Aphrodite and Hera appeared on the banks of the River Lethe. The air was cool and still, the pale mist hanging low over the dark waters.
"Lethe," Hera called, her clear voice echoing softly.
The river stirred. From the fog rose a serene figure, her hair dances like the flowing river, her eyes calm and distant.
"Hera. Aphrodite, how rare." she greeted them. "What brings you to me?"
Hera stepped forward first. "If it's possible, we wish to take a soul from your care."
Lethe blinked, her calm face tilting slightly.
"A soul?" she asked, confused. "Why?"
Aphrodite smiled brightly, stepping in to explain.
"Lethe, it's like this..."
She told Lethe everything about Pygmalion, the sculptor, and Galatea, the statue he loved with all his heart.
When she finished, Lethe turned to Hera, her expression more serious. "I expected such a request from Aphrodite. But you, Hera?"
