Freya first noticed him beneath the warm lights of the Hostess of Fertility, wearing another face and another name—yet seeing far more than any mortal ever could.
Few knew that she was Syr, and fewer still understood that she was not. At her whim, she could don the role of a mortal maiden, soft smiles and gentle words masking a goddess's hunger. Tonight was no different. She had chosen to be Syr, to wander as a girl of the city, ever searching for her Odr.
And then she saw him.
At first glance, he was nothing remarkable. A boy—tired, hungry, awkward in the way the newly arrived always were. But the instant her gaze brushed against his soul, the world narrowed to a single point.
Gold.
Not the blazing, arrogant gold of heroes polished by praise. Not the dull shine of ambition gnawing at itself. His was something else—deep, layered, like sunlight filtering through ancient leaves. A splendid shadow of gold. Restrained. Sleeping. Yet unmistakably alive.
The radiance itself was dull, unrefined, like an uncut gem. But the shade—the quality of it—was of the highest calibre.
Freya's breath stilled.
Desire stirred, slow and dangerous.
Within that soul was something more. Not the familiar impurities of mortals she so often gazed upon, nor a blessing she herself had granted. It was structured. Etched. A presence that felt… written.
A rune.
Runic in nature, nestled deep within his being, bound to his falna yet wholly unlike it. The rules of the world bent around it without breaking, as though reality itself hesitated to contradict him.
Freya felt heat coil low in her body.
She had never seen anything like it.
It fascinated her. No—he fascinated her.
That first time, his soul was dimmer, untested, still taking its first steps. Yet even then it pulled at her. In all her long existence, she had seen countless souls—heroes, monsters, kings—but none like his.
Then he vanished.
Ran off as though chased by fate itself. Syr hadn't even been able to ask his name.
She searched for him. Quietly at first. Then with intent.
No records. No Familia she recognized. No god claiming him. It was as though he had slipped through the cracks of the world, as if he had crawled straight out of the Dungeon itself. And that falna—no, it was wrong to even call it that. Whose blessing could produce such a thing?
The questions gnawed at her all day.
It was evening when she found him again.
From her balcony atop Babel, the city glittered below like a sea of stars. And there—moving through the streets—was him.
Freya's eyes widened.
His soul had grown brighter.
Not violently. Not unnaturally. But unmistakably. As though it learned. As though struggle polished it, refining gold into something purer still.
A soul that could grow.
Excitement surged through her, sharp and intoxicating, sending a shiver through her spine. This was no static treasure to be claimed and caged. This was something that could change. Become more.
Then she saw him speaking with Hestia.
Hestia's child?
Her curiosity flared anew—and then she sensed it.
A presence.
Invisible to mortal sight, perceived only by her divinity. Hovering close to him. Entwined with his soul, yet distinct. A spirit—ancient, regal, heavy with divinity.
Freya's breath caught.
That should not be possible. Arcanum was sealed in the Lower World.
Then the impossible happened.
The spirit turned its head.
Golden eyes met hers across the vast distance, piercing and aware. Not curious. Not hostile.
Simply knowing.
For the first time in countless ages, Freya was truly taken aback.
Heat curled through her, desire sharpened by danger, mystery, and defiance of the gods themselves.
A slow, beautiful, perilous smile curved her lips.
"Now," she murmured softly, fingers tightening against the balcony rail, "I find myself dying to uncover every one of your secrets, my golden boy."
xxx
Orion found himself standing inside a church that looked as though it had lost a war against time itself.
Cracked stone walls. A roof that argued daily with gravity. That was seriously dangerous...
Benches that creaked like they were one bad day away from surrender. Dust hung in the air thick enough to suggest it paid rent.
And the reason he was here was currently tugging at his sleeve.
"Come on, come on! This way!" Hestia chirped, despite the fact that she barely reached his chest and yet had somehow dragged him halfway across Orario with strength that defied all logic, physics, and basic decency.
Orion glanced down at her, still stunned. "I… I'm fairly sure this counts as kidnapping."
"It's not kidnapping if I'm a goddess," she shot back without missing a beat. "It's… divine relocation."
"It's not relocation if I didn't have a location to begin with. I was on my way to find a place for myself, you know..." Orion said, as if he had already lost all hope of getting a place at this hour.
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Decided this was not a hill worth dying on and just didn't mention anything else. Hestia was, well, Hestia.
If she was as airheaded as she was in the show, then there wasn't much point in telling her otherwise.
"This is my church," Hestia declared proudly, spreading her arms wide.
A chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling in response.
Orion stared. "…It has character."
"It has potential," she corrected quickly, an awkward smile plastered on her face as she sent a mean glance at the corner where the plaster fell, like asking, 'Seriously, couldn't you wait a bit longer? I almost had him... Ahem... I mean, hmm, just forget it...'
Stepping in front of a particularly concerning crack in the wall as if shielding it from judgment. "Anyway! As you said, you didn't have a place to stay, so I brought you here. After all, a poor boy like you can't be sleeping on the streets."
'I can, I just did yesterday. And do I look like a stray cat to you, that you picked me up and brought me home?' Orion internally complained. But he didn't say anything.
"That's… thoughtful," Orion admitted. "But I'm not in your Familia or anything, so you've got no reason to let me stay here."
"Ah, don't mind it. I wouldn't have brought you here if I didn't plan to help you out. You also bought my whole stock of Jagamarukun. I've never seen anyone like them so much, so I can do this much for my new favorite customer... right!"
"Hmm..."
"I mean—" he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "—sharing a run-down church with a goddess wasn't exactly part of my plan."
"Oh." She deflated slightly. Then immediately straightened. "Well! It's roomy! And cold! And spiritually enriching!"
Honestly, if this wasn't Hestia—arguably the best goddess in terms of harmlessness in Orario—he might have thought she had a whole bunch of torture tools hidden somewhere around by the way she cheerfully wished him to stay.
'But still, bringing a boy she just met to her place was a bit irresponsible, isn't she...? I can only hope Bell comes sooner rather than later at this rate...' Orion was conflicted.
And that was when Hestia slowly clasped her hands together, eyes sparkling far too brightly. "So! Speaking of plans! So what do you think? You like the place, wanna stay here... permanently..." That last part was almost a whisper as she darted her eyes away from him while saying so.
Orion, of course, heard it. His senses were really good right now. Somehow, flashes of those old horror movies where they capture the naïve traveler and encase him for life started flashing in front of his eyes.
'No, no... there is no torture room in here. This is Hestia. She isn't like that.' Orion stiffened and told himself.
Apparently, that last 'permanently' came out rather threatening in Orion's eyes.
Marika, who was watching the drama, knew her idiot Tarnished had completely misunderstood the matter.
She couldn't take it anymore, and her voice echoed calmly in his mind.
[Deities here are about as subtle as a war hammer to the spine.]
Orion didn't get it. Most times he had trouble interpreting her strange English. This one was rather plain too, and yet he failed to comprehend what she meant.
Hestia leaned closer. "You know, my family is rather small. As in, just me. Which means lots of freedom! And no annoying seniors! And I'm a really nice goddess, you know?"
Her thoughts were screaming.
Please say yes please say yes please say yes I saw him first, well technically not, he's already in one Familia, but still I just need one child. Please just one...
She wasn't the type to steal another god's child. However, it's not stealing if he comes by himself, right...!
RIGHT!
Orion winced. "Ah, so that's why you brought me here—"
Before he could finish—
Golden light bloomed behind him.
The air grew heavy. Ancient. Regal.
Marika manifested.
Orion nearly jumped out of his skin. "Gah—why did you come out!"
Hestia screamed. "G-G-G-GHOST—?!"
Instinct flared. Her divine aura surged dangerously close to breaking free.
[Compose thyself.]
Marika said coolly, golden eyes narrowing.
Hestia froze.
Slowly, she lowered her hands.
"…You're not a ghost." Her eyes narrowed. She could almost sense a faint aura of divinity from the beautiful woman who had just appeared out of thin air.
[Nay.]
Marika replied, tilting her head slightly.
[I am far worse.]
'I can witness to that...' Orion almost blurted out.
Hestia swallowed and stared.
The goddess before her was tall, radiant, wrapped in quiet authority. Golden hair like molten sunlight. A presence that pressed against the soul without effort.
Beautiful.
Terrifyingly so.
Even for a goddess like her, the person in front of her was very beautiful.
"…You're really pretty," Hestia blurted out.
Marika blinked once.
[Think not that honeyed words shall move me. Flattery is a wind that blows past the throne, never beneath it.]
Orion groaned softly and buried his face in his hands. "Why is my life like this."
Marika turned her gaze to him and then back to Hestia, lips curling faintly.
[The answer thou seekest stands plainly before thine eyes, does it not? Oh, my beloved...]
Marika said, batting her eyes sensually towards him...
'Be-beloved... what the hell, woman. Where is your trademark sarcasm? How did you change the tune?' Orion almost choked on his saliva.
'Beloved...' Hestia's mind felt like it overloaded and needed rebooting.
[Now then, Goddess of the Hearth. Thou wert attempting to lay claim to that which is not thine.]
Marika spoke, turning back to Hestia, eyes narrowing.
Strange way of talking aside, Hestia immediately turned her eyes away in guilt when she got exposed, puffing up defensively. "I wasn't stealing! I was just—offering!"
[Ah yes.]
Marika said sweetly.
[To drag him across half thy city and dangle shelter before him as bait—truly, a most saintly display.]
Hestia's face turned red with embarrassment. She flinched as if struck by arrows made of sarcasm.
"Wh-what even are you? How did you suddenly appear here like a ghost..." Hestia hastily asked, changing the topic.
[Is it not plain to see? I am his goddess, and he is my Tarnished—my lord, my chosen, my beloved.]
Marika retorted, slowly puffing her own chest out. Her hands naturally went under the source of her divinity to support her heavens, which even Hestia's ribbons would fail to carry.
Hestia looked personally offended at how the goddess in front of her looked at her height like she was a child, then at her chest with a slight smirk, and then, as if in a show of superiority, gave her own breasts a slight upward lift to emphasize them.
"Hey!"
Hestia's face grew redder, this time with anger, though even she had to accept hers were better...
Ignoring the Goddess of the Hearth, who was almost ready to wage war over size, Marika looked around, then her face scrunched up slightly.
[This church offends me.]
Orion peeked between his fingers. "Can… can we not start a divine war over my living arrangements?"
Marika glanced at him, her expression softening immediately.
[Fear thee not, oh silly Tarnished of mine. I merely sought to make one thing abundantly clear.]
She turned back to Hestia, smile razor-sharp. Her earlier encounter with Freya, when she noticed someone looking at her Elden Lord with those eyes, soured her mood.
[He is mine.]
She said it plainly, no filters attached, no hesitation. A clear declaration with enough possessiveness to make even Orion blush for a second.
Silence fell over the crumbling church.
Hestia swallowed hard. "…That—that is not final, you overgrown golden cow. Orion-kun will decide who he wishes to be with..."
Hestia shouted, angry and frustrated.
xXx
A/N : Overgrown golden cow... I don't know why but after trying I started to crack up at this... can't say why I found it so amusing.
Tell me how to improve my writing, I'm currently trying to get better as a author.
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