As Zephyrus carried Hestia towards the floating island, she clung tightly to him, her soft hands gripping his wind-swept cloak. The cool breeze enveloped her, a stark contrast to the warmth of her divine presence. Her heart raced, not just from the exhilarating flight but also from the anticipation of what lay ahead.

"How far out are we?" she shouted over the whistling of the wind.

"Only a few more minutes, my lady."

The pair fell into a comfortable silence while she gazed at the approaching island. Hestia furrowed her brow as she took in the sight. The glowing veins of green energy were unlike anything she had ever seen. The island seemed alive, breathing with the wind that carried them. She felt a surge of curiosity and unease at the same time.

"Do you know what that is, dear?" she asked. As she expected, the god knew no better than her. The winds grew stronger and wilder the closer they got, but they didn't affect the passing duo.

The sun slowly set, casting a deep orange glow onto the world above the clouds. "I will leave you at the edge of the forest. There is a magical barrier there that even I cannot pass," Zephyrus said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Beyond it, you are on your own."

Hestia nodded, her gaze fixed on the glowing island as it loomed closer. The radiant veins of green energy seemed to pulse more intensely now, in sync with her heartbeat. She knew not whether it was excitement or apprehension, but something about this place stirred odd feelings deep within her.

As they descended, Zephyrus slowed their approach until they hovered just above the soft edge of the island. True to his word, a shimmering barrier, faint but tangible, marked the boundary of the strange forest. Beyond it, towering trees with glowing leaves swayed gently, though there was no wind within the confines of the barrier. The air inside looked... denser, charged with magic and mystery.

Zephyrus gently set Hestia down at the forest's edge, his feet never touching the ground. He lingered momentarily, watching her, concern flickering in his eyes.

"Be careful, my lady," he said softly. "This place does not play by the rules of the world we know."

"I'll be fine," Hestia reassured him with a smile, though she wasn't entirely convinced. She glanced at the barrier, her hands instinctively moving toward it. "What's inside here, why can't you cross?"

"Whatever is inside doesn't want me there, it seems. I was thrown out of the island two days ago.

Hestia glanced at the forest again, the glowing veins in the trees now appearing more ominous than enchanting. Whatever lay inside the island wasn't just magic—it was alive, aware, and possibly hostile.

"Stay on guard," Zephyrus warned his voice almost a whisper now. "I do not trust this place."

Hestia stepped through the barrier and into the magical wonderland. She immediately felt the power that ran throughout the island and tainted the air. The wind god's form changed and distorted, gaining a green hue. The air felt thick, almost tangible against her skin.

Zephyrus watched from beyond the barrier, his form slowly fading into the background. "Good luck, Hestia," his voice echoed softly, and then he was gone.

Now that she had time to look around her, she noticed it was night. The trees towered above her and blocked any light from reaching her. Another realm. Her eyesight adjusted to the darkness quickly and she found that the ground ahead of her was covered in thick roots and foliage.

Hestia moved cautiously through the dense underbrush, her footsteps light and deliberate. Every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves made her pause, ears straining to catch any sign of danger. The forest was alive with the calls of nocturnal creatures. The hoots of owls echoed above her, and the chattering of unseen monkeys reverberated through the trees. Shadows danced around her, shifting in the corners of her vision, but when she turned to look, nothing was there.

The trees loomed over her, their massive trunks entwined with glowing vines. The soft green light illuminated her path just enough to see the thick roots that threatened to trip her. Her senses were heightened, alert to every movement. The air was still, yet charged, as though the island was aware of her presence.

As she stepped over a particularly gnarled root, she felt something brush against her ankle. Hestia froze, glancing down to see a small, luminescent plant coiling around her leg like a curious snake. Its leaves pulsed with the same green energy that flowed through the island. She carefully untangled it, feeling a strange warmth where the plant had touched her. The island was alive, but it wasn't malevolent—at least not yet.

After a short while, the trees seemed to thin out the further she walked, but they still remained. It was after some time that she found a path that started leading deeper into the forest, a narrow trail that seemed almost too well-trodden for such a wild, untouched place. Hestia hesitated for a moment, wary of how unnatural it felt for a path to exist in a forest so remote and mysterious. But curiosity won out, and she pressed forward.

The gravel crunched beneath her sandals as she walked down the path. It twisted and turned through the thickset trunks and showed no end. Old-style street lamps appeared, lighting the way, flickering softly with an ethereal glow. The light was pale and ghostly, casting long shadows that danced and shifted with each step Hestia took. The lamps appeared newly crafted, their black paint still fresh and unblemished.

"Hello."

Her body was covered in a wreath of flames quicker than she could think, the action more instinctive than thoughtful. The fire roared to life, casting an intense glow around her and illuminating the forest. Hestia spun toward the voice, her hand raised defensively, but what she saw made her falter.

A bleeding god stood before her. Scars marred his skin, each one weeping with slow trails of blood that shimmered in the eerie light of the lamps. Draped around his waist was a simple white towel, presumably he would cleanse himself.

His towering mane of hair framed his face like a wild halo, and the crown around his head glowed a vibrant yellow warning her of the danger emanating from him. The Monkey King.

"Hello, Jaecheondaeseong," Hestia greeted, her voice steady as she performed a small bow, lowering her head in a gesture of respect.

Courtesy, not power, was what was needed in this delicate moment.

The Monkey King's pupils formed into crosshairs, sharp and burning with untamed energy, narrowed slightly at her words. His face twisted, a flicker of something between amusement and anger crossing his bloodstained features.

"Artemis, I guess. And you're Hestia." The man gave her a quick glance before walking down the path. "Come. We can talk in the bathhouse." Hestia's small footsteps echoed on the gravel path as she raced to close the distance between them. The soft crunch underfoot barely masked her quiet breaths as she tried to match his pace, though his stride was far longer than hers. She almost jogged to keep up, her eyes flicking between the towering trees and the imposing figure ahead.

The silence between them was thick, broken only by the crunch of gravel beneath their feet. As she glanced at the imposing figure walking ahead, she couldn't help but wonder how many battles had left their marks on him.

So this is the infamous Jaecheondaeseong. He's not at all what I expected... but then again, what was I expecting? A god of mischief and chaos, yet there's an air of something else around him. Sadness, maybe?

The walk was short and noiseless. In the presence of the two deities, all the wildlife was silenced. A large wooden palisade sprouted around a corner, and steam rose above it. The gate was open, and the path turned into a cobbled path.

"What is this place?" Hestia asked, her curiosity piqued by the serenity of the location.

The Monkey King turned, his crosshair-like eyes locking onto her, though he never stopped walking. His gaze was intense, as though he were measuring her with each word she spoke.

"My favourite place in the world as of now.

.

.

.

It was awkward and tense in the hot springs. Blood ran from the Monkey King's body at a sedated pace. The warm, mineral-laden waters frothed and bubbled a coppery red. His eyes, though partially closed in relaxation, still held that fiery sharpness. His presence dominated the space, leaving little room for comfort.

Zeus asked the wrong person for this task.

"So... why did you come here?"