Hades

The mortal's case consumes me as I amble down the corridor to Daniel's chambers.

Most of what I analyzed on his petition has now engraved itself into my cognizance, pervading my thoughts with the repulsive activities he was fond of partaking in. The mere reflection of it aggravates my disposition, leaving me solemn and silent.

Perhaps my unexpressive character is not simply an outcome of a violence filled childhood, nor the cavernous gut of Kronos, but is instead the consequence of a severe burden which comes with possessing intimate knowledge of the networks and intricate systems of a vicious human existence.

One can assume pretense that all is well, but in truth, behind my apathetic demeanor lies a man who possesses too much understanding of the earthly realm. My responsibilities cater to souls who have committed crimes against their very species, many of which are far too gruesome to even recollect.

When justice is not delivered upon those who abuse their authority, those who feed off the screams and silent pleas of helpless children, those who cover up their offenses and feign their self-righteousness, then it is here --in their afterlife-- where they are met with due comeuppance and punishment. 

And while it appeases the imbalance of Fate, it does not grant me peace of mind.

I am to remember the atrocities of mortal vermin-- the sins of assassins, politicians, government officials, mercenaries, rapists, and those who take full advantage of armed battle to effectuate their depraved fantasies. My duty is not a light one, but it is one I must fulfill. For who would willingly assume this role if not me?

Among the gods, none possesses the wisdom nor the interest to bring justice to the deceased. And for this reason, it is my burden to forsake slumber in exchange for remembrance of human crimes.

Perhaps, it is also why I spend most of my leisure time in my study, laboring away troubling contemplation, and why I am fond of the child who reminds me of my former, more youthful self.

Pausing in front of his chambers, I place a palm atop the cool, level surface of his door, hesitating in pushing it ajar when a soft murmur drifts past me.

"I'm not so scared anymore."

I hear the faint rumpling sound of movement as I slowly and silently push the door a fraction to reveal the child wrapped in Samantha's embrace-- breathing in a steady rhythm of serene quiet as his head rests upon her breast.

She shifts in her place, lifting a hand to his forehead as she pushes away various tendrils of charcoal from his eyes, leaning down to press her lips to his temple.

"Do you want me to sing again?" she whispers, softly rubbing circles on his cheek with a thumb.

Closing his eyes, the child murmurs an imperceptible response, seemingly at ease as she tugs on a curl lightly before releasing it. She hums a gentle melody for a moment before parting her lips, beckoning me closer.

"Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high,

There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby..."

Frowning, I crease my brows together. I have heard this song before, in Daniel's memories.

"I told you she sang to me."

Sensing a slight tug on my cloak, I glance down, parting my lips as I take in the child before me. His hand is buried within the velvet fabric brushing against my leg, regarding me with thinly veiled anticipation and rounded, earnest eyes.

His countenance is no longer diseased, his once unhealthy olive skin has redeemed its previous blush, his irises their childish luster, his lips their rosy, blithe smile, and his small hands their curious wander.

His fingers twist and pull on my cloak, creating a pattern he is not aware of as he indirectly asks for my attention, interrupting my awe-filled trance as I glance between him and the boy in Samantha's arms.

"Are you still sad?" he asks, tilting his head about.

I remain silent as I assess him, blinking multiple times to shy away what I am sure is a hallucination induced by lack of rest-- but the child does not disappear.

He tugs on my cloak once more, prompting me to realize that for the first time since Samantha's return, the child is not afraid of me. He does not evade my touch, he does not recoil at the slightest of my movements, and he returns my vigilant gaze as he used to-- without aversion and with youthful inquisitiveness.

"No."

Frowning, the child steps closer, wrapping his arms about my waist, resting his chin atop my abdomen as he exhales an aggravated sigh. 

"Then how come you look sad?"

I press my lips together, lifting a palm to the child's cheek, savoring this delusion because it feels as if years have passed since the child has interacted with me.

"I am not."

"Yes, you are."

Nodding once, I pry away his arms as I kneel to level my face with his own, lightly compressing my hands around his forearms.

"What would you have me do, then? To show you I am not despondent?"

Ignoring my question, Daniel squirms out of my possession, inching soundlessly to the door opened only by a narrow breach. Placing his fingers on the edge of the aperture, he wiggles his nose between the vacant fraction and strains his eyes to peer inside the chambers.

He suddenly steps away and turns to me, frowning.

"Hey! Why isn't she fat?"

Fat?!

"Distended?"

Visibly off-put, the child returns his gaze to Sam and himself, perplexed that she does not immediately grow swollen upon his silent command.

"You said you placed it there! And it made her look fat!"

It? What have I placed inside her?

Oh...

"Young man, this may not be of importance because you are quite clearly an embodiment of my exhaustion, but what are you talking about? I do not remember having a conversation of this kind with you."

Irritated, he brings a palm to his forehead.

"But you said she was expectitating!"

"Expecting."

"Yes! And then you told me I couldn't pat her stomach because it didn't make music like drums!"

With raised brows, I reach for him again, assuring myself that he is as tangible as I am and not a confabulation of my own preoccupied mind. This time, he does not move away from me and steps willingly into my embrace, encasing my neck with his thin arms before resting his head on my shoulder.

His inky curls brush roughly against the skin of my jaw, tickling me as he writhes into a comfortable position, the tip of his nose lightly skimming my collarbone when I lift up a hand to his back, pulling him closer to me.

The gesture brings me relief and prompts what lies beneath my breastbone into feeling warm, making a heavy exhale escape my lips.

"You will have to forgive me, young man. I do not remember."

We remain in the same posture for a moment until Daniel gasps and detaches himself from my embrace, suddenly perturbed.

"I have to go! You're going to get mad at me if I don't go back!"

Turning around, he splits off into a run down the corridor, desperate to return to an unknown place because of something I do not recall saying.

"Back? Back where? Young man!"

Without a second thought, I find myself pursuing him down the deep shadowed contours of the main hallway, hoping to stop him and receive the answers to my multiple questions. But as I am about to reach for the cusp of his tunic, right as we are about to arrive at the ingress of the throne chamber, he vanishes-- disappearing in the form of an emerald gleam, leaving behind nothing but a faint aroma of saccharine vanilla, and leaving me to ponder whether of not I witnessed anything at all.

After several seconds of remaining still, I hear the sound of muffled footsteps approaching me from behind.

"My lord?"

Apprehensive, I turn around, coming face to face with Death himself. He entertains a concerned expression as he eyes me deliberately, surprised to find me out of sorts.

Frowning, he speaks.

"Has something occurred?"

I wave him off, managing to process what he's said after a moment's deliberation.

"I will be wandering the grounds outside the palace, Thanatos. Should you need me, you may find me on the precipice overlooking the realm. I need to... consider a petition."

With a curt nod, I summon my bident and turn to leave.