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Chapter Text

Mal didn't enjoy the plan they had come up with.

She was selling her skills in exchange for the council of gods voting for what she wanted and that part hadn't hit Mal until now. It was worth it to free Dad and Hadie, but it still wasn't ideal, especially with not knowing what they would have her do and the gods’ track record.

The rustling of the breeze running through the asphodel flowers brought Mal from her thoughts. Other than the flowers, the field Hecate had brought her to was otherwise empty of any landmarks other than a yew tree a few feet away from her.

Mal walked over and sat at the roots, resting her head against the trunk. It and the asphodel flowers didn't decay when she touched them like most things and that was a miracle to her. The decay thing usually didn't bother her since it didn't affect anything already taken from the ground so plants were good to eat, but it was still annoying.

As she closed her eyes and let her mind wander, voices echoing around her, muffled and quiet like they were underwater. The sounds of laughter and cheers rang out and Mal could see the scene so clearly in her head. 

The dead VKs cheered and laughed as one of the Gaston twins challenged a heavily muscled man in a chiton to an arm wrestling match and won. But despite seeing it in her head, Mal knew it wasn't anything like the real one and she opened her eyes to see it for herself.

Instead of seeing the scene, Mal saw ghostly wisps fading away with a near-silent echo of the noise from the vision. Mal rested her head against the tree trunk and sighed.

So her connection to the underworld was making her daydream about scenes that could be happening there? Perfect.

Mal shook her head, glancing over just in time as Megara appeared in a flash, holding a scroll. Mal quickly got to her feet and faced the woman. 

“I have a list of gods who are willing to give you tasks for their vote,” Megara started, offering the scroll. Mal almost ripped it out of her hand and hurriedly started reading.

Aphrodite, Athena, Artemis, Apollo, Dionysus, Hermes, Hephaestus and Poseidon’s names stared back at her through the ink. Eight names, leaving four behind, not counting Hercules’ possible seat that Dad was sure he was given but had no evidence for.

Wasn't too bad of a number and hopefully wouldn't take that long. Mal caught on the empty tick boxes next to each name and then the words on the end of the scroll.

A blunt request from Hephaestus for a rare ore he described vividly which she would find in a mine with the coordinates attached.

Mal glanced up at Megara. “He already had it prepared, I'm assuming he was already looking for someone to grab the ore for him,” Megara explained. “Either way, it's a quest that will get his vote.” After a moment she flicked a compass to Mal. “Hephaestus says it'll lead you to the coordinates he set and let you know when you get there.”

The bronze compass was cold in Mal's palm and Mal nodded to herself. “I'll get set off then. I still need to grab myself some supplies since Hecate kidnapped me before I had the chance.”

At a simple tug, Mal's wings burst from her back and she flung herself into the air. Her strong wings beat the air and she made a beeline in the Isle’s direction, knowing that she could find Auradon Prep if she followed that direction.

She wanted to sleep in her bed for one last time.

---

Dawn came slowly. Mal stared at the rising sun on the roof of Auradon high with her bag of supplies.

It was mostly food and a change of clothes to sleep in. Mal was back in her leather suit now, with her wings laid out behind her on the rooftop. Slinging the bag over her shoulders, Mal got to her feet and flung herself into the air.

She didn't quite have the enthusiasm and joy she did in her first main flight, but Mal still enjoyed the feeling of the wind against her face.

Sometimes she wanted to arc into the air and fly as high as she could but… Icarus was well-known for a reason. Mal glanced down at the compass, which was digging into her palm.

North. Mal followed the directions, gazing into the horizon. There was a forest Mal didn't recognise a few feet below her, tall pines reaching for the sky. She almost got caught on one of the trees, the tip pulling a gasp from her lungs.

Hurriedly, Mal flew higher when she saw a taller pine up ahead and threw herself to the side. She mistook how much space she needed to pass it, and couldn't pull up in time.

Her brain shut down for a second while she braced for impact and when it came too, Mal was struck in the branches of a tree. Mal grumpily picked her way out of the stupid tree. While the branches hadn't pierced the leather, she could still feel her body protest at flying into a tree along with a familiar ache on her cheek which was probably a cut.

When Mal had positioned herself on a branch, she raised a hand to her cheek and it came back copper. Admittedly, it took Mal longer than she would have liked to realise that the copper was probably ichor and blood mixing and not something to be worried about.

Her next job was to check that her bag was intact. Thankfully it was as though there were a few tiny holes and everything inside had been scattered around.

Next, Mal turned to check on her wings. They were as ghostly as ever and Mal adjusted her spot on the thick branch.

She wasn't sure how long she had spent travelling so far but it wasn't past midday at the moment. Mal wasn't sure how long it would take and she only had about a week's worth of food, so she needed to be fast with things.

The branch creaked warningly and Mal jumped up, wings beating to carry her into the air. When she was high enough, Mal spread her wings and shifted into a glide.

It was much easier to reserve energy that way but Mal still found herself growing tired as it got later and later without any change in the compass.

Eventually, it reached sunset and Mal could fly no more. Her feet thudded unsteadily against the ground and Mal almost fell over from the ache and heaviness of her noncorporeal wings.

With a sigh, Mal dragged her aching and exhausted body through the motions of setting up a campfire and making dinner before blissfully falling asleep in a giant hollow tree she found.

---

Shortly before the next sunset, Mal set off and was greeted by the compass letting her know she was at the location.

With it suddenly becoming scorching hot.

Mal shrieked and instinctively dropped the compass, it quickly falling out of the sky. Damn it! She needs that!

Her wings folded inwards and Mal plummeted down, reaching for the glint of bronze with desperate fingers. The wind rushed past her face with a vengeance and chilled her to the bone.

The compass got closer but so did the ground. Time seemed to slow down when the compass was within grabbing distance.

Mal stretched out her arm, fingers glancing off the fire-like surface and missing . She reached out again, the ground closer than ever, in seconds she would make contact, and her fingers closed around the molten-feeling compass.

She flung her wings out, flaring to their full length and catching her just before she met the ground. Mal lurched forward, meeting the ground in a roll, panting heavily but never taking her hands off the compass.

Adrenaline pulsed through her body with a fury as Mal panted and tried to catch her breath. Her whole body trembled and instead of trying to move, Mal curled in on herself, eyes wide and hands still clutching the burningly hot compass.

It took her longer than she liked for Mal to work up the strength to move, still frightened by her close call.

When Mal stood, she was greeted by the sight of a cave entrance. She glanced down at the compass, which was pointing towards the cave mouth.

So this was where she was supposed to go. Maybe luck didn't hate her. Mal warily approached the cave and dipped inside.

Mal left her bag at the cave entrance, hidden in a nook to return to. She didn't know how long it would take for her to find the ore and she didn't want to lug her bag around the whole time. Her theory that luck didn't hate her proved to be somewhat correct as Mal found a pickaxe not long after she entered.

It was a ridiculously hard trip further into the cave. There were tiny passages with roofs so low that Mal had to crawl and steep downward tunnels she had to jump down.

She was in one of those steep tunnels, trying to ignore the stone scraping against her back as she slid down when she saw a sparkle.

Warily, Mal approached and got a better look. Fire red was intertwined with the normal stone wall in what Mal guessed was the ore. Mal glanced around, noticing that the cavern she was in seemed especially unsteady. The wall with the ore didn't seem to be a load-bearing one so she continued forward.

She swung the pickaxe blade deep into the corner of the ore with all her strength. Mal stumbled forward, the extra momentum knocking her into the wall, and looked up to see what she had caused. A single dent.

Godsdammit. Mal swung the pickaxe again and again until she had pried a chunk out of the wall. It wasn't even a third of the visible ore in the wall.

Grumbling to herself, Mal repeated the motion until she had excavated at least half the deposit, which was a surprisingly large one.

It was when Mal saw firelight coming from one of the tunnels that she froze and tightened her grip on the pickaxe. The clanking of metal moving accompanied the light until a bull made of bronze metal with fire sparking from its eyes and mouth emerged from the other tunnel.

Oh gods. “You're a nice bull, aren't you?” Mal cooed, backing away all the while. The bull huffed and stomped a foot before charging.

Mal threw herself out of the way, tumbling along the uneven floor before she managed to right herself in a roll. The bull bellowed, drowning out the stream of curses fleeing her mouth.

It charged again, Mal barely dodging. This time, it breathed fire as it ran. She narrowly dodged the flames scorching where she was and bolted forward, disappearing into one of the side tunnels.

Her only hope was to try and lose it in the tunnels. Hopefully, the chunk of the ore she had would be good enough. As soon as she thought that, Mal knew it wouldn't be.

Mal raced through the stone paths, ducking under stalactites and skirting around stalagmites.

No matter how far she ran, the bull was always close behind, destruction ringing on Mal's heels. Eventually, this cave would come down around both Mal and the bull, and Mal didn't know if she would be able to escape if things went bad.

Mal stopped in place, chest burning with lack of air and legs almost useless from exhaustion. Even if she managed to make it back to her bag, Mal didn't have a weapon in it. This pickaxe was her best bet and there were no guarantees that it would work against the bull.

Her wings were too much of a hindrance for this place, even though they would phase through the walls, Mal wouldn't and there wasn't any room to fly in her.

She was at a full disadvantage.

The bull crashed through the wall, a cascade of rocks falling from the ceiling but not enough to cause a cave-in. It huffed and ran at her again, in a stroke of determination and trust that she could do it, Mal dashed forward to the bull.

At the last second, she threw herself down, momentum allowing her to slide right under it. Sprinting, Mal fled back to the tunnel with the ore deposit.

Without hesitation, Mal made the long journey back to the entrance of the cave where her bag was.

---

Mal put her head in her hands. What was a way to defeat the bull without the cave being pulled down around her?

With a sigh, Mal poked a stick at her growing campfire. She had sort of packed everything she saw when collecting food and had thrown a preservation spell on it. The downside to it was that most of it required cooking. 

And Mal wasn't the best at cooking. Usually, if something needed cooking on the Isle, Evie made it. Otherwise, Mal would eat it raw. But today, Mal needed the energy.

Still, Mal was not happy as she started cooking. The bull was a problem. A big one.

As she said earlier, Mal was extremely limited in her actions. The delicate cave system was probably the biggest limitation. A limitation for her and the bull…

A plan was slowly forming in her head. It was a risky one, but what was a reward without risk?

Mal ate her steak which was so burnt in some parts it was basically ash and raw in others.

After she slept, it would be time to test her plan.

---

Slipping through the several tunnels, Mal approached where the deposit would be carefully, ears pricked and listening.

The walls were dampening any sound so her hearing didn't help much. Despite that, Mal faintly heard crashing in the distance.

Mal made it to the deposit cave quicker than she had before, now knowing where to go. The bull must have figured out where she was by the crashing sounds from her left this time.

As soon as it appeared, Mal dashed to the right, heading for the tunnel that had the tiny rockslide earlier. That area was especially unstable and there was a tunnel that appeared to only be held up by the pillars of stalactites and stalagmites. That specific tunnel screamed cave-in waiting to happen to Mal and it would be the best fit for her goal.

If Mal could make it there and lure the bull into charging into there, there was a high chance it would cave in around it and while Mal knew the bull could break stalactites and stalagmites, she had a feeling a cave-in would stop it long enough for her to get the ore and leave.

Especially if the main tunnel leading to it caved in too.

The bull was chasing after her and despite her plan, Mal couldn't help but feel panicked, her breaths coming faster and faster. She had dodged so far, but what would happen if she was hit?

Mal knew she was somewhat fire-resistant and that the bull's fire wouldn't do much, but the bull still had strength over her.

She jumped over a stalagmite, pushing off the tip when her boot landed on it. The bull bellowed behind her.

The tunnel she needed was in sight. Her run slowed to a stop and Mal stopped in front of it, crouching and ready to jump at a single moment.

It huffed, stomping a foot. Mal responded, legs tensing and preparing herself. Finally, it charged and Mal jumped out of the way, falling in a roll.

Mal spared one glance behind her as she smoothly got to her feet. The bull crashed through the stalactites and stalagmites, a shower of pebbles falling before the unstable ceiling caved in, blocking the bull from sight.

Then the world collapsed.

Autopilot took over as rocks fell from the ceiling. Mal ducked, rolled and jumped in her desperate bid to escape.

She was more than thankful that Mal found training her body necessary as she ran for her life. The ore cavern was in sight as a shower of rocks fell in the entrance to the cave.

More fell, leaving only a small part open, barely enough for Mal's shoulders to fit through. Almost instinctively, her wings burst through her shoulders and propelled Mal through the hole.

Mal slammed into the opposite wall, falling back and rolling along the floor. She ended up lying against the wall that had just been filled in and Mal curled in on herself, covering her head.

When nothing else caved in, Mal felt the energy being sapped from her body as the adrenaline faded.

She went limp and Hypnos stole her away against her will.

---

Mal pried the last chunk of the ore out of the wall and let out a world-weary sigh. The first thing she did after waking up was collect the rest of the ore.

This single trip had managed to steal three days of her time, the first day of travel, her original discovery of the ore and bull before she retreated and finally now, after she had slept what Mal presumed to be a few hours based on how more energetic she felt.

Now, her job was to finish this damned quest so Mal could move on and get back to Ben.

It took several trips but Mal eventually took all the ore chunks outside where she dumped them in a big pile.

“Hephaestus, I finished your task,” Mal grumbled, praying to send the message to him. She plopped down on the ground, cross-legged and picked a can out of her food supply.

She used the lid as a spoon and Mal made it more than halfway through the can before Hephaestus popped up. “Your ore,” Mal gestured to the pile of chunks as she spoke. Before he could speak, Mal continued. “There's a fire-breathing metal bull trapped in the cave tunnels so warn people if you get someone else to get some more for you.”

“Ah. I was wondering where that went,” Hephaestus muttered. He shook his head and held out a messenger bag. “Hermes asked me to bring this to you as payment for a package he brought me.”

Mal reluctantly took the messenger bag from him and Hephaestus picked up the giant pile of ore. “...I will make sure to vote for Hades, demigod,” he said, before disappearing.

Mal sighed and dumped the now empty can on the ground. She flicked open the messenger bag and found a package with a note attached.

She quickly started reading.

-

I heard you were doing favours for gods, so here's one for you!

Go to this location (Latitude: 30.85155, Longitude: 148.05777) and deliver the package! The compass Hephaestus gave you should take you there if you lift up the hatch on the bottom and put in the coordinates.

Your soon-to-be favourite Cousin, Hermes

(Ps. This quest should be an easy one)

Chapter Text

I heard you were doing favors for gods so here's one for you!

Go to this location (Latitude: 30.85155, Longitude: 148.05777) and deliver the package! The compass Hephaestus gave you should take you there if you lift up the hatch on the bottom and put in the coordinates.

Your soon-to-be favourite Cousin, Hermes

(Ps. This quest should be an easy one)

-

Mal groaned and lowered the note. She didn't trust that ‘Ps’. Hermes was a notoriously trickster and it wouldn't surprise Mal if he tried to lure her into a sense of false security.

Still, Mal would need to complete it anyway, so it would be better to get it over with—even if she had to use the burning compass.

She followed the instructions Hermes had given and stared at the compass as the fingers spun before pointing south.

With a sigh, Mal glanced at the rising sun and flung herself into the sky.

---

Several months ago, Mal was shown a map of Auradon and the nations surrounding it. She knew that the mountain with the ore was somewhere over the Great Wall but not quite in either of the other countries on that side's territory.

Now, Mal knew the south was the direction of Greece. Which meant Olympus since Olympus was sort of over Greece. Then things clicked.

Hermes was likely sending her to Greece. That was like… five days of travel if she were driving if her terrible math was to be believed. And who knows how long it would take if she flew since she travelled in short bursts of speed.

…He better speed up her travel times.

Mal repeated as much in a prayer. A mischievous wind fluttered through her hair and Mal jumped into the sky.

It took her a while of flight before Mal realised that the wind was carrying her along and Mal settled into a glide. Hermes evidently did speed up her travel time.

It was nice to watch the world going about its day as she flew. Mal's sight was always erratic, allowing her to see the slightest furrow of a brow from a five-minute walk away, only to switch to normal sight within a second.

She was pretty sure that as she got more used to magic, her eyesight when it came to distance got better. The reason? Mal could sort of make out the people below her even though they wouldn't be able to see her.

A small figure that she guessed was a child was running happily along the streets followed by a taller figure that Mal guessed was their parent.

Mal flew a little lower, transfixed by the sight of people living so happily. Despite living in Auradon for the past four months, Mal hadn't ever been in a square with lots of people so she hadn't seen anyone going about their daily life.

It made her heart hurt a little. Mal had never really understood why other VKs wished they were born in Auradon but now she sort of did. To her, the Isle wasn't that bad. Sure it wasn't great when it was under Maleficent's control,  but Mal still had Hadie and now she had Dad.

But she couldn't help but wonder how she would be if she had grown up in an environment where she was given the love and respect a child needs.

She prayed there was a future where that would be how the Isle worked. Maybe Mal would even be able to see it with how fast the Isle was progressing towards a good future.

Wandering through these regions caused Mal to have some thoughts about the Isle for the future. They might all be part of Auradon, but before that, they were their own country. Knowing the Isle residents, they would probably aim for independence as none of them liked being viewed as weak, even now when it didn't matter as much.

That would be another thing for her to figure out with Ben, Mal mused. Ben probably wouldn't be against it, and Mal sure wouldn't. The council might, but honestly… Once the barrier was down, the Isle would declare independence in less than a week and legal independence would quickly follow.

Her situational awareness suddenly activated and Mal glanced around for the threat. While she was flying, she had drifted within sight of the city below her and the child from before had spotted her.

The previously thought-to-be adult who now appeared to be more of a teenager visibly gasped and pointed to her and then away from her.

Mal followed her gaze to a statue in front of a building with a big bell in a tower. The statue had feathery wings like hers and Mal understood now.

They might have mistaken her to be of a similar race to the statue and Mal couldn't even blame them. Her wings did seem corporeal from far away and were white even when translucent so being mistaken as an angel wouldn't be out of the gate outside of her appearance and clothing.

Still, she hurriedly raised herself in the sky until she was no longer visible. It was a risk, Mal was closer to the clouds than she would like and the closer she got to Greece, the bigger worry that would be.

For now, though, Mal was not lowering herself until she saw Greek architecture.

---

Mal landed at the location the coordinates led to.

It was a village carved on the edge of one of Greece's many mountains. The houses were simple and white and there was a small square with market stalls.

It was also completely empty.

Mal approached one of the stalls, brushing a hand against the torn fabric covering. Rotten fruit was strewn against the ground next to a barrel. She didn't have to touch it to know the fruit was nothing but mush, not something even Mal would eat at her lowest.

She walked over to a small house. Its windows were open, the glass grimy, and the door was hanging off the hinges. The compass warmed, making it more than obvious that this was the house where she was supposed to drop the package off.

Carefully, Mal ducked under the doorway and slipped inside. Immediately, she was greeted by the sight of a main room with a kitchenette, a dining table, a couch and a small TV scattered around the room. Something poked out from under the couch and Mal walked over to it.

It was a small doll, made of cloth but clearly loved. Mal held it carefully as if it would dissolve into ash at one wrong movement.

“What happened to you?” she whispered, her voice echoing off the walls. Sunlight filtered through the dirty windows and glinted off a broken picture frame.

It was a woman and a young girl. The woman had long straight blonde hair in a simple braid, attractive features and was in a dress that looked easy to move around in. The girl had fluffy-looking brown hair that fell in waves down her back that was the same colour as Calix's, the same lilt to her lips and the same mischievous spark in her amber eyes despite her innocent smile.

Mal couldn't process anything else, too fixated on how this was a relative of Calix's who lived here. Calix, who had been one of her first Dragons, who was the first to join after Evie, Jay and Carlos.

No. The weight of where she was hit Mal suddenly. This little girl and her mother couldn't be dead.

They couldn't be . Mal was distracted from her shock by a tug, similar to when she was using magic or her powers.

She glanced down at the doll which was limp in her grip. White caught her eye and Mal looked up. It was a wandering spirit, an old man.

He bowed respectfully and Mal took advantage of it to get some information. “What happened here?” She questioned. She could question what was happening later.

The old man blinked but answered. “There was a colony of nearby harpies who were without food. No matter how many times we tried to find someone to deal with them, they didn't leave and eventually, they attacked the town. Almost everyone escaped, I was just one of the unlucky few,” the man explained.

Mal hummed and held out the photo. “Did these two make it out?”

“Little Zoe and Penelope?” So that was their names. “They didn't die so they must have stayed with the group fleeing.” Before Mal could say anything, he stepped outside and pointed west. “That was the direction they went. I remember it well,” the old man said.

“Thank you, sir.” The words slipped out before Mal could stop them. Here she was breaking her own advice. Still, she continued. “You are dismissed.”

He nodded once before he dissolved into the wind. Mal stood for a moment before sliding to her knees.

She couldn't stop comparing this village with the Isle. But there were so many similarities. Even down to the harpy situation, the Isle had that moment where the goblins weren't getting enough food and tried to rebel, displacing a load of VKs and villains before Maleficent got them under control…

She could take the easy way out with this task and track down Penelope and Zoe or she could kick the harpies out and return the village to the people who had to leave.

There really wasn't a choice here.

Mal wandered the village for a bit, collecting what she thought she would need. She hit the jackpot when she stumbled across some sort of weapons room, likely made due to the harpies.

Once she was fully armed, Mal dumped one of the random bits of meat she grabbed when packing on the ground and settled down to wait.

It didn't take long for a harpy to pop out of a barn and snatch the meat, only to be attacked by several more harpies popping out of random houses.

Mal had been expecting a group coming to scavenge more food, not that the harpies were now living in the village.

Hefting her chosen weapon onto her shoulder, a silver sword, Mal strode forward to the bunch of harpies.

“Leave and stay away,” Mal demanded. Mal got her first good look at the harpies and Mal would admit she hadn't seen anyone like them.

They were women whose arms faded into wings, from the hips down they were birds, their hair was greasy and they were either clothed in grimy rags or not at all.

The closest one to her shrieked and launched herself at Mal with her talons. Glad to have her signature weapon back, Mal swung her sword and neatly sliced through one of the harpy’s talons.

She screeched in rage. “Do you know how long I've been growing those out?!” Her words were sharp and grating on Mal's sensitive ears but she put up with it.

Now that she had mentioned it, Mal did see that her remaining talons were much longer than the other harpies’. Mal gave a warning swing, the harpy shrieking and backing away.

“I told you to leave this town and stay gone.” A different harpy scoffed, flying from the top of the barn. This one was older and likely the leader.

“Why would we do that? Travellers come here for a break and we can take their food while eating the food the mortals left behind. There's no advantage to us leaving.” the leader smirked, lips opening to show yellow teeth.

Mal bared her teeth in return. The leader harpy immediately responded by baring her own and they stared each other down. Mal summoned her wings and lifted herself into the air. The leader harpy matched the movement. Mal flew higher and then the harpy leader flew higher.

The odd intimidation ritual Mal had found herself in continued until one of the other harpies smelled the food in Mal's bag and tried to steal it from her, prompting the other harpies to attack.

Mal shrieked in response to the other harpies’ screams, swinging her sword at them. An involuntary shudder ran through her body at the splatter of harpy blood she got from a lucky shot.

It was disgustingly viscous and if that wasn't an incentive to finish this fight as soon as possible, Mal had no clue what was.

She swung her sword violently again, leaving a long cut down a semi-armoured torso. When this harpy went down, two others who had been hesitating the entire fight flitted down to retreat.

Hm. If Mal could get the leader to go down, then she might be able to scare the others into retreating.

Mal purposefully let herself fall into predictable movements, even if the harpies might not pick up on it. When the leader moved within reach, Mal slashed out and smoothly cut the talons on the leader's left hand in half. Before the leader could falter, Mal struck out again, making sure to injure but not kill.

The leader screeched and landed, holding her left hand with her right. “Mercy!” She finally shrieked.

Mal stabbed her sword into the dirt as she landed. “You and your flock have to swear on the Styx that you will leave this village and the surrounding ones alone. If you don't…” Mal trailed off, leaving the obvious threat to be imaginable. If you did that, the one being threatened would always fill in the blanks and if you played it right, you'd get the knowledge you need to get the threat that would work the best out of them.

“I swear! Tenielle! Syrena! Get your girls to do it too!” The leader shrieked. The supposed Tenielle and Syrena followed what they were told.

Soon enough, Mal had the entire flock swear that they wouldn't bother anyone from the nearby villages. Nearby villages was the keyword but Mal really couldn't be bothered to negotiate further. Sometimes you just had to let some people pillage and steal to survive and Mal wouldn't take someone's survival from them. If she was, she would just kill them.

Back on track, she has to send those harpies away. “Time to go,” Mal warned. The leader nodded hastily.

“Of course! We're going now!” the leader hurriedly said before flapping off. The rest of the flock followed her.

Mal flew after them for a bit, just long enough to make sure they wouldn't return before she returned to the empty village. She picked up the cloth doll and the photo of Zoe and Penelope before storing it carefully in her bag so neither would get crumpled.

There was a nearby river perfect for bathing so Mal settled down for one. To her annoyance, she had to clean her leather which meant that she was without her armour for a good day or two while it dried.

Thankfully, Mal had something semi-suitable for Greek society.

Though that was her saffron chiton with a simple translucent cloth draped over her, a white sash Hadie gifted her tied around her waist to keep the cloth from falling off her. It conveniently made it look like she was wearing a weird coat or shawl instead of a random square of cloth Mal brought with her to use as bandages if needed.

Mal also had some simple boots which were formal enough to fit the outfit while being practical she had brought as backup.

She stretched, testing her mobility. It certainly made up for the lack of armour though it was new compared to her usual stiff leather.

Right, if she wanted to make it to another village by nightfall, Mal would have to go now. Setting her leather in her bag to dry with magic when she got the chance, Mal spread her wings and hopped into the sky with ease.

---

Mal drifted for a while, occasionally flapping her wings to keep her in the air but otherwise scanning the ground. She needed a village. Even if it wasn't to find Zoe or Penelope, Mal was almost through her food stash due to the last four days and she needed to restock. She could hunt, but that would be an unnecessary annoyance that would just slow her down.

Finally, she saw a village and Mal landed gracefully, dismissing her wings before she could be seen with them. The sun was slowly setting though the marketplace was surprisingly full.

No, that was a town meeting.

Pulling at the translucent cloth, Mal shifted the excess at the back of her neck to cover her head. It wasn't much, but it would help dim her distinctive hair and make it harder to see in the dying light.

“Anyone who wishes to join the hunting party for the flock of harpies a town over, step forward now!” A man standing on a makeshift stage declared. When no one stepped forward, the man turned to chatter about glory to be claimed and then an appeal about what would happen next. “What happens when the harpies run out of food? They'll come here!”

Whispers of dissent and fear ran through the crowd and Mal stepped forward, meeting the man's eyes. “The harpies have been dealt with already,” Mal told him, holding out the sword covered in harpy blood as evidence.

Gasps surrounded her but Mal ignored them. “I am on a quest for Lord Hermes so would one of you take me to these two refugees as compensation?” Mal offered him the photo. The man nodded shakily.

“I'll take you to them. Thank you for your assistance, great hero,” the man said. Mal rolled her eyes.

“Don't call me that,” Mal started. “And let's get going, I have another quest lined up after this and I want to get this finished.”

Mal almost groaned at her response. It obviously wasn't the best based on the crowds' reaction. Whispers of ‘who is she’ and ‘is she a proper hero’ followed her as she weaved through the crowd after the man.

He led her to a two-story house. “Penelope and her kid are staying with Cora. Just head on up and ask for them,” the man advised. Mal nodded her thanks and walked over to the door.

An older woman with silky black hair opened the door. “I have a package for Penelope,” Mal explained. She showed her the package. “I also believe these are theirs.” Mal placed the cloth doll and the picture on top of the package.

The woman's expression softened slightly. “Follow me, dear,” she told her. Mal followed with a single sigh. The woman, Cora Mal guessed, chattered as they walked. “Zoe's been missing her doll. She'll be thankful that you got it back.”

Mal couldn't help but smile. Cora gestured to a doorway. Mal peeked her head in. “Mommy, when can I get Lydie back?” A small voice, Zoe, asked.

Cora stepped forward and cleared her throat. “Miss,” Cora paused, glancing over at Mal who mouthed her full name. “Miss Malinoë here has your doll for you,” Cora explained.

Zoe gasped and ran over. Her head only reached Mal's torso but that didn't stop her from taking up the whole room with her presence. Mal gave her the doll and watched as Zoe cheered. “Thank you for bringing Lydie back to me, Miss Malinoë!” Zoe chirped, a bright smile on her face.

Mal patted her on the head awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do. “I was in the area,” Mal excused before moving past her to Penelope. She made sure to lower her voice. “Hermes told me to give this to you,” Mal whispered.

Penelope blinked and nodded thankfully. “Thank you, Lady Malinoë,” Penelope said, a slight bow to her frame.

“It's fine,” Mal commented. “I should get going. I need to make my dinner. Gods know I'll have to go scavenge…” Mal muttered to herself.

Zoe gasped. “Mommy, Auntie Cora, can Miss Malinoë have dinner with us?” Zoe shouted. Mal twitched slightly, spooked by the sudden noise. Then the words caught up with Mal and her brain faltered.

“Miss Malinoë is likely busy, sweetheart. But it would be no bother for her to stay if she wanted to,” Penelope explained. Cora nodded at Penelope.

Mal debated things. She did want to space out the little food she had left and she couldn't restock until tomorrow at the earliest. And since they offered… “If you promise it's not a bother.”

Zoe's smile was worth it.

---

When Mal left the next day, it was with a bag heavy with supplies and a promise to a child to visit that Mal would not break.

Mal stopped back at the village for the morning as Mal suspected that would be where she would find Hermes.

Sure enough, there was a man perched on one of the houses’ roofs who looked to be in his early twenties with fluffy brown hair and soft curls, the colour identical to Calix's and a few shades off Zoe's. He shared the mischievous features and lilt to their lips.

It was obvious that this was Hermes. Mal strode forward and looked at him. “Lord Hermes. I've completed your quest,” Mal told him bluntly. She desperately wanted to add that she had done more than she had to but Mal bit her tongue.

Hermes grinned. “You did!” He cheered. Then he grew serious. “I haven't checked in on Zoe in a couple weeks and she was kicked out of her home…” he trailed off, fixing his eyes on Zoe's house. “Keep the bag I gave you as payment. Apollo’s next, he's on Delos. Coordinates are in the bag.”

Mal checked it and grabbed the paper. There were indeed coordinates on it. She glanced back up at Hermes who had moved from the roof to the doorway of Zoe's house. He glanced back at her.

“Uncle Hades has my vote,” he confirmed. “I'm glad you're doing this, I miss him. I've had to pull several psychopomp shifts on top of my messenger duties to make up for Hecate moving to desk duty. You never know how much paperwork someone does in a day until you have to fill the void left behind,” Hermes mused. “I'll speed up your travel as much as I can. Call it a thanks from your favourite cousin for helping out his daughter.”

With that, he disappeared.

Mal summoned her wings and stretched both her wings and her body to relieve the ache from her exhausting week.

After she input the coordinates, Mal flung herself into the air and set out for Delos.

Chapter Text

Mal flew for a long while, stopping periodically for breaks when her wings grew too tired to hold her up despite the wind allowing her to glide.

Time had sort of abandoned her at this point, after all this travelling it honestly didn't feel like something to worry about aside from wanting to see Ben. Either way, Mal didn't care as night fell.

She was too focused on the stars.

In the middle of nowhere, they were bright and beautiful in a way they had never been on the Isle or at Auradon High. With the freedom abandoning her worries of time gave her, Mal had the whole night to admire them until she at least settled to sleep or the sun rose.

Her father had been the one to teach her about the constellations. It had been one of the rare nights where both Hadie and Mal had been unable to sleep and to keep them occupied and relaxed, Dad had taken the both of them to the highest point of the Isle and pointed out the constellations they could see and tell them about the ones that they couldn't.

Honestly, it made sense why he did it himself. Dad never dismissed an opportunity to insult Zeus and he was the cause of a lot of constellations.

Mal raised a hand to the sky, reaching for nothing. The stars were one of those that urged on her wish to fly as high as she could and marvel before the world below.

Mal flapped her wings to carry out that wish before she caught herself.

How much sleep had she gotten?

Mal cursed.

---

After taking a nap and regaining the sanity her sleep-deprived self lost, Mal once again took to the skies in search of Apollo.

At some point in the middle of the night, Mal had found her way onto Delos’ grounds so all she needed to do was just track that god down.

Bright light caught her eyes and then dimmed. Mal dove down towards it. Setting down, Mal glanced around the field and immediately lifted herself back into the air at the sight of flowers which were everywhere.

They were beautiful flowers, six-petaled flowers reaching to the sky in pillars of lavender. Hyacinth flowers.

Mal took extra effort to hover over the ground so as not to kill the flowers. She wasn't sure if that would anger Apollo or not.

Carefully flying above the ground, Mal spotted a tree in the field in front of her. It was surprisingly tall and sitting below it was a man who she assumed to be Apollo.

His skin was suntanned, hair wavy and golden and his eyes were a brilliant gold that pierced through Mal when he focused them on her.

She warily approached, her wings beating the air. “Lord Apollo.” Mal awkwardly tilted her body in a slight bow which destabilized her enough that she almost crashed into the ground. Apollo looked like he was holding back laughter as Mal hurriedly stabilized herself. “What do you need me to do?”

Apollo sighed gloomily. “My lyre's gone. I need someone to find it for me.” He sighed again. Mal felt a headache growing. She was not a fan of the ‘oh woe is me’ types which Apollo appeared to be at the moment.

“So you want me to go get it for you?” Mal asked tiredly. Apollo gasped, body language completely changing.

“No! Touching it would incinerate you!” Apollo shrieked. Mal raised an eyebrow. “Only I can touch it.”

“So you need me to find it and then tell you where it is so you can go get it?” Mal questioned once again.

Apollo shook his head. “I couldn't ask that of you!” Then get to the point. Mal almost said that, but she bit back the retort. “We'll go together!” He grinned.

Mal glanced at him before nodding. “Let's go then.” She had too little sleep for this.

---

“Why are you hovering?” Apollo asked, slight confusion invading his expression. Mal took a tired breath. She really needed to sleep more than six hours every day.

“I murder plants when I touch them,” Mal explained. “Ironic for a half-fae, isn't it?”

Apollo hummed. “Fae of Death and Life - New, special and unique - Bringer of Freedom,” Apollo recited. Mal snorted.

“What kind of poem is that? And bringer of freedom?” Mal asked a sarcastic tone to her voice.

Apollo grinned again. “It's a haiku, a wonderful style of poetry that no one in my family appreciates. It goes, five syllables, seven syllables, and five again,” he explained brightly. A vaguely mischievous smirk appeared on his face. “And freedom fits with the whole freeing your father thing.”

A chill ran down Mal's spine. Logically she knew that doing this would likely reveal herself to the gods, but she hadn't been faced with this so bluntly. Hephaestus hadn't referenced it, and Hermes referred only to her as a cousin in terms of parentage.

Apollo hopped up into the air so he could place a hand on her shoulder. His palm brought a welcome warmth. “Are you okay? Should I not have admitted the truth? Most people don’t like it when I do that,” Apollo asked, voice soft and gentle. Mal got the feeling she had thrown him headfirst into healing mode.

She shrugged him off. “I wasn't expecting you to say that,” was all Mal said. It didn't help that Mal couldn't stop the myths she had heard from chattering in her brain, mostly the bad ones about Apollo.

The god in question was glancing at her every time she looked away. He appeared to decide something before he started chattering.

“What's the Isle like?” He said out of nowhere. “I've been wondering how bad it is there, I can't look there so I can't give any blessings of mine. Wait no, that probably isn't the best thing to talk about… Want me to teach you how to make a poem?”

Apollo was surprisingly talkative but despite the onslaught of questions and random facts that Mal didn't ask for, she didn't mind. Like when Ben would just talk when she didn't want to but wanted the noise, Apollo seemed to be doing the same thing.

Speaking of, Apollo appeared to be dredging up a fun fact for her like he had been doing for the last thirty minutes. Not that Mal overly minded. It was interesting to get a peek at what the god of knowledge had compiled over the years.

“It's impossible to hum while you hold your nose,” Apollo said. He continued with his fun facts while Mal listened gladly. It was distracting her from the nasty ache in her wings. A fallen log was in front of them and Mal perched on it, the tree already dead.

She rubbed at her wings to stave off the ache. When Mal looked up, Apollo was watching her with those piercing gold eyes.

After several moments, Apollo sighed wearily. “Don't overwork yourself,” he said, stepping forward. “I'll heal the ache but you need to pace yourself,” he scolded, placing a hand on her wings, a warm glow coming from his palm.

The ache entirely disappeared. When Mal rolled her shoulders, testing it wouldn't come back, Apollo pushed her off the log.

Mal flailed instinctively before she met the dirt with a shriek. If she got dirt on her leather, she would not be happy, it took her a full day to dry it enough to be worn.

Then she realised that Apollo had shoved her into the field of hyacinths despite that they had significance to him. Her gaze shot up to the god who was now sporting a smirk.

“As penance for killing the hyacinths I've grown myself, you are ordered to not use your wings until you set off on your next quest,” Apollo declared, placing his hands on his hips. Mal had walked right into his trap and yet she wasn't that angry at the trickery.

“I think you've been spending too much time with Hermes,” Mal commented, getting to her feet and then brushing herself off. Apollo laughed.

“Probably,” Apollo grinned.

---

After a sleeping break which Mal was sure Apollo only fit in because he wanted her to get some sleep, they set out again. Mal was beginning to think that Apollo was purposely dragging it out purely to get Mal a chance to get a good meal and some sleep.

He did provide food for Mal and she had to admit, it was the best thing she had eaten since she had left. Not that Penelope and Cora's cooking was bad, Apollo was just either a really good cook or was really good at summoning food.

But now they were walking again and Apollo was filling the void with talking. “I never was that close with Uncle Hades. I was closer with Uncle Poseidon but I still visited him from time to time. Our relationship did become a bit strained after Hyacinthus’ death…” Apollo grew quieter before cheering up. “Hopefully he won't mind too badly. I know Hermes missed him. He'll say that he misses the free time since he needs to be free for shifts at a moment's notice but he also misses Uncle Hades. Hermes was always more attached to him than Father.”

There was a glowing light coming from a patch of hyacinths. When Apollo saw it he sighed. “I thought I hid it farther away…” he muttered, walking over to it. He lifted a glowing lyre from the flowers and turned to Mal.

“Thank you for helping me find my lyre!” Apollo chirped in a way that made Mal sure that Apollo had staged this. After a moment he grew serious.

Mal was realising that the bubbly personality was an act and the more serious one was Apollo’s honest self.

Apollo sighed again, eyes looking down at his lyre. “Thanks for listening to me talk. Only Artemis and Aphrodite do and they're busy a lot. I'll do my best to get Artemis on your side as well as vote for you myself,” Apollo explained.

Mal nodded thankfully, not sure what to do next. She felt the messenger bag heat up enough to distract her. Mal checked it and found a piece of paper inside. Just coordinates and the name Ares.

Mal didn't think before she held the paper out to Apollo and spoke. “Do you want to come with me?”

He grinned. “Really?” Mal nodded. “Then let's go! I have some poetry I'm working on that I can share with you!”

---

Apollo did have a lot of poetry in the works. Mal assumed it was because he had no one to bounce them off.

He had started trying to teach her how to make her own so that was fun. There were downsides.

Mostly Apollo made her sleep when she didn't have to. Mal only started getting a bit weird after two all-nighters in a row and that was easily fixed by having a hibernation day after. She mainly took her couple-hour power naps to give her wings a chance to rest.

Though it was nice to be fully rested. Mal knew she was sort of learning as she went when it came to how her body worked. She didn't want to test her limit on how long she could go without sleep or how long she could go without food.

Fae and Gods both worked differently to humans and were both more durable with the gods taking it to the extreme. Mal had no clue how she worked but that was something she probably wouldn't ever figure out.

Doing that would likely kill her in the process so that was a no-go.

“You're dipping again,” Apollo reminded, perched on a fiery horse as they travelled across whatever sea they were crossing. Mal flapped her wings, raising herself back up.

She was always conscious of the space between her and Apollo, she didn't want to get burnt by his horse lest she become a second Icarus.

The waves crashed below her as Apollo continued talking. “Sometimes I wonder why Artemis hates listening to my poems, surely they cannot be that bad,” Apollo grumbled. Mal nodded absentmindedly.

What was Ben doing right now? What was going on in the Underworld? Mal couldn't help but wonder if Hermes was taking another shift down there.

Mal found her gaze shifted down to the sea. “...What do you know about the underworld?” Mal asked hesitantly, voice quiet.

Apollo glanced over at her. “It's… dark when you're not in the spirit areas. Asphodel is full of flowers and trees, people mostly just wander through it. Elysium is where the houses are and all of them are mansions. Uncle Hades is always very busy, they don't have the concept of a workday without being behind down there. They're overworked to the point that I remember Hermes having to take over when Thanatos went on strike over a lack of vacation days and Thanatos is the ultimate workaholic,” he explained.

A smile automatically formed on Mal's face. It was nice hearing about the domestic side of the underworld. After all, she would end up there one day and people only talked about the places you could go after death.

Apollo seemed to catch onto her thoughts as he continued in that vein. “Thanatos isn't meant to bring the souls of animals but he has a big soft spot for them. Especially the fluffy ones. Hades keeps them in a section of the palace backyard and Cerberus plays with them sometimes. I think. I haven't been to the underworld in a century.”

Mal snorted. “Is he a cat or a dog person?” She asked.

“Cat! He likes both but he prefers cats since they don't jump all over him,” Apollo replied within a second. Mal gestured for him to continue. “Hecate visits the animal sanctuary a lot too. I'm ninety-five per cent sure that the whole black cat and witches thing is purely because of Hecate's soft spot for the furry beasts.”

Her smile grew. Her dad hadn't told her much about the mundane things about the underworld, mostly of how miserable the paperwork was. Hadie would love the animals if his love for the occasional birds that flew through the barrier said anything. Mal was pretty sure that Nautilus the seagull was still as fat as ever under Hadie’s care.

“My brother Hadie has a pet seagull named Nautilus,” Mal told Apollo. “Nautilus is a little devil who is half the Isle’s body weight with how fat he is. I expect several attempts on Nautilus’ life now that I'm no longer stopping them from making him into food.” She couldn't help but laugh at the end.

Apollo matched her laugh. “Birds are little demons. I can't count the amount that have tried to climb onto my chariot when it's in resting mode. And then all the ones that have left their feces on it!” Mal held back laughter at Apollo’s indignant expression. “The only good ones are crows and even then they're all over the place.”

“I think screech owls are nice. But I might be biased,” Mal sort of joked. Sort of because she wasn't sure if that was a joke or not. She didn't have a very developed sense of humour. Apollo laughed so she counted it as one. “Otherwise, I think dogs are alright. Carlos has Dude but if I were to have any type of dog, I'd probably have a Cerberus like Dad.”

Apollo gave her a mischievous look. “What would you name them if you did have one?” he asked.

Without hesitation Mal replied. “Kyon, Chien and Hund. One for each head.” Then the words caught up with her as Apollo gasped.

“That's Dog, Dog and Dog!” Apollo cried. Mal covered her eyes with her hands, her cheeks going red at the stupid suggestion. “We need to talk about your naming conventions!”

“Dad named his dog Spot! I have some room!” Mal defended, peeking from out of her hands to make sure she was stable in the air.

Apollo screeched. “That's not an excuse!”

“AT LEAST THE DIFFERENT LANGUAGES ARE FUN!” Mal shrieked in response. Apollo gasped in mock offence.

Mal was distracted by the ground in front of them. Dipping, Mal descended until she landed on the ground, relishing the feeling of the ground after so long in the air.

Apollo hopped from his horse onto the ground behind her, his horse charging off into the sky, arcing towards the sun. Mal pulled the compass out of her bag to check how close they were to their destination.

“The compass says we're not far off,” Mal commented to herself. Apollo made a noise behind her.

Mal glanced back at him in confusion. “Oh! Ares is at his coliseum,” Apollo determined. At her expression, Apollo explained. “Ares bought the ruins of a coliseum and revamped it a while back. It is now certified for gladiator fights though he's missing the gladiators.”

She shifted her eyes to the horizon. Mal didn't like that it was a coliseum specifically. The god being Ares made the foreboding feeling worse. “We're not that far away from it,” Apollo mused. He glanced at Mal. “I'll walk there with you but then I'll have to go when we arrive.”

Mal nodded and walked forward, her steps unsteady on the sand. They walked in mostly silence, wading through the tall grass.

“I had a good time talking to you,” Apollo said quietly. “I hope your trials continue well.” He fell quiet and Mal looked at him. “I don't think I need to be worried about injury ruining your chances, you wouldn't let that happen,” he finally said.

Walking forward, Apollo picked up an asphodel flower. He stepped forward and placed it in the lapel of her jacket. “I wish you luck and again, I'll try to get Artemis on your side so you don't need to endeavour to find her.”

With that, Apollo dissolved into light leaving Mal in a field of grass and the occasional flowers.

Chapter Text

Mal stood listless in the field of grass and flowers. She could barely see a faint building on the horizon.

She would admit that she had gotten used to Apollo’s presence over the past couple of days they were together. Still, Mal had to suck it up to get back to Ben.

Trudging along warily, Mal headed through the field of grass towards the coliseum.

While she walked, Mal found herself reflexively adjusting everything she had. Her jacket was closed around her chest, she made sure her boots were fully laced and double-knotted so they wouldn't come undone. The sword she took from the Harpy Village was tucked into her belt, and the few knives she had brought with her were scattered around her body, where they were easily accessed but impossible to see.

It was also down to the small things. When she found a flat rock not far from the coliseum, Mal organized everything so that it could be easily carried if she needed to make a getaway.

She had gotten into the habit of stuffing things into her bag but now Mal was fixing that problem. Food was at the bottom, then clothes and then her backup weapons.

Mal performed one last check, making sure all her weapons were in place and her leather was protecting her before she strode forward to the coliseum.

It was made of tall stone and there was a large archway Mal walked through. Tunnels were going left, right and in front. Light filtered through the one in front so Mal chose that one.

When her eyes had adjusted to the bright light, Mal found herself in a sandy arena. Stands circled it, reaching to the sky. Three tunnels aside from the one Mal had entered were interspersed along the walls. Mal felt exposed down here, like the non-existent people in the stands were picking out every flaw.

However, that might be because of the man sitting in the thronelike chair on a balcony at the top of the coliseum.

His appearance was obscured with a helmet. He was dressed in old Greek armour and was obviously a god. Ares.

Mal found her hands wandering to her sheathed sword before she caught herself. She forced herself into a bow.

“Lord Ares. How may I help you?” Mal asked. Ares laughed, a chaotic and wild thing. She immediately felt her body move to be on guard. Mal shifted so it was less obvious but she still felt Ares’ gaze on her.

“In order to get my vote, you have to earn it,” Ares declared, his voice carrying the same tone as his laugh. “If you can win three rounds, I'll vote for you. If you can't, you leave without a vote. Understood?”

Mal nodded. She had faith in her fighting ability. It had carried her through many fights since she was six, it wouldn't give up on her now.

“When do we get started?” Mal questioned, her tone as even and calm as it always was when she was facing off against a threat. 

Ares laughed again. “Go get ready in the catacombs while I get your opponents.” He teleported away in a flash of red light.

Mal stiffly followed her orders and quickly found a preparation room. She tested the armour's weight to see if it would be worth swapping.

It didn't take her long to deem the armour heavy enough to wreck her fighting. Mal's whole stick was agility with powerful strikes. She wasn't sure if using the provided weapons would be a good idea or not due to her lack of experience with them.

Eventually, Mal decided not to change anything and instead gave herself a run down for any problems. Every weapon was in perfect condition just like they had been earlier and Mal had nothing else to do but wait.

---

Mal sat stiffly on the table where the armour and weapons had been before she had pushed them to the floor to steal their place. Her legs twitched, wanting to pace desperately as she waited for Ares to return.

It would be better if she saved that pent-up energy for the fighting though. Mal didn't want to exhaust herself before the fight.

Her choice to sit and gather strength was proven to be a good idea as Ares flashed into existence in front of her. He stared at her with glowing red pinpricks through his helmet, sending shivers down her spine.

“It's nearly time for your fight,” Ares said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Mal nodded, making sure to keep her confident air. “Who are my opponents? And what are the rules?”

She got the feeling that the god in front of her was smiling. Mal could see it in her head; a visceral smile, lips pulled over sharp teeth, basically waiting for blood to be painted over his face and way too similar to the few VKs who took too much after their parents and had to be executed for their crimes.

Those red pinpricks stared into her soul and Mal found herself bristling as he spoke. “Simply the mares of the late King Diomedes of Thrace,” Ares taunted. “As for the rules…” he trailed off, staying silent for a long moment. Mal got the feeling he might have forgotten that rules were needed. “Shout ‘I give up’ if you want to tap out,” he finally added.

It probably wasn't the best idea to question him but Mal needed to get the boundaries of what she could and couldn't do down. “No rules about maiming or murder?” Mal questioned.

Ares waved a hand. “This is a gladiator fight. I'm only letting you tap out cause Aphrodite likes you and your boyfriend as a couple, your opponents know this is a fight to the death,” he explained. Mal wanted to question Aphrodite's involvement only for Ares to bulldoze her words. “Now, I'll let you get yourself prepared. I'll call you when it's time.”

Without giving her a chance to speak, Ares once again disappeared.

Mal stumbled backwards and slammed into the table. King Diomedes… King Diomedes… An annoyed growl left her lips at the lack of memories sparking into her mind.

She had so much knowledge at her fingertips yet she had no clue who this king was. Power too and yet that was no help… unless.

Tugging on the spark of power, fanning it into a flame, Mal scoured the network of souls waiting to be summoned, hunting down someone who knew King Diomedes. Like when she was summoning the spirits under her father’s control, it was a unique mix of instincts and memorized instructions.

Despite that, summoning them was different this time.

Instead of them immediately appearing in front of them and her flame being drained, Mal was greeted by the flame she envisioned her power as growing taller and a cascade of voices, rushing over each other yet not overwhelming in the slightest.

It was barely a few seconds yet Mal felt like she had been changed.

She shook it off when the spirit she summoned appeared in front of her. Mal could unpack that later with all the other things she had compartmentalized.

He was a young boy, maybe thirteen, who looked to be a servant boy from his clothing. He glanced up and bowed immediately.

“What's your name?” Mal asked, closing her eyes. She still didn't like seeing kids as ghosts.

“Iason, my lady,” Iason replied, voice even and calm.

Mal nodded to herself, noting down the name. “You know King Diomedes, correct?” Mal questioned. Iason nodded, keeping his head lowered. “Tell me about his mares.”

“They eat flesh and are swift and strong. They're how I died,” Iason explained, getting straight to the point. Mal nodded, thinking things over.

They hopefully wouldn't be too bad a problem, Mal could fly up if they got too rowdy and she had no qualms about killing a bunch of horses. Not that humans were too different. Realistically, Mal had no moral code just like all the other VKs, instead, they adopted their rules as one. If she broke the rule to not kill anyone who didn't try to kill you first, which would be unlikely in the situation, her fate would be left up to the other leaders.

Iason moving in the corner of her eye was what shocked Mal out of her thoughts. She was becoming so distractible recently.

Clearing her throat, Mal spoke up. “Thank you for the knowledge, Iason. You are dismissed.”

Iason bowed again before disappearing. Then Ares’ voice echoed through the room.

“ It’s time. ”

Her spine automatically stiffened at Ares’ voice. Mal slipped out of the room to the arena. The tunnel she had walked through closed behind her and all the others were closed as well.

Ares was watching from the highest spot in the stands, the throne centred at the very top. With a flick of his wrist, one of the two closed tunnels opened.

Mal slid her sword from its sheath within a few seconds as it slowly cracked open. When it finally fully opened, several auburn horses ran out, all with eyes of vibrant red.

An awful screech came from one of the horses as it charged in her direction. Mal glanced around, perfectly calm despite the threat.

She saw a bit of wood sticking out of the wall, just enough to grab onto and took it. Ares didn't give her any rules about not using the arena as a weapon, so Mal went along with it.

Grabbing onto the bit of wood, Mal used it as leverage to launch herself into the air. She landed on the back of one of the horses, stabbing down with her sword.

It squealed as it collapsed, its pierced heart pumping its blood all over the sand. Mal spared no time before moving on to her next target.

Mal stabbed forward.

She had taught Patience and Pierce that move. Not that it saved Patience in the end.

She slashed violently, cutting down another foe.

Anthony had saved her with a similar slash. That was his first kill.

She launched herself off the corpse of one of her foes with her sword straight, reaching to stab one of the last seven.

The night she met Carlos she had used the alleyway walls as leverage to jump around his attackers while she scared them off.

Mal did a twist in midair, ripping her sword through two. Four left.

Evie had tried to teach Mal to dance once. All it did was add more grace to Mal's already graceful moves when fighting.

One tried to bite her wrist. In return, Mal switched her hold on her hilt on the blade so it pointed backwards and stabbed the horse behind her.

Mal had spent weeks perfecting that move no matter how many times she was told to practice other techniques by Maleficent. It was worth it when someone tried to get Mal from behind during a fight.

She ducked out of a bite and stabbed upwards, falling backwards and catching herself in a roll. The horse fell to the ground dead behind her.

One thing Mal had been taught was that revenge was important when wronged. Iason had been wronged but couldn't get revenge himself. Mal would do it for him.

Mal whipped a knife out of a hidden sheath and threw it into the throat of a horse with a neat flick of her wrist.

Most groups on the Isle had one chosen weapon. The younger ones tended towards knives as they were easiest to get, and the gangs picked out weapons depending on how easy they were to get and if they had someone good with that weapon with them. Mal was one of the rare few who learnt multiple weapons even if it was under Maleficent's behest.

The final horse reared and charged. Mal swung her sword in a neat line, slitting its throat easily.

It collapsed against the ground and Mal was left panting.

The battle was over. So why did she still want to fight?

There was a hot and sticky liquid on her hands. Mal didn't have to look down to know it was blood from her mindless slaughter.

Blood mixed with sand. Her boots slid into the concoction that shouldn't exist with each step. Mal would need to wash her leather after this.

It had been years since she had shed so much blood.

---

The armour room Mal had been in before had a sink in there. While she waited for Ares to come get her again, she scrubbed the blood off her hands and did her best to clean it off her leather without leaving her unable to wear her leather.

She quickly moved on to her sword and knife. It was a tedious task, but one that always calmed her down. Gods know she needed it after that.

Mal always hated her instinctual reaction in a fight; going straight for the throat. It was easy to end a fight with its help, Mal always knew where to hit to kill but when she wasn't trying to kill, it wasn't fun.

And when she did have to kill… It usually took her a bit to calm down from the rampage she would go on.

There was a sharpening stone and Mal grabbed it. She evenly dragged it across her knife blade where it was slightly dull from disuse. The sound was hideous but it kept her grounded.

When the knife she had used was done, Mal moved on to her others. As soon as she finished, Ares appeared. Mal got the feeling he was giving her a chance to clear her mind for her next fight. She didn't know why, but she was thankful.

Then Mal looked up, meeting those unsettling red pinpricks. Right, this wasn't the time to be vulnerable.

“Your next opponent is a manticore. Once again, shout ‘I give up’ to tap out of the fight,” Ares explained. This time Mal immediately clicked on what she would be fighting. “You have five minutes to prepare yourself.”

He flashed away again, leaving Mal to herself. A manticore would be a problem. Mal didn't have to have a lot of knowledge about them to know that.

From her limited knowledge, Mal knew that they were lions with human heads and scorpion tails that shot poisoned spikes that were meant to cause pain to incapacitate their enemy. Though her dad mentioned that sometimes manticores could be born with a genetic condition which basically removed the human head and intellect turning them into an even more deadly lion. Those manticores were supposed to be more dangerous than their more human counterparts.

She wouldn't be surprised if Ares had got his hands on one of them.

Mal shook her head, forcing her brain back on track. Manticore poison wasn't deadly but it was painful. And the hybrids were durable according to Dad. If he was right about the poison, Mal would have to wait for it to wear off.

“ It’s time. ”

Ares’ voice rang out again, words exactly the same as last time. Mal barely restrained herself from jumping in her seat. She certainly wasn't expecting it this time.

Mal stood in one swift moment. She quickly checked herself over, which was swiftly becoming a habit before fights, and calmly walked out into the arena.

This would be a difficult fight but Mal would persist.

Her earlier guess was right as the manticore was a lion with a scorpion tail and no human features in sight. Then Mal realised that the manticore was already free as it flung a tail spine at her.

She dodged at the last minute, rolling along the still-bloody sand. The spine thudded into the wooden stands behind her. Mal drew her sword and cursed.

It took a second for her to summon her wings for maximum dodging ability and almost a second too late. A spine grazed past her neck before embedding itself in the wall behind her.

Scorching hot pain burst from the graze and Mal growled. If it was going to hurt her, Mal was going to hurt it.

The manticore pounced, and Mal swiftly dodged, slashing out with her sword. Sticky blood, which was a shade of black, splattered on her face from a cut she left on the manticore.

It roared and swiped her with its paw, Mal couldn't quite dodge in time and she was hit into the arena wall.

Mal made a beeline for the bit of wood from earlier and grabbed onto it again, swinging herself into the air.

She settled for taking the bird's approach, which meant Mal was dodging while also diving down to get the occasional slash on it.

It took a long time of picking at the manticore to show any improvement in her situation. Her trick of leaving small cuts along its side when given an opportunity didn't seem to be enough.

Her momentary pause was enough of a chance for the manticore to send a spine into her left shoulder. A shriek tore itself from her throat as agonizing pain erupted from her shoulder blade, worse than anything Mal had felt before.

Instead of giving in to the pain, Mal did what she did best and took her pain and changed it into rage.

Without any care for pain or further injury, Mal dropped down and sliced repeatedly at the manticore, scrabbling like a wild animal.

It roared and Mal matched it, scratching and tearing with a vengeance for her suffering. She ripped, tore and even bit until the manticore fell limp on the sand and even then she didn't stop until Mal was sure it was dead.

With pain coursing through her shoulder and superficial cuts on all her exposed skin, Mal stood still, sword clutched tightly in her fisted hands, fuming.

Movement came from her right and Mal spun, raising her sword only to see it was the tunnel to the preparation room opening again. Glancing around, Mal walked over to the tunnel and made her way to the preparation room.

This time it had a hard bed that was more of a bunch of blankets and a pillow on the floor than a bed. Mal settled in on the blanket to rest off the poison until Ares came to get her for her next and last fight.

---

Ares didn't come get her for several hours, long after the pain had abated enough for her to get some sparse sleep.

The sleep itself was lucky, sleeping in new places was difficult and with Ares nearby, it was a surprise Mal was able to sleep for more than five minutes, even if she was waking up at every sound.

When Ares hadn't come to grab her after the pain faded, Mal slipped out to head to the arena. Was she ready for her next fight? Absolutely not. Did she want to get this over with? Absolutely.

The god was waiting for her when she arrived. He had attached a cape that looked like it was splattered with blood with a boar head painted on the fabric to the back of his armour and a large and heavy-looking sword in his grip.

There was what looked like a giant timer where Ares had been sitting before, frozen on three minutes.

“It's time for your final trial,” Ares said. Mal wanted to question when fights had turned into trials but she decided not to. “Your goal is to last three minutes without falling unconscious against me. I will limit myself to attacks that won't severely injure you and once again, to back out say ‘I give up’.”

It felt like her heart immediately stopped. Immediately Mal wondered if it was worth it. She only had three votes out of the eight she was aiming for. Would it be worth it to get the vote but take the risk of possible death? Sure, Mal knew Ares promised to limit his attacks but Mal wasn't sure she trusted him.

Then an odd sense of calm washed over her. Mal was the leader of the Dragons and one of the council members. To have both those roles, Mal had to be willing to sacrifice for her crew. This time it would simply be one she had done rarely but had done before, putting her life on the line.

On each rare occasion where that happened, Mal had walked with her head high and had been prepared to die. When she didn't, Mal had rejoiced and had been scolded for her recklessness. This was simply another one of those situations.

Ares seemed to have taken her silence as hesitancy. “You don't have to fight me, though you won't have my guaranteed vote,” he told her.

Mal raised her head to meet those red pinpricks. “I'll do it on one condition.” Ares laughed.

“You're not the one who can do that here.” Mal felt he was smiling again, this time crueller.

“You would be so cruel to not tell someone who knows my friends and family if something goes wrong?” Mal questioned. She stared down Ares until he laughed again.

“You think so low of me that I wouldn't do that without a condition dictating it?” Ares laughed. In response, Mal rolled her shoulders.

“Then let's get started,” Mal challenged before she lost the determination. Ares motioned for her to stand at the tunnel she had entered and placed himself below the timer.

He flicked his hand and the timer started.

Mal launched herself to the side, wings appearing from her back. Ares jumped forward, slashing where she was in an instant.

Her wings beat the air, shooting her over to the opposite side, Ares’ sword brushing the sole of her boot. He dashed forward again, leaving a cut down her arm before Mal dodged away.

She glanced at the timer. Two minutes and thirty seconds. Mal dodged again, ignoring the blood dripping from her arm.

Mal made it another minute before she gained her worst injury. Pain erupted in her back but further and she couldn't help but spare a glance over her shoulder.

The feathers on her left wing were ruffled and Mal didn't need them to be physical to know they would be soaked with blood from the cut halfway down. 

Hysteria rose in Mal's chest. She couldn't even remember if she knew her wings could be damaged. What if they couldn't heal? That cut didn't look good from the small glance she got, would it make her unable to fly?

Ares slashed again, leaving a cut down Mal's side which shocked her out of her hysterical thoughts. She couldn't believe she had gotten caught up in her thoughts again.

Mal dodged backwards, her eyes flicking to the clock. Fifty-nine seconds. Ares slashed again, Mal darting away with a speed she had been too distracted to utilize earlier. 

Thirty-four.

Ares struck out again, leaving a small cut on her cheek. Mal growled under her breath, dashing away. Her wings were unsteady, to say the least. The injured one worked but it was weaker than the other one which left Mal teetering slightly to the left with each flap.

Twenty-one.

Ares was getting swifter with each strike, Mal wasn't sure if he was growing desperate or not. Her wing felt like it was burning with each flap.

Ten seconds.

Another strike from Ares hit, cutting neatly through her leather and opening the skin on her leg.

She was slowing now as the adrenaline faded.

Five seconds.

Every cut now burned, her blood leaving hot trails down each piece of skin it touched.

Three.

Two.

One.

A buzzer sounded and Mal collapsed onto the sand, the blaring sound taking all the strength left in her.

“Good job,” Ares commented, walking into view. Mal gasped for breath after all the running and moving her heart racing.

Her vision was starting to get blurry around the edges. Mal tried to blink it away and it only got worse.

It was only as her vision fully faded away that Mal remembered that adrenaline crashes sucked for her.

---

There was a soft song in the dark where Mal lay. Otherwise, there wasn't much else and she barely could remember why she was there.

Her usually trusted memories had explained that she had gotten hurt and Mal's instinct said that she was resting here while she healed.

Something about blood seeping into feathers.

Mal wasn't scared. It felt safe here.

There was a warm caress and Mal leaned into it despite herself. It reminded her of Patience. She could see her in the distance, her teal hair swinging in a non-existent wind.

Mal pushed herself up and approached silently. Patience’s figure morphed as she turned to see her, taking on the form of a man with tired-looking features and fluffy hair like a cloud or sheep. White feathery wings extended from his back.

He stared at her for a moment. Mal wasn't sure if she had seen him before in this void.

“If you're well enough to come here then you should be well enough to go back,” he mused to himself. “Though Mom told me to keep you here until you were fully healed…”

Not a single sound came from Mal when she opened her mouth to speak. Frowning, she tried again and was successful this time. “Let me go.”

She wasn't quite sure why she was so insistent on leaving. Everything seemed hazy here and had a weird smell that made her feel hazier. Mal decided that was why she wanted to leave.

The man sighed. “Alright,” he said softly. He raised a hand and brushed a finger over her forehead. “Take it easy when you wake,” he warned before everything went white.

---

Everything seemed to snap together the moment Mal opened her eyes.

Her mind raced as she jolted into a sitting position. What was that? Mal scoured her memories and came up with an option for who the man was. Hypnos.

If it was the god of sleep, it would make slight sense. But why would he stick her there? And who was the ‘mom’ he mentioned?

Mal shook her head, clearing her thoughts, to focus on her surroundings. She was in the makeshift bed in the preparation room again and the room was otherwise empty aside from a piece of paper and a first aid kit.

She stretched, body slightly aching from disuse, and walked over to the paper and first aid kit. Mal glanced down at the first aid kit, her eyes falling on the bandages. 

She glanced down at the cuts scattered around her body and sighed. Mal wasn't sure if she was glad Ares hadn't bandaged her wounds or annoyed that she had to do it herself.

Then Mal moved on to the paper.

Left you some supplies to tend your wounds with. You gave me a challenge. Like Hercules used to.

Owlhead wants you to meet her in her nearby temple when you've woken up from whatever Hypnos threw you in. You can’t miss it.

You got a week and a half before the council votes on Hades’ freedom. Would've been two weeks but you slept for three days.

-You know who I am

A week and a half? No, three days?

Mal felt her heart speed up at the thought. How long was Hypnos planning on keeping her asleep if she hadn't gotten him to wake her up?

Warmth dripped down her arm and Mal glanced down. The cut there was bleeding sluggishly again.

She sighed and grabbed the first aid kit to tend to her wounds. Compartmentalizing was her best friend while she was out here.

Chapter Text

Mal wandered towards the marble building on the edge of her vision. It was set on the edge of a road. It greatly unsettled Mal, but she entered anyway. Standing inside was a woman in Greek armour, with evenly cut brown hair and sharp features. An owl was sitting on her shoulder.

Mal didn't have to pay attention to the owl to know the woman was Athena. Mal bowed as the goddess turned to her. The goddess’ grey eyes focused on Mal, her eyes laying her soul bare.

What was it about the gods that made their eyes so terrifying?

She shook off the unsettling energy and spoke. “Lady Athena, how may I help you?” Mal asked. She straightened from her bow and momentarily grimaced. The nasty ache from Ares’ trials hasn't gone away yet.

“You know of my flute, correct?” The goddess’ voice was regal and even. Mal hurriedly nodded. “I would like you to go collect it from Arachne.”

“Arachne?” The words slipped from Mal's throat before she could stop it.

Athena sighed almost imperceptibly. “That little spider and her children took it. Going to take it back from her is just a waste of time. You do it.” Mal got the feeling Athena was faking her indifference. Though that suspicion was second to Mal's confusion.

“I thought she was a mortal,” Mal said to herself. Athena waved her hand.

“I made her immortal when I cursed her,” she excused. “Now, head along now. Your compass is already calibrated.”

Athena stared at Mal until she left, head reeling. Something was unsettling about the goddess. Mal wasn't sure if it was the way Athena would scan her for weaknesses at every movement, those grey eyes holding too much wisdom for someone who looked like a young adult, or even Athena's patron animal being that of an owl.

Mal summoned and spread her wings, feeling Athena's eyes on her back. She had the feeling Athena wasn't thrilled that Mal had the wings of her sacred animal despite it also being her father's.

---

Feathers fluttered down as Mal picked at her wings. She plucked a feather that was twisted with a wince.

She had realised not that long ago that getting blood in her feathers wasn't the problem with the cut on her wing, it was the messed up feathers that stopped her flight. Though it was weird how instead of aligning her feathers like Hadie’s seagull did when they were out of place, Mal had to remove hers and wait for them to regenerate.

Another ghostly feather fell, dissolving into nothing when it met the ground. Mal flexed her wings and deemed them ready to fly.

Mal would honestly declare this quest one of the weirdest, if only for how the travelling was going.

First, her wings weren't working the best despite the cut having healed, her feathers Mal now knew, then Mal kept seeing nymphs or people trying to wave her down.

It sent shivers down Mal's spine. Something was just not right about any of this.

The lack of details for the quest wasn't helping either. Mal had no idea if she was going to face a human-spider hybrid or a normal spider. It could be either and Mal wouldn't be able to plan for it.

Would she be in for a fight against a monster or a horde of spiders? An involuntary shiver ran down her spine. Mal wasn't arachnophobic, she couldn't afford to be, but she intensely despised anything with more than four legs. And if there was a bug with less than four legs, she hated that too.

Her hatred of bugs was quite normal on the Isle, the little devils would ruin any edible food and sometimes they brought illness with them. Many people also just hated how they looked in general. Mal was one of those people.

She would set fire to them if she had the chance just to get rid of the feeling of those creatures crawling across her skin.

Mal violently shook her head, turning her mind to her flight. She honestly had no clue where she was and where she was going, just that it was in Greece.

Once again, Mal found herself wondering what she would be walking into here. Her fingers automatically found their way to the cuff of her leather jacket in a nervous tick before she caught herself.

Mal might have better access to clothes now, but her leather was the culmination of a year's worth of work done by Evie. Plus most of her leather was trash leather from furniture and Mal didn't want to break it. Auradon wouldn't be able to get it right if she had it fixed and Evie would struggle to find the materials.

What Mal wouldn't do to be nine again, without any worries to do with Auradon and instead the familiar ones of the Isle. Mal knew she was never a child child , she had somehow managed to age her mental self up enough to be responsible and more adaptable to trauma while still fundamentally having a child’s brain and thought process after all, but she did think of that age as her childhood.

A terrible childhood but it still was the closest she had to one.

Her eyes found their way to the sunset. It was beautiful up here. Like on the Isle when Mal would climb onto the top of the highest building and watch the sun.

Mal shook her head again. This is why she didn't like being unprepared, if there was a chance of death without her expecting it, Mal got sentimental. Mal wasn't a fan of sentimentality when she had other things on her plate.

Suddenly, Mal was brought out of her thoughts by something off about the sky. Minutes ago, it had been perfectly clear. Now, storm clouds were growing and expanding at an unnatural rate.

Mal wasn't sure if she could fly through that. But at the same time, it would extend her travel time and Mal only had around a week and a half to get this goal down. Athena's temple had only been half a day's walk but Mal was running on borrowed time and she had no clue how long it would take for her to get to Arachne's den.

And what would happen in Archne's den-- Mal was getting distracted again. Mal furrowed her eyes in the direction of the storm clouds. 

She hadn't figured out if her wings were water resistant as she took the little rainfall she had encountered as break times, nor had Mal figured out how they would fare against strong winds.

That wasn't even getting into the rest of her body. Maleficent's specific type of faerie, and by extension Mal's, tended to fare how their bird would in weather. Or that's what Maleficent said once when the faerie had a bout of sanity and was focused on teaching Mal the little she remembered about their kin.

Based on how Mal always felt ten times heavier when soaked, there probably wasn't a good chance of her making it through the storm without much effort.

With a sigh, Mal glided to the ground as soon as she got close enough to the storm to feel wet.

She settled for taking a nap and then trudging through the storm if it hadn't disappeared by then.

---

During her time on this earth, Mal hadn't been able to explore the world much. Despite that, Mal was more than skilled at survival.

Whether it was scavenging food, collecting and purifying water, or defending herself from wild animals, Mal did it all. 

Even before the gangs had allied together, Mal had slipped into the Jungle and taken cuttings of everything edible to grow back at the base along with scaling the cliff areas to take the eggs from seagull nests for special days.

Water was easy. Mal had long learnt the ratio of water to alcohol to purify it and knew how long it needed to boil to get maximum purification. Though the alcohol was a bit harder to source in Auradon, Mal managed to get her hands on several bottles of pure Isle vodka. The good type made by Zevon that you had to drink over weeks since a single shot that's not watered down would make the lightweights' blackout drunk immediately. 

(Mal was pretty sure that Zevon’s alcohol recipe used to be the recipe for a potion that would knock someone out before it started being used as alcohol.)

The self-defence was explanatory.

But despite all her skills, Mal had no clue how long a storm was supposed to last. The barrier messed with the first fourteen years of her life and after that, the only weather pattern it messed up was storms. Sometimes they would stretch on for days despite it being clear outside or they would last minutes. And there hadn't been one since Mal arrived in Auradon so she had no reference for how long it took for a storm to go away.

For all she knew, it could take the days it took on the Isle to go away and Mal would be stuck here waiting for it to go away.

A large drop of water fell from a leaf above Mal and she automatically shrieked her displeasure. Mal glared at the trunk for a long moment before giving in and taking the possible sign as it was.

She grumpily trudged through damned rain for a while. Mal felt like she was much heavier than before with each drop of water that met her skin. She was also acutely aware of her drenched hair sticking to her skin. Honestly, if this rain didn't let up in the next hour, Mal was going to cut her hair.

---

It was like her declaration reached the gods and they had come to a standstill with the rain lightening but not disappearing.

Mal didn't end up cutting her hair despite her wanting to. It might grow fast, but cutting it just because Mal didn't like her hair being wet wasn't worth it.

It still sucked.

She jumped over a large rock, boots plunging into the growing mud. An involuntary hiss of annoyance slipped from her lips. Or she thought it was her lips.

There was a soft rustling, near silent. Mal pretended to not notice and continued. If she waited to see if the one following her revealed themself, Mal would get the upper hand.

“Almossst there…” a feminine voice whispered, drawing out the ‘s’ in a way that no human could easily. There was a tree trunk that had fallen and looked hollow ahead. Mal didn't have to be a genius to know that was where her ‘ambusher’ was waiting.

Slowly, so slow that it didn't make a sound, Mal drew her sword from its sheath and waited to see if she had alerted her ambusher. When nothing happened, Mal strode forward like nothing was wrong.

With each step closer to the hollow trunk, the soft sounds of moving inside got louder and louder. Mal made sure to hold her sword so it couldn't be seen from inside the tree trunk but could also stab down at any moment's notice.

As soon as Mal walked within grabbing reach, a woman lunged at her. Her features were birdlike, and she was obviously a harpy. Mal couldn't help but question why all these monster women were naked and chalked it up to monsters not working by humans’ standards.

The harpy tried to bite Mal and she returned the favour by smacking her with her sword hilt. She shrieked, falling back onto the log. Mal readied her sword, ignoring the slight pain from what was most likely a re-opened cut.

The harpy lunged again, Mal fending her off a moment too late. The two of them fell over each other, momentum carrying them into a tree trunk.

A choked noise escaped Mal's throat, the air being knocked out of her. The harpy recovered at the same time, lunging in an attempt to bite her. Mal blocked her with her sword hilt, managing to stick it sideways in her mouth so Mal caught her teeth.

The harpy roared, though the sound was slightly muffled due to the sword, and lashed out with her nails. They scratched down Mal's face, drawing blood.

With a hiss, Mal kneed the harpy in the stomach and flipped the both of them over so Mal was sitting on top of the harpy’s hips.

She pressed her body down, forcing the sword into place while trapping the harpy. It took a bit of wriggling and careful positioning, but eventually, Mal managed to work one of her knives into her hand.

Mal didn't hesitate as she shoved the knife into the harpy’s heart. Mal met the harpy’s eyes as she gasped, as her eyes met Mal's with fear and confusion.

“You’re a bird. Owls are birds of prey and I am one of those,” Mal told her coldly. The harpy blinked before acceptance took over her expression. Mal slid her sword out from behind the harpy's teeth, before standing.

Mal glanced behind her, eyes fixed on the now unseeing ones of the harpy’s. She didn't feel guilty at all despite having killed a sentient being.

Did that make her a monster? Mal closed her eyes and walked away from the corpse. She would accept being a monster if she got to have her family with her.

Mal's hands would be stained red for the rest of her life and into her afterlife but she couldn't find it in her to be sad. Having no blood on their hands as a VK was like oil to water, Mal decided. Simply impossible.

(She wasn't guilty over taking a life, but guilty over not feeling guilty.)

---

The rain still hadn't cleared up and now Mal was awkwardly skirting the dry patches under the trees as she walked through the woods in a futile attempt to avoid the water.

She also had to try and avoid resting on any trees lest Mal decay them. Despite the constant risk of decay that came with being in a forest and the stupid rain, Mal enjoyed her walk.

She wasn't accepted here anymore but the trees, flowers and atmosphere were peaceful. Quiet. A complete opposite to the dark and foreboding cave at the other end of the clearing.

Mal warily eyed it and glanced at her compass. It was indeed pointing at the cave entrance. Mal glared at it on principle. Since the incident with the bull, Mal couldn't help but be wary of entering the cave. Especially since she knew she would be facing an enemy inside.

Her boots stuck to the stone and it took an odd amount of effort to take each step. She warily glanced down at her feet and a shudder ran down her spine.

Everywhere along the floor was sticky webbing, intricate patterns spreading and making it impossible to step anywhere without touching at least one.

It felt like someone dropped ice down her neck at the sight. Mal did not like spiders. More webs trailed along the walls, making hangings that fell from the walls and ceiling.

Mal had no clue how there was so much webbing. This had to be several centuries in the making, Arachne had certainly lived long enough, but how had no one found this place?

She hopped over a thicker web on the floor and got her shoulder caught in another one. Mal hissed when it came with her and ripped it off her shoulder.

It stuck to her hands and Mal would have to scrub herself for hours later to get the feeling away.

There was a curtain of spiderwebs ahead and Mal approached warily, ducking inside. The large cavern was dark with more webs draping from the ceiling.

Mal felt phantom legs crawling all over her and she shivered instinctively. Mal strode forward, desperately trying to ignore the horde of spiders moving to the corners of the cavern.

“Arachne,” Mal called, trying to keep the distaste for being around so many spiders out of her voice. “Show yourself.”

There was a flurry of spiders before a much larger one crawled forward. It was about the size of her arm and Mal bit back a nervous shiver.

Right, business. There was no time to pay attention to the uncomfortable goosebumps forming on her arms at the sight of the giant spider.

The spider's red eyes stared at her and Mal found the hairs on the back of her neck rising. The spider opened its fanged mouth and to Mal's horror, it spoke.

“Why are you here, little demigod?” Arachne's voice was warped and scratched as she attempted to get words out of a spider's vocal cords. “Stay for too long and I may not be able to stop my children from keeping you here forever.” She sighed wearily. “They have such a distaste for humans and gods. And a demigod is a mix of both things.”

Mal couldn't help but glance around the cavern and spotted several skeletons under piles of spiders and cobwebs. “Ath…” Mal's voice tapered off as she realised that maybe saying Athena's name wouldn't be the best.

“The goddess of wisdom sent me to retrieve her flute,” Mal settled on. Arachne's eyes, all eight of them, narrowed. “She said you had it.”

All the spiders in the room stilled before Arachne sighed, soft and mournful. “I see. She tricked you child, I have never laid eyes on that flute, and neither have my children.”

Anger settled deep in her gut. If Arachne was telling the truth, then Athena had sent her here, to deal with spiders , for nothing. Mal furrowed her eyes in anger and clenched her fists.

Then she caught sight of all the spiders in the room moving closer to her. Mal growled under her breath, meeting Arachne's central eyes. Somehow, they seemed remorseful for a brief moment. “I hope you survive, child.”

She turned and skittered away without a single explanation for that cryptic warning. Mal glanced around the room for the threat, until she laid eyes on her legs. A horde of spiders were crawling up them and a shriek tore itself from her throat.

Her wings manifested before Mal could even blink and she threw herself into the air, catching herself in a cobweb. Mal flailed as the spiders didn't even move before Mal chose the most reasonable option to get rid of them; Setting her legs on fire.

The fire scorched the leather and Mal bit her tongue at the sparking pain until she was sure that all the spiders were dead. Only then did Mal will the fire out, which she didn't know she could do before now.

She was too preoccupied to pay attention to that as more spiders were crawling down the cobweb she was stuck in. Mal drew her bloody knife and sliced through the cobweb without hesitation, ignoring the itchy burning in her legs.

Mal took off, crashing through the cobwebs as she attempted to fly out of the cave. The momentum carried her through the webs without getting her stuck.

She burst from the cave, remaining cobwebs sticking to her wings, and dove into the first river she saw. The water was cold and ice-like but Mal held her breath until she couldn't no longer.

Her back slammed into a rock and Mal scrambled before getting a good enough hold to keep her there. With a deep breath, Mal plunged back under and stayed there with the odd air break until she was sure no spiders remained.

Then, and only then, did Mal pull her body onto the slippery rock and began shivering from a mix of the water and whatever had just happened.

The moon peeking through the leafy ceiling was no comfort to her, unfeeling and the image of perfection as it gazed down on her.

Mal was anything but perfection, the only descriptor she could think of to describe how she probably looked was that she was a wet rat.

She certainly felt like it.

---

Eventually, Mal managed to escape the river after finding out that her wings had enough strength to push her through the water.

She was left walking through the forest while she waited for her wings to dry. When that was done, Mal flew the rest of the way after casting a risky spell to dry her clothes.

Eventually, Mal reached the temple where Athena stood, as regal as ever. In her hands was the flute.

Mal had only one word for the goddess. “Why,” Mal hissed out.

Athena looked away and Mal swore that she caught a flash of guilt before she disappeared.

Mal could only watch as her body ached from overexertion and her wounds. She honestly had one thought; why would Athena do that?

Then Mal sighed as she realised the reason. Athena was Zeus’ favourite child, of course, she wouldn't want to get on his bad side. Especially if the myths were true.

Still, Mal wished she hadn't had to deal with spiders.

Chapter Text

It took Mal much longer than she would like to admit to get moving again.

She wasn't even sure what had happened. She remembered Athena flashing away and her oddly calm thoughts about spiders before the knowledge that the gods were working against her caught up with her.

It was expected, but Mal hadn't had to admit it to herself until. That thought made her breath quicken, unsteady and gasping while her heart pounded.

Mal pressed her palm to her chest, feeling her unsteadily fast heartbeat and closing her eyes, counting slowly. The whole hand thing wasn't needed, due to her heartbeat thundering in her ears, but it worked and that was enough.

Gods were working against her. Any type of divine retribution could fall upon her at any second in any day until her goal was completed. Even after; Khaos knew she had her tendency for grudges from her father, and she wouldn't put it past the other gods.

Her eyes fluttered, opening briefly to check her surroundings then closing again when they were empty. It was just her in this cold marble building.

The unsteady thudding of her heart slowed and Mal opened her eyes. The rising sun glittered off the marble yet did nothing to warm the icy stone.

But it gave her something to stare at while she let the odd calm that came at the end of near panic attacks wash over her like it always does.

She removed her hand from where it rested, taking a grounding breath before moving on like her moment of vulnerability hadn't happened with the ease that was learnt.

You couldn't survive on the Isle without the ability to get over vulnerable moments within seconds. Just another one of the rules of survival on that island.

Mal missed the Isle, she realised. It was hell but something was calming about knowing how to live there. A sentiment most VKs had shared at least once as they worked to learn how to be a normal person who could do more than work to survive.

She continued on that line of thought as she stalked down the road worn from time instead of use. If she found a village before nightfall and she had the right coins, Mal would treat herself to a dinner that wasn't plain or canned. She had plenty of money, just not much variation in currency.

It would be nice to have a break from cooking herself. And while Mal had gotten better at cooking her food evenly, her food was always plain meat or scavenged plants if it wasn't from a can. Mal had never regretted overlooking spices more than she had over the past few days.

Mal missed the food on the Isle. It was terrible at first, usually random ingredients cobbled together into something edible, but as Mal grew older, the other VKs started experimenting with adding the Jungle plants or the rare spices they got to their food. Eventually, the Isle was left with a few delicacies that were easy to make and get if you had the recipe and knowledge of what you needed.

Though the spices were the hardest thing to get. The rest was mostly random meat and whatever edible plants you could find.

Mal wasn't sure if she remembered when she was taught how to cook. Those sorts of hazy memories were common to Mal, she remembered every memory of hers but she needed to search for it.

She raised a hand and combed through her hair. Mal had gotten used to all the hair products found in Auradon and missed the silkiness it brought.

Not that she enjoyed that thought. Mal was growing weak with the luxuries available to her.

Something was appearing on the horizon. Mal squinted and made out a town. She really hoped she had the right currency.

---

Thankfully Mal did have the right money and she spent ages finding a place to eat only to find one that looked interesting, but was just too expensive for her to justify spending money on for a single meal.

Mal gave up shortly after, her petty side deciding that it wasn't worth splurging if she couldn't get what she wanted when she could make herself some subpar food herself. She wasn't super hungry anyway.

When that whole failed mission was over, Mal moved on to exploring the town. She got a few looks occasionally due to her clothing as she wandered but ignored it.

Mal settled for exploring and absorbing the atmosphere here. She wondered what would've happened if Mal was taken off the Isle as a kid. Would she have been raised here in Greece with her father's family or in Auradon under the remaining relatives of her mother's?

Mal shook her head to clear her thoughts. There was no use in wondering what could have been. She raised her gaze and met the eyes of a woman sitting at a table at the same Cafe Mal wanted to eat at.

She was beautiful. Long wavy hair the colour of chocolate cascaded down her back and framed her azure eyes. She wore a simple t-shirt and jeans that did so much for her looks yet didn't at the same time.

She was Aphrodite, wasn't she? Mal was sort of relieved. At first, she felt bad that she found Aphrodite attractive since she was with Ben, but she was Aphrodite which meant that she was probably off the hook.

At least, Mal thought that was how relationships worked. Mal wasn't quite sure whether admiring other people counted as cheating.

Aphrodite waved and beckoned her over. Mal walked over, a little wary of the goddess who was notorious for causing trouble.

“Sit down,” Aphrodite chirped, voice soft and honeyed but not overly sweet. Mal did so and Aphrodite turned her attention to the menu. Aphrodite hummed under her breath as she read, her eyes flicking up to study her. “Go on,” she urged. “My treat!”

Slowly Mal went along with it. Sometimes it felt like gods weren't dangerous unless you were right in front of them because Mal had been calm before meeting almost every god so far, only to immediately be set on guard as soon as she laid eyes on them.

Thankfully, what she wanted was on the least expensive side. Aphrodite was seemingly distracted by her order before she moved on to fixing her already perfect makeup with a pocket mirror, one with a lid and an odd powder set into the mentioned lid instead of the tiny frame Evie carried.

When Mal could no longer deal with the silence, she spoke. “Can I ask why you've decided to speak with me, Lady Aphrodite?”

The goddess glanced up, snapping her pocket mirror shut. She smiled sweetly. “It's not often I meet someone willing to spend time away from those they love for the better of others when they don't have to,” Aphrodite explained.

Mal bit back a retort along the lines of ‘you must not have met many good people then’ and let Aphrodite continue. “There's also the added bonus of who you're doing it for! Eros hasn't been able to have his ‘gods with natural wings’ meetings with Thanatos and Hypnos since Hades was locked away.” Her tone shifted to a conspiratorial whisper. “You didn't hear it from me but he's oddly disappointed at Thanatos not turning up despite him still being able to see the Anemoi.”

Despite Aphrodite waxing poetic about Mal's motivations, she got the feeling Mal had nothing to do with the goddess’ involvement.

“And then there's darling Persephone,” Aphrodite cried, a sad expression taking over her face for a moment. “Right as she was about to introduce herself to your father, he was imprisoned! Honestly, Zeus should be locked away for such a crime against love!”

There it was. And oh Khaos, Mal did not want to hear about someone who had a crush on her father. Aphrodite continued chatting even as Mal had a small crisis over knowing that at least one person found her father attractive. “Your relationship with Ben is so interesting to me as well, it only started due to the Fates--”

“What?” Mal couldn't stop herself before the words slipped out of her throat, too distracted by the knowledge that the Fates caused her relationship. She didn't know what she was expecting, they wove everyone's fate, but something about the way Aphrodite said that made her think that it was different.

“Oh? Did you not know?” Aphrodite asked. Mal shook her head vehemently, too focused on whatever she didn't know to be polite. Aphrodite gasped softly before explaining cheerily, a conspiratorial smile on her face. “Oh! They warped your words to make it seem like you were calling Ben beautiful! Trust me, if they didnt you two would have never ended up together, even though you two are fated!”

A weird sort of relief settled over Mal, even though she had been told her relationship was built on meddling. At least it was that and not farther on in their relationship. And well, Mal knew that the Fates meddled no matter how much they denied it, it was simply a fact of life. The sun chariot crosses the sky, people appear in the underworld every day, and the Fates meddle for their amusement.

Their food arrived before the one-sided conversation could continue and the two of them settled into a silence interspersed by Aphrodite occasionally fixing her makeup. Mal ate quickly and finished first.

When Aphrodite finished eating, she sighed and tucked her bag in the crook of her arm. “I should be going,” she said calmly. “I’ve spent long enough down here.”

She glanced back up at Mal. “Ares told me about how you summoned that boy to help yourself out. He realised that you wouldn't have known what you were fighting if you hadn't summoned the kid and wanted to apologise. He doesn't like unfair fights. Says it's one of the reasons he's not a fan of Athena and her odd stacking,” Aphrodite explained. She waved goodbye and walked off, disappearing into the crowd.

The gods really liked their disappearing acts, didn't they? Honestly, Mal wasn't sure how to feel about Ares’ message so she skipped past it. There was no time to question it when Mal had more important things to ponder. Like the ramifications of her spirit summoning that Aphrodite had just reminded her of

What were her limits? On the Isle, Mal had to follow a necromancy ritual that normal magic users with no link to death would use, but with Iason, Mal simply needed to reach out and the underworld answered without any need for preparation.

She made her way out of sight of the town and any roads, hiding herself in the long grasses out of sight. For once her murder of nature seemed to be to her advantage as it gave her a chance to clear a spot to sit without any risk of bugs or just getting grass on her leather. Grass stains were much less mud ones; mud could at least be paraded as dried blood that had been there for a while.

Mal thought to herself as she found a small hidden spot in the grass, already slightly clear. Until she got a request, Mal was basically a sitting duck to her time limit. And she couldn’t force the requests since she couldn’t go up to Olympus nor could she hunt down one of the remaining gods since she couldn’t travel the world in a blink like they could. 

She had a week and a half to get her votes and that was around one day ago, probably two due to how long the storm had gone on for. Though she had made good progress, five out of nine votes were secured if she had Aphrodite’s and the gods held through on their promises. Aphrodite hadn’t mentioned where she would be swayed but Mal guessed she would vote for Hades since she brought up Persephone.

Mal shook her head to clear her mind. As she said before, there was nothing she could do to speed up her wait.

Time to test her limits then.

---

Mal noticed that the flickering flame in her core was stronger than before. Before with Ares, it was embers burning low but ready to spark into a bonfire at a moment's notice. The biggest difference to the tiny sparks that Mal had to spend hours coaxing into a flame when she was first using the necromancer rituals.

Now it was a sparking fire, warming her insides and much higher than the embers before. Mal had the feeling it was indicative of how strong her powers were at the given moment.

She leaned back, placing her head on the dead grass. Mal would admit she was scared to try this. Before, Mal had desperation or supervision to distract her from the possibility of causing suffering.

Procrastination wouldn't help this situation. All Mal could do was face her fears, summon a spirit and deal with the consequences.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and Mal knew deep in her bones that gold was bleeding into her irises, the gold flecks turning into a thick golden ring around her pupils, as she brushed a metaphoric hand against the flame.

She could feel it pulsing in her veins, fire burning through her but not hot, instead a friendly warmth. Voices thrummed gently and Mal relaxed at the noise, before she might have been scared but now she knew they were the spirits she had access to. She could make out the words this time; whispers of their lady, some joyful at being so close to her and others subservient and ready to obey her every request.

Mal hummed, melting into the grass, as a picture flickered in her mind. She could hear the soft rustling of the spires of Asphodel blossoms and the sweet scent that floated off them. Spirits mulled around, some picking the flowers and weaving crowns out of them or just wandering. The flowered spires towered around her, blocking a good chunk of the field and spirits from her sight.

It felt like she was there aside from her senses feeling slightly detached.

The picture changed to what was unmistakably Elysium. This time there were more flowers than only Asphodel though Mal could not smell them, only hearing them moving and the flutter of the butterflies’ wings flapping as they feasted on the flowers’ nectar.

There were buildings now, a contrast to the empty plains of Asphodel with the occasional tree. These buildings were white and marble, like a shrine of remembrance to the souls inhabiting them.

Her odd view of the underworld was unable to make out any of the spirits’ faces, their faces blurred when she looked at them. She had a ground's eye view of the building as if she was lying on the ground in Elysium and not a random field in Greece.

There were ghostly lavender strings wrapped around her delicate fingers, pulsing passively and linking her to each soul she could see. She hummed under her breath, the sound divine and fitting her form, her saffron chiton being played with by an invisible breeze.

The strings tugged, trying to lead her to what was likely the fields of punishment but she stood her ground. She wanted to enjoy her home without hearing the damned begging at her feet like the worms they were.

Someone laid down next to her and her arms twitched, opening to embrace the unknown soul. Her right index finger moved instinctively, pulling on one of the many strings tied to it and the smell of petrichor enveloped her senses.

“Mal?” The lilting voice shocked her out of her thoughts and Mal jolted back to the alive world, almost sitting up if it wasn't for her .

Patience kneeled in the grass next to her, the dead grass untouched by her form, one of the many signs of her incorporeal body.

Her hair was longer in death, pooling along the ground with the skirt of her simple chiton. It framed her translucent face, an expression of gentle worry marring her usually peaceful features.

Despite the soft wind blowing the live grass around them, Patience was unmoved, her hair and skirt not moving from the wind. The beauty of death left her untouched by the wind and life as she kneeled under the sun's gaze, translucent skin glittering under the sunlight.

“Mal?” Patience echoed her earlier question and Mal dipped her head, reeling over the fact that she could talk to Patience, one of the few people Mal had depended on outside of Evie, Jay and Carlos.

Patience gasped softly when Mal moved, taking her hands. “Oh, you're okay! I was worried when you turned up in the underworld, you felt and looked so much like a spirit I thought you were one!” The words ran from Patience’s mouth, rushing over each other like a bubbling brook as she hurriedly spoke.

Mal liked to claim that she only knew Patience through Hadie, it was safer to fake detachment to someone lower on the Isle hierarchy than your true feelings, and that extended to her thoughts sometimes but Mal did care for her. So she was very glad that she had the chance to see her again.

If Maleficent hadn't wanted her, Mal would've been raised alongside Patience, Pierce and Hadie and sometimes Mal felt like that had carried over. Patience was the closest thing she had to a sister aside from Evie.

Mal pulled Patience into a hug, cradling her in her arms where no harm would reach the younger girl. Because that was what she was, Patience hadn't aged a day since she died and Mal was sixteen now, two years older than Patience. An incredulous laugh bubbled from her throat at the idea of being older than Patience, Mal was younger than her by several months and it should've stayed that way.

Her wings formed around her without a thought, wrapping around Patience, adding an extra layer of protection. Patience gasped again, this one awed instead of worried, and trailed her fingers against Mal's feathers, tracing where they began and where they finished.

Mal stared at Patience while the imp girl continued tracing her way around her wings. The delicate awe on her face, showing just how young and how innocent she was in the grand scheme of things, pained and softened Mal's heart at the same time.

Patience was too young to die, but death had allowed that innocence to survive into death and thrive. Mal shifted so Patience was leaning against her chest while she sat up and ruffled her feathers, marvelling in the sound of awe Patience made in return.

Patience was always the older one of the four, of both Mal and Hadie and her twin, Pierce, but now she was the youngest and was able to be the child she couldn't be in life.

A soft smile painted on her face. Mal was glad Patience had that chance, even if she didn't get that in life.

For now, Mal would enjoy having Patience with her.

Chapter Text

Not long after, Hermes appeared. Patience had long fallen asleep, and Mal tightened her wings around her, looking up at Hermes, who didn't even blink at the ghost girl tucked away in her wings while she slept.

Mal dipped her wings in an attempt at a bow without disturbing Patience's slumber. “Lord Hermes.” Mal lowered her head.

“I thought it was worth dropping down here to update you on my way to the underworld since you aren't up to date on how things are going,” Hermes started. Mal nodded, already feeling thankful. Despite being the one who caused this, Mal had no information on what was happening in Olympus and if she was doing this work for nothing.

“Hephaestus, Apollo and Ares are up to their usual business; Zeus and Hercules haven't realised anything was happening; Megara’s been working on turning Hercules onto our side, and Hera’s plotting something and Athena’s avoiding Zeus, Hera and Hercules.” Hermes took a moment to take a breath Mal knew he didn't need. “And I hope you haven't been searching for Artemis or Dionysus since the two of them are indisposed.”

Upon seeing her expression, Hermes laughed and continued. “Dionysus is holding one of his two week long parties on Olympus, and Artemis is on one of her solo hunts where she travels around the entire world in a week, murdering every monster in sight. You had no hope in finding either of them, and they certainly aren't in the mood to request something of you.”

Mal furrowed her eyes, cursing mentally. That's two out of the nine gone. If she didn't get Poseidon’s, that would only be six votes. And that's if Athena turned around all of a sudden and voted for her.

Hermes’ eyes were staring at her when she looked back up, this time hazel instead of gold. Though not for long, as he quickly hid them with a pair of sunglasses he pulled out of thin air.

Mal gave him a judging look, and he laughed again; this time, it was remarkably similar to Calix's. “Don't worry! You still have Uncle Poseidon,” Hermes chirped.

She raised one of her eyebrows. “Does he have a request for me?” She questioned harshly.

Hermes chuckled. “Not at the moment, but if you head north, there's an ocean that way. If you spend enough time around that area, he'll eventually notice you and come investigate why you're there,” Hermes explained. Mal squinted at him, recognising what Hermes was telling her to do.

He wanted her to basically annoy Poseidon into tracking her down and then convince him once he found her. Unfortunately, Mal had no better plans for getting his vote, and Hermes knew that.

“Good luck!” He chirped and flew off, wings on his heels flapping furiously. Patience shifted in Mal's arms, and Mal fidgeted, brushing a gentle hand through her hair.

Mal would set out once Patience woke up.

---

Patience ended up leaving Mal to continue her quest so she could return to the Underworld. Mal didn’t really want to let her go, but she knew that the Underworld likely needed all hands on deck and Mal was quickly growing tired. Mal would admit that Patience was dedicated to her goal since the imp's only reason for wanting to go back to the underworld was to fill her daily work quota, but then again, Patience was always like that.

Always a workaholic.

Mal groaned, covering her eyes with her hands as she flew over the world below. She was understating her feelings by being so casual about it, but Mal honestly didn't know how to feel them so clearly.

But what was she supposed to feel when a friend Mal had mourned returned from the dead for a few hours before returning to the underworld just so she could do some more work?

What was she supposed to do in that situation? What did the Fates expect of her? If Mal had the dead at her fingertips, what would become of her?

Mal remembered the calm state she had fallen into when reaching to her powers, when she had witnessed the underworld. What would've happened if Patience hadn't woken her up?

Her wings faltered, revealing her inner turmoil at the shaking wing beat. The fear made her feel like cold hands were grabbing her body, like water was trickling down her back and like she was useless . Mal couldn’t protect her friends when she brought death, when she was death .

If the war hadn’t happened, Mal wouldn’t have had to worry about this because the power running through her veins would not be ichor. Because deep in her heart, Mal knew the ritual had burned away her fae blood, forcing nature to abandon her as the price for disregarding death. Another unsteady wing beat, numb realisation thudding through her bones.

Mal was a living ghost. The dead crawled at her feet, bowing before her and praising her as her mistress. Only the immortal should be able to command this power, and she was none of that. Ichor might run through her veins, but Mal was only a mortal in front of this.

A tremble ran through her, raising goosebumps on her skin. Mal couldn’t stop thinking of worst-case situations where her power extended beyond her, beyond spirits and into decay. A delicate sense of otherworldly dread slipped deep into her chest, a fear burrowing deep into her bones and stomach.

Gods, what if she hurt someone she loved? The spirits of the dead were her thing, but Mal had no clue on how much control she had over them. What if she brought a spirit who wished to only cause harm without realising it? Tartarus, Mal didn’t even know if she had to focus every time to summon a spirit or if it would become like her wings, something that was instinct by now.

The dread deep in her chest worsened, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Mal could feel a nasty static in the air around her, and a smell similar to petrichor, what Patience always smelled like, filled the air. The smell was off, though.

It was too sweet, but at the same time, the salty smell of the sea overpowered it, so Mal couldn’t quite catch onto what was causing it. Wind buffeted against her feathers and face. A reflexive hiss escaped from her mouth as a splash of water hit her face.

Her eyes immediately rose to the sky and growled at the darkening sky. This was the worst possible time for a storm. Mal scanned the ocean below for a landmass, a boat, or even just a wet rock she could barely fit on and found nothing.

Mal spun in the air, searching desperately for somewhere to land. There had to be somewhere.

A curse tore itself from her throat, being lost in the budding storm almost immediately. It was like the storm while she was doing Athena's quest; it formed unnaturally fast, but this time, it was somehow quicker.

It didn't take much thought to realise that this was either Zeus or a storm spirit. And maybe a wind spirit, Mal mused with an odd calm.

A gust of wind slammed into her, and Mal shrieked. Holy Tartarus, the wind was more of a problem than the rain at this point. Another gust hit her, and this time, Mal was left spinning, the air catching in her wings oddly.

It took all of her grace that was usually used to keep her movements clean and efficient and several weird wing movements to keep her from flying head over heels. Mal was a paper bag in a windstorm right now, and she hated it .

The rain was coming down heavier now, almost a match for the winds. Mal felt herself growing heavier with every second, and her hair stuck to the back of her neck uncomfortably. She remembered that she couldn’t touch her feathers if she was focusing on how her wings felt, so Mal attempted that.

The rest of her body didn’t matter as much, Mal was more than strong enough to fly if she kept her feathers dry enough. There had to be something she could land on nearby. There had to be .

Wind slammed into her again, forcing her thoughts away as she fought to stay in the air. This was not sustainable. Mal was not built for fighting storm winds, and there was no way she could do anything but prevent the inevitable of her falling if she didn’t find somewhere to land.

Storm winds were better lower down, right? Mal remembered that it was always worse when higher up on the Isle instead of lower down. She wasn’t sure if it was because the few higher spots on the Isle had fewer buildings to block the wind.

Either way, Mal decided to take her bets and lowered herself in the air. The sound of the waves crashing together was much louder down here, overwhelming her good hearing. Stupidly, the waves and the wind made it almost impossible to focus on keeping her wings dry, though the wind was better.

She cursed the rain as it got in her eyes and blinded her before moving on to cursing out Zeus mentally. Mal immediately regretted it as the rain picked up. Tartarus, she couldn’t even see in front of her face.

Her wings were growing extremely heavy, and Mal could barely flap them. Something was in front of her. Mal squinted, barely able to make out the shape in front of her. When she did, her eyes widened.

It was a rock. Undoubtedly slippery and hard to sit on, but it was some place to rest her wings, even if Mal would be getting drenched in the process. But that would be enough.

Mal worked up the strength to flap her wings, and she was so close to resting when something white slammed into the rock.

It took a moment for her to process what had happened, and that moment was all it needed for thunder to follow the lightning.

The resounding boom slammed into her ears, and a choked noise escaped her mouth, lost in the noise. Mal slammed her hands onto her ringing ears. A wave smacked into her back as she dropped, too focused on the overwhelming ringing in her ears and eyes squinted shut.

Mal only realised she was underwater when she tried to breathe. The seawater stung her eyes as they widened, and Mal reached out a futile hand.

Was this how she died?

Her wings were heavy and wouldn’t lift. Mal attempted to force them into moving and flailed, reaching above, even though she didn’t know if she was up or down.

Was this Fates’ way of getting back at her for the ritual? Uma had saved her that night from drowning. Had they defied fate that day?

There was another flash of lightning, and Mal forced her legs into action. That way was up, it had to be.

Adrenaline born of fear gifted her the strength to lift her achingly heavy wings as she reached for the air beyond the water.

It was so much harder to swim in the raging ocean during a storm than in a river with strong currents. Normal swimming was hard for Mal anyway.

Would Jay take care of Carlos and Evie if she died? What about Hadie? Mal couldn't help but hope the damned seagull was still alive, if only cause the stupid thing lets Hadie hug it when he was sad.

What about Ben? Mal loved him, and he loved her. How hard would he take it? If the Fates were actively meddling to get them together, then the two of them were probably what Auradon calls ‘true loves. ’ How would that loss affect him?

Would they even know Mal was dead, or would they think she was missing and making her own Odyssey in her quest to get home?

If she was able to cry underwater, Mal would be doing it now.

She didn't want to die, godsdammit. Mal wanted to live out her life with Hadie, Ben and her crew until she died and was accepted into the underworld where she would help out or just relax for the rest of eternity.

The world was going dark, Mal realised, the ache in her chest from lack of air painful and overwhelming her thoughts. Mal moved a hand to cover her mouth and nose at the desperate thought of breathing in seawater in hopes of being able to get oxygen from it.

In the end, it didn't matter how much she fought; Mal couldn't swim, and she didn't have the energy to fight against the waves.

She willingly closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see the dark water, despite it feeling like it went from a dangerous cage to gentle hands pulling her forward.

It went dark.

---

When her eyes opened, Mal was resting on a bed in an unknown room. She felt… disjointed somehow, like how she had felt in Asphodel when she was exploring her powers.

The blankets were soft and silky where she lay, and Mal didn't need to glance down at herself to know she was wearing her ritual chiton. Her wings were draped across her, warm and fluffy in a way they usually weren't.

She felt her eyes slipping closed, more than content to rest here while she figured out her thoughts. This had to be the underworld. That meant Mal had to be dead.

She was pretty sure that she wasn't supposed to accept this so soon, but oh well. A gentle hand ruffled her hair, and Mal leaned into it. 

For one of the first times, Mal felt at home and undeniably safe. Mal peeked out from under her eyelashes and caught sight of an unknown woman, humming to herself while she read.

It was a soft but eerie tune, the one that haunted Mal's every moment. The one Dad had sung to her as a baby and the one she hummed to Hadie every time he needed comfort.

Mal knew where she was and joined in with a soft whisper. “ And may your dreams guide you to the light… ”

The unknown woman turned to her with a delicate smile, and she was lovely. Her hair was a soft auburn and tied into an elaborate updo, her eyes were spring green, and she wore a regal black dress that looked like something Evie would make. A withered rose sat in her hair.

She blinked when she saw Mal awake. “Oh, you're awake. I hope you don't mind me being here. Nyx didn't want to leave you alone in case you woke up here and she had work to do, so I offered,” she explained, her tone formal and slightly nervous.

Mal ignored her in favour of sitting up, almost immediately raising a hand to rest over her eye as a headache made itself known to her. She blinked it away and turned to the woman.

“Who are you?” Mal questioned, rubbing the bridge of her nose like Dad did when he had a headache. Or was just exhausted. “And what do you mean by ‘woke up here’?”

“I'm Persephone,” the woman introduced. It took Mal a moment to place the name and internally winced. So this was the woman who had a crush on her dad.

Persephone didn't seem to notice Mal's realisation as she continued explaining slightly nervously. “As for what I mean by that, Nyx says that the few underworld demigods can end up down here when unconscious after a deadly situation.”

“So I'm not dead?” Mal asked. Persephone blinked and started talking.

“Sort of? I mean, mentally you are in the underworld so technically you are dead despite your body being alive. I don’t know much about the topic and you and your brother are the first demigod children of your father I know of so it might be different for you than other demigods.” The words rushed out in a nervous stream, and Mal wondered why a goddess was so nervous around her before coming to the realization.

Right, if Aphrodite was correct, Persephone has feelings for her dad. It wouldn't be a surprise for her to want to be on his children's good side. No matter how weird that felt.

She sighed softly, tracing the hand resting on her nose down her face. She still had to deal with the water, though Mal guessed someone saved her because she wasn't dead.

“How do I get back to my body then?” Mal asked after a moment. She wasn't sure if she was just tired or slightly annoyed that she had to leave a place where she felt safe.

Persephone paused for a long moment. “I'm not quite sure… We can go find Nyx?” She added, voice pitching up like it was a question.

Mal nodded, despite her wishes to stay in the Underworld. It was just Poseidon left and then could return to Ben and the others.

She was so close. This wasn't the time to let wishes dictate her actions. She sat up and followed as Persephone leaped up from the bed, holding the grace of a doe.

The hallway they entered was beautiful. Rich red swathes of cloth broke up the monotony of black marble walls with golden veins. It took a moment, but Mal realised that the golden streaks were gold threading through the stone. The floors were a simple, plain black stone, holding none of the opulence of the marble walls but still matching.

They soon reached the end of the hallway, though it was hard to tell as no doors stopped them and how the hallway sort of merged into a larger hall.

Spirits milled around the hall, looking more lifelike than the ones you would find anywhere else. There was an empty, elaborate obsidian throne at the end of the hall closest to them and had a blood-red tapestry that touched the floor behind it. Mal could make out a second hallway directly opposite to them. At the very front of the hall, Mal could just make out a pair of cloud like wings behind a corner that matched the ones Hypnos had.

Persephone hurried forward, slipping behind the tapestry into an unknown doorway. Mal followed quickly and got a good look at the room.

It was more like a break room than the office Mal thought it was supposed to be. Sure, there was an excessively large desk in the middle of the room with several chests of drawers resting against the wall behind it, but there were just as many spots to sit and rest, along with scattered pillows everywhere.

Glancing around the room, Mal noticed several separate areas in the large room. There was a collection of what looked like magical tomes and a comfy-looking reading nook in the far right corner; across from that was a giant dog bed that took up at least a third of the room with a just as big toy chest next to it. Along the left wall was what looked like a mix between a butterfly gallery, a blanket fort/bunch of pillows and blankets and a post office.

Compared to everything else, which was so personalized, the desk looked so empty despite being the only spot in the room occupied. There were a few picture frames placed randomly on the desk, and that was it, though Mal was more focused on the woman behind it.

Her skin was the night sky, literally. Mal saw several constellations spread across her face and neck like freckles. Her hair was in a simple bun, and she was in a suit.

She must be Nyx, then. Which meant that she was the one who had transported her to her meeting with Megara, however long ago that was.

Persephone stepped forward, a delicate flower blooming and then dying in her hair. “Nyx---” she started, only to be cut off by Nyx.

“Wait.” Persephone immediately stopped, and Nyx wrote something down on the paper she had. When she went to open her mouth again, Nyx spoke up. “You can't do anything other than wait.” Then she looked up and regarded Mal. “You go take a nap. Don't think I haven't noticed you stretching the limits of how long you can go without sleep,” she scolded. “You won't get any rest if you're active down here, and you have a higher chance of leaving if you're already asleep. Hypnos’ blanket fort is over there. No use for a death coma if you don’t get some energy back from it.”

Nyx bobbed her head to the left wall, and Mal walked over with an annoyed sigh. Mal didn't really want to be here, but she wanted to explore since she couldn't leave at will.

Still, Mal did not think she would win this fight against Nyx. She slipped inside the pile of pillows and blankets and burrowed under them.

She glanced back up at Nyx and Persephone, the night goddess having gone back to work while Persephone grew more withered flowers and threaded them into an empty vase on the desk Mal hadn't seen earlier.

Nyx looked over to her like she was checking if Mal had gone to take a nap like she said to and turned back to her work once she finished her check.

It felt nice having her check on Mal.

The pillows and blankets added a nice weight to her body, and feeling content and safe, Mal settled back into sleep.

---

The first thing she noticed was that Mal felt dried out. Like she had been doused in water and then left out in the sun to dry, except she was left outside too long. That, along with the feeling of sand inside her mouth and leather, made her guess that she was back in the living world.

She cracked her eyes open and was almost blinded by sunlight. Her head pounded, and Mal groaned as she sat up, feeling the ground beneath her blindly.

It was wooden and semi-even, but Mal knew she was outside, so it was most likely a dock similar to the Isle one. She wasn't quite sure if Auradon docks were made differently.

When her vision returned to her after the tedious task of opening one eye and waiting until it got used to the light before moving onto the other, Mal noticed she was indeed on a dock. And she wasn't alone.

An older man, probably late thirties/early forties, with hair that looked more dark blue than black, sat fishing off the end.

He glanced back up at her when she moved with ocean colored eyes before turning back to his fishing. 

Mal had gotten used to the song and dance with the gods and how they would turn up and observe her until she started a conversation, or they would just leave as soon as it ended, so it was pretty easy to guess that this was Poseidon.

She was beginning to wonder if the Deus ex machina trope held some weight in reality with how they would turn up at the exactly right time unexpectedly.

Still, Mal decided to play along when Poseidon called himself a humble fisherman who had found her on his way to his usual place for a fishing trip, having completely forgotten that no sane mortal would go fishing during that storm.

Mal couldn't quite find it in her to call him out on his terrible excuse, finding him closer to Apollo's unapologetic, vaguely disguised dumsterfire-ness than the perfection that was expected of gods.

Mal realised with a jolt that Poseidon had been talking the whole time she had zoned out. She quickly tuned back into the conversation.

“You are from the Isle, correct?” Poseidon questioned. Mal nodded hesitantly. “How is Ursula and her daughter?”

She immediately winced. How to tell him that Ursula was dead and Uma had killed her…

He seemed to pick up on her hesitation to answer him and frowned. “What happened?”

There was no choice other than telling the truth. “A couple of years ago, we villain kids went to war against our parents to stop them from escaping. Ursula teamed up with the older villains and well…” Mal hesitated to say what came next. Uma would kill her if Poseidon got angry, but Mal would free her family over Uma any day.

“Most VKs with… less than great parents took advantage of the war to kill their parents in revenge for how they were treated. All I know is that Uma killed Ursula and that the underworld isn't planning on adding matricide to her sentence when she dies,” Mal explained, still holding hesitancy over throwing Uma to the wolves.

Mal fidgeted nervously, too worried to look at the god's expression. Tartarus was she sorry if Poseidon was angry, killing family members was a big taboo for the gods especially.

The waves below the dock grew harsh, and the sky darkened before calming. Poseidon’s expression mimicked the water, eyes storming over and calming in sync.

Poseidon sighed softly. “I can't hold it against her until I meet her,” he finally admitted. Mal exhaled, glad she hadn't damned her sometimes-enemy-sometimes-acquaintance to divine punishment.

Then he turned to her, and Mal felt herself growing nervous. Poseidon hadn't been too mean to her so far, but he was also the god of the ocean, who was known for being one of the easiest gods to anger.

“How is your father?” Mal blinked, not expecting the question. Her next words were thought out before they left her mouth.

“He's fine, probably somewhere with Hadie, my brother, at this time of day,” Mal replied warily. “Or if there's a council meeting, he'll be at that.” A faint memory came to Mal, and she decided that if she was going to anger Uma, she'd go all the way. “He's been keeping an eye on Uma. Not that he does much more than making sure she doesn't get into too much trouble.”

Poseidon laughed softly and sadly, turning his attention back to the calm waves, which had taken a mournful air. Which did make sense considering he had been told his daughter had died.

“I mean, how is he handling the Isle? He was sent there during one of his dark spots.” This was a question Mal could answer without hesitation, and she did.

 “He's sane again. He has to be. I'm pretty sure the Isle has adopted him as their Patron God by now, and we went to war at a disadvantage just so we didn't have to put up with crazy people in power.” Mal's eyes joined his, fixing on the water. “Dad said it was hazy up until me and Hadie were born, then he snapped out of it over fear of becoming like his dad.”

Mal remembered when he had told her that; it was one of the nasty nights where Mal was practically paralyzed by the thought of Maleficent punishing her and had forgotten that Maleficent was ‘dead’. Dad had whispered comforts and held her, unknowingly mimicking how Evie comforted Mal from the same scenario. When she was calm, Mal had asked him why he was sane and if he would go insane again before her tact returned.

Both of them ended up sharing a truth with each other, and that was what mainly started their bonding beyond the images they had of each other.

The waves changed under the dock, and Mal regretted bringing up Kronos. Kronos was basically her dad's Maleficent, so it would make sense that he was Poseidon’s as well.

They sat in awkward silence for a moment before Poseidon spoke up again. “The Isle’s Patron God? Didn't know Hades had it in him; he was never interested in that sort of thing,” Poseidon chuckled to himself.

“The Isle doesn't worship gods on a larger scale. The closest thing we have is the Pirates regularly praying to you for good waters. Dad is just the only non-VK to be counted as a part of our government and is just simply viewed highly,” Mal explained.

Poseidon hummed noncommittally, turning his attention to the water. “I will give you my vote. So you remember how to get back home?” He questioned.

Mal nodded, drawing the compass she had almost forgotten about from the bag Hermes had given her. She knew the coordinates of the Isle; Smee had taught some of the Pirates how to use them, and Gil had passed that knowledge onto Jay, who passed it onto Mal and the rest of their crew. She wasn't quite sure if the coordinates would work outside of the barrier, but then again, the thing was either barely functioning or was just purely cosmetic and physical at this point.

Either way, Mal didn't want to risk being indebted to Poseidon by getting his help. She didn't think he would do that, but Mal was done with the whole ‘deals with the divine’ thing and didn't want to risk being forced into another one.

“I'm good,” Mal told him absentmindedly, inputting her coordinates. She spared a glance to her wings when she summoned them. The feathers were perfect and fluffy, a far cry from the bedraggled mess they were in the storm.

Perfect for a long flight.

Chapter Text

It took her a while, but that didn’t matter. Mal had achieved her goal, and now the time limit was nothing more than something to keep an eye on. The flight did take a long time, mainly due to the exhaustion that came with pushing herself for so long.

But finally, Mal came within sight of the Isle. As much as she wanted to settle and rest herself as the sun slowly set, she didn’t. Because Auradon Prep was so close. And with that came Ben.

She was so close.

Mal flew over the roof of Auradon Prep and landed on the roof, wings folding in. She had made her way onto the flat part of the roof, parapets blocking the side as a makeshift handrail, and kneeled there for a long moment.

There was a spiral staircase leading down into the school. Mal knew it ended in a mostly unknown corridor near Ben's office.

She crept down the stairs, keeping her footsteps light. If Mal was going to see someone before she got to rest, it would be her gang or Ben.

It didn't take long for her to reach the outside of Ben's office. Mal knocked gently, three long knocks and a short one. Carlos had come up with the code before teaching the rest of them, and if one of the three was in there, they would recognise it as her.

Ben opened the door and froze as soon as he saw her. His eyes scanned Mal in the way that was so familiar to her, the way she had looked at others so many times, running over the scattered bruises on her visible skin and searching for worse injuries.

Mal knew how to survive off the grid, but that was on Isle terms; bruises and aches were guaranteed.

She moved forward slowly, catching Ben's attention. “I'm okay,” Mal whispered, moving delicately past him and softly closing the door. He turned to her, eyes still worried, and Mal stepped forward to lay her head on his shoulder. “I'm okay,” Mal repeated with a vulnerability that surprised her.

Ben's arms almost immediately wrapped around her, and he rested his head on her shoulder. He didn't need to speak for Mal to know that he was terrified for her.

“I was so scared,” Ben mumbled, words rushing over themself in his haste. “It's been  two and a half weeks. I thought you were dead.”

Mal hadn't even realised it had been that long. She knew that she had abandoned keeping track of time halfway through her quest and only picked it back up again when she got her time limit, but Mal thought she would've been better than that.

But that didn't matter now, not when she held her boyfriend in her arms, her boyfriend who had never experienced the fear that someone he loved was dead or dying in a ditch somewhere, unlike Mal. Ben was so innocent to these feelings compared to her, the price of being raised in Auradon instead of the Isle. She was glad he was raised here because Mal wasn't quite sure if she would have him in his arms if their birthplaces were swapped.

Ben made a choked sound, and Mal curled into him, keeping gentle but firm hands on his back to ground him. She was pretty sure that was what Evie did, and Evie was the best with emotional comfort.

---

Mal and Ben stood there embracing each other until Jay, Carlos, and Evie turned up. Then they decided to hold the recap of the last few weeks in Mal and Evie's room since it would probably turn into a sleepover anyway.

Now, Mal was leaning against the headboard of her bed, Evie was sitting next to her, Carlos was curled on Evie's bed, Jay was next to him and was letting Carlos lean against him, and Ben was sitting on the edge of Mal's bed.

“What happened while I was gone?” Mal asked, starting off the meeting. Jay was the one who answered her like she expected. Jay was always the best at reports like this.

“Me and Carlos pulled a couple favors with some of the Tourney team. Evie's mostly been trying to control the rumors surrounding your disappearances, and Ben's been doing a little bit of both,” Jay explained. “How have you been?”

Mal glanced at Ben, who still held the slight worry for her in his frame. “Out of the nine options, I got six guaranteed.” Jay nodded his head to continue. “With minimal harm.” He narrowed his eyes. “I fell into a river, an ocean and fought a flock of harpies, flesh-eating horses, a manticore, a lone harpy and had a few run-ins with too many spiders,” Mal summarized.

Ben's face paled so quickly that Mal thought he was going to pass out. Right. He wasn't used to Mal's tendency to get into fights and then win them. She reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I'm okay, I promise. The most I got was a few cuts and bites which I treated and we know how hard it is for me to get sick,” Mal reassured.

Ben stared at her for a long moment. “I'm taking you to the doctor's as soon as I can get an appointment.” Mal hissed. She had survived this long on the hotbed for infection that was the Isle, she did not need to go to a doctor who would coo and stare at her with pity.

Then, she shook her head to clear her thoughts. She wasn't going to a doctor, but this was time for planning their next step.

“When is the mortal side of things happening? I was told the gods' vote on our freedom was three days from now, but that's subject to change,” Mal told them. Ben nodded to himself, taking charge now.

“We hold council meetings on Friday, so we have the weekends off unless something goes wrong,” Ben explained, tone calm from finally being in his element. He glanced around the room before his eyes fell on Mal. “There is a problem on my side of things.”

Mal mentally cursed as Ben continued. “Our way of securing votes is less of getting them explicitly and more of getting evidence in our favour. The easiest way to get a higher chance of succeeding is to get one person from the Isle as a representative.” Ben paused, looking around at them again worriedly. “If one of you would be willing to be representative, it would help greatly,” Ben admitted, sounding almost guilty over having to ask this.

Mal would admit that she didn't quite understand how Ben thought sometimes; they had been raised in completely different situations, and there may be some divine-related apathy in certain situations, but she couldn't understand why Ben would feel guilty over this.

She chose to look at Jay, Evie and Carlos before Mal decided what to do next. Evie and Carlos looked uncomfortable at the idea of being the representative, and Jay seemed like he wasn't thrilled by the idea but would go along with it.

“If there isn't anything to do with being partners with someone on the council, I'll do it,” Mal volunteered after a moment of thinking. “I'm one of the people on the weird rudimentary council the Isle has going, and it can't be too different from your one.”

---

They ended up relocating not long after because Ben was a stickler for the rules, and the rules said that boys couldn't be in the girls dorm after dark. Thankfully, it said nothing about girls being in the boys dorm so they relocated to Jay and Carlos’ room.

Though Ben banished himself to Jay's bed as soon as Evie decided it was time to sleep, Mal was happy that she had her crew and boyfriend back.

And if she snuck into bed next to Ben to talk to him without waking up Evie and the boys once they fell asleep and ended up staying there, whispered conversations passing between them; it was only for the gods to know. 

And Carlos since he was the only one to wake up before Mal did.

---

Friday arrived quicker than Mal expected. Between trying to explain to Fairy Godmother where she had been without telling her their goal before she eventually gave up and said that she had been doing a favour for a friend and she had walked off without any more conversation.

Some rumors were going around the school based on her disappearance, most of which followed the lines of her doing something bad and being sent back to the Isle. Which wow . Mal had killed people while away; the harpy was definitely sentient, but she only killed when she had a reason. Or when someone was trying to kill her.

Anyway, Mal had a hard few days. She wasn't quite sure she was ready for council day, but she had no other choice.

So she followed after Ben as he led her through the extravagant wood hallways that Mal had begun to associate with royalty. At least the underworld had the excuse of it being home to several gods, Mal didn't understand why the mortal royalty needed all this excessive opulence.

They stopped in an elaborate room with a large table in the middle. All the seats were full aside from two: a throne-like chair that was more elaborate than the others and an elegant chair that was as extravagant as the others but was undeniably out of place.

Mal fidgeted with the dress Evie had made her, the pinnacle of Isle fashion with its layers and subtle protection despite the only leather part being her jacket with the Dragons’ symbol on the back.

The rulers’ eyes focused on her as she stepped forward behind Ben. Thankfully, Mal's seat was next to Ben's, something he had undoubtedly planned.

Her eyes scanned the table, noting down the inhabitants. Queen Leah, Ben's father, a man who she guessed to be Aladdin, a blonde guy who she had no idea who he was, Rapunzel's husband if Cassandra's descriptions were correct, Chi Fu (Mal bit back a growl at the man who was used as an example on how not to be sexist in Hun circles, a class Tai chose to teach to the wider Isle population after the war), a few other woman and men who Mal vaguely recognised, most notably being Prince(?) Eric and Snow White, and finally, Hercules.

Mal wanted to curse whoever put Hercules on the council. If he was anything like her father described him as, Megara held the smarts between the two of them. And it was just incredibly inconvenient. Mal was trying to fly under Olympus’ radar until her father was free, and while she had already destroyed much of her chances for that, Hercules was not helping.

She could feel the disdain and hatred coming from Queen Leah and the confusion from the other rulers in the form of goosebumps on her skin.

“King Ben, why is a… non-council member here during this meeting?” Queen Leah asked, sweet tone barely disguising her annoyance at seeing Mal to anyone who knew how to dissect tone.

Despite that, Ben took it in stride. “Considering today's matters involve the Isle of the Lost, I decided to ask one of the Villain Kids we brought over to serve as a representative,” Ben explained calmly.

There was a rush of sound that made it more than obvious that Ben hadn't told anyone about why they were here. Wasn't he supposed to do that? If Mal was calling a meeting for something that wasn't overly urgent, Mal always gave Calix or her messenger more context on her plans.

“What matters are they?” The blonde man, who Mal still had no clue who he was, asked.

Mal calmly placed her hands over her ears. The gang leaders tended to start screaming matches when someone proposed an odd or controversial idea, so surely the council would do the same.

“I want to take the barrier down,” Ben said bluntly. Chaos struck abruptly, and while it was much quieter than expected, the surprise and outrage at his words were very reminiscent of Giselle when Xiaobo and the Huns tried to encroach on the Huntresses’ part of the Jungle.

“You can't be serious!” King Beast declared. Ben met his eyes without question, and the old king shrunk back. It was nice to see Ben holding his own. He could deal with politics, and Mal could deal with physical threats. A perfect duo.

“What about the villains?” Someone else asked. Mal was pretty sure he was Rapunzel's husband. Mal wasn't paying attention to him, too busy scanning the intricacies of Hercules’ expression for anything that might reveal his thoughts.

He had a surprisingly good poker face, but Mal was very skilled in reading body language and facial features. Despite that, Mal couldn't pick up on his feelings. She could guess, but it was nowhere near as secure as her usual predictions.

At the silence, Mal realised that Ben was faltering on his answer to Rapunzel's Husband's question. He didn't know the story they had come up with.

Mal swept in to explain. “Two years ago, Maleficent teamed up with the other villains to free the villains locked in the tunnels in an escape attempt. They succeeded, but more than half the Isle was wiped out, most of which was the villains,” Mal explained calmly, reciting the story she knew by heart. She had memorized it before they left the Isle; it was much better to have a secure story than to not have one.

“The few villains left are the ones who didn't join the escape attempt. Without their parents keeping them in check, most of the Villain Kids didn't share resources with the ones that survived. They dropped quickly once the Pirates refused to sell them fish.” It was in the grey spot of a lie. No villains who would've gotten that fate survived, but a few despicable VKs who managed to fly under the radar got that treatment while the gang leaders were working things out.

The faces the council members were making were hilarious. Like none of them had seen the hell that living could be in the slums when none of the people around you would help you.

Aladdin appeared to understand, though. It made sense; the thieves from Agrabah had made clear that the weaponized ostracization the Isle utilized was there as well.

“How did they die?” Mal did a double take when Queen Leah spoke.

Ben admittedly faltered as well, a bit stuck on what was supposed to be his response. “Queen Leah, I don't see how that's important---” he was quickly cut off by the older team.

“It is important!” Queen Leah insisted stubbornly. “After all, I believe the event that killed the villains happened to be their children. Isn't that right, Maleficent's daughter?”

Ice ran through Mal's veins at the knowledge that Queen Leah knew about the war. Her horror was all the confirmation the council needed to realise that the VKs had killed their parents.

Queen Leah continued on her tirade. “How can we think about removing the barrier when that gives murderers a chance to kill our people!” She said firmly. Mal could see a few people swaying to her side, though immediately, Mal noticed Rapunzel's husband and Aladdin both shared a glance.

If the rumors were right, they both used to be street kids, so they would have an idea of how life on the Isle would be.

She stopped thinking when Queen Leah made another comment. “I do have one question for you, as you are the Isle representative,” Queen Leah started. Chi fu whispered something to her, but the old Queen visibly ignored it. “Why did you all commit parenticide?” Mal wasn't sure how to answer, and Queen Leah wasn't expecting one as she continued.

“I believe it was because you villains got annoyed that your parents were telling you what to do and that you killed them because of it.”

A scalding ball of anger flared deep in between her ribs at the desecration of their freedom. They had fought for their freedom, not because they were mad at their parents! Mal could feel the people who died in the war roiling and raging from the underworld deep in her veins, even if she wasn't sure if they actually were.

Rage took over her, and Mal slammed her hands on the table as she rose to her feet. “That's NONSENSE!” Mal raged. Several people shrunk back or jumped in their seats. Weak, all of them, not able to handle a little bit of shouting. They wouldn't last a day on the Isle council. Mal didn't care, not when this all-encompassing rage was once again filling her body.

"We fought for our freedom! We fought for your freedom!” Mal shrieked, voice unearthly and ringing around the room with a magnitude. “Maleficent would've escaped if it wasn't for us! Sure, we killed our parents, who cares about those abusive wastes of space?! Gaston killed his two favourite sons just because they defended a messenger who was in the wrong place at the same time and then killed his eight-year-old daughter when she was trying to find a place to hide!”

Several gasps rang out, but Mal had no care for them.

“That's nothing compared to everyone else. You are DESECRATING THEIR MEMORY WITH YOUR LIES!” Mal screeched, voice pitching up suddenly. There was a distant smell of smoke that barely peeked through the veil of her rage. “EVEN BEFORE THE WAR, VILLAINS WERE KILLING THEIR CHILDREN! WHETHER IT WAS NEGLECT OR MALEVOLENCE, THEY GOT WHAT THEY DESERVED!”

A hand touched her shoulder, and Mal whipped around, ready to lash out, only to see Ben. “Your hair's smoking,” Ben whispered softly. Mal sighed and collapsed back into her chair, covering her eyes. She still had one last thing to add before she could tune out this meeting.

“The War of the Banished might not be legitimate to you, but it is for us and invalidating the sacrifices of the people lost is nothing less than desecration,” Mal repeated, closing her eyes behind her palms.

She couldn't do this anymore. Mal hated the cruelty through neglect and how the council members looked before she closed her eyes.

She hated this numb feeling that rose when anger faded. Mal just hated this meeting in general. The gang leaders knew when to back off, even if shouting was common, so anger like that wasn't normal.

Mal was surprised out of the numb feeling by Hercules defending them.

“There's a simple way to figure out if the Isle residents who killed in the war should be prosecuted,” Hercules added to the growing argument. “I can get Hecate to check the classification of the deaths that occurred. If they put them under the war category, then they're free.”

“Wouldn't there be some bias?” Aladdin asked.

Hercules shrugged. “If Hermes is to be believed, you can go down a level but not up. For the underworld, bias would be sending an Elysium soul down to Asphodel. It wouldn't be possible to send someone deserving of the Fields of Punishment to Elysium without the balance in the underworld being wrecked,” Hercules said, tone even. “We'd have to call her, though.”

Mal decided it was time to step in again. “I don't know if it helps, but most of the people who died ended up in Elysium.” All eyes turned to her. “I'm close with Hades’ son,” Mal excused. “The Isle isn't the best at blocking demigod magic.”

How it hurt to imply that Hadie was nothing more than a passing friend instead of a part of her very being just as she was a part of his.

Her word was not enough as Hercules called in Hecate, and then Apollo so they would know she was telling the truth. The god of truth had winked at her when he saw her, so Mal wasn't quite sure if his claims of only five VKs to end up anywhere but Elysium were true, but it didn't matter; Mal knew the actual number wasn't high enough to damage their chances.

It ended in agreement, in the hands of Queen Leah and Chi Fu.

The Isle barrier was coming down.

Chapter Text

A sense of anxiety had settled deep within Mal’s bones, hiding itself behind her rib cage.

She hadn't realised that the Gods’ meeting would be set after the mortal one, and she had cornered Apollo after the meeting before he left, only to find out that the decision hadn't been made yet.

Mal was left trying to understand the feelings from the meetings while she waited.

That was mostly clear when Ben shared the good news with Evie and the boys, and Mal couldn't do anything but storm around the room, steps even but harried.

Energy sparked within her legs, urging her on even as her legs grew to ache after the first four hours.

Ben had settled on the floor with a pillow and a few blankets to cushion him, occasionally glancing up from his book to check on her.

Mal had told Evie and the boys that they could get into the Isle without Auradon's help, but just couldn't get out, so they had gone to tell the others back home.

They had left somewhere around two hours ago after Jay tracked and stole the remote that opened the barrier.

Mal gave them a nautilus shell she had found on her way back to give to Hadie.

Everything felt a little distant while she worried. Like the only thing keeping her from fading from reality was the feeling of her boots hitting the floor.

What if Athena ratted her out to Olympus, and they got annoyed that a demigod was messing with godly business? Mal had been raised on stories about demigods falling to their hubris and being killed by the gods. Would she become just another cautionary tale?

Would Hadie and Dad find out the moment she entered the Underworld? Just because it felt like home, Mal didn't want it to be hers yet!

Her speed picked up, more of a run than a walk.

“Mal,” Ben called quietly. Her eyes snapped to him. He had set his book down. “Come sit with me, okay?”

Mal stared at him for a long moment before giving in. She tucked her legs under herself and leaned against Ben. He wrapped an arm around her.

“It's going to be okay,” he promised. Mal leaned her head against him. “We've almost won, so our happy ending is in sight.”

She smiled softly, hiding her head in his shoulder. Ben suddenly made a surprised sound at a tapping noise, and Mal glanced up. Hermes was floating outside the window and was occasionally tapping the glass.

Mal sighed and walked over to the window, pulling it open. She glanced back at Ben and bit back a snort at his wide eyes.

Hermes slipped through the window and sat down on the inside windowsill after fixing his sunglasses.

Mal was suddenly struck by the thought that Ben might not know that Hermes was Hermes. “Hermes, why are you here?” Mal settled on. It let Ben know this was Hermes without spelling it out in case he knew that already.

Hermes grinned. “I thought you'd be glad to see me, cousin,” Hermes chirped in response.

She glared at him, and he sighed. “You're no fun…” He abandoned his feigned disappointment a moment later. “The vote came in.”

Mal jolted and spun around to face him head-on. “What was it?” Mal nearly shrieked, barely keeping herself from getting too loud. She spared a glance at Ben to see his reaction.

He looked like he was anticipating Hermes’ answer just as much as Mal was, though he seemed like he was trying to keep himself from being impolite. Mal smiled at him softly.

Mal had been in a hurry to get him off the Isle so she could prolong Ben meeting Dad and Hadie until Mal was sure she wanted to date him, but now she couldn't help but wish she had gotten him to stay, just to see if Ben had this same nervous excitement around them.

She shook her head slightly to draw herself from her thoughts, a bad habit Mal had yet to temper, and looked up at Hermes, who had been waiting for her attention to fall back on him.

“Eight out of twelve with a bonus vote from Hercules in favour. Hades is free.”

It took a moment for it to sink in. Then Mal was dragging Ben to his feet so she could fling her arms around him in excitement.

The surprised squeak he made was adorable, and gods, was she so happy. Mal didn't know the last time she was this excited.

Faintly, she heard the window close, a sign of Hermes leaving, but she had no care for it. Mal was too busy picking Ben up and spinning him in the air like they had just gotten married to be bothered by him.

He made a noise of surprise at first, but quickly joined in on the excitement once he knew the god had left.

As Mal let Ben lead her in a dance that was probably less of the ballroom one it was meant to be and way more upbeat, she was so glad she had come over from the Isle, even if she was angry about the invite at first.

She broke the dance to curl into Ben, summoning and then wrapping her wings around him. His expression of love and wonder when he saw the translucent feathers did nothing to drown the warm happiness that was filling her insides, and Mal smiled, happy to be able to see her family without running to the Isle and back.

---

Hermes appeared not long after he left, once again tapping on the glass to alert them to his presence.

Mal unfurled herself from Ben, the two of them had sat down together and talked about where they wanted to go from here once the excitement faded, and stood up to speak with Hermes.

“Hermes?” Mal asked, crossing her arms. The god shifted on his feet, as if he were nervous. Mal had a sinking feeling that it had to do with her; she had learnt that she was almost always involved in godly matters over the past few weeks.

She might as well rip out the knife. “What do I need to do?” Her chest tightened slightly as her shoulders straightened, vulnerability once again being hidden behind a mask of strength.

“My father figured out that a ‘child of Hades’ is the one who campaigned for his freedom.” Hermes paused, looking slightly regretful at what came next. “He wants to meet you.”

A shudder ran down her spine. Dad had told Mal and Hadie what Zeus had been like before Dad had been locked away; all cruelty and apathy when it came to anyone less than a god. There was a chance that he had changed. Hercules was his golden child, and he had kids who weren't quite gods yet despite being godlings. Kids like Mal and Hadie.

Worst-case scenarios ran through her head, dominating her mind and hunting down any hope that she could get out of this like the barking of a hunting wolf pack. Like the baying and cheers of the Huntresses before they were decimated as they chased their prey, endurance and numbers winning over strength.

What if Zeus decided to take her? To take Mal like how Dad took Hercules, and somehow block her from seeing him again after her death. What if he forced her to wither and decay, never dying but dead, just so she couldn't enter the underworld as punishment.

A child for a child. An old sin for a sinner's newest. A God whisking away a child who had done nothing more than be born.

A baby cursed in the name of vengeance, and a baby stolen by an insane god.

Mal was the child of two people who had targeted children in their schemes, one under the grasp of insanity and the other in anger, gaze clouded by revenge. She was a Child of the Banished, a child vilified and prosecuted for her parents’ crimes.

This would be the second time that happened, the first being the moment of her birth.

And Mal raised her head to the messenger in front of her, prepared to face her fate.

So she turned around and placed a kiss on Ben's forehead. “I love you,” she told him, disguising the fear and acceptance behind a promise. “I'll be back soon.”

Ben looked like he wanted to make her stay, but he knew he couldn't do anything when the king of the gods requested her presence.

Mal spun on her heel so she was facing Hermes. “Let's get going. I want to get this over with,” she told him, faking a calm tone in her voice.

---

They talked as they travelled. Hermes, in a possible attempt to comfort her, told her all the ways Zeus had changed for the better after Hercules.

It didn't help her anxiety.

He told her stories of how Zeus had been spending more time with Hermes and his siblings who weren't Athena, Hercules or Apollo.

It didn't help as Mal walked along smooth stone walkways.

Hermes told her how Zeus would've struck Ares with lightning if the god of war had disturbed him, but now didn't.

It didn't help as they walked past marble, temple-like buildings.

The god of messengers beside her didn't seem to catch onto her anxiety as he continued rambling about how much better Zeus had become, almost as if he was trying to comfort her in a twisted fashion.

It didn't help; if Zeus had done that once, he would do it again.

They stopped in front of a large door, the same sparkling white as the marble surrounding it. They were here.

Her clothes flickered, growing lighter, and Mal spared a glance down at herself. Instead of her dress from earlier, she was in her chiton with her wings extended from her back.

She wanted to question the sudden appearance of her chiton, but at the gentle but insistent tugging of what felt like strings wrapped around her finger, Mal dismissed it and followed what the strings wanted.

For her to open the door and face the gods.

---

The room inside reminded her of the coliseum, or more accurately, a circular courtroom with the seating higher than the spot where she stood.

Because, of course, it was a courtroom.

Along with its… courtroom qualities, the room had several other features Mal noticed. Mostly being the thrones, two large ones that she assumed were Zeus' and Hera's at the forefront, though Zeus’ was larger than Hera's. A fireplace sat in the space between the two thrones, though it was several steps forward.

Mal strode forward, raising her head defiantly as Hermes flitted over to an empty seat. She looked up at the god sitting on the largest throne.

Zeus was… odd-looking. He looked like her Dad, surprisingly so, but not at the same time. He looked younger, his skin wasn't the ashy grey Mal was beginning to associate with Underworld Gods, his facial features were less harsh though not soft, and his hair was normal.

Where Poseidon had looked distinctly different to Dad, you could tell that Zeus and Hades were siblings with only a glance.

Her eyes flicked to Hercules, who looked surprised to see her in the place of Hades’ child. She returned her gaze to Zeus and curtsied to the king, bowing her head.

“King Zeus. You requested my presence?” Mal asked, disguising her anxiety in calm like she always did.

She felt like several hundred weights had been placed on her shoulders as she felt Zeus’ gaze trail down her form, assessing her.

“You are Hades’ child?” Zeus asked finally. Mal didn't dare raise herself from her curtsy and only lifted her head slightly.

“I am, King Zeus. However, I have a younger twin brother, so I suppose you could be thinking of him instead of me,” Mal added, bracing herself. She didn't think that was an insult, but she couldn't be too sure.

Her wings itched, wanting to lift themselves from her curtsy. She didn't like bowing to others. “Brother.” Poseidon’s voice rang out throughout the room. “Are you going to make our niece bow this entire time?” He questioned, somehow catching onto her wish to stand straight.

There was silence for a moment as Poseidon no doubt stared Zeus down until Zeus grumbled out a ‘stand’. Mal did as she was told, movements graceful despite her wariness.

Apollo caught her eye and winked in a gesture Mal wasn't quite sure what it meant. Not that she was given much of a chance to figure it out, as the other gods almost immediately drew her into a conversation.

Or as much as a conversation constantly being asked and then answering questions can be. Mal answered each one in detail, only leaving out the truly personal things; what happened to her wings was not something she wished to share, thanks, Dionysus, who may or may not be drunk. Mal couldn't tell.

Eventually, a kind-looking woman sitting next to the fire spoke up.

“Zeus, we've held her here for long enough. Let the girl see her father and brother,” the kind woman said.

Zeus audibly grumbled under his breath but sighed after the woman gave him a soft but firm glare. “Very well, Hades’ daughter can go see him,” he grumbled. 

Zeus either wasn't a happy person, or he just hated Mal. It could be either way.

Mal was just happy that it sounded like she wasn't going to be killed. And happy that she could go see her family again.

The kind woman stood up and stepped into the fire, disappearing and reappearing a few feet from Mal in a warm, but not hot, blaze of fire.

She placed a hand on Mal's shoulder and gently led her away from the hall.

---

Mal was taken to a beautiful garden on Olympus that had her constantly being paranoid over where she was, and was immediately abandoned by the kind woman, Hestia.

Hestia had told Mal to wait here, and Mal was both too scared of disobeying her and too scared of disappointing the woman. Mal didn't need to see it to know that Hestia had mastered the ‘disappointed parent’ look that Hades had reserved for her shenanigans.

So Mal stayed in the garden, sitting on a bench, as curled into a ball as physically possible, so she didn't touch any of the plants dripping across the floor.

She didn't want to anger any gods or nature spirits who were attached to these plants.

Mal wished she were on the Isle. There, no one bothered with gardens, instead choosing homemade plant pots which were much easier to avoid. And then there was the Jungle, which was very easy to avoid.

There were hurried and unsteady footsteps approaching, and Mal shot to her feet. She knew those footsteps, she would be able to recognise them in her sleep.

Hadie stumbled forward, tripping over tree roots in his haste to get to her. Mal caught him and fell backwards from the momentum, a smile forming on her face as she wrapped her arms around her brother.

His arms snaked around her as he curled around her, wet tears dripping onto her shoulders where he had once again hidden his head. Mal felt similar water spread from her eyes, and she could not bear to disturb their hug, even as the smell of rotting plants met her nose. Hadie didn't seem like he wanted to let go either.

In the end, it wasn't Mal or Hadie who disturbed their hug. Instead, it was their father who lifted them to their feet so he could hug them as well.

Mal melted into the gentle hug with both her father and brother, a smile plastered across her face.

Soon, she'd take them to meet Ben and they could start planning how they were going to take down the barrier and Mal would need to confess that the barrier was nothing more than a glorified wall at this point.

No matter what happens in the future, her family is slowly coming back together.

---

It turned out Dad was just as uncomfortable in Olympus as Mal was, and they left as soon as it was possible. They ended up in the Underworld as Dad wanted to check up on it, Hadie wanted to see it, and Mal just wanted to experience it when she wasn't almost dying or was using her powers.

It was a bit different than what she expected. Mal hadn't seen the cave roof arching high above the ground, stalactites hanging like hundreds of blades ready to fall at any second; nor the elegant but Gothic castle with many large towers and spires made of black stone.

Dad strode forward, leading them to a small dock swarming with ghostly people. A small boat made from driftwood rested on the black waters of what must be the River Styx.

The crowd moved to allow them through with eerily synced movements. The skeleton driving the boat turned slightly to them and bowed low.

“My King. Do you wish for me to take you to the palace?” The skeleton asked, voice deep and coming from nowhere. Dad nodded, and the skeleton turned its eyeless face to her and Hadie. He raised the pole he used to drive the boat from the water, revealing a sharp spearhead at the end of it. “Should I deal with the mortals or are they prisoners?”

Dad's hair sparked, momentarily growing before settling down into how it usually looked. “My children, actually,” he corrected, a forced calm straining his voice. “And yes, I would like passage to the castle, Charon. For all three of us.”

The skeleton, Charon, lowered his spear into the water and waited for them to climb on. The boat rocked under their feet, and Mal latched tightly onto Hadie’s arm when it rocked especially hard.

She was sure it would tip over and force them into the water, and she still couldn't swim. Mal didn't even know if Hadie could. And even Dad couldn't get out without assistance if his stories were to be believed; not that Mal believed they weren't, she knew that if he was telling them something about the underworld, there were no embellishments. He wanted them to know that it was just as good as it was bad and vice versa.

Dad laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, and despite the contact making it more than obvious and the unknown place she was in, Mal let herself tremble from fear of falling into the water.

Despite her fear, she couldn't tear her gaze away from the water. It was murky and dark, like ink, and she could see spirits floating along the surface, bodies eerily relaxed. The river reminded her of white paper stained with ink, the way the ghosts moved reminded her of a corpse before rigour mortis was beginning to set in.

A child's dead eyes found their way to hers, gazing blankly. Tears welled in her eyes. Mal could almost hear their voices.

When she acknowledged the noise, it grew louder until the dead's voices overwhelmed her brain; pleas, wails of fear and grief, sorrow, anger, everything in so many voices.

She was disturbed from staring blankly into the water by her Dad moving her so she was facing him. “Don't listen,” he advised. “It'll make it worse, trust me.”

Mal nodded numbly and hid her face in Dad's chest. It was still loud, and Dad started humming the lullaby. Mal had covered her ears, and at that point, she felt him humming more than hearing, but she appreciated the thought greatly.

There was a thud that left her shaking even more as the boat collided with… something.

A gentle hand ruffled her hair. “It's okay, Mal. It's just the dock,” Dad told her, voice soft but clear. Mal opened her eyes to check, and they were indeed at the dock, though it was set inside a canal leading into what she recognised to be the palace.

Dad stood up and helped both Mal and Hadie onto the dock. He went to speak when a loud crash and several shrieks, both male and female, came from behind a set of large doors. His head snapped around so quickly Mal thought his neck would've broken if he were human, and then back again to glance at them.

“I'll be back soon,” he sighed. “Don't wait for me, I'll come get you if it gets too late. Please do not go to the Fields of Punishment or Tartarus; aside from that, it's free rein. Be safe,” Dad told them. He patted Mal on the shoulder and Hadie on the head before disappearing.

Mal blinked in surprise before accepting it. She wasn't quite sure if Dad knew if she had accidentally brought herself here or not. If he did, that was good news because he hadn't confronted her about her risking her life to free him. If he didn't… a scolding that she wouldn't even be mad about because that was how Mal knew Dad cared, was in her future.

She glanced over at Hadie, who seemed vaguely concerned about the crash and interested in exploring.

An idea formed in Mal's brain. She knew Hadie missed Patience, and she wanted to wander around Elysium so why not go visit her?

Admittedly, she was exhausted from the day's events and just wanted to be alone in silence, so pawning Hadie off onto Patience sounded like a great idea. Mal knew he wouldn't mind, and they'd probably make up for the time lost when the two of them had settled a bit more.

Though Patience dragging Mal into conversation as she often did might be a bit of a roadblock.

---

Eventually, Mal managed to extract herself from Patience's delighted chatter with Hadie as a sacrifice, and she wandered for a while before ending up in an empty courtyard somewhere in Elysium.

There was an enchanting mosaic on the floor, a night sky with glowing flowers and beautiful butterflies fluttering around the petals. In the centre was a fountain made from darker stone than the rest of the white buildings around the courtyard.

Mal traced the mosaic with her eyes, committing it to memory while she twirled her fingers around the crystalline water. When she got back to Auradon, Mal thought she'd paint a scene like this.

She could almost see it now; lovely purples overtop of black night skies, stars glimmering in galaxies, a small island looking entirely too small in the scope of it all.

Mal knew what paints she would use, some of the oil paints they made on the Isle that she had been learning how to use over the past two years, and who she would show it to first; Ben of course, his wonder at seeing her work always caused a flurry of butterflies in her gut in a good way.

Gentle footsteps drew Mal from her mind, and she glanced up to see who it was.

“Hello, Lady Persephone,” Mal greeted. The goddess smiled shyly and sat on the edge of the fountain next to her. She seemed nervous, more nervous than the last time Mal saw her. “Is everything alright?” Mal added.

Persephone shifted slightly, nervous and slightly embarrassed. “I sort of haven't told your father that I'm living down here,” she admitted. Oh. Oh . Mal flashed back to when Aphrodite had told her about Persephone’s crush on her father. That would be Mal living in Ben's house before they dated.

Which technically wasn't the best example, as that was what basically happened. It was a bit weird though.

“He won't mind if you pay rent in paperwork. Dad always goes on about how there's always too much work to do in the Underworld,” Mal advised awkwardly. She had a feeling that even if Persephone and Dad didn't end up together, Persephone would end up being a part of the underworld.

Persephone smiled softly, the delicate thing looking like it could shatter at any moment. “I've been helping out where I can, hopefully he won't mind,” she assured, more to herself than Mal.

The two of them fell into an awkward silence until Persephone finally broke it. “Nyx said that Hades wanted you and your brother to find your way back,” she told Mal. “Work’s taking longer than he thought it would, and he doesn't want you two down here too long. That's why I came to find you.”

Mal nodded, grateful for the message, even if Persephone hadn't led with it. “I'll go grab Hadie and meet back at the palace. Let Nyx know,” Mal told Persephone. 

The goddess nodded, and Mal stood, thoughts of starry skies, twins, butterflies and withered roses swirling through her mind like paint.

---

When Mal returned to Auradon, she found Ben, made sure he knew she was okay, introduced him and Hadie to each other and sat down to sketch out her painting ideas while she kept an eye on them.

Ben was getting along quite well with Hadie from what Mal saw from the corner of her eye. Carlos and Jay were dragged into their chat when those two turned up. Mal finally apologised to Evie, and all went well for the day.

Better than Mal expected at the start of it.

Right now, Mal was sitting on the roof outside her room, a hidden spot she had discovered when she first arrived, because really, the windows were more than big enough for her to get out o,f and part of the roof was right outside.

The sky was painted in rosy shades of orange and pink as the sun set slowly. There was a soft thud from the window, and Mal glanced over to see Ben wriggling out of the frame.

Ben pulled himself out of the window and almost fell, underestimating the turn he would have to take to climb onto the roof.

Mal laughed as she pulled him up next to her, arms flexing as she practically lifted him. Ben flopped onto the roof, clinging tightly to the tile.

“How do you manage to get up here without any help?” Ben asked, sounding more concerned than curious. Mal laughed again, guiding him to a more secure spot where he could sit up.

“I've been climbing things since I could walk, Ben,” Mal told him. “Even before my wings, I had the instinct to throw myself off high places.”

His face paled so fast it was both funny and terrifying. Mal waited for the colour to return to his cheeks before saying anything else. “Not that I don't appreciate the company, but why did you bother to come out here and not wait for me to come back in?” She asked.

Ben blushed, looking away awkwardly. “When you left, I promised you a kiss,” he whispered. Mal felt her cheeks heat up.

Mal leaned in before he could say anything else and waited for him to kiss her. He did, and Mal kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning into him.

Ben pulled away abruptly with a squawk as he fell back, dragging both of them off the roof. Instinctively, Mal summoned her wings and latched onto Ben, catching both of them before they could meet the ground.

She dropped the two onto the roof and laid down next to him, a giggle escaping her mouth. Ben made a sound of terror escaping him as he rested limply on the tile.

Mal kissed him on the cheek, reveling in how she seemed to reboot his brain and curled up next to him on the roof to watch the sunset.

Soon, the barrier would be coming down, and her gang and all the others would be free. There would undoubtedly be problems that would follow, both on the Auradon and Isle sides, but that could be worried about another day.

For now, Mal was going to steal a few more kisses from her perfect boyfriend, go have a sleepover with her brother to make up for lost time and prioritize herself for a change.

Just until the barrier came down, then Mal could go back to choosing others over herself like she always did.

And as the sun set behind the horizon, Mal knew that the Isle's hunt for freedom was over with the dying orange of the sun.

.

..

…

..

.

Deep in the recesses of the earth, so deep that it was neither Gaia's nor Tartarus’ domain, laid a library. Tall and with domed ceilings, it lay delicately in Khaos’ embrace.

That embrace was an enchanting thing, allowing the bookshelves that reached for the ceiling to be filled with tales from the past, present, future and even the many branching realities so close to each other yet so different at the same time.

This was the library of the Fates.

Standing around a long bookshelf in the middle of the room were them. Lachesis, the decider of Fate, carefully parted the books on one shelf to place a new book down.

“Are you sure the story's over?” Atropos, the cutter of the strings of life, asked. Clotho, the spinner of life threads, leaned over her shoulder.

Lachesis hummed to herself. “It may follow the future goddess of ghosts, but it is as much a large-scale struggle for freedom as every other story on this wall. And freedom has been found. The thread of this story has been snipped,” Lachesis replied softly.

Atropos nodded to herself before speaking once more. “You'll have to give me the eye so I can read it. I was too distracted with my usual duties when you were writing it.”

Clotho stepped forward, ignoring her sisters as they chattered. There she trailed one wrinkled finger down the spine of the book as she read it aloud.

“Of the Banished.”

---The End---