She opened her mouth to speak.
"I'm…" But the words faded before they ever formed. Something shifted within her—something subtle, something foreign. Her vision blurred—not with tears, but with an odd, internal disorientation. It was as if she had suddenly been transported somewhere else entirely, far from where she stood.
A strange warmth spread through her body.
It wasn't divine. It wasn't familiar.
It was… human.
Her breath caught softly in her throat. Her limbs trembled faintly, as if her body were trying to tell her something it had never needed to before. She instinctively hugged herself, a small shiver racing down her spine.
Her heart—once so steady, so unaffected—pounded erratically.
Confusion clouded her features. Her confident smile vanished, replaced by something uncertain. Something far more delicate.
Something fragile.
She felt… feverish.
"...Are you alright?" Cael's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, laced with concern. His hand squeezed hers protectively.
She didn't answer—not yet.
Her other hand, the one not held in his, slowly moved downward. She didn't even realize it at first. It was like her body acted on instinct, guiding her fingers toward the strange heat pooling low in her abdomen.
Her fingers brushed lightly over the fabric of her dress.
A pause.
Then, something warm. Sticky.
She looked at her hand.
Red.
Bright red.
Blood.
Her breath hitched sharply. She stared at her trembling hand as the realization clawed its way up from the depths of her mind.
Blood? But… I'm a goddess. I can't bleed. I shouldn't be able to...
The silence that followed felt suffocating.
And then the answer struck her—cold and unrelenting.
Veilpiercer.
His skill.
It wasn't just suppressing my divine abilities. It wasn't just weakening me in battle.
It was worse.
It stripped me of everything that made me divine. It made me mortal. Completely. Entirely. Even in ways I never imagined.
Her body was reacting like a human woman's. The thought echoed inside her head, relentless and surreal.
She took a long, unsteady breath and looked up at him.
His expression was full of worry—genuine and kind—but oblivious to the truth.
She was no longer a goddess in that moment. She was just… a girl.
"It's just…" she began, her voice barely audible. "This has never happened before. I've never felt this way. Not in all the time I've walked this world."
She glanced down at her bloodstained fingertips again, then quickly wiped them on her cloak, as if the sight of them alone was too much to bear.
Cael stayed silent, eyes searching hers.
Then, after a moment, he spoke—awkwardly, almost nervously.
"I'm sorry, Goddess. I… I didn't know you could bleed. Like a woman."
Something about his words made her chest tighten—not in pain, but something more complicated. More human.
She let out a soft breath. Her eyes softened.
'He doesn't even realize it's because of him. Because of his touch. Maybe… he should know about it.'
"Cael," she said gently.
"Yes?" he replied, immediately alert.
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "It's because of you," she said finally. "Because of your ability. Veilpiercer. Whenever you touch a divine being… you strip away their divinity completely. Not just powers or strength, but everything. Even their essence. You made me fully human… just by holding my hand."
He blinked, stunned. "Me? I caused this?"
Hestia nodded slowly, lifting her hand toward the paper in Cael's hand which was his status which he still didn't read, it glowed, runes shimmering into view. Text flowed across the page, illuminating the truth she had tried to hide.
Cael looked at the glowing page, he realized he didn't even read his status yet.
She watched his eyes scan the words, his expression darkening as realization settled in.
And then—without warning—he let go of her hand.
Instantly, she felt the divine current surge back into her.
Her strength returned. Her senses sharpened. The warmth, the ache, the blood—it all vanished in the blink of an eye.
She was a goddess once more.
But the experience still lingered—like a memory imprinted on her skin.
A bitter smile curved her lips.
"So… this is what it feels like," she murmured. "To be human."
Cael stood frozen. He didn't speak. He didn't move.
And Hestia didn't blame him.
He had turned a goddess into a mortal, without meaning to. Without knowing. Just through touch.
She looked down at her hands again—hands that had just been so vulnerable, so breakable.
A part of her was still shaken.
"I never thought I'd bleed like that," she whispered, not to him, not even to herself, but to the void between them. "Not from battle, not from injury—but just… naturally. Like any other woman."
"I'm sorry," Cael said softly, voice full of guilt.
Hestia shook her head, her Black hair falling gently over her shoulders. "Don't be. It's not your fault. You didn't choose this power. You couldn't have known."
He looked down, ashamed.
"But now I do know," he said quietly.
She gave him a faint, tired smile. "Yes. And knowledge always comes with weight."
The silence between them stretched again, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable. It was heavy, yes—but necessary.
There was nothing Cael could say.
For the first time, a goddess had bled like a human.
And I was the reason why.