AN: ATTENTION DEAR READERS!

Due to some circumstances, the names of our main characters have been changed. The short form of Angelissa is now Elissa, and Salt has been renamed to Slayte. Preceding chapters will be corrected in the coming days. Thank you for your time. The story continues.


Part XXXIV: Set in Stone


"Ugh, Levi," Elissa groaned, as he set a plate containing a freshly-baked muffin down on the counter in front of her. "I've been eating so much junk already lately, and it's not even Christmas yet."

"Oi," he threw her a disapproving look. "If you don't want it then I'll just put it back."

"No!" She greedily grabbed the plate and pulled it possessively toward herself before he could take it away again. "I'll have it. Your blueberry muffins are the best."

"That's what I thought," Levi remarked.

Slayte sipped on her cup of tea, smiling over its rim at Levi, who met her eye briefly and turned away to serve the next queuing customer. The girls sat on high stools on the side counter, a more private location that was further away from the regular customer tables. It was early morning and Elissa had stopped by the tea-shop to hand Levi her paperwork ahead of the commencing date of her new part-time post. She was indebted and grateful to her friends for their kindness and excited to begin. Working part-time would afford her the luxury of earning her own income again, as well as allow her the freedom to continue hunting for permanent posts more suited to her career aspirations.

"Vetty finally said something to me last night," Elissa turned her attention back to her best friend. "Can you believe what a brat she is? I had to beg her for days."

Slayte blinked in surprise. "What? Really? She did?"

Elissa nodded as she took a bite of her muffin and a careful sip of her steaming caramel latte. "She called you a silly little nymph," she smiled in amusement.

Slayte's eyebrows drew together. "Well... that's rude. What else?"

"I tried to get her to say more but she went back to ignoring me, and then Itachi turned up so I had to drop it." The brunette's eyes lowered. She set her latte glass down, and proceeded to fidget with the folded napkin Levi had neatly placed on the side of the plate.

Slayte watched, mildly concerned, as her best friend unfolded and repeatedly began to twist the tissue, a habit she knew from experience betrayed Elissa's internal anxiety.

"Thanatos came to see you?" she pressed, surprised by this news. Elissa hadn't really spoken much about him, or how she was dealing with the fact that he was Death incarnate. Mostly her questions had related to his deity status and wanting to clarify other matters. Slayte had supposed she was still taking the time to process it all, but wanted to be sure that Elissa wasn't overwhelmed by it. She wondered what further reason Thanatos would have to call upon her so soon.

Lifting her tea-cup back to her lips, she enquired, "What did he want?"

Elissa blinked. "Nothing, really. Just to check that I was holding up okay after... everything, I guess."

"And... are you?" Slayte asked gently, inviting her confidence.

Elissa continued to tug and twist at the napkin, quickly reducing it to frayed shreds. She licked her lips and began in a lower voice, so that only her friend would hear her, "I don't know. None of this has been easy to come to terms with. It's just… so surreal. The things I always thought didn't exist do and nothing's the same anymore."

"You've had a lot to take in, Elissa," Slayte agreed supportively, sympathetically. "Give it some time."

Elissa shook her head incredulously. "A literal prince of gods from the Underworld showed up on my balcony last night." Simply speaking those words out loud still sounded alien and absurd to her. A part of her was still waiting to wake up, to discover that it had all been a dream, somehow. But no amount of pinching herself changed the new reality she was being forced to face.

"Slayte, I…" she met her friend's warm brown eyes helplessly, her expression torn. Slayte could see that her vivid hazel irises were tormented, brimming with bewildered, conflicting emotions as she struggled to come to terms with and articulate her true feelings.

Slayte reached out and placed a hand on Elissa's left forearm, squeezing it encouragingly, reassuringly.

Elissa's gaze returned to the napkin and she slowly exhaled, trying to calm herself down. A few moments of silence passed, before she confided, "He's... what I've spent my whole life hating and wishing never existed. And to think that he's been watching over me, saving my life and protecting me all this time." Shaking her head, she confessed, "I just can't wrap my mind around that. I know he's just a servant to the Fates and they're the ones who decide when a life is over - that's what he told me - and I know I'm safe with him, and he'd never hurt me but…

I still can't help but feel afraid, knowing what he is, what he does. That he's the reason for so much suffering in this world… and that one day, he'll have to take my soul, too. The way he took Evangeline's, my grandparents'..." Elissa's voice trailed off miserably. Every time she believed that she was coping, that things would be alright, all it took was that one, morbid, sombering, depressing thought to send her mood plummeting into a dejected spiral again.

"That's to be expected, Elissa," Slayte comforted her. "He's the ending of all that lives. And he's a god. It's natural to fear his divinity, but he would never allow harm to come to you."

Elissa blinked away her tears, wiping at her eyes hastily to stop any from falling. Crying would do no good, she told herself firmly. She needed to be pragmatic. She needed to accept things for what they were and move forward. And yet of all the truths she had discovered, it was the one about Itachi that caused her the most upset, that she was finding the most difficult to absorb. She knew much of it had to do with her preconceived notions of death. She told herself that having the chance to speak to him about it would surely help her to come to fear it less. If she understood it and the afterlife, surely that would assuage her fears and be of benefit to her?

And yet, deep down, she mourned what he was. She would have wished him to be anything else, anyone else. Because discovering that he was Death himself had resulted in the death of everything she had believed about the nature of their acquaintance. Even despite his words and actions, Elissa knew she needed to kill off any foolish hopes she'd entertained of them progressing any further. He was not her kind. He was so decidedly out of her league. It was probably not a good idea to meet with him any more than was necessary at this point, and yet imagining him gone forever filled her with such inexplicable sadness. A longing she could not comprehend.

"Do the gods choose their roles?" she turned her gaze back to Slayte. "Are they born with them?"

"Some are born with their abilities, some inherit them when the previous god passes," Slayte responded.

"Wait, what?" Elissa frowned. "What do you mean, they pass? The gods are immortal."

"They are," Slayte agreed. "But under certain conditions, they can fade, too. They go to a special place. I don't know much about it, but I know the most common reason is if they go against their function and refuse to see to their duties."

Elissa stared at her, shocked. This was news to her. To think that even immortals were restricted by their own set of laws made her thoughts spin.

"And… Itachi?" she ventured tentatively. "Was he born as Thanatos, or did he inherit that role?"

"I'm not sure," Slayte shrugged. "He's far older than I am, though still young in comparison to other deities. I think he might have inherited it, but I don't know the full story."

Elissa hesitated, before saying, "How old is he?"

"Umm," Slayte's eyebrows drew together thoughtfully. "Truly? I'm not sure. I suppose when you're a deity, it doesn't matter given that you live on forever. Time has a different meaning entirely for them. They don't view months and years the same way mortals do."

"Right. Makes sense." Elissa pushed the napkin aside and took another sip from her hot drink. With a sigh, she went on honestly, "It's funny. I always thought in my head that Death would be hideous. Some awful angel it'd be too terrible to even look at, or this gruesome, hooded reaper - or even something without a face at all." A faraway, distracted look settled over her features, as she murmured, "I never thought, behind that mask, that Death could be so... beautiful…"

Slayte's mind whirred to an abrupt stop. She almost choked on her tea and reflexively spat the remainder of the mouthful out. Coughing and spluttering, she earned an alarmed glance from a startled Elissa and a disapproving look from Levi.

"Are you alright?" Elissa reached out to pat her on the back.

"I-I'm fine," Slayte sputtered, quickly wiping the droplets from the countertop with her napkin. Her mind raced frantically, struggling to comprehend what she had just heard. Lord Thanatos had removed his mask and allowed Elissa to behold his countenance? She gaped, open-mouthed, at her best friend, stunned. It was astonishing. It defied all belief. Slayte couldn't comprehend it.

Recovering, she then exclaimed, "B-Behind the mask? You mean he showed you his face?"

"Yes," Elissa nodded, as if it were the most ordinary and natural thing in the world.

Slayte's jaw dropped lower. "You- you never told me that!" She gawked. "You just said he saved your life and then you found out who he was. You aren't meant to- he showed you? Gods above, Elissa!"

Her best friend stared at her, perplexed. Clearly failing to see what the significance of it was. She did not perceive the magnitude of such an action on Thanatos's part. How could she? Slayte thought bitterly to herself.

At the till, Levi heard his girlfriend's words, and listened attentively as he handed change to the customer whose order he was about to complete.

Elissa shook her head, taken aback by her reaction. "I'm sorry, Slayte. Everything's been a jumbled, crazy mess in my head. I must have forgotten. But that's how I knew that he was..." her voice dropped to a whisper, and a regretful look passed over her features, as she finished, "Death."

It was a significant omission, Slayte thought to herself, and a disturbing revelation that made her mind turn with apprehension. What could Thanatos mean by doing such a thing? A queasy, churning knot formed in her stomach as the only possible and logical conclusions such a gesture pointed toward swamped her thoughts, each one more unsettling and terrifying than the last. Why hadn't he just told her? Why had he chosen to unmask? His face was sacred, not intended to be shown to mortals until the very moment of their passing. Such a sudden shock must have frightened her best friend greatly. Slayte swallowed, deeply troubled. Her eyes shifted back to Elissa, who was staring into space once again, clearly lost to her own thoughts.

She had called Thanatos... beautiful? Slayte recognised that absent-minded look on her friend's face. The look of a girl in absolute enchantment. This did not bode well for Elissa, and Slayte found herself angrily questioning Thanatos's intentions. It was not a nymph's place to cast doubt upon the will and whims of an immortal, but this was her very own best friend, more precious to Slayte than life itself. She couldn't be expected to just sit back and remain silent. To not question it.

Penning a poem to Elissa, choosing to show her his face? It was not like him to toy with mortals and their feelings so irresponsibly. What did he mean by it all?

"Were you alright…?" she finally managed to get out. "I mean, afterwards? That must have been stressful."

"It was," Elissa hugged herself, recalling the chilling moment she had first gazed upon his unconcealed face. "I was terrified. I thought my heart was about to burst out of my chest, but he…" she faltered. "Uh. Well. He did something to calm me down, so I was fine afterwards."

Slayte stared hard at her. Seeing the pink dusting that bloomed into being in her best friend's cheeks, she felt her heart sink in dread. "Something?" she echoed.

Elissa cleared her throat awkwardly. "It was nothing."

"Elissa…"

"He just…" Her blush intensified and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "It wasn't anything. It was probably part of his abilities. It happened so quickly, maybe I even imagined it."

"What did he do?" Slayte demanded.

Elissa bit her bottom lip. She'd tried to dismiss it as nothing, and yet the memory had returned to haunt her continuously ever since that fateful night on the frozen river, robbing her of countless hours of sleep as she'd spent her time in bed tossing and turning restlessly, trying to figure out why he had chosen to soothe her nerves in such a way. To no avail. She had no explanations, only agitation. Only the way simply thinking of it caused her heart to flutter madly within her chest. She'd longed to confide in someone. To share her thoughts, even when she knew it was hopeless, that it had meant absolutely nothing. Who better to lend her ear than Slayte? It wasn't exactly like she could call up her mother and tell her that Death's lips had touched her own.

"He just…" she pressed her fingertips to the corner of her mouth in memory. "It was just a light brush of his lips." She supplied, deeply embarrassed, despite convincing herself that it had most decisively not been a kiss. Kisses were reciprocal. Kisses involved the mutual meeting and moving of two lips. She had been frozen in shock when Itachi's lips had ghosted over her own. It did not count. It had been nothing of the sort. Or so she had spent her days and nights fiercely trying to convince herself was the case.

"What!" Slayte gasped, almost knocking her tea-cup over entirely. "He- he kissed you?!" she cried in horror.

"No - shhh!" Elissa's wide eyes darted anxiously around them in response to her friend's raised voice. Levi shot them a warning look as he took another customer's order. "Slayte, please be quiet, people will hear you!"

"He kissed you?" Slayte repeated in a lower, no less incredulous voice.

"No, it wasn't a kiss," Elissa hissed, trying to calm her best friend down. But the telling expression on Slayte's face was a combination of alarmed and furious. "There's no way he'd ever- Slayte, I told you, he only did it to stop me from fainting. It's how I calmed down at all."

"Right, of course he did," Slayte frowned. Beneath the counter, her hands closed to form tight fists, her protective instincts roaring to life. Regardless of Thanatos's status, she wouldn't stand by and allow Elissa to be taken advantage of in any way. She wouldn't. She couldn't. She knew all too well, how captivating Thanatos was. How easy it was to fall under his dark, alluring spell. She couldn't help what Elissa's feelings were, but Thanatos choosing to act upon his was another point entirely. She had thought him responsible!

"It was nothing," Elissa pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks, mortified. "Please don't make a big deal of it." She pleaded, visibly distressed. "He's a god, the god of death. I'm human. It was just a kindness." She dropped her voice to a hushed whisper and added, "We're just friends. That's all we can ever be."

"Elissa," Slayte managed, appalled. Was her friend in denial? Simply refusing to see what she so clearly could? "But the poem, he also-"

"Please, Slayte." Her friend interrupted, closing her eyes and burying her face into her hands in hopeless sorrow. Recalling the couplet he had penned in her notebook, along with all the other confounding things Itachi had said and done since revealing his identity to her, filled Elissa's heart with anguish. All the little gestures and fleeting touches - they meant nothing. Nothing altered the fact he was a deity and she was mortal. There was no conceivable way forward for them. She couldn't allow Slayte to let her think otherwise. It was dangerous. It was wrong.

"Please, don't." She begged again. "This is hard enough for me already, just coming to terms with what he is. Don't let me think it could be anything else. Please."

Slayte remained silent at that, deeply concerned. It seemed to her as if Elissa was desperately trying to convince herself that her words were right. As if she was forcing herself to accept them.

As if a part of her wished she could think otherwise - but was clearly far too afraid to entertain the very real possibility that Thanatos held her in some manner of affection. She had already consigned herself to the fact that they would remain friends.

As her friend released another heavy sigh and turned sadly back to her coffee, Slayte worriedly found herself wondering whether or not Thanatos had other plans.


After courteously taking his leave, Shisui exited the meeting chamber through the onyx, arched, gilded double-doors, leaving behind the throng of deities who lingered within, drinking ambrosia and conversing following what they had deemed to be a successful assembly.

Itachi fell into quiet step beside him moments later, and together they walked some distance down the vast, black-marble constructed hallway before Shisui telepathically addressed his kin.

'Such insufferable arrogance.' Behind his mask his eyebrows formed a knot of irritation. 'It is as if they have taken leave of their senses entirely. I daresay half of them have never even stood in the same vicinity as Zeus! It's about as much as I can stand to bear attending these blasted meetings where I am compelled to listen to those ignorant half-wits slandering his name.'

Itachi patiently allowed him to vent, sensing he had still yet more to say. Sure enough, Shisui continued, 'They've not a single ounce of intelligence amongst them, following blindly like herded sheep in their flock.' He paused, before adding mildly, 'The way our esteemed ruler prefers his subjects, of course.'

'Cronus has noted our absence from the assemblies,' Itachi cautioned, recalling the confrontation he'd had upon his return to the Underworld after an uncommonly lengthy stay upon the surface spent in Angelissa's company. A few surface days had passed since that night, in which he had only called upon her once after. He knew he could not afford to be careless and permit such generous visits often - no matter how much he desired her nearness. No matter the ceaseless pull he felt to seek her out and bask in the warmth and light of her presence. He possessed not that luxury. What he truly wished to do - and what duty commanded of him - were irreconcilable. The many aeons of his existence had taught Itachi that lesson well.

He had to check his actions carefully, and ensure an increased presence in the Underworld. As difficult as that was between the burdens of his many duties, Itachi knew it was the only way to appease Cronus. He could not, under any circumstances, allow the Uchiha patriarch to learn of the true reasons behind his more frequent and extended ventures to the surface.

Shisui's lips pressed together, forming a thin, displeased line. 'Is that so? Our Leader is aware that our duties are relentless. Indeed, was it not he who ensured that we can scarcely find reprieve from them? He seemed not so willing to have us present in other more furtive assemblies, yet now demands us to attend?'

Itachi turned his head slightly, angling a warning look at his kin. One did not question Cronus. Shisui knew this. He was far too intelligent to allow a slip of the tongue, but Itachi knew him well enough to read the displeasure in his countenance, and for a god as shrewd and perceptive as Cronus was, a simple frown was telling enough and adequate reason to incite his wrath.

'Take heed, Shisui,' Itachi warned.

'You need not be concerned,' Shisui's dark eyes flicked onto him. 'I will handle the royal court and ensure Cronus is appeased. You must continue to look into matters upon the surface. I fear that whoever hunts Elissa does not act alone. For Vetty to take such a bond, to bind her very life-force to a mere mortal; there are larger forces at play here, cousin, and we must discover their intentions.'

Itachi nodded resolutely, determined to unravel the mystery and secure Angelissa's safety once and for all.

Shisui's gaze shifted back to his cousin's aloof countenance. 'I take it, given that my interference has not yet been requested, that all is well with Elissa…?' he telepathically conveyed.

Itachi blinked, his expression betraying nothing of his inner thoughts as they drew to an intersection in the hallway.

'I head to the oceans,' he responded simply, and with that, stepped away from his cousin, taking the left turn that would lead him to the sprawling dark palace's exit.

Shisui paused, watching him go, a small, knowing smile playing upon his lips.


Slayte pushed open the metal door leading to the back alleyway, hauling two large, black garbage bags over her shoulder as she stepped out into the fading sunlight. An unyielding frown was etched onto her face. The same expression she had adopted from the moment Elissa had turned her back and exited the tea shop.

Try as she might to turn the current situation over in her head until it made some semblance of sense, she drew nothing but a blank.

Thanatos was toying with her. He had to be. What other reason could he have for so preying on the affections of a frail mortal? But, no. The god in question was none other than Thanatos. He was nothing if not authentic in all that he did. It was an agonizing paradox. His actions conflicted with everything she thought she knew about him. But this was Elissa they were talking about. Her best friend! She could not afford to sit idly by while Thanatos decided whether or not she was worth amusing himself with. The alternative, that he might be sincere in his intentions towards her, that he might truly wish to make her his, was equally terrifying to consider.

Elissa belonged on the surface, with light, and love, and life. This was where her place undoubtedly was. Surely, Thanatos had to realize that? If he held any appreciation for who she was, at all. Surely he could not intend to steal her away from the surface? Could he?

With the anger she felt brewing within, she cast the garbage into the dumpster, feeling some satisfaction at the resounding crash with which the trash settled. She frowned, thinking about the rest of the trash she would like to take out. Human trash. Blond hair and a smug smirk. Deity trash. Long, raven locks as smooth as water, piercing onyx eyes, a gentle and disarming manner. No, that wasn't fair. He was nothing like Cain. He was good. Or as good as a god could get. Wise and considerate. So, why would he be so forward with Elissa? What did he want from her? Sliding the lid shut with a glare, she turned on her heel only to stumble back in alarm at the sight that met her eyes.

Standing across from her, shrouded in the shadows, stood none other than Thanatos himself. Wrapped in his cloak as if he were little more than a shadow himself, his dark silhouette hovered ominously near the opposite wall of the alleyway.

"Good gods, Thanatos!" she exclaimed, supporting herself on the canister lid as she pressed a palm to her racing heart. "Give a nymph a warning, will you?"

He remained characteristically silent, divulging neither the purpose of his unexpected visit, nor the thoughts that lingered behind those narrowed, Stygian eyes.

Swallowing nervously, Slayte straightened, sorting her thoughts as she was unexpectedly brought face to face with the object of her aggravation.

"Long time no see," she stalled, seeking the words she truly wished to say. "Have you been well?"

There was a questioning air to his impassive aura, and even his silence seemed to ask what she meant by her casual manner.

"Right, of course you have." She crossed her arms and shook her head. "To what do I owe the pleasure? No, wait - forget that - you showed her your face?!"

Formalities and decorum forgotten, she all but shouted the accusation at him. It was at the forefront of her mind, refusing to be ignored, refusing to be silenced. "What- What could you possibly mean by that?"

She paced back and forth, gesturing wildly as she voiced her frustration. "She's only a mortal. But who am I telling this to? You know that better than anyone. So what could be going through your mind revealing your face to her?!" She tugged at her hair in exasperation. It was unfortunate that the cause of her anger was coincidentally also the only one she could voice her concerns to.

"That can't have been safe!" She turned towards him in confusion, decidedly ignoring the unease whispering in her veins, warning her to shut up, that she was risking his anger and that few who did lived to tell the tale. She ignored the rational voice, smothering it in her determination to never again be made low before the gods.

"This does not concern you," Thanatos' low voice held a clear warning.

Slayte frowned. Oh, he was just the same. Pompous assholes, all of them.

"It does," she ground out. "She was my friend before you even knew her name. I was protecting her before you ever showed up in this godforsaken alleyway! So, no. You can't tell me that when you show her death itself, it does not concern me!"

"Silence." His dark voice echoed against the stone walls, sending a chill down her spine. "Even your impudence must mind its limits. You have been warned."

"Impudence?" Her tongue refused to be leashed. She wasn't sure she even wanted it to. At least when he was angry and threatening her, he revealed something of his thoughts. He never did otherwise.

"Impudence." She echoed again, shaking her head. "Impudence is when a deity lays his hands on a mortal, ignorant of the clear divide between them! Ignorant of the fact that while a deity has all of eternity to chase their whims, all a mortal has are a few paltry years! And that's it!"

"I thought you were different. Responsible! Not like…" a few names came to mind but she bit her tongue, and said instead, "... the others."

Emboldened by his silence, and ignorant of the displeasure simmering in those onyx irises, she continued, "You approach her, toy with her mind and feelings. Then leave her in darkness and ignorance. All but ignore her as she nearly dies, time and time again, leaving everything to me. You won't answer me when I reach out to you. You don't care if she's losing her mind and then - what? All of a sudden, you show her your face? All of a sudden, you're - you're …" Slayte groaned in frustration.

"You're writing her poetry and visiting her in her home and… make up your mind!" She shouted, anguished and concerned. "What do you want from her? What are you thinking?!"

Slayte's throat constricted, and her windpipe seemed to be closing in on itself, her lungs seizing as if paralysed and compromised of the ability to inhale oxygen. Her tongue turned to lead, depriving her from speaking any further as Thanatos made good on his threat without so much as lifting a finger.

"Warnings are wasted on one who does not heed them." He angled his head, considering, while she grasped at her throat and gasped desperately for air that would not come.

"My affairs are not your concern." He answered slowly, impassively observing the way her complexion paled, reddened, and then turned sickly blue. His words were unhurried, unperturbed by her apparent anguish.

"A nymph of the underworld should know better than to cast suspicion upon her master's honor."

A moment's silence passed before he released his hold and Slayte collapsed on the cobblestone floor, clutching at her throat and coughing for breath.

When she was finally capable of speech, she turned narrowed, dark-brown eyes on him in a glare. "Well, this brings back memories," she snapped.

Averting her gaze, she sighed, acknowledging she had likely pushed too far, and that there had never truly been a chance of getting a straight answer from him to begin with. Did he even know what he intended with Elissa himself? Her hands clenched into fists. She hated feeling so helpless. Hated that she was at his mercy when it came to her best friend. Hated that she had no choice but to hope that he spoke the truth, and that his intentions were indeed honorable. But even that provided her little solace. Where did his honorable intentions lead? Beneath the surface? There was no good outcome to all of this that she could see.

"You took liberties with her," she hissed in a barely audible whisper, her face aflame from the magnitude of the accusation, from the sheer shamelessness of the words themselves, and her own audacity in speaking them. Her earth-brown eyes were fixed firmly on the stones at his feet, as if they were chained there, not daring to meet his gaze. He did not answer, and his silence served to confirm what she had come to fear. Namely, that although Elissa in no way deemed his action a kiss, he did not seem to share her verdict.

"What can be honorable about that?" She pressed further, trembling, but frustrated by his silence. "Even your honorable intentions can have catastrophic consequences. Our alliance is grounded in a mutual desire to protect her. I don't want to have to protect her from you. Or from herself. What can you hope to give her that won't inevitably have you taking more from her than you will give in return?"

She staggered to her feet and turned to face him. "I may no longer care for you, but I do not fear you. If you wish to kill me," she gestured weakly towards him. "Be my guest."

"But she is my friend. I have to look out for her. Surely, you must know what that means."

He did. He understood the bonds of friendship. He understood also what it meant to be left without a choice in the face of a being more powerful. That was, perhaps, one of the few reasons the mannerless nymph still lived.

"The alliance you speak of does not exist. You are a servant. Bound to my will by the nature of your existence. Your continued disobedience is grounds enough for your execution. Has your time on the surface tampered with your sanity?"

She chuckled bitterly. "Sanity? Which of us is still sane in the midst of all of this? I haven't seen a shred of sanity in the underworld these eight hundred years." She shook her head and sighed, accepting that they had come to an impasse.

Itachi broke the silence, unconcerned with her rambling, as he came to the purpose of his visit. "Relate the incident that occurred in the seas."

Slayte turned towards him, surprised that he was once again interested in an earlier attack, when ones more recent and arguably more concerning remained shrouded in mystery. Trusting his wisdom - in these matters, at least - she bit her lip, recalling the fated day by the ocean.

She retold the story of the attack in as much detail as she could recall, feeling instinctively that this was somehow crucial to the investigation. The way the snapping vines had been focused on dragging Elissa to the depths, while casting herself out of the ocean completely, seeking to separate the two of them. The way the other mortals had gone on enjoying their time at the beachside, completely unaffected. She watched his eyes narrow as he listened quietly and wondered which detail had caught his notice. What had she failed to piece together, that was clicking into place for him with clarity?

When she had finished her account, he stood there in silence, his gaze contemplative as if she had somehow confirmed his suspicions.

"Did that help?" she questioned hesitantly, desperate for answers. "Did you learn something new?"

Thanatos did not answer her, returning her gaze quietly, as if considering some information unknown to her. "Have you learned something new about Lady Nyx's involvement? You're still investigating that front, right? Please, Lord Thanatos, let me know what's going on. Tell me what we're dealing with."

Lend ear to your Nymph.

Lend ear to one so foolish? One so impulsive who could not stay her tongue even if her very life depended upon it? One who did not consider the consequences of any one of her actions? Provoking danger happily until it loomed over her head and then seeking shelter among hapless mortals who would be crushed for no fault other than befriending the ignorant fool of a nymph. Was that the friendship and the love she spoke of? How shortsighted and naive. How pathetic.

Lend ear, indeed. Lending ear did not require him to answer to her incessant questioning. Deciding just that, he turned on his heel, prepared to take his leave.

"Wait!" Slayte raised a hand, realizing one of the few opportunities she had to actually speak with him was slipping through her fingers. Seeing his retreating back, words tumbled out of her mouth. "That incident, a few days past, did you by any chance… heal me?"

Thanatos stopped mid step and turned back, regarding her over his shoulder quietly. She had his attention.

"When the hounds were chasing us, I was badly wounded, but when I awoke, scarcely a scar remained. That wasn't… you, was it? Did you heal me?" She questioned hesitantly, wringing her hands together in confusion.

She had been healed? She was not capable of healing herself, nor had he deigned to assist her. Healing a wayward nymph was the farthest thing from his mother's mind. Shisui had not left his side. The mortal who so ridiculously clung to Slayte was just that - a mortal.

Angelissa…

A creaking sound alerted them to the opening of the metal door of the tea shop, and Slayte whirled around in alarm as Levi stepped out, sharp and perceptive grey eyes scanning the alleyway.

"Oi. Hanging with trash again?" his scathing tone surprised her, and she stepped reflexively between him and the god of death, every thought fleeing her mind as she hastened to both protect and appease him.

"I'll be right in. I just need another moment to…" she trailed off, seeing the angry fire in his steel-grey eyes.

He knew enough, he didn't need his eyes to corroborate his suspicions. Slayte had confirmed that the reaper-asshole had approached her the last time she had been delayed out in this alleyway. Although she had not mentioned as much to Elissa, it was clear that she had been threatened or worse. Her condition when she had finally reentered the tea shop that night, months ago, had revealed no less.

And so, it was with a cold sense of dawning, as if filthy rain water had dripped off of a roof down his back, that he realized it had been upwards of a quarter of an hour that Slayte had disappeared to take out the trash.

Sure enough, tension lined every inch of her form and both fear and determination lingered in her tea-brown eyes. The panic in her eyes faded now, though, her expression quickly softening at the sight of him. He knew her well enough to know what that had to mean. Well enough to understand what he wasn't seeing.

"No, you're coming inside." He pulled her in towards the tea shop and she struggled against his grip, embarrassed.

"Levi, please, I just need to -" She turned back towards Thanatos, only to find that he had disappeared. A fact that likely should not have surprised her.

"I don't care." Levi cut in decisively, pulling her through the doorway and shutting the door behind him. Slayte allowed herself to be led away, realizing that the chance for answers had passed.

Pressing a hand against the cold metal door as if barring whatever lingered beyond, Levi hovered over her, icy wrath still glinting in his steel-grey eyes, only the faintest frown and his slightly narrowed eyes betraying how furious he was. "This is where that asshole threatened you last time, isn't it?" he asked calmly, waiting for her to confirm what he already knew.

"I … never said he threatened me," she denied, dropping her gaze to his feet nervously.

"You've always been a shitty liar." The cold rebuke brought her dark eyes up to his in surprise. "You're supposed to say, 'He never threatened me' if you want me to believe that farce."

He crossed his arms over his chest and released a pent-up breath, glaring at the door they had come through.

"He was out there, wasn't he?" He angled his head towards her, watching her down the length of his nose with harsh, grey eyes. Daring her to lie to him. "Threatening you again?"

"Uh…" Slayte trailed off, recalling how she had flung wild accusations at Thanatos and the tone of voice she had spoken in. She flinched, thinking of how severe a chastisement she would have received in the underworld for such behavior. "It's fine," she reassured him with a hasty smile, laying a gentle hand on his forearm. "I was kind of asking for it."

"Oi." His voice was quiet, dripping with barely restrained possessive fury as he removed her hand from his arm. He hovered over her, his eyes searching hers, only more incensed to find she actually believed that statement. "Don't ever say that again."

She laughed nervously, hoping to somehow dispel his anger. It wouldn't do for him to be angry at Thanatos. It was suicidal. Foolishness to the highest degree. "It's true, though. I overstepped. It's okay, he wouldn't seriously hurt me," she lied readily, trying to convince herself it was true.

"Oi." The sharpness of the retort as it rumbled from his chest in a low voice had her biting her lip as she instantly fell silent. "You're a pain in the ass. You never think before opening that mouth of yours. You don't know your limits."

Slayte blinked at him, wondering why he was so upset when she had only stated the same.

"... and if anyone other than me says that to you, I'll cut their tongue out."

She was at a loss for words. Had she, somehow, inadvertently led Levi into seeing Thanatos as an enemy? She could not imagine a worse outcome. "Levi, he isn't -"

Her attempt at a reassurance was cut short when Levi drew away from her, not wanting to hear her excuses, or her defense of the individual who had caused most of the pain in her life.

"You're not taking the trash out anymore." He didn't so much as turn back as he spoke, making his way into the kitchen, to the paperwork he had spread out on the counter, his lips drawn into a scowl as he refused to so much as look at her.

She could only gape after him, his words hanging in the air between them as she realized that she needed to amend this situation and had no time to waste in doing so. Thanatos might barely tolerate her repeated impertinence but, as she realized with a sinking feeling, she couldn't be sure the same would hold true for Levi. She could not allow him to antagonize Thanatos.

No - she realized with dread as she watched Levi sift through the paperwork - she could not allow for the two of them to meet at all.


Suigetsu had been minding his own affairs contentedly beneath the ocean when the telepathic call to the shoreline reached him. Irked to be disturbed in the midst of his peace and duties, he had initially deigned to ignore the summons. But the call was persistent, unyielding. As soon as his visitor made their identity apparent, the King of the Seas navigated through the waves and surfaced upon his water-stallion near a forest densely packed with evergreen trees.

Thanatos of the Uchiha stood upon a cluster of large boulders, the ends of his long hair and dark cloak tossed about in the fresh ocean breeze. He was not, Suigetsu had judiciously decided, a calibre of god one went around willingly or carelessly slighting.

"You again?" Suigetsu's luminous amethyst eyes narrowed.

"Lord Poseidon," the masked death deity greeted courteously.

Suigetsu regarded him with open distrust. "Just because I entertained an audience with you last time, doesn't mean you get to call on me whenever you want. I'm a king. I have shit to do."

"Lord Poseidon is gracious, indeed, to answer my request," Itachi murmured, his heavy-lashed gaze lowered deferentially.

"Hmph." Suigetsu's lips curled into a derisive sneer. "Smooth-talker, aren't ya? The hell is your rank in the Underworld anyway, Cronus's official surface ambassador? Just because you're an Uchiha with manners, doesn't mean I wanna schedule regular chats in. You have all the liberty to do your gloomy soul-sucking shit wherever ships capsize, so what do you want, now?"

Itachi's eyes lifted, lashes sweeping upward, the waning light of sunset glinting off of the gold of his mask. Suigetsu folded his arms atop his steed impatiently as he waited for a response, having no desire to converse any more than was absolutely necessary with an Underworld dweller.

"Your command of the oceans is absolute, is it not?" Itachi queried, meeting the sea deity's gaze steadily, directly.

Suigetsu snorted. "You didn't come all this way to ask me that," he retorted snarkily.

"Every living creature beneath the waves answers to you. Does it not?" Itachi continued, undeterred.

"Obviously," Suigetsu rolled his eyes, failing to see why they were discussing something so obvious. "What's your point?"

"Nothing occurs without you being informed." Itachi added.

The ocean king smirked mockingly. "Aren't you meant to be one of the smartest Uchiha? I know you're younger than most, but I doubt you need help understanding what 'King of the Oceans' means, Thanatos." Narrowing his eyes suspiciously once more, he snapped, "Now hurry up and tell me why you're really here, or I'm leaving."

"Of course," Itachi murmured. "It begs to question… how a snapping vine can ensnare a human without your knowledge. That it could possess the intelligence required to purposefully hinder the attempts of a shadow nymph in retrieving a mortal from the ocean. A persistence only a command would compel."

Suigetsu blinked. "Huh?" He began. "What're you-?" Inhaling sharply, he caught onto his mistake, far too late. The water around him was turning black, weeping inky shadows, which wrapped around his whinnying stallion and soon swallowed it whole, causing it to dematerialise entirely.

Damn it! Suigetsu's eyes widened in alarm. Itachi had flickered out of sight before him. He caught his breath, immediately sensing an ominous, dreadful presence behind him and spun to find the death deity had reappeared, melting out of the impossible blackness that now surrounded them. There was no sun, no sky, no shoreline. Everything had succumbed to darkness.

Before he could even comprehend what was happening, freezing tendrils of shadow were wrapping around Suigetu's arms, trapping them against his sides. The sea-god immediately summoned a wall of water to break free, only to watch in horror as the waves themselves dissolved into black smoke, evaporating into harmless nothingness before his very eyes.

An illusion? When had Thanatos even cast it? Suigetsu realised in a moment of awful clarity that he had made a terrible error in judgement in assuming the Uchiha prince's quiet nature and respectful politeness meant that he bore no ill-will and posed no threat to Suigetsu. Within seconds, however, he had turned the ocean god's own turf against him by trapping him in a ruthless genjutsu.

To use the Sharingan in an act of aggression against a non-Uchiha deity was comparable to a declaration of war. Suigetsu was stunned. What reason had the quietly-spoken God of Death to attack him in such a cut-throat manner? He desperately tried to break out of the illusion, only to be overwhelmed and buried under further, smothering layers of it. For the first time, he felt a whisper of fear in his veins as he lifted his eyes to a perfectly composed Thanatos, who stood before him, unarmed, his eyes glowing fiery crimson behind the barrier of his mask.

He required no weapon, Suigetsu dimly registered. His eyes were capable enough of ensnaring and incapacitating anything foolish or unfortunate enough to become entangled in that piercing, ruthless gaze.

Suigetsu's arms felt like dead-weights, motionless by his sides, uselessly locked in place. His legs, too, had turned to blocks of ice and a stabbing pain was assaulting his skull. He was powerless to prevent the black ropes of shadow from curling upwards and winding around his neck.

"You come to my shoreline and attack me on my own terrain?" He exclaimed furiously, glaring at the stoic God of Death. "Was this Cronus's order? I'll make damn sure Zeus hears about this and you'll-" he broke off, choking as the tendrils around his neck constricted tightly, cutting off his ability to talk entirely. Thanatos was commanding them without lifting a finger.

"Tsukuyomi," Itachi uttered calmly, his deep voice echoing about the void. The mangekyou pinwheels of his Sharingan spun hypnotically in his eyes, boring into Suigetsu's skull with an intensity of a thousand stabbing, burning needles. They were terrible eyes, the ocean deity discerned, capable of breaking minds completely.

"A world of my making, where the flow of time answers to my will. A few seconds will pass as days. Minutes will bleed into years. How long you remain trapped within it, depends upon you."

Suigetsu clenched his teeth in frustration, feeling his brow bead with cold sweat from the concentrated effort of attempting to dispel the genjutsu. He knew that beyond the confines of the illusion, he was still safely on his steed, hovering over the ocean waves and yet nothing of the real world remained around him but pitch-blackness. A darkness that Thanatos seemed to wear like second skin.

The ocean monarch struggled to free his mind from the mental shackles that had entrapped it. Alarm coursed through his veins, setting his heart pounding. He knew how to break through genjutsu. Why, then, could he not command his element or subjects to assist him? The more he struggled, the more his mind throbbed and felt burdened, the more his body was plagued with exhaustion.

Every Sharingan was reputedly known for its specialised set of skills and abilities. It was one of the many reasons why the ocular gifts of the Uchiha were so renowned and feared. Suigetsu realised, with a sinking feeling, that the casting of unnaturally powerful and realistic illusions had to be Thanatos's forte - something he would not soon forget. He could not even perceive what was tangible and concrete and what wasn't in that moment. The boundaries had blurred, become indistinguishable. The shadows wrapping around him like icy, jagged cords of rope felt frighteningly real.

"It is futile," Itachi informed him, "to resist."

When the tendrils around his neck loosened marginally to allow him to speak, Suigetsu snarled, "What the fuck's your problem? What do you want?!"

The death deity prowled unhurriedly toward him. It had been a very long time since Suigetsu recalled ever being at such a distinct disadvantage, where his own element and powers were rendered useless. He tried to disperse his body into water, to escape from the confines that locked him in position, but those awful eyes pinned him in place, made even lifting a finger an impossibility.

"You interfered," the words were insidiously spoken, and Suigetsu could clearly detect the displeasure underlying the statement.

"What?" he ground out. "I didn't do any- shit!" he cursed, when a freezing, biting pain attacked his skull, causing him to wince in discomfort.

"Cease," Itachi replied forebodingly. "These eyes see through your lies." Drawing closer, he lifted his right hand, and with a nonchalant flick of his wrist, a blade of shadow formed in his palm. "You intended to terminate a mortal life before its time ordained. You hastened to quicken its end. I suffer no such interference on my domain, Lord Poseidon."

"What… the fuck?" Suigetsu growled. "I don't know what you're-" he abruptly broke off, recalling their previous encounter. When Thanatos had questioned him about the mortal girl that had been dragged beneath the ocean waves. His breath caught in his throat. The human Vetty had forged a blood-pact with, the very one he had saved on a whim, was the reason why Thanatos had returned to torture him?

"That- that dumb little human wench from before?" Suigetsu struggled to answer. "I already said, those snapping vines were-"

Itachi blinked at the incivility of the term of address. Without warning or any change in the aloofness of his expression, he mercilessly stabbed the shadow blade he held in his hand straight through the ocean deity's midsection. Suigetsu bit his tongue to stop the cry of pain from flying from his lips. It was as though he had been impaled by freezing volts of electricity that frazzled every nerve ending within his body, sending wave upon wave of pulsing agony through him.

"Your subjects," Itachi pointed out.

"F-fuck-!" Suigetsu hissed, his mind scrambling for an explanation.

"I told you," Itachi murmured, as if reading his very thoughts, lifting his hand to summon another blade into existence. "To cease your lies."

His movements were unhurried. As if he possessed all the time and patience in the world.

"F-fine!" Suigetsu snarled. "Fine, I did know about it! But if you think I'm gonna answer to a damned Uchiha I don't tru- gaah!" His body convulsed as another shadow blade was skewered savagely into his gut. Panting heavily, Suigetsu frantically told himself none of it was real. That it was all in his head. But when he looked down, he could see blood oozing onto his teal-hued tunic and it was difficult to convince his mind otherwise.

"Why make an attempt on an innocent mortal life?" Itachi's voice was cold. Unforgiving. "Speak."

Suigetsu's thoughts raced. Ever a deity who looked out for his own best interests, he recognised that he really only had two options. The first, was to remain silent and refuse to answer, and endure countless minutes or hours or even days of agonising torment as a result. It was as clear as daylight to him that Thanatos would not relent in his questioning and would not release him from the torturous prison of illusion he had cast upon his mind until he received an explanation he deemed as satisfactory.

The second was to reveal what he knew of the truth, which meant trusting what he did know to an Uchiha. But what if word reached Cronus? How would that impact his own oceans and its denizens? And yet, had Thanatos not declared that he was here because of an interference upon his specific deity function? Had Cronus sent him, then he would not have uttered such a thing, surely?

"What's it to you?" Suigetsu glared, as another dark blade rippled into being in the death god's palm. "You're really attacking me over one lousy mortal soul? It's not like she died! Why is one life such a big deal to someone who tears shitloads of souls out their bodies daily?"

Itachi drew his hand back, ready to stab him once again, this time through the chest, when Suigetsu yelled, "Alright! Fine! I'll tell you! But get these fucking shadows off me!"

The death deity paused, but did not release him.

"Speak," he instructed again.

Suigetsu gritted his teeth, overcome with a violent wave of nausea. Had he really thought this Uchiha courteous at one point? Thanatos was every bit as unpleasant as any other Underworld dweller the ocean deity had ever had the displeasure of encountering. He was simply better at hiding it behind an exceptionally difficult to read, masked countenance, an unruffled, calm facade beneath which simmered the same ruthlessness and callousness that was a trademark Uchiha trait.

When he did not immediately respond, Itachi lifted his hand and forged seven shadow blades in the air which hovered threateningly around Suigetsu, ready to pierce through his body at their master's command.

Registering that he was truly out of options, and that the only way to save himself from his formidable, pitiless opponent was to divulge the truth, the sea deity finally relented.

"You… think she's just some ordinary girl?" he breathed heavily, the strain upon his fatigued mind increasing the longer the illusion continued. "She's not! I couldn't risk having her taken by the wrong people. And since Vetty's plan to keep her safe wasn't working… I took matters into my own hands. Okay, it was shitty to attack a mortal, but I was only looking out for my own kingdom. That's what I do. That's what I've always done!"

Itachi's hand remained raised, his punishing crimson eyes narrowing menacingly behind his mask. Knowing the slightest movement of that wrist would result in seven dark swords impaling his body from all directions, Suigetsu rushed on, "Vetty's spent thousands of years seeking out this special child of prophecy or whatever."

To his immense relief, Itachi's hand lowered, and the shadow cords biting into his neck relinquished their asphyxiating grip, seeping away, though his arms remained bound. Suigetsu inhaled deeply, gulping air into his lungs, able to breathe unhindered once more.

Itachi waited expectantly, his gaze steady, unwavering.

"I-I seriously don't know what this damn prophecy is about, okay?!" Suigetsu exclaimed, unnerved by how intently he was being regarded. "All I know is this chosen kid is special and if the wrong person gets their hands on her, things will go to shit. Something about fate, some calling. I don't know anything more than that."

"So you thought it prudent to make an attempt on her life?" Itachi's eyes glittered with icy displeasure, his chilling tone indicating that the ocean king's judgement had been anything but well-thought out.

"Okay, okay!" Suigetsu rolled his eyes. "I admit it was probably hasty and not fair to the girl, but it was nothing personal. Like I said, I was just looking out for my Kingdom. I didn't realise it would involve stepping on your toes, so cut me some slack. I backed off when I realised you were watching over her anyway."

There was a tense pause, in which those unsettling crimson eyes continued to bore into Suigetsu, causing his entire skin to crawl with a dread that was wholly unfamiliar to him. It was the first and only time, he told himself, that he would ever make the mistake of underestimating Prince Thanatos of the Uchiha.

"On whose instruction does the feline search?" Itachi next questioned shortly.

"I don't know that." Suigetsu shook his head in earnest. "Vetty's always been annoyingly tight lipped about it. But I figured this girl has to be the chosen child, because why the hell else would Vetty bother initiating a permanent blood-bond with a mortal and tie their life-forces together?"

Itachi was silent, his lips pressing together to form a grim line as he considered Suigetsu's words. Angelissa? A child of prophecy? One who supposedly held some manner of power or influence not ordinarily found in humans? Was it possible? His mind raced, piecing together what he already knew as fact with the new information he had received. He recalled the man Angelissa had inadvertently killed. The force of the trauma to his head, inconsistent with any injury that might have been sustained from the efforts of an unarmed girl of her delicate stature, so categorically untrained in the art of combat.

He recalled the nymph who had asked him whether he had assisted in accelerating her healing following the attacks that had transpired close to Angelissa's home. Itachi had not done so. Since the nymph had clearly not healed herself, that left only two other potential assists; from either the mortal man Itachi had spied with Slayte, or from Angelissa herself.

Angelissa had also mentioned the deer's miraculous healing. A deer she had approached alone to assist. Hounds that had retreated as abruptly as they had arrived. There had seemingly been no other interference there, either.

He then remembered Atropos's odd choice of counsel. To keep Angelissa close by his side and a stillness befell him when everything suddenly fell into place with alarming, resounding clarity in his mind.

The mortal's entanglement with all things supernatural, that were not intended for her eyes before the hour of her death could no longer be assigned to mere coincidence if this revelation indeed held true. If she really was one chosen by The Fates to belong to some manner of ancient prophecy, then that explained why she was being targeted. Why someone powerful would want to acquire her.

Perhaps his repeated and continuous crossing of paths with Angelissa before her death was a thing ordained in itself. Perhaps her acceptance of his identity was. Perhaps that explained why all his attempts to restore her to a mortal life had proven fruitless, futile.

The matter was considerably more serious and significant than Itachi had initially anticipated. If a prophecy was involved, one that Vetty was clearly aware of - then did it stand to reason that his own mother was sensible to it, also? He recalled her joyous smile just before he had departed her last, several surface days prior, when he had instructed her to leave matters in his hands. Why had she been so delighted? What, precisely, was Nyx's involvement in all this, and had she had any other hand in Angelissa's suffering?

Itachi's expression darkened at the thought.

The shadow blades circling Suigetsu diminished. The death deity was silent, weighing the implications and what the possibility of Angelissa being a child of prophecy could mean.

"That brat's never done it with any of the others before," Suigetsu was going on.

"Others…?" Itachi's eyes locked back onto him intently.

"Yeah. That's another thing," Suigetsu was relieved when his arms were finally released from their binds. Rolling his shoulders and scowling sourly, he went on, "Something that brought this whole thing to my attention to begin with. But you'll have to follow me underwater if you want to see."

Itachi's eyes narrowed. Wordlessly, he lifted his hands, and formed rapid seals, summoning into being a temporary clone of himself.

Hmph. He's definitely smart, Suigetsu begrudgingly admitted to himself. The illusion around them finally dissipated, blending away to wisps of shadow that evaporated into thin air. The ocean deity blinked, finding himself on his steed once more, feeling oddly displaced. His entire body was exhausted, the taxing mental strain of the brutal genjutsu ability taking its toll on his mind. Somehow he was certain that he had been let off the hook lightly. Had Itachi wished it, Suigetsu supposed his mind could have been fractured and scarred significantly more extensively - and permanently.

"I need to know you're not here because Cronus sent you," Suigetsu lifted his chin, glowering with open chagrin at the death deity.

"I am not," Itachi answered simply.

"Tch." Suigetsu sniffed. "Fine." He lifted a hand and summoned a swirling vortex of water which rippled into being in the air before the rocks Itachi stood upon. His pride had been wounded - but Suigetsu was no fool. Instinct told him that even entertaining the idea of retaliating and attacking Thanatos would end extremely badly for him. Here was an intimidating, sharp-witted and highly perceptive deity who was not to be tested or trifled with. "That vortex will take you to the place. I'll be there."

Itachi sent his clone through it, remaining safely behind by the shore as he extended his consciousness through his duplicate.

As he stepped out on the other side of the portal, he found himself standing at the very bottom of the deep sea bed. His feet sank into the murky sand, and as he turned, his eyes fell upon a most gruesome scene that made even his blood run cold.

"Here they are," Suigetsu, who had materialised on his steed behind him, nodded seriously. "I don't know where the hell they come from. They just show up, and they keep increasing in number. It looks like a gorgon got to them, but those aren't exactly free-roaming on the surface anymore, and I really don't appreciate my ocean floor being littered with these freaky things. Not exactly my kinda decor."

A heaviness befell Itachi's chest as unpleasant realisation slammed into him, arresting the very air in his lungs at the barbaric sight of the countless bodies surrounding them, each one encased in impenetrable stone. It was a graveyard of rocky corpses, he acknowledged grimly, his gaze darting from figure to figure in stunned disbelief.

They were all young women, he registered with a start, of varying ages, shapes and sizes. Many had their hands lifted to their faces, some were bent over, some clutched their heads as if weeping. Their horrified faces were all contorted in agony, pain and unmistakable fear, all mirroring the same distressed expressions they had worn in their final moments just before their encasement in stone.

Itachi heard the thud of his heart-beat pounding dully in his ears. They were not dead. And yet, they did not live. Their souls were instead in an unnatural state of limbo. Souls he had not claimed. The burden of responsibility, of failure struck him like a lightning bolt. Hundreds and hundreds of mortals that had somehow slipped under his radar. Unfortunate humans denied their right to an afterlife, denied judgement and denied their final resting places. A direct infringement, disregard and disrespect to Itachi and his function, of his absolute dominion over death itself.

"Someone's pissing on my domain, too." Suigetsu remarked, folding his arms in irritation. "So you see? I want answers just as much as you do."

Itachi blinked as he walked between the bodies, inspecting them, consigning them to his memory. They were countless in number, stretching out farther than the eye could see. Only a gorgon harpy or Medusa had the ability to entrap mortals into stone in such a way, and such creatures had long since been removed from the surface by Zeus. Yet somehow, someone cunning and resourceful enough had found a way to harvest the powers of paralysis and to use them to consign mortals to an existence of eternal suffering, entombed deep within the ocean-bed where they had clearly intended for the bodies to never be found. To remain concealed from his eyes and knowledge, in the only realm Itachi did not pass directly through.

The realisation that this heinous crime had escaped his attention for so long - and how it possibly could have eluded his notice - he, who always ensured his eyes missed no small detail - left him incensed beyond measure. Whoever was accountable for the forbidden offences had clearly gone through meticulous planning to ensure the trail was buried and Itachi had no way of telling just how long it had been hidden from his gaze.

It was a great insult to him. A violation and transgression of the most grievous kind, against not only him, but against mortals and the will of The Fates themselves.

A chilling thought then presented itself to him. Had this been the fate awaiting Angelissa, too? Had Vetty not formed the pact of blood with her, would she have undoubtedly ended up precisely the same as the ghostly, lifeless faces around him, forever trapped in a prison of eternal paralysis, from which her soul would never be able to find rest?

He drew to a stop. Though his expression remained indecipherable, cold fury exploded within him, the likes of which one as mild in temperament as Itachi usually was, rarely experienced. But at that moment, it was unrelenting, all-encompassing, roaring through him like a rip-tide. So much so that even Suigetsu sensed the malevolent killing intent of his deadly aura and wisely chose to remain silent.

Who dared to tamper with the cycle of life in such a forbidden manner? Who dared to meddle with Death? Whoever it was, was surely the same person who threatened Angelissa's welfare. Itachi silently vowed that he would leave no rock unturned until he hunted down the culprit. And when he discovered who it was, he would show them no mercy. There would be hell to pay, indeed.

"I thank you for your time, Lord Poseidon," Itachi spoke quietly. His crimson eyes were hard, unforgiving, a fire burning within them that clearly denoted his intense displeasure. "And your cooperation." Then, he surprised Suigetsu by adding, "Zeus will be informed."

"What the hell?" Suigetsu scowled incredulously at him. "You mean Cronus really didn't send you? What the hell was with all that illusion crap, then?!"

Onyx eyes flicked briefly onto him, unfathomable in the thoughts that hid veiled behind them. The only response he received was of Itachi's clone dispersing into shadow under water a moment later as he vanished entirely from sight.


Elissa released a heavy, tired sigh as she filled in the work experience section of yet another, criminally long application form. She'd spent the last few hours since returning home from the tea shop tidying up her apartment and had then settled down on the rug in front of the glass coffee table in her living room, trawling through mind-numbing pages of job vacancy postings.

Her thoughts were overrun, and she'd desperately needed to do something to distract herself from dwelling on all the supernatural insanity that had unfolded over the course of the previous week. Trying to write her story again however, had only served to remind her of Thanatos and all the Greek gods that she now categorically knew truly did exist, and so she had quickly closed that document and opened up her web browser to commence her job search again. She needed to focus, to feel like she was doing something useful with her time, or risk losing her mind from ruminating over all the uncertainties that plagued her. She couldn't influence the supernatural. Mundane matters like regular adulting chores, however, though thoroughly unexciting, were within her control.

Although she was eager to start, Elissa knew that working with Levi and Slayte was only a short-term fix. She didn't want them to split their income for any longer than was necessary on her. She switched to another browser tab, quickly checking the progress of some recent orders she'd made online, smiling in satisfaction as she saw that they'd already been dispatched. She only had about ten days left until winter vacation and Elissa planned to spoil her two best friends this year with extra considerate gifts before Gabriel came to pick her up and take her back to her hometown over the break.

She returned to the application form. Job hunting was an arduous, boring task. Elissa had little trouble typing up pages of fantasy novel content, but when it came to personal statements, her mind struggled with the tediousness of gushing over all her skills, work experience and accomplishments.

"Ugh," she groaned, reading the required information for the next field she had to fill in on the form. Rubbing her temples, she asked Vetty, who was curled up on the sofa behind her, "Reason for leaving my last job. Do you think it'd affect my chances if I write: 'My boss was a dick'?"

Vetty didn't even glance up as she licked nonchalantly at her right paw. Elissa sighed again as she filled out the text, settling on a more acceptable and polite: 'To further my career aspirations'.

"Hey, Vetty," she piped up a moment later, as a sudden, ridiculous thought then crossed her mind. "Can gods hypnotise humans into hiring people?" She turned her head to regard her cat, whose dark eyes lifted, settling onto her with cool disinterest.

Elissa wondered what Vetty truly thought of her. It was difficult to tell, when the feline stubbornly refused to communicate at all. She'd only spoken once, and only in reference to Slayte. Regardless, Elissa told herself she wouldn't give up trying to draw her into speech. She held onto the hope that someday, Vetty would eventually indulge her and they would be able to hold a real conversation at last.

"Maybe Itachi could help me get a job," she mused, looking back toward the television, at where she'd left a sitcom playing on low volume in the background. Taking a sip of her hot chocolate, she added, "Maybe he could use those eyes of his to… I don't know? Influence some CEO of a major publishing company to give me a big break?"

A short giggle escaped her lips at the idea and she rested her chin in her hand, her thoughts turning back to the enigmatic deity despite herself, recalling the hauntingly beautiful, crimson irises he had revealed to her on the night she'd learned his true identity, almost a week earlier.

"Do you think if I asked him, he would…?" she wondered distractedly, missing the way Vetty blinked at her. The image of Itachi's heavy-lashed, captivating dark eyes drifted through her mind and for a minute, she was silent, falling into a reverie as she found herself wondering exactly what that piercing gaze was capable of compelling people to do. What manner of illusions did he specialise in? Catching herself, she frowned in disapproval at his invading her thoughts yet again, shook her head, and forced herself to work on completing the remainder of the form.

When she was finally done, Elissa glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was almost 9PM. Stifling a yawn, she lifted her hands over her head and stretched, the sleeves of her maroon, satin robe slipping down her slender arms.

Closing the laptop, she announced, "Okay, that's enough boredom for one evening."

Extending her legs, she wiggled her feet in their cosy slipper socks, before running her fingers through her loose, wavy tresses. She watched the scene unfolding on the television screen blankly for a moment, before turning her face toward the balcony doors as Vetty hopped nimbly down onto her lap, demanding instant affection.

"Oh, so that's how it is?" Elissa raised a sardonic eyebrow at the cat's spoiled antics. "You spend all evening ignoring me, then want pets on demand?" She scratched the soft fur between Vetty's ears gently. "You really are a bratty cat, you know that?"

Vetty purred in contentment. Elissa regarded her for a long moment, before her eyes shifted back to the balcony.

He wouldn't appear tonight, she knew with certainty. Not when he'd stopped by just the previous one to check on her. And that was surely the only reason he had alighted outside - to simply ensure her well-being following the shocking reveal of his identity. He was a god. He had far more significant, far more important things to do, than idle around her apartment.

Important things like reaping souls from dying bodies.

The thought was sombering. Chilling. Elissa suppressed a shudder, reminding herself that Itachi was bound by duty to The Fates to end lives. It wasn't as though he had willingly selected the role out of enthusiasm for it, or because he revelled in the misery, terror, sorrow and grimness of it all. She had never met anyone more gentle in manner. She imagined from his solemn disposition that he couldn't enjoy it in the slightest.

Would he answer, she wondered, if she asked him about how he had become Death incarnate? Or would that be considered discourteous of her? She wished there was a guide book detailing how one went about interacting with a god. What questions constituted as acceptable, and what was considered blasphemy?

With another tired sigh, she finished off her hot drink, gave Vetty one last affectionate back scratch, before rising to her feet. Securing the belt around her robe, she walked toward the locked balcony doors, intending to draw the curtains for the night.

She hesitated, her fingers lingering on the soft fabric of the curtains as her hazel eyes scanned the shadows of the night sky. There was a feeling in the air. One she could not quite place but had grown somehow familiar. A feeling that settled on her skin like powdery snow, that set the hairs on the nape of her neck standing upright. A feeling that invited her to fall, promising to catch her. One that prompted a sigh from the depths of her soul before it slipped from her lips. A feeling both oppressive and comforting. Warm and chilling. The feeling that he was nearby.

Was she imagining it?

Logically, she knew it was unlikely. He had been there only yesterday. He was busy. Telling herself it was her own desire to see him that was playing tricks on her mind, she gripped the curtains more firmly, determined to pull them closed, but hesitated once more.

Peering into the darkness, she pressed a hand to the cool glass, eyes focusing on the shadows in the distance. Was he perched there, in the trees just beyond the balcony?

She gasped when suddenly, before her very eyes, a figure materialised out of the shadows - right in front of her. She found herself looking up into Itachi's somber, ebony eyes as they returned her gaze. Had he appeared to visit her? Or had he been hidden among the shadows the entire time, only revealing himself because he had seen her searching for him?

He lifted a hand slowly, as one might when seeking not to frighten a small animal, and she watched the long, regal fingers - a pianist's hands, she thought numbly - press up against the opposite side of the door. His fingertips pressed against her own, with nothing but a sheet of cool glass between them. The warmth of his fingers melted through the thin sheet of frost on his side and she was spurred to action by the realization that he was standing in the cold.

Embarrassed that it was taking her this long to react appropriately, she reached for the handle of the balcony door with her opposite hand, only to freeze in place when, before she could make sense of it, the frigid glass beneath her fingertips was replaced with soft, yielding warmth.

She turned back and could only look on in awe, as she saw Itachi's fingertips slip through the glass, meeting hers directly now. His touch was gentle, kind, soft… but there was an undeniable hunger to it, even as he ever so slowly interspersed his fingers through hers, causing her heart to barrel riotously in her chest, overwhelmed by his faintest of touches. She turned confused hazel eyes on to his face, and watched him angle his head slightly, observing their intertwined hands with an indecipherable expression before he finally closed his fingers around hers, grasping her hand firmly in his, as he stepped through the glass door entirely, joining her in the living room.

He had not intended to visit her at all this day. It was an ill-advised risk, what with Cronus questioning his whereabouts, and the distinct knowledge that a second delay on the surface so soon after the first would not escape his notice. And yet, when he had seen what had become of the others… The candidates that had decidedly not been the prophesied chosen one, combined with the knowledge that that had very nearly been Angelissa's fate as well. That she would have been torn away from his eyes entirely, not meeting even in death. That she, too, would have been captured on the ocean floor, rosy lips parted in petrified horror for eternity. Eyes agape in agony. That such an end should have very nearly been her fate had their paths not crossed by some twist in fate, left him with no choice but to see her. To reassure himself that she lived, as soft and warm and pliant as ever.

He had merely intended to observe her a few moments from the cover of shadow, to satisfy his own disquiet with a glimpse of her. He had not in any way expected her to be attuned to his presence, to recognize him though her eyes could not see him. How was that even possible? It was yet another mystery to ponder upon during his long nights on the surface. In her presence, such riddles were becoming increasingly, disturbingly, commonplace.

Elissa's heart seemed to be caught in her throat, where it was pounding so wildly, she could feel the blood rush to her head. She recalled her own, similar action, lacing her fingers through his at a time when she had been so miserably foolish, so ignorant of the truth of his station, his role, and his lofty position that she had demanded some form of reciprocation. Had dared touch him so familiarly. She would never allow herself such a thing now and yet, here he was, returning the very same gesture when she was entirely ill-prepared to receive it. Her mind spun from the implications and her fingers hung loosely in his firm hold, not trusting herself to squeeze back, wishing he would calm her body down in the way he often chose to, as she felt herself wither under his intense gaze.

Quell your nature, this desire…

Elissa's throat went dry, her eyes transfixed on their intertwined fingers. The cold metal of his rings, the warmth of his skin against hers, the electrifying contrast between the two.

to hold it in your hand.

The words of the poem Slayte had translated to her rang unhelpfully, deafeningly in her ears.

It's you, Elissa. You're the flower he's telling himself to leave well enough alone.

Impossible. It couldn't be true.

And yet, the memory of his words, the all too brief, lingering touches, the intensity of his gaze on her... and the feel of his lips brushing ever so faintly, ever so briefly against hers tingled on her lips as a cruel reminder and her mind refused to accept the logical, rational conclusions she thought she had set in stone.

She needed to put an end to this madness, because if she dared to get her hopes up - a most idiotic lapse in judgment, even for her - she knew she would not cope well with the aftermath when those hopes came crashing down around her. He was a god. A prince. He was a thousand things unreachable, unattainable. Even if he were within reach - and he was decidedly not - was that something she could handle? With a literal deity? With death?

Taking home danger. Flirting with death?

She was sure a flame had consumed her face from the heat that radiated from her skin as she recalled his words, spoken so long ago. Unable to bear the proximity and her traitorous thoughts any longer, she opened her mouth - a mistake, she knew, the minute her lips parted. When had she ever been coherent in his presence?

"Itachi. I wasn't expecting you." She all but stammered, gently detaching her hand from his and turning away from him to better school her features into any expression that would not betray the overwhelming effect he had on her.

"You were right, that lock really is no problem for you. But it's good to see you. Would you like a drink?" She rambled on as she led the way to the kitchen, fearful that the tense atmosphere would smother her the minute she fell silent.

She did not get further than a few steps when she froze in place, feeling the brush of his fingers graze past her hip as he stepped up behind her, his arms closing slowly around her waist, his movements tantalizingly measured, unhurried, giving her every opportunity to stop him, to push him away, to leave.

She stayed where she was, her heart thudding painfully against her ribcage, confused, stunned and disoriented. Her mind reeled, trying to make sense of what was happening, trying to remind herself of who and what she was. You're a no one. You mean nothing to him. He's a god and you're nothing. Don't get your hopes up. Don't misunderstand. Don't be stupid!

But her mantras faded unhelpfully into oblivion, all thoughts scattering to the wind when his hands finally met, drawing her in, her back pressed flush against his chest, her head resting against his collarbones. His warmth seemed to seep into her, lulling her into a sense of security as his familiar scent closed in around her, woodsmoke, pine, and something else - dark and forbidden and uniquely Itachi. She was scared to move, scared to breathe; he was so close, and it was with a mixture of horror and awe that she realized the thudding heartbeat she felt against her back - was his.

She could do nothing but stare speechlessly at the ground in front of her, trying to process, to make sense of his unexpected actions.

He did not speak, holding her close instead, as if she would fall to pieces the moment he relinquished his hold, but not so tightly that she would feel obliged to remain in his embrace.

At long last, he broke the silence, and the hum of his voice, the low rumble she felt clearly against her back, sent an inexplicable shiver down her spine.

"I linger but momentarily, Angelissa." The quiet murmur scarcely broke the hush in the room, settling with all the grace of nightfall itself. "I must return," he hesitated uncharacteristically. "But I thank you for your hospitality."

She opened her mouth, struggled to articulate anything for a few awful seconds, shock still rooting her rigidly in place, her head feeling giddy, her lungs breathless. She wanted, so desperately, to lower her guard. To melt back into him, to accept the warm comfort of his enduring, unwavering strength.

"What…" she finally managed, her tongue woolen and heavy as if it were protesting against the words she wanted it to speak. "What am I to you?" She swallowed thickly, nervously, caught in his embrace as surely as she was caught on the precipice between their two worlds.

Her heart pounded as the question hung heavily in the air. She couldn't stand it anymore. The confusion was driving her to despair, driving her out her mind. She had to know. Slayte could not possibly be right.

"What do you want from me...?" The hushed whisper fell from her lips, as if she were too afraid to verbalise it at all.

The very idea that there could be anything at all, that he - noble, prince-god of the underworld - would want from her, remarkable only in how utterly unremarkable she was, was preposterous and yet, she needed to hear it from his lips. Needed him to shut her down completely, just once, because she was clearly failing in doing so herself. Just once would surely be enough, she told herself, to banish the delusional, foolish and inappropriate thoughts that would not stop tormenting her.

The long silence that followed was fragile, like paper-thin ice. When she despaired of receiving an answer at all, she found the courage to turn around, and as soon as she moved, his arms fell away. Elissa could not fathom why she felt their absence so acutely, so immediately.

With trembling hands, she hesitantly reached up for his mask, hoping to read in his eyes the answers she would not receive from those unyielding lips.

Her fingers closed around the gilded accessory and for once, he did not stop her. When she drew the mask away from his face, revealing the unconcealed beauty of his features and the undeniable reminder of what he was, sorrow swamped her being. Those heavy-lashed onyx eyes she so admired and respected, were fixed on her with a longing buried so surely under restraint, she could not understand exactly what she was seeing and yet it suddenly dawned upon her, as clear as day, leaving her stunned anew. One thing she did know with certainty - that she was not nothing to him.

It was a terrifying notion. Her lips parted, but her tongue would form no more words, her mind flung into turmoil.

Slowly, as if to reassure her, he lifted a hand to tuck loose strands of chestnut hair behind her ear. The movement was so self-assured, with a sense of familiarity as if the two of them were so much more than they were. As if this moment did not entirely defy the very nature of their relationship that they had somehow puzzled together from the shards of what remained after all the conflict and confusion.

"What I desire from you, Angelissa…" he answered, his voice quiet and steady. "Is for you to receive all that you desire."

His hand lingered at the shell of her ear a moment longer before he finally drew back.

"Whatever that may be."

Her erratic pulse would be the death of her, if her failing lungs did not get her first. She looked on helplessly. For all her bold questioning, and despite the generous answer he had provided her with, her hazel eyes swam with a thousand further questions her lips refused to oblige.

"Forgive my intrusion."

The words were spoken softly as he stepped away from her, and knowing it was Itachi who said them, she understood that he meant so much more than a midnight visit. He was asking forgiveness for the way he had touched her, for any discomfort he might have caused her, for overstepping whatever boundaries there were between them, for breaking the divide between the mortal realm and the supernatural in her life. Asking forgiveness for every intrusion, in any way, shape, or form.

Words failed her as he disappeared before her very eyes, as suddenly as he had appeared. The very mask clutched in her fingers disintegrated as well and she could only stare at her tingling, empty palm helplessly. Did she want to be left behind in her apartment, in her world, every time he disappeared? Was there even any other option?

For you to receive all you desire. Whatever that may be.

How foolish was she? Why could she not drown out the absurd, pleading voices whispering in her mind of dangerous maybes and what ifs? Why was her treacherous heart so fixed on the unattainable, the impossible?

She bit her trembling lip, fighting back the tears blurring her vision as she spoke aloud to no one, her voice reverberating against the barren walls of her living room, thick with the confusion that afflicted her.

"There's... nothing to forgive."


"Nyx?"

Erebus' voice rang kindly in her ears, his hand resting over hers. Her husband sat beside her on the blue velvet settee in their chambers in a rare lull in their duties that had just so coincided that Erebus had been afforded the opportunity to seek her out, to partake in her company, to indulge in the sweetness of her presence.

She did not lift her heavy-lashed midnight eyes to meet his gaze, nor did she pull her hand away from his touch.

Erebus' kindness was more bitter than poison. His gentle touch pierced through her, more painful than the points of arrows. What choice did she have, other than to quietly accept his presence, his efforts to reach her, his calm and enduring manner. He sat beside her as proud and regal as if she herself were the very crown on his head. Little did he know how tarnished that crown was, how rusted and battered. How ill-suited it was to him. That crown did not honor him in the slightest, on the contrary, all that saw it would doubt his very divinity on account of it.

That was what she had become. A stain on his reputation. A slur on his good name. There was no longer any hope of changing the reality that had been shaped to existence around them. The paces they found themselves pulling endlessly. He was as helpless to leave her as she was helpless to deny their leader and yet… given the choice, what would she choose? Where did her desire lie? Seldom did she dare ask herself that question.

There were days she did not dare consider herself a victim, so sure was she of her guilt. She had been complicit in all of Cronus' crimes, had gone to him willingly. Other days she could not bear the agony of the simple knowledge of her helplessness. She had never even been given a chance to entertain the idea of escaping him. It had been hopeless from the start. The minute those crimson eyes were fixed on their target, they impaled them in place, devoured them whole. The moment Cronus had chosen her, she had become his, in all but name. She had never had any say in the matter. Or had she? Was it what she had chosen? Was she the one to blame? If she wanted Cronus, if she was the one who had chosen to hurt her family… Then why was she, herself, hurting so much?

Erebus squeezed her hand as her thoughts spiralled in endless circles with no hope of reaching any real conclusion.

"Cherished one," he began quietly, his gaze fixed on her downturned countenance, on the thick lashes veiling her eyes from him. "I must speak with you."

"Then do so, Erebus," she answered distantly. The words escaped her as a weary sigh and her husband lifted her hand from her knee to the palm of his free hand, where he held it as tenderly as a fledgling sparrow between his strong, warm hands.

"Nyx," his voice rumbled from his chest, sterner now, and she finally turned her tired, onyx eyes towards him.

"Much has transpired in recent centuries. Events I have turned a blind eye to, not wanting to exacerbate your torment." He spoke slowly, his words as steady and rhythmic as the rippling ebb and flow of ocean waves.

Nyx blinked, awareness prickling to life within her, banishing the weary apathy that had been weighing her down. What was the meaning of those words? Which events could he be referring to that tormented her? Images flashed through her mind, of Cronus' arms on either side of her, his bare, sweat-drenched skin stretching as far as her eyes could see at that proximity, the scent of him surrounding her, smothering her, his hands - bruising, unforgiving, possessive and debasing - everywhere at once. Her lips turned in a frown. He could not mean...?

Erebus opened his mouth to further elaborate but they were interrupted by an insistent knock on the burgundy double-doors to their chambers.

"Lord Erebus! Lord Cronus summons you!"

Erebus lifted his eyes towards the door and the faintest of sighs escaped him as a deep exhale through his nose and his lips pressed together determinedly. Not willing to utter the slightest word of complaint.

"Immediately, my Lord!" The servant insisted in a tone that was both plea and demand.

Erebus turned back to his wife and slowly relinquished her hand, allowing the pale fingers to slip from his grasp. The sorrowful expression in his dark grey eyes cut her to the quick.

Her apathy dissipated at his apparent departure, at their imminent separation. "A moment, Erebus!" she pleaded, despite herself. "What was it you wished to say?"

Erebus paused briefly, holding her gaze solemnly, before turning from her and making his way to the door. "Another time, Nyx."

She could only look on with a conflicted agony pulsing through her heart. A part of her wanted him to stay and never leave. Another wanted him to go and never return. The sight of his broad back, his dark-brown hair settled loosely over his shoulders, , his tender manner, it all brought back memories she was better off forgetting. Memories that weakened her resolve.

She sat in silence as the doors closed behind him, and her gaze dropped to her intertwined fingers. What had he wanted to say? What was the source of the grief that lingered behind the reassuring expression he always seemed to adopt for her sake? She shuddered to think of it, but at the same time, she, too, had so much she wanted to say to him. Tears pooled in her eyes at the thought of loosening her tongue, of ridding herself of all the secrets, the guilt, and the agony that plagued her.

She recalled the young god who had gifted her those cherished gardens. Recalled their wedding day, the affection brimming in those otherwise stoic eyes as he cupped her face and whispered promises into her ear that set her heart alight. Recalled their wedding night, full of hesitant touches, sweet innocence, and an unearthly longing. Recalled how she had been called away in the dead of night, leaving his sleeping form behind her, and how she had then returned, hours later, broken in places that no eye could see, to slip back beneath the covers, back into his embrace. He had not so much as stirred in her absence, and when he opened his eyes the next morning it was with a blissful ignorance, a naivete that first hurt her, and as time progressed had kindled a cold loathing for him. How could he not know what was happening to his wife in his own kingdom?

She stirred from her reflections with a start as she felt tears drop onto her hand. That would not do. If someone were to see her in a state of weakness, it would reflect badly on the underworld, on her family, on her husband. With a shaky sigh, she reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes. Only to freeze mid-motion when a voice whispered through her consciousness - menacing, leering, and mocking at once.

"Nyx…"

She turned towards the window, as if expecting to see the speaker but only the familiar darkness of the underworld's gardens greeted her. She hesitated, although the call itself already made the speaker's intentions clear. An icy shiver made her skin prickle in dread and nauseating anticipation. She knew what was required of her and still, she tarried, hoping the voice would abate.

"Come."

There could be no denying it now. Any further delays would amount to insubordination. She could not be held accountable for such an offense. She rose shakily to her feet, before turning towards the doors. None of the servants would stop her as she approached the gardens. None of the guards would so much as turn her way when she left behind the protective foliage and entered the courtyard leading into Cronus' chambers. None of the palace maids would move a muscle as she made her way down the wide hallways, decorated in shades of white marble, ebony lacquer, and red velvet. Was it adultery? Was it an abuse of power? Was it molestation? Infidelity? It did not matter. It was none of their concern. None of hers, either. It was a command, one she was helpless to refuse, even if she wanted to. Did she want to?

She stared unseeingly at her hand, the pale fingers outstretched for the golden door handle leading to Cronus' chambers. How had she crossed that distance? In so short a time? How had she found herself here already?

Swallowing thickly, she pulled open the doors. He had summoned her, she could not waste his time with knocking and pleasantries.

"My Lord," she murmured, curtsying as she bowed her head humbly. She struggled to banish the tremors that plagued her form. She would be helpless to explain them, after all these years. She had only herself to blame. Erebus' affection had confused her. She needed to forget everything, to clear her mind and become the pliant doll Cronus needed her to be. Anything else was reckless, dangerous. Self-destructive.

She stood in the doorway, finally daring to lift her eyes and saw the Uchiha patriarch, wrapped in a loose robe, lounging on silken pillows atop a magnificent four-poster bed, clearly awaiting her.

"You took your time," he spoke in a low, displeased voice. A bad start.

She hastened to shut the doors behind her, sliding a latch into place. Cronus did not care for whoever might stumble upon them, but she did not share that sentiment.

"Please accept my humble apologies," she appeased, cursing inwardly as her fingers fumbled with the latch. She was nervous. She could not afford to be. Why, after all these years, was she nervous with him? None of this was new, none of it was a surprise. So, why had her mouth gone dry? Why was her stomach turning in revulsion?

When she had finally locked the door, she turned back towards him, untying her robes to give herself something to do - and to compensate for her tardiness. Willingness, obedience, submission - these were the qualities she needed to convince him of, if she wanted to stay in his good graces, and if she wanted the same for her family.

The frown that had settled on his features faded somewhat as he watched her shed one layer of elegant silks after another, until she stood before him in nothing but a simple, thin silk shift.

A faint grunt of approval left his throat and he beckoned her closer. She hastened to comply, hoping to distract him with her body, to prevent him from seeing the trepidation on her pale face. It seemed to be working.

She crawled over the mattress until she was just beside him, kneeling patiently as she awaited further instructions. Cronus emptied the goblet of ambrosia in his hand before depositing it on a side table. He turned towards her, giving her his undivided attention - and she wanted to sink into the earth.

He tugged at the thin cords holding her shift closed, and when the thin fabric fell apart, exposing her chest to him, he did not hesitate before reaching for her soft, supple skin, cupping her breasts in a possessive hold that bordered on painful. It was always this way with him. Looking upon her as a hunter might after bringing down an exceptionally magnificent deer. Angling his head, admiring his prey - before slicing its jugular.

She shuddered and the movement did not escape his notice, drawing those dark and forbidding eyes immediately up to hers. She pasted on an unconvincing smile, one that belied the sweat beading on her forehead, dripping between her shoulder blades, but she prayed that it would serve.

Cronus watched her, as perceptive as a hawk, his gaze now fixed firmly on her face as he pinched the sensitive buds with more force than necessary, almost as if daring her to cry out. She did not.

"Your husband has been keeping you busy as of late," he muttered. It was an unmistakable complaint.

Her mind raced. What was the appropriate response to that? "Y- yes. He seems to have more time these days. Long have I awaited my Lord's summons." She hoped that would make her loyalties clear, hoped that would serve to assuage whatever doubts made that brow furrow, but he did not answer and a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"I was under the impression he is convening with you at the moment." She blinked at him, trying to make sense of it. How could he have summoned Erebus urgently but be here with her, indulging in their illicit companionship? If that was what it could be called.

"Let him wait." The gruff response was little more than a growl, drawn from within his chest, angry and possessive as he pushed Nyx down to the black, silk sheets as he claimed her mouth with a ruthlessness she had grown to expect, but that revolted her nonetheless.

No. What was wrong with her? Even as he bit and sucked at her lips, nearly drawing blood, and his tongue entered her mouth as if seeking to claim every inch of it, she struggled to make sense of her own reactions to him. She had lain with Cronus for centuries. She knew his desires, his wishes, she knew how to meet every single one of them. She cared for him. She loved him. Hadn't she told herself as much for centuries already? That her heart was his? Why, then - she gasped as she felt his fingers inch their way between her thighs, parting her folds without warning, without preamble, and sinking into her cavern. His touch was painful and she clenched in response, as if seeking to bar him entrance.

Her eyes widened in horror. What had she done? Why was everything going wrong? Why couldn't she settle into the familiar routine - one she had known for almost as long as she had lived?

He growled her name, and the anger simmering in his eyes as he looked at her was unmistakable. A small girl came to mind, hiding her face behind long midnight tresses, trembling and wailing aloud as she sobbed miserably. Save me, save me, save me…

Her instincts of self-preservation jolted to life and she pressed a reassuring hand to his shoulder. "My Lord," she breathed, a strained smile making itself apparent on her face. "Allow me." She could not give him the opportunity to dwell on her mistake, could not afford for him to see her as anything less than eager and willing to do his bidding. She knew how the night would end in that case, and suspected it would be hours yet before Cronus would return to Erebus and leave her behind, bruised and battered.

No. She needed to convince him that she was as in love with him as ever. Steeling herself to do just that, she discarded her silk shift, allowing it to fall to the floor beside the bed as she pushed him gently back, untying his robe. She could please him in ways that he would not see the revulsion on her face. That would surely resolve the issue?

Cronus allowed her to trace hesitant fingers over the defined muscles of his chest, observing her through narrowed eyes. Something had happened. Something had changed. He leaned back and allowed her the chance to prove her loyalty. A merciful gesture. He watched her in disdain as she moved lower still, her hands paying worship to his body until her mouth hovered over his erect member. She paused, casting him a hesitant glance, asking permission.

A brief inclination of his proud head was all the confirmation she received. So, she wanted to please him with her mouth? That would do. For now. It would not serve to make him forget how she had dared to reject him mere moments before, but it would serve as a start. And when he was done with her, she would never do it again. He frowned at the top of her head as she worked eagerly to please him. To think that she still had reservations, after all these centuries. Clearly, Erebus had been given too much free rein as of late. That would have to be amended. That, and…

He called on the chakra within his body, a red-violet wave of chaos, his very essence, and felt it emitting from every pore on his skin before he reached down and filled his hands with her inky locks, before ruthlessly pulling her backwards.

No. This would not do at all. But he was nothing if not a patient teacher. It did not matter how much of a fool she was. He could remind her again. He was more merciful than he was given credit for.

Nyx struggled not to shudder in his embrace. His arm weighed heavy over her waist and the bruises there ached in response. Her throat burned and the soreness between her legs would plague her for days, she knew. Was there a place on her body that was not bruised and stinging? She was covered in blood, sweat, and the Fates knew what else. She had long since given up counting the hours Erebus had been kept waiting. If she could be good, just a little longer, this ordeal would nearly be over.

Ordeal? Cronus' fingers traced circles on her hip, and she did not see the smirk that crossed his expression. This was certainly no ordeal. She loved Cronus. Loved him with all of her heart. Erebus was the one standing between them. If it weren't for him, she could spend all her days with the Uchiha patriarch in this way.

Moonflowers. Gardens. A lake. A gruff voice. "My queen."

Her heart constricted painfully. Her feelings were riotous and chaotic. Erebus. Her husband. Erebus. The man who loved her so tenderly. The one she - No. Her heart belonged to Cronus alone. Didn't it?

Her riotous thoughts were brought to a screeching halt when Cronus caught hold of her chin and turned her face towards himself, laying claim to her lips in yet another possessive kiss that clouded her mind with a hazy fog, banishing all conflicting thoughts to oblivion.

Cronus was the one she loved. He was all-powerful. He was their lord. Their savior. They needed to submit to him. Herself, most of all. And how she loved submitting to him.

It all settled into place. This was as it should be. How foolish she had been, to harbor doubts.

"I must take leave of you," he decided, finally drawing back to extract himself from their tangle of limbs. To dress and face the tasks that were always waiting for him as patriarch of the Uchiha clan.

"My Lord," she reached out for him, paying no heed to the black and blue blotches on her arms. The distance from him was unbearable. "Please, just a moment longer."

"I tire of your childishness, Nyx." He chastised her, and she withdrew her reach immediately. She could not afford to displease him.

"My apologies, my Lord."

He turned his back on her, retreating to the adjoining bathing chambers. The implication was clear. To be gone before his return.

Nyx chanced a glance at her own battered body and knew that she would need a drink of ambrosia to accelerate the healing process and escape any concerned questions from her family. When it came to keeping their love a secret, Cronus seemed not the least bit bothered at being found out. Which only meant she needed to be that much more careful.

Refilling Cronus' goblet, she downed the contents hastily, almost feeling the bruises sink into her skin before disappearing entirely. She was quick to comb her fingers through her hair and fasten a semblance of her previous updo in place. Pulling her silks back on, one by one, she stood before the mirror and appraised her appearance. It would have to be good enough.

She exited his chambers quietly. Erebus would be kept busy for a few hours yet. She assumed Cronus had actual business with him, apart from keeping him away from her side, and so, she had some time as yet until she needed to face him. The meddler.

She held her head high, marching back to her chambers where she would seek a warm bath and fresh clothing. Focused, single-minded and at ease she reentered the palace, making her way down the illustrious hallways. She was the one Cronus had chosen to make his own. Did anything else matter? A sense of pride filled her being at the thought. He had not tired of her despite the centuries. The mere knowledge of that fact was endearing, and a small smile found its way to her lips.

She came to a stop, however, when she saw someone approaching from the opposite end of the marble hallway. A gilded mask, omniscient, ebony eyes, regal bearings and a proud, understated manner. Itachi.

She could not bring herself to move, watching him instead in an unsettling mixture of awe and terror. He moved as soundlessly and smoothly as a shadow. As if there wasn't a thing that could stand in his way. Her heart ached at the sight of him, filled with things she wished to say without even knowing, herself, just what they were.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart seemed to stop entirely, as his dark eyes lifted to hers, taking her in from head to toe - from her slightly disheveled hair, to the robes that were no longer adjusted just so, not in the detailed and elegant manner she was known for. Minor imperfections that would escape the notice of anyone - except for her perceptive son. There was not a thing that could avoid those knowing ebony eyes. She swallowed thickly as his gaze flickered back up towards her. Meeting her eyes for a fraction of a second, before turning his attention back to the opposite end of the hallway, his destination, and passing her by without so much as a word.

She watched him go, terror flooding through her veins as she pressed a hand to the heart barreling in her chest. Her son. Erebus' son. One so cherished. She struggled to remember the day he was born, how the two of them had smiled down on his precious face, side-by-side, but the memory was shrouded by a red-violet fog and she pressed a hand to her temple as a mind-shattering headache exploded without warning.

She stumbled to her chambers, clenching her teeth and asking herself, not for the first time…

How much did Itachi know?


AN: Join the crew! Read and review!