him due to his little slip up. But she truly wanted to rescue Wally from the underworld, so she pushed it aside for now. 

The two had moved to fighting large-soul-clump-monsters (as Hestia put it, since she couldn’t come up with a better name for he huge monsters). Hestia had flinched up multiple times, but kept her cool. The god was thankful. 

On the night of the 9th day, the god exited the woman, who turned around in surprise. She was not expecting him to call it a day so soon. She was even more puzzled at the grin on his face.

“I think,” he started. “We are ready to fight Animus.”

Hestia spluttered. “What? Already?!”

“Well, your strength in fighting is not very important. It’s how well we can work together. How well you trust me with your body, and how well I can commandeer your body.  And I think, that we are successful in that goal. I think we would be fools to waste time any further. Tomorrow, early morning, we will leave and go on to our next destination. The Castle of Animus.”

The god let out a loud laugh at the horrified expression on Hestia’s face. He put his hand on her head as he turned away. 

“Have a good night’s sleep. We’ll go when you awake.”

He then took her leave, leaving her stunned and taken aback.

<– The Reviver’s Passage: Chapter VIII                                                                                                                        The Reviver’s Passage: Chapter X –>

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