"Ah~ I didn't expect you to be so skilled with your hands, Rhadamanthys." the girl smiled raising her new flower crown "Where did you learn to do these things?"
"They're knots, if you change the flowers for strings you will get the same result."
"I would have preferred a more appropriate lie for the occasion but... I couldn't expect less from you."
The warrior blushed when he saw how the beautiful young woman placed that nonsense on her head and even managed to intertwine it with her curls without her crown falling apart:
"How am I?"
"Ridiculous."
"Ah~ You are very bad at lying, Rhadamanthys."
And it was true, there wasn't a single person more beautiful than Rhea on the face of the earth still even wearing that crown that seemed so stupid to him. Perhaps for other people the girl was nothing special but for him, her face and her kindness could compete with the Greek deities. She was a blessing for a bloodthirsty soldier like him, a fragile girl who could undoubtedly destroy by holding her by one arm but who, in the same way that a flower stands out in the middle of a swamp, Rhea had made him want to protect something so insignificant like a insect in the middle of his path:
"That trash will not last long but at least you will remember me for a few days."
"I wish there were infinite flowers like our love, so they would last forever."
"What a stupid thing."
"Ah ~ Don't pretend, your heart also would love something like that."
Yes, it could be because next to Rhea he would be able to believe anything, so he allowed himself to be coaxed by those words. So, between jokes and tender moments the the time to say goodbye arrived without them noticing. It was the first time they did it being aware of their feelings, so the tears emerged fleetingly from the warrior's gaze; her too, but seeing a lady cry was something everyone was used to, especially if her love left with the troops of the Greek army:
"I'll be waiting for you, no matter how long it takes." She said, before kissing him.
---
Years passed, perhaps too many, so many that Rhadamanthys lost count of how many wars he had to wage before returning home; however, in his mind and heart the last moments with Rea always shone, as that summer afternoon in which the girl enjoyed her new flower crown. Rhadamanthys remembered her brown eyes illuminated by the sun or her curls full of petals and leaves. Everyone shouted in honor of the goddess Athena but he, in his consciousness, screamed and fought for Rhea, for to return home as soon as possible in a victorious way so that they could spend the time they had left together.
But love, like flowers, wasn't eternal.
The day he finally returned, his world completely plunged into the darkness. There, in the house where Rea had spent her childhood and the last days with him, there was no one left; the house was empty and abandoned for too long. An intense fear ran down his spine. Where was she? Where had she gone? What had happened? Nervous and restless, Rhadamanthys searched all the places in the house, found no signs of theft or violence so it seemed that Rhea had left of her own free will but why and where? As Rhadamanthys headed back towards the town, the warrior came across an old man whom he believed he recognized for having lived in the area:
"Excuse me, sir, do you know what happened to the people who lived in that house?"
"Oh... They moved in years ago, guy, I think even the young woman got married."
"D-Do you know where… she lives now?"
"Perhaps more in the center of the city they will know how to answer you, I only know that no one has lived here for a few years."
---
Rhadamanthys only took a few hours to find out about Rhea's new home: a large and spacious house known to the agora as one of the most luxurious in the area. He walked towards it, confused by all the information he had obtained, it seemed that the girl had married for love with a private soldier who shortly after, thanks to the fortune of the gods, he had been considered as a small local hero acquiring a large sum of gold and privileges for his exploits. The people said that he was they also were parents of three boys and a girl born not long ago so the mother of the little ones barely left her home; in her place, the servants were the ones who obeyed her orders and her husband, very occasionally he was seen in public areas. The family had chosen to own her home and nothing else.
However, Rhadamanthys remained obsessed that story couldn't be real as Rhea's words echoed in his head. "I wish there were infinite flowers like our love, so they would last forever" "I will be waiting for you, no matter how long."
But the facts ... were totally different.
Indeed, Rhea had had children a long time ago. The oldest of them may would have around eight or nine years old, that was the age that Rhadamanthys calculated when he saw the family leave the house for a walk: They were a small crowd guided of a dark-haired man, three children who were happily running around their mother and a baby that she was holding. After them walked about four or five servants who watched over the health of the woman, a Rhea that she had only become more beautiful with the passage of time. But she didn't even seem to recognize him when they all walked past him despite their gaze's meeting.
There was no doubts, there was no surprise on her part and above all, there was no love in her brown irises.
Everything, absolutely everything that Rhadamanthys believed in, disappeared.
---
That night, Rhadamanthys ended his own life.
He created by himself the rope that was wrapped around his neck, decorated with the same flowers that in a special day, he used to make Rhea's crown. He closed his eyes, dedicating all his hatred and rage to the goddess of war who kept him separated from her love for so long, he despised the image of Athena, he hated with all his being the existence of the gods and when he jumped, he dedicated all his conscience to the image of the woman who had betrayed his feels.
They were those feelings, so intense and impure, that caused the Wyvern surplice to come to his arrival at the gates of the Underworld. There it was, a pristine purple-hued armor inches at side from the god of hell. His energy, his presence, surpassed any limit known to man:
"Claim the surplice of the Wyvern, young warrior, become one of the three judges of hell and fight by my side to defeat Athena."
Incredible but true, the fate served him on a platter the opportunity to take revenge on the goddess who had taken him away from the shiny surface. Rhadamanthys smiled with pleasure so it didn't take a moment to kneel before his new lord and swear allegiance to him for all eternity:
"So be it, my lord Hades."