Chapter Text
“Your soul will go to the Fields of Punishment.”
A sharp shout rang through the throne room, refracting off its high ceilings and black pillars. The burly man’s face twisted as he knelt before the throne, his incorporeal form flickering with anguish and fury. “No, my lord! What’d I ever do to deserve that?”
“Let me see,” said the lord of the Underworld, perched rigidly on his throne. His voice was slow and level, but his brown eyes were as cold as winter. “You’ve committed multiple cold-blooded murders, even more robberies… Oh, and there was the occasion on which you killed several Hoshidan mortals in order to instigate a war between the gods, and attempted to murder my sister, the goddess Corrin, in the process.” He folded his arms across his chest, glaring down at the dead man with one eyebrow arched. “Is any of this ringing a bell for you, Hans?”
“I did it for Nohr!” Hans exclaimed. “Your father ordered me to, remember?” He launched a glob of spit from his mouth, barely missing the lord of the Underworld’s feet. “And he was twice the god that you—”
Hans was silenced when Niles, one of the god’s retainers, seized his arm and jerked him to his feet. “Quiet. Lord Leo has already sentenced you to the Fields of Punishment, and honestly, you’re not making yourself look any less punishable by running your mouth. Or spitting out of it. Should you even be able to spit, since you’re dead?”
Hans narrowed his eyes. “Wanna find out?”
“Oh?” Niles grinned, leaning closer to Hans’s face. The criminal cringed back. “Say, that’s quite forward of you—but unfortunately, you already have a date with the Fields of Punishment that just can’t wait. Come, Odin, let’s make sure he shows up on time.”
Leo’s other retainer, Odin, darted forward from his position beside the throne, grabbing Hans’s other arm with a flourish of his hand. “My spell hand aches to cast this miscreant into the abyss!”
Leo watched as his retainers hauled a still-protesting Hans out of the throne room. “I’ll get you for this!” Hans said.
“What can you do?” Leo shot back with an easy smirk. “I’m already in hell.”
He only allowed his shoulders to slump and his mouth to droop once the doors had closed, leaving him with only his thoughts for company.
He had long ago lost count of the years in which he’d served as the lord of the Underworld. Before the war, he’d simply been the god of wisdom—young and ambitious and revered by the mortals of Nohr. He had dwelled at the peak of Mount Krakenburg with the rest of his family, with plenty of time to devote to his studies and, sometimes, even time left over to read for pleasure. His existence on Mount Krakenburg hadn’t been idyllic, but Xander, Camilla, and Elise were never too far away. They had walked among the mortals of Nohr quite often, and made many visits to Corrin in her tower in the north. Always, Leo was encompassed by life.
Now, he was surrounded by death. Day after day after day, the souls of the dead lined up in an endless procession outside his throne room, awaiting his judgment, and he had to decide the fate of thousands upon thousands of souls. Hans was an exception—Leo had long waited for the berserker to perish, so his soul would come before Leo’s throne to face punishment. But the rest? He’d never encountered most of these people before, and yet it was his duty to determine their eternal destinations.
And it was always so dark. As a god of Nohr, Leo wasn’t unaccustomed to darkness—his family’s lands were often cloaked in clouds and shadow—but the Underworld was something else entirely. Elysium, where the greatest, most deserving souls were sent, was filled with blissful light, and the Fields of Asphodel weren’t especially dismal either, but the rest… The Underworld was so dark that the day looked the same as the blackest night. The bleakness was as thick as tar, wrapping around his feet and the ends of his cloak as he walked, weighing him down with every step. And it was probably toxic to breathe, as well. Leo couldn’t be sure, as he was only one of three living beings in the entire Underworld.
Think of the devils… The doors to the throne room burst open, and Odin and Niles returned to Leo’s sides. Odin was chattering—apparently in the midst of reciting some overly long name that he had given to one of his weapons. Niles met Leo’s gaze with a wry, lopsided smile.
Then, the retainer frowned. “Lord Leo, what’s the matter?”
Leo quickly straightened in his throne, adjusting his collar to make sure it was even. “What? Nothing is the matter. I’m just relieved that bastard Hans has finally gotten what he deserves.”
But that answer didn’t satisfy Niles. He peered at Leo’s face. “I agree with you wholeheartedly—he had it coming—but I don’t believe you.”
“What’s ailing you, Lord Leo?” Odin asked. “Is the darkness whispering odious things in your ear?”
“I hate it when you gang up on me,” Leo grumbled, even if he was secretly pleased that they were concerned enough to press the issue. He hesitated, staring absently at one of the throne room’s dark pillars to avoid meeting his retainers’ gazes. “I was just trying to remember how long we’ve been here now. I realized that I can no longer recall.”
“Neither can I,” said Niles. “Time is odd here.” He leaned against the arm of Leo’s throne and toyed with the strap of his quiver. “It’s tedious after so long, isn’t it? There are much nicer things to do in the dark than handing out divine judgment.”
“Odin Dark thrives in the darkness!” Odin crowed, his voice refracting back at them from the high walls. He paused, his voice shrinking down to a normal volume. “But… it does get boring after a while.”
“Indeed,” said Leo.
It would have been better if his siblings visited more frequently. But Xander was busy with his duties as the glorious lord of the skies and the new leader of the Nohrian gods. Camilla contacted him as often as she was able, via the magic mirror that Leo had set up years ago in his new chambers, linked to an identical one on Mount Krakenburg—but all the same, she hadn’t been down to visit the Underworld in ages, and although he’d never admit it, he missed her suffocating embrace. As for Elise and Corrin, they hadn’t visited Leo once since the war had ended. As the goddess of peace, Elise had devoted her time to traveling across the mortal lands, spreading harmony. And Corrin had come along with her, finally able to see and help the world after spending most of her life imprisoned in the Northern Fortress. She wrote letters to Leo sometimes, recounting her and Elise’s travels, but it wasn’t the same as seeing her face.
If he were honest with himself, he would have given almost anything to see her face.
As if latching onto Leo’s unspoken thoughts, Niles grinned at him. “You know what you need, Lord Leo? Companionship.”
Knowing Niles as well as he did, Leo frowned back. “I’m not sure I’m keen on your idea of ‘companionship.’”
The silver-haired retainer chuckled. “Believe it or not, that isn’t what I meant. Most likely, a one-night stand would only intensify your problem.”
“I don’t have a pr…” Leo started.
“What I meant,” Niles continued over his protests, “is that we could use some new meat around here. Live meat, I mean—we’re surrounded by dead meat. But someone new in the Underworld would be nice. I hold nothing against the two of you, but I also crave companionship.”
“Of which kind?” Odin muttered and nudged Niles in the ribs. He raised his voice. “But I agree with Niles. It would be nice to have another chosen guardian of the Underworld.”
Leo nodded, silent.
“If you’re really so lonely,” said Niles, quietly laying a hand on Leo’s shoulder, “you should let your family know about it.”
Blood warmed Leo’s cheeks. “I’m not lonely,” he said.
In truth, no matter how lonely he was, there was no way that he would admit such weakness to his siblings. After all, Xander had entrusted him with this task. In the wake of the devastation that the war had wrought on Nohr, he believed Leo to be capable of contending with the sudden, overwhelming influx of the dead. To confess to being lonely in the Underworld would be the same thing as telling Xander that he wasn’t up to the task, and Leo would rather sentence himself to the Fields of Punishment than do that—as if he wasn’t already there.
He wouldn’t pretend that he didn’t still resent his elder brother for practically forcing him into the role of the lord of the Underworld. While Xander was exalted as the god of the skies, the head of Mount Krakenburg and the ruler over all of the Nohrian pantheon, Leo was relegated to the darkness of the Underworld. His name was spoken in whispers in sickbeds, infirmaries, and soldiers’ barracks across the mortal realms. When people prayed to him, it was out of a noxious combination of loathing and fear.
They used to admire me and pray to me for wisdom. Almost nobody did that anymore.
He sighed, unable to believe that he was agreeing with one of his retainers’ ideas. “You know, I do think that another person might be a welcome fixture here.”
Niles smiled, and Odin whooped, pumping a fist in the air. But Leo paused and took in the décor of the throne room again: the looming, dark walls, the ominous pillars, and of course, his ebony throne itself, with its imposingly high back and gnarled armrests. The ground below his feet was still streaked with Hans’s spit, and the stone floor bore the imprints of millions of feet, countless souls awaiting judgment.
“Of course,” he said quietly, “only a fool could be persuaded to sacrifice the sunlight and dwell in a place like this.”
And Leo? Leo was the greatest fool of all—condemned to be the eternal lord of a kingdom of darkness and death, when all he had ever desired before the war was to illuminate the world with his brilliance.