Nethermoon loomed over the sky, its pale radiance dimming the stars until they seemed distant and irrelevant. Cold, serene light fell through high windows, illuminating two grand obsidian thrones that dominated the dead-silent courtroom.
Hades sat on one of the thrones and leaned forward, both elbows resting on his knee. Black haze seeped from his skin and drifted through the still air. His eyes were closed, lost in deep thought.
The giant door of the court groaned open.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Footsteps echoed in the court, growing clearer and louder.
Hecate emerged from the darkness, ascending the steps as moonlight gathered around her. Moonlight shimmered over her dark Gothic gown. The skirt cascaded to the floor in soft, smoky folds, long and graceful, evoking the image of the queen of the Underworld. She stood still before Hades, her amethyst eyes fixed on him. "What happened Hades? Sitting here alone?"
Hades opened his eyes and lifted his chin. He met her eyes, a soft exhale escaping him. "Just thinking about our future."
"Future?" She squinted her eyes in interest.
"Sit."
Hecate settled down on the empty throne beside him.
He leaned back and waved his hand; a virtual screen appeared in front of them. The screen floated in the air, then split into countless fragments.
"We have soul reapers, guides, guardians, caretakers and punishers."
Each fragment showed an associated deity performing its duties—reaping, guiding, punishing, and managing.
The fragments stabilised, orderly and complete.
"Every function is fulfilled."
"As for a judge," every fragment focused on a single empty seat "Empty."
"But, aren't we the ones who normally judge souls?" The faintest crease appeared between her brows.
"Yes." Hades gave a subtle nod. "Because no one is capable."
Hecate asked "So, you intend to place this burden on someone else."
"Yes. When a crisis occurs, we are too busy with the judgment of souls. Our enemies take advantage of this."
His hand tightened over the armrest as words left him.
"End. Druvak."
The atmosphere in the courtroom became heavy as lead. Shadows climbed the dais like tides against the shore.
Hecate's warmth closed around his cold hand. The court atmosphere returned to normal. Tension drained from his face as he looked at her. "It's okay. We will look for the right one. Together."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The Underworld breathed again. He kept staring at her.
A thought surfaced in her mind. With a subtle movement of her hand, the screen rippled. "What about Judora?" The screen became still and showed Judora working on documents. "She is intelligent and hardworking."
Hades kept his silence and snapped his fingers; the screen showed an event from a few hours back.
Judora covered her face with a mask and hood; she was standing in a back alley, leaning against a wall. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she waited for someone.
After some time, someone walked into the back alley with a similar outfit. He threw a pouch at her.
Judora caught the bag and opened it. The pouch was filled with gleaming gold coins, precious jewels, and diamonds.
She put her hand inside, closing her eyes as she felt the cold, hard surfaces of the gold and gems. Her lips lifted in pleasure.
Then she took out a gold coin and inhaled sharply. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her finger tightened around the gold coin. Her true feeling escaped in a murmur, "Smell of…money—best."
The man coughed. The sound snapped Judora out of her indulgence. She sealed the pouch, side-glancing at him. Then she produced a small vial of vicious purple liquid and hurled it forward.
The clip froze. Hades turned his head slightly toward Hecate. No words followed. His eyes settled into a calm, merciless stillness.
She met his gaze and understood what he meant. She murmured "…Judora."
Disappointment hardened into quiet fury as her eyes returned to the suspended image.
Hades flickered his hand, and the screen went blank. "I already examined each and every deity…but, no one was suitable for this role."
Silence suspended in the court—Hecate half closed her eyes, as a doubt arose in her mind. If deities are not good then—
Her eyes widened in realisation, she asked, "Are you intending to give this authority to a mortal?"
Hades's lips slightly curved upward. "That's why I love you. You always know what I am thinking."
He gently held her hand, and with one gesture through his hand, the screen blinked, each showing a unique one—king, beggar, artist, bandit, and even demonic monsters.
Her vision drifted over each screen then returned to Hades. "So, what are your criteria—wait!" She raised her hand in a gesture to stop, "Let me guess,"
She studied each image.
He simply looked at her guessing. After a few seconds, she shared her thoughts. "Cold heart, ruthless when needed, flexible mind… and not swayed by desires. But still intimate with them."
"Right." Then many screens disappeared; a few remained. He clicked on one of the screens; that screen increased in size, and the remaining screens suspended in the corners.
Hectate waved her hand in the empty air, and two black ceramic cups appeared before them and began to levitate silently. Then these empty cups were filled with steaming dark tea. She handed one to Hades.
They raised the cups, eyes fixed on the screen.
"This was my first candidate,"
A handsome king sat upon a golden throne. Two servants stood side by side, fanning him with feather sticks. The king discussed a serious topic with a minister. "He is Thomas Redwyne, king of a small country. Reistar."
Hecate's eyes lingered on the screen and asked, "What's special about him?"
"He was too strict with rules and customs. Enough to kill his own son, for murdering a servant." Hades answered.
Hecate stared at him. "Only ruthless and discipline is not enough to judge the souls?"
"I know. That's why he has to pass the trials."
Hades snapped his finger; the screen enlarged. Focus shifted to the screen.
Thus, beneath the Nethermoon, the fate of a king slipped from mortal hands.