CHAPTER 114: EVERYDAY IS A FUNERAL

Somner and Aphrodite knew what the tombstone meant, even when they no longer had the ability to read Medieval Irish.

Once they left to return to their real selves, the memories of knowing the ancient language and even the memories of the bodies they inhabited had faded and become fuzzy.

The only thing they recall was what they did in that time period....

Which were honestly the only ones that mattered.

They knew Hermes must have felt a sense of loss. They saw him giving the flowers and kneeling by the tombstone as an act of grieving.

But then...

As Hermes’ fingers lingered against the engraving, his voice slipped out, low and deliberate.

"Every day, we hold funerals."

Somner blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Hermes closed his eyes, gathering the words carefully. "I never thought about it before. But now that Apple is gone... now that I feel it... I realize I never really understood loss. I never had parents. I wasn’t born into this world like others are. No brothers, no sisters. No family to lose."

Aphrodite tilted her head, her lips pressed thin. She didn’t interrupt.

"But now..." Hermes’ voice trembled faintly, though his expression remained composed. "Now I know. Every day, we bury the person we were yesterday. Every day, we change. We just don’t notice it until something makes us look back."

He let out a quiet breath, eyes tracing the finch on the stone.

"My old self... The Hermes that I was back then... he’s gone. And Apple was also gone. And it hurts, because he was me, and yet he wasn’t. But... I suppose this is what it means to live. To change. To die, in small ways, every day."

Somner shifted uncomfortably, his usual sarcasm absent. "That’s... heavier than I expected from you."

Hermes smiled faintly. "Is it? You’ve changed too, Somner. You were once a boy who clung to this facade of being self-obsessed and narcissistic. It was the only way you could survive the pressures of your lineage, and to hide the pain of losing your sister."

He took Somner’s hand. "Now you stand as Cael McNamara. The pressure lifted off your shoulders, your bond with your sister mended."

He glanced at Aphrodite. "And you, too. You’ve grown braver, stronger. No more hiding or being scared of Mindbloom. Or even your own unique thoughts."

Aphrodite’s eyes softened, though he didn’t answer.

Hermes’ gaze drifted to the stars above. "Even Ymir has changed. And Eirwyn... yes, even him. Or at least, what we thought of him has changed."

His voice lowered. "Every day is a funeral. But also... a birth. A chance to gain something new."

For a moment, silence wrapped the three of them. The night was still, save for the rustle of leaves.

Then Somner exhaled sharply, breaking the weight. "You’re getting too good at speeches, Hermes. And here I thought I would always be the most talkative one in our trio."

Aphrodite smiled faintly. "You still are."

The small exchange eased the heaviness, but the truth lingered in their hearts. Hermes had changed.

He doesn’t hear Apple’s voice in his head anymore. Because it was his voice now too.

Just like how it had always been.

So things really had been the same and different at the same time.

***

The next morning, Hermes made his way toward the Ninth Department headquarters. They had their sleepover at Somner’s but he went to work earlier than the other two, who were both heavy sleepers and woke up in the middle of the day.

The Golden Apple’s building stood tall, its hallways buzzing with activity. He had been here many times before. And yet, as he walked, he could not help but think about what had changed...

And what things remained the same in this new timeline.

Somner may no longer be the head of the Ninth Department, but he still carried influence. Enough to have Eris, his sister, arrange Hermes’ transfer from the Sixth Department to the Ninth.

The "phony war" had still occurred. The staged conflict between Ymir’s Sixth Department and Magni’s forces still exposed SHIFT’s manipulations and Eirwyn’s betrayal. That much had not changed.

But other things... had shifted.

The incident with the Megamantis and the child had never happened. In this timeline, that Chapter of his life was written out, erased by the ripple of going to Early Medieval Ireland.

As Hermes stepped into the elevator, he mulled over these fragments of past and present. The doors began to close. Then a hand slipped between them, forcing them open again.

Ymir stepped inside.

The air cooled instantly, as if his presence carried winter with it. He stood tall, sharp-featured, every step exuding the same precision Hermes remembered. His hair gleamed pale as snow under the fluorescent lights, his coat as immaculate as ever.

For a moment, Hermes said nothing. He had wondered what Ymir would be like in this timeline.

The answer was clear: not much different. Still the ice prince, still proud, still sharp-tongued.

The elevator hummed as it descended. Ymir’s gaze flicked to him, sharp as frost.

Then, unexpectedly, he asked. "How have you been?"

Hermes blinked, startled by the simplicity of it. "Pardon?"

"I said... " Ymir’s voice was flat, though his eyes betrayed a sliver of sincerity. "How have you been?"

Hermes hesitated. "Same as usual."

Ymir studied him, then gave the faintest smile. "No, you’ve changed."

His eyes narrowed, but not unkindly. "You feel different. More... centered. Stronger."

Hermes tilted his head. "Is that so?"

"Becoming a real hero really turned you into a new you." Ymir said carefully. "A better you, I’d say."

The words cut more deeply than Ymir could have known.

Hermes felt both warmth and ache. Warmth, because Ymir’s approval mattered in ways he hadn’t expected. All those years he spent resenting him because of how Ymir treated him as below him. And then the years before that, admiring Ymir and his power.

And then... That short time during the phony war, where Ymir gave him some ’tough love’.

He was right. He really needed this change once he became a hero.

But there was also the ache, because Ymir had not seen the price of this change. He hadn’t been with them when they shifted Glasán’s story and when he was separated from Apple, his shadow self. He hadn’t witnessed the loss.

To Ymir, this was simply who Hermes was now. The result, without the story.

Hermes smiled faintly, though the sadness lingered beneath. "You might be right."

The elevator chimed. The doors slid open to the sixth floor.

"I hope this new you is strong enough to face him." Ymir suddenly said. "I know it’s hard for you. But I think... You deserve to be the one to go after him."

Hermes’ eyes widened, the hairs on his arms raising. "You mean..."

Ymir gave a somber nod.

"Yes. We have a lead on Eirwyn’s whereabouts."