HSR Lore and Notes

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====== Blooming Season: Letters to the Nether Realm ======

> Sender: Cyrene
> Recipient: Demiurge

//*This page of the story comes from the 309,785th Eternal Recurrence, in a tranquil place where flowers bloomed. Imagine if the girl who returned to the nether realm wasn't completely cut off from the mortal world, and the Netherwing, retaining Polyxia's remaining sanity, ferried her back and forth across the River of Souls... *//

"The dragon's here, the dragon's here again...!"

The skies of Okhema suddenly darkened as the Netherwing's massive silhouette circled above the Mamoreal Market, blocking out the sun. With powerful wingbeats, it descended upon Kephale Plaza, unleashing an earth-shattering roar. The residents frantically rushed back to their homes, retrieving items they had prepared in advanced. This had clearly become the holy city's newest custom, as people eagerly crowded around the Netherwing, afraid of being left behind.

"Please give me a Mortis flower! In exchange, please take this candlelight to Lady Castorice on the other shore!"

"Me too! I'd like a few bunches of Antila flowers to decorate my little shop. In return, I'll give you some seasonal fruits. They're super fresh, just harvested a few days ago!"

The Netherwing lifted its wings, revealing two large flower baskets tucked beneath. The Holy City Guards did their best to maintain oroder, but they couldn't hold back the enthusiastic residents. In no time at all, the flowers carried by the Netherwing were "exchanged" completely, with satisfied residents departing while the baskets were filled to the brim with gifts from the holy city's inhabitants for the demigod of Death.

After their busy work, Guardians Zeph and Mnemosye let out a long sigh and gently patted the Netherwing's neck. "Every time you come, it's such a grand spectacle... You've really outdone yourself, Miss Polyxia."

A gentle purr resonated from the Netherwing's throat. It shrugged its neck, shaking loose several letters from beneath its plated scales.

"Miss Castorice's letter from the netherworld... still as weighty as ever, I see. Oh right, there's only one reply letter for Miss Castorice this time, please keep it safe, Miss Polyxia."

The guards tucked the delicate letter behind the neck of the Netherwing, who gently nuzzled the two before slowly taking flight, circling above the Mamoreal Market for a moment, before flying off toward Styxia.

The far shore of the River of Souls remained as tranquil as ever.

Yet it was not only the azure Antila that bloomed here. Beneath the gentle radiance of the Moon Cocoon, the sea of multi-colored iridescent flowers spread like a vast, warm embrace, tenderly cradling the slowly descending Netherwing.

At the center of the sea of flowers, a girl in white ran toward Netherwing. She was the owner of the flower shop Spring of the Underworld. "Welcome back, Polyxia!" She wrapped her arms around Netherwing's neck. "... You've brought back so many things again this time. Thank you so much."

Netherwing rumbled softly.

"Let me see what replies my companions sent me... Huh, only one letter?"

The girl stared blankly at the letter in her hands. Netherwing softly nudged her shoulder, urging her to open it.

"In this letter... there's just a group photo taken with a photostone. It's wrapped in a golden thread. It must be Lady Aglaea's..."

The moment she touched the golden thread, a vision suddenly stirred within her mind. The Chrysos Heirs had gathered in the Marmoreal Palace, and the white-haired youth at the front cleared his throat. "Thanks to Professor Anaxa and Lady Aglaea's joint research, the 'letter' this time not only lets Lady Castorice hear our voices, but also see our faces. Everyone, have you decided what you want to tell her?"

The haughty scholar was the first to speak. "The alchemy matrix to reach the underworld is nearly complete, Castorice. You may await the good news..."

"Our Great Performer is indeed a genius, if only he would speak with a little less swagger. Cas, I asked someone to drop off some clothes for you. The nether realm is cold, and even as a demigod, you need to take care of yourself, said the blonde weaver.

"Alright, my turn. Castorice, here's something fun: Mydei lost to me two weeks in a row. Next time, bring me a bunch of yellow and purple hyacinths. I remember the flower's meaning is 'try again after failure'..."

"... According to the records in my family's great library, yellow and purple hyacinths mean to concede defeat."

The girl burst out laughing. Then Hyacine, Tribbie, Chartonus... all those familiar faces left their precious images. She had never imagined she could read a letter this way.

Netherwing laid down at the girl's side, silently watching her joys and tears, just like it had done in a distant past, blurred and half-forgotten in memory.

The visions woven into the golden thread slowly faded into silence. The girl leaned against the giant dragon, clutching the photo to her chest as the west wind stirred waves across the sea of flowers.

"Polyxia, let's plant for flowers. The Flame-Chase isn't over yet... maybe one day, my companions will come here."

"When that day comes, it will be an embrace after a long parting, and this gentle sea of flowers will be my truest blessing."

...