Chapter 3

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Henry' pov

"It's nice to meet you, Flower." I exclaim with a smile, as I reach over to politely shake her hand.

"You too, kid" she says, shaking my hand.

"Well it's kind of hard to call me kid when we're the same age," I laugh.

"Well, we are dead" she says, lightly gazing to the dirt floor "who knows how old we really are."

I quickly debate whether or not to correct her. Hades is after my family and so are his minions like James. I gaze into her soft eyes, and decide that I can trust her. I mean, she did just save me.

"Actually I'm not...dead."

Her head quickly snaps up at me.

"What?" she breathes.

"Me and my family came down her to save somebody," I carefully choose my words. "So technically we're not dead."

Slowly a huge smile came across her face.


Flower's pov

I feel kind of bad for not telling the nice boy my name, but it's a chance I just can't take. When he mentions how he's not dead, he attracts my attention. It's not every day that the living come strolling into the land of the dead.

Huh, never thought I would ever relate to myself as dead.

When he mentions him and his family being here to save someone, I put two and two together.

For about a week now, people have been talking of heroes coming into the Underworld to save one of their loved ones. Heroes who could save us from Hades.

Before I died, I never needed saving nor did I believe I ever would. But now that I've been in the Underworld for God knows how long, receiving daily beatings from the God of Hell himself, my beliefs have slightly wavered.

Hades hates the fact that I'm a 'hero' so he lets his anger for heroes out on me every day. I've never seen myself as a hero, but it doesn't really matter what I think. I get beat either way.

Ever since I first heard of the heroes, I've noticed that there's actual hope for those that inhabit here. Hopes of moving on, hopes of being reunited with loved ones, and hopes of leaving this cursed place. I even saw a flower bloom the other day.

He must be one of the heroes.

I suddenly realize it's been a while since I talked and he's looking kind of scared.

"Sorry I was just thinking," I say rushed "so you're one of the heroes?"

"Yeah well I guess, but I'm not very helpful," Henry claims, sadly dropping his head "I don't have magic so I'm practically useless."

Judging by the way he drops his head and his darting eyes, I can tell this is something he's been struggling with for a while.

I don't know what's come over me, but I have a sudden need to comfort him. Maybe it's because he reminds me of...

Nope, gonna stop that thought right there.

Before my brain can continue thinking, I slide off the pile of brush and onto the floor in front of him. I reach over and tilt his chin up.

"Listen to me, Henry. You don't need magic to be a hero. A hero's job description is to help people. There are people out there without magic that are heroes for doing what they can to bring good. All you need is courage. And you had the courage to run from that idiotic Prince and the crazy fur lady. A coward would've given himself up."

Scara Rose, The WarriorWhere stories live. Discover now