(Greek Mythology) The Abyss
Chapter 86
The Abyss Temple was always silent. While other gods' temples had attendants, the Abyss Temple was inhabited only by Tartarus, so quiet it was almost deathly still. Even the slightest sound seemed amplified a thousandfold, as clear as Eris's footsteps, which should have been almost imperceptible.
He traversed the corridors familiarly, heading towards Tartarus's dwelling place. In the stillness, only his own footsteps and breathing were clearly audible, echoing in the empty temple. The loneliness accumulated over millions of years subtly enveloped him, slowly seeping into his heart.
When Eris entered the room, Tartarus was lounging in a recliner, his long, pale fingers idly fiddling with the jade chess pieces on the board, disrupting the game. He exuded an air of nonchalance, his long, ink-black hair cascading down his sides like a waterfall, unbound yet perfectly styled.
Tartarus never wore elaborate or ornate jewelry, usually only holding his hair back with a simple ribbon. However, sometimes Tartarus was too lazy to do it himself, and didn't want his maids near him, so he simply let his black hair flow freely, as he did today. Since he rarely went out, it didn't bother him.
Eris knew Tartarus's habit. She tiptoed to his side, knelt down, took out a brand-new hairband and comb, and after a few seconds of silence, seeing that Tartarus didn't object, began to tie his hair.
The dark hair was cool to the touch, reflecting a dim, cold light. There wasn't a trace of tangling, but Eris still carefully combed it through before securing it with the hairband.
This was supposed to be a maid's job, but Eris's technique was skillful and precise, her movements gentle and careful, as if her hands held not hair but a rare treasure, her caution suggesting she was afraid of breaking a strand.
Tartarus suddenly recalled the first time Eris had tied his hair.
At that time, Eris had just arrived in the Abyss. The little girl timidly held a hairband and comb, her expression slightly nervous, her voice a soft, sweet child's voice, "Uncle, may Eris tie your hair?"
Tartaros glanced at Eris casually, giving a perfunctory "Mm."
Ignoring Tartarus's indifferent attitude, the girl's smile widened instantly upon receiving his consent, her eyes sparkling with joy and satisfaction.
Eris's movements weren't as swift as they are now, but they weren't clumsy, clearly indicating he had practiced many times beforehand.
"Your Majesty, it's done." Eris's words interrupted Tartarus's reminiscence.
"Eris, I remember you used to call me Uncle when you were little, but now you only call me Your Majesty." Tartarus looked down at Eris, who had just put the comb away.
Although he didn't really care, Tartarus had indeed been agonizing over the issue of address for years, which could be attributed to his utter boredom.
"Because Your Majesty is Your Majesty," Eris said, tilting her head slightly, her smile unchanged, gentle and pure.
Glancing at Eris, Tartarus gently closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and closed himself off to rest, not pointing out that Eris's excuse was obviously just a random one; he never cared about such trivial matters.
"Has Charon's amnesia not returned yet?" Tartarus changed the subject.
"Not yet, but Leter said it would be resolved soon."
"I really look forward to Charon's reaction after regaining his memory; it'll be very interesting." Tartarus's attitude was clear; he was completely taking amusement from the situation.
"I'll go urge Leter to find a solution as soon as possible." As he spoke, Eris began to consider a hundred ways to coerce and bribe His Majesty Tartarus to his satisfaction.
"No need, I'm not in a hurry." Tartarus's words promptly stopped Eris's terrifying thoughts.
"A new betting game has opened in the Underworld. It's a bet on whether Charon will give up immediately after regaining his memories, or continue pursuing him even if it's just a platonic relationship." After searching his mind for things Tartarus might find interesting, Eris finally spoke.
"Which one are you betting on?" Tartarus asked, propping his head up with his hand.
"I think both are possible, so I didn't choose. Your Majesty, would you like to bet?"
"No interest." Unless absolutely necessary, Tartarus never showed any interest in such gambles and rarely participated.
"Hermes wants to dig a river in the garden outside the temple, build a bridge over it, and place a stone next to it, but she's been rebuilding it several times and isn't quite satisfied." Eris, always adept at reading people's expressions, quickly changed the subject.
"Hermes wants to dig a river in the garden outside the temple, build a bridge over it, and place a stone next to it, but she's been rebuilt several times and isn't quite satisfied." "Of course she's not satisfied." Tartarus chuckled, a sudden realization dawning on him.
The Bridge of Helplessness was designed to resemble a charming waterside village, while the Three Lives Stone looked more like a rockery in an ornamental garden. No wonder she was dissatisfied.
This is the generational gap caused by different worlds; communication and understanding are extremely difficult. Tartarus chose Denise as his subordinate precisely for this reason. Otherwise, the constant communication breakdowns would be too troublesome, and he had no patience to act as a Google expert, trying to educate anyone on common sense.
"And because it's so noisy, Tarasa is almost ready to move out," Eris continued.
You see, although Tarasa, as a water-attribute deity, wouldn't be suppressed in Hell like a light-attribute deity, she still wouldn't particularly like the environment.
So, Hemera, what exactly did you do to deserve this? Even your own daughter can't stand it and wants to move out of Eudora. (Serious face)