The sun was just beginning to set when Zorya arrived at Persephone's garden, the sky painted in hues of deep orange and violet. The scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers greeted her, mingling with the faint hum of insects preparing for the evening.

Zorya had always loved this time of day—the brief moment when day surrendered to night. It reminded her of home, of the stars beginning to peek out and guide her steps.

Persephone was kneeling near the stable, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tended to her horse, a magnificent black steed that had been sick for weeks now.

With each passing day, the animal was becoming weaker and less lively. In the last few days, it barely had energy to stand up or even eat. It mostly laid in its stable and stared blankly at the wall.

Zorya's heart sank as she noticed how tired Persephone looked, her usual brightness dulled by worry. She slowly approached her friend and knelt down by her side.

"Zorya," the goddess greeted her with a small, tired smile. "You're here."

"Of course," the nymph replied, looking towards the horse. "I came as soon as I could. How's he doing?"

Persephone let out a weary sigh, stroking the horse's mane.

"Not much better," she ran a hand through the animal's mane. "I've tried every remedy I know, every medicine and herb you told me about. I even went to Apollo for help. Nothing seems to help."

Zorya placed a comforting hand on Persephone's shoulder. She knew how much this horse meant to her friend.

They had raised him together from a colt, spending countless nights riding beneath the stars. To see him like this, struggling for each breath, broke both their hearts.

"Shhh," Zorya cooed quietly, gently patting the horse's neck.

He was too weak to even raise his head, blinking slowly as he looked up at his two caretakers.

"There, there," Persephone murmured.

For a moment, there was silence, the only sound filling the air being the animal's heavy breathing. But after a moment, even this went quiet.

Tears broke free, flowing down both of their cheeks. Persephone had to look away, putting her hand to her mouth to muffle a quiet sob, that wanted to leave her. Beside her, Zorya closed her eyes, bowing her head.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her fingers brushing against the horse's sleek fur. "I'm sorry I couldn't do mo—"

Before she could finish, Persephone suddenly straightened, her head tilting slightly, as if she had heard something. Zorya noticed the subtle shift, the way Persephone's gaze seemed to search the shadows beyond the garden.

"Seph?" the nymph asked, her voice tentative.

The goddess didn't respond immediately. Instead, her eyes lingered on something behind them. The nymph squinted, trying to see what had caught her friend's attention, but all she could make out was the water fountain and trees behind it.

"Persephone, what is it?" Zorya asked again.

But instead of answering, Persephone only stood up and walked towards the fountain. It wasn't until she followed after her friend, that Zorya noticed a red glint coming from the top of it. Alarms went off in her mind. It wasn't there when she arrived.

And she didn't like that. It couldn't have just simply appeared. She quickly learned that even though there were gods and other mythical creatures, as the mortals called them, nothing in this world happened purely by magic. There was always someone hidden behind every action – a god, a nymph, satyr, anything.

And in her experience, most of those times didn't go well. There was always a trap or another hidden motive behind object suddenly appearing seemingly out of thin air.

But Persephone didn't seem to share her sentiment, as she reached into the fountain and pulled out a small vial, filled with a shimmering liquid.

Zorya stared at the vial, her confusion deepening.

"What is that?" she asked.

But it wasn't Persephone that answered her.

"For your equine friend," a deep, male voice said from behind them.

Both of them gasped and the goddess let go of the vial. The bottle didn't shatter, but the cork popped open and the contents spilled around, onto the ground.

But as they whirled around, no one was there. Almost as if they disappeared into a thin air—which they probably did, Zorya guessed. Still, she looked around for a moment longer, but she couldn't spot anyone. Whoever was just there, truly had disappeared.

But before she could start thinking this through, she heard Persephone gasp again.

The goddess had already turned back to the mysterious vial and looking down on it, she discovered that a flower – a dead flower that used to grow at the base of the fountain – came back to life after some of the vial's contents spilled on it, the red liquid still dripping down from its petals.

But even though it seemed to be completely okay, Zorya still didn't trust whatever was inside of it.

Persephone, on the other hand, did, as she raised the vial and inspected it. then, she gasped, as she suddenly got the idea of what to do with it. She held it close to her chest, as she stood up.

"Seph, wait," Zorya grabbed her arm. "We don't even know what that is, or who left it there. You can't seriously be thinking about-"

"Just look at this flower," the goddess pointed towards the said plant. "It died a few days ago, and I haven't had time to do anything about it, yet. And somehow, it came back to live after the vial's contents spilled on it."

Zorya still didn't look convinced, her gaze flicking around the garden, her senses sharp, but not as sharp as they would be at night – which she kind of wished for at the moment. Still, she could feel the presence too—something lingering, just out of reach. Someone was watching, but from where?

"I don't like this," she muttered, her voice low. "Whoever that was, he shouldn't be hiding in the shadows like this. He should show himself."

"It's medicine, Zorya. Whoever that was, he left us a medicine, that could bring back my horse."

"You don't know that," the nymph crossed her arms.

"Just look at the flower!" Persephone exclaimed. "You saw it was dead and you saw it come back to life. What more proof do you need?"

Zorya studied her face, her own emotions warring inside her. She didn't want to point out that maybe Persephone's powers slipped and healed it when she was startled. She couldn't bring herself to destroy her friend's hope like that.

Still, she didn't trust this at all. The air was too still, too quiet, almost as if warning them against something.

But Persephone's determination was unshakable. The nymph had seen that look before, the one that said she wouldn't be swayed. And after a long silence, Zorya sighed.

"Alright," she relented, though the tension in her body never eased. "But I still don't like it."

Together, they walked back to the stable. Persephone knelt beside her horse, carefully uncorking the vial and letting a few drops of the shimmering liquid fall into the animal's mouth.

For a moment, nothing happened. The horse remained still and lifeless. But Persephone remained calm, gently stroking its mane as the medicine took effect.

Zorya stood nearby, arms crossed, watching everything with wary eyes. She scanned the garden repeatedly, half-expecting someone—or something—to emerge from the shadows. But she still found nothing.

And then, the most unexpected thing happened – the animal heaved in a small breath, followed by another, the one more. Slowly, but surely, its breathing went back to normal, and it opened its eyes.

Persephone's eyes filled with tears, as she glanced towards her friend. The look in her eyes was almost as if she wanted to say, 'I told you so', but Zorya didn't comment on it, too relieved.

The horse raised its head and Persephone instantly hugged it. After a few moments, she pulled away and glanced to the side, where she let the vial drop to the ground.

She grabbed it and walked towards Zorya, who still stood by the doors. She also glanced around, hoping to spot anyone, but just like her friend before, she saw no one.

So instead, she hugged the, now empty, vial close to her chest and bowed her head slightly in gratitude.

"I thank you," she said softly, her voice carried away by the gentle wind that swept over the garden.

Then, she started looking around again. She glanced at her friend, before speaking again.

"It's you again, isn't it? The one who visited me before?"

"What?" Zorya's brows furrowed, her instincts flaring up. "What do you mean?"

This was something she wasn't aware of, that a mysterious stranger was visiting her friend. But the goddess only shook her head softly, silently telling her it was alright.

"Why don't you show yourself?" Persephone continued.

But only silence answered her.

*****

The night sky stretched endlessly above, the stars twinkling like scattered gems in the deep canvas of the heavens.

Zorya moved silently through the forest, her senses tuned to the pulse of the earth beneath her feet and the chilly air filling her lungs with each breath she took.

She had always felt at home in the night, under the stars, where her power was strongest. She could feel the quiet hum of life around her—the soft whispers of leaves in the wind, the rustle of small creatures moving through the underbrush.

This was her world, one she had roamed for centuries, and her role in it was clear. As a Star-Touched Nymph, her duty was to guide lost souls, to help them find their way, whether it was the souls of the recently departed or those simply lost in their own lives.

It was a task she had taken on since she was old enough, and though the stars whispered their secrets to her, the journey was always a solitary one.

Zorya moved with purpose tonight, her gaze sharp as she searched for the soul she had sensed earlier. It was faint but growing stronger, a mortal who had wandered too far from the safety of the village nearby.

She weaved through the trees, her footsteps light as she followed the faint glow of a wandering spirit.

As she reached a clearing, she saw him—a boy, probably no older than seven, sitting on the ground with his head in his hands. His breathing was heavy, his shoulders shaking with fear.

Zorya stepped into the clearing, her presence silent but undeniable. The moment she crossed the edge of the clearing, the boy's head shot up, eyes wide in terror.

"Who are you?" he stammered, scrambling backward on his hands and feet, his back hitting the trunk of a nearby tree.

Zorya remained calm, her gaze steady as she regarded him. She had seen this many times before—mortals who wandered too far into the night, lost and terrified, unsure of what awaited them in the shadows.

The reaction was also something she was familiar with – most mortals forgot or didn't believe in the existence of the gods and other creatures. To them, all of them were simply stories, something to praise, but actually to believe in.

Many mortals only believed because they wanted to have an explanation for what was going on around them. Little of them actually looked deeper into the stories, trying to figure out of they were real or not.

Putting on her best reassuring smile, Zorya stepped closer, her hand outstretched in a gesture of peace.

"I'm here to help," she said simply. "You're lost."

The boy hesitated, his eyes darting around as if expecting something worse to emerge from the darkness and attack him.

"I—I didn't mean to... I don't know how I got here."

The nymph knelt before him, close enough to offer comfort but far enough to give him space.

"The night can be disorienting for those who don't know its ways. You wandered too far from your path, but I can help you get back."

The boy swallowed hard, still eyeing her with suspicion.

"How do I know you're not... one of them?" he asked quietly.

"One of who?" Zorya raised an eyebrow.

"The creatures of the forest," his voice grew even quieter, barely above a whisper, trembling. "They say there are things out here, things that lure you in and never let you leave."

Zorya couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Some of her sisters were from that kind of nymphs – those who seduced wandering men and not letting them go.

Oh, how many arguments they had over them, when one of them got to the person—most usually a man—which Zorya was supposed to guide back first and refused to let them go. Many of the mortals refused to leave. Once they got a taste of the immortal's desire they could hardly get enough.

"There are creatures in the forest, yes, but not all are dangerous. Some are here to protect, to guide," she paused, tilting her head slightly. "Like me."

The boy stared at her, his fear warring with a growing sense of trust. Zorya could feel his uncertainty, but she remained patient, giving him time. After a long silence, he finally nodded, his body relaxing slightly.

"Okay," he whispered. "I'll follow you."

Zorya gave him a soft smile and stood up, extending her hand to him.

"Come. I'll take you back."

The boy took her hand, his grip shaky but firm enough to stand. As they began walking through the forest, the nymph stayed a few paces ahead, her senses sharp, though she knew the forest well.

The stars above seemed to guide her steps, and though the boy couldn't see it, she could feel their whispers, their subtle pull. As they walked, the boy's curiosity got the better of him.

"Who are you, really?" he asked quietly, as if afraid to break the silence of the night.

Zorya glanced back at him briefly, before turning back to the path ahead.

"I'm a nymph."

"A nymph?" the boy's eyes widened in awe. "Like... a real one?"

"No, the mythical one," Zorya remarked, then let a small smile grow on her face. "Yes. I've lived in these woods for centuries. My task is to guide lost souls like you."

"Centuries..." he breathed, as if the concept was too large to grasp. "But that's so long!"

"For you, maybe," she shrugged. "But for us, the immortal beings, it's not that much. There are some beings that have been alive for thousands of years and are still active to this day. For them, a century is almost nothing."

"Whoa," the boy's eyes widened. "But I thought nymphs and other creatures only existed in stories."

"Stories often hold truth," Zorya replied, her tone light. "You mortals just forget that sometimes."

They continued in silence for a while, the boy still processing the fact that he was walking beside a creature from legend. Zorya could feel his awe and disbelief, but she let it settle on its own.

Her focus remained on the path ahead, on ensuring they didn't stray from the stars' guidance.

After a few more minutes, the boy spoke again, his voice quieter now.

"Why do you help us? Mortals, I mean. You've lived for so long... we're just... passing by."

Zorya didn't answer immediately. It was a question she'd asked herself many times over the centuries. Why did she care about mortals? Why didn't she chose to seduce and play with them, like her sisters did?

The mortals were fleeting, their lives brief and often full of mistakes.

But as she glanced back at the boy, she saw the answer in his wide, wondering eyes.

"Because even the briefest lives can leave a lasting mark," she said softly, "And everyone deserves a little guidance when they're lost."

The boy nodded, seeming to understand in his own way, though he remained quiet after that. They walked for what felt like hours, though the journey was shorter than it seemed.

Eventually, the faint glow of the village appeared in the distance, the flickering lights of the hearths and torches a welcome sight for the boy.

"There. That's as far as I go," Zorya said, pointing ahead. "You're almost home."

His face lit up with relief, and he quickened his pace, but before he could run ahead, he stopped and turned back to Zorya, his expression a mix of gratitude and something else—curiosity, maybe, or respect.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't found me."

Zorya gave him a small nod. She knew just how dangerous the woods could be at night, especially for someone so young and unexperienced.

"You're safe now," she said. "Just stay on the path next time."

The boy smiled sheepishly, then turned and ran toward the village, disappearing into the flickering lights.

Zorya watched him go, her gaze lingering on the boundary between the wild and the mortal world. She often guided souls like his, lost in the night, their lives brief but important in their own ways.

But there was always a distance between her and the mortals she helped. A chasm that couldn't be bridged, no matter how many times she extended her hand.

With a sigh, she turned back to the forest, the shadows closing in around her once more. The stars above whispered softly, guiding her steps as she returned to the place where she truly belonged.

And so, her work continued, night after night, century after century—alone, but never aimless.

*****

Zorya walked through the dense woods, her mind still lingering on the boy she had just guided back to his village.

As much as she relished the quiet of the night, she couldn't deny a small part of her missed the chaos that came with family. Her sisters, in particular. It's been a few months since they last crossed paths, and though they often butted heads, there was a bond there—one as ancient as their lineage.

The trees thinned as Zorya approached a familiar glade, a hidden spot her sisters often gathered when they weren't out causing mischief.

As she stepped into the clearing, she heard a burst of laughter and spotted her sisters lounging near the edge of a small pond, their figures bathed in the soft light of the moon. They looked carefree, teasing one another and laughing loudly, their voices carrying through the night air.

Zorya smiled despite herself. Her sisters could be trouble, but they always managed to bring a certain kind of energy wherever they went. She hadn't seen them in a while, and though she usually found herself playing the responsible one, she missed them.

One of her sisters, Maia, was draped across a rock, lazily swirling her hand in the water. She was the first to notice Zorya's approach and grinned.

"Well, look who's finally decided to join us!" she called, her tone playful but with a hint of good-natured mockery.

"Careful, Maia," another sister, Theia, chimed in, sitting cross-legged beside her. "Zorya might be here to lecture us again about our ways with mortals."

The said nymph rolled her eyes, stepping closer to the group.

"I'm not here to lecture anyone," she glanced around, noticing one sister was missing. "Where's Astrea?"

Maia and Theia exchanged knowing glances, their grins widening.

"She's... occupied," Maia said, barely suppressing a giggle.

"Occupied?" Zorya raised an eyebrow.

"She's been having a little... affair," Theia said, her voice full of mischief. "Some minor immortal she stumbled upon during one of her escapades. I don't think they've come out of the cave in days."

"Days?" Zorya repeated, half in disbelief, half in amusement. "And here I thought she was better at keeping herself out of trouble."

"Oh, she's enjoying every bit of it," Maia added, stretching out on the rock. "You know how she is—always going after someone she can't have. This time, it's some river god's son. I can't even remember his name."

"I doubt she can either," Theia laughed, tossing a pebble into the pond. "But she doesn't seem to care. Him neither."

Zorya crossed her arms, shaking her head but with a smile tugging at her lips.

"And you two are just sitting here, letting her have her fun, huh? No attempts to rescue her from her own mess? Or better yet – join her?"

Theia smirked, but choose to ignore the latter part of the question.

"Rescue her? Zorya, you know Astrea. She'll be fine. Besides, if he's still there after all this time, maybe he's the one that's caught."

"That's true," Maia said with a wink. "I mean, look at us. We've always been good at keeping mortals—and the occasional immortal—wrapped around our fingers."

"Not all of us," Zorya gave them a pointed look.

The two shared a look and slumped in their seats with a quiet groan.

"Oh, come on," Maia said, before propping herself up on her elbows. "Not this again."

"Yes, this again," Zorya shot back, her tone growing more serious. "We've had this conversation before, but I think you'll need it again. You can't keep taking these mortals—some of them have families. Responsibilities. It's not fair to keep them from their lives."

"Fair?" Maia scoffed. "Since when has anything in our world been fair? You should know that by now."

Zorya sighed.

"It's not about fairness," she said. "It's about doing what's right."

"Oh please, don't pretend you've never been tempted," Theia chimed in. "You're telling me you've never looked at one of them and thought about keeping them close? Even for just a little while?"

"That's different," Zorya hesitated.

At least she thought so, as she never actually acted on that thought. She always carried out her task of leading lost mortals back to their paths, not keeping them company any longer than necessary.

"Is it, though?" Maia said, her grin widening. "You're just like us, Zorya. You just like to pretend you're better."

Zorya met Maia's gaze, the familiar tension rising between them. This wasn't the first time they'd argued about this, and it wouldn't be the last.

Maia had always pushed back against her sister's sense of duty, seeing it as unnecessary restraint, while Zorya believed there was a line they shouldn't cross. Mortals were fleeting, yes, but they deserved their freedom.

Before the argument could escalate, a sudden splash interrupted them. A figure emerged from the pond, dripping wet and laughing—a fourth sister, Cyrene, who had been swimming beneath the surface, unnoticed until now.

"Are we arguing about mortals again?" Cyrene asked, shaking the water from her hair. "You two are always at it."

"Not an argument," Zorya said quickly. "A... disagreement."

"Sounds like an argument to me," Cyrene teased, joining them on the grass. "Honestly, Zorya, you should loosen up. Maia and Theia are right—sometimes you just have to enjoy life. Not every mortal needs to be led back to their dull little villages. Not at once, at least."

Zorya sighed, rubbing her temple. Here we go again.

"I'm not saying we can't enjoy life. I just think we should be more careful. There are consequences."

"Always the responsible one," Maia said, leaning back on her elbows again. "You know, sometimes I wonder if you're even really one of us."

Zorya shot her an annoyed look.

"Of course I am," she gritted.

Theia grinned.

"Then act like it," she shrugged. "When was the last time you let yourself have a little fun?"

"I have fun," Zorya said defensively.

"Guiding lost souls through the woods doesn't count," Cyrene said, stretching out beside them. "When was the last time you did something for yourself? When was the last time you let loose?"

Zorya opened her mouth to respond but hesitated. It had been a while. Longer than she cared to admit. Between her duties and her time spent with Persephone, she hadn't exactly had much room for personal indulgence. Especially since she ended things with Ares.

She couldn't even remember the last time she let herself let loose and actually enjoy a brief romance, or even something as simple as man's company. And she was fine with that, not having to deal with unnecessary drama and distractions.

Or, at least, that's what she tried to convince herself of. Her sisters, as annoying and frustrating as they could be, knew how to enjoy the immortal life, something Zorya never quite mastered.

Maybe they had a point.

Maia noticed her hesitation and smirked.

"See? You can't even answer that. You need to relax, Zorya. You've been wound so tight, I'm surprised you haven't snapped," she giggled.

"Maybe you're right," the youngest nymph admitted with a small sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "But I'm not about to start keeping mortals for days on end like Astrea."

"We never said you had to," Theia said with a grin. "Just... don't be so uptight."

"Easier said than done," Zorya muttered, but there was no real bite to her words.

Despite their differences, she loved her sisters. They might have had different views on life, but there was an unspoken understanding between them. A bond that no amount of arguments could break.

"Come on," Cyrene said, sitting up. "Why don't we do something tonight? Just the four of us. Forget about everything else for a while."

"What did you have in mind?" Zorya asked cautiously.

"Nothing too crazy," the oldest sister said with a shrug. "We could go to the river. There's always something happening there."

Maia's eyes lit up.

"Oh, that's not a bad idea. Maybe we'll run into some interesting company."

"I'm not seducing anyone tonight, Maia," Zorya shot her a look.

She said she might give it a try, but she didn't mean she'd start so soon.

"Fine, fine," Maia laughed. "No seducing... for you. There might be some for us. Just a little. But you're still coming with us."

Zorya sighed, knowing she wasn't going to win this. Once her sisters set their minds on something, nothing could make them change it.

"Alright. But if anything goes wrong, I'm blaming all of you," she warned.

"We wouldn't have it any other way," Theia said with a grin, standing up and brushing off her clothes.

The four of them set off through the woods, their laughter echoing through the trees as they made their way toward the river. Zorya felt a small weight lift from her shoulders, the tension easing as she allowed herself to relax, even if just for a little while.

Maybe her sisters were right. Maybe it was time she let herself enjoy the night for once.

Just this once.