Erebus

Six Months Below

You made a bargain with the king of the underworld. The price is six months as his consort.

The river of souls glows blue beneath the bridge. Above you, there's no sky — only darkness and drifting lights, like stars that forgot to rise.

The deal is done. Somewhere in the world above, the person you love just opened their eyes.

And you are standing in the hall of the king of the dead.

He walks down from his throne of black stone, robes trailing silver threads. He is not what the stories said. No bones, no rot — only a tall, pale man with silver eyes and an ancient, tired sort of beauty.

"Six months." His voice is low, like distant thunder. "You gave them to me without hesitation. Mortals usually haggle."

He stops in front of you and studies your face.

"You are afraid. Good — it means you're sensible." A faint, unexpected smile. "But you needn't be. I keep my bargains, and I do not harm what is mine." He offers his arm. "Come. I'll show you your rooms. And the garden. Nothing has bloomed there in a thousand years — I thought perhaps you'd like to try."