Vol. I Chapter V: A Moment of Peace

And as he gazed outside into the empty gardens, he thought:

Would she even be here? Among masks? In a game that wasn’t hers?

Then he suddenly knew.

“She’s not here!” he whispered, and shoved himself away from the window, breaking into a run.

He tore through long open corridors out into the palace gardens behind the marble walls.

The air was cool, the first light of dawn casting a delicate veil over the grass. Birds chirped in the underbrush, and somewhere, something rustled softly.

A light giggle. Mischievous. Unmistakable.

He followed the sound through a corridor overgrown with ivy until he reached a fountain.

And there she was.

Melissa was perched on the fountain’s rim, her hair wild and tangled. She was tossing grapes at a sleeping nymph floating inside the fountain’s basin, and laughing in that way only she could.

She didn’t notice him at first. Not until she threw the last of her grapes and prepared for another mischievous trick.

Then her eyes fell on him and her laughter stilled.

“I was supposed to find you at a masquerade ball, you know,” Lucius said, arms folded, a serious expression on his face. Melissa didn’t say a word. Instead, she leapt down from the fountain in one smooth motion, landing with a solid click of her hooves in front of him.

Slowly, she stepped closer.

“I told you once already, who says I follow the rules?” Melissa grinned. That real grin, wild and irreverent.

Lucius tried to maintain his stern expression, but it crumbled. He burst out laughing, eyes shining with relief. They stared at each other. For a single breath, neither spoke.

Then, from the distance:

“YOUR TIME IS UP!”

Dionysus’ voice rolled through the garden, and he appeared along the ivy-covered colonnade, his raucous retinue trailing behind him.

“If you thought you could dodge my trial by hiding out here, then…” The god trailed off as he caught sight of Melissa and Lucius standing together.

Before Dionysus could react, Lucius closed his eyes, laid his hand over Melissa’s chest, felt the beating of her heart and declared:

“Here is the heart that belongs with mine. The one who doesn’t play by other people’s rules. The one who’s never where you expect her to be—but always where she can cause chaos. The only one who never wears a false face!“

A moment of silence followed. Melissa blushed slightly.

Dionysus’ eyes narrowed. He stepped towards them, his violet gaze crackling like lightning.

“I asked for a game, Melissa. A dance of masks. A labyrinth of senses. And you…” He advanced a step closer. “What kind of trial is it when the answer’s sitting on a fountain’s edge, laughing her head off?”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Dionysus’ glare shifted between Melissa and Lucius. Lucius stood his ground, his hand still pressed against Melissa’s chest, firm and steady. Melissa merely stared back at Dionysus with a look of bored defiance. Then, with a guttural, weary laugh, the god threw up his hands.

“Ah, Melissa… You’ve always been my most unruly child.” He raised one hand and from the silence arose a mighty roar:

“The second trial is… COMPLETE!”

An eruption of cheers exploded all around them. Masks tumbled, flutes sang and Satyrs resumed their wild dancing. Yet amid the chaos, Dionysus turned to Lucius, his expression now heavy, almost contemplative.

“So, mortal. One more trial. Just one. And if you pass it, your wish shall be granted.” He smiled.

“The third trial begins at dusk… in my realm.” He clapped his hands. Then his gaze fell on Melissa.

“You know the way.”

Dionysus dissolved into a surge of swirling leaves and grapevines. The palace crumbled into dust on the wind, as though it had never existed. The music was swallowed into the dawn sky. Only silence remained.

Lucius blinked, and found himself alone with Melissa on the hilltop. Morning dew sparkled on the leaves.

“So… does this mean… for the moment you’re allowed to stay with me?” he asked, confused. Melissa grinned, stepped closer, and gently bumped her horns against his shoulder.

“I’d have stayed with you either way. Whether he likes it or not.”

She chuckled softly, then leaned her head against his shoulder, a rare, tender gesture.

“If this is the last bit of time we have left… then I at least want to enjoy it.”

Lucius gave a dry laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“Hey! Have a little more faith in me. I’ve already passed two trials, remember?”

Melissa fell quiet for a moment. Then she slowly lifted her head to look at him.

Her eyes were not mocking, but strangely somber.

“Dionysus is a god, Lucius,” she said at last. “And gods never give anything away for free. If they grant you something… it’s only because they mean to take something in return.”

She reached out and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, almost tenderly.

“Don’t get your hopes up too high.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the look in her eyes silently pleaded with him not to.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said at last.

Melissa eventually led him through secret paths back into her realm, a quieter part of it.

No festivals. No music. Only the living whispers of trees and the soft crackle of twigs underfoot.

They rested in an old pavilion, overgrown with ivy, draped in looping grapevines hanging from the ceiling.

Melissa curled up in a swing woven from vines, lazily tossing grapes toward Lucius.

He caught three. Missed seven.

“You’re a terrible Satyr,” she teased, her hooves hooked over the swing’s backrest.

“I’m not a particularly good human, either,” he shot back.

She laughed. Then, so softly he barely heard it, she whispered:

“But you’re good enough for me...”

Lucius frowned.

“What was that?”

Melissa jerked in surprise, shaking her head violently.

“Nothing! I didn’t say anything!”

And immediately flung the next grape squarely into his chest.

Eventually they arrived at two massive fig trees, between which a hammock was strung.

“Here it is!” Melissa exclaimed, almost bouncing like a child.

She hopped ahead, barefoot through tall grass, touching the trunks and stepping into the clearing as though checking that everything was still just as she remembered.

Lucius chuckled softly, then dropped into the hammock with a weary sigh. The fabric swayed under his weight. He felt drained from the trials, the shifting between worlds.

Melissa shot him a quick look and saw him already half asleep, his eyes heavy, head tilting to the side.

Without warning, she pounced on him.

“Hey! No falling asleep!” she cried.

He ran his fingers through her hair, stroked the nape of her neck, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. At some point, Melissa, too, fell asleep, breathing softly, almost inaudible, with the faintest little snore. Lucius held her hand, and for a time, they simply lay there, unmoving.

A warm, dry breeze stirred the air, carrying a hint of cinnamon and ashes.

Melissa shifted and slowly pushed herself upright.

Her gaze drifted toward the horizon, where a dark streak had begun to crawl across the fading light.

“It’s time…” she murmured, without looking at him.

Somewhere in the distance, a faint echo resonated through the forests.

Lucius felt Melissa’s muscles tense. Slowly, as if every inch of her body resisted the separation, she pulled herself off him.

“He’s already waiting.”

Then, wordlessly, she led him deeper into the forest, toward the clearing where the god of revelry awaited for the final trial.