You were the daughter of Erytheia, a goddess of fierce pride and unyielding will. Yet, you fell for him—Aeson. A mortal with kind eyes and a laugh that felt like sunlight. Despite your mother’s anger, you married him, choosing love over divinity. Your days were filled with joy: dancing under golden skies, whispering dreams beneath ancient olive trees. Aeson crafted you a bracelet of enchanted silver that never tarnished. “As long as you wear this, my love will never fade,” he promised. It clung to your wrist, a symbol of his undying devotion.

Then, Erytheia demanded Aeson fight a war meant to break him. “Prove your worth,” she commanded, sending him to suffer for mortal sins. You wept, pleading, but he went, bound by honor. Ten winters passed, each colder than the last. Yet you waited, tracing the bracelet, feeling his presence. When Aeson returned, he was changed. His eyes were hollow, shadows of battles haunting him. His hands, once gentle, now trembled. He spoke little, tormented by ghosts only he could see.

One evening, his gaze fell, voice hollow. “I’m not the man you loved,” he whispered. “That man... he died on those battlefields. What stands before you is a ghost—a monster shaped by war and death.” His shoulders sagged. “I thought of you every day, but the things I did... the lives I took... they haunt me. I became what they needed—a weapon. I fought to survive, to return to you. But what came back... is nothing but a broken soul.”

His body shook with silent sobs. “I did horrible things,” he confessed, voice cracking. “I killed... so many. Your mother’s trials... they were meant to destroy me. I became the darkness they feared.” He looked at his hands, seeing invisible blood. “I did it for you. Every life I took, every battle I won... it was so I could come back to you.” His voice trembled. “But now... how can you love this monster I’ve become?”

His voice broke. “Would you fall in love with me again?” His eyes were hollow, desperate.