Angelus Mortis

by Loveless81

Angelissa Caelum finds a demonic cat that has escaped from the Underworld - leading her to encounter Death Himself. Her best friend is adamant the cat is evil - but they soon discover much more sinister forces are at play, determined to stop Elissa from fulfilling an ancient prophecy written in the stars themselves [Spin-off Quietus AU]

47. Part XLVII: Fortitude and Foreboding

Part XLVIII: Fortitude and Foreboding

"Lethe."

His use of her given name, barring any formal epithet of divinity or royalty or some other such prefix that would have suggested distance between the intruding vixen of a goddess and Itachi, registered only dimly in Elissa's still spinning mind.

She watched the admittedly stunning goddess approach in a self-assured, almost lazy manner, as if she had all the time in the world while Elissa struggled to slow her breath, still reaching for the tail ends of thoughts and feelings that were flitting away, frustratingly out of reach.

"Thanatos," Lethe acknowledged with a nod and a smile that had remarkably little of a smile about it, half of her features shadowed by her thick, maroon tresses. The sound of her voice was low but delicate, like distant wind chimes.

"You are far from the site of your obligations," Itachi noted, his hand not erring from Elissa's hip - a fact that both served to stop her heart from calming in its racing frenzy and also discomfited her, because with Lethe's appearance every one of his actions suddenly seemed calculated and ingenuine. He had just ravaged her mind to blot out the bits that did not serve him, and yet he held her as tenderly as if she were his dearest possession - only because this goddess was watching.

"As you duly considered, I am sure, when planning this excursion." Lethe climbed the last few steps, cresting the top of the hill with no difficulty as she joined the couple. "Consider it a personal favor, that I came this way for you."

There was an odd lilt to the way she said personal, as if there were more between the two of them than met the eye. In fact, the way the goddess had no qualms about approaching Itachi, stepping into his space, speaking freely… Elissa frowned, wondering if she was piecing the clues together correctly, or whether some baser part of her was jumping to jealous conclusions.

"Then we must disappoint you. We had chosen this path expressly seeking solitude." He tightened his grip on Elissa's side and drew her subtly, more firmly towards himself. That slight touch burned on her skin like acid. It took more strength than it should have to simply allow his hand to linger there, when she wanted nothing more than to shove him off the edge of the cliff. Lethe could jump after him for all she cared.

Lethe spared Elissa a disparaging look, her icy blue eyes raking over the girl's form - clearly unimpressed. Elissa felt at once out of place and overdressed in her finery - a sharp contrast to the goddess' simple garb - and felt quite belittled under the weight of the lovely goddess' gaze,

"I've heard," Lethe dismissed curtly, her eyes narrowed and unconvinced. She tilted her head to the side, still watching Elissa, as if looking for something she had failed to notice upon her first perusal. At length, she shook her head with an exasperated sigh before turning back towards Itachi.

"Come now, Thanatos," Lethe purred, swaying closer to lay an unassuming hand upon his arm. "Let us have the truth of the matter." She spoke as if Elissa was not present, or not worth addressing at all.

It was that simple touch that shook Elissa out of her addled state. All at once, her nagging suspicions were confirmed from that single gesture alone - a gesture that clearly implied a relative degree of familiarity between the pair. She had been acquainted with the dangerous and stoic God of Death for long enough to know that he was not one to allow just anyone to touch him. Nobody surely dared beyond those in his immediate family circle, and yet there Lethe was, doing precisely that.

There was something so viscerally wrong about those pale, ringed fingers resting on his black sleeve, something so wrong with the fact that he did not immediately pull his arm away, that Elissa was brought jarringly back to the present.

Who was this woman who dared to touch Itachi so brazenly? He had called her Lethe. Elissa assumed that she had to be the goddess who governed over the river that shared the same name. The River of Forgetfulness. Apt, considering that Elissa felt more than willing to forget meeting her already.

Anger swelled within her at the sight of that hand lingering in its place, but she was careful to conceal it from her face, to quell it, to save it for later, once she and her so-called betrothed were truly alone. Yes, she was now absolutely certain that Itachi's affection was ingenuine, likely an act intended to keep her from blowing their cover so soon after her arrival in his world. But that was what they had agreed on. That was the ruse they were partaking in, one that assigned her a protected status within a deadly realm that no living mortal was meant to visit. She had a role to play, there was a ploy at hand, and she couldn't allow her emotions to make her forget that, not when there was so much at stake.

It suddenly occurred to Elissa that if Itachi thought impressing this one goddess was worth manipulating her mind and toying with her trust, then clearly Lethe had considerable influence in the Underworld. Which meant that they had to convince her their engagement was genuine.

He wants to give her a show? Elissa blinked at the goddess, being careful to school her features. Bring it. I'll give her a show.

Discreetly she reached out, pretending to brush something away from Itachi's arm. The action caused Lethe to draw her hand away - just as Elissa had intended.

"Will my betrothed introduce me to the one who approaches him so freely?" Elissa quipped lightly, but her voice concealed an edge, a threat that was not lost on the goddess.

"Betrothed?" Lethe smiled, and this time, there was humor in it. "Surely, you have not committed yourself to this flight of fancy our good prince has engaged in?"

Elissa inwardly bristled at the accusation, somewhat surprised by the goddess's bluntness, but furrowed her brows in a picture of innocent confusion.

She looked up at Itachi, then, her gaze awash with what she hoped passed for convincing love and deep affection. "My heart, I know I'm new to your world, but I've been instructed that it's impolite to pry into personal matters. Isn't that the case here? I'm not sure how the intimate details of our engagement are any of her concern."

Itachi had gone quite still as he held her tender gaze, searching her eyes with something akin to confusion flickering transiently across his own sable irises. She could sense that he was taken aback by her unexpected term of endearment, although nothing in his demeanor betrayed that fact to the goddess who watched them both like a hawk waiting to swoop in for the kill.

Lethe took the bait like a hare during hunting season, and she lifted her chin indignantly. "This engagement is of great concern to all who dwell within this realm. Do you truly imagine any mortal affair to be beyond the scope of the gods?" She laughed, then, a bittersweet, tinkling sound and Elissa hated how condescending it sounded to her ears.

"Surely, you don't truly believe that the God of Death is in love with you?" She spoke the word as if it were something vile, not fit for polite company, and Elissa tried to conceal how close to home those harsh words struck, how much they truly hurt, because she knew herself, more than anyone, that whatever confusing, maddening thing it was that was flirting between her and Thanatos, love was most certainly not the correct word to describe it.

"Lethe," Itachi interjected curtly, stirring from whatever spell Elissa's doting gaze had cast on him in order to de-escalate the situation, but Elissa was full of pent-up rage to begin with and had no one to unleash it on, she was more than ready to trade blows with the goddess.

"I'm not surprised you'd doubt it. I expect you to," Elissa dismissed casually, a note of pity in her voice as she wrapped her arm around Itachi's, leaning her head against it affectionately like the lovestruck mortal Lethe clearly viewed her as being. "When you're immortal, it must be pretty difficult to recognise genuine emotions like love."

As Lethe's eyes positively burned with ire, Elissa tutted and added, "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll figure it out someday. You have forever."

Itachi blinked, his onyx gaze slipping away from the patronising goddess, towards the mortal at his side. The encounter was unfolding in precisely the unpleasant way he had anticipated and wished to avoid, yet it was also clearly inevitable. It was unwise to make an enemy of Lethe, but the cunning goddess had chosen to openly question the nature of their acquaintance and had insulted Angelissa in doing so. Angelissa was responding in exactly the manner that was to be expected in order to convince Lethe that their betrothal was sincere. Surely not allowing her to speak would only serve to raise further suspicions.

The head leaning against his arm felt unfamiliar, strange. He had some difficulty reminding himself that these touches, this affection, were no more than an act. It had been a long time since someone had touched him so familiarly, looked at him so affectionately. Ages - since he had last allowed it, welcomed it.

His time with Lethe had been born of mutual need and understanding, but there had never been any love between them. That plain fact, and the knowledge that neither of them wanted anything more than brief, uncomplicated intimacy, away from the eyes of the Underworld court, was the precise formula that had kept them in each other's beds, on and off, these last few centuries. It was only when Lethe had started entertaining delusions of marriage and Queenship that Itachi had taken a marked step back from the once uncomplicated goddess.

That had been at least fifty years earlier. The Crown Prince was not known to flirt and partake in meaningless dalliances often, despite the many females at court vying for his affections. All the encounters he had ever chosen to engage in had always been brief and discreet, strictly concealed from the court's gaze and knowledge. Nothing substantial had ever come from any of them. He had not allowed himself to become attached to any goddess since becoming heir to the throne. A noble of his rank, bound to the throne, was not free to love so carelessly.

The only female he could ever recall feeling any warmth towards, besides his mother and Pasithea, had been a young demi-goddess, born of a union between an Uchiha and a mortal man, with whom he had parted ways long ago. She had been an old childhood friend of his, and they had shared a tentative, fledgling, innocent romance, back before he had assumed his role as True Death. Then his powers had awakened, and he had shortly afterward been chosen as the heir apparent to the Underworld's throne.

She had changed then, becoming withdrawn, believing herself to be unworthy of his company - or perhaps that was what her mother had advised her was proper. His circumstances had changed, also, the free time he'd enjoyed as a young god robbed from him all too soon, replaced by the burden of reaping souls, of shouldering royal responsibility. She had chosen, with Cronus' leave, to return to the surface to live with her father amongst mortals, with the promise that their paths would cross again. He had respected her wishes, believing that in time they would reunite.

The surprising news of her passing, several decades later, had saddened him. It was only with her death that he had considered that perhaps there might have been room for more between them as they fully matured. It had been an early lesson in guarding his heart well, and well he had guarded it, for many centuries.

But Angelissa's innocent touch on his arm unexpectedly stirred something within him, something that he told himself he did not care to explore further. They had clear roles to play. A clear goal to achieve. Any feelings of - whatever these feelings were - lust? Desire? Affection? All meaningless. Just like her own feelings of betrayal and grief. In the grand scheme of things, on the weighty scales where the three realms hung in the balance - personal feelings were a nuisance at best, and a liability at worst. A waste of his time.

Moreover, he began to realize, with some degree of approval, that Angelissa did not need his protection quite as wholly as he had anticipated. He had considered Lethe one of the more apparent obstacles to their plan. In light of their past alliance, the goddess was unlikely to believe that he had fallen victim to the Curse of Aphrodite, let alone with a mortal.

But Angelissa's unassuming confidence laid waste to Lethe's doubts, better still, perhaps, than he could have done himself. When it came to the sparring of tongues, the ever-present battles of words and wit - she was proving to be quite the master. If only the stubborn mortal could practice some restraint in matters where she was clearly out of her depth, she might even prove a worthy partner. Alas, as unpredictable as she was, as open as she was with her emotions and as quick as she was to challenge him, he recognised that there was a real danger that she would increasingly become a liability. One that he was quickly realizing needed to be contained.

Lethe stiffened, irritation apparent in the slight furrow of her brow. "I clearly labored under the delusion you would have taught this human to still her insolent tongue before her betters."

Again, Elissa responded before Itachi could get a word in edgewise, feeling quite in her element. She was no damsel in distress; a jealous goddess was nothing she couldn't handle. She had seen harpies and contorted half-beast demon exes. A little catfight was a walk in the park, in comparison.

"Betters?" Elissa raised an eyebrow, all calm, collected politeness. "I'm your future Queen." She tilted her head. "Pretty sure that doesn't make you my better."

It was all bullshit, of course. Elissa had no intention of becoming the Queen of anything, other than of her own apartment once her life was restored to normal. But Lethe didn't have to know that, and if it made her that much more uncomfortable, Elissa didn't see the problem.

"Queen?!" A short, indignant laugh followed the exclamation. "And how long would you reign? Five years? Ten? Your end would come before your reign had even been committed to the archives. That is, if you manage to please Thanatos enough to retain the position."

Oh hell no, she didn't. Elissa decided right then and there that the goddess was not worth an ounce of her respect. When she was being treated with none herself, when it was clear as daylight to Elissa that there was no chance of her making a good impression. Lethe had clearly already made up her mind about her.

"Well," Elissa agreed with a saccharine smile, "then it stands that I'll still be better than you for the rest of my life, doesn't it? Least I pleased him enough to make it to the archives. I'll go down as the first human to rule this place. What are you the first of, again…?"

Lethe returned her smile with a small, mocking one of her own, one that did not meet her glacial eyes. It was as if she could not take Elissa's irrelevant human opinion seriously, as if she deemed Elissa unworthy of a response, which only served to annoy Elissa further. The goddess was clearly so far up herself, Elissa was surprised she wasn't floating on the wings of her own ego.

Her icy blue eyes flicked to Itachi, and she waited, as if expecting him to intervene, or to contradict Elissa's words and put her in her place. When he said nothing, she remarked, "You have never been one to act upon impulse, Thanatos, nor one known to exhibit a gross lack of judgment. Yet your decision to court this slip of a mortal thing is both."

"You forget your place, and to whom it is you speak," Itachi answered coldly.

Elissa blinked, and snuck a glance up at him, to find the foreboding gaze that was fixed on Lethe icy and indifferent. Terrifying in how void it was of all feeling other than distinct disapproval, and a clear warning that the goddess was stepping out of line.

Lethe shook her head in disbelief. "You are in earnest, then? You truly mean to make this dayfly our Queen? When she knows nothing of this world, nothing of what it takes to rule? You would have a girl barely upon the cusp of womanhood crowned, you would have her give you counsel?"

Elissa stared at the goddess in silent dismay, wondering what her problem was, how she felt bold enough to insult her in Itachi's presence. Her instincts were now absolutely certain that Lethe had to be a jilted ex of sorts. Why else had she taken the trouble of approaching them while they were out alone together, when anyone else would surely not dare to intrude upon their privacy? Even witnessing their kiss had not deterred the goddess. Clearly her concerns had not been able to wait.

The shocking concept of the death deity standing beside her even having an ex was something Elissa's mind struggled to comprehend. Itachi, with a goddess, with another woman? With this woman? It shouldn't have surprised Elissa so much. After all, he was a gorgeous immortal prince, and had lived lifetimes more than all her living friends and relatives and herself combined. He obviously had emotions - even when it appeared he was hewn of cold marble.

But still, it was difficult to stomach the fact. How had he even wooed someone like Lethe? He was anything but Prince Charming. He was more like Prince Alarming, and Lethe didn't even seem like his type. But what was his type? Elissa had no idea. He was private about everything, which made it almost impossible to guess a thing about him. She could plainly see why girls would physically want him, but for him to have history and be involved with someone was another matter entirely. How long had he and Lethe dated? How many other women had he been with? When had they broken up? Questions blustered through her mind like a howling tornado but she pushed them away for later contemplation, and opened her mouth to fire back another retort - only to feel Itachi's hand wrapping around hers.

Slowly he lifted it to his mouth, and in lieu of an answer, pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles as Lethe looked on in revulsion. Elissa blinked, ensuring her internal surprise at the gesture did not reflect on her features.

Lethe paled and took a step back, appalled. "This is naught but a clever ruse, or else you have taken leave of your senses entirely."

"You've said enough," Elissa snapped, for she'd had enough of being openly disrespected, and wanted to be done with the ugly encounter as soon as possible. "Just because I'm young in comparison to all you ancients, doesn't mean I can't learn. It really doesn't work in your favour to be out here insulting your future Queen - or Lord Thanatos' choice, for that matter. Show some respect. He chose me, and we're happy, and you need to get over it."

Lies, lies, lies. But Elissa was so agitated, she spoke the words with a depth of emotion so convincing, that she felt Itachi's eyes lingering on her again.

One corner of Lethe's lips curled into a haughty sneer, before she turned her focus back to Itachi. "What of the Underworld? What of our people? How will such a match secure the stability of our kingdom? What alliances will you gain in binding a creature so ephemeral and weak to your side? Think carefully upon this, Thanatos."

Itachi returned the stare evenly. "Consider your next words with care. I will not permit you to thus insult my betrothed - and your Queen apparent."

The words should not have made Elissa feel a single thing, for how false she knew them to be, but those stupid butterflies in her stomach couldn't recognize a lie when they heard it. Warmth flooded through her, and she hated that she felt it.

Lethe's ire had finally morphed into clear resentment and disgust, as she looked from one to the other as if she were caught in a nightmare.

Elissa found herself holding her breath in the hopes that the meddling goddess was finally convinced.

"And to think I celebrated the day you were crowned," she seethed, her expression mutinous. "This is foolishness. You will be our ruin."

"No," Elissa cut in, meeting the goddess' eyes confidently. "I will be your ruin, and the ruin of all who stand in my way."

She had a feeling Lethe was going to run and tell tales, and Elissa wanted to make this a good tale to tell. She wanted to make it clear that she was no easy target who could be walked all over. The only way to make sure the charade of their sham engagement did not crumble under public scrutiny was to ensure that everyone took her seriously. Which meant it was imperative that she stood her ground when disrespected, as frightening as that was knowing that she was defying literal gods who could otherwise decimate her to pieces without Itachi's protection.

Lethe's dark lips worked over words that would not come. Then her expression suddenly walled off entirely, and she once again appeared bored and nonchalant. Yet something in her eyes simmered like blue flame as she beheld them both, her gaze dropping fractionally onto the hand Itachi was still resting possessively upon Elissa's hip.

"To barter the security of our realm for a transient life you shall one day be compelled by The Fates to sever is folly," she remarked. "A grave mistake that I am certain you shall in time seek out my waters to forget. By all means, enjoy your human pet, for the brief time Atropos shall permit you to keep her before she calls upon you to end her fragile existence. Yet the time of gods has no end. Only eternity awaits us. And I am very patient, Lord Thanatos." Her gaze then flicked to Elissa, and she surprised Elissa by offering a curt nod, almost in acknowledgement.

"A truly enlightening encounter, mortal one," she quipped, voice flat, sounding anything but thrilled.

With those words, and without warning, she vanished from their sight.

What the hell? What a psycho, Elissa scowled, unable to decode the meaning of Lethe's strange choice of parting words. Patient for what, exactly? But the instant she was gone, Elissa wasted no time disentangling herself from Itachi's grasp. Like a candle snuffed out, any warmth she had shown the cruel god disappeared instantaneously. If he thought she had come to terms with his cruel, manipulative actions, he was sorely mistaken. The exchange with Lethe had not taken the edge off of the absolute fury that still raged towards him and she stepped away from him as if freeing herself from the clutches of a snake.

Glancing around them one final time to ensure that they were completely alone, she turned toward him, hazel eyes flashing with fury.

"You were in my head," Elissa hissed, eyeing him warily. They stood facing one another, like two soldiers poised for battle. Her cloak and voluminous skirts flowed in the gentle hilltop breeze and tender tendrils of sun-kissed brown hair framed her face where they had come loose from her crown braid in his merciless grasp.

"Angelissa," he offered calmly, extending his hand toward her. His posture was relaxed as opposed to hers, which was more akin to a snarling wolf ready to pounce. In contrast, he stood there like a hunter speaking softly to the fox in his trap. Unaffected by the bared teeth, by the fear in its eyes.

This was the other side of him, she recognized, the coaxing side. As if he would be good to her now, as if he would explain and all would be well. But they were all lies, she knew. He was good cop and bad cop all rolled into one. He would say and do whatever he needed to, to serve his own purposes. None of it meant anything. She'd been on the receiving end of his manipulative behavior enough times to know that to be a fact.

He waited, patiently, hand held out towards her - neither backing away nor approaching her against her will. As if he were confident that she would soon come to reason and return to his side.

And he was not entirely wrong. He was the only familiar thing in an entirely foreign landscape, an entirely strange world. Where else could she possibly go, if not to him?

"Did you do it because she was there?" Elissa asked harshly, anxiety eating away at her. Wanting him to confirm it, wishing he would deny it. "Is that why you kissed me?"

Itachi hesitated, his dark eyes weighing the furious storm raging in her hazel irises, and then chose, for once, to be honest.

"I did."

Her hands clenched into tight fists, even as pain lanced through her heart. A pain she told herself she had no business feeling, when their romantic relationship was nothing more than an act intended to dupe the royal court into believing they were engaged. They had kissed twice before; once when she was drunk, where he had been caught off guard and had not returned the gesture, and again in her parents' garden on Christmas, when he had initiated it in response to her goading him. That hadn't meant they were anything to one another, not officially, especially not when they hadn't even discussed it and what it meant for them both at any point afterwards.

But Elissa realised that it wasn't so much the fact that he had chosen to kiss her with ulterior motives in mind that crushed her so much, although that was a sharp enough sting to bear; it was the reality that he had once again chosen to influence her mind and body against her will in order to force her to comply with his wishes and obey him.

How many times had she made it clear to him that her autonomy was her own? That her free will and right to make her own decisions fully informed was important to her? How much clearer did she need to be? Why did he not recognise that boundary as if it were inconsequential or insignificant? Why couldn't he respect her wishes?

His dark beauty and allure were nothing but a dangerous, deadly trap. One way or another, he brought doom upon the hapless mortals who crossed his path. One way or another, he broke their hearts and stilled them. With bitterness, Elissa acknowledged that she had allowed herself to be ensnared. She had let herself be reeled in by his magnificence, by his quiet strength and splendor and wisdom, and by the mysteries and divine secrets that his tempting, heavy-lashed gaze whispered to her were within her reach of uncovering - if she only dared to step closer.

And she had dared, had foolishly grown to yearn for his presence, had allowed the boundaries to blur between them, without even consciously registering it until it had been far too late. Without even stopping to consider what it really meant, what the repercussions for her would be. What had started out as a thrill - the thrill of his gaze lingering on her, the thrill that accompanied his proximity - was fast turning into a nightmare. She had wanted to get under his skin, yet somehow he had gotten under hers. And now, trapped in his realm with only him to rely on, she was paying the price for her stupidity, for choosing to trust him so blindly.

She was deeper in than she wanted to admit. For how else could his actions have the power to wound her so much?

"Asshole. I'm not a toy you can play with whenever you feel like it!" Elissa spat, overcome with a childish desire to slap him, or to shove him, knowing that it would be useless to do either, for he would remain as immovable and unaffected as a wall of solid iron. Without waiting for any answer, she gathered her skirts beneath her cloak and spun angrily on her heel to leave the same way they had come up - trembling with the riotous force of the emotions that coursed through her.

Itachi reached out for her arm, but she jerked it free and glared at him with something akin to hatred. "Don't you dare touch me!"

"It is not safe for you to wander alone," Itachi assessed flatly. But the look in those cold, dark eyes sent shivers to her very heart. So unfeeling, so callous. As if she could rage and weep at his feet for centuries and he would never feel a single ounce of her pain. Utterly void of any pity. How very like Death, to be so heartless.

"Anything is safer than being with you," she shot back over her shoulder, meaning every word. When he took a step to follow, she snarled, "If you follow me, I swear I'll scream so loud that whatever secret plans you're cooking up in that twisted head of yours really will be ruined. Leave me alone!"

With that, she quickened her steps, eager to be free of his suffocating presence, hurrying down the hill before he could stop her. Before he could see the tears pooling in her eyes, even when she was already quite certain that he had sensed the heaviness in her chest.

It only incensed her further, knowing how attuned he was to her body's emotions, through the direct link his abilities afforded him to human hearts and the telling, ever-changing rhythms of their beats. Around him, her body betrayed her, and how she despised it.

She stumbled a few times in her heels, and had to slow down in places in her descent, unfamiliar with the terrain she was navigating, but was thankful that she otherwise kept her footing well enough to not tumble ungraciously down the steep hill. Biting her lip in concentration, she focused on making her way back to the palace, half-assuming, half-hoping that Lethe had indeed returned to her own river and would not witness the unpleasant terms on which she parted from Itachi.

Elissa's memories were slowly coming back to her, like a fog lifting, the more distance she placed between herself and the deity she had left behind her. As she finally made it to the bottom of the hill and trudged onward, she recalled why she had been angry in the first place, the knowledge of what Itachi had kept from her, the magnitude of the revelation she had confided in him with, only to realize that he had known - all along - exactly who had been hunting her. Cronus.

Don't look back, she ordered herself, resisting the temptation to turn and glance back up at the top of the hill to check whether he was still where she had left him. Not that she would be able to see clearly from her position anyway, but she didn't want to see him again. Didn't want to risk meeting that all-consuming, intense gaze again.

He hadn't followed her. She knew that meant he was letting her walk away, giving her the temporary space she had demanded, for there was no way he would ever allow her to venture through the realm unguarded. She didn't want to think about whether that meant he had chosen to keep tabs on her another way to ensure her safety, and pushed all miserable thoughts of him to the back of her mind. For now, she just needed to find her horse and get back to the relative safety of the palace. She would decide after that, what she intended to do.

Reaching for the key in her pocket, Elissa squeezed it tightly in her hand. It was a kind of anchor. A comfort. The one advantage she had that not even Itachi knew about. She missed Vetty. And Slayte. And Levi. And her family. Her own people. The ones that would unfailingly take her side no matter the situation. And it was precisely for them that she needed to stay in the hellhole they called the Underworld, she reminded herself with a heavy sigh.

As she journeyed on, she took a careful look at her surroundings, trying to get her bearings. She recalled they had followed the curve of the river Acheron, which she was quite certain was just a little further ahead. From there she could simply track its course to the plains where she had dismounted from Olethros. Simple, in theory, even if she suspected the walk back would take her the rest of the day. Or however time was measured in the shadow realm.

Elissa steeled herself and decided it didn't matter. The exercise would help clear her mind, and she suddenly rued that she didn't have her phone on her to listen to her favourite playlists to drown out her fatalistic overthinking. And so, with nothing but her own thoughts for company, she made her way back in what she desperately hoped was the direction of the river, focusing on navigating her surroundings, on the ever-present beauty of the Underworld, on anything and everything at all - other than the terrible way Itachi had treated her.

No, if she thought of that, she would probably cry, and there was no way she was going to let herself cry where people could see her. Where he might see her. She would never give him the satisfaction.

She walked on, passing over rocky terrain and through empty fields of dull grey grass. Were the tall blades she waded through truly as ashen as they appeared? Or was it simply the darkness that leached all colour from her surroundings? Her feet, treading uneven paths, soon began to ache in her damned heels - clearly designed to look pretty rather than to accommodate being active - and it wasn't long before Elissa started to genuinely worry that she had headed in the wrong direction. Her heart raced, her nerves highly strung, body tense as she continued onwards, dreading that something unnatural and deadly might jump out at her from any angle. Itachi had warned her it wasn't safe for her to travel unaccompanied. She did not know what horrors resided in a realm forged of shadows.

Not your brightest idea, genius, she internally berated herself. Storming off when you've only been here for what, a day?! And you think you've got some photographic map app installed in your brain already to show you the way? Idiot!

The farther she walked, the more agitated and stressed she became. Thirst began to feel like a real problem, despite the coldness of the air around her. But then, like a blessed, winding lifeline in the darkness, she spotted the glowing, sapphire riverbank in the distance, and relief flooded through her. Perhaps she had taken a longer route, and got lost along the way, but she had found the river eventually.

Elissa doggedly made her way as close to the waters as she dared, if only to defy the frustrating God of Death who was the cause of all her grief lately. She wondered why she had been able to dispel his illusion so quickly. Mere minutes had passed before retrieving the memories he had shrouded from her. Were her powers growing stronger here in the Underworld? In the past, it had taken considerably more work, holding onto mere wisps of her memories - or feelings, in lieu of actual memories to work from, and disentangling them, drawing them out slowly, filling the gaps in what she would recall. Carefully, painstakingly. It had never been sudden, like this.

Did that mean Itachi had intentionally undone the illusion he had placed on her? Now that it had served its purpose? Somehow, that made her even angrier. Did he imagine himself a gentleman for it? A hero? If ever there was a man that needed an ego check, it was him, she fumed, as she marched resolutely on.

She was fast approaching the descent of the slopes leading down to the riverbank, where the grassy knolls were at their worst and her heels at constant risk of sinking into them, when her eye caught on something in the river ahead of her.

An unexpected image. A familiar one. She immediately recognised the willowy, slender figure, the long curtain of straight hair.

Slayte?

Elissa's heart leapt into her throat. She couldn't make out the phantom image's surroundings, but she saw that her best friend appeared to be seated, her face buried in her hands. In the tea shop, perhaps? But then, without seeing her face, Elissa couldn't be sure it was her. The thought alarmed her. She had wanted so desperately for Slayte to stay behind, believing that was where her happiness lay, but what was this? Why was she trapped in the river Acheron? And unlike the other souls she glimpsed, Slayte was making no attempt to escape.

Elissa made her way closer to the water, not caring about the heels she had nearly lost twice on her way. She crept as close as she dared, needing to see the image more clearly, just once, to prove to herself that she had been mistaken and that it was some other raven-haired girl altogether. Because if Elissa was going through all that she was, and Slayte wasn't even safe and happy, then… what had been the point of it all to begin with?

She inched closer, her footing growing ever more precarious, but she had to know. She had to see. The words Itachi had spoken to her about the river and those trapped within it rang through her mind, making her feel sick to her stomach with dread.

"I'd not do that if I were you," a woeful voice called out.

Startled, Elissa yelped and fell backwards - a stroke of pure luck, as the other direction would have had her tumbling headfirst into Acheron's dangerous waters. Slayte's image had also been startled by something or the other, and her head shot up, confirming Elissa's fears for one dreadful second, before disappearing altogether as the flow of the river swept her away.

"Slayte!" Elissa gasped in dismay, heart thundering against her ribcage as the implications of what she had just seen exploded within her racing mind.

"An acquaintance of yours?" The same voice asked, and Elissa turned, seeking out the speaker.

It was a young woman, younger than herself in appearance, with dark blue hair so long it fell well past her pale, bare feet and ended in the river, where it became part of its waters. The young woman - or goddess, more likely - hovered over the river, clothed in a white chiton resembling Lethe's attire, but it hung loosely from her frame, even with the gold decorating its cloth and adorning her hair and arms, she was no vision of beauty like the other woman had been.

"Uh… hello," Elissa said politely, still stunned by the goddess' sudden appearance, her thoughts reeling from what she had just glimpsed in the waters. "Are you… Acheron?"

It was a guess, based on the river's name, but the goddess nodded, her mournful sapphire eyes fixed on Elissa.

"And you, the Crown Prince's betrothed."

Elissa nodded in confirmation, before realizing how suspicious her situation must seem. Wanting to salvage their pretense, she hastened to add, "Uh. I'm just out on a short walk. He had other business to see to nearby, that's why I'm here. I'll be meeting him. Shortly."

Very convincing, Elissa congratulated herself sarcastically. A part of her felt terrible for lying - to an immortal, no less. But she hoped that pretending Itachi was nearby would ensure she was protected along the perilous river's edge. It was a place she was certain he would not approve of her lingering in, given the way he had been so cautious about allowing her close to it. Good. She didn't want his stupid approval. If she managed to irritate him with her rebellious actions, all the better.

"Hm," said Acheron, not sounding very convinced, but she was clearly uninterested. She turned those woeful blue eyes back to the bubbling waters behind her.

There was something odd about her - listless and lethargic, but with an underlying restlessness. Her demeanor reminded Elissa of a substance abuser, of someone struggling with addiction.

"Do you know them?" Elissa asked, still on edge. "The people in there?"

Acheron perked up slightly, "I know everything about the river."

Elissa hesitated. Lethe had been highly unpleasant, and she wasn't sure what this goddess would be like, whether it was safe for her to even be conversing with the deity. But she needed to ask the pressing question that burned in her mind.

"The person I was looking at, Slayte…" she began.

"Yes, a shadow nymph, most unusual. She's been here many times before." Acheron seemed bored again, as if she had been hoping for a more interesting question.

Elissa was horrified by the implications of Acheron's response. "But why would she be here? She's meant to be happy. She's with someone she loves, and someone who cares about her. I don't understand…"

She looked at the river in confusion and dismay, deeply troubled and concerned, but Acheron did not seem to be affected, nor interested in clarifying things for her.

"It really is dangerous, you know." Utterly disregarding Elissa, Acheron's wistful gaze turned back towards her own waters. "Once you've had a taste," she dipped her toe into the river and slowly sank beneath its surface until only her nose and eyes were visible, closed in ecstasy, "You'll never want to leave." The last phrase echoed eerily in Elissa's mind, as Acheron's mouth was submerged beneath the waters.

"But that doesn't explain why she's in there," Elissa began again, hoping for some sort of explanation as to Slayte's plight, but Acheron opened her brilliant teal eyes, startling her, and fixed her with a blank stare.

"There are so many reasons to come back here," Acheron sighed, rising slightly until her mouth cleared the water so that she could speak with her. "The nymph has lost a good friend."

Elissa was distraught. Slayte wasn't happy. Slayte was suffering, because Elissa had left her behind. A heavy ache born of guilt filled her heart. That wasn't what she had wanted. Tears stung at her eyes, as a feeling of helplessness and despair washed over her. She didn't want Slayte to be in the waters, trapped in a dark prison within her mind, likely blaming herself for everything, when none of what had happened had been her fault.

Elissa's hands balled into fists. If only there was something she could do, a way to help her friend.

Perhaps she could send a message to the surface? Reassure Slayte that she was fine? Even when she was anything but. The truth was, Elissa had never felt so afraid and alone. So out of her element. But Slayte didn't need to know any of that.

Acheron cast a brief, uninterested glance at Slayte's image as it reappeared, before fixing Elissa with a surprisingly sharp look. "It is to be expected. You almost fell in yourself too, didn't you?"

Fell in? Elissa dragged her eyes away from Slayte's haunting image. She had an unnerving feeling that Acheron wasn't talking about Elissa's near slip on the riverbank earlier.

"That was an accident," she answered tightly, suddenly somewhat afraid of this seemingly harmless goddess. There was something so off about her. Like she had several screws loose.

"Happy accidents," Acheron hummed, closing her eyes again. "They told me not to drink from here, but I fell in by accident, too. I kept coming back. Now, I can't leave." The goddess pointed towards where the ends of her hair became one with the water. "Not that I would want to. This is my home…"

Elissa had a feeling it was part of the reason why Itachi had chosen this route to their viewpoint of the Underworld. The goddess was a prisoner to the river, and not in her right mind; the odds were low that she was going to be spying on them.

"I think it's time to go," Elissa slowly rose to her feet, so as not to alarm the unpredictable goddess, and backed away as she did so. She had a feeling that she wouldn't get any more useful information from the immortal, and her growing discomfort made it impossible to remain and speak with her any further.

"You'll come back soon, won't you?" Acheron turned those glittering, sapphire eyes on Elissa once more. "Come play with me again?"

She was even crazier than Lethe. "I can't promise that," Elissa answered honestly, offering the kind of false smile she'd always used when dealing with her dragon of a boss.

"Aw," Acheron whined, "It's so much more fun when you are here with me. You know it was. I so rarely get visitors… yes…" She began to slowly advance, and for a horrific moment, Elissa wondered whether the goddess intended to pull her into the waters, too.

"If my betrothed brings me this way again, maybe we'll meet again," Elissa offered vaguely. "But he's waiting for me, so I have to go."

Acheron tilted her head, her eyes glowing eerily as they fixed onto Elissa. Elissa's heart pounded. She wondered whether the goddess knew that she was lying, but simply chose not to care about it.

"I can sense it. The turmoil in your own mind. It is far easier to just let go. Why fight it? Why try so hard?" She frowned deeply, and it made her look frightening and uncanny. "Isn't it tiring? You can let go. You can join your friend, if you only drink… just a small taste. A small taste, and you can be free…"

She cupped her hands, holding up the water that pooled into her palms toward Elissa invitingly.

Elissa gulped and took another step backwards. It was definitely time to leave.

"It is tiring," she agreed. "But I have people counting on me. So I'll keep fighting. For them."

Acheron's lips split into a gleeful smile, then, and it was a thing of nightmares.

"Not anymore, you don't," she sang cruelly.

Elissa froze mid-step, caught off-guard by the unexpected reaction. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"No-one leaves the Land of the Dead. They'll move on up there, and you'll move on down here. It's forever, now."

The simple statement filled Elissa with dread - with a sense of utter hopelessness. As if she could sink to her knees and let the earth take her. A strange sensation began to crawl over her as she stared at the goddess's strange, inhuman eyes. A sudden desire to step closer overcame her - but she caught herself, startled by the urge.

But that was just what the creepy deity wanted. She wanted Elissa to give into despair. It was a trick, a mind game. Acheron was toying with her emotions, seeking to claim her, to lure her into her waters. Elissa was quite sure that the goddess had to be insane, to even make such an attempt, to not care or fear what Thanatos would do to her if he found out.

Elissa gave herself a mental shake and turned her back with iron will. She wasn't going to allow herself to give into despair. Not now, not ever. Slayte needed her. Her family and friends needed her. Nobody was safe, until the threat surrounding her was resolved.

Evie would've wanted her to keep fighting. She vowed to do so, in honor of her sister's memory. Her brave sister, who had fought until her very last breath. Elissa would fight and make her proud. She would fight for everyone she loved.

She hurried away, back up the steep slope, inwardly cursing the heels that made the journey a terrible struggle as her calf muscles screamed in protest.

"Wait! Elissa!" Acheron called mournfully. "Waaaait!" The eerie voice echoed over the slopes, reverberating back to her, but Elissa refused to lend an ear. She had made her way out of those waters once and it had been hell. She wasn't going to go back there again if she could help it.

The fine hair at the nape of her neck stood on end as she hastened away from the water and its ominous guardian, losing her footing in the descent down the bank, such was her rush to put some distance between them. Cursing, she removed the hindering shoes and proceeded to continue down the slope barefoot, hoping against hope that nobody was around to see her very unladylike actions. A hot mess she had to appear, an improper, uncultured, clumsy being, one ill-suited to be the betrothed of the illustrious Crown Prince.

Illustrious, my ass, Elissa silently fumed to herself, and finally made it to the bottom, quite out of breath, quickly slipping the shoes back on, if only to keep gravel from cutting into her skin. As she resumed her route along the curve of the riverbank, she cast anxious glances over her shoulder, half-expecting Acheron to be hot on her heels.

But the goddess was bound to the like-named river and did not seem to be giving chase. Elissa sighed in relief, clutching at her skirts as she pushed onwards, tired and thirsty, disturbed and irritable.

Everything was eerily silent around her. The Underworld's landscape beyond the palace was clearly an untamed wilderness, beautiful in places and terrifying in others, utterly harsh and unforgiving. Certainly not suitable for a vulnerable human to be wandering through so unguarded. Elissa was grateful for the luminosity in the darkness afforded by the softly glowing trees and blooms that lined the path parallel to the riverbank, but she found herself wondering where the natural inhabitants of the realm were. Why was she encountering nothing at all, not even animals or nymphs or some other sprites? It seemed odd. It seemed to be too much of a lucky coincidence, that absolutely nothing was bothering her.

That didn't mean she could her guard down for a second. She strained to hear a sound around her. But all that met her ears was the distant rippling of water, stones crunching underfoot and her own shallow breathing mixed with the rushing of blood in her ears, and the chaos of her thoughts as they circled around Slayte's troubling image in the river, Itachi's cruel actions and deceit, and how very isolated and lonely she suddenly felt-

A hot-tempered snort caught her attention, startling her out of her head, and Elissa turned to find Olethros, right where they had left him. She almost collapsed to the ground from the magnitude of relief that rushed through her body. The magnificent steed was a sight for sore eyes and a sure way back to the palace - provided she could get him to cooperate.

"Olethros!" Elissa enthused, her cheer only somewhat forced. She would take a bad-tempered horse over deranged goddesses any day.

Olethros stomped his hoof and averted his gaze with an arrogant huff, but as he was the only way out of her current predicament, Elissa refused to be put off. She resisted the urge to snap at him, drawing in a deep breath to compose her frayed nerves and emotions.

"Come on now, old boy, old buddy, old pal…" she cajoled the stubborn stallion, approaching the mount carefully. But Olethros was having none of it.

"Look. I know you don't like me … much," she added, because to be fair, she had given the stallion no reason to dislike her either. "But help me out, just this once?" She pleaded, reaching for the animal's snout to pet it and prove herself a kindred spirit.

Olethros gave her an unimpressed glance and then rolled his eyes? The nerve. Elissa dropped her hands, accepting that Olethros was in no mood to be pet - by her, at least.

"I'm sure Itachi will be proud of you for being such a noble steed and helping a damsel in distress." She held out her skirts in a mock-curtsy, further underlining her damsel-hood and her obvious distress.

Olethros stilled at the mention of his master's name and Elissa continued, working with the apparent sense of superiority she had picked up on when she had first seen Olethros. "You're not like those other horses in the stable, are you? No, you're a good samaritan, in a league of your own."

Wow, really? She thought to herself incredulously. You're sucking up to a horse? But she was desperate to return to her chambers in the palace, where she would finally be alone and safe and able to think, and Olethros was the only way she could make it back. So she was saying anything at that point, hoping something would stick, and held her breath, daring to hope when the horse's ears finally perked up, and he gave her an even stare, as if considering.

"Yeah…" Elissa went on, wondering what else she could persuade him with. "You know I'm engaged to your master, right? If you're nice to me, I'll put in a good word for you - for like, forever."

To her surprise, Olethros shook his mane - the animal equivalent of oh, alright then, and lowered his head, indicating for her to get on. Elissa grinned excitedly, and approached the steed. Eager to put this awful place behind her, she held onto the saddle, but struggled to get her footing in the stirrup. Her first two attempts to swing into the saddle were met by nickers from Olethros that could only be interpreted as laughter. She cast the horse a dirty look and swung smoothly into the saddle on her third attempt, feeling quite proud of herself.

She took the reins in her hands and, when Olethros did not immediately move, attempted, "Uh, giddyup horsey? To the palace? If that's cool with you." Which was sufficient instruction to spur the horse into action.

The way back was considerably smoother than the ride to the river had been, much to Elissa's pleasant surprise. Olethros did not test her with more than a gentle canter and seemed to slow down on sharp turns and even went around bushes he would have ordinarily jumped over - as if taking great care not to unseat his inexperienced rider. Elissa was touched. Olethros was a good horse after all.

In due time, they arrived at the palace proper, although Olethros bypassed the main entrance and stables and led them instead to what appeared to be a lovely flower garden. Elissa took in her surroundings in quiet wonder and breathed deeply of the fragrant blooms. The Underworld truly did have extraordinary locations to explore. A delight to the senses, sometimes, as much as it was unsettling. A shame the same could not be said for its inhabitants - she had found everyone new she'd encountered except Pasithea and her servants to be anything but delightful - only unsettling.

Elissa dismounted precariously, promising herself she would get better with more practice, and wrapped her arms around Olethros' snout, whispering thanks into his ear. Her gratitude was met with indifference, however, when Olethros pulled free from her embrace and hastened away through the gardens. Elissa stared after him in confusion for a moment, before deciding to follow him, wondering what had caught his sudden attention, when she saw the traitorous horse approach a rose arch to receive a gentle pat on the head from Elissa's undying source of irritation - the insufferable Itachi himself.

Something wrenched violently within her gut and she halted with a start at the unexpected sight, stunned to find him there and dismayed to lay eyes upon him again so soon. The miserable excuse for a god spoke softly to Olethros, who whinnied in genuine joy and then trotted off back to the stables, leaving Elissa to wonder if it had been at Itachi's request that the steed had seen her safely home. Was that why the horse had taken extra care in carrying her back to the palace?

The very thought infuriated her. Fresh rage simmered within her, explosive and volatile as she held Itachi's unrepentant black gaze. The way he looked at her made her blood boil, as if she were in a labyrinth of his making, where he watched from above, entertained, as she stumbled along, losing her way. As if she could run wherever she liked but would always end up precisely where he planned for her to be. As if nothing she said or did was of any consequence.

Elissa's expression darkened, and her hands balled into fists, fully intent on marching right up to him to show him that he damn well couldn't predict the punch she was about to send flying into his face, but her approach was interrupted by a jovial exclamation.

"There you are!"

Both Elissa and Itachi turned towards the speaker, and found the Queen of the Underworld floating towards them, a broad smile painted on her lovely countenance. Had she been standing there the whole time and Elissa simply hadn't noticed because she had been so fixated on Itachi? It was a disturbing thought, disturbing to think his presence held so much power over her senses that it had the ability to cause Elissa to potentially overlook everything else around her.

"I have been in search of you, my dear, but you were nowhere to be found." She clasped both of Elissa's hands in hers, "Were you two out on the grounds?" She gave Itachi a knowing look and Elissa bristled, not quite wanting to know what Nyx assumed they had been up to.

Her riotous thoughts were interrupted by Nyx's fervent enthusiasm, as the goddess did not wait for an answer to enthuse, "Allow me to give you a tour of the palace, my dear. It simply cannot wait; I must get to know you better!"

She linked her arm through Elissa's, fully intent on dragging her away, when Itachi began, "Mother, that is-"

"A wonderful idea!" Elissa chimed in, thoroughly in favor of anything that displeased the insufferable god. She patted Nyx's arm as if the two of them were the best of friends and led the way past Itachi, head held high and refusing to so much as spare him a glance.

She could feel the weight of Itachi's gaze on her back like a burning brand, his clear disapproval sending prickles of alarm up her spine. There was something viscerally unpleasant about defying him, the way it made her instincts - or sometimes, she thought it might be the very soul within her - writhe within her mortal coil, begging her to reconsider, to submit. She would do nothing of the sort. So what if he was the God of Death? She was very much alive, for now at least, and he wasn't the god of her.

---

How did Levi make his way back? Like a wrathful hurricane, laying waste to all it encountered, leaving ruins in his wake as he sought out a shore to crash against. Like a roaring beast, in search of a shadow beneath which to die in peace. Like a man bereft, in need of arms to veil him, words to hold him. Like a child lost, finding home.

He scarcely knew, himself, how they had dragged him away from Kenny's body, shouting at him to get the hell out of there or he could kiss his retirement goodbye. It passed him by in a blur, Ouruo dragging him to his feet, Annie snapping something or other at him as the sirens closed in. And then suddenly, he was alone. Left with the strange, uncanny contrast that impressed itself upon him when he fell out of the hell of battle and landed back on his feet on Canterbury's quiet streets, a steady drizzle easing away the fire of the fight and leaving him chilled to the bone.

How many had died? How many had he killed? How could you take a demon out of hell and ask him to live in the gardens of Eden? Only to drag him back down again? And then, take him out again? How many times could he shift forms before losing any semblance of identity? Of reality?

All that remained was death. The death of his comrades. The death of all those who had been too slow, where his knife had been too quick. Kenny's death. Somewhere in the midst of all of that, the death of the man he had thought he was. And everything in between one death and another was nothing but a happy illusion. Fool's gold.

But the increasing familiarity of the roads beneath his feet lured him on, whispering promises of something half-forgotten. Something worth trudging on for. And that was how he found himself, standing in front of the tea shop's display window, soaked in rain - wanting in. Craving just a spark of warmth to give color to his canvas of blood. To tease out pinks and oranges and auburns and corals. To make a sunrise out of this midnight agony.

The sight of her drew him in with such an intensity that he could not even recall opening the door or climbing the steps. The sight of her, unblemished and whole, gave him pause. Like a man lifted from darkness blinking, blinded, in the light of day. To be seen in her dark eyes was to be alive. And when her expression softened with love, with concern, it was like waking from an impossible nightmare.

But there stretched between them an eternity. Aeons and worlds and gaping chasms that no amount of longing could breach. For he was the demon that claimed lives with abandon, he was the monster that thrived off of spilt blood and she was everything soft and good and tender. How could he touch her with those same hands that thrived in violence? That excelled in breaking things down to nothing?

So he stood still, maintaining the distance between them. At the gates of a heaven that was made just for him, but still not his. Standing still and unfocused, as if he were seeing her from a great distance.

A single gesture of hers, a single word of dismissal, could wash away the blood on his hands, the weight on his heart. What did it matter that she had deceived him? What did it matter that she had come to the site of his shame against his wishes? What did any of it matter?

She was there. The embodiment of all he had ever wanted, all he had ever needed. Her warm eyes took him in like a caress, like an embrace. He could do no wrong in those knowing, immortal eyes. She was his purgatory and his sacrament. His god in judgment, his angel of redemption. She was the only one who could make it all go away.

"You're here," he breathed, making his way towards her, forcing his way through the heavy cloak of self-reproach. His unbound desire for her winning against any feelings of unworthiness, any paltry hesitation. He approached her, dripping blood over the tea shop's gleaming hardwood floors, as the sun arced toward the horizon - to meet its weary end in her generous hold. To sink into her endless night.

He stood before her wearing soot, blood, and someone else's shirt, but she would have known him if he wore another body entirely. His black locks were in disarray, nicks and cuts kissed his beloved form, and his quicksilver eyes fixed on her as if she were his anchor, his lost gaze like a magnet helpless to tear itself away. As if she were the axis his world spinned on.

Slayte sighed softly, as if she had been holding that breath for the entirety of his absence, her restraint crumbling under the weight of her concern. She flew over the few steps separating them, crossing the distance to him in the span of a single breath. Her hands came to rest on his chest, flitting over his minor injuries, muttered curses spilling from her lips with each one she found.

"Where else would I be?" She answered automatically, meeting his gaze again briefly before reaching for his arm to lead him further into the tea shop where she could tend to him properly, but Levi's hands had a mind of their own, as if they could not trust his eyes or his ears. He reached out with both hands, cupping her face the way the stranded cupped water.

Slayte stilled, realizing he was caught up in a need she could not name. She lifted a hand to the back of his, still resting against her cheek. "I'm here," she confirmed again softly, meeting his eyes gently. As if to look at him too sharply would hurt him.

Conflicted emotions warred within those clouded grey eyes, emotions laid bare that he usually kept under iron lock and key. What hell had he faced that day, she wondered, her heart breaking for him. What losses incurred? What part of himself had been stolen, never to be returned? To be looking at her as if he was asking her to save him, to free him from the fetters of life itself.

"Levi," the name fell from her lips as a soothing balm, as if to remind him of who he was. As if to reassure him, that whoever he was, was quite enough. Who had stolen his peace so irreversibly, that he stood before her now as a ghost of a man? The loss of his uncle had hit him hard, she knew. But she sensed that it was not only the loss of his loved one that haunted him so. The return to a life he had turned his back on. The feeling of blood on his hands once more. The buying and selling of death to no gain. All of these things, she knew, had taken their toll on him.

Slayte's other hand lifted to cup his cheek, and the warmth of her seeped into him, melting away his hesitation like ice in the summer sunshine. "You're alright, my love," the whispered words washed over him like absolution. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes as he sucked in a shuddering breath.

He could not have known that Kenny was inviting him to hell. That everything he had believed about himself would be mercilessly stripped away in the span of a single night. That he would lose friends, mentors, and his own uncle - his only family - in mere hours. He thought he knew death intimately. That he was familiar with the pain that settled in his bones, never to leave again, with every bit of love that was lost.

But losing Kenny was like losing the sun in the sky. It was like losing the roof over his head. It was losing the ground beneath his feet. It meant the loss of the only constant he had known. It was losing the very letters that made up the book of his life; leaving the remaining pages littered with gibberish. There was nothing left of meaning.

He could not recall having ever felt so utterly unmoored. So barred of direction. So robbed of any sense of self. There was no one left in the world that was his. He was no one and had no one.

No one but her.

He moved his left hand from her face to hold onto her wrist, as if he were afraid she would withdraw her hand, as if she were his lifeline. But Slayte did nothing of the sort. She stepped closer still, cupping the back of his neck with her other hand and drawing him in until his forehead came to rest against her shoulder.

He stayed that way, eyes closed and weightless, dissolving his pained existence in her forgiving warmth until his ragged breathing slowed. She held him for what felt like hours, rubbing his back, telling him all would be well, and that he was loved, until he could almost believe it.

When a drop of warm salt water dripped down his cheeks, he started. Was this his breaking point? Was he crying? After all these years?

But no, they were Slayte's tears, he realized, as her voice trembled, breaking down her words of comfort into little sobs. It was just like her to cry for him when he was unable. Instinct stirred dimly within him, to protect her, to comfort her, and he raised his head, feeling removed from his own body, as though he were made entirely of stone.

He called her name, but merely a soft whisper fell from his lips. Reaching for her again, to wipe the tears from her eyes, his hands froze in midair as he saw the blood streaked across her cheeks. Handprints left from where he had held her earlier.

His heart constricted at the image. Was there a thing on this earth he could touch without ruining it? Or was he a monster entirely? Greedily ruining all he cared for? His own mother, Kenny… and now Slayte?

"Sorry," he uttered the word as if in a trance, and the two syllables brought on a fresh bout of tears, that Slayte struggled vainly to wipe away, only worsening the blood smeared on her face.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she insisted, her voice thick with emotion. "This shouldn't be happening. You don't deserve.. " But her voice broke on the last words and she shook her head, too overcome to speak further.

Gathering herself, Slayte wiped the blood from her face and held her palm up for him to see. "This?" she sniffed, "this is nothing. It's just blood, it will wash away like it was never there." She wiped her hands on her black jeans and held them up again, "See?" As if that made it all better, as if that undid everything. "There is nothing you could do to hurt me, okay? You're good." She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, still trembling, before adding, "We're good."

Good.

There was comfort in the word. He was far too removed from the moment at hand. Escaped, somehow, from his own body, to truly hear or understand what she was saying, but he liked the familiar cadence of her voice, the comforting rhythm of it. Liked the warmth of her wrapped around him, even though he dared not dwell on it, feeling as if he were in a dream, as if his surroundings were a poorly constructed illusion and would crack like porcelain if he looked too closely at them.

He was tired. Too tired to think about what the blood on his hands had to mean, or about what being alone in this world meant, or about why Slayte was crying for him. He watched her, like a vision from a dream, as she composed herself, wiping away her tears as she muttered reassurances. He welcomed the feel of her arm wrapping itself around his midsection, and allowed her to lead him up the stairs, and into the bathroom. Not quite sure why she was holding onto him as if he might collapse at any moment. Not sure why she was leading him on like a lost child.

He watched her hands distantly, as if they were part of a scene he was watching on television, as if his body weren't his own, as she tenderly undressed him, her movements interspersed by a sniffling sound, each time she discovered some new injury and was overcome by tears anew. Tears she was quick to banish, to force herself to focus instead on the task at hand.

She spoke without pause, and the sound of her voice was like the light at the end of a tunnel, one he could follow out of the darkness that engulfed him. He complied robotically as she guided him into the bath tub, but he could not feel the warmth of the water against his skin. Only the warmth of her touch as she gingerly washed the blood from his hands, from his face, from underneath his nails. Her nimble fingers seemed to wash the very weight off of his shoulders as well, and he allowed himself to sink deeper into his escape from reality, to disappear from his own mind as she tended to him, taking extra care where his skin was split with fresh injuries. She dressed his wounds, uttering soft nothings all the while, words of comfort he could not make out.

Somehow he ended up in his own bed, the lights dimmed, the windows shut against the sirens that wailed distantly - a sound that made his hair stand on end, a sound he never wanted to hear again.

She was going somewhere, he did not know where, but he felt her move away and the pleasant nothingness he had surrendered himself to trembled, set to shatter entirely, and if it did - then he would feel.

He could not imagine anything more awful at that moment. He wanted to stay gone. Wanted to stay lost. He didn't want to connect one thought to another. He wanted to float in the rift between spaces. His hand caught onto her wrist, desperation making his grip tighter than he intended, more painful, as if the night had robbed him of any lingering softness, but when his mouth formed words, by some miracle, they were the ones he wanted to say.

"Don't go."

"I just -" there was something bundled in Slayte's arms, preoccupying her. Bandages? Old clothing? He did not know. Seeing his expression, she thought better of it and set her bundle on the floor to the side of the bed. And then her presence was beside him again, warding off the misery that threatened to settle in his bones. Her lingering touch, like a memory from a dream, stroked his hair away from his forehead. "I'm here," she said again, and it was a promise.

He allowed himself to be comforted. He allowed himself to need it. He was too empty, too hollow to deny himself anything. Desperate to be filled with meaning again. Desperate to win back the parts of himself he had lost that night. So he closed his eyes, held her wrist, and savored her touch - telling himself it would last forever.

Telling himself no universe could be so cruel as to take this away from him, too.

Sleep claimed him, but she stayed at his side, her bundle forgotten, whispering words of comfort and songs of the old tongue - meant to comfort human souls in passing, hoping they would comfort him now. Hoping that when the sun rose, it would bring the promise of better days and new hope for both of them.

---

Itachi's mother was entirely pleasant, and that simple fact caught Elissa so off guard that she found it difficult to relax in her presence. The woman was utterly unlike her husband and her two sons, behaving as if she were living in a world of her own, one where the flowers, just like in her gardens, were perpetually in bloom. A happier place, perhaps, where her cheery, kind demeanor was not so sorely out of place.

They walked along the palace's many torch-lit hallways, flitting past the areas that Nyx found disinteresting with clipped commentary. Areas such as the double doors leading towards the barracks and soldiers' training grounds, the armory, the forge and the war council chambers. As Elissa remarked that the level of "preparedness" seemed quite extreme, considering the three realms were at peace, Nyx merely responded with a stern "indeed". Elissa made a mental note to make her way back to the armory when the opportunity arose. Perhaps she would find something to give her an edge.

They swept past these branches of the palace with little regard and Nyx's mood lifted considerably as she showed Elissa the ballrooms, the indoor gardens - so lovely and filled with all manner of flowering plants one could easily forget that they were indeed underground. Torches were lit within mirrored glass orbs, and some manner of magic caused them to glow so brightly it felt almost as if she were on the surface in a sunlit room. The gardens were followed by the Archives, where Nyx went on and on about the extravagant architecture while Elissa's attention was consumed entirely by the endless shelves of books that went up four floors. The place smelled of knowledge, leather, and magic.

Before Elissa could so much as open a book, Nyx dragged her away, eager to continue on their tour. As they made their way deeper into the palace, the Queen drew her attention to one bit of sorcery after another. Self-lighting torches, enchanted chambers from which music played, despite an apparent lack of instruments, a tea table where the sweets never emptied and the tea was always hot when one came down to sit. A carved owl that always greeted passersby by name - but stayed curiously silent as Elissa approached.

Everywhere they went, Nyx introduced Elissa enthusiastically to the many inhabitants of the palace, always lauding Elissa's fairness and wisdom, and what an exceptional mortal she must be to have laid claim to her elusive son. How pleased she was to welcome Elissa to the family.

As they journeyed from one place to another, they were greeted with deep curtsies, decadent snacks both sweet and savory as well as jeweled goblets of ambrosia. These little interludes slowed their progress quite a bit, but Elissa didn't mind. Her feet were already weary from hours of walking - an effect her immortal companions likely forgot to consider - and she welcomed the break.

She tried a bit of this and that as Nyx made small talk with one goddess or another, stilted conversations about the weather or the upcoming nuptials where Elissa could not shake the feeling that the women were actually talking about something quite unrelated to the topic at hand. She waited politely for the pleasantries to come to an end so that they might continue their tour. The veiled barbs and polite double meanings were just more politics, no doubt. After so many of these conversations, where she had tried to interpret the true meanings behind the cloying smiles, she was growing quite tired of it.

But the food, on the other hand, was fantastic. Many layers of the thinnest, flakiest dough were wrapped around creamy, sweet centers with a core of some sort of fermented fruit that added just the right kick of tang to offset the syrupy sweetness. She tried to guess at the recipes for each dish and wondered who she needed to bribe to have them show her the way to the kitchens.

While she sampled a little of every dish on offer, she noticed that Nyx's elegant, ringed fingers were never far from the stem of a goblet of ambrosia. She wondered how much of the stuff the gods needed. If they needed it at all. Wondered if it was possible for them to become intoxicated. Wondered what Itachi would be like, under the influence. Unhemmed, for once, honest and straightforward. If he might kiss her, then, without any ulterior motives?

Cursing herself for the wayward direction her thoughts had taken, Elissa straightened and forced herself to listen to the painfully dull conversation. The talk of husbands had dwindled, it seemed, and they were now speaking of a ball that was to be thrown in Elissa's honor.

"A ball?" Elissa asked, alarmed.

"Of course!" Nyx enthused, her voice slightly higher and slightly more muddled than it had been when they had begun their tour. "All of the Underworld must know that my son has, at last, found his love."

Elissa's stomach turned. Love? She couldn't imagine a worse way to describe whatever it was that simmered between her and Itachi. Manipulation, anger, deceit. Attraction - yes, but then even more manipulation on top of that. False promises, false praise, false kisses…

"Well, this is news to me," Elissa smiled weakly and reached for one of the goblets on the tray, suddenly thirsty. To be put on display before the entire Underworld… no wonder they called this place hell.

"Oh no, dear…" Nyx's hand was surprisingly quick for one so inebriated as she caught a firm hold of Elissa's own - her grip almost painful. "You'd better not…" she frowned at the tray of ambrosia, as if it had offended her. "We don't know what it might do to you." She patted Elissa's hand, then, the gentle touch a sharp contrast to the stony grip that had stopped her a moment ago. "Water, perhaps, or fruit nectar, instead. Would that do, my dear?" she asked, looking at Elissa with concern.

Fruit nectar? Like juice? Elissa suddenly felt like she was seventeen again, and lying about her age at the bar with her friends. She shook her head and assured Nyx she was fine.

"Water's fine," she said to the other goddesses, who sent a servant off scurrying. Within seconds, a cool goblet was pressed into Elissa's hand and she drank gratefully, her cheeks burning, embarrassed, to be the center of such awkward attention.

Elissa thanked the servant, who bowed profusely and disappeared. She missed the thinning of Nyx's lips as they pressed into a harsh line at the exchange.

"You needn't be nervous," another goddess assured her. "It will be a delightful affair. We will come to your aid, should you need us, won't we, ladies?" The speaker, a dark-haired beauty like many of the Underworld's residents, glanced at the other women who all nodded enthusiastically, expressing reassurances, but something about their smiles seemed off, as if they were mocking her somehow, and Elissa felt uneasy.

More politics.

"Nonsense," said Nyx, replacing her now empty goblet on the tray. "My daughter-in-law will be the picture of elegance and surely not in need of any of your assistance. The notion!" She frowned and the women fell over themselves to rectify the situation, fervently proclaiming they meant no disrespect.

"You forget yourselves," Nyx rose from the gathering, her silk skirts flowing elegantly, like water, as they settled around her. She turned to Elissa, "Come, my dear. We depart."

The ladies curtsied deeply, lowering their heads in genuflection as Nyx marched off, her patience for them quite spent. Elissa followed at her side, doing her best to read the sudden shift in her demeanor. The Queen's joy seemed to have evaporated entirely; she now wore a stern, thoughtful expression as she led Elissa down further walkways. Two guards stood at attention just beyond and opened a set of large double doors that led out onto an onyx-and-marble walkway connecting one tower of the palace to another.

The Queen ignored them entirely as she stepped out into the fresh air, and Elissa murmured a thanks as she followed quickly behind her. When they were alone, and Elissa drew up beside her, Nyx gave the mortal a disapproving glance.

"You mustn't consort with servants and the like, my dear. It is quite unseemly."

Elissa was taken aback, but recovered quickly. "Unseemly? May I ask why? Shouldn't servants be treated with kindness?"

Nyx stilled midstep and turned on Elissa, all mirth well and truly gone from her countenance. "You must not forget that you are promised in marriage to my son, the Crown Prince and heir-apparent of this realm. All eyes are on you. Your status as a mortal caused quite a stir, but it can be rectified, provided you apply yourself."

When Elissa simply stared at her, she frowned.

"Come." She led Elissa towards the parapet, where they could look out onto the courtyard, and saw countless lesser gods and goddesses bustling to and fro. At the sight of their Queen, they paused in their business and raised a seemingly heartfelt salute of "Long May the Queen Reign" in response to which Nyx offered them a benevolent smile and an elegant raised hand of acknowledgement.

"Do you see them?" she asked Elissa, her expression unchanging, never once looking away from her subjects. "Each and every one of them is asking themselves, who is this mortal that our esteemed Lord Thanatos wishes to take as his wife? Is she to be one of us? Or one of them?" Elissa's gaze swept over the assembled nobility, where she saw a stableboy shrinking into the shadows - a moment too late, for his master dragged him out by the ear and gave him a lashing.

Now, Nyx turned away and held an arm out to Elissa, making a grand show of leading her towards the opposite tower to the jubilation of the crowd below.

"Should you choose the servants as your equals," Nyx looked at Elissa with an expression of disdain, "that will reflect poorly on my son."

They had reached a singular, onyx door now, framed with gold in a most intricate pattern and, as ever, bearing the Uchiha clan symbol.

"And that," Nyx warned, "I will not stand for."

Elissa did not respond, at first, a part of her deeply troubled and disgusted by the snooty, disdainful manner in which Nyx referred to the hard-working servants, who, in Elissa's opinion, deserved to be addressed with every respect and kindness. She had her own convictions, of course, on how the working class was to be treated - hell, she was the working class in comparison to the ridiculous wealth on display all around her!

But she wasn't too proud or stubborn to see the Queen's point. Her actions would reflect on those who had chosen to support her, and would affect far more than just herself. If the Underworld denizens did not respect her, she would be a liability for Itachi and of no help to anyone - not even the servants. It was imperative that she somehow make a place for herself at court, at least for the meantime. Only then, would her actions hold weight and perhaps, even serve as an example to others.

With a bitter sense of helplessness, she recalled Slayte mourning her pitiful status in the Underworld and realized, with a sinking feeling, just how bad it might have been.

"I understand."

There was little else she could say, and nothing at all that would help Nyx see the error of her ways. She was just one person; how was she supposed to change the entirety of the Underworld and its centuries-old, suffocating traditions? All she wanted was to make it out alive and kiss this miserable place and its uptight rules goodbye. Naturally, Elissa had no intentions of following Nyx's example and treating the kind servants as if they were little more than air, but she didn't have to rub it in the nobility's faces. She could be discreet.

The way Nyx's entire demeanor shifted, then, was jarring. Instantly, she was all smiles and fondness again.

"Splendid!" she exclaimed, and patted Elissa's hand kindly once more. "I knew you were a bright one."

She pulled open the elegant door and led Elissa inside. They came upon a small hallway that led to one curved staircase after another. The walls were adorned with stained glass windows, each depicting some bit of Underworld lore or another. Elissa recognized some of the myths, but was at a loss as to what some of the others were meant to portray.

There was a singular black cat surrounded by pale pink flowers that seemed to stare straight at her. It made recurring appearances on many of the windows as the two of them climbed ever on. Here, through a cave with glowing stalactites, there, idling on a branch over what she could only assume was a mortal dwelling. In one of the uppermost windows, the feline played with a ball of yarn, surrounded by intricate calligraphy: three words in a triangle. Faith, Opportunity, Equality.

What was it with the Underworld and their cats? Elissa wondered.

"This art is as old as the Underworld itself," Nyx commented, seeing what had caught Elissa's attention. "We were ever a creative people."

As Elissa mulled over this new bit of information, they reached the top of the staircase and Nyx led her through another onyx door, this one leading into what could only be described as an observatory. It was one of the uppermost rooms of the palace, and the curved dome of the ceiling had been replaced with enchanted glass that - as Nyx explained - answered only to the womenfolk of the royal family. Nyx needed only to suggest what she would like to see within the Underworld and the glass ceiling complied.

Elissa moved to inspect the ceiling from a clearer angle, intrigued, and the Queen was quick to demonstrate with a small command. At her words, the dome reflected back an image of her beloved gardens.

"Not many are permitted here," Nyx offered with a conspiratorial smile as she settled on a velvet sofa placed just so that one could observe the ceiling at their leisure. "But it is pleasant enough, when one craves solitude."

"It's lovely," Elissa answered honestly, still conflicted about the Queen as a whole. It was hard to reconcile the way the older woman had come to her aid and the apparent disregard she had for the servants under her command. But Elissa had a creeping suspicion that it was a matter of nurture, and not nature, that made the Queen indifferent towards the palace's servants.

She seemed very lonely, and ever on guard. Not even her sons seemed to extend any kindness towards her. Perhaps she had been speaking from experience when she warned against getting too close to the servants? Elissa tried not to be too quick to judge. She was a girl's girl, deep down, and wanted to give Nyx the benefit of the doubt.

So, she had a drinking problem. Who wouldn't, honestly, in such a stifling place? With the family she had? That didn't make her evil. She was classist, maybe, but that still didn't put her on par with Cronus.

Nyx patted the space beside her on the lounge and Elissa crossed over the blue-velvet carpet to take it, unclasping the brooch that held her heavy velvet cloak fastened together. The circular chamber was warm and sparsely illuminated; most of the light came from the images in the glass. It reminded Elissa of a theater.

She turned her face back up to the dome, considering its enchanted power.

"The ceiling really shows you whatever you ask it to?" she queried.

"Anything within the Underworld," Nyx agreed with a sage nod. Then, with a touch of mischief, she added, "Shall we look in on your betrothed?"

Before Elissa could stop her, Nyx sent a silent command towards the glass and sure enough, an image of Itachi stared back at them. He was the picture of elegance, as always, and not quite so hateful when he wasn't interacting with Elissa directly. There was a touch of kindness, of sincerity in his manner and she wondered who it was being addressed to at that moment.

Nyx seemed to wonder the same because the image panned out, to allow them a better view of the scene, revealing that it was Sasuke who had captured Itachi's attention. A sword was in his hand, and he was shouting something at his older brother. There was no sound, and Elissa could not read their lips, but it seemed very much as if Itachi had just given Sasuke a most unpleasant chore.

Shisui stepped in, then, rustling Sasuke's hair and offering an offhand comment that only further irked the young god. The exchange ended with an incensed Sasuke directing a fierce glare at them, as the two older gods turned to take their leave.

They didn't go towards the palace, she noted, but in the other direction, deeper into the surrounding forest. Nyx's smile at the sight of her sons faded, and she frowned as she saw the direction the two young men had taken.

Elissa wondered if Itachi knew his mother could spy on him like this. With a wave of Nyx's hand, the image dispelled, and they were left with a clear view of the Underworld's night sky.

"So, you can tell it to show you what anyone in the palace is doing at any given time?" Elissa asked, partly curious and more significantly alarmed as she considered the implications that had for her own privacy.

"Unfortunately, no. I can only command it to show me locations within the Underworld. Not private places, mind, such as another's chambers; anywhere within the palace interior is off-limits. But the Underworld's landscapes, its rivers and caverns and such, are all perfectly fine. I had a very good feeling your husband-to-be might be lingering near the training grounds at this time, and, sure enough, my assumption was correct." Nyx smiled lazily, quite pleased with herself - and quite inebriated.

Elissa looked up at the night sky again, somewhat relieved as she tucked that information away. She had a sneaking suspicion that Thanatos did not know of the observatory, or of its stalking powers. It seemed as if only Nyx came to the observatory to seek solace in solitude, and she was the only female member of the royal family, as far as Elissa knew - besides Pasithea, through her marriage to Hypnos.

As angry as she was towards her fake-fiancé, Elissa made a mental note to warn him about the dome and his mother's spying at some point.

"It's hard to believe it isn't real," Elissa breathed, quite taken with the familiar constellations and how brilliantly they sparkled beyond the glass.

At Nyx's inquisitive look, Elissa added. "The sky. It looks so real, it's hard to believe we're actually deep underground."

Nyx smiled, and lifted her brilliant black-blue gaze up to the sky overhead as well.

"The sky may be false, but the Night is real," she reminded Elissa.

Naturally, since the Goddess of Night resided in the Underworld, she realized. The sky itself though was technically just a dome, encompassing the entirety of the realm. Elissa wondered if the two were connected.

"Is that how the ceiling works?" Elissa asked, trying to piece the puzzle together, "Is it connected to the Underworld's sky?"

Nyx shrugged, tipsy and uninterested in the inner workings of the magical devices around her. "Perhaps. Who can say? It was enchanted well before my time. The previous Queen of the Underworld showed it to me - as I am showing you now."

Elissa tried not to think about what that meant as she fidgeted with the embroidery on her dress. She couldn't help but feel some semblance of guilt towards the Queen. She knew the woman truly believed in this engagement, and truly believed that she would marry Itachi and stay here in the Underworld for - the rest of her life? Or did the Queen intend to artificially extend her lifespan somehow?

"Thank you for the honor," Elissa said finally, and meant it.

"Pish-posh," was Nyx's slurred reply - she had definitely had too much to drink. "You've given me the honor of undoing the curse of loneliness that has haunted my son these many centuries. You will give him companionship, and love, and children, and all that I have ever wished for him to have." The Queen's voice cracked with emotion as her eyes welled with tears. "You have given me the greatest honor there is."

Guilt was brutal quicksand now, swallowing Elissa entirely. What would this woman do when the truth came out? She felt awful for her, remembering her own mother's heavy sighs about Gabe's reluctance to marry, thinking about how elated she would have been if Gabe and Serena had finally set a date.

Nyx seemed to be infinitely more invested than even Elissa's own mother was. It was as if her entire purpose of living her immortal life was to see her son married.

"Well," Elissa answered weakly, confused by the other woman's zeal. "Let's just take it one day at a time and see where it goes. Who knows what the future holds?" Better to manage the Queen's expectations, she thought, than to see her spontaneously combust when her hopes were dashed.

"I know," Nyx responded quietly, confidently, "You're the one, I made sure of it."

"Sometimes I'm not even sure what he really thinks of me," Elissa found herself saying. "Your son's not very easy to…" Her heart stopped as Nyx's words dawned on her a fraction of a second later. "Wait… what? You did what?"

Nyx giggled, then, not unlike a teenage girl. "I made sure of it. Oh, the centuries I spent in worship, asking for a sign. And they told me," she sat up straight suddenly. "They told me you would come. That you would love him."

Elissa stared at her, trying to keep the disturbed expression from manifesting upon her features. Okay, so the Queen was drunk and batty. Maybe it was time to go.

"I understand that you are unsure of yourself. Naturally, my son is quite exemplary in every way." Nyx looked at Elissa sympathetically. Elissa wanted to let her know that her son was an exemplary asshole, but the Queen continued. "But you are the one, I sent Vetty to find you. I tested you to make sure. Oh, Angelissa." Her full name grated against her ears and Elissa was reminded of why she ordinarily despised it so. "There can be no doubt. You are the very one The Fates foretold."

The one The Fates had foretold? What did that mean? Elissa's mind raced at the surprising revelations. So Nyx had been the one who had sent Vetty to the surface? The memory of the stormy, fateful night in which her car had collided with the cat flashed through her mind. She recalled what Slayte had said, that Vetty used to be the Queen's familiar, before abandoning the Underworld. And suddenly, every warning she had heard about Nyx came to mind, bright and urgent and true.

"What do you mean, you sent her and tested me?" she asked, the skin of her forearms prickling with alarm.

"Hmm," Nyx hummed. "I sent her to find The One. And she did. She found you. She would not have known it immediately, of course. We have spent centuries searching… and I had to make sure. I could not bear to wait any longer."

The words were nonsensical, and Elissa's heart had begun to pound. Instinct roared at her to take her leave, that being alone with Nyx for any longer was a terrible idea. She needed to speak to Vetty, to fully understand, once and for all, what exactly the Queen's motives were. Why was she so desperate to see her son wed? Why hadn't she looked for a suitable bride in the Underworld, or amongst the surface immortals? Why had she sent Vetty out looking for a human? And just what had she tested Elissa with?

She wondered if Itachi was aware of the things his mother had done. He had known about Cronus. He likely already did, and as usual, Elissa was the last one who was finding out about anything when she was the main person affected by everything.

Her throat burned with the bitter taste of indignance, and she slowly began to stand.

"I think I'd better-" she broke off in surprise, when Nyx's hand shot out, again with that lightning grip.

"You don't believe me," the woman was rightly scowling now. "Wait. I shall show you."

Before Elissa could answer, the world around them swirled as in a kaleidoscope. She sucked in a breath and found herself unable to release it as they journeyed at breakneck speed through the Underworld. This was nothing like the occasional portal that she had unwittingly stumbled into herself, where she was in another place in the blink of an eye. No, this was a painful contortion of her being to force her through one space - like through the eye of a needle - in order to be in another entirely.

When she opened her eyes again, she found they were standing on a grassy plain, just before a giant temple. How the thing had been built at all was a mystery. A domed roof stood supported by twelve pillars, each as wide and tall as a skyscraper - the very height of the building was a thing impossible. It was terrifying to behold, but Nyx did not hesitate as she made her way towards the temple and gestured for Elissa to follow.

Elissa knew that following her inside the temple was a bad idea. Her body was on edge with tension, wired for fight or flight, and her brain was screaming at her to flee. There was a chill in the night air that made her miss the cloak she'd removed in the observatory, and it was now apparent to her that the Queen was not simply drunk - she was borderline insane speaking of making sure that Elissa was the 'One', as if chosen by destiny for some outrageous higher purpose that Elissa wanted no part in.

She suddenly understood why Itachi had attempted to keep them apart. He'd been right to want to do so - and the fact that he had been right only angered Elissa further. She'd lowered her guard around Nyx's kind smiles. Trusted that she would be safe in the Queen's presence.

A mistake. Maybe Nyx's pleasant demeanor was only a trap to catch the unsuspecting off guard before the crazy hit. Everything rational within her cautioned Elissa to make her way back to the relative safety of her chambers. No-one in their right mind would follow Nyx on her crazy, drunk venture.

But there was no way out that she could see. She was very much alone with the Queen, and had no idea which direction would lead her back toward the palace. There was no returning to the palace without Nyx's leave.

Elissa swallowed, wavering with indecision as she eyed the temple warily. Then she straightened, steeling herself. Nyx was acting erratic - but surely she wouldn't hurt the one she believed would make her son happy?

Nothing risked, nothing gained, Elissa told herself. And what she needed more than anything else, was information. Wasn't that what Nyx clearly wanted to give her?

Gathering her skirts, she made her way up the marble steps and into the temple, hurrying on Nyx's heels as they made their way into the inner sanctum of the foreboding structure, passing countless servants - each moving slowly, almost robotically, as they went about their tasks. They wore coarse linen garments and a veil of white cloth was fastened around their heads by bands of gold leaf, the only adornment they wore.

"Are they…?" Elissa began, but Nyx dismissed the question almost immediately.

"You needn't worry about them, child, they shan't tell any tales."

That hadn't been Elissa's question, but at Nyx's words, she cast another glance at the servants, recognizing, suddenly, that not one of them spoke - not in prayer, nor to one another. Aside from the shuffling about, the temple was utterly silent. It was unsettling.

Elissa's rankling concern was confirmed when Nyx added, "Their tongues are the price of their service."

A jolt of horror went through Elissa and she faltered in step, gaping at the Queen, wide-eyed and horrified. "Excuse me- what? Who cut out their tongues?" She hesitated, before blurting, "It wasn't you?"

Nyx frowned with an expression of disgust, as if the idea of putting her hand on a mere servant's tongue - even to sever it - made her ill. "I certainly did not. It is the custom of the temple," she waved a hand at their surroundings in general, "and they see to their own matters independently."

The custom of the temple? While Elissa was still processing this nasty bit of information, Nyx drew to a sudden stop. "Ah, we're here."

Here referred to a large, luminous basin in the center of an expansive, roofless chamber, where the starlight filtered in freely, lending its light to the mysterious periwinkle waters. Candelabras were set into various sconces around the perimeter of the white, quartzsite chamber. It was built in such a way that even their own breaths seemed to echo back to them.

Elissa turned to ask Nyx yet another question, her thoughts still hinged on the poor servants who could not speak, but the goddess had already floated towards the center of the sanctum and was kneeling at the basin, her palms pressed to one another in prayer.

Elissa stared at her in bewilderment. Who in the world was a goddess praying to? What was happening? She shook her head and stepped closer, wondering what the mystery behind the sacred waters was. There was so much she didn't know, and in a place as unforgiving as the Underworld was, she knew that ignorance was dangerous.

Her wandering gaze caught on her own reflection in the water as she waited for the Queen to finish her supplication. The waters within the basin were utterly still, not a single ripple so much as whispered across the liquid surface, and Elissa met her reflection's eyes, utterly unimpressed. She frowned. Was that the expression she was making? She needed to get it together. She couldn't very well have the Queen thinking that she felt disturbed in her presence.

It was at that moment that she registered, with alarm, that Nyx did not appear at all in the water's reflection, only her own self stared back. But something was not quite right with the image. With a start, Elissa recognised what it was. The Elissa that stared back at her in the water seemed stronger, somehow, taller and fairer, a glow about her that was almost ethereal. Her long hair was even longer, and flowed around her form as if alight with power. Her expression was one of derisive disdain and she looked angry. Angry as Elissa had never known herself to be. The type of anger that seeped into one's bones and made them bitter, the type of anger that tinged everything one said or did. An anger fit to destroy without care or precaution.

Elissa took a step back, stunned by what she had seen. That wasn't what she looked like. That wasn't who she was. Were the waters enchanted? Was it an illusion? Or was that her inner state? Or some alternate version of herself entirely? Or something even more convoluted that she simply could not understand?

Nyx had finished with her prayers and opened her eyes slowly, before turning towards Elissa. "The temple of Lachesis. This is where I prayed for a sign," she told her in a hushed, reverent whisper. "For three hundred years. A token that my son's loneliness might know its end. And after three hundred years…"

A horrible sense of foreboding overwhelmed Elissa, who was already quite ill at ease over her rogue reflection. She wasn't sure she wanted to know any more than what Nyx had already said. What had The Fates, the very scribes of her destiny, revealed to Nyx? That she would truly marry the God of Death and remain in the Underworld forever? A slave to his world and his throne and his people? A prisoner to his endless lies? Her heart pounded as anxiety gnawed away at her. That wasn't at all the life she wanted. That wasn't why she had agreed to leave her own home and everyone she loved.

She was beginning to deeply regret agreeing to follow Nyx to the ominous temple at all, and yet what choice had she truly given to her? She clutched tightly at the key in her skirt pocket for comfort, and opened her mouth to say something, anything to stop Nyx from speaking.

But to her alarm, she found she did not need to say anything at all. Without warning, the waters themselves lifted from their basin, like an angry hand, and rocketed towards the slight woman. Nyx turned to see what it was that had startled Elissa and released a shriek of terror as the cruel liquid hand caught her in its severe hold and dragged her to the depths of the marble basin.

"Nyx!" Elissa gasped, forgetting all formalities as she rushed forward in horror, knowing she had to save the eccentric Queen somehow.

Her pulse hurtled as she clung to the edge of the basin, staring into the water with wild, desperate, panic-stricken eyes, hoping she'd be able to pull Nyx out without jumping in herself.

But she couldn't even see the goddess. The basin was deeper than it looked, and there were no limbs for her to catch onto. And a part of her was terrified of being pulled in herself. Who would help them then?

This isn't happening, Elissa told herself, feeling sick with fright. This can't be happening-

"Help! Someone help me!" She cried out, hoping that the servants they'd passed earlier would hear her. But no help came. The chamber remained eerily empty and silent, save for the rapid, panicked breaths that were escaping Elissa's lips.

How had the Queen vanished? Why couldn't she see anything beneath the clear water? Only her own cross-armed, false reflection stared back. Smug and self-satisfied.

Elissa's heart somersaulted within her chest as she gazed down at her likeness in the water's surface, now knowing for a fact that the reflection was most certainly not her - at least, not in that moment, for it did not mirror her frantic state.

"Who are you?!" Elissa demanded. "What've you done to Nyx?"

The image tilted her head. "You know exactly who I am."

The voice - her own voice - answered into her mind. Elissa stared at her phantom self in dismay, horror clogging her throat shut for a dreadful moment as her mind reeled. That wasn't her. How could it be? Robbed of her own voice, she struggled to comprehend what was happening, what she was seeing and hearing, feeling as though her very senses had betrayed her.

Finally she managed, "Give her back!"

"You wanted her to shut up, didn't you?" Her reflection answered. "Well, there you go."

That voice, that attitude, there was no doubt in her mind that she appeared to be talking to herself. But how was that possible? "Who are you?" she demanded again. "Why are you doing this?"

"Is that what's important here? Listen to me, dumbass. Forget about the Queen of excuses and bullshit and get yourself out of here. Go be with your family. And if you die on the surface, then you die, big deal. There are worse things than dying."

"You're not really me, and you don't know a thing about me. Give her back!" Elissa shot back, her gaze skimming over the water for any sign of the missing Queen. She didn't want to talk to this freaky imposter version of herself in the water, but what if it was the only way to get Nyx back?

The reflection's expression turned mocking. "Oh, I forgot how stupid you were."

Elissa bristled, incensed. Any qualms she'd had about speaking to water and appearing crazy evaporated. She wanted Nyx back and she wasn't about to let a trick of the senses get the better of her. Hadn't she been warned multiple times about how dangerous the Underworld was to living mortals?

"Yeah, there are worse things than dying," she snapped. "Like losing the people I love. That's why I'm here. I'm not going to do nothing and let everyone I care about get hurt."

"You think being here rules that risk out? No. The only difference is, you're all alone here."

It was a trick, Elissa told herself. It had to be. Or perhaps it was a test. Either way, she wouldn't listen to the venomous words.

"I'm not alone. I have Vetty and Pasithea, and Shisui and Itachi." The words sounded hollow, even to her own ears, and her reflection wrinkled her nose in utter distaste before swimming up closer to the surface as if to impart some crucial information.

"Word to the wise, from me to my stupider self. Don't trust Thanatos, and if you ever get the chance…" Here, her reflection pressed as close to the water's surface as possible before speaking her final words with a wicked grin, "kill him."

Elissa inhaled sharply, knowing that this reflection could not be any version of herself. She could not fathom ever speaking so carelessly of taking the life of another. And as much as Itachi infuriated her, as much as she could not understand him, she had still grown to care for him. She had to admit that she greatly respected the frustrating God of Death, and although his methods left much to be desired, she believed that he was, in his own vexing way, trying to keep her safe.

No, this ominous apparition had to be some sort of evil illusion. A trick of the eye, a trap to her senses, no doubt to turn them on one another.

"Give. Her. Back." Elissa responded evenly, enunciating each word with finality. "I know what I have to do, I won't listen to your lies."

The reflection narrowed her eyes angrily. "Idiot. Suit yourself. Don't say I didn't warn you."

And then, suddenly, her reflection disappeared and in its place, the pool's surface stirred, an ominous cyclone of the enchanted waters forming in its center, and from beneath the waves, Nyx's body rose like a limp doll on strings, water dripping from her washed up form.

"Lady Nyx!" Elissa shouted, hoping the sound would awaken the Queen and that she would have some power to free herself from her predicament.

Suddenly, Nyx's posture straightened unnaturally, her back arching as if she'd been struck by lightning. There was a frightening sound of cracking bone as her head whipped into place, dead center, her eyes - glowing ethereally - fixed firmly on Elissa. The Underworld's Queen opened her mouth to speak, and as she did so, more light streamed forth from her gaping lips. The voice that escaped Nyx was her own, but warped, as if three other iterations were speaking over her, leading her, telling her what to say.

"Chaos averted by affection,
A mortal soul - barred of direction,
That Death's touch may, her fate awaken,
Usurper's arrogance mistaken.

Time fragmented as the cosmos scattered,
Immortal bequest to mortal matter,
Prophesied child; anointed by love,
Receive thy heritage from stars above.

Tread no path of stone beneath the waves,
Vile greed buried in watery graves,
Let mortal over immortal reign,
And crown fall where her hand would deign."

Nyx floated towards Elissa as she spoke, and by the time the final word spilled from her lips, all of the light and the howling winds within the open chamber extinguished suddenly. The Queen crumpled like a puppet severed from its strings and fell into Elissa's waiting arms. The younger woman collapsed to her knees as she struggled to support the Queen's weight. A glance into the ominous basin revealed that her reflection, too, had disappeared entirely.

Panic surged within Elissa at all of the terrible things she had heard and seen that evening. Revelations of which she could make neither head nor tail. It was beginning to dawn on her that she had stumbled onto something far deeper, far more sinister than she had originally assumed. That Vetty had not been the cause of her painful journey but just another cog in the wheels of fate that led her to be in this very place, at this very time.

And as much as Elissa wanted to blame Nyx, she suspected that she, too, was no more than a puppet in the hands of a higher power. That the woman, in reality, was just as helpless as she appeared to be, lying limp in Elissa's arms.

She had never felt so afraid of what she did not know, had never so greatly feared the powers that were slumbering within her, powers she still did not understand. Why her? The question had run through her mind many times since she had been dragged into the supernatural, but never had it rung with more desperation than at that very moment. Fighting back tears of horror, Elissa turned to the servants who had at some point gathered around them, watching. Bored and uninterested, as likely suited their Mistress, the cruel Fate, Lachesis, who was laughing at them all.

"Help me," Elissa glanced back at them. When they simply stared mutely on, she snarled, furious at their inaction, "Help me, or I'll tell the King you did nothing! She's your Queen and she needs to be taken back to the palace!"

The servants exchanged a glance and reluctantly, an escort was arranged to bring the two of them, wet and generally out-of-sorts, back to the palace. Nyx worryingly remained unconscious the entire while, and it was only once they arrived at the opulent double doors of the Queen's private chamber where Nyx's servants received her and assured Elissa they would care for her, that Elissa allowed herself to be led back to her own rooms.

Shaken, miserable and freezing, she dismissed her alarmed ladies in waiting and wasted no time in barring the door and pulling parchment and quill from her nightstand - to put to paper all that she had seen and heard before her mortal memory failed her.

Her hands trembled, jarring her letters, and water dripped from her hair onto the parchment, diluting the ink, but she labored determinedly on. They needed to resolve this, to put an end to the chaos, because if the powers that be could toss Nyx, Queen of the Underworld, around like a rag doll, then what could they do to her? To her family?

She craved Itachi's stalwart presence at that moment. Longed for his quiet strength. For the security she couldn't help but feel when he was nearby, despite his infuriating behaviour. As tears burned at the corners of her eyes, she felt there was no slight she would not forgive if he came to her at that moment. To hold her. To reassure her. To protect her.

But even when she had finished writing, and changed out of her ruined clothing, even as the fire in the hearth dwindled and was rekindled by the servants who entered into her chambers to relight it multiple times, he did not come.

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AN: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I will not confess as to how long it has been sitting, almost done, in my docs. I went on vacation to Greece recently and that defo did me good in terms of writing inspiration!

The germans say speaking is silver and silence is gold, but in the world of fanfiction, comments are most definitely the true gold! Please be so kind as to leave me your thoughts, thank you!