Goddess Of The Underworld. Chapter 84

We stepped through the portal in silence. Ash fell from our shoulders as the gates of the Underworld vanished behind us, the air softening into the gentle luminescence of my mother’s home. Even here, the tension clung to us. The scent of rot. The knowledge that death no longer obeyed its borders. My grandmother walked ahead, her posture stiff with purpose, her layered silks trailing like storm clouds. She had said little since returning. But her silence was not ignorance, it was strategy. Mum met us in the crystalline hall, flanked by her advisors and a quiet sort of dread. Her eyes searched mine. “So it’s true.”

I nodded. “You felt it too, didn’t you?”

“There’s a ripple,” she admitted. “Even here. The tides of magic are shifting. The realm is resisting it, but the cracks are widening.”

“Then we don’t have time,” I said.

Grandmother’s voice was cool. “No, we don’t. Which means your next moves must be exact. You’re no longer just rulers or heirs. You’re gatekeepers now, of something older than life and stronger than death.”

We moved into the war chamber, a room of floating crystal maps, living threads of magic pulsing like veins across the sky-dome ceiling. Layah whistled low as a glowing model of the realms assembled midair: the Mortal Realm, the Underworld, and the divine kingdoms of our kind.

“The Veil isn’t just one layer,” Haiden said, tracing the map. “It’s latticed. Interwoven across realms.”

“And every thread weakening opens a pathway for corruption,” Levi added, placing a mark over the Underworld valley. “Some of these souls were never meant to return. If the wrong ones slip free…”

“They won't just haunt the living,” Xavier said darkly, “they’ll hunt them.”

Noah stepped beside me, fire flickering in his gaze. “So what’s the plan, Goddess?”

I exhaled, then turned to face them fully. “We need to find the other cloaked children. The ones Marcus and Salira used in the convergence ritual. They’re keys to this, alive or dead.”

Mum tensed. “You think they're still alive?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But even their bones would carry power. They were made like me, hidden by blood magic. If the veil is weakening, their locations may be surfacing.”

Layah stood. “So we split up."

“I want to start with the grave sites,” I said. “Some of the corrupted were whispering names, like they remembered them. Maybe they were drawn to those children.”

“We’ll need a tether,” Levi said. “Something to stabilize your realm while we search. Otherwise, it could collapse behind us while we're scattered.”

Grandmother gave him a sharp look. “Then the Goddess must choose her anchor.”

All eyes turned to me.

I didn’t hesitate. “Xavier.”

He blinked. “Me?”

“You’re the one whose magic is shadowbound to mine. You understand the foundations of my realm the most. While I’m away, you’re my pulse there.”

A pause, and then he nodded, jaw set with reluctant understanding. “Then I’ll hold the gates.”

Mum stepped forward then, reaching into the folds of her robe and drawing out an object I hadn’t seen before, a jagged obsidian shard, laced with gold veins.

“The last Oracle Mirror,” she said. “Cracked in the uprising. But if there’s truth to be glimpsed, it will show you.”

I took it carefully, feeling its chill race up my arm.

“It’s time to find out what was hidden,” I said softly. “Time to finish what Marcus started, and destroy whatever’s trying to finish it for him.”

Everyone in the room nodded, one by one. This was the start of war.

We planned methodically, the weight of what was coming pressing down on every breath we took. The chamber buzzed with layered magic and quiet resolve, the floating map of realms flickering as we divided responsibilities not just by skill, but by trust. This wasn't about power anymore. It was about belief. About who we would bleed for. Xavier and Layah would remain behind, our final line of defense and the ones who could tether the Underworld long enough to keep the veil from shattering. Their combined magic, his dark soul-forged shadowbinding, her ancient elemental essence, would reinforce the bones of the realm, creating a warded cocoon that would buy us time.

“Protect the gates,” I told them, meeting Xavier’s eyes first, then Layah’s. “If anything gets through, don’t hesitate. Not even for me.”

“You know I won’t,” Xavier said, his voice like crushed stone.

Layah gave a wry smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’ll hold the walls, Goddess. Just make sure you don’t die while we do.”

Levi and Haiden volunteered to chase the echoes, the graves, the names whispered by the corrupted souls. Some were just fragments, others full names buried deep in lost records. They’d trace them like bloodhounds across multiple realms if they had to. Each grave might hold a thread of truth… or power. Or danger.

“They were cloaked for a reason,” Levi warned as he packed his runes and knives. “That kind of concealment doesn’t fade. It fights. If we’re disturbing old magic, i'll need backup.”

“You have it,” Haiden said, cracking his knuckles with a grin that didn’t match the tension in his shoulders. “Let’s dig up some secrets.”

That left me and Noah, the most dangerous mission of them all. We were going back to the beginning. Back to the heart of the Tolaris pack. To the rot beneath their legacy.

“We’re not just sneaking in this time,” I said, tapping the glowing mark on the map where the pack house stood. “We’re breaking through every barrier they’ve hidden behind. Magical, physical, political. Marcus’ underground layer holds the truth, not just about me, but about all of this. The children. The spell. The bloodlines. The door.”

“The one beneath the chamber,” Noah muttered, jaw tight.

I nodded. “The one they used me to open.”

We’d seen only glimpses of it, a stone threshold embedded in blood and salt, sealed with glyphs in a language even my mother struggled to translate. Every time I tried to remember, pain laced through my head like a migraine wrapped in lightning. But now? I wasn’t afraid of remembering. I was afraid of what we’d find once we did.

“We go in fast,” Noah said. “Silent if we can. Loud if we have to.”

I smiled faintly. “It’s always loud with us.”

He didn’t smile back. Just reached for the twin daggers he kept holstered at his sides, like he was already imagining who he’d bury them in.

“I want answers,” he said. “And I want to look that bastard in the eye when we rip this apart.”

So we set it in motion.

Four threads. Four missions. One unraveling truth.

If we were wrong, it could doom us all.

But if we were right?

It would break the curse that’s been binding us in blood since the day I was born.

And finally, we’d see exactly what Marcus has been hiding under the weight of a legacy built on stolen magic and silenced screams.