Chapter Three

I sighed in relief, resting my face into my palms, elbows on the desk as I finally finished the last prisoner log for the day.

And it was already noon.

The servant came into my office only moments ago to assure me that Noe had recovered from his hangover and was currently enjoying a healthy meal that should settle his stomach. She informed me he had returned to his regular self. Normally, I would take him with me on rounds through Tartarus, but with the Titans plotting to seek out an oracle, now was not the time to take him on field trips.

Of course, that didn't mean I couldn't check on him before I left.

I got up from my desk, tucking my files away in the desk drawer, turning the locks before I made my way out into the corridor. Even from here, I could smell the warm scent of lunch being made. It smelled like chicken and dumplings, but there was only one way to find out.

I swept down the corridor, taking each step carefully and slowly to give me time to think before I arrived in the dining room to meet with Noe. I had a feeling he wouldn't appreciate my mentioning last night, so I would certainly keep all of that to myself. It gave me a somewhat powerful sensation, and at the same time, a little guilt swimming deep inside.

But everyone acted ridiculous when they were drunk. There was simply no control there, and only trying got you hurt. The fact that Noe had gotten drunk at all worried me, however. Hannibal must have said something that got to him, and while the two got along like cat and dog, Noe didn't usually cave into Hannibal's taunting. Something Hannibal said made Noe over drink and there was no way I was letting Hannibal get away with such a thing. I made a mental note to speak to Cain so he could punish Hannibal, and knowing Cain, he would do it right in front of me to make sure I was pleased.

Not that watching someone receiving punished pleased me at all. I may be the warden of Tartarus, but I was not a sadist.

I also needed to contact Malachi about another meeting soon to discuss the status of the Titans.

I just finished a week's worth of prisoner logs in one night, and yet there was still so much to do, so much to get done. It almost gave me a headache, but I willed it away as I entered the kitchen, earning respectful bows from each servant I passed until I made it to the back door to the dining room. I opened it up to a large, tall room with a rather small low table sitting at the center under a long, glittering chandelier. Pale purple pillows were set on each end, a meal already prepared for myself, even though I didn't think about eating.

Noe was sitting on his pillow, eating his chicken and dumplings with loud slurps sounds until he saw me approaching and quickly set the bowl down, a drop of juice sliding down his chin. I raised an eyebrow at that and he blushed, quickly wiping it away and clearing his throat.

"G-Good morning." He greeted. I smiled lightly at that. He was embarrassed. He seemed only cuter when he was like that. I nodded to him and took my seat, picking up my silverware to eat. Noe cleared his throat, shifting uneasily. He reached up to stroke his throat, making me frown.

"Are you all right?" I asked. Noe looked uncomfortable with my attentiveness and nodded, picking up his glass of water.

"Yeah, just a sore throat." He replied timidly, taking a few deep gulps until the cup was empty. He still looked to be in discomfort, so I summoned a servant to come and get him more water.

"How are you feeling?" I asked him nonchalantly as I took a sip of my water to wash down the chicken that for some reason tasted sour to me. Noe shifted a little, reaching up to try and tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, only to have it slide back into place by his cheek, so he cocked his head instead, eyes averted.

"Fine, I guess," He admitted more comfortably now, "Just a bit of a headache and a sore throat. Uhm, probably all the booze... Erm, speaking of which, Zelios--"

"It's all right," I cut him off, watching him blush and look down at his lap in shame, "It was your first time and Abel informed me that Hannibal had said something to provoke you. It wasn't your fault." Noe looked ashamed.

"Yes, it is," He groaned, running a hand through his hair before dropping it onto the end of the table, "I shouldn't have gotten so mad at him. He's always being a jerk. I should be used to it." I nodded at that, lifting my bowl to my mouth to drink in the broth before placing the bowl down to see Noe chewing on a piece of chicken with a bit of feriocity that made me cock a brow at him. He blinked, then dropped the chicken, clearing his throat. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Was it his throat?

"Well," I said slowly, "I'm glad you've learned something... What did Hannibal say to you anyway that upset you so?" I looked up from my bowl after a moment of no response, surprised to see Noe's face turn deep red and for a moment, I thought he had a fever when I sensed the familiar air of humiliation around him.

"N-Nothing important. I barely remember it now. It really doesn't matter." He rushed, then occupied his mouth with enough food so that talking was impossible. I frowned at that, but didn't push him anymore. I returned to eating in silence, but out the corner of my eye, I could tell Noe was still uncomfortable.

What was going on? Why was Noe acting so strange lately? Surely it couldn't just be Hannibal harassing him again. Was he sick?

He looked fine now, just embarrassed and trying to distract himself with food that he was eating rather sloppily. He was using his fingers to rip the chicken in the soup apart before he ate it and taking large gulps of water so it spilled down his chin and into his lap, but he didn't seem to pay attention to it. He was worrying me and I wanted to stay in the palace to keep an eye on him, but I had rounds to make and I still needed to get in contact with Cain and Malachi.

"I'm going to go make my rounds," I said at last, placing my empty bowl on the table and watching Noe look up at me, wiping his mouth on the back of his gloved hand, "But I won't be right back immediately. I need to visit Malachi and Cain." Noe blinked and started to get to his feet, but almost knocked everything on the table off. His cheeks flushed and he ducked back down, trying to pick everything up.

"I wanna go with you." Noe said as he managed to dab up the water with a towel that sat nearby. I frowned, straightening my clothes as I shook my head.

"Do not ask that of me. You know you are to stay here where it's safe." I told him firmly, watching him groan and plop back down on the pillow. He said nothing more, just glared at the table. I studied him for a moment, feeling a pool of guilt well up inside me, but I couldn't cave in. It was far too dangerous, and I already didn't appreciate Noe coming with me on rounds in the first place.

The prisoners were being tortured and withheld from certain pleasures, and they had the tendency to call out to Noe, who ignored them completely, but it still irritated me. I didn't want anyone speaking to Noe with such vulgarity.

"I am sorry," I told him at last, making him peek up at me, "I'm only doing this for your safety, Noe. Sept offered that you stay in Styx during this incident, but you said no."

"Because I wanted to be with you." Noe mumbled under his breath. I didn't know what to say to that. An odd thrill passed through me that Noe would prefer to suffer in a palace for months on end than to live in Styx where he had plenty of friends. At the same time, I felt guilty that he was so miserable here with me. Instead of responding, I merely bade him farewell before I left the palace. The stone statues that ran up and down the walkway stood in silence until I stopped in the center of them.

"Cleo, Rosha, Zachariah." I stated. Three of the statues shuddered and trembled before one by one, the three became living creatures. Cleo yawned, stretching and arching his back before he stepped off his post. Rosha sighed heavily, as if he could think of a million things he'd rather be doing. Zachariah simply obeyed until all three of them were in front of me.

"I am making rounds. You three will follow." I informed, making them nod before I started past them toward the staircase that led straight down into the trench.

"Where's Noe?" Rosha asked suddenly, taking notice to the fact that this was one of the first times Noe hadn't come with. Cleo looked around, looking surprised as well.

"Yeah, he's usually tagging along right behind you." He pointed out, shifting his spear into his other hand, armor clinking. I unlocked one of the wrought iron gates at the bottom of the staircase, frowning.

"Not with the Titans plotting again. I can't risk them getting a hold of Noe to use as an oracle." I informed them calmly as we stepped out into the trench. The cells around us rattled with attention as prisoners howled and screamed, a few light sobs coming from somewhere deep within. The reeking stench of blood and other body fluids was one of my least favorite parts of this job.

"I can see that," Cleo agreed as we walked along the trench, pausing at a cell where there was silence before an inmate slammed against the bars to bear their teeth at us, "Oracles are pretty dangerous, both to others and themselves. I remember the Oracle of Astron? He killed his entire family before Apollo was forced to put him down."

"I remember that," Rosha put in with a nod, "He turned into something else, and it didn't happen right away either. He slowly began to change before the physical transformation hit and he turned into... well, an oracle." I frowned at that, pausing just before the gates to the Titan's holding area.

"Do oracles really turn into monsters?" I asked as I undid the lock. Rosha and Cleo shared looks, but it was Zachariah who answered, surprisingly.

"Yes," He said softly, his eyes meeting mine, "The transformation from a natural being to an oracle is a painful, maddening process. The power being fed through them is so intense that they say the body changes because it's going insane."

"And what did the Oracle of Astron look like?" I asked. Cleo shrugged.

"That depends. Before he turned into an oracle, he wasn't bad lookin'. The stereotypical Greek. Once the power of the Oracle was fed through him, his hair turned white and he grew wings and claws. He spoke in tongues that no one had even heard of before. He became sensitive to light and sound, which is why he killed his family. They would talk to him and he couldn't take the noise anymore and killed them. Although, the noise didn't really come from them. It was the sound of the gods talking in his head all at once." He explained matter-of-factly. That sent an icy chill up my spine, so I dropped the subject and conversation all together.

I did not want to think of Noe becoming like that. The thought terrified me. And I knew it would only scare him as well.

I didn't want to think about this anymore.

I focused on checking each of the cells, pausing by Phoebe's to peer inside. Relief swept through me to see Phoebe lying on the floor of her cell, dazed from the amount of grigora that was in her food. She just laid there, staring up at the ceiling, smiling every so often, then frowning, then grimacing as if she were experiencing something the rest of us could not.

I finished my rounds in the Titan's cells before I led the way back up the side of the trench. I turned to Cleo, Rosha, and Zachariah.

"Guard the palace in the forms you are in now. I will return shortly." I told them. They nodded and obediently went to cross the bridge to the other side of the trench where my palace sat in wait. I turned and touched the door that led to the main lobby. It opened instantly and I stepped inside to see Diodorus hitting buttons vigorously on a video game controller, his white hair held back by a pair of headphones with a connected mic, his green eyes locked on the computer monitor that showed a first person shooter zombie game.

"You're cheating," He protested into the mic angrily, "... Yes, you are! Stop shooting me! That's not fair, Xenon. The least you could do is cover me when I'm trying to heal... Alexion, stop laughing. Where's Cerberus? I thought he was dying... Oh, no. He's dead." I cocked my head at the familiar names, most of all Xenon. No one had been able to get in contact with him for weeks, and he's busy playing video games when the Titans could be escaping?

"Diodorus." I stated. The daemon let out a squeak of horror and whirled around to see me standing there. He quickly turned back to the monitor.

"Sorry, gotta go, guys. Bye!" He ripped the headset off and shut the game down, jumping to his feet to face me formally now. He bowed lowly in respect.

"S-Sorry I wasn't paying attention." He apologized timidly before standing up straight again. I shook my head.

"It's all right," I responded, then frowned, "You were talking to Xenon?" Diodorus looked a little caught off guard, shifting uncomfortably as he nodded slowly.

"We play a lot."

"Has he been online these past few weeks?"

"Usually. Sometimes he leaves suddenly without saying anything, but I just figured it was because he was busy."

"I see," I noted, then nodded as I made my way to the door that led to the stair case out of Tartarus, "Sorry to disturb you. You may return to your game, Diodorus. I just wanted to inform you that I'll be back shortly."

"Yes, my Lord." Diodorus bowed and plopped back down in his seat, his shaking hands grasping for his headset and controller. I walked into the staircase that was significantly colder than the lobby and definitely Tartarus. I didn't have to walk all the way up. The barrier that prevented teleportation ended at the door to the lobby, so I vanished from the staircase and reappeared in the main lobby of Malachi's home in Inferi, mostly to avoid the rain that was coming down rather hard outside.

Malachi's two servants, Fos and Skotadi, greeted me timidly before one used a phone to call Malachi into the lobby, but she had barely picked up the phone before Malachi appeared in the lobby in front of me. Adrian was right at his side.

Malachi was a tall demigod with long, flowing black hair and oddly shaded eyes with the whites being black and his irises being icy blue. He wasn't fond of shirts, I noticed, and was once again not wearing one today. Only a pair of leather pants and gold snake bands around his biceps that bulged with power.

He was a stark contrast to his partner, Adrian, who was much smaller and younger. Adrian was about seventeen and a bit slender, but he seemed to be gaining a bit of muscle mass since he arrived. His blonde hair was held back from his face with a headband and he looked a bit tired, as if he had just come back from working out. He wore a black tank top and matching shorts to his knees.

"You could've knocked." Malachi deadpanned in greeting. He wasn't exactly friendly with the rest of our brothers, and I completely understood that. Malachi was a victim of Hades more than he was a son. In order to make Persephone jealous and angry, Hades raped one of her handmaidens and from that mistake came Malachi, resulting in the death of his mother and Persephone's rage. She allowed Malachi to live and take over Inferi, much to Hades' chagrin.

"It was raining," I answered briefly, making him roll his eyes, "But that's not the point. I have come to request that we hold another meeting." Malachi frowned, folding his arms over his chest and watching me intensely.

"And why is that? Noe isn't in trouble, is he?" He asked. There was the faintest hints of concern for Noe in his voice that relaxed me. Malachi wasn't as harsh a person as he made himself out to be, probably one of the many reasons Adrian stuck so close to him and trusted him wholeheartedly.

"No," I admitted, "But we need to figure out what to do. The Titans are pushed into submission and won't be making any kind of move for now. And also, Diodorus seems to have had contact with Xenon the entire time we did not." Malachi twitched, a tic forming in his jaw as he clenched his teeth in irritation. Adrian frowned.

"He did? How?" He asked, confused.

"Some video game with zombies." I responded, making Malachi smack his palm into his forehead before letting it slide down his face in exasperation.

"I know what you're talking about," He muttered, "Abel plays that game on occasion when he's slacking off. All right. Adrian and I will find a time to hold a meeting and then contact you. For now, just keep doing what you're doing. It seems to be working." I nodded and took the liberty of vanishing from their lobby and right into the Fields of Asphodel where Cain resided.

His home was a modern, sleek black designed mansion that sat nestled amongst the few trees that were scattered throughout the land. A barrier kept the wandering souls at bay quite obviously. Each time a soul came forward to try and get through, the barrier rippled and sent blue and purple electrical charges through it, sending the soul flying backwards.

I approached the front door of his home, tall and proud, just like Cain. I didn't bother knocking first and just entered the main lobby, which was quite small compared to other lobbies. There wasn't even a servant to watch the door. A short hallway led into a large throne room, elaborately decorated with blacks, purples, and blues and a throne made of black sleek stone to match the floor that was so clean, you could see your reflection in it. Above, hanging from the ceiling, were old-fashioned chandeliers made of black iron and fake candles.

I wasn't there for more than a few minutes before Cain entered with Hannibal right at his heels like the dutiful dog he was.

Cain was quite the opposite of his twin, Abel, who held more dignity. Cain dressed promiscuously in a pair of short leather black shorts that showed far too much thigh and a tight black studded vest with a collar that hugged his throat with a sparkling ruby embedded there. He wore a pair of tall, bulky boots that clomped when he walked. His facial features were just like Abel's, pretty and sweet, the total opposite of his personality. His hair was still its natural dark chocolate brown, cut to the nape of his neck, longer in the back than in the front where his bangs swept across his forehead over a pair of deep, powerful blue eyes.

Hannibal was much taller than Cain, at least by a foot. He wore a long black jacket that was buckled all the way up the front to keep it shut. It matched his large, buckled boots. His black hair was swept over to the left side of his face to hide it, his left ear entirely pierced to match the one on his tongue that he had a habit of flicking out over his lips like a snake.

"I thought I smelled you in here," Cain greeted me, stopping in front of me to place a hand on his hip, glancing me up and down with disinterest, "What're you doing here?" I frowned, narrowing my eyes down on Cain to let him know that I was hardly here for his teasing. The look made him drop his arm to his side, his expression scrunching in irritation.

"I have come to discussion a situation that occured last night between your righthand and mine." I informed him sternly. Cain blinked, then cast Hannibal a sideways glance. Hannibal kept his face stoic, until Cain looked away and I swore Hannibal was fighting the urge to smile now. Bolts of irritation rode along my spine and pierced my chest, my heart pounding hard against my ribcage.

"What situation?" Cain asked me seriously now.

"Last night, your righthand provoked Noe and tricked him into drinking. I don't know what was said, but I strictly informed everyone that I do not want Noe heavily intoxicated. And while I'm at it," I continued, making Cain lift a thin regal brow in challenge, "Your righthand has been way out of line as of late. I will not leave until he has been properly punished." Cain waited for a while, processing my words before he turned to Hannibal, who returned to being emotionless as he looked down at his master.

"You have been a dick lately, haven't you?" Cain asked him. Hannibal shrugged.

"Guilty as charged." He answered, making Cain smirk. Cain's hand shot out like a viper, catching Hannibal by the chin. He pulled Hannibal's face down, dangerously close to his own. Hannibal flicked his pierced tongue over his lips, watching Cain's eyes intently.

"I don't appreciate you harassing Zelios' little water daemon. And I think I told you that I don't like you going out to drink with those guys anyway," Cain went on, tightening his grip on Hannibal's jaw, digging his fingernails into Hannibal's skin, "You're trying to piss me off, aren't you?" Hannibal's eyes flickered and I frowned, instantly picking up on the flicker of emotion that I knew very well from watching other couples. Or rather, one-sided affection.

The relationship between Cain and Hannibal was strictly master and servant. Cain really didn't love anyone, even his own twin. Hannibal, on the other hand, seemed to very much enjoy Cain's punishment, which wasn't exactly what I was hoping for.

"Gods," Cain sighed, roughly letting go of Hannibal's jaw as he held his hand out and conjured a sleek black and silver designed dagger before handing it to Hannibal, "Pin your hand to the floor of my throne." Hannibal took the dagger obediently and walked over to Cain's throat, kneeling down and placing his hand down at the foot of it. He reeled the dagger back, hesitated for a moment as if he were gathering up the ability to fight the pain before he rammed the dagger down on top of his hand, piercing the flesh and bone and going right through the floor.

Hannibal seethed, gritting his teeth as he slumped down on his knees so they were on either side of him, his coat spread out around him. He said nothing, but Cain seemed pleased and smiled before turning to face me.

"Was that enough? Or did you want me to do more? Because I can do more, so much more." He added, sounding a little too eager. Hannibal said nothing and just sat there, fuming silently as blood pooled from his hand. He looked to be in enough pain already.

"That is enough," I responded calmly, watching Cain practically wilt in disappointment, "I do not want to have this happen again. If he cannot behave, then I do not want him around Noe." Cain smirked, folding his arms over his chest and cocking his hip.

"That's so cute," He commented, making me frown, "You're so protective of him. I can see why. Noe's adorable. He's so small and cute. But he's so fragile. Good thing Persephone gave him to the ever merciful Zelios, otherwise, Noe would be a broken pile of nothing in my bedroom."

I wanted so badly to grab Cain by the throat, but I barely managed to withhold my temper and merely turned around, taking a few steps before I vanished and reappeared back in the staircase to Tartarus.

Cain was right, however. Noe was lucky to have landed with me rather than my other brothers. Cain would most definitely have made Noe cry, as would Cerberus, who was known for being quite rough at times as well. Malachi wouldn't have appreciated Noe's presence constantly being there. Abel would easily get annoyed with him and throw him out. Charon could barely take care of himself half the time, so having someone like Noe around would be impossible to deal with. Theo would easily have broken Noe by now as well.

At the same time, Noe wasn't in an entirely good situation with me as well. Noe was a water daemon. It was natural that they were constantly active and doing things. He hated being locked in the palace, and he hated how desolate Tartarus was, but there was nowhere else for him to go where he could be safe. He was safest beside me, where he belonged.

Maybe that was selfish of me, to be so possessive, but I couldn't help it. I had raised Noe, taken care of him, taught him everything he knows, protected him, saved him. I didn't want him to be anywhere else and I remembered the way my heart leapt when Sept had offered Noe to move into Styx for the oracle situation. I found myself terrified that Noe would accept, but much to my relief, he refused and insisted on staying with me.

And what he said before, at lunch.

Because I wanted to be with you.

He wanted to be around me; he enjoyed it. He was used to it, of course. He hadn't been anywhere else before. He was used to spending almost every waking moment with me. Even as a child, in the beginning, it took him forever to be able to sleep on his own. He would wake from nightmares and crawl into my bed while I slept and I woke up in the morning to feel him clinging onto me.

And now those nightmares were coming back, I realized bitterly. I hadn't seen Noe act so strongly to a nightmare in years. Whatever it was had scared him deeply. I would have to make sure he slept much more peacefully tonight.