▃▃▃ ᴅᴏɴᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴏꜰ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴄᴇ ꜰᴏᴏʟ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴇ ɪꜱ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ʙᴀᴅ-ᴊ ɪʀᴏɴ ᴡᴏʀᴅ
▃▃ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 1 ▃▃ In which the only daughter of Persephone sneaks on a quest to see the world for the first time since she's been at camp. The daughter of wisdom...
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𖥔݁ ˖ ⭑ ‧₊˚ ⋅ જ⁀➴๋࣭⭑๋࣭⭑
Everything was on fire.
"Adrien! Dominic!" she screamed, spinning, swordless, heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the roaring fire.
The world smelled like burning plastic and fear.
She stumbled over something in the dirt—her sword.
48 ʜᴏᴜʀꜱᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ
The world had been quiet then.
The kind of quiet that didn't last long when you were friends with two chaotic, slightly emotionally damaged boys who thought "relaxing" meant competitive knife throwing and setting popcorn on fire.
They were at a rented cottage—barely holding itself together—with old floorboards, overgrown ivy, and a fireplace that didn't really work. Elara loved it. It was peaceful. Hidden. The kind of place that smelled like old wood and cinnamon. It was one of the few places they felt safe.
Elara sat cross-legged on the couch, scribbling Greek letters into a tattered notebook. Dominic was at her side, leaning against her shoulder, not even pretending to pay attention to the lesson.
"You skipped a line," she murmured without looking up.
"No I didn't," he muttered.
"You wrote 'eternal' twice. You're trying to translate 'I will protect you' and right now it says 'I will protect you eternally forever eternal.'"
Dominic blinked at the notebook. "...I meant it."
Elara laughed, and Dominic smiled to himself—soft, almost shy. He didn't care that she was laughing at his terrible Greek. Not even a little. Not when it made her eyes light up like that.
Adrien sprawled upside down on the armchair, legs dangling over the back, head nearly touching the floor. "This is why I quit Latin class when I was ten."
"You didn't quit," Dominic said without looking at him. "You got banned from bringing snacks into the school library and decided the entire education system was a scam."
Adrien pointed upward dramatically. "Exactly. Justice for brownies."
Elara raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Oh gods," Dominic groaned. "Don't tell her."
"We used to sneak out of the orphanage at night," Adrien said, eyes gleaming. "Steal brownie mix from the kitchen. We'd try to cook them over candles."
Elara looked horrified and amazed. "Candles?"
"We didn't have access to a stove!" Adrien protested. "We tried everything—hair dryers, radiator vents, one time I held the pan over the toaster for an hour—"
